#but his messed up/exhaustion hair is kinda cool and I feel like an ass for saying that

[dank-meme-legend]

This is the dumbest edit I’ve ever made and thematically, it doesn’t make any sense either. But it scratches my brain so yeahh 😎

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 13)

To be honest, Uzi didn't entirely understand why she'd had N leave that night.

Maybe she was just overwhelmed with it all, or maybe she was truly broken in some way; addicted to making herself suffer needlessly.

But as she lie in bed, night coming again rapidly, she realized she'd gotten exactly zero sleep, being unable to stop her thoughts from turning back to overheating yet again.

She knew the incident had been her fault, N had warned her about pushing it, her own body had warned her twice that she'd been pushing it, both telling her to stop and she simply didn't, too frustrated and too worried about the future to take even half a second and think.

She'd been lucky that the only person she hurt was herself. What if she'd lost control again? If she'd gone nuts and hurt N and her Dad or anyone else in the bunker until her body had been satiated. If it ever could be.

And yeah, it had hurt like hell. And had scared the shit out of her (and N, for that matter.) But in comparison to all the other things that could happen, it was a better outcome. Even if it was still pretty traumatic.

“Uzi, N's here!” She heard her dad shout loudly, but even then it was highly muffled through the thick steel of the door. She slowly got out of bed, head full of static and heavy to the point that it could have been made from steel as well.

Her hair was a mess, and she hadn't even bothered to put on her beanie or her hoodie, just the loose yellow T-shirt she slept in.

The door opened, Khan was chattering to N, who honestly didn't look much better than she did, his eyelights and visor a little dim, lines under his eyes that made him look incredibly exhausted and much older.

“You look like a wreck.” She said, even though she didn't look nor feel any better, both men turned to look at her, Khan looking worried, N just smiling tiredly.

“Didn't sleep very well…” N replied, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he blinked and looked her up and down.

“Same…” She yawned, doing the same to him.

“You two look like you didn't sleep a wink!” Khan exclaimed, looking between them both, hurrying to the kitchen and pulling out two mugs, N watched him curiously, fighting the urge to pull Uzi into a hug and possibly drag them both back to bed.

“Here.” Khan handed them both a cool, iced mug with a thin darkened liquid in it, N swished the liquid around, causing the ripples to flash some deep golds.

“It's gasoline. Should perk you two up.” Khan explained, looking satisfied with himself.

“Isn't this usually hot dad?” She asked, clinking the ice around in the mug.

“Yes! But I thought with both of your coolant problems… something cold might be better!”

Uzi was mildly surprised he'd even paid that much attention. She'd never outright told him exactly what was going on but it wasn't like she was actively hiding it either. She shrugged, tipping it into her mouth.

It was bitter. Very bitter. And she felt her core stutter before picking up it's pace enough to make her a little nauseous, but the static in her head began to ebb away. She wasn't sure if she was a fan…

N on the other hand seemed to down his immediately, ice and all. And when he pulled it from his mouth he licked his lips, eyes hollow.

“Oh wow! That was really good Mr. Doorman.” He smiled, and Khan smiled back, it was actually kinda weird seeing Khan be as friendly as he was must have been some talk.

“Thank you. It's actually the way Uzi's mother preferred it…” He mentioned idly, looking a little sad for a moment before seemingly shaking it off.

Uzi looked down at her drink again, she… didn't actually remember that. She wasn't a baby with Nori had passed, but she was rather young, and it had been awhile.

She did, eventually, finish the mug, thinking about way she might be able to make it more palatable for herself. Maybe if it was sweeter?

“We should head out soon, Tera gets upset if we're late.” N smiled warmly, as a way to gently guide rather than demand she get her ass into gear and get ready. She couldn't help but smile back.

“I know, little gremlin has our schedule memorized at this point.” She laughed lightly, setting her mug in the sink and making her way to her bedroom, shutting the steel door securely behind her so she could get ready.

“Uhm… Mr. Doorman?” N began after he was sure she'd take a hot minute to get ready. Khan turned to him inquisitivlely, his brow on his eyelights raised.

“Yes N?”

“Is it… uh. Is it possible for me to move in to the bunker? I just… If Uzi ever needs to stay over again, it's probably better if it's not… there.” He was nervous, and also a little bit flustered. He didn’t want Khan to suspect his crush, but he also didn't want to lie.

Khan was silent for a moment, taking great care to study N for a moment, he felt his tail twitching, and his fingers fidget in that nervous habit he had.

“Is this something just for my daughter N?” He asked, suspicion in his voice that made N feel more nervous then it had any right to. He was just asking a question, It wasn't like he was asking Khan for his blessing or anything.

Where did that thought come from?

“I mean, it's for me too. And possibly V? It kinda feels really weird living there now with being here so much. It's… a little uncomfortable.” He admitted.

“Hmmm, there is plenty of space here, I'd have to get them ready though…” Khan trailed off in thought for a moment. Then looked into N eyelights like he was trying to find an answer.

“I don't see why you and… your sister? Can't move in here. And I would feel more comfortable if I knew my daughter wasn't sleeping in… well you know.” N noded, looking equally as uncomfortable, but is mood quickly lightened.

“She's not my sister, but that would be awesome!” He nearly vibrated a hole in the floor, this had gone better then he'd imagined!

“No proble-”

He was interrupted by Uzi's bedroom door snapping open, and Uzi herself coming out a moment later, typical hoodie and beanie although holding a bag in her left hand.

“Ready, let's go?” She asked, walking right past the both of them and leaning on the door. The two men exchanged looks before N waved him off, following his best freind out the door to visit the nursery.

Khan smiled warily to himself, N… wasn't very good at hiding anything was he? And despite his instinctual urge to be against it (his daughter with a murder drone!?) He couldn't exactly find the will to, not when N had been there in the way he'd always seemed to be. And his daughter seemed so happy…

The way to the nursery was silent, not out of any awkward tension but neither drone felt the need to, it was comfortable. Just enjoying existing in the same space, at least until N spoke up.

“You sure you're up for this? You seemed really tired.” His voice was soft, as always. And Uzi felt the butterflies again, surely a few words couldn't trigger them right? She wasn't that down bad for him…

“Y-yeah, I'm fine.” Was all she said, because any more and she'd be stammering like a little schoolgirl. Holy crap she was…

N looked down at her hand swinging loosely beside her, for a moment he imagined what it would be like to hold it. Casually, without trauma involved. Would she let him? Would she slap his hand away?

He didn't realize he was drawing closer until he grazed one of her fingers. He pulled away immediately, blush threatening to make him explode. He really hoped she hadn't noticed.

She very much had noticed. And it made her core leap for a moment, thinking he was going to hold her hand before he abruptly moved away. Causing her face to fall.

Had it been an accident? He did seem to be in thought when he was getting closer. Maybe he was just tired, and didn't realize. It did sting a little… knowing that he didn't want to hold her, like this, when things were normal.

They walked in to the nursery, both looking upset for different reasons but the same reason. Not that either of them knew that.

“I was wondering when you two would stop by. Tera was getting cranky.” Mrs. Rayn waved at them, holding said droneling. Who was currently screaming bloody murder while she tried and failed to calm her down.

“I got it!” Uzi exclaimed, taking the baby from her and holding her tightly, shushing her, setting down the bag in her hand on one of the waiting chairs.

“Hey, we're here. No need to get all angsty on us.” She said to Tera softly, and the wailing receded somewhat, but it wasn't like it made her instantly happy, at least until she saw N as well.

“Awww, it's alright kiddo, sorry we were late.” He hummed softy, he rested a hand on her, large enough to completely cover her if he wasn't careful, they looked at her together, faces sharing a single expression.

Rayn smiled, these two were utterly in love with Tera, but neither seemed to want to entertain the idea of adopting the little droneling. She could guess why, they were both young, and likely didn't want to rush into anything.

And yet watching them both doting on her, she noticed the lingering touches N would leave whenever he and Uzi made contact, a hand on her shoulder that didn't seem to want to leave, his entire face twisted up into a smile that reached his visor. It was like he was magnetized to her, struggling to pull away if she was close enough to him.

Uzi was… not as noticeable, but she would lean into him slightly whenever he was there, a smaller smile but etched on her features like it would stay there. Her voice locked into something far sweeter then normal that seemed to bleed into even when she was speaking to N, like they were both equally precious and special.

They were absolutely totally in love with each other, which anyone with even one eye and half a brain could figure out just by standing in a room with the two of them for any significant amount of time.

And Rayn began to hope that they'd change their mind. Because Tera deserved parents that loved her, and parents who loved each other. Which unfortunately wasn't as common as she'd wished, she'd seen so many come and go through her nursery doors, either to combine thier code or to print a body for already combined code. Many, too many, wanted a baby for the wrong reasons; to keep a failing relationship together, because they felt pressured, or sometimes, because they were forced to.

Rayn watched as Uzi pulled out a roll-toy from her bag, one that was handmade by the look of it, as it was purple with little yellow stars on it, it jingled slightly, but thankfully not loud enough it was annoying.

“I think she likes it Zi.” She heard N point out as Tera rolled with the toy, giggling louder as it jingled around in Uzi's arms. Her smile faded slowly, and then her face looked deliberative.

“Mrs Rayn?” Uzi asked, looking up from the pillbaby, N was still by her side, distracting the little one by making moving pictures on his visor, Rayn was actually kinda impressed, not many drones had that kind of control over what their visor displayed.

“Yes?”

“Why is Tera still here? It's been a few weeks. Shouldn't she have been adopted by now?” She asked, cocking her head to the side.

Ah. That.

“Ah… Tera seems to… have an issue.”

“What kind of issue?” It was N this time, now looking up at her as well, concern on both of their faces like worried parents.

“The nurses in the medical bay are unsure if it's a software or hardware issue but, she has an overheating problem…if it's a hardware issue then it should be a non-issue in her next body.”

