#I mean I usually just write characters masking that never get tired or stop

[deathnguts]

Spare some rabastan lestrange for the needy pls🤲 (i’m the needy and i’d like to know what you think about his dynamic with his brothers)

Sigh, fine I’ll guess I’ll spare some pennies. Thank you for the ask! This is kinda scatter brained and kinda focused on Rodolphus to like parallel/paint how the brothers are together with they are separate and yeah I dunno I threw up

So usually I internalize whatever @florsial (formal apology to you pookie, Im about to act out of line 🫶) says about Rabastan because we tend to agree on things surrounding him but I think we definitely view Rodolphus differently. Which is fine, he barely exists as a character and I think it’s just representative of how we fundamentally view sibling relationships differently. Like I don’t know what it is with me, but I feel the need ti make every sibling relationship I write for either fanfiction or my own work complicated as hell.

So Rodolphus Lestrange. I think he’s a lot like Orion Black. Like he probably even looked up to him kind of when he grew up, (which is kinda funny because Rodolphus probably isn’t much younger than him if at all considering my headcanon that both walburga and Orion were young when they had both their children to kind of get it out of the way) and you can see that in like a lot of how he just is. Hes ‘stoic’ but actually just doesn’t feel a lot of emotions and doesn’t pretend he does, he’s probably like a hair away from being an alcoholic but he doesn’t drink because he knows that (unlike Orion who is very much an alcoholic), hes antisocial and physically annoyed around people because he doesn’t understand why they are as ‘efficient’ as he is and looks down on all of them.

He’s very work oriented, so much so that he doesn’t really have a life outside of it at all. He’s always been the twin the family knew to count on and he always liked having the title so he never had a rebellious stage or any real anger towards his expectations beyond being tired at the end of a particularly grueling work day. I think the only work hes expected to do that he actively doesn’t work towards doing is producing heirs. He doesn’t like kids, he thinks they’re loud and messy and they get in the way of a schedule. It’s like the only thing him and Bellatrix agree on since she also wants nothing to do with kids. (Also quick note on their marriage, I think they pretty much ignore each other and that’s their idea of what they’ll be like forever. When in public together they put on the ‘better than you’ couple mask but in every other scenario they live completely separate lives and actively avoid each other or they’ll find something to fight about.) like the general vibe I could sum him up with is, yes he’s Rabastan’s twin, but everyone who’s ever talked with him assumes he’s like a decade older and just aged well.

So to contrast that with Rabastan, who was never really expected to be anything and never proved anyone wrong, he’s the sort of kid his mother defends no matter what but he father actively tries to forget about. The exact sort Rodolphus looks down on. He can’t help it’s his brother, he’s still below him. And that would be easier to accept if Rabastan stopped proving it over and over. He had to act out in school, he had to move where mother couldn’t find at seventeen, he had to preach to the family that they were ‘immoral’ or whatever, and then he had to preach it to a child, and then he had to marry the child. Like, Rodolphus isn’t a good man by many means, but his lack of feeling or empathy towards people gives him a more head on view of them. And his head on view of his brother is that he’s useless, dramatic, and so desperate to be anything he’ll lie to a little girl to get her to view him that way. And not to say Rodolphus is any better since he witnessed first hand what his brother was doing, he literally walked in on the two hiding away to make out in a corner when regulus was still fifteen and his brother was the same age as himself and just turned back around and never mentioned it to anyone. A truly good person probably would’ve done something. Good thing that’s not what he’s trying to be.

(Also unrelated but I wanna circle back to a point @florsial has that I love about how Rabastan and Regulus are a couple who tries to nuclear and domestic but fails, I feel like that’s a joke on its own especially in this context. The idea that Rodolphus is the nuclear working man so Rabastan must parallel him by being a family man, he just isn’t. Yes he’s closer with his wife than his brother is, and yes that could be something he has over Rodolphus but pretty much no one in their family is proud of Rabastan for his teenage wife and it’s not like their perfect or anything.)

Rodolphus has probably told Rabastan he thinks this only once since he’s usually content to be quiet about it. He probably broke and yelled about how Rabastan will never be anything ro even get his shit together and it won’t matter because no one has hope he will and it hurts because Rodolphus was never given that leeway and it must be fucking nice to have. Rabastan probably doubles back with how much it must be nice for anyone to give a shit about you, to not only exoect things from you but love you even more when you deliver. They probably kept fighting until Rodolphus, as always, gets tired and shuts it down and goes home.

Because even a man who feels nothing has breaking points, especially when Rabastan keeps fucking pushing for one. And that was their relationship a lot of their life, I think. Rabastan desperately wanting to be seen and Rodolphus who is willingly blind. When they were younger that was ok, little kids before hogwarts just played together until father came to take Rodolphus away, growing boys at hogwarts who slowly drift apart when one doubles down on academics and the other found there’s more to do (and not for lack of desperate trying on the seconds behalf.) and then they’re grown up and neither can place what really happened. They’re sure they used to love each other, at least they think so. And they don’t know what happened, because something must have happened. Right?

Yeah I dunno it’s hard to continuously explain but I think what’s tragic about them is that it’s needless. Rabastan could try ti be better and it would not only help his relationships but himself, Rodolphus could try ti be more and he same would happen to him. If either brother were better at being human then they would be better at loving each other. But they’re not, so they can’t.

[thingstosaybutnotconfront]

Where’s the ‘How to write neurotypicals post?’

I see so many posts on how to write characters with anxiety, PTSD, depression, autism, ADHD... it’s amazing, thank you so much to people who are struggling and still find the time to explain to the rest of the world how they live and how to express that in writing! 

But as someone who isn’t nerotypical, why aren’t the neurotypicals doing their part? Come on, I want a post on how to write y’all! You think I can wrap my head around not being in a state of constant exhaustion and anxiety? 

Nope, sorry, need further explanation. 

[inkykeiji]

you’re like a drug to me, a luxury, my sugar and gold

character: gojou satoru

genre: smut with a sprinkle of fluff at the end

notes: aaaaah first jjk fic ever!!!! uhhh this is honestly just pure smut and punishment, satoru is a Bad Daddy, and it’s set in a curseless AU | title cred: handclap by fitz and the tantrums

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dubcon/noncon, slight size difference/size kink, belly bulge, spanking with a belt, rough sex, minimal prep, minimal aftercare (at first), toxic and unhealthy relationship (satoru is mean n a bad daddy!), daddy kink/slightly implied ddlg dynamics, praise kink, dacryphilia

words: 3.1k

synopsis:

And although you can—and do—get away with a lot, you can’t get away with everything. A little brattiness he can handle, a little brattiness he thinks is cute. But on the days when you’re really misbehaving, purposefully (or not) breaking every rule, acting out and refusing to listen, rejecting any bargain or compromise with him at all—well, he’s only human.

And he snaps.

Gojou Satoru is a bad Daddy.

He’s a sweet Daddy, a silly Daddy, a Daddy who’s almost incapable of saying no. He’s a Daddy with a massive sweet tooth, a Daddy who frequently allows both of you to have dessert before dinner—sometimes dessert for dinner—and a Daddy who gives his princess nearly everything she desires, weak to your pretty pout and puppy-dog eyes and please, Daddy?’s. He hates to deny you, aches at the thought of you being even just a teensy bit displeased, because he wants his baby happy, always.

It’s his fault, really, you’re saying, insisting, when he calls you a spoiled brat. Because, honestly, it is; Satoru is entitled—he always has been, born with a not silver, not gold, but platinum spoon in his mouth—and his little princess is entitled, too.

Because he gives you anything and everything you ask for the moment the demand leaves your mouth, dotes on you hand and foot, absolutely adores you, lavishing you in the finest silks and prettiest lace, always indulging you just as much as he indulges himself—as much as he has always been indulged, growing up filthy rich.

Because you weren’t always like this; or, at least, you weren’t always this brash about it.

But years of getting exactly what you want, exactly when you want it, has forced your attitude to change, to shift.

You haven’t changed, Satoru tells you one day, a tub full of melty ice cream in his lap as he shovels another spoonful into your mouth, waning sun bathing the penthouse terrace in translucent gold and coral, brilliant colours reflected in his crystal eyes. “I didn’t do anything—I simply revealed your true nature,” A devious little smirk spreads across his lips, eyes glinting in an almost ominous nature, and you shiver. “You’ve always been a selfish materialistic brat, haven’t you?”

Well, you guess he has a point.

And although you can—and do—get away with a lot, you can’t get away with everything. A little brattiness he can handle, a little brattiness he thinks is cute. But on the days when you’re really misbehaving, purposefully (or not) breaking every rule, acting out and refusing to listen, rejecting any bargain or compromise with him at all—well, he’s only human.

And he snaps.

It’s always something little, after a day full of disobedience, that does it, that finally lights the fuse and forces an explosion. Something that would normally be inconsequential, something he’d usually laugh off with a coo and a loving pat to your head.

Because you fought him on bedtime last night, then fought him on going to university this morning. You demanded pancakes for breakfast and when he denied them to you, because he’s got an important meeting in the afternoon and thus hasn’t the time to make them, you refused to eat anything at all—only to whine and bitch and complain about how starved you were for the entire duration of his conference. And yet, throughout it all, he was the perfect picture of patience, endlessly cool and nonchalant in his responses to your multiple tantrums.

Until you rushed into the kitchen in a famished frenzy, diving straight for the cookie jar and shoving three in your mouth.

“Sweets are not an appropriate dinner, baby,”

The words are sighed out in pure exasperation, his thumb and his forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, lids shut tightly.

Eyebrows furrowing, you tilt your head in confusion, speaking around your mouthful. “Since when?”

His eyes snap open, blazing azure glaring at you with such an intensity it makes you flinch, cookie crumbs turning to ash in your mouth.

“Since forever,” he seethes, mask of impassivity finally beginning to break.

“What?” you laugh around the word, but it trembles. “What are you talking about? You rarely enforce that rule—especially since you don’t even follow it yourself!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snaps, nostrils flaring with a particularly harsh exhale. “I am the boss, and what I say goes,”

“Daddy!” A sock-clad foot stomps against the marble floor as you whine out the word, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “That isn’t fair! You can’t just—”

“Enough with this attitude!” he snarls, moving like a crack of lighting as he lunges at you, lithe arms embracing you in an iron grip. “I can, and I will,”

And then he’s hauling you over his shoulder, one strong arm wrapped around you and pinning you draped over his body, delivering swift, harsh slaps to your ass every time you kick your feet or beat your fists against his back, while every whine and complaint earns you another spank in his mind, mentally tallying them up and vocalizing the thought a moment later.

“You’re being a meanie,”

“That’s twelve,” he growls.

“I don’t care!”

“Thirteen.”

“So what?”

“Fourteen.”

“That’s nothing,”

“Twenty-five.”

And that—that gets you to pause, but not to halt, not to stop, potent brattiness mixing with fury as it boils in your chest, the need to defy, to disobey, burning through your veins.

“I-I can handle that,”

“Thirty,” his voice is calm—serene, almost—and ice cold. There’s an underlying challenge sown into it, daring you to try him again, to utter another word. He’ll go higher, you can almost hear his apathetic voice floating through your mind; he’ll go as high as he needs to in order to teach such an ungrateful little brat a lesson.

Thirty it is.

The buckle of his favourite belt jingles as he undoes it, that dainty clink! forcing shivers to pebble across your naked skin, pressing your chest further into the foot of his bed, fingers curling in cashmere.

You’ve developed a love-hate relationship with that belt; it’s so fun when you get to undo it yourself, gentle fingers tugging and toying as you squirm eagerly in his lap, yet the clank and clattering of that heavy buckle as nimble fingers skillfully unfasten it and pull it from the loops of expensive trousers is almost menacing, carrying with it portentous threats it fully intends to see through.

He never warns you when the first strike is coming, reveling in the way your muscles are coiled in tension, in foreboding anticipation; basking in the surprised yelp that bubbles up in your throat.

“Relax,” he tells you with a callous chuckle, leather squealing between large, smooth hands as he folds it. “And count,”

It’s his usual response, predictable and scripted by this point, but he never seems to tire of it, notes of delight lacing his voice.

And that first blow never counts.

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy by most standards, but his punishments are harsh, brutal, and cruel, and they happen to be one of the only things he takes seriously in life.

There’s rules to each of his punishments—so many rules he’s made you write them out multiple times, until your hand ached and fingers cramped and the heel of your palm was swollen, so they’d stick in that pretty empty little head of yours, so you never forget—and his spankings are no different.

You are not to move until he tells you to. You are not to speak unless spoken to. You are to count each lash, loud and clear before the next strike lands. Each mistake, each misstep and slip-up and refusal to comply, will earn you one extra slap. The tool is to be decided based on the severity of the offence.  

The belt, all rigid rawhide and sharp edges, cuts into the supple flesh of your ass with each easy, nonchalant flick of his wrist, abrasively snapping against you.

Each collision of leather against flesh sears a tingly sting into your skin, biting rapidly rising welts into your ass and sending spiky jolts of agonizing pain bolting up your spine, the pain fading to a dull throb for just a moment before another blow is delivered.

“Gorgeous,” Satoru murmurs to himself halfway through your punishment, the word nothing more than a little huff of breath. You don’t dare respond, simply crying out the next number as he lands another harsh blow to your abused skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard a more beautiful sound, he continues, voice appearing faint and far away, mingling with the combined symphony of the crack of leather and pathetic whimpers muffled by sheets.

“It’s incredible,” he says, louder this time, voice dripping with wonderment, as if he can’t believe he’s created such a magnificent piece—the streaks of blood staining once perfect, unblemished skin; the high-pitched whines and sharp cries of each subsequent number; the resounding slap of the belt against your bare ass that evokes it all.

The whole thing sends a surge of intense power rushing through his veins, the tingling buzz it leaves behind enthralling and invigorating. You don’t need to look at him to know this, don’t need to see the way his eyes shine with it, the way his chest heaves with it, the way his entire body trembles with it—you can feel it in the atmosphere surrounding you, can feel the shift as his ego saturates the air, as his pure superiority bleeds into it, dense and suffocating, stimulating and revitalizing.

It infects your body, seeping in through your skin and flooding your veins, re-instills the need to be submissive, the ache to be good, providing you with the strength to endure.

The punishment lasts for forty-five excruciating minutes, accumulating a total of thirty three spanks—the extra three tacked onto your original punishment of thirty, one for each time you broke a rule. He’s on you in less than a second the moment it’s over, belt dropping to the rug-covered floor with a distinct thump as soft, eager palms roam your sweaty body, lips crushed against yours, still trembling as they spill pitiful whimpers into his mouth.

The luxurious bedroom—all cream and gold and drenched in sunlight—is blanketed by backhanded praises, warning you not to be a brat and just take what he gives. He’s sadistic when he gets in moods such as these, a feral glint in crystal eyes as large hands hastily flip you over—so fast it knocks a gasp of his name from your chest—seemingly unconcerned about the fresh blood oozing from the thin swollen welts that embellish your ass staining his thousand dollar sheets.

“Daddy needs you now,” he growls when you try to protest, breathing erratic as fingers flex on your hips, squeezing and kneading before pressing down hard, a silent order to stay fucking put. “And you’re going to be a good little girl for your Daddy now, aren’t you?”

Of course. Of course, because you are a good little girl, his good little girl.

But he’s a bad Daddy.

And, like a bad Daddy, he defers aftercare—it can wait, he practically snarls as he drags you to the edge of the bed, folding your legs up on either side of your body, knees nearly nudging your jaw; and foregoes prep almost entirely—two slender fingers slipping between your slick folds, prodding your hole and deeming you wet enough to take him.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely love it when he gets like this, when that façade of indifference finally shatters to pieces, replaced with desperation, with urgency, with neediness.

Your head lifts from the plush mattress, neck straining a little as you watch him push his trousers down his thighs through bleary eyes, residual dewdrops of tears clinging to spidery lashes. His cock bobs a little as he kicks the pants off, and it’s just as pretty as he is, smooth and symmetrical and perfect in every way.

“This would be part of your punishment,” he pants out, speaking over your cry of discomfort as he begins to shove his cock into you, little cunt aching as it attempts to accommodate the sudden intrusion. “If you didn’t love it so much, fucking slut,”

“Daddy!” The pet name claws its way up your throat in a yelp, hands scrabbling against his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh through his Armani button-up in an effort to steady yourself, eyes squeezing shut against the severe burn that accompanies the stretch. “Gonna—Gonna tear me in half,”

“You’d think you’d be used to this by now,” Satoru muses, voice already returning to its apathetic playful lilt now that he’s half buried in your cunt, breathing already calmed. A malicious little smirk decorates his lips and he observes you as if awestruck, one of his hands moving to trace the curve of your cheek, cold fingertips soft against your scalding skin.

“So beautiful like this,” he whispers as he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against the back of your thighs.

And you are, fresh tears that glitter the way his eyes do in the waning sun streaming down your cheeks, leaving the prettiest streaks of salt staining your flesh; lips swollen from merciless teeth sinking into them, an attempt to silence yourself, to keep those whines and complaints of Stop, Daddy! and Hurts, Daddy! safely stored in your throat.

Your little hole flutters around him, still struggling to adjust to his girth, and his head droops forward, long tongue unfurling from his mouth to lap at the bitter water adorning your face, slow languid strokes from your jaw to your bottom lashes, replacing shimmering tears with viscous saliva.

Saccharine sugar stings your nose, sticky toffee bathed in decadent chocolate and garnished with a touch of vanilla enveloping you in a sickly sweet embrace.

Such a scent—his scent—starkly opposes the vicious snapping of his hips, setting a merciless pace from the very start, blunt nails biting deep half-crescents into your flesh as they hold you in place.

But the pain only heightens the pleasure, contradicting sensations clashing together with every one of his brutal thrusts, cashmere feeling as rough as sandpaper against your raw, wounded ass. Thorns of pain pierce through your abdomen and shoot up your spine, back arching off the bed, and the muscles in your thighs flex and clench with every slam of his cockhead against your cervix.

It’s potent and intoxicating, a heady exhilaration clouding your brain and flooding your veins, and soon there are tears leaking from your eyes again, dribbling into your mouth and mixing with strings of drool that coat the words you’re babbling out.

Blood rushes in your ears, procuring a deafening ring, and you’re not even sure what you’re saying anymore, voice vibrating indistinctly in your chest as saliva soaked mewls ooze from your mouth. Your Daddy’s staring down at you, condescension etched into his pretty features, eyes morphing from dainty crystal to the navy of a tumultuous sea, framed by strands of cream and ivory dripping with sweat.

And he’s so big, too big, stuffing you full to the hilt with each ruthless piston of his hips, mattress trembling beneath you from the sheer strength; and it’s so much, too much, you swear you can feel him in your tummy, can see the way your lower abdomen cutely bulges in synchronization with every pounding thrust.

You must say it in some way, in some shape or some form, because the patronization varnishing his features melts away, sharp smirk dissolving into a genuine grin, blue eyes lightening with pure adoration.

“Such a good girl,” you think he’s saying, through it’s hard to tell when your eyelids keep drooping, hard to hear when a symphony of broken moans and hitched whimpers and the sharp slapping of skin against skin blanket the room, reverberating off the walls of your skull. “You’re such a good, good girl for me,”

Yes, Daddy, you want to say, such a good girl for you, only for you.

“Y-Yours,” you manage instead, locking your arms around his neck and clinging to him.

“Mine,” he growls, possessiveness lacquering his eyes, brilliant and bright and shining with devotion. “That’s right, mine,”

It only takes another three thrusts before you’re gushing all over his cock, the intense spasming of your cute little cunt drawing the prettiest whines from the back of his throat as he rams into you.

“Beg for it,” he demands, and although it’s an order, it comes out more like a plead, desperation sown into his voice. “Beg for Daddy’s cum,”

You obey immediately, words spilling from your lips without a second thought, automatic and instinctual. Please, Daddy, gimme your cum? Please, please, pretty please, want your cum, Daddy, fill my belly with it, Daddy, I need it, need it so bad, please?

He gives you what you want only a moment later, cock throbbing almost violently as he fills you with thick, scalding cream—so much that you’re sure it’s dribbling out of you, trickling down your ass and onto his pristine sheets—and you roll your hips up, attempting to milk him for more.

“G-Greedy,” he pants out, but there’s a dazzling smile slapped across his face, and so much love in his eyes it’s nearly overwhelming, a fresh wave of tears casting a gleaming shield across your own.

He notices immediately, both of you wincing a little as he pulls out, a wrecked little whine escaping your mouth.

“My poor little princess,” he’s saying as he untangles his briefs—Balenciaga, this time—from his trousers, abandoned in a heap on the hardwood.

“Daddy,” you rasp, a frown marring his face, fingers encircling your ankles as he helps you unfold your stiff legs.

“I know, I know,” he’s murmuring as gentle hands pull the soft clothing up your silky thighs. “It hurts, I know baby, Daddy’s gonna make it feel better now,”

A shiver courses through your body, and he tuts, nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off before he hoists you up and drapes it over your shoulders, tenderly threading your arms through the sleeves.

It’s cozy, and warm, infused with his scent—melted sugar and expensive cologne—and you snuggle into it, weak arms pulling the material tighter around your body, swathing it in comfort. Tears prick your eyes again, blearily blinking them clear as you glance up to find him backing away. A noise of indignance sounds in the back of your throat, eyebrows knitting together as you make grabby hands for him.

“I’ll be right back, princess,” he reassures you as he laces your fingers together and allows you to pull him back towards you, voice soothing like a lullaby. Fingers trail along the curve of your cheek then trace the line of your jaw, palms smoothing hair back from your face. “Daddy’s just going to go get the first aid kit so he can clean you up, okay?”

“‘N then food?”

He coos with a little chuckle, cupping your head as he tilts it up towards him, eyes overflowing with fondness.

“Yeah, baby, and then food. Whatever you want, it’s yours,”

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy, but he is also your Daddy, and that makes him the best Daddy.

