#and will be very sad if he dips out at this point

[shadow4-1]

Hi! Idk if you take requests, but if you do I was wondering if I could request a 141 x reader where they're on a mission and at some point a grenade gets thrown at them and they don't have enough time to run away so reader pulls a Steve Rogers and throws herself onto it to prevent the damage done to the rest of the squad? If not that's totally fine too, ik it's kinda sad lol. Btw I love your writing it's super good, especially the 141 x shy reader. 💕

I like this idea! It's very heroic and a lil' sad. And, to be quite frank, would've been a much more heroic way for Soap to have gone out in MW3! Here's my take on this prompt:

Shit. Shit. Shit.

How the hell are you going to do this?

Gaz is alive but unconscious, Ghost is on his knees, and Soap is face down in a pool of subway grit. You can't hear, you know your eardrums are blown out from the blast. Price dashed off after Makarov.

On shaky ankles you step around the bodies of friend and foe alike. You can feel the atmosphere bend with the whiz of bullets but you can't hear them shattering the checkerboard tile.

You manage to get over Soap first. He's breathing. He's really fucking heavy too, all dead weight and limp. With all of your adrenaline strength you manage to brute force him over onto his back. He's got some shrapnel in his jaw and littered all over his kit, but nothing too visibly deep.

There's a hand on your shoulder. It's so heavy it nearly brings you down to the floor. You scream, but you can't hear it, only feel the vibration in your chest.

It's Ghost. His eyes are wide, bloodshot, and completely crazed. You can't tell if he's talking because of his mask. He's still on his knees, and his body dips to the side before he rights himself with a jerk. You know your Lt. well enough to know something is seriously wrong with him, but he's conscious, and therefore not your top priority.

Gaz is.

You glance over at your other team member. He's slouched over against a pillar. He's barely awake with eyes rolling and lips bloody. You make a mad dash over to him. You trust Ghost will take care of Soap to at least get him to safety.

You feel more bullets bending around you but it doesn't matter. You're probably hit already and you just can't feel it. Your boots lose purchase in some grime and you slip. You crawl the last few feet to Gaz. He doesn't see you or focus on you even as you fill up his vision.

You try to mutter something to him but you can't hear it and you doubt he can either.

The entire subway platform vibrates. You can feel the rattling of a train whoosh by behind you. You really hope Price caught Makarov. Just as the train passes you by you feel another explosion. Hot air blows down the tunnel followed by a red glint.

Oh no.

You wrap your arms tight around Gaz's neck and pull him down to the floor. He coughs up blood tinged saliva onto your vest. You tuck your body around him, cradling his head against your chest. You realize he's missing his hat as you press your face against the crown of his head. One of his hands weakly grabs at the side clasp of your vest.

For that last moment before disaster strikes, you desperately hope he has no idea what's going on.

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (Interlude): My Little Loves

a/n: Mother's Day, 1950. a super long, fluffy fic about Mother's Day! there is also quite a bit of angst as this takes place about one month before John would ship off to fight in the Korean War. I really hope you all enjoy this little bit of a deeper look at the twins/Lillian's personalities and Cass/John as parents and the absolute chaos that their house always is but they fucking love it because they fucking love each other. chat soon my lovies xoxo

The gentle tickles of John’s lips pressing to her back caused a smile to spread across her face. She kept her eyes closed as he kissed every inch of her skin that was exposed by the dip in the back of her nightgown. 

“I know you’re awake, baby. Can see the goosebumps when I kiss you.”

“Keep going. I didn’t tell you to stop.” He smiled against her shoulder and reached for the hand resting against her rounded belly and twisting their fingers together. “Waking me up like this is exactly how we came to celebrate this day three years ago.”

“Happy Mother’s Day, my love. Last one as a mama of three, huh?” Cass hummed and wiggled her back further into his chest. He kissed behind her ear and buried his nose in her hair, relishing in the simple feeling of her in his arms. It would never get old for him. The quiet moments between them and their growing family were his favorite. There was no moniker he loved more than husband and father.

“If you had it your way I would always be pregnant.” 

“Can’t argue that. I love filling you up with my babies.” As if to illustrate his point, he found the hem of her silkwear at the top of her thighs and lifted it to expose her belly to him fully. She was two months along with the next addition to their family. They were both already so eager to have a little baby again. “And how can you blame me? We make the prettiest little ones.”

“I have to agree. How do you make it so they all have your eyes?” She rolled over to face him and look at the baby blues in question.

“I don’t do it on purpose. Just a side effect of my-” There was a gentle knock on the door. “My bets on Penny,” he whispered. 

“Fine. I’ll take Lilly.”

“Mommy? I come in?” It was Gale. They were both wrong. 

“Yes, my little dove.” Knocking on the door to Mommy and Daddy’s room was one of the most critical things they had taught the twins. It had only taken one time for them to walk in on a moment their innocent eyes should never be exposed to for John to use his stern dad voice. The tone was so rarely used that their toddler ears had listened very closely and had obeyed ever since.

“Happy Mama Day!” He came scurrying into their room, his blanket trailing behind him, and Cass caught him in her arms as he jumped onto the bed. 

“Careful, buddy,” John exclaimed as his wife grunted and fell against the pillow with the impact of her son. 

“Sorry!” A few days ago, John had reminded the kids that the day where they celebrate their mother was coming up. Gale had been particularly excited, giving John a stack of drawings that he wanted to gift her and asking if they could have pancakes for breakfast because they were her favorite. 

“Did you sleep well?” she asked as her hand stroked through his curls. He nodded from where his head was tucked under her chin. 

“Hungry,” he offered simply. All of a sudden, John had two sets of eyes on him. “Daddy, we have cakes?”

“We did say that was mommy’s favorite.” He stroked the pillow soft cheek of his son and Cass smiled as she recognized the look in his eyes. One of pure adoration. One that he only ever looked upon her and their children with. “Go get your sisters so they can help.”

“Okay. Love you mama. Love you papa.” Gale reached for his dad first, kissing John’s puckered lips, before he tightened his little arms around Cass’ neck and accepted her request for a kiss as well. He shimmied out of the bed and was off in a scamper down the hall.

“When are we going to tell them?” she whispered with sadness as she watched her son. As she felt her husband’s hand tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I want today to be one of happiness. For you and for them.” He thinks the twins would be able to understand he was leaving for a while. That they would be able to feel the ache in their chest at not seeing their father for months. Maybe longer. Lillian had just turned two. Her grasp of the world around was still taking shape. But there were medical appointments and chauvinistic doctors. 

John knew his wife was strong enough, their love for each other was more than strong enough, to survive his deployment to Korea. He just didn’t know how he was going to say goodbye to her or the little one growing inside of her. He was at his strongest in the presence of his family. 

“I want every day to be happy for us. But especially for them.” Cass had promised her children they would never not be with their family. That nothing would ever separate them and that is exactly what their mother and father had fought for. And now it was all unraveling. “Look at my first baby coming to see me because he knows I’m sad.” Butter came padding into their room with a sock monkey in his mouth. 

“No, he just knows I’m about to get out of bed and wants to take my spot.” Butter whined as if to ask if he could hurry up and do just that. They heard two sets of feet quickly patter down the stairs and smiled as their littlest one rubbed her eyes in their doorway. The stairs were a bit of a daunting task for her so she knew to ask for help. “Hi, ladybug.” John was quick to swing his legs onto the floor and pad over to his princess. 

“Does it look like she was scratching at her ear again?” Cass welcomed Butter onto the bed with a scratch to the top of his head. At her last doctor’s appointment, they had poked and prodded as they tried to find a comfortable hearing aid for her little ear. It had left her with even more discomfort than she normally walked around with and it broke Cass’ soul she couldn’t fix it. 

“It doesn’t look as red as it did yesterday.” John kissed the ear in question as he rested his daughter on his hip. She smiled and gripped the collar of his shirt tighter. “Should we go make sure Mommy has a breakfast that’s actually edible?” Cass melted as she watched him rub his nose against their daughter’s. Lillian was so attached to her parents, only ever at complete peace in their arms and seemingly feeling a little lost in navigating this loud and crazy world. The most rewarding gift she could have given her children was this man as their father. 

“We can’t miss mass either, John!” she called as he disappeared towards the sounds of giggling children and bowls clanging together. “What are the chances they don’t make my entire kitchen look like a warzone?” she asked Butter as she turned to kiss his nose. He looked at her as if to say zero.

----

“Penny, I love your coloring so much and it is so beautiful, but can we keep it on the paper and off the table?” Cass normally put paper or an old tablecloth under their paper when they were coloring to avoid this very issue but the thought hadn’t crossed his mind until it was too late. 

“Daddy, sing please!” Penelope asked with a smile as she looked up at John.

“Please!” Gale emphasized.

“Sing? What should we sing?” He was balancing Lily on his hip, her little hands occupied with the piece of fruit she was sucking on and refusing to eat, while grabbing pancake ingredients with one hand and monitoring the bacon crackling on the stovetop. 

“Twinkle star,” she offered as she got down from her chair and moved to the counter by her dad. 

“You want to start the song, lovey?” Penny wrapped her arms around John’s leg and hugged tightly as he struggled to measure the flour with two of his limbs occupied by cuddly babies. 

“Twinkle twinkle star,” she began singing with her toddler lisp glossing over some of the consonants in the words. 

“How I wonder what you are,” John continued as his son padded over to join in on use Dad as a jungle gym time, taking the empty leg for himself to match his twin. “Up above the world so high…” He looked down as the twins mumbled along to the song.

“Like a star in the sky,” they sang. He smiled at their new lyrics. Diamond was a hard word for them to pronounce. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”

“How I wonder what you are!” He bopped his finger against Lilly’s nose as the song came to a close. “Excellent job, my loves.” 

“We help?” Gale asked as he was already moving his little stool so it was flush to the counter. 

“Stir very carefully,” John said as he offered the wooden spoon to his son. He switched the hip Lilly was resting on and dropped a kiss to the top of Gale’s head, checking in on Penny who was happy to stay wrapped around his leg like a monkey. “Should we add some chocolate?” 

“I love chocolate!” Penelope answered as she stood to try and peek at what her brother was doing. 

“Penny, careful,” Gale cautioned as he furrowed his brow with concentration at the task his father had given him. John smiled at the interaction as he offered Penelope a little bowl of just chocolate chips. 

“Don’t tell your mother,” his finger against his lips as if to seal in the secret.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she giggled as she scurried back to the table with her little treat. Lillian squeaked with delight as Butter came loping down the stairs to join in on the chaos and get closer to the smell of bacon. He sniffed at her feet as she laughed and reached to pet him. 

“There you go, ladybug.” John set her down and she was off towards the living room with her best friend in tow in search for his favorite basket of toys. “How we looking, Gale?”

“All done!” John gave it a quick stir to make sure everything was incorporated and gave his son an impressed nod when it looked perfect.

“Mommy’s going to love these,” he whispered as the little one smiled. 

“I love mommy.” 

“She loves you, too,” John slid the pan of bacon to the back of the stove and let Gale drop a pad of butter into a new pan, “and you know I love you a lot, right?” 

“This much?” Gale giggled as he spread his arms out wide. 

“This much,” John answered with a smile as he extended his own arms. He brought his arms around his son’s little body and squeezed as tightly as he could, kissing the side of his head. There was a happy screech from the living room, distinctly the sound of Lillian, that had both Egan boys turning their heads. “You want to check on your sister?” The twins were just as protective over their little sister as their parents were. John and Cass had done their best to explain to them she was a little different than the little siblings their friends have or even than they were as babies. That she needed a little extra love and attention sometimes. Cass had let the thoughts eat her alive that she wouldn’t be able to love the twins as much as they deserved if she was so focused on Lillian. John had assured her that her heart was big enough for the task.

“I be back!” John watched with a smile as his son ran off into the living room and felt his chest swell at the little humans he and his wife had created and were raising to be kind, loving and giving. It was these exact moments that had spurned his heart back to life on the back of the carriage in the German forest or when his stomach was cavernous and his nose felt like it was going to fall off in Stalag. He was on this earth to be a husband to his wife and a father to his children. 

“Daddy, more chocolate?” Penelope presented him an empty bowl with the evidence of her treat streaked across her cheeks and even a little on the pink of her pajamas. 

“Little lamb, how did you get a tiny bowl of chocolate chips all over you like this?” he asked as he crouched down to her height. 

“More, daddy? Please?” 

“I’ll put some in your pancakes, how about that?” 

“Smile face?” John had been known to try and turn his kids food into a smiley face whenever he had the chance. Most notably was Sunday morning pancakes with chocolate chips.

“Yes, baby, daddy’ll make your pancake into a smiley face.” Satisfied with his answer, she too ran off towards the room that held a fraction of her toys, her dog and her siblings. He thought about calling back for her so he could wipe her face and hide the evidence from his wife but he could already hear giggling and thought it best to leave it be. 

Of course his three kids were an absolute handful, he doesn’t know how their nanny did this by herself everyday or how Cass managed at night before he got home, but he had never felt as fulfilled as he did in the moments with them. When he had gotten the orders to Korea, it was missing these moments that made his heart stop. Missing Gale and Penelope’s musicals they put on with their stuffed animals most nights. Missing guidance from doctors on how to help Lillian still hit milestones and reach her full potential in this life. Missing the sight of Cass’ smile and the way she mumbled in her sleep and how she fiddled with her wedding band when she was reading. 

The United States Air Force was a bitch of a mistress.