“But if it's the soft she'll need oil the rest of her life…” Uzi finished for her, looking down at the pillbaby with worried eyes. Tera had calmed down and was now smiling at the two of them, oblivious to the conversation.

“Correct, it's not something many people want to deal with in a child. I haven't had many prospective parents come take a second look at her.” Rayn said sadly, it was a tragedy really, she was such a happy droneling, and rarely seemed upset (unless her two favorite almost-adults weren't around that is.) Even when she'd gotten too warm due to her issue, she rarely complained.

“W-what happens if you can't find someone to take care of her?” N asked, but before Rayn could answer, Uzi did for her.

“She’ll be raised by the nursery until she's old enough.” She said simply, rocking the droneling slowly, N heard Uzi's vents begin to take in more air, as if she was trying to cool herself off.

“Oh…” Was all that came out of N's mouth, and they both looked down at Tera, who was now babbling at them happily.

They exchanged a worried glance, almost having a silent conversation between them before looking back at the droneling, her eyes intently staring at N.

“Eeeee Ennnn…” Came wobbly and slow out of Tera’s tiny speakers, N felt his core stop beating as he realized;

“Are you trying to say my name…?”

“En mbuh… En!” She squeaked, rolling happily, still in Uzi's arms.

“Uzzzziiii” He squealed, shaking his best freind as he freaked out over Tera’s first word being his name, not paying any attention to the fact it was only a single letter.

“I hear her buddy.” Uzi's smile stretched a mile wide as Tera continued to squeak out his name “En! En! En!” N's tail wagging so fast she was a little concerned he'd loose control of it.

"You're going to make N blow a gasket little one." She booped Tera's visor, making the droneling giggle before looking at her instead.

“Zuh…” Was the next sound out of her mouth, and Uzi's attention was brought back down, that almost sounded like…

“Zi! Zi! Zi!” She squealed, Uzi felt her core break in half as Tera continued on, now alternating between saying her name and N's.

“Oh my robo-god…” She whispered, feeling herself getting choked up, she looked at N again, only to find him with a smile just as big as hers, almost without thinking, she wrapped her hand in his, needing some sort of comfort for the moment.

He didn't pull away, this time and placed one of his hands on her back, both drones melting as Tera continued, although neither quite knowing what to do next…

[onboardsorasora]

Tennis AU! I haven't edited this, so I hope it makes sense lol.

Part 1 | Part 15 | Part 17

Part 16

Daniel’s eyes fluttered open at the feeling of lips on his forehead, he couldn’t stop the soft smile that breached his lips even if he wanted to. Max was smiling down from above him, sun bleached blonde hair mussed from sleep, a few errant locks falling forward. He looked so soft and sweet and Daniel couldn’t help but lean forward for a proper kiss.

It was early, he knew. But Max had warned him that he would have had an earlier start today– it being his home race in Holland. Since he landed literally last night, Daniel was going to sleep in some more and come to the track closer to the afternoon race time.

“Go back to sleep.” Max whispered, his lisp a little more pronounced in the morning.

“Mmm love you.” Daniel mumbled into the sheets, missing but knowing that Max’s eyes crinkled in his smile.

“I love you too.” Then Max was clambering off the bed, Daniel peaked a honey brown eye to watch his boyfriend’s perfect ass and broad back walk across the room and into the adjoining bathroom.

It’s been a whirlwind 24 hours. This time yesterday, he was pacing around his hotel room, stomach in knots at the final. Max was on facetime rolling his baby blues and reminding him that he was going to win– in no uncertain terms. 

Well, after that, he just had to prove him right. And Daniel won. A second Wimbledon trophy for his cabinet and another slam for his stats. 

Stretching a little under the covers; which didn’t at all let in any cold outside air in his fluffy cocoon– Max was literally so perfect. Daniel looked around for his actual trophy. They one he clutched the whole plane ride and only let go once Max was pulling him in closer. 

He hadn’t wanted anything to come between him and the perfect plains of Max’s chest. Did he mention that Max was perfect? All broad shoulders and freckles. Strong strong muscles covered in a softness that meant he gave the most perfect hugs and could hold Daniel down.

Finding his quarry, he reached out of his blanket burrito and grabbed the cool metal. He shivered but still brought it under the sheets. Thankfully it didn’t take too long for the silver to warm up and he happily spooned and snuggled it in the middle of the bed. This was something he did when he had won in ‘18, in his emotional and physical exhaustion he had snuggled with the cup and promptly fell asleep. Blake had taken a picture– because of course he did– and he’d woken up to all sorts of teasing and memes the next day.

Last night he had something quite nicer to snuggle with, but this felt like a tradition at this point.

When Max left the bathroom with a towel around his waist and water dripping from his hair, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Padding to his side table, he grabbed up his phone and took as many photos as he dared. Daniel looked adorable– his mouth open and drooling on his pillow, clutching his trophy.

Max couldn’t blame him. Not when he slept with his first WDC trophy in his bed for three nights because he simply couldn’t believe it.

Sending the cutest picture to Blake, he went about dressing for the day ahead. If all goes to plan, he’ll have his own trophy tonight and then they would probably lay them in the center of the bed like babies. 

Shaking his head to release that thought, Max leaned over and kissed Daniel’s forehead once more, smiling when the tired man snuggled deeper in sleep.

When Daniel woke up at a more reasonable time (to him); his phone was blowing up. Curious, he blearily looked at all of his notifications. There were a few from his family, individually and from their family group chat. There was a tonne from his friends, but the majority were from social media. 

Warily opening instagram, he scrolled through his DMs seeing various reactions to a picture he posted. 

“Kinda delayed I guess?” He muttered. He’d posted a picture from the plane last night, a different version of the (pg) selfie he sent Max. Opening the message from Scotty, he couldn’t say he recognised the photo the other Aussie was reacting to. 

Waking up to a tonne of notifications wasn’t wildly out of the ordinary; Blake posted from Daniel’s verified accounts all the time. From sponsored posts to any sort of teasers from brand deals. He didn’t recall anything on the schedule but clicked the picture anyway.

His own sleepy face clutching his trophy like a baby stared back at him. The familiar hotel room was what told him that this was a recent picture and not a throwback to 2018.

“What the fuck?” Going back to his messages the two at the top of the pile offered some form of explanation.

Maxy Baby 🥵 ‘I had no clue he would post it. Sorry I thought you were so cute.’

Blakearooni ‘Revenge accomplished’

Chuckling in spite of himself, Daniel typed back a reply to both–ensuring to call Blake an asshole and to placate Max’s guilt– and threw his phone on the bed. He had to think of the perfect retaliation.

[lady-z-writes]

When you get a chance and if it’s something your down for (NO RUSH) could I possibly bother you for yet another fantastic piece with Heis and a fem reader? I can’t get the idea out of my brain of a hot evening (cause that factory must be sweltering) between the two, that kinda passionate, desire on high, needy and just downright sweaty kind of smut. All the bonus points if the aftermath is fluffy. Thank you!

Sure thing! Thank you for this. Smut below the cut:

Heisenberg is dripping with sweat when he comes back up to the living quarters. You've been wrapped in a towel for twenty minutes, waiting for him to join you for a shower and once you see him you know it's in his best interest.

Tonight is particularly hot - overwhelmingly so. And it doesn't help that you spent half the day watching Heisenberg work and sweat. He'd been shirtless as much as he could today and there were plenty of times you distracted him by stripping down to your skirt and a bra.

To say you two have been pawing at each other all day would be an understatement.

Only it was too hot to actually fuck in the factory, which was a damn shame.

Hence why you were eagerly awaiting his arrival back to the living quarters.

The shower running cold just how he likes it after a day like today, you watch him undress then stride right by you and into the shower, his finger grazing your thigh as he passes.

The grime washing off him is instant once the water hits him. He turns to watch you slip the towel from your body, step in with him. You want him to wash off before anything gets really heated, but he's kissing you and pressing you to the wall...how can you say no to him?

The icy water feels refreshing, wakes you up. It's a shock against the heat of his body.

Heisenberg enters you without much prep - there was no need. Today had been all the teasing you could want and somehow this shower sex isn't enough. The cold water is surely a distraction.

"Mmmm wanna cum?" he asks against your shoulder.

"You know that answer."

"Here?" he grunts as he thrusts into you. You shake your head. "Mmm fine then. Clean up," he pulls away, starts washing up; leaves you wanting and empty.

Your wet hair keeps you cool for a while after your shower is done and Heisenberg surely loves your wet shirt with your nipples poking through.

The couch is so sweaty to sit on and feign interest in a book. Heisenberg wants to write down today's notes and, honestly, you're so desperate for him. Normally, you'd be closing the distance between you two - physical touch - but tonight is just so Goddamn hot you can't bring yourself to do it.

So you're fingering yourself on the couch, touching yourself to the look of him so damn focused over that stupid journal.

The moan you accidentally let out alerts him and his eyes quickly trail toward you.

"Ohhh, you fucking tease," he drones. "Such a sight."

And he watches you, sets his gaze on your parted legs, the practiced movements of your fingers. You watch him fidget in the seat, pants tented, jaw clenching and unclenching as he debates if he wants to finish his notetaking.

A surge of pleasure shoots through you as you rub your clit. It's his breaking point. Heisenberg is shoving you down on the sweaty couch, hovering over you, removing your fingers so he can replace them with his mouth.

He gets you to cum two times before he's even unzipping his pants.

You're a sweaty, panting mess beneath him when he finally slides himself inside of you.

You swollen walls greedily take him in and you hear the shaking breath he releases on the first thrust. Heisenberg is all hands, despite the heat. Sloppy kissing, bumping noses, clashing teeth - it's needy and good. You can tell he needs to hold himself back because his pace changes before he switches up positions as way of distraction from blowing his load.

"Need you to cum on my cock," he huffs out, letting you top because he knows you love the added pressure, the control. "Now, doll."

He counts you down because you love the urgency, love knowing that he may punish you if you don't cum when he gets to 'one'. You love your little games.