[chokiipng]

Hay fever : Genshin various

a/n : suffering from seasonal allergies isn't fun . so instead of trying to do school work, i'm gonna write hcs to make myself feel better

character(s) : Xiao, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe contents : fluff with a bit of crack (my specialty) + : reader has really bad seasonal allergies

Xiao :

he doesn't really understand tbh

he plays it off as a common cold at first and entrusts you with Verr, much to her annoyance. he didn't realize the true severity of the situation until a week had passed.

he's heard of seasonal allergies before, so it's not like he was entirely clueless, he just didn't know how to go about treating it.

because of this, he turned into a big ball of concern for the entirety of spring

he asked everyone he could for help, even that ginger haired harbinger (to which he had no clue since he basically lives on an iceberg)

this also happened to peek Zhongli's interest, who then took him to Bubu pharmacy to learn more. it took Xiao about 5 different interrogations to actually visit Bubu, he cursed himself internally for not checking there in the first place

of course, Baizhu laughed it off and informed the both of them on how allergies work, how they're triggered, and how to prevent/soothe them

if you sneezed/sniffled, he was immediately by your side with a tissue and some water. itchy eyes, he had a small bottle of eyedrops for you courtesy of Dr. Baizhu and Qiqi

it was amusing to say the least, watching a feared Yaksha running around frantically in order to soothe your allergies

of course, he soon picked up that it was because you went outside every goddamn day to complete commissions and to pick flowers for who knows who (Qiqi, you often found yourself picking herbs with her because who could say no to that face?)

he legit locked you in your room at Wangshuu Inn and did your commissions for you. he didn't want you in any pain, so he stayed with you when he finished all of his tasks

he didn't isolate you though, but if he takes you out he makes sure you take your allergy medicine (given by Qiqi, ty bby) and that you have a mask on

Diluc :

he never really experienced hay fever, but he knows the gist of it

he's heard stories of it from customers of the Angel's Share and was immensely grateful to the Archons for blessing him with immunity to seasonal allergies

but he wasn't prepared to catch you practically sneezing your guts out one morning

Diluc drops everything, much to Adelinde's horror, and orders for a box of tissues and water immediately. he whips out the blankets from under the couch that he knew you hid and props you on some pillows he fluffed in a panicked rush

the maids watch with a nervous chuckle as he runs around the mansion, completely forgetting about his shift at the Angel's Share and his nightly heroic duties

as soon as he calms down from the initial shock of how hard allergies hit you, he asks you how your feeling and if he can do anything

the next day he asks Donna (who stutters at his mere presence), who mind you is an employee at the Floral Whisper, since Flora isn't there herself about hay fever. he figured that people who worked at a flower shop would know about allergies caused by the pollen produced by flowers

he brings back medicine that you've been instructed to take daily as to lessen the affects of your allergies

despite his day duties, he offers to take up your daily commissions during the days you are physically unable to do them or just does them of his own volition

he trusts that the maids will take care of you in his stead

in the mean time, you're allowed to roam the city as you wish, but that's about it. he threatened Lawrence and Swan that they would feel the wrath of retribution if you stepped foot outside the city

Mondstadt was a land of eternal springtime, there was no way in hell he was letting you out of the city without his supervision

while all of this may be a bit much, he makes sure to let you know that this is just him caring for you. he doesn't want to seem overbearing and trusts that you know what's happening to your body and how to treat it

Kaeya :

he laughs at your demise

what did you expect ?

but he really is worrying on the inside

he makes sure to check in with Barbara just to make sure that you're not suffering from a lethal disease

once he knows that they're just seasonal allergies, (almost) all his worries subside and he sighs of relief

he notifies Jean beforehand (but sometimes forgets), he works considerably less during the time of your allergies since he doesn't really trust anyone else to take care of you

he also doesn't drink as much, surprising, he knows

he refrains from bringing you flowers as he usually does and instead spoils you with unnecessary affection

Kaeya doesn't worry as much since he puts faith in you that you know what's going on in your body. since they're seasonal allergies, he realizes that you must've gone through this before and know how to treat it

since you can't really cure it, you just act more cautious in the outdoors

he often accompanies you on your daily commissions and such, just to be sure that your okay. he takes over the moment you pause to sneeze or itch your nose even once

aside from this, he's the other reason why your allergies are unbearable

once they're all done and over, he teases you relentlessly about how reliant you were on him when in reality it was him doing your tasks of his own volition rather than you asking him. you told him several times that you could handle it, but he persisted nonetheless

he's more reasonable during your hay fever, and despite his unnecessary comments, you find it endearing

Albedo :

he is among the few men who are actually calm during the situation, but since when is he not?

he probably already has a remedy for you that greatly lessens the affect of your allergies

but even without it, he trusts that you know how to handle it

the only factor in here that would cause chaos-

is Klee

once Klee hears you sneeze all hell breaks loose in Albedo's workspace

she runs around everywhere looking for tissues and then ends up bringing Mondstadt's entire supply, which you and Albedo laugh nervously at

once Klee calms down, you explain the bare minimum of hay fever, which she manages to understand

while he has faith that you can treat it yourself, Albedo still recommends that you stay inside more rather than going out exploring and looking for chests, to which you sheepishly comply

Jean cannot thank you enough when it comes to Klee's behavior during this season, as Klee tends to spend more time at home with you and Albedo once you finish your commissions so that "you don't feel lonely!"

she even drew you a picture to show how much she cared!

if you can't sleep at night because of your allergies, Albedo (who is probably still up working) will gladly allow you to indulge in his studies or to just simply read with you until you fall asleep

he too is also happy that you managed to tame Klee

Childe :

this man has no idea what the fuck hay fever is

need I remind you that he grew up in the land of perpetual winter, hay fever doesn't even exist to him. unlike everyone else, he hasn't even heard of the concept

so when you hold a finger up during your weekly sparring, he pauses with a curious tilt of his head

he screams in horror as you sneeze out all of your bodily fluids not once, not twice, but three times

Childe calls off the spar and cradles you in your arms as if you're about to die

it's until he rushes you to Baizhu in a panicked frenzy that he realizes that its...a fever?

now Baizhu is a patient man, he had to raise a zombie child who basically loses her memory each time she wakes up and wields a sword/cryo abilities

but he was getting tired of Childe's endless questions quick.

Childe shrieks as the normally passive pharmacist slams his hands down on the counter with a sickeningly sweet smile

he ceases in his questions, apologizes for bothering him, and races back to the Northland Bank in a cold sweat

it takes you explaining it in a calm voice for him to finally understand it

and he takes this very seriously

while he knows that it's seasonal and that you've gone through it before, he can't help but worry for you

he coddles you, and he doesn't relent even if you tell him

he slaps a mask on you, takes away your fighting privileges, and even order his subordinates to keep an eye on you at all times

that is if he's not already

he clings

he's attached to you

he just wants you to feel better, and you appreciate it, but it can get a little too much sometimes

and while you do tell him this, the same situation happens every year when spring comes around and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Baizhu can't catch a break from the rowdy harbinger

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

omg I love your work very much! You write really great and it's a pleasure to read you. I have a small request, if it's possible. I've never read this before so why write a one-shot (or series?) with a reader pregnant with chishiya ? (pleassse) With this news, it becomes extremely protective with the reader. Thank you so much !!

Yeah sure! Here you go! ❤

Trying My Best | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

{Main Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Ann, OC)

Summary: You tell Chishiya that you’re pregnant and his change in behaviour from the news is hard not to notice

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, murder, swearing, graphic violence (guns), heavy angst, vomiting, panicking, blood

Word Count: 3.3k

*reader is female

Chishiya gif credit

“Chishiya, I think I’m pregnant.”

The statement hit the young man like a thousand knives. He stood up on the roof of the hotel, the moon reflecting off his glowing skin. You stared at his side profile, waiting for his reaction to the news, but he merely sighed and tucked a piece of his bleached hair behind his ears. “How do you know?”

“I’ve been throwing up a lot, without even feeling nauseated at first. It just suddenly hits and I have to run to the bathroom,” you began listing your symptoms to back your claim. “I also have been a lot more tired, going to bed super early and waking up super late. As well as my period hasn’t come yet, and it’s been a week since it was due.”

You still kept your eyes on Chishiya, trying to figure out how he was feeling. His emotions hardly ever come through his body language. He seemed too calm for your liking, but you couldn’t exactly tell because you weren’t able to see his eyes.

“It is mine?” he asked, turning to you with a serious expression. Your eyes widened in shock. “Whose else would it be Chishiya?” you exclaimed, shoving his shoulder in disbelief.

Chishiya smirked and looked away from you again. “Just making sure.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

The question took Chishiya off guard. “That’s not my choice to make,” he said.

“Yeah but if it were?” you pressed, sliding along the railing until your sides were touching. Chishiya went quiet for a few minutes, thinking about his answer. “I would hate to bring a baby into this world if I’m being totally honest,” he started. “But it’s not like we have a choice.”

You nodded and laid your head on his shoulder, feeling safe and sound against his warmth and scent. He laid his cheek on top of your head and sighed heavily.

“What are we going to do Chishiya? We’re too young to be parents, let alone in a world like this.” You felt your eyes start to water but tried your best to hold in your cries. You were terrified. Not only would you have to go through nine months of pregnancy, you would also have to play games in order to keep your visa valid.

“Hey,” you heard Chishiya say. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll push through this together. And I’ll make sure I’m here with you every step of the way.”

His words made you smile sadly, and droop your head down into your hands. You cried softly as Chishiya rubbed your back in a comforting manner.

It would be tough, impossible even. But the both of you had each other, and that’s all you needed to push through.

***********

Ever since that evening on the roof with Chishiya when you told him about the baby, he had acted strangely since.

He had lost his cocky and smug personality, being replaced by a cautious and anxious type of behaviour. You began to feel worried about him, because it was so out of character.

It didn’t go unnoticed by other members of The Beach either. Although you hadn’t told anyone else about the news (wanting to keep it between you and Chishiya), you found yourself being confronted by a lot of people asking if Chishiya was okay.

Ann mentioned that during a meeting he rushed out suddenly, not even stopping to say where he was going or why. You reassured her that he was fine, and that the stress of the games may have just started getting to his head a bit.

It was like you were suddenly dating a whole different person. There wasn’t a moment where he wasn’t by your side, always asking if you needed anything or that you were okay. He’d refuse to let you do the smallest of things, liking lifting heavy objects or even dancing in the crowd at night. There were times you would have to reason with him and remind him that you weren’t helpless, and you were basically only a few weeks pregnant, and he was acting like you were eight months. He always shrugged it off though and argued back that he just felt overwhelmed, so he wanted to try his best to be the best partner he could be during the stressful time.

But when push came to shove and you had to participate in games to renew your visa, Chishiya always insisted that he went with you. Even if you said no and tried to convince him that you would be fine, he refused to listen. You didn’t have a chance when trying to reason with his stubbornness.

*************

You had decided to participate in a game a few days earlier than when your visa would expire so you wouldn’t have the stress of having to rush to one on the night it expired. As well as you had been feeling okay for the past few hours and you didn’t want to lose the opportunity of clearing a game when you were at your best instead of being forced to play one on one of your worse days.

When you told Chishiya your plan, you ended up having a small argument. Chishiya thought it was unreasonable for you to put yourself in danger when it could be prevented, as well as he felt anxious due to you not being able to perform to the best of your ability because you were holding your child.

But after you both calmed down after realizing that arguing would get you nowhere, you both decided to go to the game that night, as long as Chishiya was able to come with you.

The game was simple enough. It was a six of clubs. Each player had to find an area of the building to stay put in no more than groups of three. You were able to move around these small areas, but once the game started and you were inside one, you were not permitted to leave your area. There were four seekers, each with a different animal mask on their heads. Each area in the building also represented one of the seeker’s animals. The goal was to kill the seeker that had the animal corresponding to your area. So the players would have to create a way to lure the seeker’s to their position, but if they lure the wrong one, they would have to hide until they left.

To clear the game, players would have to kill all four of the seekers. But if they failed to do so in the time limit, flames would emerge from the ground of all areas, killing all the remaining players.

In the registration room, Chishiya kept a firm grip on your arm, making you stay close to him. There were two tables, one holding the usual phones for the players, but the other was covered with a variety of hand-held weapons, scattered across the top of it.

Chishiya strolled over to the weapon table and scanned the dangerous objects. He reached to a moderately sized blade and felt it in his hand before turning to you and holding it out, wanting you to take it.

“Here, you have this one. If we happen to get separated and you come across one of the seekers, give them a short jab to the throat with this. I have my taser to defend me.”

“We won’t get separated, we have designated areas.”

Chishiya looked directly in your eyes and sighed, placing a hand on your head. “You know what I mean.”

You hung your head low. He was meaning if he was to die. “Don’t you dare die on me now Chishiya. If you do anything reckless, you bet your stupid ass I will make sure you survive this game just so I can kill you later.”

Chishiya chuckled at your threat, allowing you to see his shiny teeth in a smile. He knew that if there would be a point that you were in any kind of potential danger, he would throw himself in front of you. His life wasn’t worth as much as yours or his child’s, to him at least.

Around ten minutes later, you both sat in a dark room that had a large painting of a wedge-tailed eagle across one of the walls. You both already assumed that was the seeker you were trying to attract. You came up with the plan to wait a short while before starting to attract the eagle’s attention, because then other people may have already killed their seeker, making it less of a chance for a different animal to come find you.

You both sat in silence on the uncomfortable couch that had springs and stuffing pouring out of it. It was the only piece of furniture in the room, so there wasn’t really anywhere else to wait.

You groaned as a short stab of pain shot through your lower abdomen, making Chishiya snap his head to you and place a soft hand over your arm that held your stomach area. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

You waved your hand in front of you. “It’s fine, just a cramp.”

Chishiya sighed in relief and rubbed your back soothingly. You swore you could hear his heartbeat through his chest, thumping against his ribcage rapidly. He was terrified, but he sure knew how to hide it from you.

You both sat in silent together, your head leaning against Chishiya’s chest as he stroked your head softly, trying to keep your nerves down. “How are we going to keep this up Chishiya?” you asked out of the blue. Chishiya hummed in acknowledgement. “I don’t know, we’ll just take one step at a time.”

The situation was overwhelming for you. With the mix of the fear of dying, your stomach cramps, Chishiya’s comforting voice and the eerie atmosphere, you couldn’t help but feel tears of stress start developing in your eyes. Before you could even get the chance to wipe them away, a sudden sob erupted from your throat, making you cover your mouth and push your face further into Chishiya’s chest.

“Aw no, don’t cry,” Chishiya cooed, wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you close. “We’re going to be fine. Trust me,” Chishiya pulled back and held your teary face in his palms. “As long as I’m here, nothing’s going to hurt you.”

You smiled at his promise, leaning into his touch on your cheek, making his face glow slightly pink.

As you and Chishiya stayed huddled close together and spoke in whispered tones, you froze as you began to hear a small noise just outside the door of the room.

Chishiya didn’t seem to hear it, and he kept talking. “Shh!” you said, cutting him off. He frowned at you and followed your gaze to the large, grey door that stood opposite to your position on the couch.

Silence filled the air as you both tried hard to listen. The tension in the room was making you almost suffocate.

“I think there’s someone outside.” you stated, standing up from your position and slowly beginning to shuffle along the floor towards the door. But Chishiya rushed after you and pulled you back before your hand could touch the door handle.

“What are you doing?!” he whisper-yelled, turning you towards him by moving your shoulders. You blinked at him, confused. “What do you mean? We need to kill it!”

“But we don’t know if it’s the eagle or not. It’s better if we hide until we’re sure it’s the one we have to kill.”

“We haven’t got time! We have less than five minutes to finish the game, so the chance of the eagle being the only one left is quite likely.”

“You don’t know that. And we aren’t even sure whether they carry weapons or not. It’s too high of a risk, and I’m not letting you put yourself in danger like that, especially when you’re pregnant with our child.”

“For fucks sake Chishiya! I’m not defenseless!”

Your yells became louder and louder with each argumentative statement, which eventually gave away your position to the seeker that stood just outside the door.

Just as you were about to rip away from Chishiya’s grip on your shoulder when you heard the large door creak open. You both turned around abruptly at the sound and laid on your eyes on a tall figure with an eagle mask covering his face. In his hand he held a small machine gun, making Chishiya’s stomach drop at the sight of it.

“Y/N!”

He grabbed your shoulders once again as you stood there in shock, not being able to move. Chishiya yelled as he pulled you roughly further into the room towards another small door that led to a closet. A few rounds of bullets shot around the room, illuminating the small space for a few short milliseconds and making the both of you develop a piercing ringing noise in your ears.

Chishiya pulled you against him as you struggled, pushing you against the wall with him in front of you, shielding you from the seeker. As he did so, he ripped the small closet door open beside you and shoved you inside, panicking and trying to get you to safety as soon as possible.

You fell to the floor of the closet, a small groan leaving your mouth as you hit the ground harshly. You were about to stand up again to push yourself out to help Chishiya, but he kicked you down before you had the chance. Your eyes landed on his, filled with frustration, but they softened as they saw the waterfalls cascading down his face.

“Please,” he choked out, putting the door behind him so the seeker can’t shoot him from the back. “For once in your life just listen to me and stay in here. Please don’t come out.”

That’s all he said before he stepped around the closet door and slammed it shut. The absolute fear and sadness on his face was burnt into your mind. You had never seen Chishiya hold such dreadful emotion on his features. It made you feel awfully guilty for picking a fight with him.

You finally came to your senses, the ringing in your ears faded and the gunshots just outside the door made your head spin. You sobbed and covered your ears with your hands, trying to block out the sounds. Your stomach churned and groaned, and you suddenly felt the urge to throw up.

You lunged forward from your sitting position on the floor and emptied the contents of your stomach on the tiled ground, coughing and gagging on the putrid smell and taste of it in your mouth.

“Fuck,” you mumbled out, rubbing your eyes to clear the tears dripping from them.

Something shifted in the pocket of your jeans, making you turn your head and place a hand over the object. Reaching in, you hissed as a sharp blade slightly cut your finger. You pulled it out gently and held it in front of you.

It was the blade Chishiya gave you at the start of the game.

“I can’t abandon him. My last words to him can’t be an argument,” you rasped out, putting a hand to your chest to recover your breathing. “I’m not going to let him die. He can’t escape being a father that easily.”

Slowly you lifted yourself up onto your feet, using the shelves in the closet as leverage. You shuffled towards the door, holding your blade out in front of you, ready to attack if you needed. You weren’t thinking straight, at that moment you didn’t even think about the fact that the seeker had a gun, all you could think about was Chishiya.

You slowly pressed down on the door handle, opening it carefully in case the seeker was still in the room. It was back to it’s darkness, making your heart drop lower.

You stepped out around the door. It was eerily quiet, making you become anxious. Something must have happened. It wouldn’t be this quiet if Chishiya and the seeker were still fighting.

A sudden wet feeling on your foot broke you from your thoughts and you glanced down to see a dark liquid seeping into your shoe. You leaned down to look at it more closely, noticing how a strong metallic smell filled your nostrils as you did so.

It was blood, but whose blood was it?

Your breathing began to quicken as you started panicking. It was a large puddle, there was no way Chishiya would survive if he got injured that badly.

“Chishiya!” you yelled out, hearing nothing but your own echo answering you. You held no care for being heard by the potentially still alive seeker at that moment. All you wanted was to find Chishiya.

“Chishiya, please!” You lifted your feet and rushed to the grey door where the seeker originally came from. It was slightly ajar and a light from the hallway outside was shining through into the room.

You pushed through the door, almost tripping over in the process. Further up the hall, two people laid on the ground. One was on their back with no movement while the other was leant up against the wall clutching their shoulder.

The injured one wore a white hoodie, making you immediately recognize them as your partner.

“Oh my god, Chishiya.” you whispered as you approached him, eyes locking on the large blood stain on his white hoodie. “Y/N, I told you to stay in the room,” he groaned out.

You placed a hand against his that held his wound, trying to keep pressure on it to lessen the bleeding. “I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to let you die that easy.”

He smiled up at you, a pained expression on his face as he hissed and whimpered at the pain of his wound. “They got me in the shoulder, but that was it.”

“You should be fine. If we get back to The Beach and get Ann to remove the bullet, it’ll heal fine.”

He knew you didn’t really know that. You were trying to reassure yourself that he would live. But either way, he wasn’t planning on dying on you anytime soon.

You looked away from him, glancing over at the figure lying on the ground motionless. The eagle mask was still lazily placed on their face. Chishiya probably didn’t want to remove it out of respect for the individual.

“How’d you kill them?” you asked, locking eyes with him once again.

“A few shocks around the ears to knock them out. But I didn’t take any sharp blades with me so I had to get creative,” he explained, nodding over towards a small slab of metal that laid a few metres away. “After a few hits with that to their head, they were gone.”

You cringed at the thought, but you appreciated Chishiya having the bravery to do that.

You felt a soft hand pressing itself against your stomach, rubbing the spot up and down. “Are they okay?”

A smile spread across your face. “I think so. They didn’t help much by making me throw up in the closet,” you laughed, making Chishiya grin.

“Causing mum trouble already.”

A happy tune being played from each of your pockets caught your attention.

“Game Clear. Congratulations.”

The reality suddenly hit you. You were alive and so was Chishiya. And although you would have to go through many more traumatic and harsh events such as the one you had just experienced, you would at least be there for each other, whether the outcome was bad or not.

“Come on. Let’s go home,” Chishiya groaned, using his good arm to push himself up. You helped him by lifting him by his shoulders.

You were alive today, and that’s all that mattered. You would worry about tomorrow when it comes round to it.