----

John had every intention of bringing her breakfast in bed and snuggling as a family under the covers. But Gale had spilled the orange juice on his way up the stairs and Butter had stolen a strip of bacon from the plate while he was trying to clean up and Penny had already picked chocolate chips out of two pancakes before he realized it might have been too noble of an intention. 

“What have we got going on down here?”

“Mommy!” It was a chorus of loving children as Cass appeared at the top of the stairs like an angel. She tiptoed around a defeated John and welcomed all three of them in for a hug as she reached them. 

“Did my little loves help Daddy make breakfast?” The twins nodded and Lillian crawled into her lap, her ear dropping to her mother’s chest and smiling at the feeling of her heartbeat instantly. “Let’s go set the table so we can enjoy it.” 

“I’ll meet you guys over there,” John sighed as he was picking up ripped pieces of pancake from the stairs.

Just like the goddess he always knew she was, Cass had the kids cleaning up coloring supplies, setting placemats and settling into their wooden booster seats all while they hummed Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star again. He watched silently as she wet a napkin and wiped Penelope’s giggling face and helped Gale cut his breakfast into smaller pieces and took extra care to make sure Lillian was comfortable with her miniature fork. “I’m sorry, baby, we were supposed to be waiting on you, not the other way around.” 

“I’d rather dote on the little doves that made me a mother today.” She fell against him with ease, his lips against hers quickly. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“You haven’t even eaten it yet. It could be disgusting.” 

“The lack of Egan jabbering coming from the table due to their eating of it leads me to believe it can’t be that bad.” Cass pressed onto her toes to kiss John the way she always did when they got to talking about their babies. Like she wanted another one promptly. It was how the current Egan in her belly got there. 

“Since when is their jabbering from me? You’re the one who sweet talks people for a living.” He fisted her nightgown as he tried to restrain himself against the efforts her tongue was making with his. “And so successfully I might add, baby. So good at being my little Spook.”

“John Clarence Egan,” she squeezed his cheeks into his chin with one hand, “stop with that bedroom voice. We have no time-”

“Oh, Cass, I don’t need that much time,” he sniped back with that grin that normally made her knees fall open. 

“Mommy, Daddy, sit!” Penelope pointed at the empty chairs they normally sat in, her face covered in even more chocolate than it was before. 

“What do we say when we ask someone for something?”

“Please!” she answered. Cass kissed the top of her head and sat down across from her as John carried over two plates. 

“Thank you, baby,” she kissed his arm as it reached in front of her. 

“Mama!” Cass smiled as Lillian called for her attention and reached out her arms. It wasn’t very often she tried to speak and it made her heart soar whenever she did. Even more so when she used her voice to call for her parents.

“Yes, my sweet girl, I’m right here.” She brought her into her lap and swallowed back tears as John looked at them with a sad smile. “I’ll always be right here. I promise.” Cass buried her nose in Lillian's hair and breathed deeply as John held her hand on top of the table.

“Daddy, too?” Gale asked quietly as he paused his eating. 

“I’m always, always, going to do everything I can to be with you.” He squeezed his wife’s hand tighter.

“Okay, Daddy!” Satisfied with the answer, and not understanding the true sentiment behind John’s words, Gale was focused on his fork and making it sound like a plane. 

Cass did her best to smile the rest of breakfast. She snuck some bacon under the table for Butter. Bounced Lilly on her knee while she laughed. Felt her sides hurt with joy as John mimed eating the chocolate off of Penelope’s cheeks. It was exactly the kind of family she had always wanted to build. One of pure love and happiness. One that didn’t feel like it needed to be molded in some kind of high society pressure. One where her kids would always know she loved them. Where they would always know their parents loved each other. 

“Alright, monkeys, let’s go upstairs so we can get changed for church.” The twins groaned like teenagers trapped in toddler bodies, Penelope dramatically going limp in John’s lap while Gale dropped his forehead to the table. “Hey, we said today was Mommy’s day right? So we agreed to do whatever Mommy wanted?” 

“No church, Daddy.” To them it meant stockings and sitting quietly and there were the Carter kids that they despised seeing. 

“For me?” Cass asked with a pout. It worked on their father. Maybe it would work on them. Penny looked to her dad.

“Do it for Mama,” he whispered like it was a secret just between them. Penelope relented with a nod and after a kiss to the top of her head from John was off his lap and holding her brother’s hand to scurry up the stairs. 

“You want to help them while I clean all this up?” He was already standing from the table and gathering plates. 

“I’m going to find a way to get us to Japan.” John froze and turned back to look at his wife, her focus on Lillian. “I’m not letting anything separate this family. Not even another war.” He set the plates in the sink and moved to crouch at her side, tucking her hair behind her ear and noticed the way she was shaking with the strength it took to not break down. 

“Cass, baby, nothing ever will separate us. Even if I am physically far away, you know my heart is always with you five.” 

“Last time…last time…” Lilly squeaked as her mother pressed her into her chest. Cass so rarely thought about Germany. Used all her compartmentalization skills to keep the years without John shoved away. Her time at the camp and their journey to make it out of there tucked away even further. She had always been adamant that misfortune only befell them when they were apart. When the distance allowed the malevolent spirits to find their way in. 

“Hey, ladybug, come here.” John gently pried Cass’ hands from around their daughter and set her on the ground. “Butter!” The hound came trotting when he heard his name. He whined at the sight of Cass and the state she was in. 

“Mama?” Lillian tilted her head and reached back for her mother with curiosity. Understanding why John had called him, Butter distracted her with a lick to her cheeks and she was giggling at the dog instantly. He gently nudged her until she was toddling out of the kitchen and he followed after her. 

“Talk to me, Spook. Tell me what’s rattling around that gorgeous mind.” John cupped her cheek so he could look her in the eyes. 

“I had the worst two years of my life because I wasn’t with you. I was hopeless and lifeless and had no purpose without you, John. I’m so afraid that when you leave, I’ll go right back to that place and I have those three I have to be brave for and this little one and oh, God, they’re going to come while you’re gone and I can’t-” Her head was tucked under his chin in an instant as the sobs racked through her body. 

“Breathe, baby, breathe. I’ve got you.” Cass had gotten so good at tucking her emotions into a little box that she kept in a dark and tiny corner of her heart. It had been years since the memories inspired a breakdown such as this. “If you and the kids moving to Japan is going to fix that ache, then we’ll figure it out. We’ll find a way. Just like we always do.” 

“I don’t want this to weigh on you. Just give me a minute and I’ll be fine.” She pushed off his chest and stood on shaky legs. 

“Cass…” he reached for her but she didn’t grab his hand. He recognized the glazed look to her eyes. It was the same she had the previous few times the ghosts of the past had come to haunt her. It was Central Intelligence Agency Cassandra Egan taking the reins. Urging the version of her that felt too hard and too deeply to let go of the wheel and let the cold as stone version take control. “Cass, baby, don’t do this. Don’t run from your emotions. Don’t shut me out.”

“Mommy! I need help!” Penelope’s voice called from the top of the stairs. 

“I’ll be right there, little love!” She turned to look at John who looked like he was going to stay exactly where he was until she crawled back in his lap and worked through this with him. “I’m not running and I’m not shutting you out. Now’s just not the right time.” 

“When will be the right time?” He wasn’t going to let her say the things he wanted to hear and get away with no following through. 

“Tonight? You, me and our pillows?” It was where their most important conversations seemed to be had. The place where they could relax and breathe and touch each other and whisper softly and kiss each other through whatever problems arose. They had yet to find a problem they couldn’t kiss their way through.

“I’ll be there.”

----

Gale and Penelope held their mother’s hand tightly as they walked out of the church, anxiously awaiting the lollipop their father normally handed to them once they hit the sidewalk if they had behaved. Penelope had done her best to not plug her ears at the sound of the organ and Gale had only stuck his tongue out at Jeffery Carter once and his mother hadn’t even noticed. 

“Alright. Good little lambs lollipop time.” John dropped Lillian to her feet and squatted to be at the same height of his cheering children. “One for each of you.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” the twins said in unison. 

“Give me a kiss.” They giggled as they each pressed their sticky lips to his cheeks. 

“Oh, Cass! It’s so good to see you! Happy Mother’s Day!” Grace Carter. Self-proclaimed Queen of Great Falls, Virginia. 

“Grace, it’s good to see you.” Cass greeted her politely. “Happy Mother’s Day yourself.” She was acutely aware of her twins staring daggers at the two Carter boys. She gathered them against her legs and smoothed her hand over their hair. 

“Lieutenant Colonel Egan, you always look dashing in your Sunday best.” Cass gathered her breath before Grace became acquainted with her right hook. 

“Thank you, ma’am. How are you doing, Adam?” he reached to shake his hand firmly before settling Lillian back on his hip and kissing his wife on the side of the head.

“I’m good, John, nice to see you.” For all the women that fawned over John Egan, much to the nearly violent chagrin of his wife, the husbands were never worried. No one in Great Falls or Charleston or Europe had ever seen him look at a woman that wasn’t his wife. 

It incensed the local gossipers that he only ever seemed to be a devoted, attentive husband and father. He had been seen taking the twins to a park by himself, the horror. Seen picking them up from preschool instead of the nanny and while his wife was at work, the scandal. And the absolute most incredibly inappropriate display of Lieutenant Colonel John Egan handling a temper tantrum on the sidewalk of Walker Street with soft words and an understanding tone. Not a scream or a yell or a rough hand to avoid the prying eyes. Ghastly. 

“Well, we best get going.” Cass smiled in the way that John knew meant she was moments from kicking someone’s ass, her hands pivoting the twins away and towards the car.

“Cass, will we be seeing you at the school’s bake sale Wednesday afternoon?” 

“No, Grace. I’ll be at work.” That was another thing the local gossips loved to make a topic of conversation. The fact that Mrs. Cassandra Egan worked. That she wasn’t at every bake sale or auction but somehow always managed when it was a recital or art show. They were annoyed she had priorities and boundaries and enforced them and had a partner who seemed to do everything with her in perfect tandem. They never worked against each other, always rowing in the same direction. 

“Such a shame you always have to work. Especially in your condition. You really should be resting.” John felt the air turn cold and tightened his grip around his daughter, his other arm wrapping around his wife’s waist and resting on top of their precious bump. 

“And what condition might that be? The blessing of another child?” He knew where her mind was going. The acrid comments from doctors that somehow Cass was to blame for Lillian’s deafness. That she hadn’t taken enough care of herself during her pregnancy or rode her horse one too many times or that having twins had ruined her birth canal and damaged their daughter during birth. “I could only hope to be in this condition more often than not, Grace. I mean, you said it yourself. My husband looks so dashing in his Sunday best.” 

----

A long afternoon of lollipops and the sprinkler in the backyard and babies falling asleep around the outdoor fire with chocolate on their cheeks, turned into a slow night of baths and bedtime stories and lullabies as Cass tucked the blanket around Gale’s tiny frame.

“Mommy?” he asked groggily as she was just about to close the door.

“Yes, little love?” Cass padded back to his bedside and gently knelt down to look at his precious face, cheek squished against his pillow and stuffed animal tucked under his chin.

“I love you.”

“I love you so much, my baby. So very, very much.” She stroked his cheek gently and kissed his forehead.

“Stay together forever,” he mumbled as his eyes grew heavy and he drifted into dream land. Cass held her breath as she watched peace settle over him. Peace that their family would remain intact and together. Forever. 

“I’ll do everything in my power, baby, I promise.” She gently pushed his curls off his forehead and pressed a kiss to the skin there, sealing in her promise. 

Cass closed the door as gently as she could and rested her own forehead against the wood to steady her breathing for a moment. For someone who prided themselves in keeping their emotions at bay, she was having a hard time breathing against the waves crashing against her. She knew she was stronger than this. Knew that her relationship with her husband and his bond with their kids was capable of withstanding any test that was thrown at them. The point was that Cass thought she had passed enough tests for the universe to give her a break. That she had earned a modicum of normalcy in waking up next to her husband every morning and both of them raising their babies together every day. What more did they want from her in order to give her that? Cass wasn’t sure she had much left to give them.

“Gale fall asleep before you even made it out the door?” John asked as he was arranging the pillows the way he knew his wife liked. “I didn’t even have to read to little ladybug, she practically fell asleep before I even got her pajamas on her.”

“For all the sugar he consumed today, yes, he fell right asleep. Penny is probably still awake making flashlight puppets.” Ever since John had used the flashlight and his hand to act out a scene from her favorite bedtime story, Penelope had been working to perfect her craft. More than once she had been caught by her parents in the middle of the night. 

“Just the fact that we created humans amazes me but the fact that they have imaginations and dreams and personalities…learning who they are is never going to get old to me,” John mused. He walked around the bed and tried to bring Cass into his arms but she was already crawling onto the bed and sliding herself under the blankets. “You’re not going to let me hold you, baby?” He looked dejected as he stood there with his arms open like he was still expecting her to fall into them. 

“I need that big brain of yours to help me work through some problems, Lieutenant Colonel.” She patted his pillow next to her for emphasis. He smiled wickedly and leaned down to kiss her, crawling over her body until she was horizontal across the bed. “I love when you look at me like that. Like you can read me and understand without me having to verbalize it to you.”

“Because I can, Spook,” he hummed. His lips dropped to hers once, twice, three times before his eyes were right back on hers. “You scare me when you shut down like you did earlier, Cass. You have to let yourself feel things in order to work through them.”

“I feel things when I’m with you. When I’m with our kids. It’s the feeling of not being with you and us all not being together that I want to avoid.” His finger drifted down her cheek and left a pleasant tingle in its wake. 