By the time you're gasping his name, he's gripping your hips and rutting up into you at such a pace you can't catch your breath. He fills you and it's been so long coming, you sigh with relief.

You feel like you're on fire when you finally lay your body against his. The gasps that fill the room almost overpower the knowledge of the heat.

"Another shower is in order," you finally moan out, peeling yourself off him, your skin stuck together.

"I've been distracted from my notetaking."

"Wonder who would do such a thing."

"And you better not pull any of that self-pleasure again. I want to be in control of your pleasure tonight."

"So I'm guessing I'm not allowed to take a solo shower."

"You'd be guessing correct."

You groan, but only because it humors him.

You're both all hands again while he finishes up his notes. It's scorching inside but you still sit on his lap to be close to him, to run your nails along his skin, grind your body against him, let him trail kisses along the soft spot on your neck.

He's peeling your panties off you once his notes are finished and you're so eager to feel him again, you both forget about your shower just long enough to let him fuck you over the desk.

Your hands grip at his fingers planted beside your head on the desk. The next orgasm leaves you gasping and choking on stale air, clawing at his forearms, rutting back against him in a desperate plea to be fucked harder.

Of course, he obliges. Heisenberg aims to please.

You beg to face him after a while, cry out that you want to kiss him, touch him. He finally agrees to plop your ass on the desk, fuck you atop the metal thing (which is hot against your ass, but makes for some added pleasure you didn't know you'd like.)

You're all open-mouthed kisses, deep moans, wandering hands. It's passionate and desperate; needy in the best way. He makes you feel wanted. Your desire for him is always surprising to him, but he's learning.

As you come down from another orgasm, Heisenberg watches a bead of sweat trail between your breasts, down to your navel. He's, once again, distracting himself so he can last a little longer, maybe get one more orgasm out of you.

But this heat is making you both sleepy and he hums when you rest your head against his chest.

"Mmm I'm gonna fill you," he pants, "and then get you under some cool water, scrub you down...eat you out one last time before bed." He hears you moan. "Would you like that?"

You nod against his chest, moan out as he picks up the pace. Your hands wander all over his body and he feels so wanted, so attractive it makes him tingle.

"Mmm, need you, Heisenberg," you gasp out and that does it - it's enough to make him cum.

After the comedown, he carries you to the shower, sets you down, starts the faucet.

Bathing you is tender and takes his mind away from the humidity in the factory. You're beautiful, he thinks. Too beautiful to be with him, for sure.

Leaning against his chest, you're an exhausted mess. The soap is gentle against your skin as he cleans you up. He thinks you're asleep when he's done. It takes everything in you to stay awake so you decide to return the favor and clean him off.

"Okay, love," he hums against your ear. "That's enough. Time to rinse off. Then bed, you got me?"

He's getting on his knees in front of you as the water rinses him off. You nod, gripping at his shoulder as he easily hoists you against the wall, tucks your legs over his shoulders as he once again settles between your thighs.

That talented tongue of his works you into oblivion as he makes good with his promise. You're pretty sure you're in heaven by the time he's done with you. Shaky knees unable to support you, he steadies you enough to dry off and then carries you to the bed.

You know the drill: he'll go read until he's tired and you'll fall asleep alone. But not tonight. Tonight you're begging him to stay.

Tonight, he obliges.

"G'night, Heisy."

"G'night, kitten."

[quillquiver]

another chapter of this deancas wedding/honeymoon!fic. thank you @we-all-deserve-to-be-saved for the prompt! 

Castiel is not a morning person.

He likes lying in bed until he’s sore with it, stretching out on the memory foam like a king languishing among his pillows. He likes rolling over onto on a cool patch of sheet, and cuddling into the covers, and hooking his toes over the end of the mattress. Castiel likes holding Dean. Being held by him; tucked up against his chest or with a palm half-sunk into his boxer-briefs. Pressing kisses to neck and shoulders and the line of his hair.

Castiel likes the liminal space he occupies in the moments between sleep and wakefulness, where everything glows. It’s warm and wonderful and he draws it out for as long as possible, the minutes dragging along by way of tender touches. It reminds him of the peaceful parts of angelhood.

So, Castiel is not a morning person.

…But he can become one, for Dean.

Dean likes romantic gestures; not all of them—he isn’t the type of man who likes receiving flowers or chocolates or candlelit dinners. But picking up his favourite beer when Cas notices they’re running low, or staying up late to watch a movie despite being exhausted—kissing him, washing his hair, holding his hand, sitting with him while he works on the Impala… wearing women’s lingerie: these are all things Dean appreciates. Small things. Quiet things.

Cas knows that this is a gamble.

The alarm on his phone barely has the opportunity to buzz before he’s turning it off, carefully sliding out from between the covers. It’s dim, and Cas allows himself a moment to run his hand through the mess of his hair and dig his toes into the soft carpet. A breeze is coming off the water.

God, he hates early mornings.

“Where you goin’?”

Dean’s voice is slurred and muffled. He blindly reaches out and Cas meets him halfway, tempted into cuddling for just a moment longer. “Go back to sleep, Dean,” he murmurs, gently brushing over the pillow lines on his cheek.

“Mmm, w’sss hap’nin?”

“Bathroom,” Cas supplies, depositing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Dean’s reciprocation lags with exhaustion.

Dean frowns. Struggles to open his eyes. “Y’okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cas says. “Go back to sleep.”

“’Kay,” Dean mumbles. “C’m back.”

Cas melts like fallen ice cream on hot concrete.

He carefully extracts himself from their bed, padding into the other room and closing the bedroom door. The sun is beginning to paint the first impressions of light on the horizon; the water is calm—it’s going to be a beautiful day.

Castiel calls for room service.

He orders pancakes and waffles and eggs and sausages, lox bagels, a bowl of fresh fruit, mimosas. An espresso and a latte because Dean would never ask for it himself. “And would you mind putting a rush on this?” he murmurs into the receiver. “I know it’s early, but we’re newlyweds and I’m trying to surprise my husband.”

Cas has learned that the newlywed excuse goes a long way anywhere, but works especially well when paying outrageous amounts of money in a fancy hotel. He expects they’ll also leave the champagne bottle.

Despite the fact that Cas is pretty sure it’s considered impolite to do so, he moves the small table and chairs from the balcony and makes a nest on the marble floor out of spare blankets and colourful pillows from the couch. He tries to mitigate the potential mess by laying down some of their many extra towels. Room service knocks, Cas pulls on a robe, and then the smell of coffee and food starts rousing Dean from bed. Cas pushes the food cart—complete with opened champagne bottle—to the door of the balcony before entering the bedroom.

Dean has kicked off all the covers and is sleeping on his stomach.

There is no moment of thinking about what he wants to do—what he’s allowed; Cas moves without conscious thought, peppering kisses from Dean’s ass all the way to the nape of his neck and then lavishing his attention on his particularly freckled shoulders. “Mmm… smells good.”

“Breakfast,” Cas says.

“S’early.”

“I want to take you on a date.”

Dean’s eyes flutter open. “Now?” he asks, caught between sleep and incredulity.

Cas leans over and presses a kiss to his mouth. “Mm.”

“Sweetheart…” He whines. Cas feels himself start to smile. Dean doesn’t use pet names often, and more recently he’s taken to doing so while complaining; as if the verbal confirmation of his affection will bend Cas to his will. It was laughable until it became endearing—because Cas is sweet on him, and there is no one else Dean feels comfortable whining to.

“Your life is one hardship after another,” he agrees solemnly. Cas slides back down Dean’s body and nips his left asscheck. “Come on. Up.”

“What, we’re not even gonna—”

“After breakfast, Dean. Just come. Please.”

Dean rolls his eyes and grumbles about a different kind of coming. “Man, s’not even light out yet.” As Cas moves to get Dean his robe, he’s caught around the waist and pulled between bowed legs. “C’mon,” Dean needles, nuzzling at him until the robe parts. “A little nookie, a couple more hours of sleep… we can go on a date later.”

“Or we can go on a date now.”

Dean pulls away and looks up at Cas, narrowing his eyes. Cas smiles down at him beatifically, running a hand through his hair and tracing the shell of his in the way he knows turns him to putty.

“…You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yes.”

Dean continues to grumble to himself as he slides out of bed and towards his duffle, frowning when Cas catches his hand. “No need to get dressed.”

“But you said—”

Cas holds out his robe. “Follow me.”

Dean slips the thing on as they pad into the main room, his eyes immediately drawn to the food and coffee. He gives a low whistle. “Damn, Cas. We expecting company?”

And suddenly, the entire thing seems incredibly stupid. Cas dragged them both from the warmth and comfort of their marriage bed on their honeymoon to look at the sun rising, a thing that happens and has happened every single day since the Earth started turning. He did this knowing that neither of them get to sleep like this, or be alone like this, or touch like this—this much and this openly. He doesn’t even know if Dean likes sunrises; if this is one of those things that’s romantic in the wrong way.

“I know you like breakfast,” he says, instead of dragging Dean back to bed.

Dean eyes the set-up outside, turn around and… blushes. Is blushing, down his chest and all the way to the tips of his ears. “So this is, uh—you got up and did all this?”

Cas feels colour rise to his own cheeks. “I didn’t cook,” he says. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Dean echoes. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “So, uh, take me on a date, stud.” He looks nervous, Cas thinks, which is ridiculous and relatable all at once. Outside, the rising sun paints swathes of pink and orange across the horizon.

“…Right,” Cas says. “Yes. I will… do that.” He gestures to the balcony. “Please sit.”

They get settled with coffee, for the first time maintaining a respectful distance between them. It’s oddly hurtful, and the longer they remain apart the more awkward Cas feels. He’s practically shaking out of his own skin when he suggests they go back inside. “You’re tired,” he says. “We should just go back to sleep.”

“Wait, why?” Dean frowns. He has foam on his upper lip. Cas wants to kiss it away.

“You’re not having fun,” he continues. “And this was silly, anyway. We should just—”

“Who says I’m not having fun?”