[baroquebucky]

idk if you’re taking requests but if you are could i get a loki one shot where the reader is super shy and quiet and the only person at the tower she really talks to is natasha but the others have tried and failed. but eventually loki comes to the tower and he gets her to trust him and she opens up to him?? or something along those lines lol i’m just in desperate need of some loki fluff🥺 also i absolutely adore your writing 🥰💓

a/n: yup yup ! i don’t write for loki much so i hope this isn’t too out of character !!

in which loki manages to break down your walls, magic free

word count: 2k

masterlist

You sat next to Natasha, quiet as the others laughed at the movie. You leaned over making a small comment to Natasha causing her to burst out laughing, the other looking over to see what had happened.

“tell them!” Natasha nudged you and you shook your head, looking at your hands as natasha repeated your comment, everyone bustling out into a fit of laughter.

“y/n is the funniest person here nobody can change my mind” Tony piped up, smiling at you as your face burned.

The rest of the night went smoothly, keeping to yourself and whispering to natasha, making her giggle.

“you really should try talking to the other y/n, they love you” nat urged you, walking to your rooms to settle in for the night. You shook your head, heart racing at the idea.

“no, i mean they seem nice it’s just i don’t know i get so nervous i don’t wanna make a fool out of myself and plus they’re so intimidating” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders as you stopped at your room.

“you know you’re an avenger too right?” Nat laughed as you rolled your eyes, waving her off and saying goodnight.

Morning rolled around soon enough and you walked out, steve and Sam saying good morning and you smiled at them, rushing to make a bowl fo cereal and sitting a couple seats away from them.

“so y/n what are you gonna do today?” Steve smiled, trying to make conversation with you.

You thought for a bit before answering, “not much, just train maybe uh, i might go shopping with nat later” you replied, ending the conversation and finishing up your food.

You excused yourself before they could say anything else.

“you know thor is brining his brother today” sam called out and you looked at him confused.

“battle of New York one?” You questioned and he nodded, you raised your brows in surprise.

“he’s good now, nice guy i think” steve added, not wanting to worry you. You only nodded your head and left the kitchen, going to train for the rest of the morning.

“is everybody here?” Thor boomed, a smile on his face as his brother stood next to him, arms crossed across his chest.

“where is y/n? Will she be joining us?” Thor questioned, slightly upset you weren’t there.

“I’ll get her she’s probably sleeping or something” Natasha smiled, heading to your room.

She knocked on your door, letting herself in after a couple seconds and found you passed out on your bed, a book next to your head.

Shaking you gently she woke you up, “y/n, wake up thor brought his brother Cmon” she spoke quietly as you stirred awake.

“what? what time is it?” you questioned, yawning and rubbing your eyes, looking around for a bit.

“3:12, you knocked out after our session this morning” she smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“told you i stayed up late” you defended, getting up and putting on some socks.

Natasha was in a t shirt and some sweats, so you figured your t shirt and shorts weren’t too bad. Surely the rest of the team was dressed casually too.

You entered the living room, still half asleep following Natasha, waving hi to everybody.

“now that everyone is here, this is loki, my brother! he’s a good guy now and since we’re gonna be splitting time between here and Asgard i figured a proper introduction was over due” Thor beamed at everyone.

“well hi loki, nice to uh- meet you, again” steve spoke up, trying to get the others to say hi.

“mm a pleasure” loki gave him a tight smile, you rolled your eyes at his tone. You finally looked at him, he was dressed in an all black suit and dress shoes, you scoffed at his outfit.

“you always dress like that?” You spoke up, upset that he had been rude to steve. Everyone’s eyes went wide, turning to face you and loki looked shocked.

“and you are?” Loki shot back, checking you out.

“y/n, and you should be nicer” you quipped, narrowing your eyes at him. Natasha smirked at loki, knowing how sassy you could be after a nap.

“you’ve got a quick wit, i like that” loki smiled and you rolled your eyes, shifting your weight onto your other leg.

As everyone else warmed up loki you stayed an arms length away, only speaking up when someone talked directly to you.

You slowly moved away from the group, turning to sneak away to your room. A smile on your face as you turned around, only to bump into someone’s chest.

“leaving my welcome party so soon, love?” Loki smiled as you stumbled back, eyes widening.

“how- you were just over there?” You gawked, looking back where you saw another loki sitting and chatting with the others.

“magic, did they not tell you about me darling?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“no yeah they did, just didn’t pay much mind is all” you smiled, crossing your arms across your chest.

“you know, they didn’t tell me much about you, why’s that?” Loki asked, leaning against the wall and you fiddlers with your fingers.

“don’t really talk to them much, i- uh I’m pretty reserved” you spoke, a wave of realization washing over you as you fully woke up.

“don’t seem that shy to me” he smirked and you shook your head.

“no i was just really tired I’m so sorry I’m usually not like that I’m so sorry oh god” you spoke, fumbling over your words as your face grew hot from embarrassment.

“don’t apologize, i liked it” he smiled, pushing himself off the wall and moving so the oath to your room was no longer blocked.

“cant wait to see you around y/n” he spoke, letting you walk past him, biting your lip to contain your smile.

And you sure did see him around, telling him good morning when he sat himself next to you during breakfast, sparring with him when he suggested it after walking into the gym.

Loki found himself gravitating towards you, wanting to know everything about you, your favorite color, your middle name, your biggest fears. He wanted to know you.

He was persistent, constantly talking to you and spending time with you, he found himself doing things he never thought he would just to spend time with you. It’s how he was in his current predicament.

“okay just don’t smile or else it’ll crack” you replied, finishing brushing the green face mask on him, letting him use one of your head bands, one with pink fluffy bunny ears (he chose it himself).

“how can i not smile when the most beautiful person in all the nine realms is right here” he replied, making you roll your eyes.

You settled into you before, scooting next to him and turning on your favorite show. Both of you watching attentively as your masks dried.

“can i ask you something?” Loki spoke suddenly, you turned to look at him, a small hum signaling to continue.

“why don’t you talk to the others?” He asked softly, taking your hand in his to comfort you.

You let a couple moments pass to gather your thoughts, finally speaking up.

“they’re just really intimidating to me, i mean i grew up admiring steve and the other have saved the world countless times, I’ve helped them once but i didn’t even play that big of a role, it’s just really daunting you know?” He looked at the way your fingers intertwined and held back a smile.

“how come you weren’t scared to talk to me?” you looked at him, laughing softly.

“oh no i was scared shitless, you just wouldn’t leave me alone so i really had no choice” you replied, looking at your hands connected.

“is that how Natasha got close to you?”

You nodded, remembering the way she pestered you until you two became the best of friends, never leaving each other’s side for a whole week.

“well, i hope you know that I’m not going anywhere” he spoke, moving to face you. Reluctantly, you looked at him, tension thick in the air.

“what makes you so sure?” You asked, looking into his eyes.

Both of you leaned in a little, your breath hitched in your throat as you leaned closer, and closer, and-

ding! ding! ding!

Both of you jumped away at the sound of the alarm, clearing your throats and moving to wash the face mask off.

After you had both washed off the mask you headed back to your bed, sitting down with some space between your bodies. The sound of the show filling the room, neither one of you saying anything.

“what do-”

“why do-”

You both quieted at the sound of the others voice, laughing a little as you both stopped. He motioned for you to continue.

“what do you think about me?” You asked, fiddling with your fingers and picking at your nails, glancing at him for a second before focusing back to on your fingers.

“i think” he trailed off, scooting closer to you, “that you are one of the most amazing people I’ve met, that you are kind, funny and exciting” he finished, your thighs touching as you looked up at him.

“really?” you whispered, dizzy from how close the two of you were.

“absolutely.”

“what were you gonna say?” you asked, giving him a small smile before focusing on the tv show.

“why are you so sure that I’m gonna leave?” He questioned, eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes.

“i- well i never open up to people so they always just leave” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows before continuing.

“when i was in high school and such i used to be really outgoing and loud, everyone would tell me to be quiet when i got excited so i just kinda stopped altogether, no one complained much then” you laughed dryly, remembering the way your friends would get annoyed at how bubbly you were.

“they all left me after i stopped being loud, said i was boring.”

Loki felt his heart fall in his chest, he was angry at you past friends, but he was sad that you had changed so much for people who didn’t appreciate you.

“darling, look at me” he spoke softly, eyes meeting yours.

“i promise you that no one here thinks you are too much, i mean we have that falcon guy and spider boy, i can assure you they won’t tell you to tone it down” he reassured you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“how about we make a deal” loki smirked and you looked at him with narrow eyes.

“what kind of deal” you asked, suspicious of what he would propose.

“you try to come out of your shell more, and I’ll be nicer to the rest of the team” he stated simply, smiling at the way you thought about his deal, he could almost see the gears turning in your head.

“deal” you smiled, turning to look at him and extending you hand out.

He took your hand and pulled you to him, stopping you centimeters away from his face.

“may i?” He asked, eyes focused on your lips.

“yeah” you whispered breathlessly, crashing your lips onto his.

You both pulled away, a smile on your faces, you laughed at the way he immediately pulled you in for more.

You and Loki left your room not long after, knowing the team would be out and about despite it being almost 12 am.

“hi guys” steve smiled and you returned it, walking at bit faster before loki stopped you.

“remember our deal?” he whispered and you internally groaned, nodding and walking over to steve, heart pounding in your chest.

“hi Steve how has your day been?” You smiled, steve was taken back but quickly replied, easily falling into conversation with you.

Loki watched from a far, a smile on his face as you laughed, making conversation with the super soldier. Natasha stood next the Norse god, a smile on her face.

“Glad you could get her out of her shell” she smiled, eyes settling on you talking with Steve and Sam who had joined in.

“she just needed an extra push” Loki smiled, excited to see you become who you really were. Natasha felt her heart grow, she couldn’t wait for the team to appreciate you for who you always have been.

[a-detraque-barista]

Zombie Killer

Yandere Zombie Namjoon x Reader

Genre: yandere, gore, zombie, character deaths (but not graphic yet)

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: i love this man and i'm so glad i finally finished something with him in it. i hope this wasn't too rushed because i did write the majority of it back in 2019 but i hope you all enjoy nonetheless <3

It's been two years since the zombie apocalypse began. You've been on your own for exactly one year, seven months, and forty-nine days now. Wandering the world as you tried to find a safe haven that wasn't infected with undead cannibals. You don't hide behind doors very often anymore, you've learned it only makes you want to stay inside and rot while trembling in fear. You hated the way fear makes you so vulnerable. Adapting to the outside world was your only option before going insane. Carrying multiple weapons with you made you able to survive much longer than hiding in buildings.

People call you crazy and barbaric because you chose to survive by any means necessary. That's what your best friend had told you before getting bitten. And so, your survival of the fittest instinct kicked in once you shot your best friend in the face. Twice. Ever since then you've been wandering the streets of different cities. If you see a group of zombies then you stay clear. You were a badass zombie killing machine, but you knew when to pick your fights.

You had just sneaked off the ship you stowed away on for the past week. Immediately, you identified the native language here as Korean. Before the outbreak happened you had tried to learn the Korean language. You had only gotten so far in the lessons but you can still make sentences.

Sticking to the shadows you kept your guard up just in case anything tried to attack you. Overall, these streets were deserted and you didn't see or hear any sign of life or even the undead. You spotted a convenience store with the glass of the sliding doors broken. You had to at least look for food, so you headed inside after checking with your shotgun was loaded. You only had two more shells left so you needed to get rid of it now that its weight was holding you back. Stepping silently and diligently, you made your way to the dry food section. The shelves were almost completely bare. There were ramyeon packs left which you quickly put in your bag. You also found chips in another one of the aisles on the floor. You didn't bother looking for water, already knowing that it was long gone. What you did look for was tea. Not everyone knows that it's the second-best thing to drink when there's no water. And as you expected, there were tons of different flavored teas. Grabbing the peach, strawberry, green, and watermelon you made your way out of the store to see a group of masked people walking by.

They spotted you almost immediately as you froze and waited to see what they would do. Your thick black mask covered your face as much as theirs but they had hoods and hats covering their foreheads. No matter if you were a zombie or not most people tried to kill you. You had no idea why maybe it was just their need to be the last and the strongest kicking in.

Then all of a sudden there were five guns pointed at your head. See? All you did was stand there and apparently that's a threat. Pointing your gun at them would only make things worse given that you're outnumbered so you ran. Turning the corner once their guns began to fire, you ended up sprinting through the alleys. Always making sure you turned a corner every chance you got so you couldn't get shot.

You stopped to take a breath as you crouched down while panting. You had to leave your motorcycle behind so it had been a while since you’ve run that far. Hearing a crash further down the alley, you held your shotgun up trying to see what had made the sound. Nothing moved for a while so you slowly backed away and turned around quickly to run but all you found was one of the masked men from earlier.

“We need to go,” you spoke to the man quietly before another crash sounded from behind you. Trying to run past the man, he stopped you and pushed you back toward the alley. Holding his gun aimed at your head.

“Drop it,” you dropped your shotgun. “Walk,” he hissed and you turned back around to see a pair of ivory eyes staring at you.

How did you not notice them before? They stood out so vividly against the dark shadows of the alley. No doubt a zombie, but it wasn’t attacking. You felt the gun in the middle of your back push you towards the flesh-eating monster in front of you. In the blink of an eye, the ivory irises were no longer in front of you and the man behind you was screaming before having his jaw detached from his skull.

This zombie was like no other, it was quick, intelligent, and strong. Hearing the other men approaching, the zombie took your hand into its own and hurried deeper into the alley. Its skin was ice and calloused and bloody from tearing the man’s jaw out. It didn’t necessarily bother you as you were no stranger to blood now. But why was this zombie saving you? It’s not like you could ask, you didn’t know if it still understood speech. It never lets go of your hand until it finally leads you to an abandoned building hidden in plain sight. Leading you to the top floor, you saw a mattress on the ground with a pillow and blanket, a tv, empty plates, a mini-fridge, and even a microwave. It really was intelligent.

It took your arm to have you sit on the mattress as you got a better look at its face. It was...handsome. Even with grayish skin and a few holes. He was stunning. He chuckled after noticing your shell-shocked gaze at his appearance. You’ve never heard a zombie fucking chuckle.

He walked away to the mini-fridge and came back with a bottle of water for you. Now you really had some questions, but you didn’t want to seem rude about asking if he understood what you were saying.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” he smiled as he opened the water for you since you took too long. Pushing the bottle closer to you making you accept the water and taking a sip. “You probably haven’t had any water in while. Drink up.”

So you did. You chugged the whole bottle in under a minute as he watched you do so fondly. “What are you?” Okay, so maybe that was a little straightforward and harsh but you couldn’t help but wonder.

“A zombie, obviously. You probably mean why haven’t I eaten you. I can’t really answer that because I don’t know myself. It’s always been this way, ever since I got bitten I mean,” he explained as he stood up and made his way over to the tv to turn it on. “And if you’re wondering why I saved you, it’s because I know those guys can be dicks. They’ve been trying to kill me for months. Ever since they started that little murder group.”

“How did you know I needed help? Were you just passing through that alley?” you questioned while watching him sit back down next to you.

“I’ve been following you this whole time. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. I saw you get off the boat and followed you since then,” he explained like it was no big deal. “But it was a good thing I was there when I was. Otherwise, you’d probably be dead, or turned into a zombie.”

He was right. If it weren’t for him, you would either be eaten or left dead on the ground. Was that really an excuse for stalking you this whole time though?

“There’s no need to overthink it, just get some rest.”

Why was he so damn convincing? He was really nice though. “What’s your name?” you couldn’t stop the question from leaving your mouth in time.

“Namjoon. What’s yours?”

“Y/n.”

“What a wonderful name,” his smile caused his dimples to show making you look at the television.

The soft lull of the show made you tired and you could feel your eyelids getting heavier. Namjoon took note of it but said nothing as he wanted you to completely fall asleep. Seeing your head bob a few times he helped lay you down and covered you with the blanket. He set your bag on the floor along with all of your weapons from off your body.

“Sweet dreams, my little zombie killer,” Namjoon whispered as his attention turned back to the show on the screen.

You had woken up to the sound of a thud from outside of the door. You recognized the growling and screeching of a goddamn zombie. Patting your body down, you couldn’t feel any weapons. You looked around to find them next to you on the floor. You quickly picked up your pistol and stood by the door. Waiting for it to come through, once the door opened you shot it. The body fell to the floor only for you to realize it was Namjoon. The actual zombie laid torn apart on the floor behind him. There was no guarantee Namjoon would survive that but usually, you have to shoot them twice.

He didn't move for a while so you crouched down and poked his shoulder. You heard him groan before he propped himself up with his arms. His tainted, dark blood was pooling on the ground under him. He sat back on his heels and took a deep breath.

"Are-are you okay, Namjoon?" you stuttered as you placed your hand on his shoulder.

The next moment you were on your back with him laying on you. You froze, not knowing what he would do. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, "My name sounds nice when you say it."

You let a shaky breath you were holding before resting your free hand on his back. Feeling the blood seeping through your clothes, you tapped him to have him lift his head. Sure enough, your whole stomach was now covered in his almost black blood.

Namjoon lifted your shirt over your head and stood up to toss it into the corner. You quickly cross your arms over your chest to hide your embarrassing worn-out bra but Namjoon tried his best to pretend like he didn’t see anything. Helping you to stand, he brought you over to a large bucket of water and took a rag from it. He was on his knees as he wiped away all of his blood from your skin. He looked up to your cheeks that were a dark red hue and grinned.

“I didn’t expect you to shoot me in the head,” he was only teasing but he wanted to see your reaction.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and you allowed him to clean your stomach off longer than necessary.

“What was that?” Namjoon was having fun giving you a hard time while he finished cleaning up the blood before he gently wiped his face so he wouldn’t tear his dead skin, then he went to get you a clean shirt from the bag he had in the corner.

“You heard what I said,” you grumbled as you snatched the shirt away from him.

You weren’t really good at interacting with people. Through the whole zombie apocalypse thing, you had kind of thrown all of your social skills out the window. You didn’t mean to come off as rude to the one person helping you, but you couldn’t help but get flustered. It’s not like you were going to stay here for long anyway. You needed to get back on the road by tomorrow.

You then began to wonder how long he's been here. But you were also too afraid to ask. That would be being nosy right? You have no idea what he's been through and it might set him off, so you kept your thoughts to yourself.

You didn't have time to think about the handsome zombie in front of you. You needed to think about where to go next. Speaking of which, Namjoon had been watching your expressions, wondering what you were thinking about.

His partly deteriorated brain began to wander with questions about you. How long have you been alone? Where were you from? He knew you spoke English but that was no indicator of where you were from. Just look at him, he knew a few languages himself so he couldn’t exactly pinpoint where you would be from. Where were you going next? What were you looking for? Who were you looking for? Could it be a lover of yours?

He stopped. Why would he care if you had a significant other? He didn't. Right? Cause it doesn’t matter.

"So, I suppose I should get going," you walked over to your pile of weapons before strapping them and tucking them in their designated places. Since you had a little time to think now, it was decided that you should leave as soon as possible. Just thinking of spending another night in the same four walls terrified you.

“What if the group of masked killers is still around? You’ll need someone to show you the back routes,” Namjoon spoke quickly. He couldn’t understand why he needed to spend more time with you, but he just knew he feared you leaving him. Namjoon did his part in making sure you got somewhere safe off of the boat yesterday. He told himself he would have nothing else to do with you after that, humans never last long anymore.

“I mean...if you want to,” you weren’t going to force someone to venture with you out in the world during the apocalypse. Then again, he was a zombie and couldn’t be killed easily. He could prove to be useful on your trip for whatever distance he’s willing to go. It doesn’t seem like there’s much happening in this abandoned room of his.

All Namjoon did was nod and walk across the room to pack a bag. He decided that there was no way in hell he was going to let you wander around on your own. He doesn’t care how well you can take care of yourself. You needed protecting and that was exactly what he was going to do. He was able to take a shotgun to the head, he will risk his undead life for you.

Namjoon realized where his thoughts were going. Maybe this whole being undead thing was truly affecting his decision-making. He just met you yesterday and he’s willing to die for you? However, all those thoughts disappeared once he turned around and his eyes were set on you once again. As they always should be.

He will keep you safe.

Walking out of the building that Namjoon had been living in for over a year was easier than he thought would be. He heard the peaceful silence of the streets while walking beside you and realized he never took the time to breathe. Figuratively of course. Namjoon wasn’t used to the quiet as he would normally be chased or even in his room he would always have the television on as background noise. Something he felt was needed so he wouldn’t lose his sanity. He began to prefer the quiet more than a constant noise.

You did prefer the quiet, most of the time. There were times where you absolutely hated it. Hated it enough to want to take your knives and dig them into your eardrums so you would go deaf. That type of quiet was the type to have your ears ringing and your breathing sound like you were panting. Even making your heartbeat pound in your ears to attempt to drown out the unbearable silence.

The quiet you loved was broken when a zombie tripped over something metal. Without hesitating, you pulled out your gun and shot it in the head. Your aim has become exceptional since this all started. You slowly approached it and shot it in the head again. You’ve learned to make sure they’re done for by shooting them twice before they could recover.

Namjoon stood there, fascinated by how quickly you reacted. He barely had enough time to notice the zombie before you shot it. You were practically a zombie killing machine. But how many times have you had to fight off these flesh-eating corpses by yourself? God, all he wanted to do was to take all the bad from your life and leave only the good. He had been lonely and at first, scared. He could only imagine how you felt at the beginning of all of this and learning to survive through it. He truly wanted to help you. And he will.

✄ ✄ ✄

It took about an hour and a half to weave through the alleys and side streets to avoid the group that was hunting for any walking being that was and wasn’t minding their own business. Finally, the two of you were out of the city and you found an SUV in acceptable condition. You hot-wired it and waited until Namjoon climbed in to start driving down the deserted country road.

The absence of zombies had made it easy for you and Namjoon to get away. Somehow, one of the stations on the radio was working so that's what you opted to listen to for now. It was a song that sounded familiar but you couldn't remember where you had heard it. Namjoon had suddenly asked a question that caught you a little off guard.

