#I sigh and put American Pie back on

[youngpettyqueen]

we dont talk enough about hyperfixating on songs. you know when you fixate so hard on a song you physically cant think about any other song. you try to listen to anything else and you feel understimulated and like its Not Enough so you have to put the Hyperfixation Song back on and listen to nothing else until it rides itself out

[anthonys237thfreckle]

‘Promise’ - Javier ‘Javi’ x Kate Carter & F! reader (angst!)

someone asked for a part two and I realized how good of an idea that was lmao. I need indirect ways to incorporate my past experiences into my fics anyway.

part one

prompt: you made a promise to distance yourself from Javi and Kate

TW: mentions of smoking, some detailed mention of self harm, suicidal thoughts, mentions of nausea, disordered eating, breakdowns, smoking, angst :(

Do NOT proceed if the triggers mentioned above upset you greatly. You have been warned.

I made a promise

To distance myself

Once Tyler dropped you off to the train station, you smiled and waved until you couldn’t see his truck anymore. You wanted to hang onto any last string of familiarity for as long as you could.

Especially since your life would change completely - for better or worse.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to calm down your trembling body.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

5 things you see - the train station, the crumbling yellow bricks, the jolly red-white-blue american flag, your luggage, and the people. Lots of people.

4 things you hear - the people, obviously, the cicadas crying, the heavy bell ringing inside, the honking of cars for you to get out of their way.

3 things you smell - the heat - somehow, the smell of smoke from cars, and the thick air.

2 things you feel - terrified. hurt.

1 thing you taste - bitterness.

Shaking your head, you take another deep breath. Eyes dead set on the mission in front of you, you marched into the train station, bought a ticket to Oklahoma City, and settled down inside.

But now was the hardest part; waiting. What made it harder was you didn’t want to think about anything that happened yesterday. So, putting your headphones on, you made a playlist with none of the songs that reminded you of Javi or any of the ones he recommended to you. Essentially, you just listened to 3 songs in total, over and over again, but the knowledge you knew what was coming next was comforting, something you couldn’t apply to your current situation.

Took a flight, through aurora skies

Honestly, I didn't think about

How we didn't say goodbye

Just see you very soon

You woke up when the train jolted to a stop - you had fallen asleep, waking up to hear the opening notes of some song you were listening to earlier. Looking out the window, you reached Oklahoma City. With a sigh of relief and trepidation, you got your bags and headed out of the station, hailed a taxi to the airport. Booking a last minute flight back home to LA, you made your way to the gate. Setting your bag down, you sat in a char near the huge windows. Deciding it wasn’t close enough, you sat on the little raised platform attached to the window and leaned your head against it like you saw so many children do.

The boarding call was announced, and everyone sat up groggily. It all went by pretty quickly. Standing in line, getting your boarding pass stamped and your passport checked, finding you seat, putting your bag away and sitting down. Taxi and take off was a blur; luckily you got a window seat, and stared out at the pink clouds, tinted by the setting sun, a peach tone.

Peachy, just like your favourite pie.

You groaned, covering your eyes and rubbing them as your mind started to think about Oklahoma. About Javi, and the last time he saw you. And the last thing he said to you. It wasn’t even a proper goodbye, but you couldn’t blame him because he didn’t know it was goodbye.

And honestly, neither did you.

But you made yourself a promise - to distance yourself.

Those last words of his echoed in your mind.

“I- Okay, alright. Take care, (Y/N)”

It hurts to be something

It's worse to be nothing with you

You half expected a text from Javi - it had been around 24 hours since you last saw him. Since you told him you had a ‘family emergency’ to take care of. Who wouldn’t expect a little ‘you doing okay?’ or ‘safe travels’ when someone saw you break down in the middle of a field, distressed as hell? Sure, you and Javi weren’t dating, sure you both drifted apart ever since Kate got closer with him instead, but were you two not even friends anymore?

Did you mean nothing to him?

This wasn’t the first time he ghosted you - after the EF5 tornado, he didn’t say a word to you. But it was understandable why - everyone was hurting, and maybe he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. In Oklahoma, the only times he’d talk to you is when you started a conversation, otherwise you could sit silently and he’d happily talk with Kate, leaving you be. It was never him starting anything.

And Kate. Did she figure out you liked Javi? Is that why she didn’t text you? Did she feel guilty? Part of you wanted her to feel guilty, but the other part of you didn’t want to be pitied. Part of you wanted to go back, but this - this was best for you right now. Nobody could tell you otherwise.

Instead, you got a text from Tyler.

‘hey there cowgirl - how you getting along?’

You chuckled - ‘cowgirl’ was probably the worst way to describe yourself. Instead, you typed down a response, your heart a little less heavy.

‘hey, Tyler. thanks for asking. means a lot’

He was typing, the three dots appearing on screen

‘of course. lemme know if you need anything at all okay? stay safe out there’

You sent him an affirmative text, thankful to actually have a friend who cared enough to check in on you, helping you out without questioning anything, having only known you for a week.

So I didn't call you

For sixteen long days

You found comfort in some form of familiarity in your life; back home in LA, everything looked duller, more still. Like the whole world knew about your heartbreak and was mourning, or mocking you. You tried to plunge into work, distracting yourself but sometimes, you’d just stare at your work, screen or paper, and just zone out. Your was brain still trying to process everything, and you were losing a lot over it - sleep, peace, overall joy, your will to wake up, and more.

It felt like after the EF5 tornado but worse because you knew somewhere in Oklahoma, Kate was with Javi, both of them happier than ever. It felt worse because you could never have him anymore. He was gone. And someone got to see him every day, sometimes wake up next to him, sometimes stay up all night with him. You felt like you were gonna be sick.

For a fortnight, all you could eat was cheese, bread, and grapes. It was the only thing you could keep down.

It was so hard not to text Javi. After you had just left, it’s like you were isolated for 5 years, given a taste of him, then forcing yourself to stay away. It was something you chose to do, not something you were forced to live with.

But you won’t call him. No matter how long the days felt they were dragging by.

And I should get a cigarette

For so much restraint

Walking by a drugstore to entertain yourself, you entered the establishment with an electronic ding notifying your presence. Strolling through the ailes, you picked up Sourhead Extremes (so in case you wanted to call Javi, you’d have to go through a gustatory agony first) and some nail polish, just to look pretty. Walking to the cashier, you mindlessly threw in a pack of cigarettes onto the counter, before putting them back in a jerky motion.

“What the hell…” you murmured to yourself, ashamed of what you were about to do. Buy cigarettes - to smoke.

Walking out of the store briskly, you speed-walked home; chiding yourself for almost ‘rewarding’ your no contact mission by smoking, you realized how truly pathetic you were.

“God, what is wrong with me…” you muttered, keeping your head down, watching the wet streets reflect the light of the sun and your dark sorrow.

No matter how long I resist temptation

I will always lose,

Eventually you did buy the cigarettes. You went home, lounging in your bed, a pretty china plate acting like an ashtray for you. Legs up in the air, swinging occasionally, eyes half lidded from the light high, you felt the chalky smoke fill your lungs, watching it come out in little clouds of grey air.

You felt in control for the first time since leaving Oklahoma - the cigarette sitting pretty between your red tinted fingers and lips. You smiled softly, satisfied by finally scoring a small win. You didn’t tell Tyler that you smoked. He’d say it’s a horrible habit you should give up.

Obviously it was more of a lose - giving into an impulse, and now you were at risk of falling deeper into addiction. You weren’t in control, you never really were.

But why would you make yourself feel worse when you were on the literal brink of crumbling?

Although, you didn’t get addicted. After the high wore off, you felt disgusted, throwing out the pack of almost full cigarettes. You wouldn’t tell Tyler, of course.

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing with you

Two weeks went by, and though you pretended everything was okay, it really wasn’t. You didn’t know if you missed Javi or not, but you really didn’t want to.

You don’t know if you want to see the face you loved so much, the face that lights up when he sees Kate, the face that Kate holds, kisses, caresses.. the face that she admires alongside you.

You wanted to get over him, you really did, but you cared so much about him. You didn’t want to stop caring about him, when loving him felt so… lovely.

But it hurt so much.

You barely got any sleep this past fortnight. Having a reverie about the man who daydreamed about another woman. The things you wished he did to you, he did to Kate. He was hers. So assured, so confident. No doubt in that.

For a fortnight, there you were, stripped of any text backs from him.

You were starting to think you just wanted his attention, which you dont know if you wanted anymore, knowing his attention belonged to Kate. Why would you care so much about him texting you?

But then again, weren’t you two friends?

I’ve done the math

There’s no solution

We’ll never last

Why can’t I let go of this?

Right now, you, broken, needed comfort. May it be fake hope again. Nobody was there to stop you anyway, so in your free time, you started to think of the ways Kate and Javi would have problems with each other.

‘She’s too arrogant sometimes, and he’s really down to earth’

‘She can’t communicate her feelings!’

‘Kate’s one to settle, Javi isn’t’

Of course, you knew it was wrong. Of course it was a bitchy thing to think. But who were you to care right now?

You were hurt, and you needed to feel better to even try and start to get a grip on reality. you didn’t want to rip of the band aid yet.

Not yet.

Even worse, your mind started thinking of ways you and Javi could get together; Kate could leave him in the dark again, she could get into a fight with him…

But nothing made sense - she wouldn’t leave when she looked at him that way… and any fights would be cleared quickly with Javi’s forgiving nature.

He would do anything for her.

All in all, you realized how shitty you were being, and texted Tyler, saying you couldn’t hide from Javi - couldn’t hide from the pain that haunted you. The bright lights of LA looked dull. The sun felt like a false light.

Your world was falling apart, how could the sun be shining when your world was falling apart?

‘Just walk around. Wear something that makes you feel good. Grab some good lunch downtown. Spoil yourself. Act like a damn tourist, I don’t care. Just do anything that reminds you that there’s more to life than Javi’ he wrote.

So I broke my promise

I called you last night

I shouldn’t have, I wouldn’t have

If it weren’t for the sight of a boy who

Looked just like you standing out on Melrose Avenue…

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing, with you.

Three days later, you sat on the roof of a building. The sun was setting, you looked at the streets below. People were walking - their dogs, their toddlers, and whatnot.

You were so disappointed with yourself. Closing your eyes, you thought back to everything that happened yesterday.

Following Tyler’s advice, you woke up ready to face the day.

Waking up bright and early, you went for a run, saw some pretty things on the way. You found it insane how easy it was to overlook the small things in life.

Coming home, you made breakfast; oatmeal with bananas, almond butter and chocolate chips. You savoured every bite with a smile.

You hopped into the shower, using your favourite body wash. Putting on an outfit, doing your hair and makeup, slipping on your shoes, you left the house, ready to explore the city…

All was going well until sunset.

—

You were walking along the streets of LA, acting like you’d never seen anything like it before. A coffee in hand, you walked confidently down the path, turning a corner to browse a bookstore on Melrose Avenue, when someone caught your eye.

A boy, waiting for the light signal to turn green, who looked exactly like Javi.

You froze.

Suddenly, you didn’t want coffee any more. You didn’t want anything right now but to go home.

—

You rushed home, trying so hard to control your breathing, then stumbling desperately to your room. As soon as your face crashed against the pillows, the soft, gentle fabric a perfect medium to absorb the tears now flowing down your face. You sobbed, curled into a still-bedazzled ball on your bed, hugging yourself, contracting into a fibonacci.

Reaching for your purse, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. Through the wet and blurry lens of your tears, you scrolled into the alphabet until you reached the ‘J’ section. The first name was Javi.

Pressing on his name, then the ‘call’ button, you held it to your ear, taking shuddering breaths as you tried calming yourself down. The your phone cooed like a pigeon, signalling his phone, somewhere in Oklahoma, was ringing.

You were clean. Clean for a little over 2 weeks. Clean from his voice ringing in your ears, new words exchanged and whatnot.

But as you held your phone in your hand, crying, watching it reach Javi’s phone, waiting for him to answer, it all felt like a relapse.

Like the feeling of the cool blade on your skin, slicing through, leaving an angry red river in its wake.

The sick, high feeling you get from it - the ecstasy, watching you destroy yourself, finding beauty in the rubble.

Some part of you, the logical part of you was screaming to press the red button. To leave Javi alone. It wasn’t fair for you to reach out first, right? Why would you make a fool out of yourself by calling him? You’re not that desperate for him, are you?

But the hurt, emotional, desperate part of you didn’t, daring him to answer. Just to remind him of your existence. Just this once.

Still fighting the internal battle, you delved deeper into why he didn’t call you yet.

Did Kate tell him everything? Did she finally find out? Did she realize at all about how hurt you were?

The anger only just started to hit you, claiming your brain as a new population to be corrupted, a new host for the parasite, a new fruit to rot.

You were mad. You didn’t know at who. But you decided you were mad at Kate. For dating him. You knew it was wrong to be mad, because you had no claim over Javi, but you were too deep into your anger to actually think of a better way to cope. Suddenly, you were so mad at Kate. So, so mad. Part of you wanted to tear your house down, scream like a mad woman, but you didn’t. Your dwindling self control kept you in check.

Then came the sadness. You were so mad at Kate, but she was so happy right now. She didn’t care or know how your felt right now. how hurt you felt right now. She had Javi. Her Javi. And they were both happy - oh so happy, oh so blissfully unaware of how you felt right now.

They were happy - they were perfectly fine without you. Because they didn’t need you as a friend, not like they did in college - maybe they didn’t back then either, because they had each other. That’s all they needed. Each other was all they needed.

You were so deep into the crevices of your mind, drowning in both pain and relief, you almost didn’t hear your name drenched in Javi’s voice coming from the speaker.

‘(Y/N)?’

—

follow + stay tuned for part three!!

[13a07s]

You Deserve Better

(Asahi Azumane)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to azuriota]

Requested by: Yours Truly

Word Count: 3,561

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Mental Health

Anxiety

Mental Breakdown

———————————————————————

     The teddy bear energy that radiates off my boyfriend filters into my club room before the sight of the man is present. The other members of the band can sense it too, soft snickers being sent my way, a few soft teases mixed in.

     "Honey, are you in here?" Asahi's voice quickly joins the joking, a soft knock on the club room door ringing out.

     "Hey," I greet, sending him a reassuring smile. Some of the anxiety melts from his face, his smile cementing a bit more. "How was practice?" I ask, quickly - but carefully - putting my things into my cubby.

     "Tiring," Asahi answers, his focus on slowly working his way into the room, making sure not to bump into or break any of the instruments or parts littered around the room. "Noya tried his rolling thunder move again which used to not be a big deal but this one time - "

     "This one time, at band practice." The volume of the room explodes, every member piping up with the well-known quote.

     Asahi nervously laughs, awkwardly standing behind me. "I don't know what that means."

     "It's a quote from American Pie," I fill in the gaps for him, settling on the carpeted floor so I can pull my band shoes off and slip my day-to-day shoes on. "Anyway, rolling thunder is a big deal now, why?"

     "He... uh... tripped Tanaka and Coach band the move for a while," he finishes his statement, nervous hands toying with my hair before he scares himself into stopping the soft touches.

     Once my shoes are on, I jump onto my feet, tugging my school bag out of its place before turning around. "Ready?" I ask, situating the strap comfortably on myself.

"Ya," he murmurs, eyeing me for a second before his head snaps away, a soft pink slithering across his cheeks.

I smile to myself, enjoying Asahi's easiness to embarrassment as I make my way out of the room, saying goodbye and waving to a few of the other members. He follows after me, trudging around like a shy Great Dane, worried about knocking something over with its wagging tail.

He eases up when we get outside of the club room, an audible sigh leaving him as his shoulders relax. Once I'm sure Asahi is fully relaxed - or at least as relaxed as his nerves will ever allow - I slide my hand around his arm, my fingertips clinging to his bicep. "You have a game tomorrow, right?" I ask, glancing up at him before I lead us forward.

"Ya, well, a practice match," he stumbles out, happily letting me take the lead as I direct us down the stairs and away from the club rooms.

"That's like a 'fake' game, right? No actual reward for winning? Just some in-game practice?"

"Ya," he sighs, voice a bit airy as he trudges along beside me. I don't have to glance to know what his face looks like. His cheeks are pink, like always, eyes soft and pretty much stamped with hearts as he stares at me.

Asahi is an easy man to love. It doesn't take much to make him happy. Get along with his friends, take an interest in volleyball and his fashion knowledge, and listen when he talks. That's the whole groundwork for making him feel cared for. His anxiety is a harder part to care for, but even that can be pretty easy. For the most part, he just needs reassurance.

"Um... since tomorrow is Saturday and it's against Nekoma I probably won't be available most of the day," he rushes out, his free arm jerking to the side so he can lay his hand on top of mine.

"That's alright. Practice is important," I tell him, knocking my head back so I can look up at him. I squeeze his arm as I send him a smile, hoping it'll help calm down any thoughts starting to brew in his mind. "Plus we have a band meeting tomorrow to discuss the upcoming school club presentations. I'll pop my head into the gym to say hello and see a few of your spikes. Maybe I'll even get spoiled and get to see you serve."

That does the trick, Asahi's muscles relaxing again under my soft reassurance. "I don't know if I'll play as good with you watching."

"I went to all your official games last year and you played fine," I remind him, leading the two of us out of the school gates and off school property.

"Ya, you did," he mutters, a weary smile on his face as his hand messes with the bun his hair is tied in. "Anyway, I just brought it up 'cause... well... um... since I'll busy most of tomorrow and usually we... you know... Saturdays are kind of our day to spend... together. I was just... I want to - "

"Asahi?" I interpret, my footsteps falling to a stop, his quickly ending too.

"Ya, Hon?" He mutters, looking down at me, a bit of curiosity coating his face. It's nice to see something other than worry or anxiety painting his features.

I turn to the side, my head tilted and the side of my body pressed into his arm so I can look up at Asahi better. "Since you're going to be busy all day tomorrow, could we get dinner tonight instead?"

I can see my question working its way into his thoughts, a slow smile growing on his lips as he processes my words. "Of course, I'd like that," he mutters, pink quickly joining the huge grin on his face.

I jump up to my tippy toes, plopping a kiss on his cheek before I settle flat on my feet again. An excited peep spills from him, one that I don't acknowledge so he doesn't get self-conscious about it. Instead, I start our footsteps again, making our way down the street, toward the neighborhood we live in.

Our walk is quiet and soothing for a few moments. The sun setting, the soft final chirps of the birds, the slow melting of the stars into the sky. Even the long shadows starting to form on the road bring a different kind of comfortable beauty.

"Honey?" Asahi calls, pulling my attention away from the soft admiration I was giving our walk. I let out a hum, once again tilting my head back to look up at him. "I don't think there's anything open this late. I'm sorry."

"The Sakanoshita Market should be open, right?"

The smile that's always on his face drops away, a soft frown replacing his pearly grin. "I'm not taking you to a convenience store for dinner, Hon."

"Why not? As long as we get to eat together, I don't care where we go to dinner. Sakanoshita is fine, it's open, and it's on the way home. Seems perfect to me," I mutter, shrugging my shoulders once I'm done talking.

A big part of Asahi's anxieties surrounding our relationship is his insecurities and worries I'm going to leave. The biggest root of that issue is money. He's always worried he's not living up to or offering enough of the glamour he believes a boyfriend should offer his girlfriend. No matter how many times I tell him I don't care and that material love is something I don't need, it never seems to sink in.