“It’s not forever, baby. With those three and one on the way and Butter, you will be so busy you won’t even realize I’m gone.” She sat up and held John’s face between his hands. 

“Please tell me you don’t think that’s true. There will always be a hole in my chest whenever you aren’t near.”

“I know. I’m just trying to find the right words to say to soothe your ache, Cass.” She leaned down and kiss him gently. Conveying all of her love, or as much as her human form could summon, letting herself melt under his gaze. 

“There’s a position in Tokyo. Mary told me about it a couple of weeks ago and I’ve been holding back on asking for it because of our little ones. All four of them.” Her hands fell to her pregnant belly and John rested his cheek on top of them. “I’m scared to fly with them that long and I’m scared of my choices fucking with another one of our-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Cass. You did nothing wrong when it comes to Lillian. You carried her and provided for her and were put here on this earth to be exactly the mother that you are to her.” John wasn’t ashamed at the level of anger he had shown the doctors that had tried to pin this on his wife. Wasn’t ashamed that he had almost throttled them through the exam room door. She smiled through her tears and combed her fingers through his curls. 

“See? I need you.”

“We need each other.” She nodded in agreement. 

“And we’ll always have each other. We’ll always make sure of it.”

As she kissed John in the warmth of the lamplight, the ache in her chest was soothed but not solved. She had a plan percolating in her mind on how to do so but fears that were acting as barriers towards diving in. It was uncharted water for her. Unsure of her choices and calculating the ripple of implications they would have on her children instead of just herself or an operation. It was the first time there may be a conflict between her desires as a wife and her desires as a mother. Ultimately, she would be the only one able to reconcile them.

But there were a few things she would always know for certain. Firstly, that John Egan loved her and she loved him. Second, that she loved every inch of all of her children and always would, for all time. Third, that she had fought tooth and nail for the life that she currently had and nothing would ever be worth losing it for.

Lastly, Cassandra Ann Egan knew that she deserved happiness. And fulfillment. And peace. She had fought a war to find the stable ground she was sitting on and supposed she would fight another one to maintain it. To protect it. To preserve her little corner of the world that darkness was not allowed to touch. 

They’d have to get through her first. And she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

[smart-milk]

I have been seeing this man for like a month now/have been on like 7 dates with him at this point and he has very clearly said that he likes me and I am still here convincing myself he's going to change his mind and getting nervous when I text him asking if he's free to hang out. Why! Am! I! Like! This !!!!!

[fieldofdaisiies]

Scars Like Mine

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: angst | words: 3,3k | warnings: this story explores a little darker themes, like childhood trauma and fire, so please, read with caution. playlist: hurts | scars to your beautiful | beauty marks | stronger | fly with me

“Where did you get those from?”

Azriel startles, both at the little voice talking to him and the soft touch against his hand. It is featherlight, almost like a gust of wind and feels so odd in a place like this. In front of him, is the barren landscape of the Illyrian mountains, around him the eerie war camp, frigid and somber. 

The shadowsinger’s gaze drops immediately and he‘s met with big, brown eyes that belong to a tiny girl, barely reaching to his knee. Her wings are tightly tucked in. She is wearing a dark blue wool hat that has a few holes in it, and a jacket that looks far too big for her small frame. 

Shock runs deep the moment he sees that half her face and also the exposed part of her neck is marred by scars, very similar to those on his hands. But despite those scars, there is a smile on her lips. One that seems so bright within the darkness of this camp. 

Azriel’s throat is all of a sudden so dry and constricts when he wants to talk. A cold shiver curls around his spine, and his knees tremble. What could have possibly been done to her? Where did she get the scars from?

Finally he crouches down, his hand still in the hold of the little Illyrian girl. He is nearly on eye level with her when his lips part to say something, anything, but she beats him to it.

“From fire?” Her eyes open wider, and curiosity sparks within the deep chocolate brown. Her lower lip, though, trembles slightly. “Like mine?”

Slowly, Azriel’s chin dips, his chest squeezing and his heart beating in a sad rhythm. He has accepted so, but hearing it out loud hurt. He feels tremendously bad for every child who had to experience a similar fate to what he had to go through and telling by the amount of scars she has on her body, the fire she had to face wasn’t a small one.  

“Do they still hurt?” She flips Azriel’s hand in hers, the back of it exposed now, and trails her little index finger over one particularly bad and deep scar. 

“Not that much,” Azriel says in a calm, soft voice. “Only in winter when my hands are so dry.” He smiles at her and the little girl nods, a pensive look on her face.

“Mine do too,” she finally says after a moment. “You need to put cream on them. My mummy always puts cream on my skin. I can ask her if she can help you, too?” Her smile widens a little, her eyes looking so hopefully that tears brim Azriel’s.

But the mention of her mummy—Azriel suddenly realises that the girl is all alone, in the middle of the war camp. 

“Where is your mother? Why are you here all alone?”

A cold breeze blows through the war camp, and Azriel notices that other than a few Illyrian brutes the little girl is completely alone (now with him, and he would of course protect her, but otherwise she is alone).

“Mummy picks up our laundry. I am waiting for her here. She is right in there.” Using her index finger, she points at the building behind Azriel and a breath of relief leaves the shadowsinger. 

Thank the Cauldron, she isn’t alone and her mother is close. Azriel’s tense shoulders visible relax, wings slouching to the ground.

The little girl drops his hand and looks at him in shock, eyes wide open, lips parted. “Careful!” she cautions. “Never drag them over the ground, there are pebbles and stones, you might get hurt.”

This is all it needed for a single tear to break the damn and slide out of his eye. Azriel releases a shuddering breath and says, “Oh thank you so much for the warning.” He quickly tucks in his wings, straightens up and smiles at her.

It is most definitely something her mummy has told her, and Azriel has to smile at the thought. A mother who truly looks after her child…

“She taught me how to fly when no one would,” the girl tells Azriel. “They thought I couldn’t fly with my crippled wing.” She lifts her right wing to show it to Azriel, the thin black membrane also adorned with the same scars that grace her skin. 

Azriel swallows thickly, his jaw clenching so hard it almost hurts. “But I‘m sure you proved them wrong.”

The corners of her mouth lift. “I did. I can actually fly really well.” A joyful grin spreads over her face and a kernel of pride blooms in Azriel’s chest — of course she can and of course she showed all the Illyrian fuckers that despite her wing being marred by scars it doesn’t stop her from flying. 

“Do you like flying?” he asks, still in his crouched position but now with his wings neatly tucked in behind his broad shoulders.

The girl shrugs and then inhales deeply. “I like it, but I‘m often not allowed to. Only when mummy has time.”

That makes sense. She is very young and letting her fly alone would be much too risky. Azriel nods slowly and braces his hands on his thighs. He makes a mental note to buy cream, although the mention of someone else taking care of his hands sounded so very wonderful. But obviously he could never accept that offer.

“What is your name?” the little Illyrian asks and brings Azriel back to the moment.

“Azriel,” he answers and likes that here in Illyria where somehow everyone knows him, she doesn’t know who he is. 

“I like this name.” She smiles and bounces on her toes, reaching for a shadow that curls towards her. “Do they have a name as well?”

Azriel has to chuckle at that. She is incredibly adorable and somehow talking to her, and her treating him like any other person and not showing a hint of fear, does something to his heart. And to his eyes. He clears his throat and says, “Unfortunately not. They are just my shadows.”

One of them now curls around her finger and it makes her giggle.

Azriel‘s gaze drops to her shoes. They seem a little too small and old and dirty. One is not fully intact, and it makes him sad. 

Quickly, he asks, “But, do you have a name?” in order to not overthink why she might be wearing those old shoes. It would break his heart.

“Of course, I do. My name is—”

“Elia!” A female voice calls and Azriel looks over his shoulder and is met with a female of beauty he has never seen before. You drop the basket with laundry you have held before and run towards him and Elia.

There is terror in your voice, and horror etched upon your features and Azriel quickly straightens up. He lifts his hands but you completely ignore him. All your attention on the little girl. “Elia! I told you to stay close to the building!”

You are so scared. So incredibly worried and terrified and Azriel’s shadows sense it, tell him.

“I don’t mean any harm or danger—”

“I don’t care. She isn’t supposed to talk to any Illyrian brute!” you snap and finally meet his gaze, your arm sliding around your little girl’s shoulders, pulling her to you. 

You have never seen a male of such beauty before and— he is the High Lord’s shadowsinger. But that doesn’t matter. After everything that has happened to you —to her— you can’t risk anything. Never, ever again. What has been done to you in Ironcrest—

Your breath catches, but before either of you can say anything, Elia opens her mouth. “He has scars like me, mummy.”

Your stomach could, and your throat works around a swallow. “I am very sorry to hear that,” you finally say and your gaze brushes his again. A cold smile is on his face, but other than that there is just empathy. No hint of cruelty, or 

“He also got them from fire,” Elia adds and looks up at you with her big brown eyes, her lips pouted. “Just like me, mummy.”

“Oh baby.” You brush your hand over her head and then turn to address Azriel again. “I’m sorry that this happened to you as well. And I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. Thank you for keeping her safe while I was gone.”

Azrirl bows his head. He technically didn‘t do anything, Azriel thinks and says, “Nothing to thank me for.” 

“But there is.” The sincerity within his eyes is proof enough that you really mean and he can sense your gratitude. After what has probably happened to your little girl, no risk could be taken.

“Do you want to have dinner with us, Azriel?”

“Elia!” you reprimand with a chuckle. She and her big mouth. But she is so joyful and so hopeful and seeing your little daughter happy is the greatest gift the Mother could ever give you. She has finally met someone with scars like hers, and you would love to invite him, solely to thank him for looking after her while you were inside the laundry place. 

He didn’t mean any harm and was kind to her which is a rarity for Illyrian males up here. 

But he works for the High Lord, you doubt he has time for such mundane things as having dinner with you and your daughter. 

“I’m sorry, she is always so straightforward. I would love to invite you to have dinner with us to thank you looking after her, but I totally understand if you are too busy and don’t have time to– ”

“I would love to have dinner with you. Only if it is alright for you, of course,” Azriel interrupts you and smiles a little sheepishly. “But there is absolutely nothing to thank me for. I didn’t do anything.”

Still holding onto your daughter, you step a little closer to him, gaze honest and sincere when it locks with his. “You did. You made her feel protected and safe. She wouldn’t have talked to you otherwise.” You swallow, and mean every word you say. It is the truth. “And you made her smile and I will forever thank anyone who does so.” Reaching out, you grab his hand and squeeze it lightly. 

What has been done to her can never ever be changed again, but every day forward and every little smile on her face, cures a little bit of the pain. And whoever helps you two in going forward and bringing her happiness, has a place within your heart. 

Azriel now also closes his fingers, naturally curling them around your hand. He wants to say something, anything, just so he can look at you a little longer without making it seem weird. But he doesn’t have to say anything, Elia does the job for him. 

“And after dinner, you have to put my cream on his hands as well. Azriel told me that in winter his scars also hurt a lot.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Don’t, please, I can do that.” Your cheeks flush again at his closeness and how helpful he is. You are not used to behaviour like this from other Illyrian males and so you appreciate it greatly. 

Azriel places the plates in the sink and smiles at you. “Please, allow me to help you.” Lastly, he collects Elia’s empty glass, leaving yours and his own on the table, both still filled with a bit of wine. When everything is in the sink he collects a cloth and cleans the table. 

Dinner was wonderful and Elia asked Azriel many questions about his scars but also his shadows and if he likes to fly and what he likes most about flying. He answered each one of her questions, making your heart thrum happily within your chest. 

You know he didn’t tell her the real story about his scars, having seen the look in his eyes. Despite being grateful for it for sparing her the worst details, your stomach has been twisting and coiling since he started with his story. What could have possibly happened to him?

Elia didn’t want to go to bed when it was time for her (actually she stayed up even an hour longer than she is used to, but you allowed her to do so, loving how she thrived in Azriel’s presence, finally having met someone who shares the same past with fire as she does. 

She was almost asleep at the table, chin resting on her hand when you picked her up, cradled her to her chest. “Good night, Azriel, and thank you for sharing your story with me,” she said to the shadowsinger and smiled at him. 

Azriel said her in return, “Thank you for inviting me to dinner and remember all these scars are just proof of how strong you are.” This brought tears to your eyes. 

By the time you reached her room and laid her down she was already asleep. 

He sits down at the table again and you claim the spot beside him, a shy smile on your lips and a small jar of cream for his scars in your hands. 

“We are not from here actually,” you start and loose a long breath, lifting your eyes to meet his hazle ones. “Elia and I come from Ironcrest. After the fire, we fled. Ironcrest was no longer safe for us. My…my ex-husband wanted us gone, thinking I betrayed him and that Elia was not from him. It was utter bullshit, I would have never cheated on him, but his mind told him other things.” 

Your throat constricts as the memories replay in your mind and a shuddering breath leaves you. You close your eyes for a second and suddenly feel a soft touch against your hand. 

“You continue when you are ready,” Azriel whispers, his hand gently placed upon yours. Your lids flicker open and with a look full of gratitude, you meet his eyes and slowly bow your head. 

“Elia had to pay the price for it. I collected some last things for our departure when he set our house on fire. She wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t there fast enough. When I returned I saw the massive flames. It is all I can remember, and Elia’s cries. How she sobbed and wailed and how I held her and dragged her outside. And I–”

“But you were.” He squeezes your hand. “She wouldn’t be here today, if you had been too late. There is no blame on you. She got out of the fire before it was too late. You saved her. You, alone as a young Illyrian female, fled the camp and came here to give her a better life.”