“Dean—”

“C’mon, man, you gotta—” Dean cuts himself off. Shakes his head. “I’m not cut out for this stuff: dates, romance… you gotta know that by now. And I haven’t been with anyone long enough to, y’know, even get to the part where we’re mushy and shit. But… it’s not because I don’t want to. I mean, flowers and chocolate? Not my thing, but you know me, Cas. A-And we’re in love, right?”

Cas swallows thickly. He nods. “I’m in love with you.”

Dean’s huff of laughter is steeped in nerves. “Well, good,” he says. “’Cause I’m kinda crazy about you, too. So—so, why shouldn’t we have a sunrise picnic on the balcony at the fuckin’ Ritz?”

“We should, if you’re enjoying myself.”

“Hell yeah, I’m enjoying myself. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Drink your damn coffee.”

Cas stares at him for a moment before scooting closer. He wraps an arm around Dean and tugs, relaxing when over six feet of freckled hunter is suddenly plastered to his side. “Okay,” Cas breathes. “Good. This is good. I love you.”

“I love you, too, you loser.”

They come together more softly than usual, tentative in a way they haven’t been in a long time as they kiss. Eventually, Dean gets pulled onto Cas’s lap and shrugs out of the top of half of his robe. “Gonna need to work up an appetite to finish all that food,” he murmurs. He ducks down to suck and bite at the spot on Cas’s neck that makes him weak in the knees.

Cas snorts. “Very subtle.”

“So, uh…” Dean bounces his eyebrows like a lecherous old man.

Cas’s stomach growls. “Can we postpone the exhibitionism until after we eat?”

“There’s no one around!”

He’s smiley when Cas kisses him.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Dean opens his mouth and Cas rolls his eyes. “Besides me.”

“That’s mighty presumptuous of you, Castiel.”

Cas narrows his eyes. “I know you.”

“Yeah.”

It comes out much breathier than probably intended, and Cas can’t be expected not to kiss him. When they drift apart and Dean says, “Little bit of everything?” Cas gets up to make him a plate.

“Man,” Dean sighs, stretching out on the pillows. “This honeymoon thing is awesome.”

Cas hands him a plate piled high with bacon and eggs and pancakes and grins.

It really, truly is.

[hotwings0203]

Hello!!! Soooo I came up with a few headcanons for Muslim Bakugou, JajkjGhoA I can't wait to read your response! 😫🤲💖

Okay! So he is definitely the good husband who does house chores! He actually helps around the house, knows how to do all the chores, and all the other girls are so jealous of you lolll

He will make you the best food! He knows all your favourite dishes, and will spoil you with his cooking! Also he will make your favourite desserts as a form of apology for when he pisses you off or makes you upset

Will feed you when he's trying out new dishes, and when you're getting married during the mehndi, when you feed him laddu or gulab jamun, he will blush so hard but also holds your wrist to "guide" you, as everyone giggles and teases you two for being so flustered and blushy around each other

If you make his favorite dishes?? Like okay imagine you make his fav dish (after asking the bakusquad cuz he's hard to approach lol) and subtly give it to him or maybe get Kirishima to give it to him as you leave the mosque or arrive at some community party or something, homeboi will blush so hard and will not let anyone have even the tiniest bite of your cooking

As a thanks he will buy you churiyan! He will see you admiring them and will come up and awkwardly but gruffly ask you if you like that certain churiyan set (that is like a pretty red and gold) and when you say yes, he will proceed to buy it for you, and omg if the bakusquad see this, Denki and Sero will definitely tease him and be like you should put them on her! While you're like omg! Wait, the adults will see! And he just surprises everyone as he gently grabs your hand and puts them on you and just admires how soft your hands are, and how they fit in his hand, and thinks about how pretty they would look with a wedding ring on them, and you are just standing there blushing so hard, and when he sees you wearing those churiyan at other events he feels so proud and possessive and happy

Weak for your smile and laugh, and very protective of you, will blow someone's head off for making you upset or for disrespecting you. Your parents love him so much, will immediately say yes to the rishta! Also, his parents love you so much, you and Masaru are the calm to Bakugou and Mitsuki raging tempers lmfaoo

You're the only one who gets to see his soft side and soft while without being threatened with death loll lucky youuu~ Also! Everyone will tease him sooooo much for being soft for you, the girls and aunties always giggle when they see how soft he is with you when you guys are out in public and he won't deny it either loll

In public he's kinda reserved with pda, but likes it when you hold his hand or loosely hook your arm around his muscled arms. He will however, put an arm on your lower back to steer you away from an uncomfortable situation or will step in front of you to protect you

In private he will be cuddly, loves wrapping his arms around you, forhead kisses too! You will be a blushing, flustered mess as he leans down by your ear and teases you about it in his low gruff voice. Also just loves the feel of your soft body against his

Also! Omg say its eid or something, and you're getting your mehndi done, the bakusquad will push him to sit with you and help you since you're mehndi is still wet. He will gruffly compliment your mehndi design, will get you food and feed it to you, will softly but hesitantly brush your hair away from your face when he sees that its bugging you, and this will make your both blush, and omg he will have the softest look in this eyes at that moment, and his hand will linger by your pretty earnings, and will just gaze at your lips with a lustful gaze as you softly whisper thank you

When the mehndi dries, and Denki makes a comment about how dark and rich the color is and is like damn Bakugou you really have it bad for y/n huh? Both of you will be so flustered and while Bakugou chases Denki while yelling that hes gonna blow his head off, you just stand there will Mina and Ochako and giggle at his antics, and the girls will tease you about you have gotten Bakugou wrapped around your fingers and that you shouldn't be surprised when his parents approach your parents with a rishta

AunwQniwa anyways Muslim Bakugou will love you so much and cherish you and just RIP to your heart 😫😭💖

YO YES MY GAWD LETS ASSESS THIS MFKIN FOOD YOU JUST GAVE US

okay so 100% YES!! Y’all seen mitsuki? She ain’t havin none of that “I’m the only son so treat me like a king” bs. No no, our girlboss femdom Mistski Auntie has her two boys cookin and cleanin every weekend and massaging her feet, as she SHOULD!

These habits carry on to when he gets married also. His wife could be doing the dishes one day right after their wedding and he would walk by, peeking over her shoulder at her hand-to-sponge technique.

“You’re doing it wrong dumbass. Use the hard side to scrub the crumbs off and then the soft side to polish it.” He snatches the plate from your hands and starts vigorously rubbing it the way you couldn’t. You stare at him, flabbergasted that a mom in the desi community has actually succeeded in raising her son right.

“‘The fuck are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” you quickly say, stepping aside to let him work his magic. He merely grunts and picks up the next bowl.

In a moment of bravado, you lean over to kiss his cheeks. He stops scrubbing and just stares at the sponge in his hands, his face slowly going red as a beet.

When you two fight, you already know he’s gonna be yelling at the top of his lungs and stomping around the house, the explosions from his hands searing the furniture around you.

It’s enough to set you off and storm out of the house too. You need a fucking break, he can be so much to handle sometimes.

It’s around late evening that you come back in the garage from wherever you decide to cool off from. The house is silent and dark from the outside so you assume he fell asleep with the usual scowl on his face.

You sigh and drop your keys and purse on the counter, exhausted from the day’s drama. Form the corner of your eye you see a small candle on the kitchen table alight, and you walk over to put it out.

Except right in front of the candle, there’s a small plate of mithai(sweets) that has a note attached to it.

“Sorry for being an ass” is written in his chicken scratch writing. You smile and shake your head, taking a bite from the surprisingly well-made gulaab jamun.

It’s a good thing Katsuki hid Sato’s recipe in one of the cabinets before you came home.

And just like you said, the man is WHIPPED for your cooking. He’s always pulling you to the kitchen and lightly shoving you around the stove, gruffly telling you to add more spices that he knows you can recreate to a T.

Whenever the Bakusquad comes over to hang out, you try to cook the same way you know Katsuki likes (extra spicy), but for some reason on those exact days you can’t seem to find any of your special ingredients…

At other times maybe before your marriage, when he first began falling in love with you he would see you admiring a vendor’s churiyaan and earrings.

He would quietly walk up behind you maybe a foot or two away, observing how you fit the bangles on your wrist.

“I like the red ones on you,” he says lowly, making sure to dwindle down his usual aggressive tone.

You turn and gently smile at him. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because red is what brides wear.”

Your heart beats fast as he takes your wrist, oh so delicate compared to his callous large hands.

“And the silver makes me think of the ring I’ll have on you in no time soon.”

Bakugo closes his eyes in front of you and inhales, letting you know that everything about you draws him closer.

When you guys walk around a college campus or even in town, he’s always looking left and right shiftily, convinced that every man within a mile of you is trying to steal you away. He’ll stand in front of you when a guy asks you where a certain building is, he’ll glare at his friends when they get too rowdy and rough with you, but he still gets nervous for PDA. He knows how fast word travels around in desi communities so he doesn’t want to do anything in public, but fuck when he gets home he’s pinning you on the bed and resting his entire weight on you.

At eid as stated above^^ he’ll see you in your lengha or kurti and get INSANELY nervous and flustered at your beauty. The way you sit poised and laughing with Mina and ochako while your mehndi is being done makes his palms sweat and his armpits prickly. He has to wipe them on his kameez almost three times before taking one last look at you and walking away.

Well, at least he tries to walk away. He’s promptly sought out and grabbed by his three cronies, who drag him by nail and tooth towards you. No amount of swearing and growling threats to ‘blow their ass up so bad people will piecing them back together for weeks” stops them from bringing him closer to you.

“Yeah yeah, you said that already,” Denki smirks and playfully zaps his ass so that he helps and lurches forwards towards you.

The commotion makes the girls look up and wave excitedly when they spot the rowdy men.

You bite your lip and give Bakugo a meek little grin, which makes steam curl from his ears.

“Heyyy ladiesss, got room for one more?” Sero drawls and throws an arm over the simmering grenade of a man.