     He sucks in his cheek, nibbling on it as he thinks my statement over. "You deserve better than Sakanoshita," Asahi whispers, looking anywhere but me.

"They have the best rice balls I've ever had. I'm excited to have them for dinner," I try to soothe, leaning against the ace as we walk. Silence falls between us again, Asahi buried in his thoughts, and me buried away too, thinking of ways to make him feel better.

Why can't he see I'm happy with anything as long as it's the two of us together? We could get cheap ramen cups and heat them in the microwave at one of the houses and I'd be happy because we're eating together. I wish he could see that. I wish he'd believe me when I tell him that.

It's not long until the hill leading down to the Sakanoshita Market comes into view. Instinctually, Asahi shakes my hold off his arm before slithering it around my back, clinging to my hip so I don't stumble on the decline and fall.

My hand slides across his back too, crawling across the material of his white practice shirt. My fingers ball up some of the material, holding onto it instead of the stretch waistband of his shorts. "You deserve better than Sakanoshita," Asahi repeats, his grip tightening before it evens out again.

     "Sakanoshita is perfect, just like you're perfect," I mutter back, laying my head against him.

      "I'm glad you think so," he sighs, pulling away from me when we get to the bottom of the hill. Asahi is too deep in his self-doubt for me to drag him out of it. I decide to leave it be, wanting to fill our quick dinner with admiration before we're apart for the weekend. Sometimes showering him in love is enough to get his mind off its negative track; hopefully, this is one of those times.

     His body stiffens the closer we get to the store's door, but he still holds it open for me, letting me walk in first. "Thank you," I mutter, smiling at him as I walk past.

     "You deserve so much better," he whispers under his breath, but I still pick up on it. I leave it be, focusing on the way Asahi's hand settles on the small of my back, leading me around his coach's shop. Why can't he see that these little moments are all I need? I wish he could see himself through my eyes.

                      ————————————

     Click. Click. Click.

     The repeated sound pulls my droopy eyes open, making me fight off the sleep trying to envelop my body. 

     Click. Click. Click.

     The sound comes again, lulling my body into rolling over, feet to the freezing floorboards as I push myself into a stand. My hands jump to my face, rubbing my eyes as I make my way over to the window.

     Click. Click. Click.

     My eyes catch on the hand shifting in front of my window, a silver class ring wrapped around one of the fingers. I shake my head, a smile already forming on my face as I make my way to the window. As the hand goes to click against the window again, I slide it open. "Asahi?" I whisper, sticking my head out of the opening.

"Hey, Honey," his airy greeting is whispered back. Asahi has climbed up and is now clinging to the trellis built across the side of the house. His face is ghostly white, nerves and his fear of heights very evident on his face. "I would appreciate an offer to come in now, please."

"Climb on through," I softly giggle, backing away from the window.

He quickly takes my offer, finishing the climb up the trellis before struggling to squeeze through my window. By the time Asahi does manage to wiggle his way into my room, his cheeks are red instead of the sickly white they were before. "That climb never gets easier," he mutters, wiping his hands across his clothes.

"You know, if you would text me and ask to sneak in instead of just showing up you'd be able to use the door," I tease, eagerly moving forward to wrap my arms around his waist. Instantly - like always - my head rests against his chest, enjoying the warmth spilling off of my boyfriend despite the chilly night and the fact that he just spent the past ten minutes outside.

"I did text you," Asahi peeps out, his strong arms wrapping around me as well, one of his big hands rubbing across my back as the other rests against my waist. "You didn't answer so I figured you were asleep but I wanted to see you so I took my chances on knocking on your window and I probably shouldn't have done that but - "

"- but it worked out so everything is fine," I interpret, rubbing my nose against his chest.

     Asahi lets out a deep exhale, his body loosening with the sigh. Both his hands start rubbing across my back, warming it up as the big ball of worry lowers to rest his cheek on top of my head. "You're wearing my shirt," he mutters, balling up the material for a second before he goes back to softly massaging me.

     "I wear it to bed, you know that," I tease, tilting my head so my chin is resting against his chest instead of my face.

     "Well, I just..." his cheeks are quickly heating up, his deep brown eyes jumping between my face and the shirt hanging on my body. "I know you wear it when you spend the night. I just... I didn't think... you wore it any other time."

     "I wear it every night. Speaking of which, it doesn't smell like you anymore so I'll need another one," I babble, pulling out of our embrace. My hand falls to wrap around Asahi's wrist, tugging him along after me as I head back to my bed.

     "Okay," he murmurs lightly, a bit airy from the realization. He happily follows after me, standing next to the bed as I sit on the edge of it. Once I'm settled, I tug the shirt I'm wearing off, dropping it to the floor once I'm free from it. "Honey. Darling. Um... I... I'm not... feeling that... right now," he stumbles over his words, his blush darkening even more as he flickers between looking at me and the ceiling. "Not that I don't find you attractive or that I don't want you in that way. I just - "

     "I want your shirt," I mutter, leaning forward to tap a finger against his chest.

     "Oh," he breathes out, some of the heat on his face melting away as a soft smile replaces his nervousness. "I do think you're pretty, by the way," Asahi's ramble starts again, his hands falling to tug his shirt up. "And you are very... sexually attractive to me but... um... I just... I want to just lay with you. You know, since I don't... I don't get to do that tomorrow."

"Asahi," I coo, taking the shirt he's holding out to me. "I wanted your shirt and I want to lay with you too. I'm not going to feel less attractive because you're not horny. It's okay," I continue to coo, tugging his shirt on. Once I'm clothed, I crawl further into my bed, lying down when I'm comfortable again. "Come here," I mutter, patting the spot next to me.

     He almost shoots forward, quickly kicking his shoes off as he climbs into the bed with me. Instead of lying next to me, Asahi situates himself on top of me. His head is on my stomach, an arm tucked under my left thigh, and resting my knee on his shoulder, with the rest of him lying on top of my other leg, and his free arm wrapped around my hips. Instantly he relaxes against me, taking a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

     I feel folded like a pretzel and I know I won't be able to sleep in a position like this. I don't mind though since it'll help Asahi rest, since it'll help his mind quiet down. My hands fall to his hair, carefully taking out the elastic band keeping the strands trapped in the bun he usually wears.

My fingers slide through the shaded brown color of his hair, carefully working out the knots it's made throughout the day. I start softly humming too, hoping to fill his mind before negative thoughts have the chance to.

"You deserve better," Asahi mutters against my stomach, tightening his arms around me. My knee pops from the movement, making his arms go limp and his lips press desperate apologetic kisses into my belly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he rushes out between spilled kisses.

"You're fine," I coo, shifting my legs a bit to counter the uncomfortable cracking that just happened. "You didn't hurt me and I was more than happy with Sakanoshita."

     "I'm not just talking about Sakanoshita," Asahi whispers, his hand shifting down from my thigh to my knee, gently massaging it. "You deserve better than me, Hon."

     My hands tighten on his hair, forcing his head to lift and tip backward. "Baby," I call, my tone a bit harsher than usual. "I love you. I'm with you. I want you. That makes you perfect."

     His eyes slide across my face before tumbling off of it, looking anywhere else that he can. "You deserve someone who can believe that, Honey. Someone that can buy you the world. Someone that's not always freaking out," Asahi mumbles, blinking quickly to try and stop his forming tears from spilling. It doesn't work, a few tear drops falling from his eyes.

     Quickly, my hands fall from his hair, cupping his cheeks to brush away his tears. "Baby," I hum, leaning forward to replace my fingertips with my lips. "It's okay that you don't always believe it. You can't help your mental illness. I'll tell you you're perfect a hundred times if that's what it takes to make your anxiety believe it, even if it's only for a second. I don't need you to buy me the world, I just need you to be a part of my world. As long as you tell me about your freakouts, I don't mind them either, okay?"

     "Okay," he murmurs, shifting his eyes back to my face. Asahi's face is pink again, this time because of his tears and not because of embarrassment. My reassuring has made him cry more, giving me fresh tears to kiss away. "I'm sorry, Hon. I wish... I just... I'm sorry that I'm like this."

     My lips tumble over his nose, littering pecked kisses across his skin. "You're perfect, just the way you are. I love you, Asahi. Every part of you. Good and bad."

     "I love you too, but you deserve better. So much better," he babbles, dipping his head to follow after my lips. "I'm sorry. You deserve a better man than me."

     "You're perfect, baby. You're just having a bad mental day and that's okay. I'm not going anywhere."

     "I know," he sighs, some of the tension leaving his body again. "You're so... good to me. So patient, so calm, so understanding. I don't deserve you. You don't deserve me. You deserve a guy better than me."

     I shake my head, letting my nose rub against his cheek as I disagree. "You are who I want. Isn't that what you're always worried about? Not being able to give me what I want? Well, I want you, so give me you." A soft sound leaves Asahi's lips, the majority of the sound still stuck in his chest. "Can you do that for me?"

"Of course," he rushes out, voice a bit airy from shock and probably a tad of disbelief. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," I mutter, tipping his head up so I can brush my lips against his. Asahi melts into the kiss, lips chapped but needily pressed against mine. His arms tighten around me again, and luckily, nothing creeks or cracks this time around. "You need to sleep baby," I whisper when we pull apart, staying close enough that our lips still brush against one another. "Your anxiety spikes when you're tired, it'll help."

When I lean back, Asahi melts into me again, resting his full weight against me as his muscles relax. "I don't deserve you," he hiccups into my stomach, pressing his head into me to try and bury himself further.

"Maybe not, but I want you," I softly sigh, twirling his hair around my fingertips again, not letting myself relax as well. I know we haven't beaten his anxiety for the night, not yet. "There's nothing else I want. All I want is you."

I can feel the hiccup he has, his chest bouncing against my leg as fresh tears coat the shirt I stole off his back, but I leave it be. I let my beautifully strong yet fragile man work his way out of his anxiety and worry. The whole time I stay put, twirling his hair, rubbing his back, massaging his shoulders, and whispering about all my love and admiration for him.

"You deserve better," he finally whispers, head turning to the side and voice raspy from crying. There's a hint of exhaustion buried in his raspy tone, the heaviness of his eyelids cutting off my view of Asahi's eyes. "I don't deserve you," he adds, the words barely stumbling out because of how quickly his need for sleep is taking over.

"You deserve everything you want," I coo, sliding a few loose strands out of his face before my fingers focus on drying his cheeks. "I'm worried I'm the one that doesn't deserve you." I don't get an answer, Asahi's too far gone in the cloudiness of sleep, but I don't mind. Unlike him, voicing my worries helps to loosen them. "You deserve better than me, baby."

[lovelybucky1]

Neil trying to be cool to get the attention of a client (disinterested in him) being totally cringe and geeky with his movie recommendations

im a filmbro just like neil so i really resonate with this

my inbox is open for requests!

warnings: one mention of sexual content, mild mentions of violence, neil being a geek with zero rizz

masterlist

It’s not often hot people walk into Gumshoe Video. There’s the regulars, the families, the loser film bros who are there at least four times a week, the teens who try to rent pornos, and old people looking for the classics.

When you walked in, Neil almost dropped his fast food cup filled with Dr. Pepper. You’re exactly his type, and he pushed the other employees out of the way so he could be the one to help you.

“Hi, I’m Neil. How can I be of service?” he greets you, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. You look down at his name tag and note that it says owner underneath his name.

“I don’t need any help, thanks,” you smile politely and continue walking. You aren’t trying to be rude, but you had a long day at work and this puppy dog of an employee is only going to get on your nerves.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” he asks, following you down the aisle.

You sigh. “No, just something to watch.”

“We have a huge selection. What’s your favorite genre?”

You resign yourself to the fact that this man is going to be up your ass until you leave the store.

“I don’t know. Action? Comedy?”

“Well, right over here we have Fast and Furious.” You wrinkle your nose. “We also have The Dark Knight.”

“Uh, no thanks. The villains in those movies are always so cheesy.”

Neil hums and scans the shelves, looking at the collection of videos for rent. “If you want a comedy we have Daddy Daycare, Superbad, American Pie…”

“I think I’ll just look around myself-”

“Or if you want something classic, we have Citizen Kane, Casablaca, The Godfather, Apocalypse Now-”

“Look, Neil,” you sigh. “I appreciate the suggestions but I really don’t need any help.”

Feeling rejected but not letting it show, Neil nods and steps away. “If you need anything, I’ll be behind the counter.”

You nod and watch him walk away before turning to browse the movie selection by yourself. It takes you a while to find anything that you were interested in, but you settled on Friday the 13th. It’s not what you’d usually go for, but your life needs a little excitement here and there.

From across the store, you could hear the other employees ridiculing Neil for “striking out”, though you’d have to argue that he never even got up to bat.

When you walk up to the counter to rent the movie, no one is to be found. You look around and find a bell on the counter labeled ring for assistance. You hit the button and the bell rings, and immediately following the chime is a thud and a curse. You peak over the counter to see Neil crouched underneath it, rubbing the top of his head.

He stands up and looks at you, putting on a charming smile like he didn’t just embarrass himself.

“All set?” he asks.

“Yep,” you reply shortly, handing him the box.

“Friday the 13th,” he reads. “That’s a good one. You didn’t tell me you’re into horror.”

“I’m not really. Just wanted a change,” you reply, figuring if you engage in his small talk, he’ll let you off the hook sooner.

“Did you know this was filmed at a real summer camp in New Jersey?” You shake your head. “It’s still operational, actually. The only set piece they had to build was the bathroom; everything else was already there.”

“That’s really interesting,” you smile, lying.

Unfortunately that was the wrong thing to say, because it made him perk up. “If you think that’s interesting, wait until you hear this…” He ducks under the counter again and comes back up with another movie in hand. “Scream was based on a series of real murders in the 90s. Ghostface was based of the Gainesville Ripper who killed five students in Florida. He wore a black ski mask, which was the inspiration for the movie.”

Neil must have noticed your concerned face and stopped.

“Uh, sorry. I guess giving a stranger facts about a serial killer is kind of weird,” he chuckles.

He scans your movie, swipes your card and prints out your receipt. Before he handed it to you, he scribbled something at the bottom.

“Thank you for renting from Gumshoe Video. Have a nice day,” he smiles.

You give him a polite smile back and on the way out of the door, you look down at the paper in your hand. He wrote what looks to be a phone number, but his handwriting is too messy for you to make out the digits.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Another Miraculous Crossover Nobody Wanted (DCxML)

In the midst of so many Batfamily/Miraculous crossovers, the thing I feel so many people forget is that the Waynes are...well...themselves.

Sure, they're awesome vigilantes. Trained in martial arts and with great mental fortitude to help them against the likes of Scarecrow's fear gas, Joker's venom, and Mad Hatter's manipulations.

...the problem is that Hawk Moth is a whole different ballgame.

He doesn't target their fears or dreams. He targets ANYTHING. Like petty annoyances. Frustrations. Sleep deprivation. Obsessions. Things the Batfamily generally try to ignore on a regular basis.

If he can akumatize and reakumatize the same man over his love of pigeons and people who feel they've been wronged over silly reasons, there's SO MUCH that could come from the complete dysfunction/emotional constipation that is the Wayne family. Remember, ANY frustration or annoyance or upset counts. 

Meaning Ladybug and Chat will be having their hands full with the Waynes until they leave.

And given that Hawk Moth comes up with the silliest costumes and powers...

...the others would never let them live it down.

...

It was a beautiful day in Paris. And an absolutely wonderful vacation to the City of Love, where everything was peaceful and nothing was wrong.

Dick stood at the window looking out over the city.

Tim was on his computer doing some reports. Possibly Wayne Enterprises work, but more likely mission work.

Damien had apparently gotten tired of grumbling and was focused on sharpening his sword—which Bruce really shouldn’t have let him bring. But given the situation, he couldn’t argue against letting Damien have something that would help him stay calm.

Cass had found a magazine to occupy her time, though she seemed somewhat confused as to the male teen model that kept appearing in nearly every line.

And Jason…

…he was grinning. And watching Bruce with such anticipation, looking downright hopeful as he waited. Not helping was that he was holding what appeared to be a brand new camera, fully prepared to start recording.

Bruce knew why.

But he would not give him the satisfaction.

Because nothing was going to happen.

Absolutely nothing.

Bruce twitched.

SNAP!

And his pen cracked from the sheer amount of pressure he was putting on it. Which was admittedly an annoyance, but wasn’t that big of a deal…

…if it wasn’t the 15th pen he’d broken in the past three hours.

It was fine though.

Nothing was wrong.

He was calm.

Calm.

Calm.

A muffled voice could be heard from outside despite the room being on the seventh floor of a building. Which of course was a coincidence and not because someone was actually right outside the room….and the building.

And perhaps if Bruce tried really hard, he could convince himself was just someone singing a line out of “American Pie” and not someone talking about butterflies.

No.

Because there were no butterflies outside. Because he was fine!

Not the slightest bit upset!

At. All.

“That’s thirty-three…” Dick counted.

…

…

…

…Dammit.

Bruce sighed.

“Did she come back to the roof?”

“Actually, she never left.” Tim confirmed, not even looking up from his computer. “She stopped leaving after the last incident and has just been standing there for the past couple hours now, catching them as they come.”

A long pause.

“How…?”

“Her partner has been bringing her water and snacks. And keeping watch whenever she has to leave to hibernate or use the little bug’s room.”

Bruce groaned.

Why couldn’t it be a villain? Or a fan or stalker? He could deal with those. He dealt with them all the time.

It was the well intentioned young superheroes that he had a harder time dealing with. The ones that wanted to help but were misguided in not understanding that their help wasn’t necessary.

“Gotcha!”

“Thirty-four.” Dick droned.

…no matter how many magical butterflies implied otherwise.

“Maybe we should do what the nice Ladybug hero asked and finish up our business in Paris?” Tim suggested.

“I refuse!” Damien shouted, jumping to his feet. “This villain has made a mockery of us and it must not be allowed to stand! I will not leave until he has been caught and my sword has tasted his blood!”

“Damien, we don’t kill, remember?”

“I wouldn’t kill him.” Damien said, looking away with a pout. “Just…dismember him a bit.” He frowned, consideringly. “Maybe cut off his arms. He can’t continue villainy then, right?”

Tim sighed.

“So that’s a no on going home early then.”

They heard a noise from the roof.

“Is she leaving?” Bruce asked, trying to hide how hopeful he was.

“Nope. It’s her catboyfriend back again.” Dick replied, blithely.

Bruce sighed.

“Do you think they’re dating?”

“Dick.” Bruce warned.

“Because the city seems to be really hamming up the romantic angle between the two and it’s kinda hard to not see.” Dick continued. 

“Dick.”

“Even if it is kinda weird that they’re essentially shipping teenagers.”

“Speaking from experience there, Dickie Boy?” Jason cut in, cheekily.

“Stop it. Both of you.” Bruce ordered. “The goal of coming to Paris was supposed to be to deal with the emotional terrorism from Hawk Moth.”

“A little hard with all your emotional constipation there, B.”

Jason smirked.

“Or should I say ‘Justice Man’?”

Bruce twitched.

[applepiesupreme]

American Apple Pie

Pairing: Low/Mid Honor Arthur Morgan and female OC.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Savigne Ricci is a temporary guest at the Van der Linde camp. Her path crosses with the enforcer of the gang, Arthur Morgan, and despite their differences, a relationship develops between them. Whole lot of smut and fluff, slow burn-ish.