His words…

Tears run out of your eyes and you flip your hand over, cradling it tightly and then lifting it. You bring his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles. “No one has ever made me see the past like this. I’ve always blamed myself.” You swallow around the ache in your throat, tears tasting salty on your lips. “I should have stayed with her. Not left her alone.”

“You can’t always expect the worst and you arrived there in time,” Azriel breathes, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand, his own eyes glassy, tears visible in the corners of them. “You did all you could, and do so every day. Don’t be so hard on yourself, I know you are a great mother.”

Gratitude fills every fibre of your body, and through your tears you smile at him. “Thank you, and please,” –you have to chuckle– “this time just allow him to thank you.”

He dips his chin, the shadows around him that have been calm before, now swirling quite vividly around their owner. 

Azriel reaches out the hand that is not held by yours, and uses his thumb to brush away some tears and then tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You are allowed to thank me, but only if I am allowed to say that Elia most definitely has the best mother in all of Prythian.”

You close your eyes when new tears start to bubble up. You want to shake your head at him, but his palm is placed against your cheek, his thumb stroking over the damp skin. 

“And most definitely also the most beautiful mother in the entire world.” His smile brightens and there is so much honesty within his eyes, you really believe him that he means it. It does something to your heart and to your soul, starting to glow deep within your chest. 

Your cheeks heat, probably also turning bright red and so you need to change the topic. 

“Now let me take care of your hands.” You let go of one of his hands so you can reach for the small jar. Azriel also lowers his own hand, humming in approval. 

“And while you do so, maybe you want to tell me the real story of what happened to them?”

Sadness and pain passes over his face replacing the former lightness. He says nothing for a long moment. You give him time, the same he gave you before, and unscrew the jar, scooping up a bit of the cool cream with two fingers. 

Gently, you apply it to the back of his hand, softly starting to apply it to the rough surface. 

“My step-brothers thought it would be interesting to test my Illyrian healing powers. They held me, poured oil over my hands and set them on fire. When my father’s warriors arrived, it was already too late, the damage has been done.”

Shock knocks the breath from you. How could people be so cruel? How could your own family do something like this?

“I am so sorry.”

“It is alright,” he whispers. Azriel enjoys the soft touch of your hands and what you do to him too much to allow himself to dwell on past memories and those haunting experiences. He wants to revel in the feeling of your hands on his forever. 

“But it isn’t,” you insist. “It never is. I hope they paid for it?” You lift your gaze to meet his, and move on to his other hand, gently taking it into yours while beginning to work a bit of the leftover cream into his skin before scooping up some more. 

“They did,” he assures you and releases a long sigh, visibly relaxing in his chair. “Your hands work wonders.”

A little giggle leaves you, letting your fingers glide over his, intertwining them for a split second. “I assume you need to come here more often then?”

“Is this an invitation?” With a small smirk on his lips, Azriel raises his brow at you. 

“I’m sure Elia would appreciate it greatly.” You smile at him. 

Azriel leans forward a bit and your breath catches, heart hammering against your ribcage. For most part of your life, you have feared males, avoided them like the plague except for the male you one day had to marry but who is now your ex-husband. It is different with Azriel. You like being near him despite not even really knowing him. But you like to be in his presence, to talk to him, to touch him. It is something new, and something that surprises you but it is a welcome feeling. You like it. And he even has the bonus that also Elia likes him and feels safe and secure in his presence.

“And her mother?” Azriel says in a voice that is an octave lower, almost like a velvety brush against your skin. “Would she like to see me again?”

You grin at him, some tears having dried on your cheeks by now. “She would love to see you again.”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

[chimielie]

oh my god, they were roommates

part 2 to and they were roommates. no cws, just silliness.

you're not talking to tooru.

he's not sure how you manage it so effectively. you eat all your meals in your room while he's home, except for when you manage to sneak from there to the door while he's in the bathroom. his only clue that you've gone out is that you leave your bedroom door open when you do, really hammering home how empty his life suddenly is.

"even when we're in the same room," he sighs, resting his cheek on his fist. "it's like trying to grab a fish out of the water. i turn around or blink and poof! gone!"

"your sleeve is dipping into your drink," says his date. "and i really think you need to discuss this with your roommate. at home. alone."

tooru waves goodbye forlornly as they stand up and walks out of the restaurant, leaving behind a half-eaten ball of rice and a broken man.

"you are like a sad, sad," akaashi says, pausing to really linger on the word sad, "wet cat. please stop bringing your dates here to mope about—to them. you are forming bad associations between our business and your terrible romantic etiquette."

akaashi keiji is a mangaka now, or an editor for one, anyway; he works at onigiri miya (tokyo location) on the side because it's the only way he routinely leaves the house; tooru brings his dating drama here to brighten up what must surely be a terribly boring life.

"what would you do without me, akaashi-kun," tooru stretches his arms high with a languid sigh that makes akaashi worry that he has comprehended none of his words. "wouldn't you be so miserable if you didn't have me to bring romance and excitement to your life?"

"i have a boyfriend of several years," akaashi says, which is rude to remind tooru of while he's in such a vulnerable state. "i have plenty of excitement with him in my life."

"inconsiderate!" tooru snorts. "please break up with him to show me solidarity."

"i will not be doing that." akaashi picks up the nameless and now-vanished date's plate and takes a bite out of the leftover food.

"understandable," tooru nods, "that's very reasonable. i just don't know what to do, or how to fix it, or what i did wrong."

"you come in here every other night to whine about what you did wrong."

"do not."

"do too," akaashi sticks out his tongue at him. there's a grain of rice stuck to his lip. "you spent several months going out on dates trying to make your friend-turned roommate jealous—during which, I'll note, you basically exclusively talked about the person you were and continue to be obsessed with—then initiated... romantic physical contact, then ran away. because you have the attachment style of a stray cat."

"ah, akaashi-kun," tooru says. "are you saying i get around?"

"i am saying you are lurking outside the window and begging for attention and then biting the hand that feeds you when you get it.”

“oh.” tooru is quiet for a moment. “can i get the check?”

“it’s on the house if you’ll just go home and talk to your roommate and never come back here with another date.” akaashi says, finishing off the onigiri.

“deal.”

your room is empty, your bedroom door ajar when he comes home. mournfully, tooru sits on the bed, reminiscing over the hours he'd spent gossiping with you here.

he'll just wait for you to get back. when he used to take you dancing—with your other friends, but you'd wind your arms around his neck and he'd run light hands over your waist, your hips, and you would look at him like no one else even existed—you always wanted to leave before midnight. it's ten-forty-nine now, according to his watch, so he's sure you'll be back before long.

you get home at two-oh-four. you had never seen the point in staying out longer when going home and chatting over a bowl of cheesy noodles with tooru was so much more appealing—you didn't want to dance with anyone else anyway. now, though, you don't want to be home, and you have something to prove. to who, you're not sure, but you find yourself staying out later and later.

even though you always return home alone. you'd thought about really upping the ante, about moving on as abruptly as possible, but you couldn't. it felt like going too far in this petty revenge game. after all, you still—

you stop short, dropping your shoes on the floor. the devil is in your bed, lying on his side, knees tucked to his chest to fit his absurdly long frame. his breaths are even and deep, his face peaceful.

"oh, tooru," you sigh, and climb over him to tuck yourself against his warm side.

you blink your eyes open slowly, sleep still gleaming in the corners of your vision. there's a weight on your hip and something that smells really, really good surrounding you, nearly lulling you back to sleep.

"oh, please don't," says a voice you haven't heard in days. "my arm's circulation has been completely cut off. i may never serve again."

you jolt away from the soft source of warmth, which you realize belatedly is oikawa's chest.

"what happened?" you say, swiping at your face with the back of your hand.

he looks frustratingly perfect as always, brown hair rumpled, eyes soft like you aren't in the biggest spat of your friendship.

"i was waiting for you," he admits, leaning on his side and casting his eyes down, his lashes shadowing his high cheekbones. "because i wanted to apologize, to be clear. i must have fallen asleep, and then i woke up, and it was like—"

"yes," you cough. "i see. um."

"i'm sorry," he says. "hey, look at me. i'm really sorry."

"for what, oikawa?" you laugh nervously.

"for being stupid," he rolls one shoulder in a shrugging motion. "for trying to make you jealous and instead just being, like, a complete fucking clown during all of it."

"make me jealous?" you say, blinking at him.

"please don't look at me like that," he says, scrubbing over his face with the hand that's not propping up his head. "it-you make me nervous."

"we've been friends for years," you say, still apparently lost. "how can i make you nervous?"

"you always will," he laughs, but it's strained. "look—i like you. probably more, but i'm trying not to scare you—any more than i already have, i mean. i'm not sorry for kissing you, is what i mean. i should just—i should probably go."

"wait," you say firmly before he can untangle himself from your sheets. putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing yourself up to meet his lips, which are soft and dry and parted slightly with surprise.

the kiss is warm and lingers, even after you pull away. tooru stares at you with dazed eyes that make you shy, dropping your own. his voice is quiet but hopeful, contrasting his words in tone when he speaks.

"what the fuck?"

[axelsagewrites]

Dating Felix head cannons

Pairing: Felix X reader

Warnings: none pure fluff

Masterlist here

This boy is so needy

Like yeah sure everyone loves him but he craves your love

He's also very touchy

Like constantly touched starved

So no matter where you are somehow someway he's touching you

Hand on lower back

Pinkies linked

Head on your shoulder

Anyway he can touch you he can

He's also a big cuddler

Like he cannot fall asleep without you in his arms

He tried to insist he'd never be the little spoon

But once he tries it he loves it

He loves to be held and have his head in your lap

Very protective of you

Which can very easily become jealousy

One time he even thought Farleigh was being too close and you had to tell him to reign it in

He does try control his jealousy but not well

So instead of telling the person to fuck off he'll make a point of putting his arm around you

He's definitely a bit emotionally stunted and you avoids anything uncomfortable which at first led to fights

You had to sit him down and explain to him that it's okay to talk about his feelings

Even the bad ones

And teach him to set up boundaries

However once you actually taught him how to communicate you rarely if ever had fights

He likes to read to you at night

Even if your not listening

Whenever your alone he geeks out about books to you

Picnic dates are his favourite

Very PDA heavy

And talks about you all the time

Like non stop

Like Farleigh wants to murder you just so Felix will stop talking

He likes to go on late night walks with you at saltburn

And always suggests skinny dipping

However never lets the others join

He adores when you wear his clothes

Especially when they're far too big for you

Or when you sleep in them

Yes he likes when you get all dressed up but he loves you in comfy clothes

Especially in your sleep attire

No matter how ugly the baggy tee or goofy the slippers

He thinks it's adorable

He also just stares alot

You'll be talking and half way through realise he's not paying attention

He just likes to watch as you talk

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[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

Can I request a ff where reader is lewis hamilton's wife. Like they are married and reader is pregnant then lewis made some mistakes that caused them to fight one night. Reader get so angry/sad and it just makes lewis worried so much about her and grovel A LOT. High angst and fluff towards the end would be cute. THANK YOUU

moth to a flame — LH44 x pregnant!reader

cw: jealous!lewis, pregnant!reader, angst, fluff

note: lewis is so the weeknd coded

masterlist

Your birthday party went well. Well, until your ex boyfriend showed up uninvited and Lewis went crazy about it. Apparently he just wanted to say hi, but the night ended with a physical fight.

When you came back home you were so mad you couldn’t look at him in the eyes, nor you could look at his wounded hand or at the cut on his eyebrow.

“Thank you for ruining my birthday.”

“Thank that prick of your ex.”

You threw your purse on the table. “Oh so it was his fault you pushed him first?”

“C’mon Y/N, he was clearly trying to fuck you.”

You turned to him with a disgusted look on your face. “Not even if he was the last man on earth. We were just talking. Can’t I talk to another man now?”

“He was standing way too close for someone who’s aware of your condition. I’m sorry, I saw red.”

Your gaze inevitably shifted down at your own belly. It’s been almost two months since you found out you were pregnant, so it wasn’t quite visible, though you could feel it very well. “And you think getting in the way between you and him couldn’t have hurt the baby?”

The realisation struck Lewis. “Oh my God, are you okay?” He tried to come closer but you stepped back.

“I’m tired of you being jealous of everyone. You’re supposed to trust me, you’re my husband. I…” You sensed tears in your eyes. Damn it, you didn’t want to cry again. “I should feel safe with you but instead I just feel anxious all the time.”

Lewis came close to hug you. “Don’t. Leave me alone.” You fought back, wiping your eyes with your hands, but that just caused him to strengthen the grip on you until you gave up and abandoned you in his arms. There was no point in trying to fight him.

“You’re right, that was stupid, I fucked up your birthday.” He laid a kiss on your forehead, slowly caressing your hair. “I’m gonna take you some water.”

He escorted you on the sofa and brought you a glass of water from the kitchen. He covered you with a blanket and sat next to you. He touched your cheek with his palm while you drank the water and then put it on the table in front of you.

“Better?” He asked.

“Better.” You looked at him. He had that Bambi look in those big brown eyes and trying to resist it was vain.

You suddenly realized his wounds were still hurting. You sighed. “Bring me bandages and something to disinfect that cut.”

“I’m good, I don’t need–“

“Lewis.” You interrupted him firmly.