"Do you like these guys?" his voice was even for the most part but it seemed he wanted a certain answer.

"I'm not sure who this is exactly. The song sounds familiar though," hopefully you gave the right response. If there was a way to trigger something in him to make him turn completely into a cannibalistic undead monster, you didn't want to find it.

“They’re - sorry, they were called BTS. Making their way to the top of the world,” you could hear the sadness in Namjoon’s voice that was no doubt about to crack from the strong emotion he was feeling.

“You were a part of that group, weren’t you?” you asked quietly as you kept your eyes on the road, occasionally glancing behind you in the review mirror.

Namjoon let out a small, saddened chuckle as he nodded, “Yeah, I was.”

You remembered watching them answer questions before one of the award ceremonies that your mother always insisted on watching. They seemed so close and genuinely nice even as they were asked dumb, demeaning inquiries.

“I’m sorry,” was the only thing you could say.

“It’s okay, I know that the three who were able to escape are out there somewhere,” he sniffled, how that worked, you didn’t really know but ignored it as his words sunk in.

“May...I ask what happened?” hopefully you wouldn’t regret your words.

He let out a humorless laugh once again, “Long story short, we walked right into the lion’s den without knowing it. It was when the outbreak first began. Couple dozen of ‘em, easily, surrounded us, and while the three were able to escape...the other four of us weren’t so lucky.” He took a deep breath that wasn’t able to allow him the same stabilizing feeling as it once did, before continuing, “I was the only one who was still able to function as a normal human. Even though my heart was no longer beating and my lungs were longer deflating and inflating. The rest were just like the other mindless cannibals looking to eat people.”

You could see that he had tears in his fog-like eyes. Suddenly, you had a thought, “What if we went looking for the other three of your friends?”

The idea was bizarre even to you, but you won’t take it back. If there were more people out there, why wouldn’t you try to find them? You had no problem with joining other people, as long as they had no means of harming you or your newfound friend. Even if y

“You would do that? For us?”

“...Yes. Just tell me what kind of places they would go, and I’ll help you get there. To be with your friends once again,” you couldn’t save your family and friends but maybe you can help save his.

[thatgirlwritingficsatnight]

Gift exchange

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve forgotten about your Christmas company party. Even worse you forgot to get a gift for the “not so secret Santa” - your company’s tradition. Wanna top it? Make it even worse? No problem. The person you were supposed to get a gift for? Your crush. Defsoul - the most talented, kindest and hottest person alive. What are you going to do now?

pairing: Lim Jaebeom (Defsoul) x reader

genre: smut, fluff, Jaebeom is a producer, Y/N is a manager

warnings: smut: daddy kink, light choking, ass play; foul language (please don’t read it if you’re not old enough)

words: 4989

A/N: TFW you try to write a GOT7 reaction, and you end up with one-shot. I know I’m kinda late with whole christmas theme but i wrote it last night and figured out I could post it anyway.

***

You barely got to shut your eyes before your alarm tore you up from your dreams. It was nine in the morning, and you went to sleep at six AM because of your work. You groaned as you shuffled in bed cursing your job, three hours of sleep was not enough for anyone. Being manager of K-pop girl group was hard enough but being the manager in December when there was award show after award show and festivals - that was a nightmare. To other people December was equal to Christmas, gifts, parties, New Year's Eve but to you, it was synonymous with constant state of tiredness, your biggest wish right now was to spent Christmas break alone, just you and your bed. You sighed as you dragged yourself to shower. Girls had only slept for 5 hours, and you felt bad for them — not only were they invited to each award show that existed they also just have had a comeback. You could see how exhausted they were and yet your superiors still pushed for them to go to some stupid TV show on Christmas Eve. You got yourself ready and went to pick them up and get them to set.

The recording went smoothly, and you were already daydreaming about coming home early and passing out on your bed. It was six PM already, but you still had to drive girls home and step into the office for a bit. You sighed you'd be home eight PM at best - well it was still better than coming home at two or three AM. You were about to go and thank everyone for their hard work when your phone vibrated. It was your best friend and coworker.

"Hey Inha. What's up?"

"I wanted to check if you remember about the company party tonight."

You hit your forehead and groaned.

"OMG! You forgot! Have you bought a gift at least?"

"No..." you whined. You wanted to die. You had so much work lately that you've absolutely forgotten about that party — it was for staff only and each year you'd drew lots to pick the person you were supposed to give a gift to. It wasn't even secret Santa your boss simply came to conclusion that gift exchange would help out with forming friendships...

"Girl... Do you at least remember who you drew?"

Of course you remembered. How could you not. This was your lucky year, you got Defsoul the hottest, kindest and most talented person working for your label. You had a small crush on him since that day he gave up his coffee for you. You were falling asleep standing while girls were recording their vocals, and he chuckled at you before telling you to sit by him and drink some coffee. It probably meant nothing to him but that was one of the most stressful weeks in your life, and you weren't sleeping at all during that time — ITZY were about to make a debut, and you couldn't stop worrying over it. You remember how touched you were by this simple gesture, after all no one ever gave you coffee, usually you were the one getting it for other people. His looks certainly didn't help with your hopeless crush. He was H O T and not even simply hot, more like "I-look-like-an-idol" hot. He had a black mullet, piercing under his eye, he also had his nose and ears pierced to make matters worse for you he also had most hypnotizing almost feline-like eyes. Honestly you wondered why didn't he become an idol with a face and talent like that. After that one time, he would buy you a coffee whenever he had seen you and you two became somewhat close - you'd swing over his studio when girls had to train and talk about everything and nothing. He told you about his cats, his favorite restaurants, his passion for taking pictures and well you mostly told him about your job since you basically didn't have any private life - it really felt pathetic. He even took your photo once - telling you that the picture would help him later when he would be looking for inspiration (it is a mystery till this day how you haven't fainted that evening). One day you were waiting for girls to finish up their dance practice and fell asleep on one of the benches — it was difficult day for you since you haven't slept for twenty hours already (you had to fight off some crazy sasaengs and didn’t sleep whole night keeping an eye on their dorm — some would say you were overdoing it, but to you members of ITZY were like your little sisters). You woke up in his studio on his couch. He carried you there while you were asleep and tucked you in, covering you with his jacket. You were extremely embarrassed, apologetic and thankful at the same time. He chuckled at you before saying that it was okay and forced you to promise that you'd oversleep to work the very next day. Inha claimed he had a crush on you since he never treated her with the same kindness or anyone really. But you knew better, he was a good colleague. A good, extraordinarily attractive colleague you wanted to kiss and lick and...

"Hello? Earth to Y/N??" your friend snapped you from your thoughts.

"I have to go Inha! Thank you for reminding me! Love you!" You checked the time, there was no way you'd manage to drive girls back, buy a gift, get ready for a party and do all that without being late. You sighed you will have to improvise. You drove off girls and came back rushing straight to your apartment. The party started at 10 PM and you had to shower, somehow fix your sleep-deprived face and figure out how you're going to apologize to Def... You were home a few minutes before 8 rushing into your bedroom - at least you knew what you were going to wear. That would be the most expensive, or more like the only expensive piece of clothing you had — a birthday gift from girls. It was an oversized tuxedo jacket from Alexander Wang and you haven't worn it yet. You tried it on, it had quite deep cleavage, and exposed a lot of your legs, but you figured it would be ok for tonight. You smoothed out black velvety material before stepping out of it. You still had to shower and do your makeup. An hour later you were looking at yourself in the mirror — the mask Inha got you really helped out with bags under your eyes. You did good with makeup as well: it was soft brownish smoky eye, orange toned lipstick and some shimmers here and there — you actually looked healthy and well rested (a true Christmas miracle really). You looked even better after getting in your outfit — Ryunjin was right, the tuxedo like dress fitted your vibe. You even wore some black heels which didn't often happen since you always chose comfort over looks when at work.  

Fortunately you got to the party on time even though you couldn't catch a taxi for twenty minutes or so. People inside were already mingling and drinking, and you decided to grab something to drink before looking for Def. You located a small table with champagne in the corner of the room. You downed two glasses as quick as you got there, and were already grabbing a third one when a voice spoke up startling you so much you jumped a little.

"Rough day?" Defsoul was standing next to you, whiskey in his hand, smirking at you. You immediately blushed and gawked at him. He was so handsome it was simply unfair. This man clearly woke up today and chose violence. He was wearing a silky black shirt — and it was quite unbuttoned, so you had a chance of seeing his broad chest (you were currently having a heart attack), and slacks he also styled his hair so that his forehead was exposed with one defiant streak of hair falling onto his brow bone. You wanted to groan. You fucked up — this could've been your chance to get him to like you more...

"Y/N? Are you alright?" he was genuinely concerned, and here you were, basically salivating and staring at him like a starved, nasty man. That was so embarrassing. You cleared your throat and looked away.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just really tired today..." He smiled at you warmly, and you wanted to punch yourself for not getting him something, anything.

"That's great!" You gave him a confused look, and he bit his lip nervously while scratching the back of his head. He was so cute you could kiss him. Well to be fair you felt like you could kiss him any time. Why...why did you have to forget that bloody gift...

"I mean it's not great that you're tired... It's just… ah, shit I suck at this. Here." He handed you a plastic card, and you read it absolutely puzzled. Lifetime pass for coffee with Jaebeom — it also had a cute chibi character that looked just like Def, except it had some cat ears.

"Now you can get coffee whenever you want. I mean I know you can have it whenever you want anyway, I just thought that maybe you'd like someone to get it with... I mean get it for you… It's ok if you don't like it really, oh by the way I'm Jaebeom, I don't know if I already told you my real name or not…" he was rambling, and you were screaming inside your head. That was so cute. So kind. You wanted to hug him and kiss him so badly. "Ah, shit. I really do suck at this." he said more to himself than to you. You finally looked at him and grinned.

"I love it." you said and his eyes turned into big orbs before light pink colored his cheeks.

"You do?"

"I do. It's a perfect gift." you smiled, your heart swelled with happiness. You could technically go on a date with him whenever you felt like with this handy piece of plastic. That is if he wouldn't start to hate you in the next few minutes for forgetting his present.

"I'm glad." he grinned and it took your breath away. How come he was so perfect? You got even more nervous looking at the gift from him.

"Ah... I was your not so secret Santa as well…" you started.

"Really? So what did you get me?" he was genuinely interested, and you wanted to go back in time and kill yourself for forgetting about this party. You looked up. His eyes were gleaming with curiosity — you were fucked.

"It's me! I'm your gift!" you joked and looked down to cover your nervousness. You were about to say that it was just a stupid joke and apologize before he spoke up.

"I love it." his voice was deeper than normally, and you looked up shocked by it. He was checking you out, his hungry eyes traveling up and down. You've never seen him like that. You could feel warmth spreading on your cheeks under his intense stare, a tight knot forming somewhere near your core in excitement.

"Y-you do?" your voice faltered, and he chuckled while moving closer to you. He smelled musky with a hint of citrus. Your legs were about to collapse under you.

"I do." he hummed he was so close you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His hand brushed against yours as he bent down to reach your ear. You were sure your skin was burning where he touched you. "So, tell me Y/N, when can I unwrap you?" his tone was dark and dangerous and when he straightened up you've seen this gleam in his eyes as he smirked. Your legs felt like made from putty and you'd collapse if his hand weren't already wrapped around your waist. You couldn't believe it was happening. Your heart was beating so hard it was about to spring off your chest — you were wondering if he could hear it. You certainly could even though blood ringed in your ears. You felt your throat going dry and your panties getting moist.

"Def…" you started weakly. Shocked by your own voice — it sounded so needy.

"Call me Jaebeom.." he purred. "Would you like to go to my place? I don't think I can wait any longer to enjoy my gift…" You quavered from excitement, his voice was laced with a promise of sleepless night.

"Yes, let's go." you said and he smiled at you. You were sure you lost any oxygen you still had in your lungs at that moment. His hand left your waist, and you wanted to catch it and wrap yourself with it again. Instead, he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers with his, smiling at you sweetly before he led you outside. You couldn't focus on anything else, but his fingers wrapped around yours. His hand was warm, and he held you firmly, his skin soft and delicate. You managed to quickly catch a taxi and through whole drive Jaebeom's hand lazily travelled up and down your thigh. His gentle fingers sending sparks to your core every time he brushed the inside of your leg. You glanced at him, eyes filled with desire — he shivered, and it made you feel a different kind of excitement — you didn't know that you had this kind of effect on him. You got out of the taxi and his hand was instantly on yours, he was almost dragging you skipping every other step as he rushed upstairs to his apartment. He opened the door and let you in. Immediately three cats came in and brushed against your legs. You smiled softly.

"They like you.." Jaebeom murmured against your neck while taking off your coat for you, you gasped at the feeling, and he released low chuckle before he started planting soft kisses against your neck — each time his lips touched your skin your muscles clenched with anticipation. You couldn't wait any longer. You turned around and looked at him, his eyes were glued to your lips and excitement bubbled somewhere below your stomach.

"I waited so long for this..." he started but never got to finish as your lips were on his in a second. Even his lips felt like cotton, and you sighed against him when he kissed you back. He was clearly enjoying slow kisses. You grew impatient once again and licked his lower lip, he gave you access you asked for, and your tongue brushed against his hungrily. You could already feel how wet you were, arousal making your panties stick to you painfully. Jaebeom's hand travelled around your back dropping dangerously low now and then but never grabbing you — you really wanted him to hold you and take you roughly. Once again you grew impatient this night. You took his lower lip in between your teeth, you bit it hard and moaned. That seemed to make him lose his cool, he let out a growl that travelled straight to your core.

"Bad girl..." he said before he turned you around and pushed you against the wall so that your back was facing him. His tongue already on your earlobe, you sighed and shivered when he licked it and let out breaths against wet, sensitive skin. "I wanted to take it slowly, but you're so eager, so impatient…" he was purring into your ear, and you were aching down there more and more with each syllable.

"Jaebeom..." you moaned as you pressed your ass against him. He sucked some breath in when you pushed down against his hard length, his body working on its own accord, one hand already on your hips pressing you harder when the other one cupped your breast. This is not how he envisioned tonight, he thought that he'd at best confess his feelings not have you here crumbling in his hands while moaning his name. Your hips bucked against his by itself as soon as you felt how hard he was. His hand grabbed your clothed breast, and you regretted wearing anything. You wanted to feel him against you naked skin not through layers of clothing.

"Jaebeom-ah..." you moaned his name again, and he rewarded you with sucking on your neck — it was painful yet pleasant, and you almost forgot what you wanted to say before he licked the fresh mark and kissed it. "Didn't you say you wanted to unwrap me?" You said in weak voice still affected by his mouth on your neck. He laughed against your skin, and you thought that's how paradise would sound like.

"You really are impatient... do you want me to fuck you so bad?" he asked rubbing into you, his dick almost in pain from the friction.

"Yes...please..." you panted out, and he let out some animalistic sound upon hearing how needy you were. He made you face him and unbuttoned your tuxedo-like-dress before he tossed it somewhere behind him. You shivered under his stare. He pulled you into him and his hands immediately travelled to your ass, grabbing it and lifting you up without effort. He began kissing your jaw, neck, collarbones, and you tilted your head, so he could have better access. He carried you to his bedroom and laid you down carefully on the mattress before he took a step back. His sheets smelled just like him, and you sighed in pleasure, sinking deeply into his fragrance. He bit his lip seeing you in his bed, wearing nothing but lacy underwear. However, you didn't want just lay and wait, you got up and reached out to his own shirt undoing the buttons hastily, but he didn't let you, he was in control. He held your hands and pushed you back on bed. You bounced and your hair created a sort of crown, spreading around your face — it emphasized your features even more, and Jaebeom felt as if he was making love to some kind of goddess. Your lips, eyes, hair, body everything was perfect. He wanted to taste you already.

"You need to ask me nicely." He smirked at you and you pouted a bit before a mischievous gleam appeared in your eyes. You let one of the straps fall from your shoulder and gave him an innocent look before taking off the other one as well. Just one move and Jaebeom would see your torso naked. He bit his lip unintentionally, when you pushed your breast closer while also moaning.

"Pleeeaaase... undress already and fuck me... daddy." He groaned - you'd be the end of him. He quickly tore any clothes that were on him leaving only his boxers on, and you stared him down hungrily. Saying he was beautiful was and understatement. He was perfect. His skin was light and smooth, it gleamed in the moonlight that illuminated the room through a small window located right above the headboard. It was still dim, but you could clearly see the outline of muscles on his stomach, and a tempting v line, waiting for you to be licked on his abdomen.

"Take off your bra." he ordered and you obediently followed. His eyes devoured your glistening breasts, two darker beads already hard and inviting him in. He licked his thumb and brushed it against your nipple watching intently for your reaction. You didn't disappoint him as you arched your back hungry for his touch. He took another one into his mouth, his tongue making circles around it for what felt like forever. The sound of his wet licks and your quickened breath feeling the silence of the room. You squeezed your legs looking for any kind of release, it didn't help much. Your core was aching and since you could only wait for him to bring you pleasure you closed your eyes and focused only on the sole path of his tongue. It was almost like a torture and Jaebeom seemed to enjoy it greatly, lazy licks, circles around your nipples, blowing cold air on them to hear your whines. And so when he finally sucked on your swollen nipple you moaned his name so loudly his neighbors could hear you. His dick twitched in his boxers. He couldn't wait for much long either, you were the most beautiful person he ever saw, and you were squirming under him, waiting for him to fuck you. He was honestly shocked he didn't take you against that wall in his hall when you pushed your ass against him. He smirked at you, he haven’t even fucked you yet and you were already having this kind of expression. His lips travelled from your breast lower and lower before his face hovered above your panties, hot breath on your wet, clothed pussy sending you almost over the edge. You looked down at him, his eyes were full of lust. He was so beautiful you felt like it was just a dream, not reality. When he pressed his nose against your wet folds you moaned again. He inhaled it a few times as if it was the most ravishing smell in the world.

"You smell so good I might go crazy." He actually was going crazy as his cock let out a bit of pre-cum only upon him smelling your pussy.

"Daddy... please..." you pleaded looking him in the eyes, he couldn't take it any longer. In one swift move he tore the panties off you, they were soaked, and he sniffed them one last time before throwing them out.  He took off his own underwear, and knelt between your legs his cock in his hand already.

"You're so wet for me. Such a good girl, I'm going to fuck you so good." he purred out, and you could go off his words only. He put on condom quickly and teased your entrance before sliding into you slowly. He was watching your face intently as he didn't want to cause you pain.

"Just don't move for a second, you're so big I need to get used to the stretch." It was painful a and pleasant at the same time - the way he filled you up. He didn't buck his hips as you asked, instead he kissed your lips, your jaw, neck, and you kissed him back with passion. Soon he started rocking into you and you moaned into his mouth.

"Harder." you managed to say between the panting and kissing. He straightened up and increased the tempo, sweat building on his forehead.

"Harder..." you said and his hand went to your throat while he almost crushed into you. He choked you lightly, and you felt the orgasm building already.

"Daddy... harder..."

"You dirty girl. On all fours." You obediently followed his order and soon he was fucking you doggy style, his hand spanking you lightly. "You like that? You like when daddy takes you hard?" His voice was so low you shivered under him.

"Yes, daddy." you moaned out when his huge dick filled you with each thrust.

"You're so dirty and good to your daddy. I will reward you and play with your other hole." Before you could say anything he spat on your ass and his finger danced around the other entrance. Just that was enough for you to see white. Your toes curled and your head went back, you screamed his name like it was the only thing keeping you alive, and you could feel how he twitched inside you when you clenched around him in orgasm spasm.

"Y/N, ah... I'm cumming, I'm…" he said through gritted teeth while pounding into you. You both reached your highs and fell onto the bed. He discarded the condom and started kissing your back lazily.

"Do you want to shower together?" he asked.

"Yes, but I don't think I have enough energy to go for another round…" you said while turning his way. He was looking at you lovingly, his expression completely fucked out. He was beautiful, the most handsome you've ever seen him actually. You sighed when his fingers brushed off hair from your face in sweet gesture.

"That's ok, I'll just shower you and we can go to sleep." You nodded, and he took your hand and guided you to his bathroom. He switched on the shower and pulled you under the water when it was warm already. He was so delicate with you, soaping your body, shampooing your head. You smiled at him warmly, and he chuckled.

"You're really cute." he said with a smile after making and weird shapes out of your shampooed hair.

"Stop it, I'll blush." you said while getting under the water, he was quickly spooning you, kissing your back almost with devotion.

"Good, you're even cuter when you blush."

You both towelled yourself dry and Jaebeom even brushed your hair for you before pulling you back to bed. You cuddled your face into his chest and he closed his arms around you. You didn't know if it was one-night stand only, but you'd worry about your possibly broken heart in the morning since his scent was already inviting you to the dreamworld.

You woke up to some rumbling. You opened your eyes and shot up, fear washing over you — that wasn't your bedroom. Memories of last night came next, and you fell back to the sheets squealing quietly into his pillow. That's when the realization hit you. What if it was just one-night stand, and you were rolling around his bed happily in love like an idiot? You sighed but before you could do anything, the man in question came to the bedroom smiling at you warmly.

"You finally woke up sleepyhead." He sat next to you and bend down to kiss your cheek. You looked down. "What's wrong? Have I done something?" He looked concerned.

"I.. no." You said sitting up, and he raised his brow on you. Ugh, he was looking great wearing a plain gray hoodie. You sighed.

"Was that one just for one night? If it was a one-night stand tell me now before I do something stupid."

"One-night stand?" He looked at you offended. "One-night stand?! Do you even know for how long I've been crushing on you? It was few years of my desperate attempts to ask you out, buying you coffee, looking for you constantly. Hell, I even made Yugyeom exchange the stupid lottery draw with me, so that I could give you that card. I actually thought that would helped me out with asking you out. One-night stand?! Jesus, Y/N, he made me basically his slave for a day, and you're asking me if it's one-night stand?" He was angry, and you looked at him shocked, you have never seen him like that. "Do you want this to be one-night stand?!" he raised his voice again.