AOC link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54945853/chapters/147208882

Chapter 25

The next morning she woke up with a massive hangover. Arthur was gone but he had left her the buckets of water to clean up. She crawled out of bed feeling like road kill, undressed, wiped herself and got dressed in clean clothes. The taste of whiskey was still in her mouth and she swore she would never touch it again. He walked in, a cup in each hand while she was doing her hair, and she immediately resented how magnificent he looked compared to herself.

“Here,” he said and put a steaming mug of coffee on the table. “Should help. Lemme change yer bandages.”

She finished with her hair, then sat across from him. He pointed for her to extend her left hand, so she did as she took a sip from the coffee and shuddered at the intensity of it and managed a “Jesus”. Pearson’s coffee could wake the dead.

“Think you can take a sick day?” he asked as he unwound the strip of cloth, watching her face, probably hoping that her mood last night could be attributed to the whiskey and she was her normal self again.

“No,” was her flat response.

She curiously inspected the angry gashes in her palm, swollen and tender today and watched him dab it with alcohol, then a tincture that made her sneeze.  

“Wanna do somethin’ after work then?” 

“No.”

 His eyes flicked up to her. She swallowed the bitter coffee and grimaced. 

“Been a while since we had a day together.”

“You were busy.”

“Ain’t busy now. Maybe we can go check out that second map location,” he drawled. “Ain’t very far.” It sparked her anger, being treated like a child to be won over with candy and trinkets. Offerings to go treasure hunting, to spend time apart from the gang, and especially the sudden chattiness - if she were in a better mood she would find his clumsy attempts at appeasement endearing; would consider them the desperate acts of a man who didn’t know how else to soothe a woman’s hurt. Given that she wasn’t in a gracious mood, they struck her as crude and manipulative.

“No.”

“We can-”

“No.”

He took a slow breath, focusing on the bandaging for a moment. “Savigne…” he said quietly. “You’re running again. Yer mad, so you’re running.”

A relationship where the ‘let me fix it’ guy meets the sprinter, what a joke, she thought.

This early in the morning, before her anger and her jealousy had a chance to ripen, it was hard to find fault with him and so much easier to find fault with herself. Arthur hadn’t made promises and then broken them, had he? He had given no assurances only to walk them back. Neither had he lied to her about who he was - an outlaw, a drifter, a temporary guest just passing through. All he was guilty of was building a tent and sharing a passage of time with her. Why should he be the bad man now because it had made her so happy? Why should he be the villain because she had become addicted to it and had started thinking, hoping, building this fantasy in her head? No, Arthur Morgan hadn’t led her on. She had done that all by herself.

In the end she was angry at him because reality didn’t match her dreams, and whose fault was that but the dreamer’s?

She pulled her hand back and took another sip from the sludge Pearson called coffee to match her bitter mood.

“Ya know,” he sighed, watching her. “I ain’t good with words. But for all the talkin’ you do, you don’ say much either.” He leaned on his elbows, eyes fixed on her. “Tell me what you want.”

I want impossible things, she thought. But what she said was “I want to go to work.”

He followed her to the horses, a quiet ball of pulsing frustration behind her back. Before she could tackle her saddle with her injured hand, he handed her his coffee to put it up himself.

Jack ran over and tangled up in her legs. She held the mug away so the hot liquid wouldn’t splatter on him.

“What are you doing up so early?” she chuckled.

Her face fell when she saw Abigail chase after him. 

“Morning,” the other woman said, giving Savigne a shy look. 

“Morning,” Savigne sighed and Arthur grunted in response.

“Jack here says we should go for a picnic to celebrate! What do you guys think?” She looked from Savigne to Arthur and back.

Savigne was startled by the absurdity of her ask. “Did you actually just ask that?” she managed, trying to be careful with her words since Jack was there.

Abigail winced and Arthur paused at her tone. “Didn’t mean nothing by it,” the other woman said carefully, caught off guard by her reaction.

Savigne gave her a glare before she turned to Arthur and slapped his mug into his hand. “Lucky for you, Arthur here has no gang duties and he’s been itching all morning to do something.” He flicked the spilled coffee off his hand and gave her an annoyed look as she swung herself up on the saddle. “I say you three should go. Have some fun after that ordeal.” 

“Yay!” Jack celebrated. “Where are we going, Uncle Arthur?” 

The look Arthur gave Abigail was so severe, Savigne marveled how the other woman didn’t go up in flames. His voice though was mild when he told Jack “Not today.”

“I meant together,” Abigail hastily said to Savigne. “We ain’t goin’ without you. Obviously.” 

“Why obviously?” Savigne asked coolly. There was an awkward pause. “Did you never picnic together?”

“We did!” Jack exclaimed. Savigne savagely enjoyed the red blotches blooming on Abigail’s porcelain skin.

“That was years ago,” Abigail mumbled.

“Well there you have it!” she drawled. “I’m going to be late, so don’t wait on me.” 

Arthur clenched his jaw and looked away as Jack danced with joy. She turned Cricket around and rode out. 

“Sorry,” Abigail whispered when she was gone. “Was trying to…” 

Arthur gave her a scalding glare. “Didn' ask for yer help, have I?” 

She hastily urged Jack to go play and replied after he ran off: “Didn’ know she was still mad,” a little defensive. “Thought ya made up.”

Arthur threw his coffee out with irritation. “Doubt you did any thinkin’ at all. A picnic, Abigail? God damn now!?”

She withered at the timbre of his voice that made some heads turn.

“Just want things to be like they was, is all.”

“That’s the thing, they ain’t gonna be,” he spat. “You gonna go to yer man from now on. Don’t stray to me for whatever ya need or ‘m gonna be pissed. Should ‘ave stepped down long ago.”

“Why?” she trailed him as he headed to Pearson’s cart.

“Cause it ain’t fair to Savigne and ain’t fair to John and you got even less sense than me if ya can’t see it.” 

“I came to you because he wasn’t there!” she protested. 

“He there now, ain’t he?” he said, throwing his mug at the pile of dirty dishes before he headed in the direction of his tent. “He been there a while, you just wanna do the easy thing. And I let you so I ain’t blameless, but this here is over.” 

“Think I haven’t tried?” she huffed, trying to keep up with his long stride.

“Try harder.”

“But…”

“Jack has a dad and it ain’t me.” He turned on his heels to give her an intense look and she shrank away from it a little, fisting her skirts. “I did right by you. Ya wanna do right by me, you’ll take your son and go have a picnic with John. And you won’ ask me for anythin’ again till I offer.”

“I don’t understand, what changed? We ain’t doin’ nothing, that was years ago!”

“What changed is Savigne ain’t fine with it.”

Her face scrunched and she opened her mouth but he was faster: “You be real careful what you say ‘bout my woman now, ya hear?” She swallowed her words at the warning in his tone. “‘She’s right. I was her, wouldn’t like it, either.” He looked away for a moment. “You know damn well it bothers John, too. Didn’ care cause I told myself he deserved it. That’s on me. But I draw the line at Savigne. You got a man, go put in the work.”

“Was only trying to be nice,” she stammered, visibly upset at his ire.

“Go be nice to John.” He stopped and gave her an icy glare. “Listen here, woman, I ain’t joking. You come to me again, ya gonna see a side of me you wish you didn’,” he spat and walked on, leaving her standing half way. 

Chef Ecco found her struggling to put on a glove over her bandages and said he wants to talk to her in his office. Her stomach flipped. She had already pushed the envelope by taking time off when Arthur had been injured and in light of that, her current injury was dangerous for her attendance. She followed him to his small room with heavy steps, thinking how she could convince him that she can work, injured or not.

"Come in Savigne," he amicably herded her in and she stood in the middle of the small room, heart in mouth. His office looked like any business office - more like a place Mr. Dunham would work in than a chef's room. It was crammed full of files and folders and paperwork and the only indication that this was the work space of a chef were the cookbooks lining the walls. It shouldn't surprise her - at this point in his career Chef Ecco was more a businessman than he was a cook. 

"I can work," she said quickly. "It's not that bad, really."

He gave her a crooked smile. "I like how hardworking you are. But the safety of my cooks is my job, not yours."

"Of course," she breathed.

There was a moment of silence between them. "You like working here?" he said suddenly, leaning against his table and crossing his arms. 

"I love it! I'm learning a lot."

He nodded in approval. "Glad to hear it. I think you are one of the most promising cooks I've had in years." He smiled at the bewilderment in her face. "I mean it," he chuckled. 

"Thank you, chef," she said, not knowing what else to say to such a compliment. 

Another moment of hush and when he spoke next, his voice was mild but there was a timbre of command and seriousness in it she wasn't expecting: "Show me your hand."

She hesitated for a split second, but then extended her left hand. He bounced off the table and came closer and grasped it gently to turn up her palm. "How did this happen?" he mumbled, fingers gliding over the same bandages that Arthur's had hours before. 

"I...a glass shattered under my hand."

"Did it hurt?" he asked, standing too close to her. He's Italian, she thought, they do that.

"Hurts more now than it did then," she replied. Then added: "Which is not much! I can wo-"

The thumb that pressed on her wound sent a flash of pain through her so bright, that it flared up her vision and sizzled her hair roots. She jumped with surprise, instinctively trying to jerk her hand back and opened her mouth to cry out but the sharp shush shocked her into silence. He looked up at her then, his dark eyes intense and calculating and she froze under that look as her mind went blank. 

"Does it hurt when I do this?" he whispered casually and pressed even harder. Savigne bit her tongue, unable to look away and unable to move. The pain was more than she expected, more than she had experienced since she had cut it and the intensity of it threw her off. 

"Yes," she heard herself whisper, her eyes locked to his, spellbound. 

"I see," he mumbled, eyes crawling over her face with something she couldn't name because it was too out of place, too absurd. She took a shuddering breath and tried to retrieve her hand again but his grip was firmer than it should be, so she just stood there like a deer cowering under the gaze of a predator. Distantly she felt the pressure on her palm increase and a tear roll over her cheek, but she couldn't divert her gaze. Time stood still. She could have been there, sizzling under his stare for a moment, a minute or ten minutes, it was impossible to tell. Her mind folded on itself defensively, trying to block out the pain but it was as overwhelming as an undercurrent that grabbed her legs and pulled her under water. She heard herself moan but it changed nothing in his expression.  

Then suddenly, jarringly, it was gone and so was that magnetic look that had held her with iron manacles. He turned away and walked around his desk to sit down as she stood there, dumbfounded, panting hard and cradling her hand. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said and the change in his tone back to spry camaraderie gave her goosebumps. "You can have the rest of the week off."

She just stood there, unable to move for long moments, trying to understand what had just happened and failing. Her mind argued that it was important and alarming while at the same time it argued counter-points: it was nothing, he was just stronger than he realized. He didn't press too hard, she was just more sensitive than she had thought. He just wanted to see if she was faking it. He was just concerned and wanted to assess the severity of her wound. 

She came out of her stupor when he spoke. "Savigne?" Her head whipped to him. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes," she swallowed. 

"Did you hear what I said?" She nodded, not trusting her voice. "Then go. I will see you Monday."

Somehow the bored dismissal made the entire experience even more bizarre, more confusing. She didn't even realize she was leaving the office until she found herself in the street, blinking at the Saint Denis morning sun.

She stood there a long time, dazed and confused, inspecting her red palm. Next thing she knew, she was standing by a fountain, trying to wash the blood off the bandages. A part of her was furiously attempting to decipher what had happened while another, bigger one wanted to turn away from it. It's nothing. Let it go. It's nothing. You're tired. You're still half drunk. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. 

She let it go with wondrous efficiency and didn't think about it again until much later. 

Not sure what to do other than not wanting to return to camp, she went to a broker and inquired about cabins. The man, Mr. Bowers, was somewhat stupefied by her request.

“But Miss,” he said slowly. “A flat in the city would be much more appropriate for you.” His eyes, as expected, glided to her naked ring finger. “Safer.”

“I can’t afford that,” she said, trying to keep her irritation in check. “Also, I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“But you can’t get a loan from the bank without…do you have a brother? Father? Uncle?”

“You let me worry about the loan,” she quipped. Savigne had been saving since the day she started working, so she had the cash and didn’t need a loan for a humble enough cabin, but she wasn’t about to confess it to some stranger.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat. “That aside, I really have to insist that it’s not s-”

“Sir,” she spat, annoyed. All these men concerned with her safety were starting to get on her nerves. “With all due respect, you don’t know me. I could be the best gunslinger in the East for all you know.”

The astonishment on his face was comical. “True, Miss. But…I mean, are you?”

“You don’t want to find out, do you?” she growled. “My point being, concern for my safety isn’t your job. Do you have cabins that fit the bill or not?”

He sighed and got up. “I’m going to assume you’re just here to inquire. And that you have a gentlemen who can go over the options with you later.”

He produced a list of cabins for sale and a map of the surrounding Saint Denis area that marked them. She rudely swiped them from his hands. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she hissed and exited the office.

She went back to the harbor, a little worked up about the incident. Then forced herself to calm down and pulled out the list and the map, ruminating on her options. When the noon bells rang, she got up to walk to the steakhouse and hugged Luther. 

“I can see yer still at it,” he grumbled, pointing at her hand. 

She shrugged morosely. 

“Sit yer ass down. Ya ate yet?” 

She pulled up the stool and watched while he made her a steak. After it was done, he cut it into small pieces so she wouldn’t have to with her injured hand and shoved the plate her way. 

There was a long silence between them as she listlessly chewed on the steak. 

“So,” he rumbled finally. “Who done that?” giving her hand a side-eye. 

“I did,” she sniffed. “Drank whiskey and smashed the shot glass.” 

He tsked. “You know ya can’t drink liquor.” 

“I was angry,” she mumbled. With more heat: “Rightfully, I should add.” 

“Uh huh. What done happen now?” 

“Found out he had a fling with someone in camp,” she said through clenched teeth. 

“Really?”

“Well…an old fling.” 

He gave her a look. “How old?” 

She pursed her lips. “I don’t know…like maybe…” he stared at her, unblinking. “Six…” his eyebrow rose, urging her to continue. “…years?” He snorted and she immediately felt offended. “See, you don’t get it either!” 

“Woman, six years? Ya wasn’ even in Saint Denis then!” 

“It’s the hiding that irked me,” she mumbled which was only partially true. She wasn’t about to describe the graphic scenes playing out in her head between Arthur and Abigail to Luther. 

“No that ain’t it,” he scoffed. “Yer jealous…” 

“Please!” she huffed. 

“…cause ya think he might have a thing for her still.” 

“I mean he could.” 

“Then how come he didn’ settle with’er long ago?” 

“Could be a million reasons…” 

He gave her a dry look. “Ya tellin’ me Romeo and Juliet sat in them tents pinin’ for each other for six god damn years in the same camp? Gonna have to excuse my doubt here.” 

She sat, steaming with her inability to come up with a counter. “I don’t know why I come here,” she muttered finally. “Of course you would be on his side.”

“Ain’t on nobody’s side. Barely know the man from Adam.” He jabbed the fork in her direction. “But y’ain’t dumb, you know it makes no sense.”

“I feel pretty dumb right now, that’s for sure,” she muttered.

“Listen here,” he said softer. “Y’aint wrong, they should ‘ave told ya. It’s okay to be mad ‘bout that. Okay to be jealous, too…”

“I’m not jealous,” she objected but he talked on, unperturbed:

“…but the rest is in yer head. Cause yer doin’ yer thing again.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she muttered. “Maybe I’m just looking for excuses to end it.”

“Thought ya loved this guy?”

“I don’t want to be around the gang anymore. And I know he won’t leave.”

“He say so?”

She scraped the remnants of her steak around the plate.

“Lord,” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Forgive me. Cause 'm ‘bout to say some things.”

“Just don’t, Jesus!” she hastily intervened. “I’m going through some rough stuff as it is.” She held up her injured hand for an attempt at sympathy and he took a deep breath and thankfully decided otherwise.

“This Arthur must be some kind o’saint, man deserves a shrine.” He pointed his steak fork in her face. “Ask him. Then if he say no, yer welcome back here and we can badmouth him together. Otherwise, get outta my kitchen.”

“But…”

“Yer a grownass woman. Talk.”

"It's not that easy."

"Hell, you'd think ya can't string two words together. Woman, all you do is talk. Except when ya need to, that is."

She grumbled to herself and watched him turn steaks. "I went to a broker today," she said after a while. 

He gave her a side eye. "Thought ya said ya won' move till you can defend yerself." She pursed her lips and shifted on her stool. "You got better at shootin'?" he pushed.

"No," she admitted miserably. 

"'M about to change my mind on how dumb y'are."

She barreled on: "They talked up and down how I need a man for this and a man for that. Would you sign for me if they won't let me?"

His eyebrows rose. "So you can ask for things when you wanna."

She gave him a dry look. "It's a little different, don't you think?" He gave her a skeptical hum but no answer. "Well, would you?"

"Gotta think 'bout it," he sighed. 

"What's there to think about? I have the money."

"Gotta think how 'm gonna answer The Lord when you get yerself killed. More importantly, how 'm gonna answer this Arthur. The Lord forgives, but I ain't so sure 'bout yer man."

"You know how humiliating it is," she seethed, "that I'm sitting right here and nobody cares what I think?"

"You was as big and mean as him, I'd care plenty what you think."

"He's not going to come after you just because you signed a paper for me," she huffed.

"I would," was his simple response that surprised her. Luther, despite his size, was the most nonviolent man she knew, she didn’t know what to make of that statement.

“He know ya goin’ ‘round lookin’ for cabins?” was his sly question.

“What, I can’t go do stuff by myself anymore?”

“Ain’t what I asked, is it?”

“No," she admitted finally. His eyebrows did a thing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

"Knew a girl, popped a cork when her man went behind her back to meet some old flame,” he drawled. "Ran all the way to New York, even." He pointed his steak fork in her startled face. "Ya know, you kinda remind me of her."

“Excuse me? How are these things even remotely similar?” she sputtered.

He sighed and lighted a cigarette, sucking on it for a while. "He gonna be mad and hurt if he find out?"

"Probably," she mumbled. "But..."

"Then it's the same thing."

"That's bullsh-"

"Same thing. Ya knows it, why yer doin' it in secret."

She sat speechless for a few minutes, furiously trying to come up with talking points to defend herself when he went on: "Woman, when did ya become such a coward?"

"Hard to build confidence when everyone is constantly telling you how stupid you are," she muttered darkly.

"Cowards blame others," he said smoothly.

"I can't win," she sighed, deflated. She jumped off the stool just as Susan was coming down the steps, saw her, rolled her eyes and went back up the stairs. "I missed you too, Susan!" she called behind her back.

"Go talk to yer man," Luther said, waving his cigarette in her face. "And I'll think 'bout signin' yer paper."

She harrumphed her way to the exit when he called after her: “And don’ drink no damn whiskey!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” she yelled over her shoulder and swiped a glass from the shelf on her way out. 

She bought a bottle of wine and went back to the harbor. A police officer strolled towards her and said she can’t drink in public but she showed him her hand and told him it’s medicine. He gave her nice clothes a look over, nodded with a small smile and strolled away. She sat at the harbor a long time but didn't touch the wine after the first sip. Her stomach was still sour from yesterday and it tasted vile today.