He stayed silent. He then nodded, stood up and did as you told him. It certainly wasn’t a good time to contradict you.

When he came back on the couch, you began dabbing his face gently with a wad of cotton dipped in the solution. “He was such a dick.”

A corner of his mouth curved in a little agreeing smile. “Indeed he was.”

You carefully put a band-aid on his eyebrow, then proceeded bandaging his hand. He was watching every actions of yours. You understood he was actually sorry for what he did and you couldn’t help but forgive him. His intentions towards you were kind hearted after all.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re my life. You both are.” His bandaged hand slid down on your belly.

Your hand joined his. “And you’re mine. You know I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else in the world.”

You laid on the couch and he followed you, resting his head on your chest and his body next to yours, careful not to press his weight on your womb.

Your fingers travelled in his soft braided hair. “Besides, there’s nothing about him you should be jealous of. You have everything he doesn’t have.”

“You mean a beautiful wife?”

“I was about to say seven world championships, but I guess a beautiful wife will do as well.”

You both laughed.

He squeezed you more with his arms around your back, turning serious once again. “How are you feeling?” He asked, although he was the injured one.

“Don’t worry, it was nothing.” You stroke his back with your hand. He was so strong, it felt so good having him curled against you like that. You couldn’t imagine anybody else to build a family with.

“I was scared I hurt you. I don’t want to fight. Not only for the baby, I don’t ever want to fight with you.” He kissed your abdomen and buried his face in your neck.

“It’s okay, you could never hurt me.”

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Painting is.......eroticঞ

➺ Character: Rafayel

➺ NSFW. MDNI.

➺ Summary: Rafayel had a plan. An innocent, date night idea. That turned into something...more.

➺ Content: Hand job, kissing, nipple stimulation, blushing Raf.

➺ wc: 600+

To anyone else, this idea seemed like an excuse just to get your hands on him. But it was innocent! He'd tell anyone. Hell, even you thought he had ulterior motives when he'd posed the idea. With a pout and some whining later, you'd finally agree. The idea? This completely normal suggestion?

Painting his body. Nude.

He knows how it sounds, but truly! His intentions were pure. Rafayel just wanted another way to connect you both. For you to intertwine on a deeper level. And what better way than to strip yourselves of the outside world and only be with each other. Raw. Real.

He was going to paint you too, it was a mutual activity. But all he managed to get out was, "You should paint me naked," and it led to this whole debocal. But, thankfully, with his skill in 'pouting' until you give in', he found himself picking up new paints. Ones safe for skin. Returning to his home, where he found you. Already looking done with said activity. Even though he had convinced you...it didn't seem like you believed him. No matter.

"You know, your cold nature is going to end up bringing a draft in my studio. That'd be very bad for my paintings...then I'd be sad, you wouldn't want that, would you?" He watched with small amusement as you rolled your eyes, walking over and grabbing the paints. Then, your finger sought out the dip in his barely button shirt. Dragging it down the expanse of skin you could see.

"Let's paint."

He found himself swallowing thickly, a dust of red already spreading across his cheeks. To the tips of his ears. His heart beating rapidly in his chest, he was afraid it might explode. Innocent. He reminded himself. This was innocent.

༺༻

He held his breath as the cold of the paint brushed against his skin. Your eyes were glued to him. Focused. As you dipped your finger into the paint again, swirling it around, making unrecognizable patterns on his skin. It was supposed to be...innocent but of course, the first place you'd decided to paint was his chest. Way too close to his nipples. His very, very sensitive nipples. But you knew that. In fact, you knew exactly what you were doing. He could tell by the slight twitch of your mouth when you took notice of the slight rise of his cock. Slow but very obvious until it stood to attention. Leaning just slightly, beads of precum dribbling down the tip.

"Thought this was innocent?" You cooed, moving your paint covered finger to his nipple precisely. Milking a pretty (embarrassing) moan from his lips.

"It was! You were the one who -" his words were cut off by another groan. Your other hand, not covered in paint, grasped his shaft. Giving a tentative tug. "This says otherwise...I've barely begun painting, and you're already hard."

"T-Thats because you're..." he moaned again, his eyes squeezing shut as you gave another tug. "Attacked my weak point. You're being unfair." He hissed, his hips thrusting upwards against his will. "Unfair?" You feigned innocence, giving a few more tugs to his dick. "If anything, I'm being nice for not calling you a pervert for getting hard from this." There was a protest on his lips that died, immediate as you leaned forward. Capturing them. His hands clawed at the fuzzy carpet that lay behind him. But soon, even that wasn't enough. A hand found its way into your hair, pulling you closer as he let you devour his mouth. Hips continued to angle upward, seeking out pleasure. Stimulation.

You let go with a sigh, saliva connecting your lips.

"You're all bark and no bite, Rafayel." You smirked, and he knew then, he was finished. Your hand sped up in ways that he couldn't comprehend as he was left to the mercy of you. Tugging and pulling, teasing every inch until finally he came with a stuttered breath.

Painting himself in a way he hadn't before. With his own arousal.

"Mm, I think this might be the prettiest painting you've ever done."

[loupetlapinn]

how do you feel abt noncon with jeonghan? i feel like he’d be so patronizing and mean…like MEAN MEAN i’m talking degrading and mocking you, forcing you to take all of him in your mouth and cunt…

(also im so glad ur account came across my fyp, there’s not much dark svt content)

oh anon this is jeonghan's Domain ok. OH ANON. youre so right, listen.

t/w: noncon, coercion, unprotected sex. a/n: MDNI. dear anon i got carried away. unbetad is my brand. synopsis: jeonghan is just so very mean. w/c: 1.6k . . . feel free to block me.

( glad you found me too. )

He'd always start off so innocently, under the guise of a caring sort of authoritative figure to you. He likes reminding you that he's older than you so he obviously knows what's best for you.

Always 'just trying to make sure you're okay' with near intimate touches ghosting areas you were sure was inappropriate given the circumstances. But he always made it seem like you were being ungrateful when he was just asking a simple question, he was only trying to soothe the apparent tension.

It got to a point where you would try and avoid him, your chest seizing if you catch a glimpse of him in your peripheral, or his voice ringing out a little too close to wherever you were. A part of you felt guilty, maybe you were making things up in your head. Maybe you thought too much of yourself to think he was making advances, he hadn’t actually done anything explicitly wrong . . . He was just being attentive, he even buys you food, remembers the way you like your coffee. He hadn’t even done anything really but there was something that always lingered with you afterwards. Something just felt . . . off. This feeling only further escalated to the point your stomach would be in knots, scampering off quickly to find some nook to hide in to avoid his suffocating presence. Growing tired of trying to politely dodge his wandering eyes and occasionally entitled hands. His mere presence put you on edge. 

“I have to go,” you’d offer a sad excuse before you’re once again scurrying off. You felt like a coward, not sure as to why because although you’ve been polite and discrete as possible about it; you have expressed your discomfort and lack of interest in his wolfish attentions.

Yet, in spite of your efforts to avoid him you still somehow find yourself alone with him more than you’d like. 

“Oh . . . I didn’t um . . .” You clear your throat, immediately taking steps back towards the entrance after an uneasy dip of your head in his direction to acknowledge him before you turned tail and ran the opposite direction once again.

“Didn’t expect to see me?” He smiles, that smile. That completely, utterly Jeonghan smile that you’ve grown to dread seeing.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you. I have to—“

“Go?” he interrupts, head cocking to the side as those dark, hooded eyes glimmer. Akin to a cat finding a mouse to toy with in its idle boredom. 

“You always have to go,” a ghosting of a pout follows his words. His eyes remain emotionless even as he feigns a wounded expression. “If I didn’t know any better . . . I’d think you were avoiding me, Y/N.”

“N-no!” You fumble your words like an idiot, grimacing at yourself. Getting ahead of yourself to placate his invasive tone. “No, not at all. Just, have some deadlines to meet, that’s all.”

Before he has a chance to respond, you’re zipping away. Not wanting to stand there and squirm under the weight of his gaze any longer. Only able to take a sigh of relief once you’re a safe distance away. Heart thudding in your chest.

You swear he does it on purpose, strings you along and riles you up. He likes the way you squirm, he likes the stuttered breaths you take, the way your gaze can’t keep his own, your antsy fingers restless at your sides.

It doesn’t take much longer, Jeonghan can only be so patient. Until he isn’t. He pounces when you least expect it, after letting you think that maybe he took a hint and eased off of you.

“I don’t know why you have to act like such a brat,” he muses with a drawl of agitation as he quite literally corners you.

A shiver runs down your spine and you’re not sure if it’s because of the way he sizes you up as he begins to crowd you, or the coolness of the wall against your skin as you press yourself back against it. Swallowing thickly you shake your head, wide eyed as you peer up at him. He reveled in the way you trembled, the look of distressed confusion etched onto your features as his hands soothe up your sides. Slender yet firm as he palms your chest lazily through your shirt and there it was again. That signature Jeonghan smile, it twists his lips, curling the corners of his mouth as he can’t help but purr his amusement.

“All I’ve ever done is try to be nice to you,” he continues, ignoring the way your hand wraps around his wrist as you urge him to some sort of mercy. “And this is how you repay me? Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners?”

“Don’t worry,” he coos, his free hand abruptly twisting around locks of your hair, sharply angling your face upwards for your eyes to meet his own as you find yourself grimacing again. Those eyes, they looked as though he could swallow you whole right then and there, a snake coiling around its prey. Your heart lurches before plummeting to the depths of your stomach. “I’ll teach you.”

“Jeonghan . . . Jeonghan, please,” you finally find your voice.

He looks at you confounded, head tilting, a brow raising quizzically, “Please? Honey, we have’t even started yet.” An incredulous scoff follows, “I suppose it’s not a bad start though.”

“I’m sorry, really,” you plead and he just gazes at you blankly before offering a sickeningly sweet smile.

It’s a blur, everything. Your shirt yanked down to exposed your chest, he tsk’s at your bra before he’s pulling at that too. Both hands grasping at supple mounds, they’re cold against your skin and your face contorts, nipples hardening under the pads of deft fingers. Pressing yourself further back against the wall as if flattening yourself there would render you invisible, pushing away his hands.

“If you’re so sorry then you’ll make it up to me,” he snaps, his tone even. Eerily steady but it slices through the air as his eyes bore into you, you could feel the heat on your flesh.

A strangled gasp sounds form you as a hand darts to wrap around your throat, his grip bruising.

“What did I fucking say about being a brat, Y/N?” His voice barely a whisper, as your faces are barely inches apart. You could smell the faintest scent of his cologne, it tickles your nose as your mouth gapes. His fingers dig into your skin. “You say thank you when someone’s nice to you.”

One moment your against the wall and the next your forced onto your back upon the nearest table, you’re sputtering, the tight feeling from your neck and chest relieved slightly as you gulp down breaths of air greedily. Coughing from your eagerness to fill your lungs. As you struggle to stop seeing white, Jeonghan takes the liberty discarding your bottoms.

You looked much better like this, spread across the table, eyes unfocused, trying to catch your breath. It wasn’t his fault that he had to teach you a lesson, if you had just behaved in the first place he wouldn’t have had to take this route.

“Now, let’s try that again,” he says, splaying spindly digits upon your thighs to push them apart. Forcefully when you still have the audacity to shake your head tearfully and try to press them back together. It’s pointless and you both know it, thinking you could really keep him from what he wants.

You cry out, head thrown back against the table as his length pushes past your entrance. A slew of curses uttered under his breath as he makes sure to fit every last inch of his cock inside on you. Hissing at the way you spasm around him, the way your body writhes at the sensation of your unprepared heat being breached. The stretch burns, but it matters not to Jeonghan as he experimentally pulls in and out before slamming his hips flush against you.

“What do you fucking say, Y/N?” his voice his guttural, hands squeezing your thighs in a way that would surely leave bruises.

“J-Jeonghan— please,” you whimper out only to keen as he responds with a reprimanding thrust, each more merciless than the last before his fingers find your hair again. “I’m s-sorry— I’m sorry! T-Thank you,” your words minced, unsteady as winces and whimpers follow.

“What was that?” he snickers, hips jackhammering against you, wrapping your hair around his hand to keep a firm grasp on you. To entice more of those fat tears that brim your lashes and trickle down your face. “I can’t understand you when you don’t speak properly, stupid little thing. Now you can’t even talk right? Will I have to teach you that as well?”

Jeonghan can’t help the groans that follow every time you constrict around him, accompanied by the pitiful noises that you seem to have an unending amount of.

“You seem to take cock just fine,” he observes aloud and you bleat out at the savage snap of his hips, “One less thing to teach you.”

He uses your locks as leverage, watching your face twist into pathetic expressions, mascara running down your face as he tortuously continues to wrench at your hair to pull you down to meet his thrusts. “Say it.”

“Thank . . . you.”

“Say it.”

“Thank you, Jeonghan!”

Jeonghan makes sure to drop you to your knees to cum in your mouth when he’s done with you, rivulets of pearlescent release pouring past your lips. Missing purposefully to paint your face to enjoy the fucked out look upon your features.

“A fucking mess,” his voice almost accusatory, like it was all your fault.

“Maybe next time, if you fucking behave for once. You can cum too.”

[jaxon-exe]

Dp x dc prompt

Pit rage isn’t a thing. What actually happens is that a dip in the Lazarus pit forms a temporary ghost core. These cores tho r that of a baby ghost that doesn’t know how to deal with its big feelings which when combined with the trauma of dying and all that leads to murderous tantrums.