"No!" you answered him immediately.

"No?! Great, then you can... wait you said no?" He cleared his throat, and you could actually see him smiling like an idiot before he cleared it again. "Well… good because I made us lunch already, and it would go to waste otherwise." He tried to act cool. You giggled at him and pushed him down before sitting on top of him.

"You're cute." You said and he blushed looking away.

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. You are the cutest actually." He groaned in response getting even more red, and you giggled once again. It was the first time you got him to blush so much, usually it was just light pink appearing on the apples of his cheeks. You kissed his face leaving pecks all over it, he chuckled before speaking again.

"I don't want this to be one-night stand. I like you I was actually planning on asking you out yesterday."

"You were?"

"I was. So would like to go out with me?" he wiggled his brows at you and you grinned before nodding.

"Mmm. I'd love to." you answered and he pulled you for a lazy kiss.

"Come, I prepared some food for you. It's hardly festive, but it's something"

"I'm sure it's great. I just need to put something on myself first."

"You can have my hoodie and sweats." he said while looking through his cabinet. "Here." He handed you clothes and blushed once again mumbling that he will wait for you in the kitchen. He got embarrassed — that was just too cute.

You slipped in his clothes, his smell wrapping around you. You got out of the bedroom only to be greeted by three cats purring and brushing against your legs. You smiled and petted them, scratching them on their chins. Jaebeom was just standing and staring at you, still not believing his luck. You were wearing his blouse, it was hanging on you like a dress basically and his heart ached at this picture. You looked up and grinned.

"They like me!"

"I'm pretty sure they're going to like you more than they like me." He chuckled. "Now come, let's eat."

You nodded and entered his kitchen, there was kimchi jjigae and rice prepared for both of you. You smiled and sat down already salivating because of the delicious smell.

"Merry Christmas Y/N." He said looking up from his dish.

"Merry Christmas Jaebeom." You smiled at him lovingly. "So what did Yugyeom made you do?"

"Don't even ask." He said and you giggled. Let's just say you didn't get to spend the Christmas break alone in the bed like you wished.

[andilovetowrite]

Chosen Couple (Part 3)

Peter Parker x Reader (The reader is an Avenger)

Summary- Peter and you have a movie night to celebrate the school year ending, but the night takes an unexpected turn. Suddenly, you wish you had never even gone to Peter’s house in the first place.

Warnings- Pretty bad angst, but then again, it’s my first time writing it, so I am open to comments and suggestions on how to improve it.

Posted: April 26, 2021

Word Count- 2.3k

Part 1 and Part 2

Feeling your face heat up, you read the card again and again. Could it be for you? Could Peter like you back? But you got your answer quite quickly.

“What are you doing?!” Peter asked, dashing to you, webbing the box shut.

“Uh, just checking out what was in the box…” you said, crossing your fingers behind your back. “Who’s it for Peter?”

He stared at you, and for a second, you thought he was going to say your name, tell you that he liked you back, tell you that he wanted to be more than friends. But it all went down the drain, and your heart sunk to your stomach when he blurted out. “MJ!”

“MJ?” you asked, feeling pieces of your heart tear into two. Peter looked shocked at what he said, eyebrows furrowed at the slight shake in your voice. But he couldn’t take it back now, could he?

“Y-yeah...uh, I.. um, like MJ, and I told Mr Stark the other day, and he helped me buy these things for yo-her”, he said, stuttering lightly. Maybe if you had paid attention, you would have seen the slight look of desperation on his face, but you were too busy trying to keep a neutral face.

“You told Tony before you told me?” you asked randomly, trying to mask the pain in your voice.

Again, Peter looked crestfallen, looking at the ground before nodding. “You know, because MJ is your best friend, and I thought that if you knew, you might tell her and she might reject me before I even could tell her how I feel” As Peter went on with the sentence, you could see his eyes start to shine a bit, and the small ball in your throat started to grow bigger, almost choking you.

You could feel a slight tingling in your stomach and hands, meaning your powers were beginning to become stronger. It usually happened when you were angry, but now, it made sense that it showed up whenever strong feelings were blowing up your mind. Numbly nodding, you picked up the beautiful copy of the book he had gotten her, now understanding.

You weren’t the only one who liked the book. MJ loved it as well. A couple of weeks ago, you two were chatting about it in the cafeteria, laughing and joking around, and then Peter had shown up, pulling you aside to ask you what was the title of the book that had you enamoured. Well, which had MJ enchanted. Putting it back down, you gulped, forcing a smile on your face. The air was uncomfortable for a couple of minutes, neither of you saying anything. Peter kept staring at the ground while you were blinking rapidly, trying to have a weak attempt at keeping the flow of tears threatening to burst out. Just as you were about to leave from the high tension, open the door and leave, the lights flickered back one by one, the TV’s sounds filling the room again.

“Um, do you want to finish movie night?” Peter’s voice asked from behind you, making you hesitate. You had two choices. You could either go home and cry under the comfort of your bed and then rant to Nat and Wanda about your conundrum, or you could suck it up and endure few more hours of torture, knowing that the last four years of your life spent on loving you best friend would be in vain…. See, you had never taken the easy way out in anything.

So you nodded at him, not saying a word as you slowly walked back to the sofa where you were just about to confess your feelings. Not even touching the blanket, on you and Peter earlier, you pulled your feet up, hugging your knees. Peter sat from across you, reaching out his hand as he might touch you but then pulling it back. You could hardly pay attention to the movie, which was probably the sixth one.

Instead, you focused on the clock, watching the minutes tick by slowly. Second by second. You knew him long enough to see that he wasn’t paying attention either. Any time you spared him a glance, he seemed far away, glassy-eyed and lost in thought. Just as the movie was ending, Peter asked out loud, his voice sharp and brittle.

“Why are you so weird?”

Looking at him properly for the first time since you opened the box, you were speechless. Why were you weird? Maybe because you thought you and Peter were close enough to share little things like crushes. Maybe you were mad that he could trust you with his life on the battlefield but not with his high school crush. Maybe you were furious that he went to Tony for help. Maybe because you thought that he and you were closer than him and Tony. Maybe because you were angry that he couldn’t just suck it up and tell you that he liked MJ. Perhaps because you liked him like he liked MJ, and just maybe because you thought that he wanted you like he liked MJ...

But you couldn’t tell that to him, so you just said back in an emotionless voice. “I’m not weird at all. Why do you think I’m weird?”

Not expecting you to beat around the bush, he answered back, hints of a frown showing up on his face. “Well, you haven’t said anything since I told you I liked MJ. Do you have some type of problem with her?” As soon as he finished, his face contorted into a frown as if he was in pain.

Shocked that he would even ask that, you shot back. “I don’t have any problem with MJ. Hell, she is my best friend. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me about this simple secret?”

He spat, answering me back as he stood up, towering over me. “What’s your problem?! Just cause I don’t tell you about my crush? Oh, and by the way, it’s not a simple little secret. I’ve loved her for years!” His jaw clenched lightly, slowly looking you in the eyes.

Shaking your head, you stood up, now standing the same height as him. “I’m don’t have a problem with anything. I just thought that you- uh…-”, gulping softly, you gaped at him, “Peter, why are you acting like this?”

Breathing heavily now, he glared at you, hate in his eyes, mixed with something you couldn’t make out. “Why are you acting like my mother Y/N?!”

“What the hell Parker? I could’ve helped you out. We’ve always done these things together”, you said, pushing out the words. Your stomach twisted as you said you would help him, curling with envy and jealously towards MJ.

“Oh yeah? Like how you asked for my help with Brad?”

Exasperated, you threw your hands up, light lavender light starting to show from your fingertips. “What is it with you and Brad? He’s a great guy!”

“Uh-huh, and that’s why you thanked me for launching you out of that problematic date of yours, right?”

Starting to feel tired and feeling the weight of your fight beginning to fall on you, you just gazed at him, trying to figure out why his face was red. “Is it because of the movie? Or the exams?”

“Y/N, I don’t know why you can’t just-”, going to sighed, hands running through his curls. The only time you had seen him this broken was when Tony had taken away his suit and when you came with him to find the Vulture. You took a deep breath, moving back from the couch. This was the first time you and Peter had ever fought on something so minute. So irrelevant. Something so damn hard to swallow for you. Peter clicked his tongue and then called out, fire laced in his words.

“Well, maybe it is because of the movie. You keep saying that you like Harry and have spent your whole life loving him as a... character, but now, judging from your glances at the screen, Ron’s the one you want, don’t you?”His eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he spoke.

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” you asked accusingly, folding your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know? Maybe because you just have bad taste in men!” he said, sneering at you. Not once, ever in the six years you had known Peter did you see him sneer at you. But this only fueled the anger deep within your chest.

“Well, in that case, you probably don’t even like Hermione so much. You would like someone like Ginny Weasley! You tried to stop, but you couldn’t as you went on, airing all of your problems out.

“Oh wait, and your right, I do like Ron better. It’s because Ron is tall and cute, part of sports teams and oh yeah, he gets all the girls. He has experience with a girl, and I think that’s what makes him more interesting than Harry!” you said, knowing that the topic had gone off the movie long ago.

Peter almost looked hurt for a couple of seconds as you spoke of ‘Ron’, but then he clenched his jaw, face hardening. “Well, your right then! Ginny is the perfect girl. I mean, her life is smooth and secure, with family and friends surrounding her. Not like Hermione, whose parents don’t even care about her, let alone anyone else.”

As soon as Peter finished, you could feel the anger draining out of you, replaced by a blinding pain in your chest. You could see Peter’s eyes widen in realisation, softening apologetically. Letting out a long breath, you stood up, not wanting to let him see the tears welling in your eyes. “Why would you say that?”, You asked as you let out all the pent up energy, stress and emotions you had been holding in for the evening in one go. Picking up your phone, you began walking to the door, ignoring Peter’s calls behind you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” Peter said, calling out, his voice cracking towards the end. Gritting your teeth, you kept going. You were taught from a young age never to cry in public. You had kind of let that go with Peter, though. He was your best friend. You two used to talk about many things, about school, movies, family, friends. You had comforted Peter every year when his parent’s death anniversary came around. He was a shoulder to cry on when being an Avenger became just too much for you. But you had never cried because of Peter. Never but none because of your fight.

Oh, and coincidentally, that little piece of advice was given by your parents. Your parents who...left you. Almost forgot about you. Feeling a fresh new set of emotions burst through your mouth. Whirling backwards, you stared at Peter. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, almost hunched over under your vision. He glanced up at you, eyes bloodshot. “I’m sorry”, he whispered helplessly.

Dark purple light started emerging from you, making your hair stand up. You could feel your heartbeat get faster as you pushed out every last bit of hatred you could muster. Peter’s face was now reflecting the violet light, lip quivering ever so slightly.

“Why would you use my parents? You know how I-” Feeling a sob jump out of your throat, you collapsed on the floor, the purple ring around you flashing out before the apartment became as dark as before. Just as you fell, you felt Peter run over to you; arm’s circling you. You could feel his hair tickling your neck as he bought you closer.

“I didn’t mean it. Please…”, Peter said, holding you tight as his embrace. Wondering if you should push him back, you couldn’t be bothered. Instead, you hugged him back, letting yourself melt into him. You don’t know how long you stayed in that position, huddled near the door, both you and Peter trying to figure things out.

But at some point, when you were sure that you could stand up without becoming a bumbling mess of tears, you pulled away. Peter looked at you, eyes rimmed with red, cheeks puffy with his curls a mess. Sniffing, you stand up, not saying anything as you turn away, opening the door softly and looking back at him, your gaze diverting to the black box.

“Go give it to her Pete. I’m sure she would love it.”

And with that, you walked out the door, into the dark night, rain pelting on your head, but truthfully, you couldn’t care less at this point.

Damn, and I thought this would be a fun, fluffy piece, but it turned into something a bit more… Well, anyway, let’s see what happens next. Will Peter give MJ the box? Will Y/N ever even talk to Peter and MJ? Check it out in a few days when I put out the next part. Also, if you made it this far, maybe follow me to see some more short series and stories about our favourite spider boy :)

Part 1 and Part 2

Part 4

[zevlors-tail]

Retail Therapy

A/N: If you work retail like I do and get frustrated with your job on a weekly/daily basis, if you’re just fed up of all the crazy at work, this one’s for you! Covid has made it extra garbagey to work retail so here’s a little vent. Also, me writing soft Bakugou content? Yes.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shouto Todoroki

Warnings: Mentions of Covid in Bakugou’s part. Cursing. Customer invading your personal space (also in Bakugou’s part), tiny mention of anxiety in Todoroki’s scenario.

Summary: You’ve had the most infuriating day at work. Lucky for you, he knows just how to fix it.

Izuku Midoriya

Oh my god this gif is so bright i love it

“Hi baby!” Izuku greets you as you haphazardly toss your shoes on the floor, not caring where they land. One ends up under the dining room table and the other ends up somewhere among the chairs, but you could care less.

You’re pissed. More pissed than you’ve ever been, but specifically with work. You constantly feel like you’re babysitting your coworkers, and they never listen to anything you have to say, even when you’re put in charge of your department- if only for the night. Every time you turn your back, they’re pulling some sort of dumb stunt; how are you supposed to get work done like that? You can hardly focus on your own task when you’re trying to clean up after everyone else. Picking up slack is something you’re used to by now (unfortunately), but it shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to do your work and everyone else’s work too. Not to mention, you were tired of being the middle man whenever there was drama. Why did everyone feel the need to tell you everything?

“Ughhhh!” You just groan in response, half a smile on your face while a wild look enters your eyes. Izuku knows that look. He can tell you’re frustrated after a long day of work, that you’re at your wits end with your job. “I swear, Izu, I came this close to rage quitting. I mean I wouldn’t, because I’ve got bills to pay and stuff, but, just- this close.”

“Oh yeah?” He gives you a trademark smile despite your woes and invites you to follow him to the dining table where he sits down with you, taking your hand in his. “Tell me all about it.”

And you do. He listens diligently, nodding and getting into the gossip playfully, asking about certain coworkers and making silly comments to get you to laugh. Things like, “But they would never!” and “Oh my god, no they didn’t!” along with your personal favorite, a very dramatic “No!” He even makes over the top facial expressions to go with his comedic comments, and he has you laughing with him in no time, the stress of the day melting away under his electric green gaze. Your vent turns into more of a fun story than it does a bad experience. Izuku is a good listener and he’ll always be there for you.

“It was just ridiculous! Man, I can only take so much in one day. Usually I don’t let them get to me, but I couldn’t take both of them coming up to me every five minutes and complaining about each other. You know, as much as they like to talk about each other not doing their jobs, maybe they would get more work done if they just stopped talking and got back to work in the first place!” As you tell him your story, he hums a response, nods, and gets up from the table. He pats your head as he passes by you on the way to the kitchen, and you follow him with your gaze, questioning him silently.

“I’m still listening, love. I can hear you from here, promise! Do go on.”

You continue, not paying much mind to what he’s doing since you’re so engrossed in your tale of idiocy and annoyance turned silly. And he is listening to you, still making eye contact as he moves about the kitchen, still putting his two cents every once in a while. But before you know it, a savory smell hits your nose, and you realize he’s not only started dinner but that he’s practically finished with it by the time you’re done talking. He wastes no time in making two plates and bringing them over, setting one in front of you and the other in front of his usual spot.

You’re extremely grateful to him for taking the initiative to make dinner while you de-stressed after the day’s events, and you make sure to tell him that as you both dig in to his cooking. He learned from the best (bless mama Midoriya). You’re reminded that no matter how bad your day has been, you get to come home to your favorite human being on the whole planet and love him, and be loved by him in return.

“Thanks for making dinner, Izuku. You’re truly the love of my life.” You say it in such a manner that makes your partner laugh, bits of food falling from his mouth as he struggles to swallow properly. “That’s attractive,” you tease, but you’re laughing too. It’s a happy moment for the both of you.

“Good to know you only love me for my cooking!” He jokes. He eyes your plate before not so subtly reaching over and stealing a piece of food. You gasp in mock surprise, but save your revenge for later. There are plenty of ways to get even with him. But for now...

Izuku: 1

Y/N: 0

Katsuki Bakugou

soft bb

“Shit, fuck! God, I hate today!” you exclaim as you slam the car door shut. Bakugou had been kind enough to pick you up from work, and you were glad that it was him driving and not you behind the wheel. You were shaking in your seat, your hands trembling in anger and teeth grinding in frustration as you glared out of the window silently for a moment.

“Bad day?” Bakugou asked gruffly, foot gently pressing against the gas peddle as you took off on the drive home.

“Yeah, you would not fucking believe people. You’d think everyone would listen to directions and stay home since it’s like, oh, I don’t know- the middle of a fucking pandemic?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. People are stupid. Don’t let them get to you, baby.” 

Maybe those words were odd coming from him considering he used to be so angry all the time himself, but Bakugou had really mellowed out since his days at UA, and he knew how to hold his tongue. Unbeknownst to him, however, this was more than a bad day for you. Bad days you could let go of, but this- this was something else. Not quite the worst time you’d ever had at work, but much more than a bad day. Today had been somewhere in between the two, and you weren’t sure what to call it. You’d been yelled at, berated, understaffed, and blamed for pretty much all the problems going on in your specific area even though you were trying your best. There was only so much you could do yourself, and even though you knew it was better to just let it go, you couldn’t. Especially not after what that wretched customer had done to you.

“I’m trying not to, but it’s really god damned hard not to fucking smack a bitch when they invade your personal space and tap on your shoulder. In a fucking pandemic. Actually, I don’t even think she was wearing a mask now that I think about it. How considerate of her.” The words are like venom spitting from your mouth, your fists clenching as you vent to your partner in confidence.

“They did what?” Normally he’s good about keeping his anger in check. Normally, he could handle you venting to him about anything. But someone else touching his Y/N? No way in hell. And during a period of time where touching people was especially rude and inconsiderate? Fucking no way in hell.

“Yeah! Tapped me right on the damn shoulder and didn’t even say excuse me. Words exist! Just tell me you need something and I’ll get it for you! I hate people who do that shit, it’s so unnecessary and rude! And it violates my personal space and creeps me out. I feel disgusting. If you touch me at work, then I’m not liable for anything that happens to you! You get slapped? Then that’s on you, bitch! Don’t fucking touch me!” You finish up your speech with a wild hand gesture, your head shaking in disbelief while you try not to think about too much.

It takes Bakugou everything he has not to just slam on the breaks right then and there and put the car in reverse to drive back to the store and find that piece of trash. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for the next best thing: comforting you and making sure you’re okay. You did just have your personal space violated after all, so it’s understandable you’re pretty shaken up and angry about the whole thing. He would be too, honestly. 

The rest of the short drive home is mostly silent, save for the small talk you make with each other and the quiet background noise of the radio station that he let you pick. His general rule of thumb is that the driver picks the music, but he knows you’ve had a hard day, so he doesn’t argue when you change it to your preferred station and start drumming your fingers to the beat. He’d rather you wind down this way than keeping it all bottled up. When the two of you finally arrive to your shared home, you let your shoulders fall a bit and sigh as you trudge to the couch, not even bothering to take your shoes off before plopping down and face planting into the soft cushions. You listen as Bakugou wanders off to the bedroom and returns a moment later with a shirt in his hands.

“You said you felt disgusting earlier, so I brought you a new shirt to change into. Figured you probably didn’t want to stay in your work clothes.” His tone is softer, a little more careful since you’re home now and he knows you don’t like to fall apart in public. Home is where your true heart is, with him. If you’re feeling any sort of negative emotion, it’s more likely to come out here. And he wants to offer his help, but... “Do you want some help with it?”

You shift so that you’re sitting up on the couch and raise your arms slightly for him. “That would be nice, since I’m utterly exhausted and worn out. I’d really appreciate it,” you reply honestly.

He hesitates a bit, unsure of something before he asks you a question. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Your response is immediate. “Of course it is; I trust you. I never mind your touch.”

He smiles at that.

He helps you get changed into the ultra comfy shirt he brought you, and after that the two of you heat up some leftovers before cuddling up in bed together, the worst of the day washed away by Bakugou’s soft fingers running along your side as you lay your head on his chest.

“Thanks for always taking care of me. You do an amazing job at it.” You yawn into his shirt and snuggle your face against it, the soft cotton making you feel safe and secure.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Shouto Todoroki

I’m feeling extra soft for Todoroki recently

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day at-” 

Before Shouto can even finish his sentence, you’re flying into a vent about work, passing right by him on your way to the bathroom as you start to pull of your work uniform angrily.

“Oh my god, it was an absolute disaster!” You’re still breathing heavy from all the stress, eyes darting around wildly and face flushed from being mad and under pressure all night.

“What happened, love?” Todoroki coaxes gently. He comes to stand in the door frame of the bathroom and leans against it, his hands in his pockets and hip cocked out to the side. He has a sympathetic look on his face as you explain all your troubles of the day.

“Everything, Shouto. Everything happened. I mean, not everything, but it sure felt like it! Our delivery showed up late, and we didn’t have product all afternoon, so our customers were really angry and I kept getting yelled at! It’s not my fault it showed up late! If I had the product to put out I would! It’s complete and utter bullshit!” You make your way to the bedroom to pick out pajamas, not really caring about the pair you take out of the drawer or anything else for that matter. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: your day at work.

Sometimes you had a hard time winding down from work, especially on days like these, and Shouto knew that. You usually were able to separate work from home fairly well, but occasionally you just needed a little reminder that it didn’t have to follow you home to bed, and he knew how to help with that. He’d seen you like this before, had witnessed your break downs and freak outs over your job and the stress that came with it. Retail was not for everyone. Todoroki always told you that you had the patience of a saint, though everyone had their own limits, and you must have hit yours tonight.