Luther had a point and she hated to admit it. The notion that something profound had happened between Arthur and Abigail had been so very plausible last night but seemed really flimsy today. She racked her memories to come up with proof otherwise - a suspicious look or any kind of awkwardness between them but failed to do so. Arthur treated her the same way he treated most other gang members - like a mild nuisance he tolerated because she happened to be family.

This assuaged some of her anger but unfortunately did little with regards to her jealousy. Was it ridiculous to be jealous of something long before her time? Absolutely. Was she jealous anyway? Yes. This must be one of those embarrassing, dumb things that happens when you really fall for a guy, she thought because she hadn’t felt anything like it for her former flames. In fact most of those had moved on to other girls and some even had married and she had hardly thought about it, let alone throw a fit and smash glasses.

She noticed that the sun had set, so she went and had dinner. When it still wasn’t late enough, she went to a show, although afterwards she couldn't recall much what she had watched. Then she finally had run out of excuses and had to go back to camp.

When she arrived, it was very late but surprisingly lively. People were still riding the rescue high. She saw Arthur’s silhouette jump up from the fire and march over before she could even dismount and rolled her eyes at the lecture she was about to receive.

“Where ya been?” he seethed as he shouldered her aside to take the saddle off. “Came to pick you up, ya never left work.”

“Why did you do that?”

“What d’ya mean, why? Wan’ed to see you.” 

God, you would think a great catastrophe had befallen him when all she had done was give him the cold shoulder for two days! First conflict they had since they had moved in together and half the time he acted irritated because she wouldn't let him "fix" things and the other half, upset as if he was suffering through some great injustice.

“I just asked because I assumed you’d be at your picnic,” she said coolly.

“Was no picnic,” he gave her a hard look. “Ya gonna answer or what - where was you?”

“Chef gave me the day off,” she said dismissively, hefting her basket, but he quickly swiped that off her hands, too. She threw up her arms in frustration and started towards their tent.

“So where was you?” he said as he walked with her.

“Saint Denis,” was her evasive answer.

“Lemme guess,” was his dry retort. “Luther.” He seemed annoyed that she preferred to run to Luther instead of talking to him, but he didn't voice it. 

“Among other things.”

“What other things?”

“Wouldn’t you want to know?”

“Why didn’ you come home?” 

“Wanted to be alone,” she shrugged. 

This visibly frustrated him, but he didn't voice that, either. "I ain’t happy you coming in this late,” he grumbled as they reached the tent. “Bad folk out there.” 

“Bad folk in here, too,” she quipped and it silenced him for a few moments. 

He closed the flap behind them and put the basket aside. 

“Savigne...” he started but she interrupted him:

“I already listened to enough nonsense today, I’m all talked out.”

“What nonsense?”

“Everybody thinks I’m a fool,” she grumbled, yanking the pins out of her hair. “You have to wonder how I’m tying my shoelaces every morning, being as stupid as I am.” She threw the pins into the box with fervor and sat in front of the mirror, picking non existent lint off her blouse. It had stung, the way Mr Bowers had looked at her. And the truth of Luther’s words. And Abigail’s dumb insensitivity. And Arthur’s blindness to her point of view.

It occurred to her that she didn’t have anyone who stepped in and acknowledged her feelings and her frustration. She was surrounded by people who constantly told her she was wrong or too sensitive or too naive. And the fact that she had picked these people meant it was her doing, although she couldn’t fathom why she was doing it. 

“Y’aint no fool,” he said carefully and sat down at the table. “Lemme see the hand.”

“My hand is fine, she mumbled, thinking that she needed to pick better people. Softer people. People who would for once carry her banner to battle instead of stabbing her in the back with it.

“Lemme see,” he insisted. “Could get infected.”

She sat across from him and did as asked because the last thing she needed now was an infection. He paused when he unwound the bandages.

"What happened to yer hand?" 

Something stirred in her head and she reflexively pushed it down.

He looked up at her. "Did ya hurt it again?"

She looked at the blood, pooled purple under her skin and the gashes, wider now, more swollen than before. "No."

He gazed at her a long moment and she stared back, her mind placid and empty. Then he sighed and went about cleaning it. She bit her lip to keep in the hiss because it hurt. 

“Had a bad day, huh?” he said after a short silence. 

“Quite horrible actually.”

“Me too,” he said. 

“You should have gone to that picnic I guess,” she quipped.

He inhaled a frustrated breath, trying to remain calm. “Woman,” he said carefully, “I can’t change the past. Ain’t fair yer actin’ like I betrayed you cause I fucked someone six years ago.”

“Not just someone. Abigail! She’s right here!” Her arm waved in the camp’s direction.

“Didn’ know she was gonna stick around, did I?” was his heated response. “That she was gonna be John’s woman? That she was gonna have a kid and become family? She changed. Ya gonna tell her she can’t cause she did what she did for a livin’?”

She clicked her tongue and looked away. There was a long silence during which she watched him work, marveling how gentle he could be with hands like those. He finished wrapping and tied the knot but held on to her hand when she tried to pull it back; running his fingers over the edges of the bandages, pretending to adjust minor imperfections. The gesture reminded her of something uncomfortable but she couldn't place it and he spoke up and distracted her before long:

“Been quiet in here,” he murmured, eyes flicking up to her. “I miss yer chirping.”

She pressed her lips, afraid that she would forgive him right then and there. It was hard to resist Arthur when he was present in person, always had been. And he must know it too, because whenever he wanted to erode her resolve, he made sure to be impossible to shake off.   

"You know what I'm realizing?" she sniffed, eager to change the subject. "That Dutch is right about one thing at least. Life is easier with a family." He watched her while he held her injured hand and drew circles on the back of it with his thumb. "Maybe I didn't understand it because I wasn't really on my own before."

"How do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Growing up in an orphanage...I didn't have to do a lot of things myself, it was done for me. Like, I didn't have to protect myself. I didn't have to go out there and deal with..." she swallowed the word 'broker' at the last moment. "...institutions. That sort of thing," she mumbled. "Guess it gave me this false sense of independence. Like I can do whatever I want and it doesn't matter if I'm alone. I’m finding out that it’s hard.”

"But y’aint alone," he said quietly, the statement lilting like a question. Nothing in his expression changed but something in his demeanor shifted as his sharp focus came to rest on her. 

"Not what I meant," she squirmed in her chair, feeling like she had said too much.

"What did you mean?" he pressed, his gaze unblinking.

"Nothing. Just...that it's hard for a woman on her own, that's all," she said dismissively. 

She pulled at her hand again, but again, he didn't let go. He didn't look away when he leaned his elbows on the table and asked "But y'aint on yer own. Are you?" Now there was a tinge of offense in his tone.

"I meant in general," she mumbled but she could tell he didn't buy it.

"Did you?" was his mild question. His attention on her was so intense, she practically felt naked. There was a bout of silence.

"Where was you today?" he asked calmly.

It was bizarre how much she felt like a little girl caught by one of the nuns at the orphanage. Lying was of no use, Arthur read her too god damn well.

“I went to inquire about cabins,” she admitted with some hesitation. 

He flinched as if she had slapped him. There was a long silence as he looked at her with disbelief and she stared back, a little uneasy about the intensity of his reaction. She sensed his surprise, and not merely surprise that she had snooped around, but surprise of her intentions. Surprise that she was entertaining the idea of walking away - not just from the gang, but from him too, if necessary.

“You serious?” The incredulity in his voice was obvious.

"I just wanted to know my options,” was her defensive response as she withdrew her hand.

He ran a palm over his beard and looked away. 

“It’s not like I’m moving to Europe,” she managed a moment later. “I’m going to be close to Saint Denis…” she trailed. This didn't do anything for his building agitation. 

“No.” Said with the finality of a gunshot.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

When she had bid him goodbye in Saint Denis as she was boarding the train, he had had the very same look on his face as he did now. Arthur wasn't stupid, he knew what was going through her head probably better than she knew herself, but he obviously disagreed with her decision and he was getting ready to push back.

He set his jaw, shoulders rigid. “Lemme put things straight.” His voice was calm but the fire dancing in his eyes gave off palpable heat. He leaned on the table, looking at her from under his eyebrows. "It's gonna be a cold day in hell before I let ya go get killed in some cabin.”

She sat back with a sigh. You can come with me, she wanted to say, but couldn't. Now that she was at the cusp of it, it was harder than she imagined. Because if she never asked, she could always pretend that he would. But if she asked, he could say no. He probably would say no. He definitely would say no.

“Arthur,” she swallowed, “I appreciate it, I do. But…”

“I ain’t agreeing to this,” he said, crossing his arms.

“You don’t have to."

“Savigne,” was his sigh of frustration, “don’ fight me on this.”

“Someone has to think of me,” she grumbled. Did he think this was an easy decision for her?

“Ya think I ain’t?” he said, equal parts incredulous and offended. “I'm your man. Your safety is my job.”

“I think maybe you have too many jobs,” she countered, trying to put it gently.

"What's that 'sposed to mean?" he asked but it was obvious he understood her well enough. 

"I'm tired," she said, feeling dejected. It was pointless. He didn't want her to leave which was heart warming but he didn't understand why she had to, and that was irritating. "I don't want to fight you anymore."

"Good."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean I don't want to argue."

"Also good."

He sat there, arms crossed, tense as a bowstring, head averted, a mixture of sullen and pouty which, frankly, looked a bit silly on someone like him. He was trying not to show it but she could sense his hurt and surprisingly, it didn't give her the satisfaction she thought it would. Because, she reminded herself, Arthur hadn't led her on. She had done that to herself. 

"My hand hurts," she said a moment later. "If you could bring in some water..."

He blinked at her, a little startled that she had made a request. "Sure," he said and rose up.

The enthusiasm and pleasure with which he went about the simple task twisted her heart.

[stinkysam]

Deke Shaw - Patience is a man's best virtue.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "How about Deke and the reader getting closer in Season 5 after they all return to modern time, mostly because the reader is patient with him unlike the rest and entertains all his questions about Earth understanding of his circumstances :) And somewhere along the way Deke develops feelings lol" - @intrepid-captain

Reader : male (you/yours)

It took him some time to realize his feelings for you, for someone so in tune with his feelings and emotions, he didn't see it coming, at all. You won him over slowly.

He didn't think he'd move on from Daisy. She had it all. Beauty, personality, strength… maybe except patience.

You, on the other hand, seemed full of it. Not that you didn't have the rest as well but patience was really what struck him down in the long run. And doing things for the long run is what he prefers.

You would answer his questions about food, music, movies without judging him for not knowing about it.

"Hey, man can you do me a favor ?"

"Hit me."

"What the hell is this ?" He says, shoving a can of chicken pot pie into your hands.

"The- it's- it's supposed to be a pie, but the companies sell it that way so you can eat the filling or shove it in… in a crust ?"

Deke blinks at you, mouth open as he grabs back the can.

"So it's not soup ?"

"Depends on what a soup is to you."

He stares at you and tilts his head in a way that means to not make it harder for him. You snort and continue. "Nope. Pie. Chicken pie. Maybe we have some frozen crust laying around ?" You say, but you know he's not listening by the end of your sentence.

Or you hear a knock at 3am on your door. You think about ignoring it but it sounded urgent so you get up, your blanket wrapped around you and you open your door to see Deke, also wrapped in his blanket, somewhat panicked.

"Hey, [Name], huh… about what you told me today about gun rights. Awesome. Love it. But like… everyone, everyone ?" He says quietly.

"As long as you're 18 or 21, yeah."

"Yeah, yeah but like…" He looks at you, eyes wide as he waves his hands. "Everyone ?"

You sigh and open your door, inviting him in.

You ended the night with the both of you sitting on your bed, wrapped in blankets and talking about gun rights and the American government.

Since you were one of the few SHIELD agents not wanted, you could often go outside and buy snacks for the team during the occasional quiet times. And Deke would always come with you.

It's like he could smell it in the air when you were about to step outside.

"Why are you following me ?"

"Coulson asked you to pick tonight's dinner, right ?" He asked, smiling.

"Yeah. You want to come ?" As if you needed to ask.

You looked over your shoulder, watching Deke follow you, quickening his pace to be next to you. You already knew what was coming next.

"Yeah ! Duh, obviously." To then add more shyly… "Can I ?"

"Go grab the bags and let's go."

"Right away, sir." And with these words, Deke darted away with a smile, only to come back a few minutes later with them. "Come on, let's go, I'm waiting !"

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile as you walked outside with him by your side.

You entered your car and gave Deke your phone, he was already navigating it like it was his. He quickly opened spotify and put some music on. He liked it, your playlist allowing him to discover artists like Racoon Tour, Sleep Token, Ado, Jhariah, or even musicals such as Something Rotten!, Beetlejuice, The Newsies or Rent.

You walked next to him in the store because you knew if you left him alone, you'd end up buying way more than planned.

"Do you really do the lemon thing here ?" He suddenly asks.

"The what ?"

He shakes his head, debating whether he should explain it once more or not.

"You know, saving tokens to buy some lemons and putting them on your… crush's bed so they know someone's into them ?" He says quietly, afraid someone might overhear something potentially ridiculous.

You stare at him and frown with a smile.

"No. But we have anonymous love letters ?"

"What ?" He says, almost offended. "But Coulson and Mack told me…" He grimaces. "These liars."

"Yeah, no. We don't do that here." You say as you pat his back and he huffs, clearly upset.

Then it hit you.

"Oh so that was you ? I heard whispers saying Daisy found a bunch of lemons on her bed." You looked at him and a blush began to crept on his cheeks.

"Yeah- no- that's… yeah… that was me." He admitted, defeated.

"Aw, that's cute. Bit weird out of context but cute. That explains all the lemons in the pantry." You said, patting his back once more, this time more gently.

He stared at you, surprised. He expected you to laugh at him and mock him but instead you found it… cute ? He smiled, sheepish.

"Yeah… I guess…"

After buying all that was necessary you'd make a stop at a bar to get a drink. Or a snack.

"I don't understand."

"What." You ask, bringing your beverage to your lips, taking a sip.

"Beer. It tastes so bad. I lived all my life thinking it was the drink. You know ? You forget your problems because it's so good." He looked at you, expecting an answer. "Why does it taste so bad ?"

"I don't know. Alcohol ?" You shrugged with a grimace.

"But I love Zima."

"That you do." You say with a light chuckle.

"What ?"

"Just remembering your first day here where you ended up drunk and in jail."

"Hey, not cool, man, plus I wasn't drunk."

"Right." You laughed gently, taking another sip of your drink. He smiled at you as he did the same.

Sometimes, during the most boring days you'd stop in town and let him buy what he wanted. Or more accurately, you'd buy him something, whatever that caught his eyes.

Sometimes it'd be maps and postal cards of random places, newspapers, magazines, VHS, DVDs, vinyls… or pastries. They'd all end up preciously stacked in his room, except the food.

It's moments like these that made his heart flutter. Your patience and kindness. He didn't think he'd move on from Daisy, nor did he think he'd be happy about it.

It's as he stares at you for longer than usual as you work on the computers, talking with the others that he realizes his feelings. Yeah, he's got it bad.

[bratzforchris]

hiii :) can you do one where it’s luke’s first thanksgiving in the usa with his girlfriend and he eats a lot and doesn’t feel well? lots of fluff and cuddles please <33

No Thanks Thanksgiving

❃

Summary: Above

Pairing: Luke x feminine reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1434

A/N: Thank you for the request! I love writing fluffy sick/hurt-comfort fics<3

❃

"I'm so excited for your first Thanksgiving, baby." You hummed happily, holding Luke's hand as you two walked up to the door of your parents house.

"I am too." Luke said, flashing you a smile.

Being Australian, Luke had never celebrated Thanksgiving. You two had started dating in January, so he had missed the holiday with your family last year. You were his first American girlfriend, meaning you got to introduce him to the holiday and all its festivities, which you were very excited for.

"Hey kids!" Your mom smiled, opening the door when you rang the bell.

You and Luke greeted your mother as she pulled you two into a tight hug. Most of your family had met Luke at your birthday party in July and they loved him. You smiled, taking Luke's hand and leading him through the house as you said hello to your various family members.

"It smells so good," Luke's mouth was practically watering as he took in the scents of the house. "I'm so hungry."

The blond hadn't even eaten lunch in fear of getting full too fast at tonight's feast, making his belly growl loudly with hunger at the smells wafting in from the kitchen.

"Just wait til you taste it!" You said excitedly.

"Dinner's ready!" Your aunt called.

You took Luke's hand and pulled him into the kitchen, watching his eyes go wide at the sheer amount of food.

"There's so much..." he mumbled, taking a plate.

You smiled and giggled, making your own plate. "Go ahead, love."

Luke took some of everything, figuring he had to try it all, being his first Thanksgiving. By the time he had reached the end of the buffet line, he observed his plate, which was piled extremely high, making it a mountain compared to your serving. Was it rude to take this much? But he couldn't just put it all back. Luke sighed and held his plate closer to his chest as he followed you, figuring he better start eating before others saw him carrying his weight in food.

He sat down with you and began to eat, humming happily at how good everything tasted. "Is this how Thanksgiving is every year?" he asked you.

You giggled and nodded. "Do you like it?"

Luke nodded quickly, taking another large bite. "It's so good. I want more."

Just as he said that, your uncle passed by. "Go ahead, son. There's plenty left and you're a big guy. No shame in that." he winked.

Despite a slight feeling of fullness radiating from his stomach, Luke headed back to the kitchen for seconds. This time, he came back with a slightly more...normal portion. His plate was full of the items he had decided were his favorites, to include mac n cheese, turkey and gravy, and pumpkin pie.

"I've decided I love Thanksgiving." Luke mumbled through a mouthful of pie.

"I knew you would." You said, smiling and kissing his cheek.

By the time he had finished his second plate, Luke felt like he could explode. The blond pushed the empty plates away from him, letting out a slight burp.

"So baby, was your first Thanksgiving memorable?" You asked him.

Luke nodded sleepily, leaning his head on your shoulder. "I don't think I'll ever need to eat again.”

You laughed, and Luke leaned into you tiredly, listening to you talk about various topics with your family. Before long, everyone began to migrate to the living room to watch the football game.

"Coming, Luke?" You glanced over at your boyfriend who seemed like he was slipping into a food coma at the table.

“Mhm.” he mumbled, pushing back from the table with slight wince on his face.

“You okay?” You asked, rubbing his back.

“Full.” he breathed out, the heaviness settling further into his stomach now that he was standing.

As you two settled onto on one of the couches, Luke pressed a hand to his distended belly. “People do this every year? I’ve never eaten so much in my life…”

Your family all laughed, but turned back to the television. You cuddled into Luke’s side and placed your hand over his.

“Well Thanksgiving is every year but I don’t think people always eat that much since it’s not their first time,” You chuckled. “You gave the buffet a run for its money. Are you okay, though?”

Luke nodded, cuddling into you. “I’m just overly full.”

You said nothing more, content to sit on the couch with your love as you slipped into your own food coma. You had nearly fallen asleep when you felt your dad appear beside you and Luke.

“How was dinner, son?”

“It was really good, thank you,” Luke smiled. “I ate way too much.”

Your dad laughed. “I’m happy you had a good time.”

You smiled fondly, kissing Luke’s cheek as your dad moved along to your grandfather. “You’re so sweet.”

Luke let out a hiccup and a burp and blushed. “I’m sorry. I’m so full.”

“Happens to the best of us, babe.” You said fondly, pulling a blanket over your legs.