“Hmm,” Mina mockingly contemplates for a minute before she slowly starts to get up, uraraka following pursuit. “Not at the moment, but maybe we could make some room…” she tackles Bakugo and Kirishima also kicks the back of his knees so that he folds cleanly into the chair next to you.

You look bewildered at everybody while they snicker at Bakugo’s vermillion face.

He glared at them and after an oblivious moment or two they get the hint and wink before backing off.

“So, uh, how long have you been getting your hand done for?”

You grin at his inexperience with these kinds of things, but still indulge him.

“About 25 minutes or so.”

“25 min-“ his eyes grow wide and the whole hall turns to him as he screams at your poor designer for making you ‘sit on her cute ass for such a goddamn long time. And why the hell doesn’t she have food yet??’

At least he thought you were cute

💓💓

[kirislut]

Can I request Bakugou x reader where he's a pro hero and the reader is a civilian friend who he likes. They told him where their hidden key is if he ever needed to crash and their place was the closer option. One day he takes that offer, going in, using their shower and kitchen. They almost didn't noticed when they returned home and crashed on the couch. And then he starts doing it frequently because he likes being there and resting with them? Also happens to prevent someone breaking in too?

a/n: i always love like prohero writings, because it makes me happy seeing that class 1a made it shxksisn sorry me being soft but here ya go! also bakugou is more mature here, idk i imagine prohero bakugou more calm and cocky, still angry just able to handle it more. 

warnings: bakugou(swearing), break in

you never thought you would become friends with a pro hero, especially one that you highly admired. admired for his hard work and because he was good looking.

it all started unexpectedly, you were driving home after a long day of running errands. you looked away for a second to change the song when you heard a loud shout, causing you to step on the brakes. yet a body still collided with the front of the car, then fell onto the ground. ‘did i just run someone over? oh my god.’

you nearly busted your car door wide open to go and help whoever you had just hit, but you froze when you saw bags of spilled money on the road. “woah, trying to steal all my credit? you managed to stop them before me.”

spinning around your eyes landed on the pro hero ground zero. the. pro. hero. ground. zero. now you weren’t sure what to be shocked about, the fact you hit some apparent villain or the fact that ground zero was talking to you. yea your inner fan girl won over.

“holy shit you’re ground zero.” the hero let out a small chuckle, a cocky attitude immediately taking him over because he could tell you were at least impressed. maybe even a fan? he didn’t know that his fans could be so cute. that shocked look you wore in your face because he was talking to you? that inflated his ego, as if it couldn’t grow any bigger.

“yes i am, good job taking down that villain by the way. how did you see us?” he questioned as he moved past you, grabbing the villain by the back of the shirt and lifting them up and over his shoulder.

hearing his question made you let out a little chuckle of sheepishness. “well i actually didn’t see them coming, it was an accident....” a wave of embarrassment washed over you as the pro hero tilted his head and cocked his eyebrow at you.

“you hit them on accident?”

“basically...”

the blonde stared at you before letting out a snort, “jesus maybe you should be taken in instead.” you let out a breath of relief, worried for a moment but glad he was just joking.

after that you actually had to be questioned and such by the police, for the report, so you were able to spend a little more time with the pro hero. it was nice, playful banter with maybe. just maybe some flirting?

as you were leaving the hero followed you to your car, ya know just make sure you got there safe of course. not because he thought you were kinda cute of whatever.

“congrats, you can be a sidekick ya know.” you just laughed, shaking your head. “no the hero life isn’t for me sadly. but if i ever change my mind i’ll let you know.” you opened up your car door and slide into your drivers seat.

“well too bad, just try not to hit anyone else on your way home.” he smirked softly, but his expression changed as he remembered something. he fished for something in his pockets as you shut your car door and rolled the window down.

“jesus fuck where did i put it.” as he continued to search you buckled up and waited for whatever the hero was going to give you. you buckled up as you waited for him to get whatever he was looking for.

“THERE IT IS!” he shouted, letting out of a huff of anger since it was buried in his pocket. in between his fingers he held out a black business card towards you. “it’s my number, let me know if you ever crash into someone. or if there’s a villain. i’ll make sure to save the day as usual.” he wore his signature grin as you grabbed the card, smiling and internally freaking out. thank you’s and goodbyes were said towards each other then you drove off home.

you thought you wouldn’t see the pro hero again any time soon since it was a coincidence and all, also because his agency isn’t close to where you reside. but not even a week later you see him patrolling not to far from your apartment during the night.

as you approached your apartment building, the pro hero was as well. you were currently debating if you should say something, but would he even remember you? he probably dealt with a lot of fans everyday. he was a famous hero after all. but as you were thinking and just blatantly staring at the spiky blonde, he recognized you from afar. “hey it’s the bad driver.”

bakugou quickened his pace slightly to approach you, it’s not like he wanted to talk to you or something. oh no he was just going to check up on a civilian walking alone in the middle of the night of course.

seeing him come straight towards you made you flush in embarrassment, did he realize you were staring at him? but you did your best to act cool when he stopped in front of you. “what are you doing out here, aren’t you far away from your agency?”

the pro hero huffed when you beat him to asking the ‘what are you doing here’ question. “i was about to ask you what you’re doing walking around by yourself this late.”

“oh i was just coming back from a night out with friends. and it was close enough to walk.” you explained simply as the hero nodded in response. “i’m guessing you also didn’t want to run anyone over again?”

you wrinkled your nose at his teasing, making the hero chuckle softly at your little pout. “it was an accident! and they were a villain. but you still didn’t answer my question.”

“to simplify my agency is going to start covering this area as well. so were in the process of establishing another head quarters and now i’ll be patrolling around this area more often.”

hearing his explanation honestly filled you with a childish glee, this meant you could run into hero more. just hopefully not with your car. but maybe you could be able to talk to him more, just maybe.

luckily your maybes came true, you were able to see ground zero more often and mostly during the night. the two of you would share quick conversations, just asking about how the other was and of course the usual teasing of you hitting that villain. he would never let it down.

but one night you saw that he was quite dirty and looked exhausted. you started to insist that he just rest in your apartment but of course he refused. he didn’t want to be a bother besides, he was fine. though even if he refused you told him about the spare you had taped under you door mat. not under your door mat because that was too obvious, besides no one actually checks the back of a door mat anyways.

you knew it would take a while for bakugou, he didn’t want you to call him ground zero anymore since you guys were friends now, to accept your offer. so you in the back of your mind you always remembered that he could just show up one day. but one day you were particularly exhausted, work was nothing but terrible.

so when you walked through your apartment you collapsed onto your couch, not having enough energy to make it to your bed. “oi (y/n) if you’re gonna sleep at least go to your bed.”

suddenly hearing bakugou’s voice scared you enough to fall off the couch from trying to sit up too quickly. hearing the thud, bakugou peeked out from the kitchen to see you had fallen on the floor. he didn’t hesitate to start laughing his ass off from you falling.

you sat up straight, glaring at the male. you scrambled up to your feet, flushing in embarrassment. “DON’T SCARE ME LIKE THAT!” you shouted, causing the hero to soften his laughter. “right sorry, but that was fucking hilarious.” he was still trying to calm down, but you were still upset. though seeing him laugh was pretty cute, but no you had to be upset.

actually as you watched him, you could tell that his hair was slightly damp, he had taken a shower it seemed. he was also just wearing his tank top and pants from his hero costume, but did his biceps always look that big? when did they get so defined.

“hey idiot, stop staring and lets eat. i made some food.” you hadn’t noticed he stopped laughing, but you snapped out of your dreamy state and cocked your head to the side. “food?”

he hummed in response as he turned back to go into the kitchen, coming out with two plates of pasta he made. “i figured you’d be hungry, cause i fucking am.” you were about to snatch the plate away from him so you could just eat on the couch, but he moved away before you could snatch it. “you’re eating at the table, not on the couch. you might make a mess.”

your face temporarily twisted into a scowl, you just wanted to eat. but you knew he was right, so you just followed him to your little dinning table. the both of you shared a very pleasant dinner, the food was nothing less of perfection and the chatter was comfortable.

those nights were definitely what you looked forward too now, it wasn’t every day but at least a few days a week. you would come home, he would freshen up and make food, the two of you would eat or watch a movie, then he would crash on the couch. his visiting was causing your feelings or admiration turn into a rather huge crush.

it wasn’t any better for the pro hero, if anything it might’ve been worse. he knew he could just go home instead of crashing at your place, but it was closer. at least that’s what he was telling himself. it’s not like he looked forward to seeing you and hearing you praise him for his hero work or his cooking. it’s not like he would peek into your room to see your sleeping form just before he left your apartment. no he wouldn’t do that, he was just making sure you were alright. it was his duty as a hero after all, to make sure you were safe no matter what.

tonight was a little different from usual, bakugou called you saying that he was off on a mission so you didn’t need to wait up for him. it wasn’t the first time this happened but you still felt a little disappointed that you weren’t able to see him. so when you heard some footsteps, you were quick to sit up in bed.

you waited for a moment since the footsteps had stopped, it was then a uneasy feeling washed over you. bakugou would always shower first no matter what, even if you were home first he wouldn’t go up to you until he showered. because he didn’t want you smelling his dirt and grime, so why was there footsteps near your bedroom door and not your bathroom.

quietly, you rushed over to your bed again and fished around the blankets to grab your phone. once you had it you immediately called bakugou’s phone, hearing the dialing tone and anticipating footsteps didn’t help calm your nerves.

“hello?”

“bakugou someone is here, i can hear footsteps.”

“what? wait (y/n) i’m almost there just hide!”

you nodded, feeling slightly less worried since you knew bakugou would be here soon. but when you saw your bedroom doorknob slowly start to turn, that slight relief you felt vanished in an instant.

anxiety was gnawing away at you as you sat on your bed, burning holes into the door with your intent stare. the doorknob stopped turning, but it only worsened as the door started to slowly swing open. you could make out an arm through the sliver the opening, what was going to happen when they saw you sitting there. what if they had a weapon, you were going to be taken hostage?