Normally with the lack of ectoplasm the core will eventually fade and the tantrums with it but when it comes to Jason it didn’t. Probably having something to do with the way he came back or how long he was dead but doesn’t matter for whatever reason Jason’s core is there to stay. Now over time his cores gotten better at dealing with the big feels™ but it’s still a toddler that doesn’t know what it’s doing.

Enter GK!danny who rans into Jason while in Gotham and is just immediately like- A BABY!!!

And Jason upon seeing Danny is overcome by the need to throw hands (bc ghost socialise threw fighting) and has never dealt with these Big Feels™ so can’t stop himself.

Danny thinks it’s adorable and fights back until the cops r called at which point he’s like- ok bud, I gotta go. I promise we can play again soon- ends the fight then just walks away leaving a very confused Jason who is strangely really sad that the fight is over

Cut to later when the inter Batfam is trying to work out who this guy is and what has he done to Jason??? He’s so sad now??? Why does he miss the random guy he got into a street fight with???

[blueparadis]

+ cw. —› ex-husband aizen souske x (fem)reader, headcanon format, yan!behaviour, smût, angst undertones, marking, jealousy, mentions of breeding kink & baby-trapping | +wc. —0.7kish

+ notes. —› i was listening to cherry waves by deftones ( for the first time ) & this happened. maybe I'll pull this into a fic but for now, have this, please || redirect to blog navigation.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who feels his throat dry, lips corrosive against his favorite drink when he sees you in a cheap restaurant with another guy, considerably younger to y/n, who is alluded in her charms like he was when he first saw her walking down the aisle; when he casually stopped by, at that cheap bar after a long day at work.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who makes sure that from now on he will pay a visit to you and his beloved daughters every weekend so that she does not have to look for affection at some cheap bars and restaurants. This way at least he can ask her if she is actually planning for her second innings or not.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who calls you at ungodly hours: on a warm afternoon or in the dead of night just to let remind you that he will be coming to pick you up after work tomorrow for a weekly visit with his daughters just so his other meetings do not get delayed but all he wants to do is to keep you on watch as much as possible.

+. ex!husband aizen souske occasionally sends gifts to his daughters in order to send his ex-wife expensive presents with personal notes, as if he will return to this home after his work as if he never left.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who checks you out when you're unaware and yet tells you in that familiar deep husky tone: how much those colors suit her that he hated once, how much she looks charming and beautiful, how much she changed since he left and maybe divorce looks good on her : independent and elegant like a free bird.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who thinks her new young boyfriend is not good enough for you, always ends up going to the same restaurants and hotels where he used to take her, just remembering those good old memories.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who wants you back can not just let this opportunity slide, that is, him visiting you when the daughters are not home; so he just asks if you ever regret it or not as if he still can, as if he owns you. And, when he is responded with the same question right back at him he secretly congratulates himself for getting under your skin.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who knows your weak points lets you walk away knowing very well that you will turn around to have a last glance at him. So, all he would do is not turn his gaze when you have already walked passed by him, so that when you turn around all he has to do is to grab your wrists above her head saying, “Answer me. I asked you a question. Do you or do you not regret it?”

+. ex!husband aizen souske who is currently inches apart from you, staring right into your eyes while you squirm and look away but his hold on you grows only stronger when he sees your beautiful eyes glistening more than it usually does, perhaps he scared you a bit, cocks his head to a side, in the dip of your neck inhaling her scent murmuring, “Still wearing that perfume I gifted you, huh ?”

+. ex!husband aizen souske who is absorbed in the good old memories of you, your scent, and what he used to do whenever you used to cry and look sad is now slowly curling his arms around your waist while his lips drag from the corner of your lips to the neckline and then on to collar bones.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who smirks the moment he hears you moaning, even if it's feeble he lets go of her hands so that you can rest them over his shoulders while he could carry her to the nearby cupboard top to make you feel less lonely. He has fucked her there, made babies with her and he can do it again.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who could already feel you gripping the collar of his suit while he presses his hard-on against your entrance is already marking all the way up your exposed neckline so that whenever you meet with your new young boyfriend, he would take the hint right away. There is no way he is losing to a mere boy like Gin Ichimaru. He has to be the better one.

– @tokyometronetwork & @underratedcharactercorner

@semisgroupie & @sailewhoremoon ( cuz you two like himmm ... that's why I tagged?! )

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt 56

part 1 | part 55 | ao3

March

"Steve, honey," Claudia calls from the living room, where he can hear her shuffling around to get her things ready for work — the rustle of a jacket, the clink of keys against her thermos. "Do you need anything before you go?"

"I'm fine, Ma!" Steve answers.

And he is. He is fine. It’s been three weeks, and Steve is fine! He has a date tonight with a girl he doesn’t care about, and he's gonna cheer on Lucas at the championship game, and the other day at work he got a fifty cent per hour raise. And sure, his nightmares are worse than ever and his head aches all the time, and he’s had some weirdly persistent sinus infection or some shit going on, but he only teared up once this week while jerking off to thoughts of Eddie, so.

All in all, not bad.

He shoves a plain bagel in his mouth and rushes to leave the house; passes Claudia on the way out, who's now rapping her knuckles impatiently against Dustin’s door and asking, “Dusty, what’s going on in there? You’re gonna be late!" to which Dustin replies with a panicked shriek: “DON’T COME IN, I’M NAKED!”

Jesus Christ. "Deafen my other ear, why don't you?" Steve mutters under his breath.

He throws Ma a parting wave and heads out to pick up Robin so he can take her to school before his shift starts. She looks nicer than usual, and she won’t stop reapplying her mascara, and by the time Object of My Desire starts playing on the radio Steve is practically begging her to just suck it up and end this will-they-won’t-they thing with Vickie because it’s been months of obvious flirting and Robin still won’t make a move.

“I listen to you, and now look at me!” he argues, as if the handful of pointless dates he’s used to distract himself from Eddie are anything to look at. “Boom. Back in business.“

“Mm,” she objects, a little ‘you’re so full of shit’ frown on her face. “Not the same thing.”

Don’t say it, you bitch, don’t even—

“You ask out a girl and she says no…”

Oh, thank fuck. Steve sags in relief and licks the corner of his mouth as he listens to her rant, grateful that she’s just working the small town homophobia angle and very graciously not pointing out how half-hearted and sad his attempts to move on with his life have been. It’s a small mercy he repays by rambling about girls and boobies and girls who definitely like boobies until she scowls so hard at him that she smudges her mascara and has to apply another coat.

—

Dustin calls the store some time around lunch. Asks if Steve wants to sub in for Lucas at tonight’s Hellfire campaign, which, first of all, fuck you — he’s been helping Lucas practice for months now, he’s not about to miss this game — and secondly:

“What, to hang out with you and Eddie the Freak Munson?” he asks, idly playing with a slinky. “Uh, yeah. I’ll pass.”

"Dude."

"What?"

"You can’t just call him names because you’re pissed at him! That’s not cool!”

Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the slinky so hard it flops off the counter’s edge.

“Look,” Dustin says, his voice dipping into that low and slow and trustworthy thing that makes Steve want to snap the kid’s non-existent collarbones. “I know you won’t tell me what happened, but whatever it was, he’s sorry, okay? He’s really, really sorry. And he asks me about you, like, every day; if I didn’t know any better I’d swear he was in love with you or something.” Steve chokes on his own spit, and Dustin just keeps going; steps right over Steve’s corpse to continue his impassioned plea. “Besides, friends forgive each other! Right, Steve?”

Goddammit. Steve really regrets saying those exact words in that exact order the last time Lucas and Dustin had a fight. “Man, you can’t just use my own brotherly advice against me.”

“I can, and I will.” Wow. What a little shit. “Seriously, dude, come on! How many times do I have to pass on his apology messages before you just talk to him?”

How many times? How many times?

Steve doesn’t know.

He just knows he’s not ready; knows that as soon as he talks to Eddie, it’ll make it all real. It’ll be over for good. Whatever words they exchange next will get etched into the headstone of the thing they briefly had. He opens his mouth to say something, to try and make sense of the vortex in his head, but all he gets for the effort is a fresh migraine coming on.

He’s saved from answering by the doorbell’s chime. “I got some customers,” he says over Dustin's squawk of protest. “Gotta call you back, bye.”

—

part 57

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[rainylana]

“Stay the night.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: after eddie gets his ass kicked for helping you out, you show up to his trailer to aid his wounds.

warnings: enemies to lovers, fighting, slight harassment, very brief smut sorry y’all, jason carver as his cunt self, mostly told from eddie’s perspective, i don’t want to give away the major plot twist in this so all i’ll say is that there is talk of major physical trauma/abuse, also credits to @vol2eddie for helping me with the idea! also, should i do a part two to this?

pt 2

The only reason he even debated going and helping you was because of Wayne’s golden rule. Always respect women. Help them when they need it. Protect them. Wayne was old fashioned when it came to his viewpoints, but he made sure Eddie was raised well and had a good morale compass. Right now, Eddie was cursing it. Of all people.

He was just about to hop in his van to leave school for the day when the basketball team caught his eye, and the pretty girl they surrounded. He threw his backpack through his rolled down window and rested a hand on his hip, watching through his dark sunglasses. “Oh, shit.” He said, realizing you were the girl who’s attention had been caught from the pubescent young men.

Eddie hated you, and you him. It had been like that for years. Everyone knew it. Everyone knew you too couldn’t tolerate being in the same room together. The school guidance counselor even had to change two of his classes so he wouldn’t have to engage with you. He didn’t like to think about way back when, the days you where once friends. It almost made him sad.

“Fuck,” He turned to get in his van, let it be, but it was clear whatever they were saying to you was making you very uncomfortable. When he seen Jason Carver, enough was enough. “Damn it.”

He trudged up the hill to the patch of grass you were standing in, a beating in his heart indicating his nervousness. “Hey!” He barked, getting the attention of everyone. He tried his best not to look small. 

“Munson?” Carver raised a brow, surprised to see him. “May we help you with something?”

You locked eyes with Eddie, face masked in surprise and curiosity. Jason had cornered you, along with his goons, trying to get you to go out with him. As if you’d ever go out with him. You loathed him. He wouldn’t let you pass, wouldn’t let you say no. By the time he had grabbed your elbow, Eddie Munson had shown his face in the crowd, the last person you had expected to see.

Eddie and you had history. Not good history, either. You used to be very close in 7th grade. Almost best friends. To this day, Eddie didn’t know why you dipped and broke his young heart. You never gave him a reason. It wasn’t important for him to know. Besides, it was easier to hate him.

“Just seeing what the problem was.” Eddie shrugged, looking away from you to Jason, trying to keep his shoulders tall and broad. Jason was significantly taller than him.

“Problem?” Jason shook his head. “No, no, there’s no problem. Just curious as to why you suddenly give a shit about y/n over here.” He laughed, along with his friends.

He laughed, too. Carver had a point. Still, golden rule, Eddie. Golden rule. “Yeah, well,” He took a step toward him. “Just making sure no one was uncomfortable.”

He ignored you completely now. He wouldn’t look at you.

“Uncomfortable?” Jason scoffed. “Freak Munson is getting brave, boys! I think if you don’t step back, man, the only one who will be uncomfortable is you.”

God, he’d almost broken his record. He’d gone almost 10 days without a black eye. He sighed heavily, bringing back his fist.

•

“What do you want?” Eddie was surprised to see you on the porch of his trailer, caressing a first aid kit in your hands. It was late, almost nine o’clock. There was a chill in the air and you had a thick coat wrapped around you.

“You have a black eye.” You pointed out awkwardly, shifting your weight. “I came here to…well, thank you for what you did. And to patch you up. You’ve got a little cut up there.” You lifted your finger.

“Mhm, I’m aware.” He said, holding a cold beer to his eyebrow. “But I don’t need your thanks and I don’t need you freezing to death on my porch. I didn’t do any of that for you.”

You sniffed in the cold, closing your arms to your chest. “Oh? Then why did you?”

He rolled his eyes, debating kicking you off his porch steps. “Look, my uncle taught me to respect women, okay? Look out for…well, your breed.”

You held your head high. “I see. Very admirable of you. You gonna let me in so I can help?” You let yourself in anyways, pushing past him. You tried not to stare and recall the memories of when you’d last been inside his home. It had been many years.

“Hey!” Eddie slammed the door shut. “This is breaking and entering!”

“You’re gonna preach to me about the law?” You raised a brow, taking off your coat. “You of all people?”

“How bout shuttin’ the fuck up, eh?” He plopped down on his couch, glaring at you. “I don’t need any of your help to begin with.”

“But you let me in.” You kicked off your boots, giving him a pointed look.

“I can kick you out anytime, L/n.” He stared at you through his lashes. “I suggest you doctor me up before you’re kicked to the curb.”

Your both stared at each other for a moment before you sat beside him on the couch. He stiffened when you touched his cut with an alcohol wipe, making you apologize softly under your breath. Neither him nor you thought you’d be in such close proximity ever again. It felt awkward, at least that’s how Eddie saw it. It was awkward and unconscious. He wanted you gone, but he couldn’t deny that your touch was almost a little bit comforting to his throbbing headache.

“I really do mean it,” You broke the silence, noticing the small cuts on his knuckles. He’d gotten in several good punches, but he looked like shit. “I appreciate what you did, even if it wasn’t for me. I owe you this.”

He flexed his fingers when you started dabbing at his ring finger. “You don’t owe me anything.”

You wrapped a small bandaid around his pinky finger, switching to his other hand where it had been bruised. “Still. Thank you, Eddie. Those guys are jerks.”