“I don’t appreciate being called names and told that I’m practically useless. Customers can be real fucking snobs all the time. And I was trying so hard too, but even after the delivery showed up, it was busy as hell, and every time I put something up on the shelf they just kept taking it down! I think I sold through at least three boxes of something I normally have to throw away at the end of the week. Seriously! It was a mess, and we didn’t have enough staff because one of us was still suspended, and our normal person who works the backroom doesn’t work weekends, and even our supervisor called off, so it was just me and this other girl. It was awful. I can’t even- ugh! It’s not fair!”

You started to work yourself up, your anxiety skyrocketing as you thought of everything that went wrong earlier. Rationally you knew there wasn’t much you could do about the situation, but that didn’t mean you felt the same way. You should have done more, pushed yourself harder, but you also didn’t want to stay and work overtime on an empty stomach and not a lot of sleep the night before. Shouto must have seen the guilt in your eyes, because the next thing you knew you were being moved to the bed where he wrapped you in the softest blanket he could find, and then he was telling you he’d be right back as he slipped out of the room.

You sat there, a little confused for a while, before you heard a beeping noise from the kitchen and the door to the microwave open and close. Todoroki returned with a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other, and he said nothing as he set the book and cup down on the nightstand before working around you, positioning a few pillows against the headboard of the bed. He fluffed them up a few times and grabbed the giant comforter, pulling it up over your lap and practically swaddling you. Finally he sat down behind you on the bed and pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head against his chest as he petted your hair softly. Slowly, you felt all the tension from earlier on in the day ebb away into drowsiness and exhaustion.

“Alright, blanket burrito,” he said, referring to your form all wrapped up in soft cotton, “I warmed up a cup of your favorite drink and brought us a book. Do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer to play a video game or movie?” He gazed down at you with a brow raised in question, a look of amusement on his face at the sight of your head just barely peeking out from the blankets.

“If you don’t mind, could you read to me? I like your voice...it’s soothing.” You melted into his touch, work already forgotten about and a wave of calm washing over you. 

“Of course, dear.” He gave you a precious smile and kiss on the top of your head.

Todoroki always knew how to fix your bad days, and he always did so without hesitation and without you having to ask. He handed you the warm mug first which you took gratefully, and then picked up the book and began reading to you.

How did you get this lucky?

[emcon-imagines]

Finally Okay, Pt. 3

part 1, part 2

gif

characters: Wanda Maximoff x reader words: 2194 summary: reader and Wanda are close friends, one joining the Avengers and one going rogue after Sokovia. But after one terrible night, Wanda is forced to face the reality of your mission for revenge. a/n: ahhh fingers crossed please don’t let this flop lmao I worked real hard on this part and you can catch up if you haven’t read parts 1 + 2 yet!!! but anyways surprise and merry christmas!!!!! it’s like a little additional gift to you guys and the conclusion to this trilogy. tagging: @moonlit-imagines​ and @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​, who both expressed interest in a part 3!

You sat with Wanda for a long time in containment, saying nothing, but her familiar presence calming you down enough that your stomach started to churn less and less, and the shaky, panicky feel began to dissipate into exhaustion.

“You still with me?” Wanda murmured as you laid into her, head resting against her shoulder. She squeezed your hand again, trying to get a read on where your mind was. “You seem better.”

You lifted your head up as the door opened, simultaneous with the mechanical beeping of it unlocking. Wanda seemed to sense you tense and she didn’t let go of your hand, even as you clenched hers harder.

“Y/N?” one of the SHIELD agents in the doorway asked. “We’re going to have you stop by the lab to get checked out one more time, and then someplace more permanent for you to sleep tonight.”

You looked at Wanda, uncertainty etched across your face, as you mouthed the word “lab?” with the fear unmistakable in your eyes.

“They’re gentle,” Wanda said. “They’re not going to hurt you. Probably just make sure...” she nodded at the bandage on your stomach. “Well, you really tore yourself up there,” she said, almost ruefully.

You considered her words and finally nodded, sliding off the cot and wincing at the muted stab in your side, still hugging the shawl over your shoulders, as if it could offer some sort of protection from the unknown. When you got to the door, the SHIELD agent waved over to Wanda, who had gotten up as well, but was still standing on the other side of the room.

“Coulson asked if you could stay with y/n,” the agent said. “It’s better than...” he trailed off, glancing down at you and then back at Wanda, who was glaring at him.

“Sedating them again?” Wanda asked. She stepped over. “That’s what HYDRA used to do. You scared them, working on them while they were asleep.”

“That wasn’t my call,” the agent said, quietly. “But... I’ll let Coulson know.”

“It won’t happen again,” Wanda said, and you weren’t sure if she was talking to you or the agent.

The journey to the lab was quick, though you couldn’t ignore the stares from other agents, and the way many of them stopped walking completely to let the five of you, the main agent accompanied by two others, pass. You tried to look braver than you felt, standing up straight, putting up the same mask of anger that had helped you survive for so many years with HYDRA, your eyes dark and your eyebrows furrowed, mouth in a hard slash.

It was clear that Wanda wasn’t comfortable around the agents either, perhaps she would have preferred Natasha or Clint be the liaison instead, but if she did feel that way, she didn’t say anything about it. She’s here, isn’t she? Not her hero friends. Wanda came.

There were only two people in the lab when you arrived, but it seemed busy enough for ten times that amount of people. Not like any of the labs you had seen before. It was well-kept, though lived-in, a mug of tea here, a sweatshirt tossed over a chair there. Work covered the lab benches; you could only begin to guess what SHIELD was working on.

“Hi,” the new woman said, and gestured to a medical station set up behind a glass partition. “You can sit right over there, I’m just finishing something up first.” The others agents stopped at the door, not going any further, and you stepped into the lab cautiously, as if breathing could break something.

“Fitz, where did you put my notes when you moved them?” the woman asked. “Was two tables not enough space?”

“I put them over there,” Fitz said, pointing to where you had been directed to sit.

“Oh.”

You said down on the edge of the cot just as the woman, who you realized must have fixed you up earlier, joined you, finding her notes. “Sorry about that,” she said. “We’re all over the place today, Fitz is trying to build a... well... never mind, that’s a whole other thing.” She pulled a tool off a shelf, something that looked like a gun and you flinched. “Mind if I take your temperature again?” she asked. “I want to see if it’s gone down at all.”

You relaxed and nodded, picking at the paper unrolled on the cot underneath you. She held the thermometer up to your head and read it when it beeped.

“Hmm. You’re still a bit warm. How are you feeling?”

“Y/N runs warm,” Wanda interrupted, and you looked over to see her leaning against one of the lab benches, her arms crossed. “Something to do with their powers. It’s why they’re always cold, too.”

“So, you radiate it all out?” Simmons asked. “And so it’s like you leave none for yourself?” She smiled a little as she put the thermometer away and scribbled a note down. “That’s neat.” She glanced back at you. “I mean, it’s just interesting is all.”

“Thanks.”

Simmons raised an eyebrow at Wanda, they talk?, before picking up her notes and writing something else down. “When was the last time you had a doctor’s appointment?” she asked. “I mean, a real one.”

“Um...” you glanced down at your feet. “Never?” You had managed to avoid doctor’s all these years, even the time you had the flu, or the time you nearly cut your own finger off trying to cook. Glancing at the nasty scar on your thumb, you began to think that maybe that was a mistake. From the other side of the room, you heard Wanda’s exasperated sigh.

“Right, okay,” Simmons said. “Well, I’m going to try to make this as painless as possible, as long as... well... you’re going to have to promise to help me out here. Have you eaten yet? I can send Fitz to the cafeteria to get you something to eat while we talk. What do you like?”

“I’m a bit occupied at the moment,” Fitz said from the other side of the lab, earning a hard look from Simmons, under which he finally relented. “Sorry, what do they like?”

Simmons kept her promise, which surprised you, and you kept yours, which maybe surprised you even more. She checked on your wounds and changed your bandages, tried to find out if anything else hurt that she had missed when you arrived, and only gave you one shot-- a flu shot-- of all things. And you finally ate, picking at the layers of the sandwich Fitz brought, eating one ingredient at a time, swatting Wanda’s hand away when she tried to steal one of the apple slices Fitz brought as well.

“You’re not going to share?” she asked, nudging you and giggling.

“No.”

“Brat,” she said, but she was still smiling. “After all this, you won’t even share one?” You saw red magic light up around her fingers and you clutched the bag of cut apples closer to you, knowing what she would try. “What if I--”

“Nope.”

Simmons’ exam ended shortly after that, and the SHIELD agents returned to escort you to your next destination, which the scientists had referred to holding. It was a stark white room, the walls made up of the same material your original containment cell had been made of, but this room was warmly lit, with a real bed, couches, a desk, and even a television screen. There were clean clothes laid out on the bed, grey sweatpants, socks, and a grey SHIELD sweatshirt, heavier than you expected. Warmer. There was a bathroom, too, already stocked with tiny soaps and shampoos, and you finally got to scrub the blood and soot off of yourself, turning the water as hot as possible and watching the grit run down the drain.

“Better?” Wanda asked, when you got out of the shower, examining the sweatshirt you had changed into. “You look better.”

You nodded, flopping onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling, just as the door opened again, and Wanda stood up from the couch to see who was there. “Hey, how are you?” Phil Coulson asked, stepping through the doorway, tablet in hand. You looked at Wanda, who gestured back to Coulson.

“He asked you, not me.”

“Tired,” you said. “Um... but all right.”

“I’ll take that as a good thing,” Phil said sitting down on the couch. He turned to Wanda. “Natasha dropped some things off for you if you want to grab them and clean up as well.”

You realized that Wanda still had blood, your blood, under her fingernails, and that she had been there the entire time you had. Did she not even leave this place once? When Wanda did step out, you sat on the edge of the bed, eying Coulson, still trying to figure him out. Is this someone I can trust?

“This won’t be too long,” he said. “I’m going to let you rest. I just wanted to talk with you a little more. Is that all right?” When you didn’t respond, he went ahead, glancing down at something on the tablet. “So, Simmons mentioned something in her notes here about your temperature readings. I’m assuming that has something to do with your abilities? Can you walk me though that?”

You paused, staring at your hands. “Um. They said I run hot. I heat things up with my hands... usually.... but sometimes without even touching them.”

“Is that how the fire started?” he asked softly, and you nodded.

“I didn’t want that to happen,” you said. “No one was supposed to be there.”

“I know you didn’t,” Coulson said, and you blinked, surprised. “Powers can be unpredictable. Scary, if you’re new to them, or if you were never trained.”

“I was trained to burn things,” you said. You remembered the trials, trial after trial, leaving you colder and weaker each time, unable to stop shivering, curled up against the glass wall of your cell, where a heat from the lab had warmed the glass enough for you to sleep.

“Wanda told me,” Coulson said. “I’m sorry for what you went through there.” He took another read through of his notes. “We’re going to bring someone else in to do a psych eval tomorrow morning. He’s one of the best, even helped our own. I think you’ll benefit from talking to him. And we’ll go from there. How does that sound?”

You nodded once, and Coulson stood back up, adjusting his suit as he looked around the room. “Get some rest for tonight. Simmons might be by a few times to check on you, and if you need anything in the meantime--” he pointed at a button under the screen “--call button is right there.” Just as he prepared to leave, the door unlocked and opened again, Wanda stepping back in, having cleaned up and changed herself, dropping a duffle bag by the door. She and Coulson nodded at each other as he left, the lights in the room dimming in his wake, something more suitable for sleeping.

You leaned back on the bed, sinking into the pillows, though the constant undercurrent of anxiety prevented you from relaxing completely. “Can you stay?” you mumbled, not daring to ask the question any louder, afraid of the answer. “Just until I fall asleep.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up, too,” Wanda said, crossing the room and sitting down on the other side of the bed. “Okay?” You had pulled her shawl over yourself again and she reached over to tuck it tighter around you, you pulling away for a moment.

Oh.

It was love. All of it, all around you, you realized, was love. Something you had been certain you didn’t deserve, especially in places when there was so little to go around, acts of kindness existing only in mercy. 

Wanda paused, waiting for you, as your heart beat a little faster. It was too much, sometimes, overwhelming to think about, these people with so much love to give, relentless until you were ready to accept that perhaps you deserved some peace after all. Not despite your past, but because of it.

Finally, you laid back down on the bed, leaning into her, tucking yourself in close to her warmth, sighing as a burden was lifted off of you. “There you are,” Wanda said, her hand rubbing your back as she pulled you in closer, and this time, you didn’t feel like you had to escape. It was okay. You were okay.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shutting your eyes, already drifting off.

Wanda planted a kiss on your forehead and you smiled in response, the first smile she had seen in a long time from you. It was safe to sleep here. There was enough warmth to go around. Your head rested in the crook between her arm and her chest as she laid back as well, her hoping maybe you finally would sleep peacefully for the first time in a long time.

“I’ll be right here in the morning,” she repeated again, the last thing you heard before you finally rested, finally okay at last.

[oddshelbyout]

The Luck Is On Your Side // Thomas Shelby X Male!Reader

Requested by: @molstkiwi

Summary: You are a thief trying to rob Thomas’ home and he offers you a job.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking

Word Count: 1816

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy

Author’s Note:

This one was a really hard one to write. I really didn’t know how to write it but I think it turned out to be not so bad. Once again, I’m afraid Tommy might be a little out of character but I hope you still enjoy it.

English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work so please let me know if I make any mistakes or anything I can fix in my writing.

You can ask to be added to my taglist. You can be tagged to works on a specific character or just any of my works. Please dm me or send your wish to my ask box if you’d like to be added.

Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related imagines or prompts for me to write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.

———————

You left home at exactly 3:30 am as you always did. You started walking around. Your gloves were itching your hand. These were new ones. You had dropped one pair of your old ones in a flat you broke in. Now your work was infamous.

You were a thief, a professional one. You would break into homes, steal everything valuable and disappear without anyone noticing. You were also new in Birmingham so it was much easier to not get noticed.

You were quite young, you hadn’t been to the war. That was actually when you started stealing. You were around 11, your two older brothers were sent to the war and you were left home with your drunk mother.

You started pickpocketing, it was easy. After a few years, it started becoming not enough for you. The euphoria you got from pickpocketing was great but what you stole was never enough.

It was years later, when you hit 23 that you decided you were going to start robbing homes. You needed to change cities. Your brothers were already back home, they were disappointed in you and you were no longer needed at home. So you left.

Stealing was harder in Birmingham. The locals were more aware, they were tough and knew how to fight. Then there were the Peaky Blinders. They basically owned Birmingham. You heard so many stories about them but could never figure out which ones were true and which ones weren’t.

You were looking around, trying to choose which house to break in. You weren’t good at planning and you never planned your robberies. You probably should’ve but that wasn’t the way you worked.

You finally choose one home. You were going to enter from the back. You slowly walked to the back alley, found a dark spot and put your mask on there. You could never risk getting recognized.

Every house from the back looked the same, you forgot which one you were going to break into. “Fuck!” you whispered to yourself. You were confident so you were sure it wouldn’t matter which house you robbed.

You carefully started climbing to the second floor of the house. You looked into the window and you were relieved. The room looked empty. You opened the window, which for some reason didn’t have a lock. You felt lucky.

So you started looking around. It was completely dark, you were quiet but you couldn’t see anything. It was a matter of time you dropped something and everyone would wake up.

You couldn’t find anything in the first room and the other room had a closed door. You quietly walked down the stairs. The living room was always the best room to rob.

You looked around for another while. You put some little figures, they looked gold plated. You looked around and around and around. Nothing was worth stealing, nothing was worth breaking in.

The house had a weird feeling, there were new furnitures but no one seemed to live inside. You gave up, you were genuinely sad that you couldn’t find anything. You decided to leave, go home and sleep.

You were literally out of shits to give, you were going to leave from the front door. You held the doorknob and you heard someone come. Your first instinct was to be quick and run away but the one who came was faster.

The person grabbed you from your mask and took it away, uncovering your whole face. “Fuck!” you said, he made you turn to him.

You eyes grew big, “Fuck!” you said more quietly this time. There stood a man before you with shining blue eyes. His eyes were so bright that you could even see them in the darkness of the night. He had sharp cheekbones, defined jawline and full lips. He was really attractive. The higher your gaze went, you noticed his hair. The signature Peaky Blinders haircut.

You didn’t panic even though you should’ve. The more you looked into his features you knew exactly who he was. You had seen him before, he was Thomas Shelby.

He had a gun in his hand, you accepted your death. “I assume this is the moment you put a bullet in my head.” you said, Thomas was confused. “Come on, let’s get on with it.” he continued.

Thomas was silent, he was genuinely confused and surprised to hear you say that. “Let’s not waste time.” you said and he pushed you to the wall. He wasn’t happy with the way you spoke.

He hadn’t said anything yet which was extremely annoying. He was really good to look at, he had you against a wall and your eyes looked directly to his. You thought “What a wonderful way to die.” it was a funny thought but exactly represented who you felt.

You weren’t scared of death and Thomas seemed to know that from the way you talked. “I’m not going to kill you.” you heard him say. You were shocked to hear that.

“Why?” you asked, he stepped back. “I can use you.” your mind immediately stopped working, you had absolutely no idea what that meant. “You’re him, the thief, you’re a good one.” he continued with his deep voice.

You nodded slowly, still had your back on the wall, you didn’t move an inch. “So good that I got caught.” you mumbled, it was true you were a good one but this has been your worst job. “But you got caught by me, that’s different.” he didn’t even ask you if you knew who he was. It was Birmingham, you had to know.

“Still got caught.” you said, you sounded disappointed. “Work for me.” he said, you released your back from the wall, stood straight. “I can use a good thief.” he said, “Or would you rather I killed you.” he continued. You chuckled nervously.

“I’m okay with work.” he offered his hand to shake, you took it and shook it as hard as you could. “Now leave, drop by to the Shelby Company tomorrow.” he said, you couldn’t believe what just happened. You listened to him and went home.

After that you worked at a few robberies for him, he gave you commission from what you gathered. You two actually developed an unusual way of conversation in time.

You brought whatever you stole to him directly, usually to his house. Not the one you broke in but his actual one. Apparently when you broke in, he was only there because his other house wasn’t safe at the moment.

A year after you started working for him, you went to his house one night again, to give him a bag of guns you stole as he directed.

You entered with the big bag in your hand, immediately went to his study room on the first floor. You didn’t knock the door, you never did and he didn’t mind either.

He was lost between a pile of letters. You dropped the bag on the floor to get his attention. “Welcome Y/N” he said, “Hi Tom.” you replied. You left the bag there and went to the bar in the cupboard to get yourself a drink.

A year ago, you would’ve never thought this would be your life. You had more wealth than you imagined and you were close with Thomas Shelby. You had no idea how and why you got so comfortable with each other after the way you met. Loyalty was very important to Tommy, you were only loyal to him and no one else.

You took your glass of whiskey and sat on the couch. “Give me a moment.” Tommy said to you, he sealed a letter then grabbed his cigarettes and whiskey to join you on the couch.

He sat next to you, “How did it go?” he asked, meaning the job. “Easy, I was even more invisible than a ghost.” you said confidently. Tommy chuckled, “Just like I knew it would be.” you smiled.

“What about you?” you asked, he looked tired as usual but not as tired as he was the most times. “I got bored, sat in this bloody room the whole day.” you rested your head on the side of the couch.

You reached for his cigarette case to grab one. “Sounds boring.” you said, he grabbed your whiskey and drank from it. “Hey! That’s mine!” you exclaimed, you sat up and reached for his glass.

“Today was so boring that this is the most exciting moment.” Tommy said, that was weird. “That’s unusual.” you said, “Exactly, something wrong is coming, I can feel it.” he confessed.

“Be right here with me, that’s enough.” he said, that was all you wanted too. “I’ll be here for whatever you need.” you said even though you didn’t need to. He knew already, that was why you were drinking there with him in his house, not even 6 feet apart.

Neither of you talked for a few moments. You examined him, the way he wore his watch, his piercing eyes then you stopped. “What would you think if I kissed you?” you asked, a sudden courage took over your mind and body.

“The luck is on your side.” he took a deep breath “I would enjoy it.” Tommy said. That wasn’t the answer you expected. You expected him to kick you out. He finished the whiskey in your glass.

He slided closer to you. “Are you sure?” you asked, he nodded. “Why don’t we try?” he asked, raising his eyebrows high.

You took a last drag from your cigarette, put it out and got back to staring into Tommy’s eyes. He got closer to you each passing second, “What do you say?” he asked. You didn’t say anything and just kissed him.

It was the moment you waited for since that man pushed you on the wall when you tried to rob his home. You didn’t know at that time but now, you did. He kissed you, you kissed him and he seemed to enjoy it just like he said.

You were both getting into it, he unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. Then there was a knock on the door, you split immediately. He buttoned his shirts again.

“Tommy, I came like you asked.” you turned to the door to see Polly. Tommy stood up, you clenched your jaw, hoping Polly wouldn’t ask for it. “Come in, Pol.” he said, you stood up too.

“I’m going to leave.” you thought it was your time to. “Sit down Y/N, this involves you too.” it was obviously about a new job. Possibly related to what he meant when he said something wrong was coming.

The kiss was everything and Tommy was keeping you in business too even after that. You assumed there were more kisses to come and it made you the happiest man on the planet.

[voiceless-terror]

all those sleep prompts are so killer and such big jon vibes!!! i would love to read anything on "- a character who refuses to share a sleeping space with anyone else, and it’s because he doesn’t want to disturb others/doesn’t want pity/is ashamed of his nightmares" with jon. bonus points if tim is involved and extra bonus points if tim also has experience with insomnia/nightmares, either himself or used to taking care of someone in his life with those issues...

Hey there! Here I am, finally writing the promised Jon/Tim that I should have written ages ago. Feels good to be on this train! I’ve placed this in pre-canon, when Jon and Tim are researchers and have just started dating. Hope you like!