Luke was quiet for a few minutes, leaning his head on your shoulder. For a while, the only sounds you heard were the chats of your family members and football on TV. You only zoned back in when you felt Luke start to shift around.

The blond was beginning to grow uncomfortable, his stomach not happy with digesting the extreme quantity of food he’d eaten. He didn’t think you’d notice until his belly let out an audible rumble.

“Was that you?” You questioned.

Luke wrapped an arm around his swollen tummy. “Stomach hurts.” he mumbled softly, not wanting to completely embarrass himself in front of your family.

“I think your eyes were bigger than your tummy,” You laughed softly. “Here bubs.” You lifted the blanket further up so as not to embarrass him and slid your hand under it and onto his stomach, rubbing softly.

The blond was a cuddle magnet and that was amplified by a thousand when he didn’t feel well. Luke leaned into your touch, humming softly. “Thank you.”

Slowly, everyone began to clear out and head home, much to Luke’s relief. You two were spending the night at your parent’s house and he was ready to go upstairs and lay down. He couldn’t have been happier when he heard you ask him if he was ready for bed. Luke slowly pushed himself up from the couch, wincing at how his jeans dug into his belly.

Luke was relieved when you finally reached your childhood room. His stomach was beyond full and achy and he just wanted to curl up and be cuddled.

“Poor thing, you’ve been wearing jeans the whole time.” You pouted sadly, watching him unbutton his jeans and let out a content sigh.

Luke curled up on the bed in his boxers, making grabby hands for you to come cuddle. You quickly obliged, laying down beside him and resting your hand on his bloated belly. Normally, Luke is very toned and has abs, but right now, he had a little food baby compared to his slender, lanky frame.

“Still got a tummy ache?” You asked him, rubbing up and down his torso as you felt his stomach bubbling, trying to digest his immense meal.

“My stomach feels weird…” he whimpered softly.

“You okay?” You asked, slightly concerned that he had actually eaten himself sick.

“Mhm,” the blond took a deep breath through his nose. “I’m just not used to eating that much.”

“My poor baby,” You cooed, continuing to rub his tummy. “I’m sorry you don’t feel good, but I am very happy I got to spend today with you.”

Luke smiled and nuzzled impossibly closer to you. "Me too."

Eventually, you decided it was late enough to go to bed and rolled over to turn off the lamp. Moving yourself to cuddle on Luke's chest, you laid your head down with a happy little sigh, listening to the sounds of his stomach growling in the quiet room.

"I hear your belly. Does it still hurt? Don't lie." You asked him, knowing Luke was notorious for playing off his feelings so you wouldn't worry.

"Yeah..." he mumbled rather sheepishly. "I'll be okay, though. It was really good, I just ate too much."

You giggled softly. "It was like a Thanksgiving initiation."

Luke chuckled and kissed your forehead. "That it was."

All was silent after that, save for the sounds of Luke's breathing and digestion. The last thing you remembered was hearing your boyfriend whisper softly "I'm thankful for you, baby."

[lv-iceprince]

the fae of the oktober woods

pairing~ park seonghwa x oc! reader (this is for my bff katt ya'll)

genre~ (au) (h) (lowkey fluff)

ghostwritten for~ @horanghaejamjam (as a part of the atiny halloween project)

synopsis~ when katt had moved to quiet do-gooder neighbourhood they find that they got more than they bargained for. behind each preppy student and righteous priest was a fascination with the occult. what katt really wanted was to find love, but there was no way that they would find love in a town that felt like hell on earth... right? maybe just maybe they would have to look darkness in the eyes to find a love that would last for an eternity or more.

… or the one where curiosity finally got the better of katt.

wordcount~ 6.5k

featuring~ mentions of christianity, talk of ghost sex but no ghost sex actually occurs, an amateur summoning ritual (mentioned but no graphic summoning happens ), a haunted house, course language, a predator/prey dynamic, alcohol and drug consumption (every one is legal in this fic so don't worry and it's mentioned for a brief second, only seeing it if you squint), strange dreams, hints of smut at the end but no actual smut, i don't want to spoil it but seonghwa isn't who he seems to be- but spoiler he isn’t a faerie

playlist~ 🍄

a/n~ hi! it me~ i may have gotten way too carried away in this one, i was a horror writer for ten years of my life. so this really makes me feel nostalgic. and surprise katt!! i nearly spilt the beans so many times while writing this.

i love you so much buddy 🥹

also a huge thank you to @atinyhalloweenproject for giving me the opportunity to participate and for being so kind and patience, i truly truly appreciate it.

this is kind of creepy, like duh it's horror but this is the uneasy type of horror but it's still kind of sexy?

“Tonights terrifying tale takes us to an everyday neighbourhood, the houses are perfect, the American apple pie life we all want and to make it better the people are just as perfect. But this isn’t about them, it’s a tale of lust, deep desire, and a dance with the devil.

In this episode we will peel back the streets of suburbia and you will find something dark and twisted… if you dare to look.

I’m your host Barry Collins and this is…”

There was no bad blood between you or the ancient, living skeleton of a host but with a swift movement you reached for the remote. Upon doing so you were immediately relieved of the grating static of the old re-run of some ancient black and white Halloween special that had been on loop since you moved in. 

Bringing your hands up you lightly pressed your fingers into your temple, an attempt to soothe the persistent migraine that had been lingering since the early hours of this morning.

To say your dreams were getting out of control was a huge understatement, but how could you put it into words. How could you approach your parents and say that you woke up feeling as if an invisible weight was pushing down on your chest paired with sharp ringing in your ears, oh, and don't forget the immediate urge to throw your blankets to the ground and remove your pyjamas that clung to you.

Technically you could, but that wouldn't even touch the surface of everything that had been going on.

One thing was apparent as you looked ahead and saw a human-shaped blur sitting next to you through reflection on the blank screen...The only thing you had control over was the tv.

With a sigh you stood, feigning ignorance as you often did. Three months in this house and such things were a common occurrence, whether it be out of pure exhaustion or extreme confidence you let everything remain as it was. There was no need to search for all your missing items if they didn't want to be found.

Passing by a generous handful of misplaced shadows you made your way to the kitchen, stopping to pet Prince and Gizmo who trailed close to your feet. "You want a treat? You both deserve a treat for guarding my room last night." Crouching low you kept them occupied with a scratch behind their ears before tearing the scrap of bacon that remained on your plate in half. Wiping the grease on the hem of your t-shirt you all but threw your dishes into the sink as you brought your hands up once again.

"Shh stop it, no more headaches, just calm down Katt, it's okay." Your self-soothing was starting to work until a cold hand gripped your shoulder.

A sharp exhale knocked the little air you had as you spun around on high alert. Your sporadic movement startled both you and your mom, you honestly didn't know you had it in you.

"Katt! My god, what's gotten into you?" "Mom, you scared me!" Your shaky voice was a dead giveaway that something was eating away at you, call it luck or mother's intuition but she could sense your invisible thoughts, words that never formed.

"You're so skittish today, is there something I should know?" "I'm not skittish! You literally came out of nowhere, and who grabs shoulders like that. You're like every horror movie mom ever." You were the only one amused by your comeback, which was apparent by your giggle and the fact she just stood their analysing you. So, you decided to break the uncomfortable silence "Don't worry I'm just a little tired."

"If you're too tired you might have to miss the church service tonight, I know they're expecting you to be there but you're honestly not going to miss out on much."

"What?! No! I mean I'm well enough, I'm so energetic right now don't sweat it."

You weren’t looking forward to the bi-monthly sermons that most of the town attended. There were only two things you wanted most in this world, 1. A boyfriend and 2. To spend as much time as possible away from your potentially haunted house. And church could probably give you two of those things but at what cost?

Luckily for you, you really didn't have to submit yourself to an extended church service, opting instead to abandon the sermon and have a bonfire with your friends.

At this point in time, you were being quite generous with the whole ‘friend’ title in a frantic attempt to distract yourself from how shit this town actually was. Normally you would have refrained yourself from being half as critical but honestly Birch Lake was unnerving and the people even more so. Your friends were as preppy as they could get, yet they had their generous dose of duality with their obsession with the colourful history of ghosts and the occult. In any other circumstance you would casually avoid them, but right now you had to make the best of what you had.

"If you need to rest you can stay home, the last thing I want to do is force you to go."

In a motherly fashion she brushed your bangs to the side, resting the back of her hand on your heated forehead.

"It's your call, do what feels best."

Your sleep deprived mind was playing havoc with the words you spoke, resulting in the most gracious word vomit.

"I don't know, I want… I want to, I need..."

"You need to get laid."

“What?”

Phoebe didn't even attempt to hide her eyes rolling to the back of her head “Katt I’m not repeating myself twenty fucking times because you have insomnia or some shit.” Even with all the attitude her eyes met your and she smiled.  “I was just saying, you’ve been here for like what? Five months?”

You nodded your head, trying to play it cool as the rest of the group eyed you, it was hard to tell whether the heat came from the bonfire or from their collective gaze burning holes into you. If it wasn’t for the shitty craft beer flowing through your body, you probably would have had the energy required to give a decent response, but you stayed silent drinking in the flames.

Having realised that you weren’t going to bite the bait Phoebe readied another comment before she was abruptly cut off by Tao “It feels like you’re overcompensating for something Phoebe, the lord asks us to look within, and from where I’m sitting, looking through you I see that you’re the one who needs to get laid.”

Amongst your group of friends who you truly would have avoided under any other circumstances, Tao was the most harmless. Regardless, he was still the leader of your group. He didn’t seem like much, but he had wit and charm, he was the shepherd who led your group away from the bible school hall, past the theatre and into the forest to get to a small clearing. Tao was the son of the head pastor meaning he knew how to skip sermons without anyone noticing. He was also the only person who had your back…when he felt like it…which made him a D+ at best but he was still appreciated.

Each person broke into a mocking chorus of laughter, which Phoebe joined in on “Haha ha ha hahahaha fuck all of you, I hope you all die in a ditch in your next lives.”

Taking her comment with a pinch of salt you all resumed back to what you were doing before, listening to Jeremy as he mentioned some old lost media legend. “That reminds me, Jeremy you’re into lost media and stuff, have you seen this black and white tv show it’s kind of like the Twilight Zone but it’s just supernatural horror?” Jeremy looked over the rim of his tortoise-shell glasses, squinting at you, his attention was peaked. “What’s it called?” “I don’t know the name of it, I always miss the opening credits or switch the channel.” “So, it’s one you’ve seen?” “Yeah, it’s hosted by this old guy Barry Collins that’s all I know.” Jeremy raised a brow contemplating what you had just told him “I don’t think I’ve heard of it.” “That’s strange it’s on probably eight times a day and it’s the same episode on loop, or at least I assume it is.” You may have been far too optimistic assuming he would solve this mystery in a mere couple of minutes “Well, sounds like a good show, maybe I can come over sometime and see it”.

As the minutes passed a layer of fog seemed to cover everyone’s eyes, a result of the weed and alcohol stash everyone contributed to. You initially wanted to dull down your senses, hoping the one can you had would serve as mental cough syrup, even though it wasn’t strong enough you refused to have any more. So, you sat, keeping yourself entertained by picking at your black and orange pumpkin nails.

It was when you looked up once more when you noticed something flicker at the corner of your eyes and your throat tightened, if it wasn’t for the size of the bonfire, you wouldn’t have noticed it. But the silver switchblade was shimmering as bright as the stars above. So, you could confirm that you weren’t jumping the gun or losing your mind you did a double take, what you didn’t know was that this would result in the worst mistake you had ever made.

Phoebe noticed the nervous flicker in your eyes as you looked towards her drawstring backpack that was slouched at the edge of the log she sat on. In an instant you had sprung to your feet, though you wanted to run your body was stuck in invisible quicksand, fear ceasing your muscles. There was a delayed reaction of a couple of long seconds before anyone noticed you jumping up in fear.

“Damn Katt you need to chill; you scared me half to death.”

“No! I’m not going to chill! You can’t tell me she isn’t going to hurt me! She has a knife!”

If this were any other circumstance, you would have taken a chill pill and even laughed about it, but this was a sick kind of déjà vu. It was hard to determine when the dream had occurred, each night blurred into one, but one image you would never get out of your head was the one where the infamous Phoebe stood, knife in hand, a piercing look in her eyes as a foggy darkness outlined her petite frame.

“You’re totally taking this out of context, this knife isn’t for you. I had other plans tonight.”

“But…” “No Katt, you spoilt the surprise, I thought you could all do a favour for me. I wasn’t going to mention it yet, but I did some soul searching and realised people suck, and there is no way I’m dating Justin again, but I totally need some dick so the next best option. Obviously summon a ghost to sleep with and call it a night.”

The saddest thing about that was the fact that you couldn’t tell whether she was that drunk or whether she had always been this insane.

“I can sense the judgement don’t act all high and mighty you would do the same thing.” “As far as I can tell I definitely wouldn’t do the same thing!” “Well, the knife isn’t for you, no blood sacrifice, it’s to cut hair, string and other some other stuff. I did the other part of the ritual earlier, but I needed an open fire, so I thought I’d get some help.”

You took a step back, grabbing your bag, you didn’t have to be superstitious to know that this was something you didn’t want to be involved in.

“You’re seriously overreacting Katt, hey, if you help me with the ritual maybe we could have a threesome with the ghost.” A thin layer of bile formed in your throat at the idea. But what truly made your stomach churn was the fact that no one was batting an eye, they had made it clear that they wanted to be in on this either for the thrill of it or they were all equally as insane as each other.

Having stood your ground as best as you could for the whole entire night, you allowed yourself to turn in the other direction and run as soon as the candles were lit, and the sigils were roughly etched into the dank soil next to the fire.

Feeling permanently stuck in flight mode you found it impossible to catch your breath, though you were in motion already the swamp green forestry started to spin. In that moment you were waiting to fall face first into the mud and be taken out of this sweet misery but instead you kept moving, losing balance you hopped a few steps forward and into something, or more appropriately someone judging by the sharp sound of them being winded.

You had already made it up in your mind that if it were Tao or literally any one of those phonies you would shove them away and continue running. So, you readied yourself by pulling your arms back, but like an unstable slingshot your arms snapped down to your sides as you looked up to see the kindest doe eyes that were slightly covered by his loose black hair. Considering how you literally winded him, he still held a gentle gaze as he looked down at you, though nothing was said your heartbeat fell into a soft rhythm. For someone who looked as magical as the forest around him it was almost impossible to imagine what his voice would have sounded like. It was up to the stranger to break the silence and he did oh so gracefully, with a comforting smile he spoke his voice just above a hushed whisper.

“It’s okay, you’re safe, deep breathes. If you’re in danger just squeeze my hand.” It wasn’t like you to trust someone so quickly, but this felt different. “I’m fine, they probably weren’t going to hurt me, I just wanted to go home but I don’t know how to get out of here.” He opened his mouth to respond but paused as he heard the ominous snap of branches. Without hesitation he wrapped his arm around you “I can help you get out of here you just need to stick close and tell me everything. His grip was firm, but not vicious as he led you back to where you came from, you hesitated, your pace slowing down.

 As if he could read your mind, he went on to soothe you with his words once again. “We need to cut through here, there’s no way I’m letting you go back there. But now you’ve calmed down I need to know what you were running from.”  “I don’t think you’re going to believe me.” You pause awaiting his name. “Seonghwa.” “Seonghwa.” The way his name felt falling from your lips was addictive, “Well.” He paused too “Katt.” “Katt, I doubt you’d be this shaken up for no reason, plus I definitely heard some shouting.”

“I just escaped one potential murderer, so I hope you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out here so late?” Without missing a beat, he answered. “I was picking mushrooms.”  Man, he was really out here being the most ethereal forest being in the universe. Noticing your bewilderment, he continued “My grandma used to forage as a child, and she asked me to go get some mushrooms.” Despite his simple explanation many of your questions remained unanswered, yet your curiosity pushed forward. “So, you’re a fan of ghost mushrooms then, interesting.” Seonghwa grinned at your dry retort “I’m more of an oyster mushroom guy, I imagine the poison would be too bitter for me.”

Scoffing at his response you were captivated by the instant shimmer of light that cast itself onto his cheek, as if he was warmed by the rays he hummed in delight, even though it was a mere streetlamp.

“There you go, I should be getting home.”

Your mind had already weaved a beautiful narrative of discovering “the one” hiding out beneath the shady leaves, so you held onto his arm for a few seconds too long. Seonghwa noticed, tilting his head like a curious rabbit before realisation set in. His soft gaze flickered with a sense of confidence, “Unless you’d prefer that I walk you home.” “I would like that but please don’t keep your grandma waiting.” “I don’t think she’ll mind; evening walks are kind of a norm for me.” “Thank you so much, I owe you one.” Seonghwa looked off into the distance shielding you from his suave grin, part of him hoping that you would give him something sensual in return. Despite his sinful temptation he looked back at you his sharp eyes softening as he feigned innocence. “Katt” He savoured each syllable, “You don’t owe me anything, unless…” He dropped the sentence hoping you’d bite back enough for him to charm you. “Whatever it is, yes.” “I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, friend.”

For the first time that night you genuinely laughed.

“It’s your lucky day, I’m definitely looking for new friends.” The transition between extreme fear and instantaneous lovesickness left you in a daze, so much so that you didn’t realise that either A. Seonghwa knew where you lived or B. That you subconsciously knew where your house was, nor had you realised that you had released his arm from your tight, timid grasp. The swinging of your arms brought forward the autumn winds which then brought forward the faint smell of dirt and mushrooms. The conversation itself was way more colourful than the streetlights that made his eyes twinkle.

The house called your name, but you refused to listen, hesitant to leave Seonghwa’s side. It’s not like you fully believed that it was haunted or evil it just wasn’t it.  If he noticed your hesitance, he didn’t acknowledge it. There was something he wanted to say, but instead he glared at the house as if he had a vendetta against it.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.” “Of course, anything to see you safe from the Oktober ghouls and witches.” He said that part with a smooth chuckle, swiping his lower lip with his tongue.

“I hope to see you sometime soon Katt. You made my night even though you practically winded me.” “Hey! I said I was sorry, I think, look I was scared.” “Well, how about you make it up to me with a hug next time? Good night Katt.” One sheepish smile and a polite wave later and Seonghwa was up the road, looking back at you as you entered your house. What he didn’t see or hear was the delighted squeal you let out as you clutched your heart, excited butterflies warmed your heart as you closed your eyes, his face, no his smile, no… his everything was a good enough reason to keep your eyes clenched shut as you walked to your room, again it felt like you already knew this place like the back of your hand. Once you had made it to your room you fell back on your bed, too dazed, and your heart feeling too light to notice the misplaced shadows or the murmuring that surrounded you.

You had fallen asleep, something you found hard to believe, but what was more of a shock was the fact that you also left the door unlocked. Your parents were prepared to enter a house devoid of all your belongings. Luckily nothing had been stolen and even better, after losing sight of you at church, they returned home to find you asleep with a peaceful smile on your face. Even so, they wasted no time questioning your whereabouts as soon as you made your way downstairs for breakfast. You had a keen sense of self-awareness in the way that you knew that your lie was utter bullshit, yet you decided to commit to the bit and claim that you were there for most of the bible study session until you got a stomach-ache and that the church knew about the entire situation and that Tao had walked you home.