“What did they want, anyways?” He found himself contributing to the conversation.

“Jason was trying to convince me to go out with him,” You paused to look at him, the sudden look of your eyes startled him, his body tense and uncomfortable. “I said no but he wouldn’t listen. He grabbed my arm. That’s when you showed up.”

Eddie scoffed lightly. “Yeah, sounds about right for Carver. Piece of shit, if you ask me.”

“I agree.” You nodded, wiping away dried blood around his knuckles.

You both found it odd that you were having a normal conversation, not a screaming match. It was kind of nice actually. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.” You sighed, wrapping another finger in a bandaid. “How’s Wayne?”

“He’s fine.” He said dismissively.

Your eyes dropped and you looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at you this time, only the floor. It killed you that Eddie hated you so bad. It killed you that you had to hate him. You wished you could explain things to him. Make the world twist back in time. But again, it was easier to hate him. Wasn’t it?

“I’ll get this done so I can go.” You halfway muttered, causing Eddie to look at you. He found himself not wanting you to leave.

“Sorry.” He licked his lips. “Old man is fine. Working everyday. Bringing home the bacon. Same old. You remember that, I’m sure.” He leaned back on the couch, allowing you to decorate his fingers with bandaids. He didn’t question the girly designs on them.

You breathed heavily. “Yes, I do. I miss him.”

When was the punchline? You two didn’t do this. You didn’t coerce with one another. “Why are you really here?” Eddie questioned you.

“What do you mean?” You paused your work.

“You come here to mock me or something?” He raised his brow, an inquisitive tone in his deep voice. “Tell me I shouldn’t have gotten in the way?”

“No.” You said firmly, placing his hand down. “I told you why I’m here.”

“Well, I don’t believe you.” He sat up to glare at you, dark curls tossed behind his shoulder.

“I’m not out to get you, Eddie!” You raised your voice. “Believe it or not, I came here with sincere intentions.”

He scoffed. “Sincere intentions, huh? That what you thought when you ditched me in eighth grade? Was that sincere intentions?”

“You don’t know the whole story, Eddie!” You snapped, gathering your trash and standing up. “You can hate me all you want but it’s not fair. Nothing about anything is fair!” You ranted, throwing your bandaid sleeves in the trash.

Eddie’s eyes were wide, startled. He looked down to his hands, seeing the pink and purple bandaids. An awkward silence ensued.

“I’m really sorry, Eddie.” Your voice broke across the room, making him snap his head up. Were you crying? “I never wanted any of this to happen. It just…I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.” You were crying.

Eddie stiffened. He didn’t know what to do. Here, his mortal enemy was crying in his home. He had the urge to kick you out, yet comfort you at the same time. But how was he to do that? “You’re not making any sense, L/n.” He said awkwardly.

“I know, I know.” You had your back to him, waving your hand. “I’m sorry, I know. I just…wish things could be different. I wish you could know…how sorry I am that things turned out the way they did.”

He raised one singular brow, mouth falling in ajar. He’d never been more confused in his life. “Listen, Y/n, I’m feeling very uncomfortable right now so…you want a beer or something?” He tried to contribute to the conversation in some helpful manor.

You turned, stilling his movements at the sight of your tears and snotty nose. He swallowed hard. “You alright?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I just…can we talk about somethings?”

“What things?”

“Things from back then.”

“Back then as….?”

“Eighth grade.”

No, not really. He didn’t want that. But did he? This could be his chance to get some answers, and it was clear you were ready to give them. He halfway wanted to turn you away, but the sight of your tears made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want you crying, oddly enough.

“Yeah, okay.” He gave up with a heavy sigh, patting the seat on the couch next to him for you to sit.

When you sat down next to him, your shoulders brushed and he stiffened. He cleared his throat, fiddling with his hands. You wiped your face with your sleeve. Maybe he should’ve offered you a tissue. Did he even have those?

“You remember my parents, right?” You started, making him scoff.

“Yeah, they’re assholes. Why?”

Here goes nothing. You turned to put your back to him, placing your hands at the side of your shirt. With one movement, you lifted it over your head, leaving you in your red bra.

Eddie jumped like a startled deer, but settled when he saw what was in front of him. Your back was decorated in thick, red marks, splatted across it’s length. Eddie couldn’t help but move closer, his jaw falling slack. He placed his hand on your shoulder to get a better look.

“You knew they hated you.” Your voice was thick with tears. “Especially my dad. He said you were evil and wicked. He said you’d…you’d take- advantage of me. He said if I didn’t stop being your friend then he’d..he’d, he’d kill you.”

Eddie felt like he was going to be sick. He knew these marks were from a belt. A thick one. You were bruised everywhere. He stomach churched and he thought he was going to be sick. He traced a bruise with his finger.

“My parents are creative when it comes to dealing out punishments.” You laughed without humor, a crack in your voice. “Eddie, I know you hate me, but I hope you don’t really hate me. Because I don’t hate you. I never have. It was just easier to let you go. I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

It was like Eddie had been transported back to eighth grade. His hair was buzzed and he had horrible acne scars and buck teeth, but you were still as beautiful as he’d ever thought. Eddie’s heart had broke and it was as if no time had past, there had been no water under the bridge you were standing on.

He got up and moved to the other end of the couch where he could see your face, and he pulled you in for a hug, careful where he put his arms. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He pleaded with you. “Forgive me, I’m so so sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t help but cry in his arms, relishing the feeling of having your friend back. “It’s okay. Just hold me.”

He scooted closer and held you tighter. Mentally, his mind was a battlefield, connecting dots and pieces of a puzzle that he hadn’t known existed. Everything made so much sense now. He hated every bit of it.

Eddie held you for almost an hour. You both laid on the couch where you stayed on top of his chest, torsos flush against the other. It was extremely intimate. Eddie asked the questions he wanted, to which he finally got answers to. It made you feel so much better, a weight that wasn’t no longer pressed against your windpipe.

Within the minutes, you were both looking at each other, staring into each other’s eyes with a gentle softness. Eddie wanted so badly to kiss you, a thought he never imagined would cross his mind. He also hoped you weren’t aware of his slight hard on. After all, a beautiful girl was laying on top of him, shirtless.

“Kiss me.” You said through a whisper, brave and quiet.

Eddie gulped, giving a slight nod. “Okay.”

He leaned in until his plush lips were soft against yours. With a tiny movement, he kissed you, opening his mouth ever so slightly to deepen the kiss. It really wasn’t even much of one. It was so delicate and soft as snow, but it meant the world to you. When you put your hand on his cheek, he took it as a sign to kiss you harder. He did, pressing his face into yours and opening his lips wide to give you his tongue. Your lips lapped and licked and your breath was hard in each other’s faces.

You felt the heat between your legs throb. You couldn’t but moan. He groaned right back. As much as he wanted to have you, now wasn’t a good time. It wasn’t the right time, not of all circumstances. He gave you one last kiss before he pulled away. You were almost sweating. He smiled, pulling you back into his chest. “Stay the night.”

[holylulusworld]

Falling leaves - Flufftober 6

Summary: He’s a grump, but for you, he’s willing to change.

Rating: Teen

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: Y4: Holding hands

Square filled for @allcapsbingo (expired): O1: Pining

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, friends to more, general cuteness, Sunny vs grumpy trope

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

Words: 824

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

“Please for me,” you look at Bucky, who sits on the least comfortable chair in your apartment. Legs spread, and a grumpy expression on his face he glares at the colorful scarf in your hands. ��I’ll look good on you. We will match. I made the same for me.”

“I don’t do scarves, doll. I’m not cold. It’s still warm outside,” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. He loves that you like to make things for him, but you’ll not convince him to wear a colorful scarf.

“Fine,” puckering your lips you look at Bucky. “I’ll wear mine and you can go in your leather jacket. If you get cold, I won’t keep you warm.” You point your index finger at Bucky. “Now. Let’s head out.”

“Head out?” He furrows his brows. “I thought you wanted me to come over to help you repair your sink. “Where do you want to go?”

You put your hands on your hips and huff. “I told you it’s the perfect day for a walk in the park. I want to collect a few leaves too. You were the one bringing my leaking sink up. Please don’t leave me hanging. I don’t want to go alone.”

Bucky watches you wrap the scarf around your neck. He smiles as you glance at him now and then. He’s not immune to your charm and already gets up from his seat to go for a walk in the park with you.

“I won’t wear the scarf,” he grumbles as you look at him. You’ve got this look. The one making his heart melt whenever he’s around you. “I mean it.”

“I know,” you try not to sound too sad. “You can wear your neck naked, like a real man.” You grab your bag and the peacock green slouchy knit beanie matching your scarf. “I’ll be warm and cozy.”

“You’re freezing all the time,” Bucky points out as you try to ignore he’s so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s your friend and nothing else you tell yourself once again. “Maybe we can have a hot chocolate or tea after you collect your leaves.”

You grin. “It’s a date,” you exclaim, taking Bucky by surprise. “We can have a slice of pumpkin pie or apple pie if you like.”

“Sure,” he watches you grab your keys. “I prefer apple pie. My ma made the best, but there’s this little bakery I discovered when I first came back to Brooklyn.”

You’re suddenly reminded of Bucky’s past. This city was his home before it was yours. He’s, just like his best friend Captain America, a man out of time.

“Look at all the beautiful leaves,” you smile widely as your eyes land on the colorful trees and the leaves on the ground. “Let’s hurry before someone else grabs the best leaves. I need them for my next art project.”

“We will get them,” he assures you. “Which ones do you want?”

“Uh-the pretties ones,” you shrug. “I’ll know when I see them.” You crouch down to pick the first leaf up. “Bucky? Did you hear me?”

You dip your head only to watch Bucky glare at a guy who crouched down to pick a leaf up. “HEY! Hands off the leaves! These are for my doll!”

Your eyes widen when Bucky storms toward the man to snatch the leaf out of his hands.

“Bucky, it’s fine. There are more than enough leaves,” you place your hand on his back to stop him from killing the poor guy. “Let him go.”

“He tried to steal one of your leaves,” Bucky argues, but he hands the leaf back to the man. “Look for leaves somewhere else. This spot is ours.”

The man runs off, grumbling under his breath. “That was,” you grab Bucky’s hand and hold it, “very nice of you.”

“He tried to take the leaves away from you,” he dips his head to glance at you. “I can’t let him steal your leaves.”

You nod. “How about we collect a few leaves and have this walk we were talking about earlier?”

“Wait here. I’ll get the best leaves for you,” he runs off to look for the prettiest leaves. You watch Bucky for a while. He crouches down to pick up leaves, looking at peace. “Wait, I’ll help you.”

“That was nice,” on your way out of the park you are holding Bucky’s hand. You smile softly as he proudly carries the leaves you collected in a bag.

“Do you want to go home, or have some tea and a slice of pie,” he asks, hopefully looking at you.

“We can grab some pie and go to my place to have tea. Maybe you can stay for dinner,” you look up at Bucky. “Only if you don’t have plans for tonight.”

“It’s a date,” he says, squeezing your hand. “And tomorrow, we can go for another walk. I’ll wear the scarf too.”

Tags in reblog.

[itstheghostofmypast]

Always, Any Day

Idol Park Seonghwa x (F)Reader

Summary: At this point it didn't matter who was more sad, who was hurt or who was to blame, all that mattered was that they were always there for each other.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: insecurities

Est.Read Time: 14 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Ratings: nc-17

Banner: @cafekitsune

“A bunny?” his deep voice a bit too loud for the silence that surrounded them, causing her to shush him, earning an eye roll, before he rolled his chair closer to the bed where she was sprawled out, “Why can’t I be like a tiger or a dragon?”

“Because Ddeongbyeoli is a bunny too and- you don’t look like a tiger and thank god not like a dragon, why would you want to look like a scale-covered serpent.” She mumbled, eying him, thinking of throwing something at him to get his attention, but she knew he’d get all finicky about his room remaining clean- God, why did she love him?

“Because why not? They’re cool.” The timbre of his voice almost had her shiver, who knew behind the face of an angel, sat the spawn of Satan who wasn’t paying attention to his poor little girlfriend- horrible behavior, just negligence, tsk.

"Plus, San agrees with me." She mumbled, leaning against his pillows, glancing away from her phone to his hunched back, he was hunched over his desk, so close to the screen his face might as well be glued to it at this point.

"Yah....why are you having these conversations with him?" He scoffed, the clicking of his mouse loud and noisy, causing her to grimace, she was in pain as it was, her senses heightened to the max, which was why she needed him to pay attention to her, hence the stupid topic of conversation. 

"Because he actually spends time with me when he calls me over." With a small huff, she turned to her side, wincing when she felt another cramp, dropping her phone on the bed as she curled into a fetal position, trying to breathe out the pain, too upset and emotional to even ask him for help.

"Calls you over?" pausing at the statement he sat up straight, only turn around in his chair to look at her, to further brew upon his accusational lecture that was on the tip of his tongue, his angelic features furrowed and visibly upset, "What do you mean, do you two hang out without me- are you okay?” The instant change of tone, the voice of concern almost made her emotional- man being a woman was difficult.

He got up to move closer to her, the bed dipping when he got on the bed, the micro shift of angle causing her to whine and curl up harder, mumbling, “Yeah, just woman things, you know.” She huffed, cracking open an eye when he slowly turned her onto her back, smiling down at her, though she was more engrossed by his hair, watching the silky strands cascade down, framing his face, making him appear as beautiful as a deity, she hit it hard with lady luck this time. Slowly reaching up to caress his cheek she smiled, twirling a lock of his hair in her fingers, “You’re very pretty, Hwa.” Her whispers did not stop there, eyes drinking in his blushed features, basking in his humility and beauty, “How can you look so pretty and handsome at the same time?”