“DIEEEE!!” a loud crash erupted further down your apartment then then led to a series of explosions and lots of yelling. you sat there stunned, previous anxiety was replaced with confusion. but as you pieced two and two together you scrambled off from your bed and swung open your bedroom door.

bakugou was outside your bedroom door, pinning down a person dressed in all black who was probably knocked out. as you took in the scene you had never seen the hero so furious before, he was clenching his jaw so tightly you were worried his teeth would break. “bakugou—“

his head quickly twisted to look over at you, his look of anger dissipating and being overtaken by worry. he got off of the poor person and rushed to you. he grabbed your shoulders and immediately started to look around you, “are you okay? did you get hurt?”

watching him frantically look you over made you smile slightly, mostly just relieved that he was here. you brushed his hands off of your shoulder and moved forward, hugging him tightly. you hid your face in his chest as he stood there, taken aback that you were hugging him so suddenly.

“i’m fine bakugou, thank you for saving me.”

the blonde let out a sigh of relief, letting his arms wrap around your waist as he held you close. “you dumbass, you left the door unlocked. what if i was out on some mission and i couldn’t save you?”

hearing his theory, you just shook your head in response. you pulled from the hug just slightly so you could look at him. a smug grin spread across your face as he returned your gaze, “well i know you’ll always save me. no matter what.”

seeing your smug expression and confident words about him, made him all to happy. so in the heat of the moment he leaned down and closed the space between you. pressing his lips against yours in a deep kiss. your eyes widened slightly, but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back.

you only pulled apart until your lungs were practically begging for air, so little pants escaped your slightly swollen lips as you looked up at the blushing hero. suddenly you remembered your situation, “shouldn’t you get them out of here?” you asked, tearing your eyes from bakugou to give the passed out person on your floor a glance.

he tsked at you and rolled his eyes, grabbing your chin so that you were staring at him again. “they can fucking wait, right now. i need to take care of you first.”

oh it was a long night, mostly filled with kisses, but also because you had to accompany your now boyfriend to turn in the fool who tried to break into your apartment. but now you never had to be scared again, because you knew that your hero would save you. he would always save you no matter what.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 2]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

Collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“this chick is crazy...and I kinda dig it“

It’s been four days since the incident and he’s all but forgotten about it, removed it from his memory entirely as if girls hide from police in his car on a regular basis. 

Today is colder than usual, and his body has been quick to respond to the change, aching around the joints. Some days it’s impossible to move, feeling his clothes and sandpaper and housing spikes as joints. Thankfully, today isn’t that bad, the pain is rather manageable. Which checks out well for him, considering he has to do some cleaning around his apartment. His skin itched at the sight of the mess his living space has become over the last few weeks he hasn’t been bothered to pick up the strewn about items or wash the dishes in the sink. 

Standing in his living room, he turns in a circle, taking in the disaster that is surrounding him. His chest tightens, throat closing up due to the overwhelmingness of the work he has ahead of him while all he wants to do is hide in his room, under the blankets of his bed that is for sure not willing to offer him much comfort at the moment, seeing as how it too is a mess. 

Forget about that! He isn’t sure if his mind is telling him to forget the task he has at hand or the comfort he has in mind. Either way, he knows what the right thing to do is. It may give him anxiety, but it has to be done. 

He clenches his jaw and closes his eyes, taking deep measured breaths and exhaling slowly just like his doctor had instructed him to do, in hopes to ease the tension around his lungs. 

Calming down a bit, he finally decides to get on with it, starting with the smallest space he has to clean, hoping accomplishing a small victory would fuel his ambition to move onto the actual rooms with a lesser struggle. So, pulling on his favorite hoodie and a beanie over his black curls, he slips out of the front door and down the stairs of his apartment complex with a trash bag in hand. He may hate cleaning, but he hates messes more, therefore it’s an easy call to make. Easy when putting the two in comparison, a struggle when he actually has to get on with the process of cleaning. 

With a deep breath as a final ‘You got this’ before action, he unlocks his car doors and looks around its interior. He starts off with the junk in the front - first tending to the passenger seat where he finds a couple plastic bags and a few water bottles. He keeps the area around the driver’s seat clean as can be, so he skips that side. Unfortunately, now he has to turn to the nightmare that is the backseats. 

While it may be tame, compared to most, the three paper bags, five disposable coffee cups that he’d dropped to the floor are more than enough to annoy him. He also makes a frustrating find of a hoodie, a few shirts, a hat, and what appears to be a forgotten CVS bag of medication. Much to his dismay, there’s more: handfuls of old receipts that he is now shoving into the garbage bag he has in hand along with straw wrappers, a few stray cold fries dating back to God-knows-when. He sighs, somewhat relieved to see the backseat is doing a lot better now than it was a couple minutes ago, though it’s not even entirely clean just yet. Something catches his eye though - a choker that was probably covered by one of the clothing items he had found. He picks it up, turning it over in his hand. It’s made of soft leather with a gunmetal ”C” and a pentagram embossed on it. It has a leather braided cord on both ends to tie together and no price tag or brand to indicate its origin. He can’t remember buying this...but then again, retail therapy is a thing and it wouldn’t be the first time he forgot a purchase. He gives it one final once-over before shrugging and pocketing it. After collecting the headphones he’d also dumped in the back and retrieving a pair of boots from the trunk, he locks up his car and heads back into the building, mentally preparing himself for facing the terror of cleaning his apartment.

Returning to his place after tossing the trash in the dumpster along the way, Corpse locks the front door behind him and proceeds to drop the things he’s brought back near the front door. 

This defeats the purpose of cleaning up in the first place, Corpse. He scolds himself but that’s what it remains at - just a scold. He slips the hoodie off his torso, but pauses when the leather collar falls to the floor. Tossing the clothing item on a dining room chair behind him, he picks up the choker and, without as much as a second thought, places it around his throat just below his Adam’s apple The metal feels cool against his skin and as he ties the leather cords at the back of his neck the corners of his lips curve upwards just a little. 

I probably look stupid. He thinks to himself. Corpse tries not to look much at his own reflection, mostly because it’s a reminder of how little sleep he gets with the dark circles and worn out, exhausted eyes staring back at him whenever he looks. But when he catches a glimpse of himself in his peripheral on his way to piss, he admires his reflection, or more so the way the black leather stands out across his pale skin. He’s gotta admit, it looks pretty cool. Edgy. Very urban. Goth maybe? But he still prefers the chains he’s known to wear over chokers.

After doing his business, he starts heading toward his office with the intention of recording a new story for his channel if he manages to find a decent submission - and also to ignore the cleaning he still had to do eventually - when the sound of someone banging on the door of his neighbor’s apartment makes him jump, thinking the sound was coming from his door instead. Being the nosey bitch he is, he creeps to his door, listening to the muffled and almost completely incomprehensible voices from across the hall. The screaming match taking place is making him rather nervous and anxious and as much as he’d rather hide in his room and pretend he never heard or saw anything, he also doesn’t want the altercation to escalate into anything physical. 

“You fucking bailed on me!” An angry female shout dominates over the other voice, a male one, that’s quick to follow the previous example with the tone volume.

“You almost got caught, it's not my fault you screwed up!” It’s the male’s turn to shout, his words intriguing Corpse.

Got caught? Screwed up what?

“Fuck you! You don’t just ditch like that! That’s such a dick move!” 

Ditched? If it wasn’t for the ‘getting caught’ part I would’ve thought it was a flopped date?

“I wasn’t about to get arrested for your klepto ass! I’m done with your shit!” The male voice takes the upper hand again, and though the female attempts to speak, she’s promptly cut off by the male, “No! No, I said I’m fucking done! Get the fuck out of my apartment!” A loud bang that sounded remarkably like a chair being flipped over made Corpse jump again with his thoughts once again racing to try and make sense of the situation. 

Klepto? So she’s a thief. Great. He rolls his eyes, not that he needed a reminder that he lives in a bad neighborhood, but he sure got it. He inhales slowly, finally deciding to check the aftermath in the hallway. Again, it isn’t his business whatsoever, but he can’t rest easy until he knows there isn’t an injured person outside his door right now. He peeks out the peephole before unlocking the door and sticking his head out to see a long haired individual still standing in front of his neighbor’s door. They have their back turned to him and are getting prepared to start banging on the door once again. 

“Little scared-ass bitch! I’ll be back for my shit!” She screams, kicking the door to punctuate her point. 

This chick is absolutely nuts. Everything in his gut is telling him to turn around and go back inside but his brain’s less-rational side is convincing him to check on her. He carefully steps into the hallway, swallowing nervously as he reaches out to tap her shoulder. “Are um-...you okay?”

The girl whips around, a furious expression on her face. Corpse makes a pause, his eyes widening at the sight of that familiar face.

Holy shit, I know this girl. 

Standing in front of him is the girl who leaped into the backseat of his car only a few days ago. 

Shit! What are the odds? 

She’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a cropped sweatshirt with the quote “Mercury’s in Gatorade or Some Shit” written in bold letters and a solar system around it, with a leather jacket on top. 

His mouth dries when he makes a realization... 

Oh fuck. She’s way prettier in the natural light instead of that ugly light I saw her in that night. 

“Oh hey! Parking lot guy! What are y-...is that my choker?” She interrupts herself, looking closer at the black leather on his pale skin, her brows furrowing. He’d forgotten he was even wearing it to be honest, but she seems to recognize it. “That’s my fucking choker, dude! I’ve been looking everywhere for it!” She reaches up seemingly with the intention of taking it off him, causing his whole body to freeze up.

Finally finding his senses, Corpse takes half a step back, eyes slightly widened, “Woah, hey! Easy there, I’m pretty sure I bought this.” He warns, hands hesitantly held out in front of himself to try and create some distance between them. 