“That was...really nice, Tim. Thank you.”

“Thank you? Jon, we split the check,” Tim throws an arm around his shoulder and it’s heavy and warm in all the right ways. “You know my policy on that. The person who asks you out pays the bill! Ergo, me.”

“I know, I know,” Jon relents under the pressure and burrows into Tim’s side. The wine’s gone to his head, he’s sure of it. Shouldn’t have had those three glasses. But the waiter was so attentive and Tim’s smile was infectious so he couldn’t help but say yes, of course, thank you, to every pour. “I just...I really enjoyed myself, is all.”

“I did too,” Tim’s voice goes to that soft, fond register he’s only just started using with Jon. Before it had been all gregarious charm, winks and nudges that he used interchangeably with friends and acquaintances alike. When Tim first asked him out, Jon thought he was joking; he rolled his eyes and went back to work, ignoring Tim’s look of hurt. Jon was used to practical jokes of this nature- he’s not exactly an attractive prospective partner, and several people have implied he was more trouble than he was worth. But a week later, on their usual coffee run, Tim offered to buy him dinner, his voice serious and shy and utterly unlike him. The look in his eyes was genuine and Jon had to say yes; who could refuse him, in the face of such sincerity?

It’s been a month and they’ve fallen into a sort of routine. Every week is a new spot- Tim’s a bit of a foodie, and he overheard him making a list of places with Sasha. It took up an entire page in his notebook, and Jon wonders if Tim will get sick of him before they finish it.

He stumbles on the sidewalk and Tim catches him with a steady hand on his waist. The cold air should be bracing but it is not; his dizziness increases two times over and it’s a long journey home. Tim knows this, which must lead to his next suggestion.

“You can spend the night at mine,” he says, voice purposefully light. Jon freezes. They hadn’t broached the topic yet, but he thinks Tim has some sort of idea. Rumors abound in research, after all. Tim must notice his nervousness because he stops walking, turning to face Jon with that same unbearable sincerity. 

“Nothing untoward, I promise,” Tim says, and Jon believes him. Tim hasn’t lied to him yet. “I just don’t feel comfortable putting you on the tube, and you’re a long way from home while I’m right around the corner.” Jon still doesn’t respond, so Tim continues. “No pressure, honestly. I could call you a cab, it’s not a big deal-”

“No, that’s-that’s too expensive.” Living in London is hard enough, especially on a researcher’s salary. But to spend the night at Tim’s, as innocent as it may be, fills him with dread. There’s a reason he lives alone. There’s a reason it took him almost a year before he stayed the night at Georgie’s.

Sleep has never been kind to him.

Jon has nightmares. Terrible, horrifying visions of make-believe that leave him screaming and crying and choking on his breath. Georgie had been about ready to call an ambulance the first time she witnessed it, but Jon was able to talk her down.

“These happen every night?” she’d asked, her face a mix of pity and concern. 

“Not every night,” he insisted. It was true. If he stayed up late, working himself to exhaustion, he could usually manage a dreamless sleep of at least five hours. But that came with its own difficulties; crankiness, irritability. It put a strain on most of his relationships. 

Tim, though- Tim is kind and understanding. Beneath the mask of sociability and flirtation lies a serious, determined person. Compassionate, loving, but in a quiet way and with small gestures. He makes lists. He puts in time. He asks Jon what he wants when they go out to eat and he doesn’t laugh or roll his eyes when Jon carries on for too long. 

“We can go to your place,” he whispers. “I-I think I’d like that.” Tim smiles and hooks an arm through his and Jon knows he’s made the right decision. Maybe tonight will be different. Maybe the wine will dull the terror that rules most of his life. The night is dark and Jon’s flat is cold and lonely. 

Tim’s flat, on the other hand, is warm and cozy. It’s neat and organized, but cluttered enough to give it personality and charm. There’s a couch calling his name and he answers it, practically collapsing in the cushions as Tim lets out a little laugh.

“No going to sleep yet,” he instructs and Jon can’t help but let out a groan. The warmth and safety of the spot and the closeness of Tim has suddenly made him comfortably tired, and he’d like to slip off to sleep in this pleasant haze. “Not until you’ve had some food and water. I’ve even got those crusty little granola bars you like so much.”

“They’re not crusty,” he grumbles, his voice stifled by a pillow. But he’s not in a fighting mood and his mind’s currently swimming with the fact that Tim stocked his favorite snack. 

“Very crusty, indeed,” Tim’s nudging him up into a sitting position and forcing water into his hands. “Drink up!”

“You’re very irritating, I hope you know,” Jon says as he leans his head onto Tim’s shoulder. Tim makes for a comfortable pillow. 

“Aw, you love it.” 

Maybe he does.

By the time he’s choked down the last of the bar, his eyes are fluttering and he can’t keep in his yawns. Tim puts a warm hand on his arm and it burns pleasantly as he pulls him up. “Time for bed, I think.”

The words startle Jon out of his haze and he blinks his eyes open, focusing on Tim’s gentle smile. “Er, I think-” he doesn’t want to disappoint the man, but he would rather be as cautious as possible. “I think it would be best if I slept out here.”

“On the couch?” Tim asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Oh- would you rather sleep alone?” Tim doesn’t seem too miffed about it, just confused, so Jon answers as honestly as he can.

“Yes.” He doesn’t want to, not really. But he needs to.

“Alright,” Tim agrees easily enough. “But you should take the bed, then. The sofa’s comfy but I know you have a bad back-”

“It’s fine for one night,” Jon responds. Forcing Tim to sleep on the sofa in his own flat seems terribly selfish.

“If you’re sure…”

“I am,” Jon assures, trying to convey his affection in a gentle smile. Tim returns it.

“I’ll just get you some sheets, then. Change of clothes, too.”

By the time Jon’s head hits the pillow, comfortably attired in Tim’s old joggers and t-shirt, he’s already half asleep. He thinks Tim’s already left the room but then he feels the warm pressure of a kiss to his forehead.

Perhaps he dreamed that, though.

__________

There’s a thread and it’s pulling Jon forward.

It’s not comfortable. Jon would rather stay here, in the library, surrounded by books and dim lights and knowledge he has control over. But there are whispers in the hallway, and someone’s telling him to go, go, go. 

And go he does. Down stairs, so many stairs, more stairs than the institute ought to have. There is something watching and something pulling; Jon is being split in two and somehow this is worse than actually seeing the spiders and the eyes that have haunted him all these years. This, he feels in his soul. Something is at stake.

There’s a door. This is how it always ends, you see- with a door. And Jon’s fist, small and childish and grubby, raises to knock against the wood. It echoes too many times as Jon tries to step back, get off this porch and out of this nightmare but it is too late, the deed is done and the door is opening and a single, spindly black leg creeps out of the door hello, Mr. Spider-

“Jon!”

There are limbs holding him but it’s not the many-legged creature of his nightmares- they’re familiar and strong even as he thrashes against them but someone is screaming and the sound is haunting and painful-

And it’s him. Jon wrenches his eyes open to find himself safe and sound, held in place by Tim’s arms. His heart continues to stutter and he wheezes- Tim’s got a hand on his back and a soothing murmur going.

“You’ve got to breathe, Jon. Slow.” Tim takes his shaking hand and puts it to his own chest. “Like this. In and out. There you go. Nice and slow.” The words are calm and practiced; Tim’s done this before, with someone else. As his heartbeat resumes a normal rhythm, he wonders who. 

There’s a hand on Jon’s face, gently wiping away tears he wasn’t aware he shed. Tim’s eyes are far-away, sort of, like he’s just going through the motions, slow and loving. “There we are,” he says as he finally meets Jon’s eyes. “Better now?”

“Y-Yes,” he croaks back. His hand is still gripping at Tim’s shirt but he doesn’t let go until the reality of the situation sets in. “Oh God- I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you-”

“Is that why you slept out here?” Tim asks, his voice patient. “Does this happen a lot?”

“M-More than I care to admit.” Jon feels a sudden need to explain himself, to let Tim know he tries to keep it under control as best he can. “I’ve tried everything- tea, therapy, p-pills- it doesn’t work.” A note of frustration creeps into his voice. “Something doesn’t want me to sleep, I guess.”

“Just thought you were a workaholic, to be honest,” Tim pulls him into his side and Jon melts, the tension slowly leaving his body. “Should’ve known better. We work at the Magnus Institute, after all.” The laugh that comes from both of them is bitter. “D’you want to sleep in my bed, maybe? Just- just for company. I’ve been told that helps.”

“I-I don’t want to wake you.” The argument is weak and the both of them know it.

“You already have, love.” The endearment slips out unnoticed by Tim, but Jon hears it. “You’ll wake me either way, but I’d rather you didn’t wake up alone.”

“O-Oh.” There’s a lot of care in those words. Jon doesn’t know what to do with it, except agree. “Yes, I’ll- if, if you don’t mind-”

“Wouldn’t offer if I did.” He wouldn’t, Jon knows. Tim always means what he says when it comes to him.

So they curl up in his bed, an arm slung across Jon’s waist, his back to Tim’s chest. There are no spiders here, not in this bed that smells of dryer sheets and detergent and Tim. He’s almost asleep when the arm around his waist tightens suddenly.

“My brother always said the pressure helped. When he had bad dreams.” Jon opens his eyes.

Tim never mentioned a brother; it never came up in any of their conversations. Tim knows Jon is an only child, that he was brought up by his grandmother and had a lonely childhood. He didn’t realize, in all of their time together, that he knew so little of Tim’s own background, besides his publishing career.

Nobody liked to talk about what brought them to the Magnus Institute. It was like some unspoken rule, some shared trauma that somehow kept them all silent and apart.

“Your brother?” he whispers, turning over to see Tim’s face. Its dark, but he thinks he can see a brightness in Tim’s eyes like unshed tears. 

“Danny.” Tim says the name like he’s asking for forgiveness that Jon can’t give. He sees a tear drip down the man’s face and he reaches for it, just like Tim did before. “He was...he was my little brother. And he was so, so good.” Tim’s voice breaks and something in Jon breaks too. “And something took him from me.” His expression is hard but his hand reaches out to lovingly trace Jon’s face, as if trying to memorize its shape.

“I’m sorry,” Jon knows his apology is not enough, that it will never fill the gap in Tim’s heart. Instead, he finds words spilling from his lips, as if sharing his own pain will help too. “I-I saw someone get taken, once. I didn’t- I didn’t love them, but- but it was because of me.” Tim’s hand is in his hair, tucking a curl behind his ear as his voice wobbles. “It should’ve been me.” 

Tim draws him close and squeezes; Jon buries his face in the crook of his neck and inhales. “I’m glad it wasn’t you, Jon,” Tim whispers as he runs a hand down his back. “I’m glad it wasn’t you.” Jon isn’t Danny and Tim isn’t offering him absolution but it’s fine, for tonight.

Jon doesn’t dream.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494077

[chaolie]

Fundywastaken Week, Day 1 - A Winter's Ball

Here I go again, writing for another one of @fundyfiles' events!! Was this inspired by the song from Hamilton?? Is it just a ball?? Who knows! (Tho honestly, it just has a little reference to the song and not much more). Also, this is kind of written from Dream's POV because I figured that would be interesting to do! As always, you can go read this on my Ao3, too!

Characters: Fundy, Dream, Others mentioned/implied

Words: ~2.5k

The ballroom was… a change for sure. It was big and spacy, its walls weren’t made of stone, but instead of wood, and rather than being dark, torches and lanterns made everything inside seem brighter. It was nothing like battle fortifications, it was cozy and friendly, it allowed people to reconnect. With its soft music and the sweet foods available to all, it assured them that the war was over. And while sure, most attendees preferred sticking to their long-time allies than their previous enemies, a few people dared to engage in conversation with the ones from the opposing side.

Dream kept leaning against the wall and enjoyed the chill breeze that reached him through the cracks. The wood was thick, so it wasn’t as cold as the air usually got when it was snowing, but it was refreshing enough. Every once in a while, he took a moment to look for his friends, and each time his gaze reached them, they seemed to be having fun. Good, that’s what they were there for, after all. And while he did promise to them that he’d do the same, he never said that his definition of fun wasn’t simply supporting a wall.

A tap on his shoulder almost caught him off-guard, he could’ve even flinched if it wasn’t the 5th time he felt it during the same night. With a quiet sigh, he turned his head and looked at Sapnap, the one responsible for tapping him. His friend was almost breathless, which wasn’t too surprising. From what Dream saw so far, when he wasn’t busy bothering him, he was dancing with anyone willing. And the two men who just recently arrived at this part of the land seemed more willing to dance the night away with him.

“Still no one?” Sapnap asked, still catching his breath. Dream nodded.

“No one seems too interested in me,” he admitted, briefly gesturing to all the people in the building.

“Or they’re too scared to ask you for a dance,” the man suggested. “So why don’t you do that?” he asked, and Dream could only shrug. Why didn’t he? “What, you don’t know who to ask?”

“...Do you have any suggestions?” he muttered eventually. Sapnap stifled a laugh and looked around the ballroom.

“Hm, well, I mean, I won’t mind you stealing one of those guys for a dance,” he suggested, glancing towards the two men he was spending his night with.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Dream shook his head.

Before Sapnap could throw out another suggestion, there came a loud crash. They both turned their heads towards one of the tables with food and saw a fox hybrid wearing a pastel-coloured L’Manburg suit standing over a broken plate. Just seconds later, Wilbur was next to him, the two exchanging some words too quietly for Dream or Sapnap to hear. Eventually, the fox turned and left, walking over to an empty bench and sitting down only to glare at his country’s leader.

“...Do you know who’s that?” Dream asked, turning to look at Sapnap again. The other man almost managed to stop himself from laughing quietly.

“Yeah. If I’m not wrong, Fundy? But look out, if you decide to ask him for a dance you might start a second war. It would be funny, though,” he joked. When Dream didn’t quite react, he sighed. “He’s Wilbur’s son,” he clarified. The masked man nodded briefly. “So?”

“Don’t you have people to get back to?” Dream asked, motioning to the two men Sapnap’s been dancing with. His friend sighed.

“Sure. Good luck with finding someone,” he wished. After Dream answered with another nod, he turned and left.

The man closed his eyes and leaned against the wall again. He admired how fast Sapnap seemed to move on from the war and how easily he found himself in this ball, but that was not something they had in common. With the chilly breeze keeping him company, he let out a deep sigh and got to relax for a whole minute until someone tapped him on his arm again. Expecting it to be Sapnap, he opened his eyes and turned towards him.

“Back already-” he started, but quickly noticed that the person next to him was not his friend. Instead, he was now face to face with the fox hybrid they noticed before. “Oh. Can I help you?” he asked, puzzled.

“Probably,” the fox, Fundy, shrugged. This only baffled the masked man further.

“...What do you need, then?”

“Well, you see… I kind of overheard you a moment ago?” he started, and Dream was very grateful for his mask covering his expression. Before he could figure out how to answer, Fundy went on. “And, as you could’ve noticed,” he gestured briefly to the broken plate still on the ground, “I’m kind of looking for ways to annoy my father? So, uh… Do you maybe want to... I don't know, hang out or something?”

Dream barely stifled a laugh of relief, this was quite a good outcome of an “I heard you talking about me” situation. And if he agreed, Sapnap would stop worrying about him and focus on enjoying the ball for himself. And annoying General Soot in a harmless way seemed like a great way to pass the night. And, well, Fundy certainly seemed like an interesting guy too. All things considered, he nodded.

“You know what? Sure. Do you have anything in mind?” he asked. After a short pause of surprise, Fundy’s face lit up with the brightest smile Dream ever got to see.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think you’d- uh- Do you dance?” he suggested finally. After giving it a second of thought, Dream fully pushed himself off the wall.

“I certainly try,” he answered. Somehow, Fundy’s smile grew wider as he held out his hand.

“Let’s try together, then,” he grinned. Taking the fox hybrid’s hand felt like sealing his fate for the night… but there wasn’t anything Dream wanted to do more.

They walked further from the wall and closer to the jukeboxes. The music left much to be desired, not one song played until the end ever since Tommy and Tubbo got their hands on the discs prepared for the ball and played them in a way only they truly understood. But it wasn’t too tragic, it was still good enough for a dance or two. Or three. Or four. Or- which dance was it, again?

The time they spent holding hands and swirling to the music was not what they expected it to be. Dream, who originally accepted the offer as more of a “why not” felt himself get almost giddy, and each time a song stopped, he found himself quietly praying that the next one would come on before his partner would decide that they spent enough time together. Luckily for him, Fundy didn’t even consider letting go first, and while his original intention was enjoying the shocked and annoyed looks Wilbur shot at the two, he barely acknowledged anything or anyone that wasn’t the masked man swaying with him or the music anymore. Only when their legs were barely able to hold them up and their hands were starting to ache each time they dared to raise them, they slowed down and stumbled over to a pillar, next to which they could catch their breaths.

“...Do you want to get some food?” Dream suggested once he decided he recovered enough. Once again, he got to see Fundy’s face light up at the offer.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded with a grin before pushing himself off the pillar. “Let’s go.”

Without truly acknowledging it, Fundy grabbed Dream’s hand and led him to one of the tables. While he could blame it on being tired, it still took the masked man an embarrassing amount of time to realize how he was following so close behind. When he did finally notice the fox hybrid’s hand over his own, leading him through the ballroom, the idea of pulling away didn’t even cross his mind. They soon reached the table, where they took some of the more interesting-looking foods, neither of them sure if they ever got to try those before.

They sat on one of the benches against the wall and tried all the snacks they managed to carry with them. Some were sweet, some were bitter, and some were so terrible they’d never touch them again. Even so, Dream found it strangely endearing to watch Fundy’s expression change each time he tried something bad. He didn’t even mind the risk of tasting something absolutely disgusting each time Fundy passed him a piece of food without a word, it only made the few actually tasty foods much sweeter.

Just as they were running out of snacks and were more focused on sharing a conversation filled with quiet laughs and silly jokes, someone approached them. The man standing at their side cleared his throat, and they both fell silent. They looked up and saw Wilbur, and while his arms were crossed, his face indicated defeat. Even so, Dream noticed Fundy’s grip on the bench they were sitting on tightening.

“Fundy, do you have a moment to speak with me?” he asked finally. The fox hybrid hummed quietly.

“Well, uhh…” he muttered. Figuring he was looking for an excuse, Dream decided to jump in.

“Can we step outside before that? This music really isn’t helping my headache,” he asked, directing the question at Fundy.

“Yeah, sure!” he nodded quickly before looking back at Wilbur. “Uh. Maybe when I’m back?” he suggested with a nervous smile. His father sighed, but nodded.

“Don’t catch a cold in the snow,” he said before turning around and leaving. Once he was gone, Fundy audibly let out a sigh of relief.

“Do you actually want to go outside?” he asked finally. Dream wondered for a second before nodding.

“Fresh air is always good,” he pointed out, getting to his feet. Fundy did the same before looking around the ballroom.

“There’s an exit right there,” he noticed, taking the first couple of steps towards it.

This time Dream had to admit to doing it consciously, but as he followed the fox hybrid, he found himself reaching out to grab his hand. The second he did, Fundy paused and turned to look at him. For a moment, everything seemed to stop, and Dream already prepared for his hand to be shaken off and pushed away. Instead, he got to once again see that endearing, bright smile appear on Fundy's face as he continued on his way. Behind his mask, Dream smiled back, and while his grin was just as genuine, Fundy wouldn’t know.

They made their way outside and into the makeshift, snow-covered garden. While the main building for the ball was built with attention to detail and the most skilled builders were working on it for a little short of a month, the garden was a last-minute addition and lacked the same care. It didn’t matter too much, though, it was much more quiet and the small snowflakes falling from the sky made it look almost magical, even if it was slightly asymmetrical. The two stopped by the frozen fountain and leaned against the cool, smooth stone at its side. Their hands were still connected, but neither of them seemed to pay too much attention to it anymore.

“So, do you have any idea what he wanted to talk about?” Dream asked after sitting in silence for quite some time. Fundy shrugged.

“He probably wanted to tell me he won’t make me attend any other balls and that I can stop hanging out with you. Doesn’t matter, I’m having fun anyway,” he answered.

“Did he make you come to this one?”

“Basically. He said it’s too important to miss and all that. Did someone make you attend this too?” Fundy asked. Dream shrugged.

“Uh… not really. I mean…” he hesitated. How should he even put this into words? Absent-mindedly, he reached to the back of his head and undid his mask. Maybe some snow actually falling onto his face would help him? “My friends made me promise to come here and ‘have fun’, and I didn’t want to go back on that.”

“U-uh-huh,” Fundy hummed after overcoming the surprise that stopped him from speaking at first. Dream turned to look at him, and found him glancing between the man and his hands. Or rather, his mask in his hands. Oh.

“O-oh, sorry, I- uh-” Dream stuttered, slapping the item back onto his face. It was there for a reason, and- why did he take it off again? He wasn’t usually this comfortable around strangers. Around anyone, actually, so why-

“Oh no, it’s- it’s fine, you can keep it off if you want!” Fundy assured him quickly. “I-if you want, I don’t-” he tried to elaborate, but he was at a loss of words, and Dream was already lowering it again. More cautiously this time.

“...Are you sure?” he asked. People… didn’t usually like what they found under it. Fundy’s awkward expression was once again brightened by his smile as he nodded.

“Yeah! It’s cool,” he confirmed.

With a soft smile on his own face, Dream put the mask on the edge of the fountain and allowed the snow to touch his skin for the first time in forever. The silence he and Fundy fell into was strangely comfortable, and neither of them seemed to really mind it. Sure, the man could feel the fox hybrid’s gaze on himself every once in a while, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t guilty of doing the same, of glancing at his companion and… He was never so grateful for snow. It was a good enough explanation of the red shade tinting his face.