“Stop” he whispered back placing his hand on hers, nuzzling his face into her palm before pressing a soft kiss onto it, “You should have told me.” He sighed, clasping her hand in his, lowering it to press his lips onto her knuckles, eying her tired features, “Have you been resting well?”

“I’ve been resting just fine, I-” pausing momentarily she let the cramp pass before sighing, “I sleep early, mind you.”

Raising an eyebrow at her he glanced up at the clock at his bedside, “I- you’ve been here since ten, there is no way you sleep early.” He sighed before pulling back, ignoring her whining and complaining, truth be told he loved it when she was all clingy like that, if there was one thing Park Seonghwa loved to do, it was to take care of others, and who else than his girlfriend?

“Where are you going?” she whined, trying to get up but his hand on her shoulder pressed her down, watching him intently as he pulled back, only to pull the covers on top of her form, “I’m going to get you a hot water bottle and some tea…maybe something to eat too, I’m sure the guys ordered something nice last night, stay here and don’t move.”

She watched him walk out, making sure to take her heart with him as he walked into the kitchen, surprisingly it was quiet, so it either meant everyone was asleep or they were up to no good- well, Hongjoong must’ve been at the studio, he barely ever came home at a decent time. Silently he opened the cabinet, thinking of making her something to eat too, perhaps a sandwich, did they have peanut butter? With the tea on the stove he hummed to himself, thinking of how he wanted to surprise her today, which is why he had called her over so he could show her the things he got for them, well, clothes- yes, he had gotten them couple shirts, hoodies, jackets and even a pair of converse. Unfortunately, he wasn’t home today, but Wooyoung was and he had asked him to take the parcels when they were to be delivered but he had slept through most of the day so he never knew when the delivery had come, well the parcel was shipped back to the seller because of him- though he couldn’t really be mad at Wooyoung, right? Wrong. This involved his little cutie-pie he had every right to be upset with him, which is why he punished him by banning him from meeting or talking to her for a week, which is why he had gobbled down the chocolate she brought for Wooyoung, snatching it from her hand claiming, ‘Woo is on a diet’. Moreover, he had spent the last hour trying to communicate with the seller, typing and clicking away to arrange a new delivery time and date, because of that he had neglected his baby, and had even forgotten that her period date was near, like why else would a grown man have a period tracking app in his phone- that was an uncomfortable conversation to have with Hongjoong who one day found him marking the date on the app’s calendar.

Making his way back to his room, tray in hand, a couple of nicely cut triangular sandwiches, with no edges, slightly toasted and generously coated with peanut butter and jelly, along with a cup of good old green tea to help with the cramps he smiled to himself, reflecting upon how wonderful of a boyfriend truly was, and how much time he was going to spend with her now, pampering her throughout the night too- only his little parade came to an end when he saw his bedroom door ajar, didn’t he close it before going to the kitchen? Did she leave to go to the washroom? But she would often ask him to check if it was empty or if it was okay for her to use it. The sound of incoherent chatter had him marching to the room, slamming the door open to catch the two in the act.

Well, technically there was nothing wrong happening, his angel was reclining against his pillows, hugging Ddeongbyeoli in her lap as she watched Wooyoung talk, most animatedly, a pleasant smile plastered on her sweet features, but it was the presence of this feral being that irked him, especially when he had ignored Seonghwa’s warnings and punishment, its as if this brat didn’t even listen to him anymore.

“What you doing here?” he spat, walking into the room, glaring at the man who was seated on HIS swivel chair, “Get out.” With that he kicked the chair away from the bed, watching it roll onto the other end before placing the tray on her lap, smiling at her with the million-dollar Hwa smile, “Here, angel, make sure to drink it while it's warm.” Though his warm eyes and words were met with a cold stare and a frown, much to his displeasure, of course, Wooyoung was playing the favorite parent game.

“Why did you lie about Woo being on a diet?” she whispered-yelled at him, eying the boy (or manchild as Seonghwa would say) at the other corner of the room, playing with the strings of his hoodie like a sad little boy.

“I didn’t, I-” sighing he paused standing up straight to look at her, was she serious, but the way she raised her eyebrows at him had him rolling on the ground -figuratively- of course, she’d go out of the way to make everyone feel welcomed and loved, this was who she was and this was why he loved her to the ends of the heaven, but man, her empathy was now interfering with his power dynamics at home. “He’s being punished.” Was all he said, no, concluded before sitting next to her picking up a sandwich, and pressing it against her lips, “Eat up, angel, and ignore the brat, don’t listen to him, we’ve spoiled him too much for his own good.”

“No, we haven’t,” she mumbled, taking it from him so she could eat on her own but he didn’t budge, instead clicked his tongue, “He ruined my surprise for you-”

“It was an accident! I said I was sorry!” He cut him off, only for Seonghwa to turn to him, pointing at him, “You also barged into my room like you own it! What if she was in her comfortable clothes!?”

“You mean naked? Just say nake-” He paused, trying to suppress his inner Wooyoung, even though her chuckle had him smiling in glee, especially when he noticed how Seonghwa looked like his head was about to explode, mission accomplished “I knocked before I came in, I didn’t know she was here today, I was coming to apologize to you.” He smiled at the man who was still frowning at him, sure he knew Wooyoung was sorry, but he was still visibly upset about it, he had actually thought of taking her out soon, possibly wearing the couple attire to match and look all cutesy.

“Hwa…he said he’s sorry, I know you can’t be so mad because of a delay in shipping,” she smiled reaching for his hand, lacing their fingers together when he turned back to look at her with a pout, her heart almost shattered when she noticed the moisture in his eyes, this was important for him, she could tell- truth be told, she had been wanting to talk to him for a while now, she knew how busy he had been with promotions and shoots, she’d seen him work his butt off, sleep deprive himself, starve himself and tire himself out- the only sane stress reliever he had was buying cute things, so she could understand how upset he must’ve been when he couldn’t receive his parcel today, in addition to sorting out the issue that took up the time they could be spending together. Her Hwa was really the sweetest person she’d ever known.

His head dipped in guilt, maybe he was a bit too rough on him, he didn’t really need to yell at Wooyoung- more importantly who was he to decide who she could be friends with and whom she should ignore, that wasn’t his place, he was her boyfriend, not an obsessive, controlling monster-  God, she must think he’s weird. He really doesn’t know when he did, but a few moments later his face was buried in the crook of her neck, sniffing as she soothingly rubbed his back, his arms wrapping around her frame, silently weeping, ashamed that Wooyoung had seen him break down like this, ashamed that he had his lover – who was already in a pain- comfort him instead of the other way around. His deep voice rumbling, as he mumbled one apology after another, though she shushed him, pulling him closer, as she kissed the top of his head, smiling at the scent of the familiar shampoo, “It’s okay Hwa, we all know you’re tired, you need to rest too.” She whispered, resting her chin atop of his head, letting him pour out his heart.

She eyed Wooyoung who pouted in guilt before quickly standing up and leaving the room, not that she minded it, she wasn’t upset with him in the first place, he was obviously as tired as Seonghwa, so it was natural for him to make a mistake- maybe next time she’d tell Hwa to get his stuff delivered at her place, she worked near her home anyway, and she’d be able to receive the things for him, instead of troubling anyone else- especially all the hardworking boys, including her own lover.

“Are you… feeling better?” she smiled when he finally pulled back, wiping his cheeks with the back of her sleeve, “Hwa, didn’t I tell you to not overburden yourself? Hmmm?” she whispered, caressing the swollen under eyes, “You don’t need to get me things to prove you love me, I already know that, you make sure I don’t forget it- I know you love me forever, always, any day.” Leaning forward she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, caressing the hair away from his eyes, tucking a few strands behind his ear, watching him hiccup, before slowly pushing her hand away as he whispered, trying to keep his trembling voice at bay, “I was supposed to be taking care of you…not you…I’m sorry” he whined, only to let out another sob, causing her to sigh and pull him into a proper hug, squeezing him close and tight, “Hwa, it’s okay, I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay- just calm down, please?” she tried to reassure him, over and over again, only to stop when there was a knock on the door, causing her to look up at Wooyoung, nodding at him, allowing him to come in as he cleared his throat.

“So, these aren’t done, I’ve been working on these, I originally planned on giving you each pair on your respective birthdays- but since I am at fault here and Seonghwa- can you please stop crying and look over here, I am trying to be the bigger person!” he scoffed, placing the shoe boxes on the edge of the bed, only for Seonghwa to immediately pick them up and place them on his desk, clicking his tongue, staring at the younger one, with a rosy nose and swollen eyes- definitely threatening, as he hissed, “The bed will get dirty.”

“…Sir I- wow, you really know how to ruin the moment huh?” the younger one bit back only to stop when she cleared her throat, “You were saying Woo?” her voice sweet and gentle, but he could sense the edge, he could tell he was testing her patience now too, perhaps because she was busier trying to console her boyfriend, trying to pick up the fallen pieces and place them back together.

“S-sorry, what I mean, is…just open the boxes, I knew your size anyway.” He mumbled handing each their box before going back to stand near the door. The two flipped open the lid to find a pair of matching Converse, customized by Wooyoung- well in the process, but the detailing was immaculately executed, with a minimalistic finesse, the choice of colour screamed Wooyoung though, causing her to smile and look at Seonghwa, “Would you look at that Hwa, he really knew what his big brother wanted all along.”

Nodding quietly Seonghwa cleared his throat and turned to look at Wooyoung, about to speak but he raised his hand to stop him, “Don’t thank me, just know that my privileges to talk to her aren’t linked to you being in a relationship with her, but with my friendship with her.” With that dramatic monologue, he walked out of the room, leaving the older one shaking his head in defeat, only to turn around to find her scooting to the wall, making room for him, “Well I’m done with my tea but I sure could use help finishing the sandwiches, especially with someone I could watch a film with.”

Smiling at her he nodded, lifting the blankets to move closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, enjoying the feeling of her snuggling closer to him as he propped up his phone on the tray, scrolling with his free hand, basking in the attention she was giving him, eying him from below, drawing intricate patterns on his shirt, before snuggling closer and wrapping an arm around him, “I love you, Hwa, don’t forget that, ever.”

He could only nod at the statement, he had never forgotten that, he could never forget that, he only ever meant for her to feel the same amount of love she would shower him with- if not possibly more. He wanted her to feel that he would always be there for her, always would be there to love her, to solve her problems, and perhaps even have her be the only person he could be vulnerable with- for he was hers to love, always, any day.

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@mlysalt @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Happy with the staff content this year but am I the only one who is disappointed with the PV we got? It's basically a slideshow of art we've already seen, major downgrade from the year 1 PV that had literally all the events. There was a drop in quality of the anniversary PVs over the years and it really shows this year. Sorry if you find this too negative I don't mean to hate I just wish Twst would do better for it's ANNIVERSARY.

[For everyone's reference, here are the anniversary PVs in order of release: 2021 / 2022 / 2023 / 2024]

Mmm, now that you mention it, I noticed this trend with the Halloween PVs 🤔 For year 1, there was a video that showed all members of the NRC casy, even those that did not receive cards at that time. There were then several short variants of the PV released for year 2/Endless Halloween Night (part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4). Altogether, they feature all of the characters, including the students from year 1 but heavily shadowed and with glowing eyes to indicate ghostly possession. Even Glorious Masquerade features all of the students that get new cards for the event plus Rollo, although there are notably more still shots here. The Stage in Playful Land CM, by comparison, is significantly shorter and only shows us the three SSRs (Ace, Ortho, and Kalim) as well as the two new characters (Fellow and Gidel).

As this anon has said, the anniversary PVs have changed a lot over time too. The first one was the most animated and integrated several event outfits. The second one was also animated a fair amount, but you can tell corners were cut in some places where they transition to photographs/still images. This alone works thematically given that the player is a photographer, but you can still catch dips in quality when it comes to the art style. I remember finding Deuce running and the Kalim + Silver flying scene odd, as well as Jade and Trein's faces strange in general. Then the third PV rolls around and it only features the third years; the animation also seems to be much more sluggish (although this could be a stylistic choice; not sure). A friend actually recently pointed out to me that Lilia's pose looks like he was pulled straight from other assets; his artwork in the animation is almost the exact same as his smiling expression in the game. This year's is the most different (+ most static) and, like year 3's PV, only provides "new" content for a select few characters (the dorm leaders). They also reuse pre-existing illustrations already found in the game that don't seem to be picked for any particular reason (like, there are random Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles groovies in there). This direction, I'm guessing, is less costly and more efficient than making an entirely original animation, which is what was done in previous years. (Not that Disney or Aniplex is hurting for money to fund this, lol) Would I have preferred another PV in the style of year 1's? Yeah, for sure. I want to see other events and their outfits animated! Was what we got this year bad? Not necessarily; I think the production and editing was very technically impressive, but I'm still sad we didn't get anything substantially "new" to chew on (as someone who isn't a fan of most third years or the dorm leaders). Maybe it's just something we perceive as a deficit only because year 1 set the bar so high. It is what it is; whoever was in charge of the anniversary PV was probably doing the best they could with whatever budget they were given 😔 Let's hope that next year's will be a return to form, or that at least the money/effort is being redirected to other bigger projects (maybe the anime?).