“You know you can be honest Katt.” “I’m telling the truth! I haven’t been well lately; it might be a summer cold or like an autumn cold? All I know is it sucks, and I still don’t feel good.” Your dad was certainly more amused by your flailing arms as opposed to your mom who shovelled more syrup-drenched pancakes onto your plate, hoping you would calm down and eat. You didn’t show any sign of stopping, so your mom took any type of silence to interject “Don’t let your pancakes go cold.” Hoping that you had convinced your parents enough you ate, savouring the syrup. You were in no rush to finish them trying to delay the ordeal of doing the dishes today, yet it was that day that your saviour arrived at the door.

As soon as the knock resounded throughout the entire house you jumped up, speed walking away from your parents prying gaze. At this stage you would have been relieved to see the damn mailman, However, you were greeted with something way better. His hair gently fell across his forehead, even though it was a wavy mess it seemed calculated, and he wore a plain white shirt. Only one thought crossed your mind, ���Were his lips always so rosy?’ Being so captivated by his morning beauty, you overlooked the basket in his hands. “Good morning Katt, I hope I didn’t wake you, but I’m just dropping by to give this to you, see it as a housewarming gift from both of us.” “I, that’s so sweet! You didn’t have to do that, really.” You hadn’t been able to put your finger on it last night but there was something about his eyes, whenever you looked into them you felt even more determined to keep him a secret, he was your own personal fairy, he was magical in every way, a midsummer’s night dream.

As soon as you heard your parents approaching you leaned in close to him, your breath catching the corner of his ear “I’m inviting you inside act like you don’t know me, I haven’t told my parents about you yet.” Seonghwa nodded “Why don’t you come inside?” Seonghwa was about to step inside, but he hesitated, unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched. Cursing on the inside he stepped inside, lured in by the way you looked over your shoulder, beckoning him to follow you.

Seonghwa had always been perceptive, he could sense when he wasn’t wanted and even though he knew you were ecstatic to see him the constant chattering of disembodied voices was headache inducing. Still Seonghwa smiled appearing as charming as ever when he introduced himself to your parents “I can’t stay for long, I just wanted to drop this off.” You couldn’t tell if his ethereal nature was lost on them or whether they were in awe of him like you were. They seemed almost robotic in their response; it was rare for them to be this polite to anybody especially a guy that you liked. He must have had that effect on people.

“Park Seonghwa, I just got back a couple of days ago, out of town for my grandmother’s knee operation, we made this together to welcome you. It’s sort of a tradition of ours.” Your mom stood, impressed by his reserved nature. She reached for the basket noticing that it was predominantly food combined with a few small ornaments. “It’s all homemade.” He had a habit of smiling whenever he mentioned his grandma and it made you wonder if she was just as kind as Seonghwa.

Your mom was somewhat shocked at the revelation she gestured to the wooden ornaments “These too?” “Yeah, we carved them out of oak.”  You knew her silence meant that she was impressed, marvelling at the fine lines etched into the wood but Seonghwa couldn’t read her. “It’s not a good luck charm or anything it’s just something good to look at.” “I think it’ll look perfect right here.” Pushing it into the centre of the dining room table your mom scooped the basket into her arms. “Wait, is that strawberry jam? Pass it here.” Passing you the old hand-painted jar she walked into your kitchen, you assumed they were probably going to wear his name out behind his back, it was apparent by the fact that your dad trailed after her instead of Gizmo or Prince.

“You’re so magical I was literally craving strawberry jam.”  Since they had walked away Seonghwa had relaxed, a flirty smile overtaking him as he noticed you struggling with the jar. The brush of his hand sent a jolt of flaming electricity down your spine, but it had yet to disappear as his cool hands lingered on top of yours. “I’ll get that.” Upon passing the jar to him it was open in one swift motion of his wrist, as a force of habit you reached for the jar “Oh my, I told you I got it.”  Placing the jar on the table he dipped the discarded butter knife into it collecting the jam. He did the following with such ease, tearing off the edge of an untainted pancake and smearing it with red.

It was naïve of you to think that Seonghwa was an innocent man, devoid of any form of lust, in the short time you had known him he was constantly dancing on the fine line of being an innocent boy and a man fully aware of everything around him. In short, he knew what he was doing when he brought the pancake up to your mouth. His fingers were skilfully positioned to ensure that once you took a bite the jam would dirty them, in any other situation he would avoid anything sticky or that wasn’t mud. Unlike those moments he knew that someone, you, would clean them for him. Instead of removing his fingers he let them linger until you licked the jam from his fingers.

“That’s it.”

Seonghwa’s words meant nothing at the time, but that was then after spending each day together that’s the reality you now had. You went from taking comfort into Tao’s kindness to chasing after Seonghwa, or at least you would be the one chasing after him if he didn’t show up at your house or approach you while you were out and lure you away. Following the situation with the strawberry jam Seonghwa was subtle. He would edge you by showing the side of him that was willing to kiss you silly, but for some reason he never did kiss you. He wanted to but not yet. So here you were in a section of the woods that you most likely ran past in a panic on that one night that you never wanted to relive. For once your life seemed like one every suburban teen lived even if you were a little too old to be considered one. You sat on the ratty tartan picnic blanket drowning in happiness.

Seonghwa made a habit of occasionally looking up at you from his section of the clearing, his hands littered with dirt as he ran his hands across the clumped dirt while he hummed along to the radio. “I swear I’m not holding it against you, but you did promise to help me.” “And I will I’m just thinking.” “About?” “Things… but more importantly why don’t you ever wear gloves when you do that?” “It depends on the answer that you want. I can give you sane or insane, take your pick.” “I’ll take the Seonghwa answer.” “Maybe it’s not the weirdest thing ever but I like the feeling of the dirt on my fingers so damp and cool, plus who needs cologne when the dirt makes you smell so fresh.” “Seonghwa, you know that half of the time I can’t tell whether you’re telling the truth or not.” “Yes, and I thought that’s what made you like me. I’m pretty sure you said you liked my Hozier charm, even though he probably copied my likeness.” Seonghwa prodded at the dirt again.

It was the second time you broke your promise to Seonghwa, you did say you would help him collect, mushrooms, acorns, and butterfly wings amongst other things. It sounded like a fun Saturday afternoon but as the time came you just wanted to admire how beautiful he was, a hobby that you discovered days after meeting him. The leaves blocked out the afternoon sun, providing you with the privacy you needed to make the next move.

Seonghwa looked straight ahead, despite being away from you he could hear the thudding in your chest, he sensed fear. But it didn’t make sense he hadn’t done it yet, immediate dread filled him. It seemed you had finally caught on to his lies. Instead of showing his exasperation he kept looking ahead at him, ignoring the centipede that crawled over him he pressed his palms into the wet dirt trying to calm himself. He didn’t feel fear, don’t get it twisted his dread came from the fact that the game of cat and mouse had been cut incredibly short.

“Seonghwa, I have something to tell you.” That’s not what he expected, he sighed in relief he had never been the best at reading human emotions. Bracing himself to be ever the gentleman you knew him to be Seonghwa rose from the ground, patting his on his upper thigh. Approaching you he kneeled peering into the deepest part of your eyes “What is it?” Honestly you were prepared to shout it out to him but having him this knocked all the air out of your body.

‘Get it together Katt’ you thought when he brought his hand up to your shoulder. His gaze was hooded waiting for permission, he was monstrous on the inside, but he wasn’t devoid of sympathy even if it was false in nature.

“I didn’t keep my promise.” “You silly thing, you can always start by searching over there.” “Not that promise… You told me the night we met that you wanted a friend, I owed it to you, and I can’t do it.” He thought he knew how this was going to end, yet you had him stumped. “None of this makes any sense Katt.”

“I don’t know how else to say this Seonghwa, I love you and that’s it.”

If Seonghwa knew how to feel guilt he would have but that wasn’t the way of the incubus, then again, he didn’t know whether he ever acted like his kind. As far as he knew he was the only one who played with his victims before devouring their lustful souls. It was the thrill of the chase he wanted more than anything. After your confession you had looked away from him, your nerves had gotten the best of you. But by the time you looked back up at him your heart that you had so lovingly given to him got caught in your throat. Your first reaction was to scream so you did, but over the loud radio and his hand pressed against your throat there was no way that scream would grace his presence.

Looking ahead all, you could do was shudder at the man in front of you, though he no longer looked like a living man. His skin was light pewter, coated in thick crackling mud that hardened across his arms, except for the mud on his finger which smeared against your skin. And his eyes? Oh, his eyes were something, even in your terrified state you wanted to swim in his too cold to be orange and the too hot to be blue eyes.

“Sshh little one, if you listen to me I… Well, I doubt you’ll be getting out of here anytime soon. But don’t fret.” The creature between you clicked his tongue against his partially sharpened teeth, but he faltered as you gurgled out a panicked gasp. “Katt, Katt, Katt what am I ever going to do with you. You betrayed my trust; you said you would promise to be my friend yet you’re looking at me like I’m a monster. Seonghwa leaned in his cool breath tickling the edge of your ear. “I couldn’t sense lust like I did when I first met Pheobe, she was lying there inside of the string circle oh so desperate. But let me tell you this. I didn’t want her. I wanted you.” Seonghwa released you and to his surprise you didn’t run, and it warmed him. After all, Seonghwa truly felt like he wasn’t like any other incubus, he didn’t know love, he thrived on fear, but you had captivated him. So, he intended to use the time he had with you to present you with the offer of a lifetime.

“Seonghwa, please I don’t want to die like this.” Seonghwa brought both of his hands up again but this time he cupped your face “Don’t be sorry sweetheart, you have no reason to fear me. You’re lucky she was so far north, if she was in any other part of the forest she could have easily summoned San, Mingi or Hongjoong and trust me they wouldn’t have let you leave. It’s still me.” It was frankly insane, this had to be one of your elaborate nightmares. “Katt, I was willing to kill you, but not now, I have other plans. I just want you to hear me out but first I would like you to enlighten me. Tell me… why were you so keen to want me?”

The urge to run was still present but looking at him you still managed to see the man you fell in love with, it was odd to still love something like him but his voice, this everything was enough to have you chasing after him. “I thought I finally found the person who truly understands me, I thought you would fool me into liking this stupid town but turns out I was the stupid one.”

“If you’re a fool then I am as equally so for I have a proposal.” His eyes were flickering like two sleepy flames ready to die out, you would have run but one thing was keeping you where you were, the growing warmth in his touch.

“I recall each word you uttered to me, you want the nightmares to stop, you want the voices to stop. What if I said I could help you?” Your throat was ashen dry, so you gave up on answering him, but your eyes said it all. “Instead of making a deal with the devil I would like you to consider making a deal with an incubus. Even if you failed to keep your promises, I know you will be able to keep this one.” At first you had assumed that your compliance was a way of survival but as strange, sick, and twisted as it sounded your heart already found a way to love him. “Tell me about this deal.”

Today was a day of firsts and Seonghwa finally had the pleasure of saying that he had experienced resting his head against that of someone he would have loved if he were human. “If you agree to do this, let me bed you out here let me give you a part of myself I can guarantee that no one in this town, human, demon, or ghost will harm you. I will protect you Katt, I will take away all the noise and all your nightmares if you let me.” “Please do it.”

He crashed his lips onto yours, you savoured the taste. It was rough but knowing Seonghwa or whoever this creature was it was safety. Bringing your arms up you clasped them around him encouraging him to dip his body down. “I’m trying hard Katt, but I want to taste you.” “I didn’t think incubuses cared about their victims.” “You’re mistaken you’re definitely mine but a victim? Of course not.” Seonghwa’s touch seemed to transition from stone cold to warm and comforting with each lingering kiss. After dragging them across each inch of your body he unbuttoned your black and orange cardigan. One, two or three kisses and you were addicted, it was hard to tell as each kiss bled into the other. Instead of letting the cardigan fall off your shoulder Seonghwa hooked the edge of it with his finger, dragging it down. Expecting more gentle touches you were startled by the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bare skin, ever the mystic forest fairy he seemed to be he made roses bloom in his wake.

You had snuck through the back door this time, another faint smile gracing your lips, another difference was the fact that your parents were home this time. They remained optimistic, you were bright and talkative over the past few weeks, but this time you walked straight past them. Taking a seat on the couch you stared at the black screen ahead of you, you looked a mess, but you loved it. Your eyes were too cold to be orange and too hot to be blue, the mud was beginning to crack on your skin but probably the thing you were the most grateful for was the fact that Seonghwa kept his promises, the voices in your head ceased to exist and for a split second you could see Seonghwa sitting next to you.

“Whatever I feel for you Katt know it’s the most powerful thing in this waking world.” His words melted away along with his smoky figure. Staring ahead of the screen you couldn’t help but sigh as you rubbed your head before laughing, that was a habit you could stop now. The pain and the voices ceased thanks to him. As you closed your eyes, reliving the sensation of Seonghwa’s body on yours, his tongue wrapped around your most sensitive areas and his hands scratching down your back you closed your eyes. All that was heard was the tv turning on as the same ancient host was brought back to life.

“I will let you in on a little secret, listen closely. Sometimes love and terror can prove to be as beautiful as one another, we chase love because we fear that we will be alone but some of us look fear incarnate in the eyes and we fall in love. Next door to that everyday neighbourhood, that American apple pie life, is a forest. And some of us let curiosity get the better of us, but it’s certainly not all bad for we find new life by running away from the old. The piercing yowling of the ghosts cease to exist, because Katt looked evil in the eye and hidden underneath his heaving breath Katt heard a faint thud of a heartbeat."

all rights reserved to ppoppokari

[reigningqueenofwords]

Be Thankful

Pairing: Steve x Reader Word count: 1,353

Read on AO3

Part 8 of Looking for the Captain

By the time that Steve knocked on your door that evening, you’d already changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He paused at the door when you opened it, bowls in hand. “Is that my shirt?” He asked, eyebrow raised. “It looks like my shirt.” 

You looked down at it, then back at him. “I dunno. It was tangled in my laundry and it looked comfy. I figured maybe next time it was in the laundry it would get back to its owner.” You shrugged, letting him in. “How awkward was it after I left?” You asked. 

He sighed, handing you your ice cream. “Very, very awkward.” He admitted. Which was putting it mildly to him.

“Oh no.” You groaned, getting comfortable on your bed. “What happened?” 

“First off, he asked me if I have a thing for ‘his daughter’.” He chuckled lightly as you scrunched your nose. “I asked him if he had to word it that way, and pointed out that you’re your own person, and an adult.” He explained, watching you slowly take a bite of your ice cream. “He then called you his little girl-”

You made a face. “Ew.” You said softly. That was just wrong. 

“And said you’re off limits.” He finished. “I told him that he’s like my brother but this is between me and you, and told him you’d made some good points. About the whole me being on ice thing, and him knowing I’m not some random guy. I’m not abusive, and he knows I’m a good guy.” 

“Well, you are.” You smiled. “What did he have to say about that?” You were really curious. Bucky didn’t seem to be the type to back down. 

“Nothing.” 

You stared at him. “Nothing?” That seemed odd. “He seems very stubborn. I was expecting that he would try to counter that.” 

Steve nodded, finally getting comfortable. “Me, too.” 

“But, enough about that grumpy old man.” You nudged him lightly. “I believe we have a movie to watch.”

“What did you pick?” He asked, glancing at you, almost worried. 

You smirked. “I nearly picked American Pie, but I don’t think you’re ready for pie fucking.” You laughed as he choked on the bite of ice cream he was eating. 

“I’m tempted to say ‘language’, but I can’t think of how else you’d get that across that wouldn’t sound gross.” He wiped his mouth. “But, thank you. You’re right. I would like to not see that.”

“I actually picked something from the 50s.” You told him shyly. “I figured it would have been something if you’d had a ‘normal’ life back then and had kids.” You’d been trying to figure out something to watch, and it had caught your eye. 

He was surprised at that. It was a far cry from SAW, that was for sure. “What movie?” 

“Peter Pan. It’s from 1953.” Taking a bite of your ice cream, you hoped that he didn’t find that weird. He’d missed out on a lot of normal stuff, which wasn’t fair. He totally came across as the type of guy who would have settled down after the war and been a dad.

Steve surprised you with a soft smile. “That’s sweet. Put it on.” 

Once you’d both finished your ice cream, you’d set the bowls on your night stand and moved to use his lap as a pillow. Just over half way, he realized you were asleep. He’d let you sleep, and once the movie was over, he’d try to move you and tuck you in. 

He just didn’t expect to also nod off towards the end. He was that relaxed. 

Bucky went to see you, wanting to get to know you. Beyond fighting with you about being an adult. Reaching your room, he could hear music and remembered you were watching a movie with Steve. He gently knocked, and opened the door when he didn’t get an answer. He saw the pair of you asleep and glanced at the tv. The last thing he expected you to choose was what appeared to be an old cartoon. 

Quietly shutting the door, he sighed. He felt the need to hit something, he was beyond frustrated. “JARVIS, is Natasha awake?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Can you ask her to meet me in the training room?” He hoped to get some of this frustration out, and hopefully get her thoughts on everything. She wouldn’t hold back. He needed that. Natasha had seen you and Steve together more than he had, afterall. 

“She will be right there, sir.” 

Nat came in, dressed to train. “I take it something’s on your mind, Barnes?” She knew him too well. “Something happen with the people that are threatening her?” 

“They’re too quiet right now. That’s why I’m here.” He sighed, pulling his hair up into a low ponytail. “But that’s not what had me asking you here.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “This is about Rogers.” There was no question, it was a statement. 

He let out an unamused chuckle. “Yeah.” He nodded. “ Rogers .” 

“Alright. Let’s talk about it while I kick your ass.” She smirked. 

Before anything else was said, they began to spar, falling easily into it. “I know she has feelings for him.” He started, ducking. “I could tell by how she looks at him.” He was clearly upset about it. “I asked him if he had feelings for her, but he said that’s between them.” 

“Because it is.” Her voice gave little hint that they were actively sparring. 

“She’s my daughter!” He reminded her. 

She was unphased. “And?” 

“He’s like my brother.” 

“And? He’s not actually your brother. He’s a good guy, Barnes.” Like he needed reminding. “He can keep her safe. Say we keep her out of danger this time, and we train her to defend herself, what’s to say that in 10 years someone worse won’t go after her? She’s talented, and picks up fighting easily, but she’s not us.” 

He paused. “You’ve been training her?” He let out a noise as she got him in the stomach. 

“Since right after she moved in.” She informed him, locking her thighs around his neck. “We all take turns. With me she does stretching, cardio, and we alternate between weights and self defense. On her own she does yoga.” She slammed him onto a mat. 

“Does she train tomorrow?” He worked on getting himself free from her thighs. 

“Yeah, with me.” 

“I’ll be here.” He wanted to see what this training was. “Is tomorrow defense or weights?”

“Defense.” She said simply. 

Bucky didn’t like how things were going. This wasn’t what he pictured when he sent you to find Steve. He didn’t want you trained. He didn’t want you falling for his best friend. None of it. “I found them asleep together.” He told her. 

“Okay?” She didn’t see the harm. “They’re sleeping.” 

“It’s so weird to me. She won’t listen to me, even if I am her father.” 

“She’s a lot like you. Stubborn and hard headed.” She threw a punch. “And put yourself in her shoes. She’s lived her whole life thinking you’re some deadbeat, and then out of nowhere you send her a letter about being in danger. Then you show up expecting her to act like she’s known you her whole life. She’s an adult. She’s in college for pre-med.” He had to understand that. “I’d try to be her friend more than anything. Not some authority figure. Let her make her own choices, and just be there for her.” 