She seems not to take the hint at his desire for personal space as she reaches out again, stepping closer. “No, I made it with my own two hands, man! It’s got a C on it for my name - Cora.” She says sharply to the point of anger that honestly frightens him a bit. 

He quickly unties the leather straps, removing it from his neck. However, he refuses to give it back so easily as he holds it up out of her reach. 

Maybe if it isn’t on me she won’t be all up in his personal space. Yeah, it’s a bit evil, but he didn’t care. Besides, part of him is still mad about the fact she used his car as a hiding spot, shooting his anxiety through the roof in the process. 

“I feel like you owe me for those fries you stole last time we saw each other. Make it up to me and I’ll give it back. If it’s even yours, that is...” He says, brows furrowing slightly and eyes narrowing as he takes another step back. “And, you know, for nearly getting me busted by the police for something I wasn’t even a part of.” 

Sure, he was talking but her eyes are wandering analyzing him: first the silver chains around his neck that glimmer in the light and his dark hair, strands dangling carelessly as a curtain over his face. 

He too finds himself admiring her, memorizing her features better in this light. She has olive skin and sports a little bit of a tan. Stray locks of wavy dark brown hair hang around her ears having come loose from her messy bun. She has earthy brown eyes with flecks of green that he can’t help but stare at, despite their current sharpness. Her right arm is decorated with a few small tattoos: a skull of some sort of animal that appears to be puking flowers; a small cartoon t-rex floating via many colorful balloons and a brain with a spiky spiral in the center of it. She has a single line drawn around her pinky finger on the hand of the other arm and the shadowy silhouette of a forest around her wrist. However, the one thing Corpse could see better than all of that, was she is pissed. 

“Gimme my fucking choker back! I paid you for those fries, it’s not my fault you spent them on douchebag lessons!” She snaps, hopping to try and grab his arm. 

She is pressed up against him now, a wave of perfume hitting him when she attempts another jump. He holds the choker higher, maybe even subconsciously, just enjoying the warm presence of another body for as long as possible - not that he’d admit that. 

Corpse’s brief content comes crashing down as he stumbles backwards when he feels something hard on his hip and her hands grabbing at the front of his shirt. 

“Wait-“ He tries to say, but is cut off when a good amount of weight pulls at his jeans. “Oh Fuck!” He rasps out, dropping the choker as he slams onto the floor. In the split second he spared to take a breath, his pants had been yanked down to his knees and his neck was crooked up against his door. He’s now lying on the floor as the girl hovers over him having landed with her hand on top of his head and one leg over his chest while the other is pinning his arm down.

While remaining unmoving under the girl, he takes a moment to let the previous five seconds sink in before replaying them in his mind:

This small woman, Cora she said her name was, had put the boot clad toes of her left foot into the pocket of his baggy jeans to use as a stepping stool. In turn, they were shoved down, effectively pantsing him and tearing the pocket before knocking them both to the floor. 

Corpse leans against his door, jeans still around his knees, hair a mess as he watches Cora stand up from where she’d practically tackled him and equip the choker. 

“Serves you right.” She sticks her tongue out, tying the piece of jewelry behind her neck. “Now get up before someone calls the cops, we both know what happens then.” She rolls her eyes and bends down, offering her hands to help him up after he situated his trousers.

“Ah-um...I-...” anxiety started reigning in his chest and head as he realized everything that had happened. He takes both her hands and she uses all her weight to pull him up. Her pull was so strong that when he stood up, he had to hold her tight to keep her from falling back. He stabilizes her, maybe a little too hard because her chest collides with his. He apologizes under his breath, releasing her hands quickly. “Don’t people buy dinner first before yanking off their pants?” He snorts, trying to make light of the situation and crossing his arms over his chest. “But then again, you stole my dinner.” 

“Are you insinuating I should take off my pants?” She asks with a smirk. 

Corpse nearly chokes on his own inhale, eyes wide as he quickly looks away.

Oh my god is she serious? “N-no!” He says, perhaps too quickly. Too loudly. His cheeks turned dark pink as he gapes at her for a moment before furrowing his brows again. He hunches his shoulders a little, doing his best to avoid those sharp hazel eyes. 

She’s pretty. Way too pretty for him and now she has him all flustered. This girl has way too much power over the agoraphobic anxiety bundle that is Corpse. 

“Oh so you’re insinuating that I should buy you dinner since I took off your pants?” She prompts, eyes narrowing with a delighted little smirk on her face. She has to be enjoying watching him squirm in embarrassment, otherwise, why would she keep asking questions like that? Of course she does. She is like every other girl in his life.

“I’m..-just...Forget it.” He mumbles, shrinking back away from her as he turns to go back inside the safety of his apartment. 

She’s probably making fun of me. Great, as if I didn’t have enough self-esteem issues already.

Before he could get inside, a hand grabs his shirt at the small of his back. “Hey, I’m just fucking with you, dude.” She says, giving the shirt’s fabric a tug. 

He turns and looks at her with wary eyes, wondering if she was trying to goad him into falling for her taunting again. But the ice in her gaze has melted and she gives him a crooked smile. “Lemme buy you dinner to pay you back. It’s the least I can do after you helped keep my ass out of jail.” She releases his shirt after a brief moment of reluctance and then offers her hand to him for a handshake. “Oh, I should introduce myself, officially this time. I’m Cora.” 

Corpse looks at her hand and carefully takes it. She has small hands and his long fingers practically engulfed hers as he shakes it lightly. He gives her his name in return and she smiles that light filled, beaming smile he remembers from the car. 

“Nice to, um- meet you, I guess.” He finds himself staring at her, unknowingly still holding her hand in his until she looks up and grins a little wider. 

“This seems like a roundabout way to hold my hand, bro. You could have just asked,you know.” She teases, but this time it felt okay, his embarrassment having faded slightly, but he still hurries to look away and release his hold on her. 

Corpse murmurs a quick apology, but before he could stick his hand back into the ripped pocket of his jeans, she takes hold of it again, tugging him forward. “Come on, lock your door. I’ll buy you something to eat. You drive though.” She lets go of his hand after a moment and, much to his surprise, he catches himself missing the warmth that it provided him while it was there. Turning, he ducked into his apartment to grab his hoodie and keys, feeling suddenly thankful he’d cleaned his car out.

Taglist: @vixenl  @fockingwhore

[klaineownsmysoul]

Why does D agree to certain things? It’s probably because the alternative is worse but then I still don’t understand why he agreed to the sham. He could not have right? Idk what would have happened had he, but I feel anything is better than being married to her. All she does is ruin his reputation, and give him a straight image (to his team), so I genuinely wonder what image he wants for himself because if he didn’t go along with it, what else could they have painted him as that they haven’t already and continue to?

There are endless opinions on this, depending on who you ask. The m/iarren stans and the fans who believe that every message from D’s SM are actually from him will tell you that there was nothing to agree to because he loves her and wanted to marry her because he can’t live without her. They have a love that’s truer than true and are #couple goals. They are perfect for each other in every way and he adores her every breath and she’s just as devoted to him, which is why she follows him everywhere he goes. There’s nothing odd about the length of their relationship and the fact that no one involved in it can give you a consistent time frame. You ask 5 people how they met or when they started dating, you’ll get 5 different answers. All those pics of them together where she’s grabbing onto him and clutching at any limb within her reach are just her being affectionate. The fact that they sit like strangers on a subway during one part of an interview and when it’s noticed, the next part that’s released has both of them being all touchy feely is just coincidence. The dude bro slang and emoji filled posts are just him having fun and being spontaneous. They’re cheeky and silly. Its just him living his best life and there’s nothing forced or untoward about it. He loves only hanging out with her trashy besties and spending nights entertaining the masses in her piano baby/lifelong dream business that she can’t be bothered to promote or run while he accompanies her on the piano looking completely lifeless as she drunkenly butchers one of the 4 songs she knows and thinks she can sing. He’s just being a supportive partner when he talks about the awful branded merchandise from the strip bar during a tv segment that’s supposed to be about his career and then models it later on in a cute coupley pic where he looks like his soul has just left his body. Having her accompany his every move is just what married couples do or didn’t you know that? It’s not natural for one partner to do something without the other, especially if it’s career related. All celeb couples are joined at the hip once they officiate their own wedding. All celeb couples have a wedding - or a great party as it’s sometimes known as - that is corporate sponsored to within an inch of its life. All celeb couples who have one person say they didn’t want to be in a public relationship have a cover story done in Vogue magazine and then have their pr team make sure the link to that article is noted and shared in practically every print interview done for the other person for over a year. This is all completely normal behavior for a 100% believable couple.

There are no such things as contracts that dictate behavior and managers and pr teams don’t post things on their client’s behalf. Lavender relationships and marriages are a thing of the past. No one would dare impose something like that on a celeb in 2021. It must be nice to be that naive. Or sad. Mostly sad. If you believe that, then you haven’t been listening to the stories of celebs who’ve been closeted and decided to come out at the risk of their career. It’s a thousand times easier to market someone as straight - there’s no denying that. And when you’re young and just starting out, you have no leverage whatsoever and will go along with what people tell you to do. If you don’t, you don’t have a career. It’s as simple and evil as that. They hold all the cards and if you want to be a musician or an actor, you have to play by their rules. You sign a deal and before you know, everything has snowballed and you’re in so deep, you don’t know how to begin to climb out. Look at Taylor Swift and the mess she’s gone through with her songs and she’s one of the biggest singers on the planet. Whether you’re a fan or not, you know who she is. If she can’t get control over songs that she freaking wrote because of a shitty contract she signed when she was like 16 without massive amounts of legal issues, what hope do the people who are less famous have? Look at what D said about his lack of input on the evolution of Blaine’s hair and how he didn’t want to rock the boat. Something as simple as that and he didn’t feel like he could or should speak up. Now apply that same mentality to a legal document and think about how hard it would be to try to countermand any part of it, especially when you’re as young as he was then.