“Hey, uh, Dream…” Fundy started, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” the man answered immediately. Perhaps a bit too fast? It certainly took Fundy off-guard, but he managed to collect himself.

“So… I know this was all meant to just annoy my dad and such, but…. Do you want to meet again sometime?” he offered. The surprise on Dream’s face must’ve been obvious, and it certainly took away the fox hybrid’s confidence. His ears flattened against his head and he was just about to stutter out some excuse for asking, but the man managed to regain his voice just in time.

“Yeah! I’d love to!” he nodded, and couldn’t help a small smile crossing his lips. Fundy visibly relaxed upon hearing that. Then, there came excitement.

“Really?! That’s- Yes! Okay, so, uh- when?” he stuttered out, barely keeping himself in one place. And yet again, that bright smile on his face… Dream would do anything to see it every day.

“Whenever you want to,” he answered. Suddenly, he felt just as giddy, and he really hoped that Fundy would pick a date that would come soon. He couldn’t wait-

“Uh- Tomorrow?”

“...Sounds perfect.”

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

ii. Fun Facts About The Cast | Actor Au | Obey Me

Request: Its not, I love this AU tho

Word Count: 2303 words

Page Count: 6.5 pages

A.N. Hope you guys all like this! Fun facts about the cast lmao

[ Actor AU Masterlist ]

Fun Facts

Benjamin ( Lucifer )

- Is the dad of the cast.

- In any scenes with Dmitri ( Luke ), he makes sure to know if he is alright, and often will stop scenes to ask.

- He also is an overall joker, so he has trouble filming most of his scenes, will often start laughing in the middle of filming and can break character the easiest.

- Best with kids overall, probably due to having his own, keeps their lives private tho.

- His hair was white for a past show, but the directors liked the look, so that's why he has white tips.

- One of the few male characters who cannot do those diets to accentuate his abs- so that's why his character is always covered up.

- He's in shape! But, he likes the fat that protects his muscle, he says he needs to stay soft to hug his kids.

- Known diabetic, so there's a table full of foods so his sugars are stable, the cast has glucagon shots all over the sets to be safe.

- Is in his early thirties, but people say he can pull off early twenties- he just snorts at this.

Avery ( Mammon ) 

- Takes the job seriously, and his scenes are easiest to film.

- Dark humor and often is the "Lucifer" of the cast.

- Seeing him switch from Avery to Mammon leaves the rest of the cast and crew fucking s h o o k.

- Will always be seen looking his finest.

- No, no one has seen him in public in sweatpants or anything like that. His image is very serious.

- Is a sweetheart when with the rest of the cast tho.

- His eyes are actually that blue.

- No one is sure if his hair is actually white or not, the way he speaks about it is vague, and fans are always theorizing.

- Watching over Benji ( Lucifer ), and is usually the one to tell him to check his sugars, since the other is quite forgetful.

- Is an immigrant from Turkey, so he has an accent, makes people thirst for him more.

- Helps aspiring actors and directors get into the field, and goes on hard work and talent, not who tries to pay him off.

Jackson ( Leviathan )

- Is the resident fuckboi.

- Always with males and females hanging off him, at this point the pop gave up, no- they aren't his partner.

- Flexes a shit ton.

- Wearing chains, a Rolex, and anything designer.

- Donates half of his salary to ocean reserves and protection funds, he has the money for it, and the show pays him well.

- Always at the beach, or near lake houses and shit, the one ( 1 ) thing he likes about his character.

- Hates the fringe he wears with a passion.

- His hair is actually a light shade of brown, his eyes are a darker shade, but still pretty light.

- First generation, his parents are Korean, so you can pick up hints of their accent in his speech patterns. Gets heavy when he's sleepy. 

Ross ( Satan )

- Is a stoner.

- Goes on Instagram lives with either MC and gets high, talking about the dumbest shit or he's alone in his room and his cats join in.

- "So, if you think about- oH MY GOD PRINCESS. YES, COME TO DADDY."

- Has a kitten curled up on him, purrs loud as hell because mf is so warm, and the lives turn into purring ASMR sessions.

- Into self care, has a line of vitamins, face masks, and everything you can think of.

- Calls his fans his SaStans.

- Dmitri ( Luke ) is his younger brother.

- Will never let him out of his sight, and they love to be as mean as they can to each other, they love each other but love to bully one another.

- Is from the Bronx, so his accent is what Avery ( Mammon ) mimics for his character, often just records Avery's lines and sends them to him so he can practice.

- Owns an animal shelter he funds.

- "Carol Baskin? Who's that?"

- The REAL tiger king.

- Gets all his cats dyed to look like tigers.

Micheal ( Asmodeus )

- Chill as fuck.

- Has like 5+ kids, so the role fits him perfectly, and now it's an on running joke among fans that they are all his illegitimate children.

- You know why Asmodeus on the show wears so much makeup? 

- His eldest daughter is one of the makeup artists, and she loves to try new looks on him, and the producers think it would fit the character well.

- People speculate his age, looks young but is in his late 30's.

- His first child was born when he was 16, so he likes to support safe heavens and things like that for struggling youths- from being kicked out to needing assistance with mental health.

- Tired af.

- Always in sweatpants, him and Ross ( Satan ) are the trademark bums of the cast.

- Thinks it would be hilarious that when Micheal is revealed, in the show, that he plays the character.

- Is a writer as well, TSL is a real series and he writes it, so they let him use it in the show.

- Vlogs in his car, in a Wendy's parking lot, eating a shit ton of food and talking about the most random shit.

- Half asleep in all interviews, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, it's gotten to the point where everyone memes it too.

James ( Beelzebub )

- Himbo.

- One of the few cast members closest to their character.

- Absolute sweetheart.

- He's 20 years old.

- But how is he so fucking big???

- Comes from a big ass family, the middle child, he's baby 4 out of 9.

- All his siblings are redheads too.

- Very playful tho, with the cast always going along with his antics, making for the best bloopers.

- The contacts he wears make him blind af, which doesn't help since he's so tall, and will bump his head on the doorways and such.

- Can speak Scottish-Gaelic, and even has an accent to top it off.

- He is an absolute unit, and one of the characters who does the stupid diet to show off his form.

- Literally on the verge of passing out sometimes, so he needs to rest with Benjamin ( Lucifer ).

- All pictures, shirtless scenes, and such are filmed first so he can rest after and go back to a normal diet.

- Quiet guy, but loves talking about sports and his siblings tho.

- Is always carrying MC and Dmitri ( Luke ) around, now there are many off-guard photos posted to the casts shared twitter+instagram accounts

- Still pretty new to acting, but is amazing at emotional scenes, to the point fans actually think he's having a breakdown.

- Nah, he's just thinking about being alone, without his family- and it gets him bawling for said scenes.

Conner ( Belphegor )

- Crackhead 

- Will not stay still, either for filming or just when everyone is chilling.

- Scenes where he's asleep? He's usually turned away from the camera, cause the idiot is smiling and giggling.

- Has tripped over his tail multiple times.

- Comes from a farm-life, literal cowboy, his southern accent just hits hard.

- He hides it very well, but it comes out at times or with certain words.

- Sees Benjamin ( Lucifer ) as a mentor, he's in his early twenties and new to the scene, but they are best friends.

- Benjamin ( Lucifer ) has now acquired a new child.

- A living meme.

- You know how Tom Holland can't keep a secret?

- Yeah, he's worse.

- Rest of the cast have all had to physically stop him from talking at one point.

- The cow pillow? It's actually his, when he got the role his father has sewn it himself, so he will bring it with him.

- It's basically free promo for the show and comforts him in the city space.

- Gets overwhelmed in large crowds, so he usually makes sure to have another cast member close by, or he will literally leave to a less crowded place to take a breath.

- Apologized to MC after the scene in which he kills them.

- His mama raised him right, so he takes MC to his house for a movie, in which they cuddle and relax for the night.

- Felt really bad for like... a whole week.

- "Country boy I love you~"

Thomas ( Barbatos )

- Brat.

- This is one cocky man, he's smooth as hell, and one whisper can make you weak in the knees.

- Grew out the one side of his hair, but he slicks his hair back or will pin it back, dyes it himself when it's time to film.

- Loves to piss Alex ( Simeon ) off.

- Has a true crime podcast with Roman ( Diavolo ), Alex ( Simeon ), and Benjamin ( Lucifer ), because they're all old friends.

- Donates to the cold case foundation because he knows what it's like to lose someone and not know what happened to them.

- He has a twin who is his stunt double, they love to fuck with the rest of the cast, both of them are little shits.

- Is the motherfucker who makes a channel and reads the crackhead fanfics

- Loves every word of it tho.

- Responds to every fans dms. Every. One. As a whole account for this shit.

- Walks with a bit of a limp, so he wears a brace to help even himself, but during wide-shot scenes you can catch it sometimes.

- Took actual classes to be a butler for the role.

Roman ( Diavolo )

- Himbo 2.0

- Catch this man tweeting what he's trying to search up at 2 in the morning.

- Leaves them because it's hilarious, makes videos where he reads them out sometimes, it's all in good fun.

- He has a set of triplets at home, so that dad energy radiates into the show too.

- You know how Diavolo seems sus at points of the game? Yeah, he's still like that IRL.

- The rest of the cast was put off at first, but that's how he is, and everyone eased up pretty quickly.

- Makes jokes that he has family in the Italian mob, but needed to stop once his father called him, saying that there were too many eyes on the family now.

- Man was s h o o k.

- Has sensitive skin, so all his makeup and body paints need to be specially made, made with all natural products.

- The bags under his eyes are baby bags.

- Will bring his kids on set, to which everyone will gush over, and watch them when they aren't filming.

- Very private with his kids ( to the public ), doesn't post about them much, and only the cast really sees them.

- Wine dad.

- Catch him bringing the whole cast out for "family trips"

- People nicknamed him Caesar

- So many JoJo references now

- "SHHHHIIIIIZZZAAAAAAAA"

- "Please, no."

Dmitri ( Luke )

- Is actually 12.

- Quotes vines, tiktoks, and other memes.

- Is one of the few people that Alex ( Simeon ) is openly nice too.

- Also has an accent, but since he's young and is learning, can now mimic every other cast member's accent.

- Wear earplugs for certain scenes, because of how raunchy and dark the scenes can get, so Simeon and Barbatos are always conveniently in the way, hiding the plugs.

- Is Ross' ( Satan ) younger brother, and if he isn't hanging off of him he's with James ( Beelzebub ), Benjamin ( Lucifer ), or MC.

- They know there are some sick fucks in Hollywood so he has an adult with him at all times.

- Posts pictures of him cuddling up to his brother and the kittens, new foods he is trying, and some pictures with family.

- He often is considered the new Gordon Ramsay.

- Had a collaboration with him.

- It was amazing.

- Best boy, catch him taking a nap in his ( and Ross' ) trailer, surrounded by tiger kittens.

- The TIGER PRINCE.

Alex ( Simeon )

- Avatar of wrath who?

- The embodiment of "No talk me, I angy"

- Jkjk, though he does have a temper, he only loses it with Benjamin ( Lucifer ), Roman ( Diavolo ), and Thomas ( Barbatos ).

- A sweetheart with all children though, like you know Simeon on the show? 

- Yeah, he's only like that with kids.

- And respectable adults.

- Mama raised him well 2.0

- Grew up in NY

- Born in Gucci and Balenciaga.

- Was a child model and slowly expanded to acting.

- Dark humor galore.

- If Simeon met Alex, he'd probably have a stroke, cause THOSE WORDS are coming out of HIS mouth.

- Says the weirdest shit too.

- "Put your hand on my ass and call me a virgin."

- Bro are you okay???

- He is fluent in five languages and has a high IQ.

- Speaks: English, French, Italian, Arabic, and Mandarin

- Has a support system for children who struggle to learn conventionally, with trained tutors who are affordable, he knows what it's like to need certain needs met to learn, and he wants every kid to get that chance.

- Rough around the edges but has a heart of gold.

Derek ( Solomon )

- Loves to smoke with Ross ( Satan )

- He is more aloof than chill.

- One of the more awkward members, doesn't know how to socialize well, and is very shy.

- Watch out for Dmitri ( Luke ) on the down low.

- Didn't have the best life growing up, so he is a lot more street smart than book smart.

- Doesn't have a big social media influence.

- Very nice to fans, gives full hugs to them, and everyone feels so appreciated.

- Has a husky named Blue.

- Also has an owl, who he took in when he found it on his porch with a broken wing, and nursed it to health.

- He set it free, but she comes back often, and has a nest in the tree closest to his house.

- Named her Lovely.

- Animal person, so he helps Ross out with his animal shelters.

- Uses Blue as a living pillow, and only sleeps in his boxers when Blue is on his bed, because goddamn does that dog radiate heat.

- Him and MC live together, having grown up together, and made their livings together. 

[gureishi]

I had spam and eggs for breakfast

XD though can I request 20 with zen, fluff please :D

Truly thank you for telling me, breakfast is everything

Yes, of course! What a sweet prompt for lovely Zen—I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope you enjoy it!! ♡

twenty: fall in love all over again

ZenXReader, T, words: 1988

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The big analog clock on the wall tells you it’s long past sunset. In the studio, there’s no indication of day or night—there are no windows, and the high-ceilinged room is lit for mid-morning. As far as you can tell, it’s been mid-morning for over ten hours.

You slip out of the soft, low-backed chair, and wander over to the craft services table, mostly for something to do. You pour yourself some decaf coffee (because you really want to sleep tonight) and hover near the obnoxiously large snack platter, stretching your stiff arms.

A youngish man with a beard appears beside you. You shoot him a sideways glance; his badge identifies him as a PA.

“So you’re his manager, huh?” he says. You follow his gaze across the expansive room; it falls, of course, on Zen, who is resplendent in a black mock neck sweater and blazer. He’s getting his makeup touched up, perched delicately on the edge of a stool. You smile at the sight of him: he sits perfectly still, his face tilted up obediently. His hair glitters under the studio lights, like it’s been adorned with ice crystals.

“Yes, I am,” you say politely, because you don’t know this man, and what are you supposed to say? Yes, and also we sleep in the same bed?

“Lucky you,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. You sigh. Like you, he’s just looking for a way to pass the time. “He’s crazy hot. Any good stories? Drama?”

You laugh. You seem to have fallen head-first into an impossible situation. You have plenty of drama, you suppose—that morning, Zen had accidentally put berries in his yogurt before remembering that their sugar content is too high for a filming day. You doubt this is the kind of drama the PA is looking for.

Before you can say anything, a script assistant who you vaguely know from another set drifts over to the table, croissant in hand.

“You idiot, they live together!” she interrupts, face alight, evidently thrilled to drop this particular bomb. The PA gawks; the assistant speaks in a low voice, filling him in on the more public details of your relationship.

You slip away as discretely as you can, stifling a yawn. Seeing people make the connection, put together the pieces of your relationship—this was thrilling, once. Nowadays, you feel like there’s no crazy, misconstrued version of your relationship that you haven’t already heard. Today, you really just want to go home, crawl into your warm bed, and sleep for as many hours as humanly possible.

You collapse back into your chair, pulling out your phone out of habit. It’s useless—there’s no service in the studio. 

You watch idly as they do a few more takes. It’s not a very exciting shot: Zen turns a corner and walks toward the camera. Then he does it again. And again. It’s boring, but you don’t really mind—you love watching him work. He’s so serious when the cameras are on and so enthusiastic between shots, bouncing on the balls of his feet with anticipation. You’d never know, from looking at him, how many hours you’ve all spent in this chilly, windowless warehouse. He’s practically radiating zeal.

Finally, finally, they wrap for the day. The director whispers to her assistant and the call is repeated, echoing throughout the huge room. Suddenly, there’s a bustle of activity. You draft a quick text to Zen’s agent and another to his publicist; they’ll go through when you get out of this cellular data dead zone.

You linger as people start to disperse. It’s chaos as the crowd moves and shifts, packing up and yelling goodbyes across the room. The first day of filming is always this way: long, boisterous, draining.

You’re drafting a longer email when he finally approaches you, his tall figure casting a shadow over your phone screen.

“Ready to go home, babe?” 

He’s in full anti-paparazzi gear, a baseball hat and a mask and a giant scarf. His eyes—the only part of him that’s visible—glimmer, and he winks at you.

“Please,” you sigh, tossing your phone into your bag.

He doesn’t take your hand, because his publicist has repeatedly asked him to please stop doing that while on location. He nudges you with his shoulder, though, offering you a little bit of his warmth.

He’s tired, too—you can tell, though you’re sure no one else could. You see it in the way he walks, his strides just a shade shorter than usual—and in the way his voice sounds, a little bit deep, a little bit muted.

You’re quiet as you walk to the car; he waves goodbye to everyone, calling them all by name—the actors, the assistants, the hair stylists and set dressers and boom operators. It’s just like him to have learned all of this already, you think.

You make your way down a bafflingly long hallway and—at last—into the parking lot. It’s fully night, the moon high in the sky. You take a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of fresh air in your nostrils.

Your phone buzzes repeatedly as a day’s worth of texts come in. You ignore them and shoot a quick text to the driver. Zen throws his arms up over his head and breathes deeply.

It’s routine, you think, as the car pulls up, as Zen tosses another goodbye over his shoulder at a departing electrician. All of it: waking up together, going to work together. Leaving work together, riding back home.

As soon as the door is closed, Zen slumps against you, his head on your shoulder. You lay a hand on his knee.

“How do you think today went?” you ask him. He can be tired, now that he’s alone with you. He’s always acting when he’s at work, even when he’s not on camera.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into your neck. “I’m not sure. I didn’t even say any lines yet.”

You giggle. “Yeah. It was mostly you walking back and forth, huh.”

He laughs his sweet, breathy, sleepy laugh—the one that never fails to give you butterflies, even after all this time.

You fall into silence. You feel the tiredness in your bones: the hours of sitting have made your butt a little numb, and your eyes burn from the studio lights. You remember, vaguely, the way you felt the very first time you came to a shoot with him—like the world was unfurling before you. You wish you could rekindle just a little of that naïve enthusiasm.

You almost don’t notice the car pulling up in front of the apartment. Zen lifts his head off your shoulder and presses a feather-light kiss to your cheek.

“We’re home, my love.”

You thank the driver and follow Zen—out of the car, down the steps, through the door.

“Okay.” He turns to you, tossing off his hat, his mask hanging from one ear. He’s grinning like he has a secret. “Please wait in the living room, darling.”

“Why?” He shakes his head and kisses you swiftly on the lips, darting away before you have time to respond.

Puzzled, you hang your jacket and flop onto the couch, finally catching up on the messages you missed all day. Almost everyone is in the RFA chatroom; you check in, tell them about the filming. They are amused that Zen was just being filmed walking around all day; there’s more to his character than that! you want to yell at them.

Just then, you notice an unexpected flowery scent drifting into the room—roses and lavender. You sit up, sniffing the air. What on earth could he be doing right now?

As if on cue, Zen appears in the doorway in a cloud of perfumed air. His hair’s untied, splayed artfully over his shoulders. He holds out an arm for you and you scramble to your feet. He laughs gleefully—it’s a beautiful sight to behold; he’s all sparkles and unbridled joy.

“Where are we going?” you ask, laughing as he dramatically sweeps you down the short hallway. It’s not a big apartment—there isn’t really much of anywhere to go.

“Ta-da!” He opens the bathroom door with a flourish.

You inhale sharply.

The overhead light is off and he’s lit every candle in the house—they’re on the sink, on the floor, on the edges of the tub. Through the warm, flickering light, you see light, faintly colored steam rising—you peer down and see that he’s filled the tub with hot water and bubbles in numerous pastel colors. There are rose petals and tiny sprigs of lavender floating on the surface.

“Zen!”

He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it ever-so-gently.

“You gave me nearly twelve hours of your precious time today,” he says, and his voice comes out a little too fast, the way it does when he gets excited and his mouth can’t keep up with his mind. “I know how exhausting it is sitting in the studio. I can’t bear thinking about you feeling cold and tired and sore, all for my sake.” He pauses; caresses your cheek with one long finger. “You’re my whole world. I just want you to feel warm.”

You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him enthusiastically; he stumbles a little, caught off guard, and then catches himself against the doorframe, kissing you back with surprising energy.

You pull away just slightly, your lips centimeters from his. His breath tickles your nose.

“You’re the sweetest, kindest man to ever live,” you say.

“And the most beautiful,” he reminds you, lips just grazing yours, making the bottoms of your feet tingle. “But in this case, all I’ve done is fill up the bathtub. I can do a lot more.”

Your breath catches in your throat. His large hand is at the small of your back.

“C-can I tell you something?” you stammer, before you’re completely swept off your feet.

“Anything, my love.”

“Do you ever feel…hmmm.” You pull back and he lets you, swiping a hand through his perfect silver hair. “Do you ever feel like we’ve sort of fallen into a routine? Like we live together and work together and…do you know what I mean?”

He tilts his head to the side, as if considering it for the first time.

“I suppose that’s true,” he says. “We are together a lot. Which is the only thing I’ve dreamed of since the day I met you, by the way.” 

You laugh. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I was just thinking…our lives feel so normal nowadays. You know? But then you go and do something sweet for me like this and…”

“You fall in love with me again?” He winks at you, his red eyes glittering. “That’s exactly what I was just thinking. Sometimes when I’m feeling tired or out of it I look over at you and I just fall head over heels. So much I can’t even bear it.”

“You’re not already head over heels for me?” 

He throws out an arm and catches himself on the doorframe just above you, pressing you body into his chest, leaning over you. You’re wrapped up in the intoxicating, fresh scent of him.

“I am crazy about you,” he says. “I am crazy about you today and I’ll be crazy about you tomorrow and I’ll be crazy about you in one hundred years.”

You breathe in deeply. He still makes your head spin.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you!” he sings, his voice high and sweet. “Now go take a bath while the water’s still warm, my darling. I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”

So you do.

And of course he will be.