While she was probably right, he didn’t know how he was supposed to do that. “How am I, as her father, supposed to not say anything about her tiny dresses? Or being like that with my best friend?” He asked. 

“Remind yourself that to her having a father is some abstract idea.” She stopped sparring, just watching him. “The more you try to act like one, the more she will push back. It might just make her do more things that piss you off.” She gave his arm a pat. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders, be thankful.”

[bits-and-babs]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 — 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 (𝐅𝐓. 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓)

-> OCT. 15 : CUCKOLDING

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. p in v sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, alter system

WC: 1004

[Kinktober Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Your skin is slick with sweat, knees and shins sticking to the bedsheets with Steven situated between both of them, your hair damp against your skull as you grind your hips against Steven’s cock. The veiny shaft is settled between your pussy lips and each grind smears your juices across the length of him, your clit catching against his flushed head.

“C-Christ-“ he chokes out, hands settled awkwardly on your hips as you continue to tease him with long, languid strokes, “That’s- Oh-“

“What is he saying, Steven?” You muse, throwing a glance over your shoulder at the mirror you’d set at the foot of the bed, a smirk plastered on your lips. You’re still surprised at yourself for having the balls to attempt a little scene like this, fucking Steven in clear view of Marc while Steven was fronting.

“Ah- he said- oh shitttt…” he moans out, losing his train of thought as the opening to your pussy catches slightly on the swollen head of his dick. “He- He said you’re in t-trouble-“

Sighing softly, you nod your head slowly, reaching behind you to play with Steven’s balls, raking your nails against them gently so his back arches off the bed with a particularly high pitched moan. “Mhmm. I must say, I expected that. A little disappointing.”

Steven chokes out as you take his cock in your hand, slowwwly sinking down onto him with a soft hum. “He’s gonna have to do better than that if he wants me to stop.”

Steven grunts, pushing his hips up into your own to push deeper into you, mind clearly having gone fuzzy at just how good you feel. “Ah- He said that- that he’s not sure it’s hav-having the effect you think it is-“

“What does that mean?” You smirk, enjoying the patchiness of Steven’s voice, the way he contorted in pleasure as you slowly lifted your hips up.

“H-Hah- Marc- He said he likes the view!” Steven scrambles to get the words out, and exhales a sigh of relief as you momentarily pause your movements, taken aback by Marc’s admission. You’d expected him to get angry, anticipated him becoming protective. This… This certainly wasn’t an outcome you had predicted.

“He does?” You muse now, throwing another glance over your shoulder at the silvery-mirror. You know damn well that he’s there, watching every move- so you decide to put on a bit of a show.

Placing your palm flat on Steven’s sternum, you force his torso against the mattress and prevent him from rising up in bliss or in an attempt to avoid your ministrations. When you’re certain you can keep him down, you begin to circle your hips slowly, bouncing slightly on his cock. Steven’s grip on your upper thighs is bruising, a weak cry ripping from his throat as you use him.

“H-He told me to tell you that he’s-“ Steven, even in his desperate situation, stops the words from escaping him.

“He’s what?” You push, grabbing ahold of his chin and forcing him to look you in the eye. He whimpers, eyebrows pulled up tight and mouth in a subtle ‘o’ shape.

“Said he’s gonna touch himself to this view!” He spat out quickly, holding on tight to your hips as you raise your eyebrow at him. Marc really liked to watch this much?

Without much thought behind your decision, you begin to ride Steven’s cock in earnest, rising your hips up by balancing on your shins either side of his waist before settling back down onto him with force, taking him deep. He’s rubbing against something devastatingly good inside you, tremors in your thighs making it harder for you to maintain the steady pace.

Bowing your head, you focus hard on ensuring you keep a significant pace as you grind down onto Steven. With your eyes off him, Steven uses this opportunity to help raise your hips each time, before pushing you *hard* onto his dick-

“That’s it, good,” his accent twists to that of an American twang, his grip hard and purposeful now. It takes a moment for your brain to shift its focus from your impending orgasm to the fact that Marc has switched with Steven, taking control of the body again.

Your eyes snap open, looking up quickly into Marc’s heavy lidded gaze, a smirk playing on his lips at your utter shock.

“What? Don’t like that you’ve gotta face the consequences now?” He muses. You open your mouth to answer with a snarky comment of some kind, but he doesn’t even allow for that. Digging his fingers into your soft flesh, Marc ruts his hips up to meet your hips each time they sink onto his dick, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Don’t like it when you gotta pay the price, do you baby?” He smirks as you told your head back, moaning loudly as he seems to focus in on that earth-shatteringly pleasurable spot deep inside you. It’s mind numbing, and you find yourself struggling to answer with a sound that even remotely resembles a word of English.

“Come on baby- Come on,” he pushes you, one of his hands coming loose from your side to grind the pad of his thumb up against your swollen clit. It’s all you need to tip you over the edge, cumming so hard around Marc’s cock that your vision went white, jaw dropping in a silent moan.

One, two, three thrusts and Marc follows suit, growling out as he cums inside you, coating your insides with white, hot ropes. You both pant heavily, your nails digging into Marc’s pectorals and leaving little, crimson crescent-moons

Settling back against the pillows on the bed, Marc smirks as he watches his cum leak from your swollen pussy, pooling at the base of his cock. He keeps you there, enjoying the view as long as he could before you ultimately succumb to exhaustion.

“I dare you to do that again, Sweetheart.”

“I just might,” you admit sleepily, “You seemed to enjoy it.”

END

@in-for-a-pennyx @hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @markywithissues @welcometostayingawake @inklore @foxilayde @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke

[romanoffsbish]

Love is For Children ; Hope is For Suckers

Yelena Belova x Fem!R

Prompt | 2,084 Words

“After everything you've done, I still love you. with all I am.”

Warnings: Angst/No Happy Ending, Poison, Blood, Death

"What are you doing here?" Yelena was in a state of total shock, you looked different, she admired the features of your beautiful face, and how the fresh haircut you got framed it well.

"Work," you cooly relayed, then reached out to hand her the manila folder in the hopes that the woman would take the hint and depart, because seeing her after a year hurt you far more than you thought it would, or that you'd care to admit. You've been fine, convincing yourself you were over her, but apparently not.

"I-I miss you Y/N," her tone was soft, but her words were heavy with a sense of pleading, "Please, can we try again? I want to fix us."

"There never was much of an us to start with Lena, it was a well calculated ruse that got me trapped into this lifestyle I never wanted."

——

"Don't say that!" Yelena cried out, "It was real to me Y/N, I love you, please tell me I'm not too late, we can't be over for good, please..."

"After everything you've done, I still love you. with all I am," Yelena's heart stopped at your confession, a hope that had once fizzled out began to bloom from deep within her chest. "I'm just not sure I'll ever be able to trust you again Belova." And just like that the deceiving hope died, because the damage she regretfully caused to your heart appears to be irreparable.

"For the sake of this hit succeeding I can pretend though," you shrugged your shoulders, then shoved the folder into her hand before shutting the door to your temporary room.

Yelena frowned, then walked across the hall to slam her temporary door shut. She hadn't expected to see you, well, ever again honestly. It appears that Valentina, the root of all of the blonde's heartache, had a different plan here.

"Why her?" Yelena's tone held a unmistakable edge as she spoke to your mutual former boss, and the woman on the other line giggled, "Yelena, you both still owe me a debt, so she has no choice but to be useful when I say so."

"Double mine Valentina, please, leave her be."

"This isn't a charity auction, she has two more missions, and then she's free for good."

"I hate you," Yelena growled, only to be met with a a soundboard of mocking laughter, "Yeah, until I put a fat check in your hand, then it's Valentina, who's my next hit."

"No, my debt is up after tonight Valentina, and I will not be back, you can count on that," she shouted, then instead of hanging up normally, she slammed the phone into the wall for what looked to be the same effect. "Glupaya suka."

(Stupid bitch)

—

The following morning came fast for the blonde who didn't get a wink of restful sleep. Her eyes never even closed, left to dry out as she stared aimlessly at the popcorn ceiling until the rising sun managed to break the precise focus she had on the bumpy top wall.

Not long after the rude awakening did her alarm go off, as she was in the shower, trying to wash away the look of exhaustion in the hopes that she'll look somewhat human again. The loud beep soured her further, no longer was she listening to the joyous tune: American Pie.

Fortunately it timed out as she was stepping out, her song now resumed as she works on drying off and stepping into her white suit. After twisting two front braids into her bun she made her way to the kitchen to down a mug of coffee with a shot of tequila mixed right in, while sloppily eating a blueberry muffin.

*Are you ready to go?*

Yelena sighed as she picked up her phone, the last thing she wanted to do was go to a party with you on her arm in a state of falsehoods.

*I'll meet you in the hotel lobby Y/N*

What the blonde wanted was your forgiveness, then after she won that she'd work towards total reunification, but as of right now it's only a fruitless dream for the heartbroken blonde.

—

"Did you read the files?"

"Y/N, this isn't my first hit, obviously yes."

"No need to be hostile Belova, I'm just trying to ensure that you're on your a game since I can smell the tequila on your fucking breath," you hissed at the woman you still somehow loved.

Yelena dejectedly sunk into the passenger seat, "I'm sorry Y/N, really," she muttered sadly, and you honestly felt your heart breaking.

"I know," you softly replied, your anger fizzling out just as fast as it surged, "We have to get through this event Lena, we're almost free."

Yelena nearly burst into tears at the sight of you briefly smiling at her, it was incredibly warm, and something that she dearly missed. Instead she returned the gesture and nodded.

Holding onto all this anger wasn't fair, you've been working solo for Val for over a year now, and you learned just how vindictive she can be. You'd always had a target on your back being a thrown away super soldier, the experiment was not a failure, but the rehabilitated program was thrown out when too much heat fell on the America agency running it. You were put into a witness protection of sorts, but of course the Director of the CIA would easily find you.

You knew Lena didn't want to hurt you, at first you were just a job to her, seducing you into this life was her assignment, but as she fell for you it was no longer a mark she was willing to work. She tried to undo it, but she only made it worse, and Valentina told you before she was able to, and so you are left to blame her.

Yelena even thought you hated her, but if you hated her this mission would be a walk in the park instead of a soul crushing reminder of all the good you ever had then subsequently lost.

After a few moments of silent driving you finally reached the grand ball, you pulled up in front of the massive place, handed the keys to the valet, then for the sake of appearances you rounded the car and offered Yelena your arm, "You ready to go in Mrs. Smith?"

Yelena looked at you unamused, you knew how much she hated the bland undercover names. She always used to grumble over it to you:  "Why can't we be the Bensons? Or maybe we could be the LongBottoms, you'd be Fanny!"

It always ended the same though, she'd pout, and you'd kiss her softly, but then you'd still say no. So the Smiths or Allens it usually was.

"We are too beautiful to be the Smith's," she whispered in your ear as you two entered the venue through the extensive security check. You softly giggled, and nudged her side, and for just a moment it felt like nothing changed as the blonde stared at your uplifted face.

Then it was back to business as your face neutralized while observing the room filling with people. Yelena held you even tighter when the perp was in your direct sight, she wasn't sure why, but her gut was telling her to run.

"May I have this dance?" your hand reached for hers, and she gladly accepted it, because she realized that a moment of pretend happiness was better than nothing, "Yes, but I lead."

Yelena watched your eyes narrow, but she was not going to back down, and you were not all that worried about her declaration as you let her pull your body flush against hers, and with a slow pace set you eventually waltzed around the room. Through the art of dance the two of you were actually communicating. Yelena would dip you whenever she felt the hallway was worth keeping an eye on, and she'd spin you when near the guys who were packing.

Then, in the heat of it all she kissed you, the only message relayed was one of love, and even though you were on a mission, you indulged the blonde, because your heart was fluttering in ways you never imagined it would again.

"He's on the move," you panted softly into her mouth, then you quickly dropped her hand, "Keep close, but remember, don't hover."

Yelena watched you walk in the same direction,  slipping down the same hallway, and this was the part where she had to rely on faulty comms, and your ability to knock out an entire room. This was a dance the two of you had been accustomed to, but it always left her uneasy, and as she heard your blood curdling screams through her comms she knew why that was.

It all happened so fast honestly, one second you're fighting a handful of goons without even breaking a sweat, then the sleazy guy you're after emerges from the shadows with a dark smirk, and when you saw a green vile and a needle in his hands you knew you were fucked.

The need to warn Yelena was high, but you were so paralyzed with fear, that the only warning she got was your pained response before your body slumped to the floor in a state of shock.

The men left the vile on the ground as they rushed out before Yelena could get to them. That moment came within seconds, Yelena barreled into the room with her gun at the ready, but slipping it past security was pointless because they were gone, and judging by the way your body convulsed you were next.

"Strychnine," she reads with a wobbling lip, it was a commonly used punishment back in the red room to inject the girls with this when they failed to meet Dreykov's standards. Yelena's cheeks became stained with bitter tears as the memories of watching those girls die replayed in her mind on a loop, your fate was sealed...

But you were a super soldier, so she wasn't going to just give up without a fight, her phone sat beside her running a search on how to reverse the poison while she worked to get you to wake back up, you had to wake back up.

"Y/N, detka, wake up," she tapped your cheeks, causing your slumped head to go side to side, "Please, I need you to wake up," she pleaded, hands desperately shaking your shoulders.

"Y/N, if you die, then so do I!" Yelena was desperate, so she began to attempt chest compressions, and after a second you were oddly enough, choking on air, "Okay Juliet..."

"What? No, I'm Romeo," Yelena gasps in offense at your ludicrous insinuation, "You're the clear Juliet here Y/N, moya krasavitsa."

(My beautiful girl)

"Juliet had a chance to live, and she gave it up when she saw her love laid dead beside her," you quietly reminded her, Yelena's smile was bright, but her dull eyes were unmistakable.

"Well, I was hoping I could get Romeo to safety, because I don't give up that easily."

You smiled sadly, "Hope is for suckers."

"Then a sucker I am, because I'm hopelessly in love with you, so please hold on," she admits through tears that slowly run down your arm soaking your cuff as you weakly cup her cheek.

"Love is for children, and ours was hopeless," you managed to choke out before you were actually spluttering over your own blood.

Yelena heard the sound of heels clicking from behind her, but she spared the wicked woman no glance, her eyes too fixated on your face. 

Your lips were parted as tiny, short wheezes slowly left you, Yelena pressed her soft lips to your chapping set, "Mne zhal', chto ya podvel tebya," you unconsciously smiled against her in your state of delirium. "YA tebya lyublyu."

(I'm sorry I failed you / I love you)

Suddenly your lips started to lose feeling, and your body slumped into her lap, "Please, detka don't go," she whimpered, causing you to jolt back into a temporary state of consciousness as you whispered so gently that it was a struggle for her to even hear you, "I love you too Lena," and what followed your words was devastating silence, you gave your final breath for her.

An unwelcome hand gripped her shoulder, "If you want revenge for her, you'll stick with me."

Yelena nodded, then listened to the retreating click of heels, "YA ub'yu tebya tochno tak zhe."

(I will kill you just the same)

———

[yunggoblin]

Warm Pie - Crowley (18+)

Pairing: Crowley x Female!Reader

Summary: Coming home from a three day hunt Dean finds that his pie has been fucked with, literally. You make two fresh pies, only to catch the person who’s been destroying the pies with his dick later that night.

Warnings: 18+, Cussing, Smut, Pie Fucking, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,657

You walked inside of the bunker, exhausted, worn out and sore from a three day hunt, taking out a vampire’s nest. You always try to remind yourself that hunting isn’t always fun and games, sure it has its ups like saving people. Then there was the down side about it, it didn’t put money in your pocket and you weren’t getting any younger as the years rolled by. You sighed tiredly, sliding the heavy backpack full of clothes off your shoulders. Shuffling down the hallway, leaving a trail of your items behind you heard Sam huffed.

“Really, Y/N? You can’t hang your things up?“ Sam questioned as he grabbed the bag that was randomly lying in the middle of the room and hung it up. 

You twirled around at your older brother. "I’m tired, I’m covered in vampire blood from head to toe.” You hissed, after staying up for three days and two nights you were in no mood to be lectured at. “Samuel.” You strictly said, pinching the bridge of your nose and eyes closed. Taking a deep breath before you speak. “I would like to relax for once, just an hour or so.” You gritted your teeth, obviously cranky from lack of sleep from the past three days. “Now please, stop complaining. I’ll clean my mess up when I get done from the shower.” You turned around making your way towards your room. 

Once you made your way into the bathroom and stripped out of the bloody clothing you stepped into the steamy hot shower. Sighing softly in relaxation and letting the water run down your body, you couldn’t help but feeling you were being watched. You gripped the curtain and quickly poked your head out to see no one in sight, just the steam fogging up the mirror and swirling around the bathroom getting sucked up by the blowing vent. Shrugging your shoulders you went back to taking your shower and scrubbing off the redness of the blood from your body. 

”Y/N!“ You heard your name being called as you made your way down the hallway towards the kitchen. 

“What’s up, Dean?” You asked as you wrapped a towel around your head, having your damp hair up. You got dressed into some fresh pajamas after your steaming hot shower. Your feet pitter pattered into the kitchen, glad to not be wearing bulky boots.

"Did you do this?“ Dean asked angrily, pointing towards the table. Your eyes made their way towards the pie that had a hole in the middle of it and was a bit sloppy along with two slight dented circles below the large hole. 

You arched an eyebrow wondering what happened to the poor apple pie. Your mind instantly thought of that one scene from American Pie only to have you bursting out laughing. "One of you boys get lonely over the nights?” You teased, placing your hand over your mouth snickering. 

"It’s not funny! Who would do this to a poor pie!?“ Dean pouted and crossed his arms. "Sam, did you do this?” Dean snapped dark eyes darting towards his youngest brother. 

Sam quickly placed his hands up in self defense. “I didn’t do it.” Sam quickly said. 

"And I don’t have a dick to do that.“ You laughed at the deformed pie in the middle of the table. "Plus, it would make more sense if it was you, you sure it wasn’t you who did this?” You questioned. “You’re the one who loves pie so damn much.” You grinned. “Was it like this when you bought it?”

"I might love pie, but not so much to fuck it!“ Dean snapped, making you burst out laughing. “No it wasn’t like this when I bought it!” Dean frowned, upset that someone assaulted the dessert. “I bought it before we went on our hunt and it was in the fridge the whole time.” A frown was settled upon Dean’s lips.

"Maybe Castiel was confused and did it.” You shrugged. “Dean I’ll make you another pie, so stop your whining.” You said going towards the covers and pulling out the ingredients for the pie. You pulled out cherries to make a different flavor this time. “But it’s going to be after dinner tomorrow, I’m going to bed soon.” You said, yawning with a stretch. You felt bad for Dean not getting a delicious dessert after a long hunt but you were tired and wanted to rest before doing anything else.

Dean huffed and crossed his arms. “Fine, I don’t care as long as I get my pie.” He muttered and with that, the three of you said ‘good night’ and headed in different directions of the bunker and went to your rooms. 

The next day came rolling by. You pulled out the freshly baked cherry pies, placing them both on top of the stove waiting for them to cool off. Quickly slapping Dean’s hand away as he tries to dip his fingers in the hot crust to get a taste.

"Dinner first, Dean-O.“ You smiled. "Okay, so I made two pies this time if one gets destroyed.” You laughed softly and looked at him. “But, what I don’t get is who would want to fuck a pie?” You questioned not getting the full concept of the point of doing it. “Does it feel good or something?” You questioned realizing the pink shade on Dean’s cheeks.

"Well uh, (Y/N). They say the only thing that you can compare pussy to is well… Warm pie.“ He coughed out awkwardly which made your cheeks quickly heat up. 

"Oh, wow. Uh, that is very awkward.” You said trying to laugh it off. He nodded and Sam came in with burgers he had got from the nearest food joint. 

"Awesome, dinner time.“ Dean smiled and quickly chowed down his thick burger from his favorite restaurant so he could get a piece of pie. 

You took bites and slowly chewed the burger, staring at the wall still trying to figure out why anyone would thrust their dick into a warm pie, were they really desperate and who in the hell was it? Sam, Dean or Castiel? One of them was lying but another was too embarrassed to admit it. You slowly swallowed the food and realized that someone was calling your name. 

"Huh?” You asked confused after being pulled out of your thoughts. You saw Dean by the pies ready to dig into one of them, fork in hand. “Yeah, go ahead.” You said and wrapped your sandwich up, not even eating half of it. Sam noticed and frowned towards you.

"You okay?“ Sam questioned you.

Nodding with a response. "Yeah, just tired.” Lie. You were quite disturbed about the pie from last night that you didn’t even want a piece. “I’m going to head to bed.” You announced and made your way towards the door. “Enjoy the dick flavored pie.” You joked about making Dean gag. 

"That’s not funny!“ Dean exclaimed. 

You rolled over on your back sighing heavily, staring up at the white ceiling above you. You were tired but not tired enough to fall asleep. Turning your head slightly to see the red lines on the clock that made up numbers ‘2:36 a.m’. You sighed once more and rolled over on your side, closing your eyes trying to force yourself to fall asleep. 

You quickly jolted up as you heard something in the kitchen, your eyes darted towards the clock. 2:45 a.m. You quickly slipped on your pink fluffy slippers and grabbed your knife that was wedged between your mattresses and box spring. Slipping past the door and tip toeing your way down the hall towards the dark kitchen. Cold sweat ran through your body as your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t control your shaky breath as you exhaled. You knew Sam and Dean were asleep, after pie, a good food joint and beers in their stomach they were out cold for the night.

"Oh fuck.” You heard a low voice grunt out. You stopped walking towards the kitchen, your face heating up realizing what it was. Soon sloppy thrusting was echoing throughout the kitchen. This was your chance to catch the pie fucker. You leaned against the door frame, knife in hand ready to strike if something goes wrong. 

"Fuck baby, just like that.“ You heard a moan escaping the stranger’s lips. 

"Is that better than pussy?” You teased, flickering on the kitchen lights to finally see who it was. Your eyes widen to see The King Of Hell, his black dress pants wrapped around his ankles, leaning up against the counter, left hand gripping the edge of the counter, right hand on the back of the pie pan, cock buried deep in the cherry pie. There stood the King himself, speechless to see the youngest Winchester that caught him red handed. 

"I uh.” He paused for a moment only to swallow the lump in his throat. “I can explain.“ Crowley’s thick voice was rough from the lust, his accent deeper. 

You blushed at the sight of him, who knew that he was the one who did it. "You’re the King of Hell and you choose to have a warm cherry pie to fuck other than these female demons who would be more than glad to be on your cock?” You questioned. Crowley was still standing there, not knowing what to say. Now both of his hands are on the back of the pie pan, cock still balls deep in the pie. 

"So tell me,“ You begin and place the knife down on the table, eyes still on the demon. "why do it?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side. 

"Really, is it not noticeable? I’m doing it to mess with Dean.“ He flashed a smirk. "He loves pie, what’s the best thing to piss him off? Fuck with his pie, literally.” He blushed under his beard and looked down at the pie and back up at you. “I apologize for you seeing me like this.” He said, clearing his throat. “I thought everyone was asleep.” With a snap of his fingers, he was cleaned up and the destroyed pie was on the table. There were holes from where his cock had been penetrating into and the perfect crust smashed into the bottom of the pan. 

You flashed a smile and walked towards the pie and dipping your fingers into it and took them out, up towards your lips and suckled on them, your tongue dragging along the cherry pie filling that was covering your digits. You could hear Crowley’s breath hitch in his throat. “Hmm, tastes even sweeter.” You flashed him a smirk. The demon gulped. You noticed his black pants that were now around his waist beginning to tighten as his cock began to get hard, pitching a tent. You eyed back up at him, smirk still on your lips.

“So, if you’d like you can bury your cock in something else.” You wink and with that Crowley took as an invite. “I don’t know if it’ll be sweet as pie” You teased him only for the demon to be in front of you in a blink of an eye, gripping the back of your neck and forcing you to be bent over the table. He tugged down your pajama pants and panties, exposing your ass. He growled, noticing the wetness in your panties. 

"So wet for me hmm?“ He growled, the hand behind your neck leaving to cup your cunt from behind, your lips being a perfect display.

"Obviously, the sight of you thrusting your hips. Lovely view.” You giggled and quickly gasped out a moan as his hand came down, slapping your exposed cunt. 

“Be a good little girl and behave.“ He demanded making you nod your head ‘yes’, quickly. You heard him fiddling with his belt and soon heard his pants drop to the ground just. He placed the head of his cock against your wet folds only to push his head in and put out in a teasing manner. “Feels so good, darling.” 

You cried out clawing at the table, arching your back trying to push your hips back against him as he did it again. "Crowley, pleas-” That was when he roughly pushed in, no warning, no nothing. “Oh fuck!” You whimpered. He quickly snaked his hand to your mouth and covered it. 

"Don’t want to wake your brothers, now do we love?“ He grunted in between thrusts. You could have sworn he was going to break the table by the way he thrust into you the right way, quick and swift thrusts snapped against your ass as he pumped inside of you faster.

He slowly moved his hand away and gripped your hips and shoved his whole length in more. "Oh god I’m going to come!” You whimpered out. He wrapped his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging at it making your head lean back.

"You’ll come when I say to come” He growled lowly. His thrust picking up makes the wooden table underneath you squeak. The legs of the table gave a screech as it went across the kitchen floor. With every thrust he got a moan out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He muttered as he planted kisses on your shoulder blade, the way his lips fluttered against your skin and his beard scratching your shoulder ad you shaking. 

Your cunt squeezed around Crowley’s cock as he dragged his dick out from your tight channel and pushed back in, the wet suction of your pussy echoing in the kitchen. “C- Crowley, your cock-” You choked out trying to tell him how good he felt inside of you but your mind was nearly fried from the lust and attention he was giving you.

“Oh, I know love.” Crowley said a bit too cockily, he indeed sold his soul to get a few inches below the belt and lucky for him it stayed like that even becoming the King of Hell. 

“Fuck, Y/N. I can feel your fucking cunt fluttering around my cock.” Crowley grunted admiring the scene in front of him as his cock disappeared inside of your cunt from behind. He watched as you let out soft sobs and silent moans so your brothers wouldn’t rush in to see what all the commotion was. Crowley smirked not knowing what Dean would be pissed more about, finding out Crowley was fucking his little sister or his pies. 

“Go ahead little girl, come, come all over my cock. Soak my cock with your sweet juices.” Crowley demanded, gripping your waists tightly as he started to jack hammer his hips roughly, his cock full force pushing in and pulling out of your velvet like cunt. Your loud moans had him glancing towards the kitchen door, worried that the older Winchesters would be running in.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes.” You chanted. “Crowley!” You cried out as your walls tightened and the coil in your lower belly snapped as you came undone on his thick cock. 

Crowley was panted heavily behind you, stilling his hips as he grunted out a moan while his creamy come squirted inside your sopping wet pussy. Crowley exhaled a breath as he leaned forward, his forehead resting on her back as they stayed there for a few seconds collecting your breaths. 

“That was the best I’ve had in well, let's say a very long time.“ Crowley chuckled lowly and slowly slid out of your pussy, he admired the mixed juices flowing out of your spazzing fucked pussy. You stood up and pulled up your pajama pants and panties up, having his come dribble out onto your panties.

"Better than warm pie?” You turned around, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, he was already dressed and a smirk on his face as you mentioned the pie.

"Better than warm pie.“ He confirmed.

Crowley's Masterlist

[leelee10898]

Well, aren't you a Lamb?

This is my first submission for @choicesflashfics using the prompt "I saw this and it reminded me of you." Since yesterday was Easter, this idea immediately popped into my head. I hope you enjoy. I've also added a little 'visual aid' to give you the full picture 🤣

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: TRR gang

Word count: 876

Warnings/content: language; silly fluff

It was Easter Sunday.  Riley wanted to share some of her American customs with her friends and family so Liam rented a huge cabin in upstate New York. Riley and Hannah got busy in the kitchen while Liam, Drake, and Maxwell ventured out into the nearby town for some necessities. Drake pulled the SUV into a parking spot and the three got out of the vehicle. "Ahhh. Smell that?" Drake inhaled, stretching his arms out. "That's the smell of fresh air right there." 

Liam grinned and shook his head. "This town suits you, Drake."  

Maxwell continued to sniff in the air. "I don't know Drake, all I smell is," he sniffed again. "Cinnamon. Oh man, that smells good." Maxwell took off towards the bakery. 

"Maxwell, wait-" Liam yelled. 

"Let him go Li. Let's go get the other stuff we need. We can collect Maxwell after we are done." 

Liam looked hesitantly toward the direction Max took off in. "I don't know Drake.." A barrage of bad scenarios played out in his mind. 

"Hell be fine. Let's go." 

Liam shook the thoughts from his mind and joined Drake. After Liam and Drake went to the Liquor store and grocery, they headed further into town to look for Maxwell.

"Well, I don't see any firey crashes, or loose wildlife roaming the streets. No ones running in fear, so it looks like a win." Drake teased. 

"We haven't found Maxwell yet, don't rush to conclusions " Liam sighed, Drake chuckled, clasping him on the back. Just as Maxwell emerged from the bakery, carrying a giant-sized sized pastry box. 

"Liam! Drake! I was just coming to find you guys. I got dessert for dinner!" Maxwell beamed. 

"Oh, that sounds wonderful Max. What did you get us?" Liam smiled trying to lift the box and sneak a peak. Maxwell quickly pulled the box out of Liam's reach. "Oh no Liam, it's a surprise.  I can't show you. You'll see at dinner, let's go." Maxwell turned on his heel and took off for the car. Liam stood rooted in place Drake coming up and standing next to him. 

"You want to know what's in that box don't you?" Drake snickered. 

"I shouldn't.  I really should but," 

"You do." Drake finished for him. 

"Yup." 

After a short drive, the guys made it back to the cabin. They helped Riley and Hannah put everything away and spent most of the day relaxing before it was time to eat.  After a large dinner, the group sat around the table before Hannah pulled a pie from the kitchen and placed it on the table. "I made a chocolate silk pie. I hope you love it." She smiled. 

"It looks delicious, Hannah. I can't wait to dig in." Riley licked her lips just asMaxwelll came barging into the dining room carrying the big box. He dropped it right down on the table making the table shake and some glasses fell over. 

"Finally. "Liam breathed out. It was finally time to find out what Maxwell had in the box. The contents plagued Liam the entire day while Drake teased him with his thoughts.  Exploding pasty, undercooked cookies, blood pudding, or dirt pudding equipt with real live worms were just a few ideas Drake tossed out. Liam shuddered at the thought. 

"What do we have here, Maxwell?" Riley quirked her brow.

"Well there we were in town when Drake was rambling on about fresh air but all I could smell was cinnamon.  So I ran into the bakery and found this." He gently tapped on the box. "I saw this and it reminded me of you." He smiled brightly at Drake. 

"Aww hell," Drake grunted as Liam peered closer in anticipation. Maxwell finally lifted the top of the box revealing a cake shaped like a lamb. It had blue jellybeans for eyes that started to melt and turn to jelly, one eye slid making it droop. Its nose, also a red jelly bean also melted, causing a bit of redness that resembled a  light coloring of blood just above the makeshift mouth, complete with a grouping of crooked, jagged, rotten teeth.  Hanna gasped and covered her eyes with her hands. 

"I talked the girls at the bakery into letting me redecorate his face. Doesn't it look just like Drake?" 

"The similarities are uncanny, Max." Riley assured him trying to keep a straight face. 

Liam broke out into a fit of giggles as Drake sat there with a deep frown on his face. 

"It looks like it might eat me." Hannah peered between her fingers, which made Liam laugh even harder. 

"Drake, aren't you going to say anything to Maxwell?" Riley pressed. 

"Nope," Drake grunted again. 

"Drake." She warned and Drake rolled his eyes. 

"Fine." He sighed, turning towards Maxwell. "Ah. Thank you for this um thing." 

Maxwell's smile grew even bigger. "Any time buddy." He clasped Drake on the shoulder. "I thought to myself, Drake loves animals and this one, well I had to make him look like he belonged to you." 

"Well, it's fitting. I'm in hell, why not have a demented Lamb to tie it all together." He shook his head. He had been to an American Easter before but this one was literally the weirdest Easter ever. 

@kingliam2019 @ao719 @emichelle @annabellewynter @twinkleallnight  @tessa-liam @riseandshinelittleblossom @blackcatkita @katedrakeohd @tinkie1973 @ownworldresident @cordoniaqueensworld @lovingchoices14 @indiana-jr @txemrn

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Flufftober Day 31

A Sweet Treat- Wanda Maximoff

Authors note: This is the final Flufftober drabble! I really hope you enjoyed them! Thank you for reading!

Word count: 608     Wanda Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist   Flufftober

As soon as you exit the compound elevator a wonderful smell hits you. Your mouth is watering as you head for the kitchen and it's of no surprise to you when you find your girlfriend, Wanda, standing at the counter.

   Her face lights up as she feels your presence and she quickly turns towards you, “Malysh(baby)!”

   “Hi baby” you greet as you wrap your arms around her waist before kissing her cheek, “Whatever you are making smells absolutely delicious.”

   She smiles, leaning into your embrace, “Thank you, I've never made some of it before, so I’m hoping it comes out tasting as good as it smells.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it will.” you tell her, “So what all are you making?”

   “Well, I’ve made some American staples. A pecan pie, an apple pie, a pumpkin pie, a batch of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, chocolate pumpkin cheesecake, and a pumpkin loaf. And from my childhood I’ve made a honey cake, a batch of baklava, a batch of honey cookies, pumpkin spice babka, a batch of pryaniki, and an orechovnik.” she tells you pointing to each item as it sits on one of the various countertops, “Then in the oven now is one last two things I’m making, sharlotka and medovik”

   “Wow, you've been busy. But it all sound delicious Wands” you tell her as you look around you at all the yummy sweets

   Her brows scrunch together as she also looks around, “Is it too much?”

   “Are you kidding me?” you ask with a laugh, “You know how much we all enjoy your cooking and baking. Steve, Clint and I will honestly eat anything you make. Plus Thor will be here and he’ll want to try everything. And you know Nat and Lena are a sucker for all your European dishes.”

   She chuckles, “I honestly didn’t intend to make so much, I just got a bit carried away with all the honey and pumpkin options. But I guess that is a good thing, considering.”

   The next hour is spent in the kitchen. As she finishes up the last two desserts you work on cutting the cakes and pies before starting to find space for them all in the fridge. Once everything is put away appropriately and ready to be shared amongst the others you both head back to her bedroom. As you both settle down on the bed and as she readies Hocus Pocus on the tv, you can’t help but pout.

   “What's wrong, malysh(baby)?”

   Your frown deepens, “You made so many yummy things and it completely slipped my mind to grab us anything to enjoy”

   She laughs, planting a soft kiss to the end of your nose before she holds a container out in front of you, “I thought you’d want something, so I grabbed us a few of each cookie.”

   You smile, quickly grabbing the container and opening it to grab yourself some goodies, “Thank you soooo much baby. Your cookies are the best”

   “You're very welcome.” she tells you, grabbing a cookie for herself

   As the movie starts she glances over at you once more and smiles as she sees some crumbs at the corner of your mouth. She reaches out, grabbing your chin to get you to look at her. She gently uses her thumb to brush them off you, and her stomach does flips at the way you look at her.

   “I love you Y/n.” 

   “I love you too, Wanda” you tell her, leaning in for a kiss, “Thank you for making the sweets for all of us”

   She sighs happily as she leans against you, “I will always feed my family”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69​​ @mmmmokdok​​ @nataliasknife​​ @natashasilverfox​​ @when-wolves-howl​​ @danveration​​ @naomi-m3ndez​​ @sheneonromanoff​​ @sayah13​​ @likefirenrain​​ @nighttime-dreaming​​ @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece​​ @chaoticevilbakugo​​ @crystalstark02​​ @wackymcstupid​​ @xchaiix​​ @iaminluvwithnat​​ @lovelyy-moonlight​​ @mistressofinsomnia​ @that-one-gay-mosquito​​ @yomamagf​​ @yourfavdummy​​ @justarandomreaderxoxo​​ @scoutlp23-blog​​ @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145​​ @eline03 @wizardofstories​​ @imthenatynat​​ @marvelonmymind​​ @fluffyblanketgecko​​

[monstrousroommates]

"But I love thanksgiving!"

"No you don't, you love food."

Patton crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

"That's what thanksgiving is about!"

"I think it' more about the myth of white supremacy, the noble savage and the prelude to genocide." Virgil growled back.

"I'm pretty sure it has more to do with cranberries."

"I think I may be on my little sweet-tart's side on this." Roman weighed in. "Perhaps it hits different because I wasn't told the mythos as a child?"

Patton gave an offended gay gasp that he had absoltly picked up from Roman.

Logan sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was giving him a headache. Virgil had just woken up grouchy, it seemed and had started taking it out on the nearest stress- that being Patton's gleefull Thanksgiving Day plans. Their kitchen was absolutly stuffed with food, including a turkey that would only just fit in their oven.

"Listen, kiddo-" Patton started. "I know that they sure didn't treat the natives well, but that's no reason to give up on everything."

"Genocide, Patton." Virgil repeated. "Putting some cranberry jelly on it doesn't change that."

"But that's not what Thanksgiving is about!" the werewolf protested.

"That does seem to be the central narrative. I like a party as much as the next person- and I am looking forward to seeing Remy, but-"

"That's the point!" Patton whirled and pointed at Roman with a spatula. "Family! Food! Being together! coming together to enjoy a meal together!"

"Drinking yourself insensible so you don't have to deal with your relatives." Virgil provided.

"Charitably-" Logan offered "One could call it a harvest festival, though the average modern American is even further removed from that than they are the so-called 'First Thanksgiving'."

"Kind of an anti-harvest festival, given that harvest festivals are about expressing bounty, and lack of bounty is what brought on the first one, isn't it?" Roman asked.

Patton glared at them all.

"Pie is for festive people." he said tightly.

Virgil looked over to the veritable smorgasbord of different pies set out on the pass through counter.

"... okay fine, I'll set the table."

"Thank you!" Patton grinned.

"But no Christmas carols, and I'm still going to bitch about Black Friday."

"Your terms and conditions have been accepted!"