D’s team is particularly troublesome because they’re lazy and incompetent and have no interest in marketing him as he really is. The easy way out is the straight way out and that’s their lane. That’s the one they’ve chosen and they will ride that till the wheels fall off. Let’s be honest: D is all RR has. He’s going to milk every drop he can out of D while he can. There’s no celeb out there with an established career who’s considering new management who looks at D’s situation: the circus that is always around him, the garbage that’s posted on his SM in his name, the endless ads for things like ugly ass jewelry and a paid promo pic for a 5 star hotel in the Philippines from the group honeymoon (not a thing) that they crashed after D spent days sifting through garbage with women who live in abject poverty and will never make the kind of money that even a meal at that hotel would cost which totally makes him look awesome - and think “yes! This is what’s been missing all along. Where do I sign?” He’s not getting a free home reno and some TV time from the girl who played Luna in the HP movies and B/ecca T/obin - someone who played a forgettable and unremarkable bitchy blond cheerleader (def breaking the mold there, totally not a trope that can be found in every 80s high school movie or tv show) and now hosts a ridiculous podcast. So he’s going to push his own agenda and make sure that everyone knows his client is straight at every opportunity that’s presented and foist his bride in our faces at even more opportunities just in case it wasn’t clear because oh my god did you hear that D is straight? And he’s been dating this super cool rockstar woman since he was an embryo so there’s no way anything could have ever happened between him and someone else from this show he was on for a while. It wasn’t a big deal or anything. He had a small role and a love interest but they weren’t real popular. I mean if you’ve seen one gay teenage romance, you’ve seen them all. The show’s been over for 5 years and they’re hardly ever mentioned now so there’s no point in keeping them alive. It’s not a role that meant anything to him and it’s certainly not something he would want to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of. I wonder if he was allowed to do that as long as managed to shoehorn in a mention of his lovely ball and chain of many moons. Because that’s what always happens. Doesn’t matter what the topic at hand is - it always seems to come back around to her. And she just smirks and flashes her fake engagement ring at the camera and eats it up because he does all the work and she reaps all the rewards. Like RR, she’ll never give him up without a fight because what then? No one will write articles about what a badass she is. No one will be there to do free promo for her strip bar. No more red carpet pics or designer duds gifted to her. No more free trips to Europe or last minute weekend getaways with his stylist. No one will care about her super secret Instagram account and post pics from it that she’s forwarded over so they get picked up and pumped out to news blogs for maximum coverage. No more pics with actual famous people because who’s inviting a career less nobody to events? She’s a woman in her mid 30s who behaves like an 18 year old on spring break and thinks nothing of it. She doesn’t give a shit how her behavior reflects on D because she doesn’t care about him. All she cares about is what he can provide her and that’s secondhand fame, money, and the image of the best wife to ever wife. But if he was single, then there’d be even more questions about his sexual orientation than there are now and no way to refute anything. So we get this clusterfuck. What they fail to understand is that the harder they push, the more holes they create and the more distasteful this all becomes. I just want to be a fan of D. That’s all I want. But I can’t do that because he comes with a front and center “work family” that I can’t get away from.

I sometimes don’t know what he wants for himself image wise but I truly don’t think it’s this. The difference between in person D and SM D is too great for me to believe he’s really cool with all of it. I don’t know how many more times he has to say that he’s rarely on SM, which should be the reddest of red flags that most of the stuff posted is not coming from him. The fact that he’s taken to SM to rebuff things said in his name that are patently false and insulting reinforces that belief for me. He’s not perfect but he’s not the fake barely literate guy he’s portrayed as. I wouldn’t still be here if I thought that’s who he really was and I wouldn’t care at all about his personal life if it wasn’t shoved down my throat ad naseum.

Well this post kinda got away from me. 😊. I’m so very tired of all this and if I’m tired, D must be exhausted.

[letsfluxshitup]

the fuck just happened

(tw: minor injuries&blood talk and an excessive use of the fuck word)

Manberg was blown up, Schlatt was dead, Techno was a traitor, and he couldn’t trust fucking anyone, could he? He’d trusted Schlatt, he’d trusted Techno, hell, he’d trusted Wilbur, trusted him not to be a stupid motherfucker, and here he fucking was, bleeding and bruised and exhausted. 

Blood was steadily dripping from a wound in his side that he didn’t care to look at, and muscles burning from all the walking, he needed to get the fuck away, away from everyone and everything. He wasn’t at all paying attention to his surroundings, too busy cursing out Schlatt, and Wilbur, and fucking Technoblade, when he stumbled over a rock. 

Someone caught him around the waist, though, and he was hauled back into a warm chest. He hadn’t noticed how cold it had gotten. 

“If you’re gonna kill me at least let me set my spawn first,” Quackity deadpanned, too tired to even consider fighting. “I’ve gotten too far to restart now, alright?”

He was guided down into a sitting position, and then he was met face to face with a concerned Techno. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and they both stared blankly at each other.

“I’ve got a place nearby if you need somewhere to stay,” Techno whispered, trying to preserve the fragile silence.

Quackity stared at him, thinking. It was dark, mobs were sure to start appearing, and he was tired.

“Fuck you,” he hissed, “lead the fucking way, big man, I don’t have any other options. Asshole.”

Techno just sighed, helping Quackity to his feet again, lightly nudging a bruise forming on Quackity’s temple with his nose. Quackity froze, stumbling, before Techno’s hands steadied him. That was a piglin thing, wasn't it? Some way of showing affection? 

Techno’s arm stayed looped around his waist, guiding him along as they walked. Quackity wanted to shrug him off, tell him to go to hell for acting all friendly after killing everyone, but he was cold and Techno was warm. He’d earned this after all the shit he’d put up with, Techno’s shit included.

Quackity hadn’t realized how tired he was once they’d started walking again, and his blinks lasted longer and longer. He leaned more heavily on Techno, sighing as he realized Techno would have to carry him again, but that didn’t really bother him, being carried by Techno was nice. Having his arms wrapped around him, coddling but not cloying.

It made him feel safe, and cared for. Made him feel loved, even, when it was back in Pogtopia, and it was late and cold and Techno cuddled him to his chest in his sleep, purring in his ear as he sleepily nuzzled his neck. His breath would tickle the back of Quackity’s neck as he let out a sleepy sigh.

Quackity blinked awake, the phantom sensation of Techno’s breath on his neck lingering as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

He was in a neat room, lit by a fireplace across from the bed. The room was decorated in warm colors, quilts and blankets laying on every comfy surface.

There was a desk next to the bed, and Techno sat there, focused on a letter he was writing. The candle on the desk reflected off his glasses, and Techno wore glasses? Quackity couldn’t help but think how cute he looked with them, a gold thin chain attached to delicate frames looped around his neck.

Of course Technoblade had old lady glasses.

Quackity awkwardly cleared his throat, and Techno immediately turned towards him.

“Do you need anything?” He said, voice soft as he set his pen down. 

Quackity just huffed, shifting around on the bed. His injuries seemed mostly healed, and that explained the bone deep tiredness he felt. The gash on his side still throbbed though, wrapped in bandages and slathered with salves. At least Techno knew what he was doing.

When he didn’t say anything Techno stood from the desk, heading for the door.

“I’ll make you something to eat, stay right there.” He said, voice soft in the firelight. He looked gentle, kind, in this light. He was wearing a loose white shirt that Quackity could only describe as a pirate shirt, and fitted black pants. He looked ruffled though, not perfectly put together like he normally was. 

He looked human. 

Or, well, mortal, like he was on the same plane of existence as Quackity instead of somewhere above everyone else. It was a good look on him. There was a mess of light cuts and bruises mottled his face, and Quackity was filled with the overwhelming urge to check over every injury, to make sure he was ok. 

Techno had a strange look on his face when Quackity refocused on him, contemplative and soft. He didn’t say anything as he left the room, the crackling of the fire punctuating the soft swish of the shutting door.

When Techno came back, he was holding a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. He settled at the desk again, holding out the bowl to him. 

“What? You’re not gonna feed it to me?” Quackity snarked, tired and irritated, irritated at everything that had happened, irritated at how cute Techno looked when surprised, with the firelight softly highlighting his features, expression unbearably soft.

Techno sighed, before pulling the chair closer to the edge of the bed, and holding out the loaded spoon. Quackity decided very quickly that if getting blown up and killed earned him this soft doting Techno then it was absolutely worth it. 

Quackity took pity on him, though, and took the bowl from him after the first bite.

After he was finished eating, he patted the bed next to him. Techno looked at him, soft expression back in place, before turning to change into pajamas. When Quackity looked back at him he was wearing his potato-patterned nightgown and Quackity couldn’t help his snort.

Techno laid down in the bed next to him, cupping Quackity’s smaller hands in his own. His hands were rough and calloused from work and fighting, and he lightly stroked Quackity’s fingers and palms. He was quietly looking at Quackity’s hands, pressing their hands together to compare, and Quackity’s were almost laughably small compared to his. 

Quackity opened his mouth to say something, anything to diffuse this soft tender moment, something he felt like he was intruding on despite being a part of.

Techno leaned his head down, before looking up at him through his eyelashes, a soft I’m sorry floating between them as Techno’s breath ghosted across his hands.

“It’s- It’s alright. Well, it’s not alright, I guess, but- I dunno-” Quackity stuttered, frustrated, feeling open and raw in front of Techno, in the soft firelight with his hands being gently held. “I get it, I guess. You weren’t just being an ass, or trying to be the bad guy.”

Techno made a noncommittal sound, back to inspecting Quackity’s hands.

“Would it be ok?” He whispered to Quackity’s hands, “Would it be ok if I was the bad guy?”

Quackity wanted to snort at the cheesy line, or shout because everything was happening so much. 

“I don’t- I’m tired, Techno, fucking tired of everyone telling me who’s the good guy and who’s the bad guy and who to trust, all right?” Quackity huffed, grabbing Techno’s face. “From now on there’s no good or bad between us, alright? It’s just me and you now, ok?”

“Ok,” Techno replied, voice soft and wavering slightly, and eye contact wasn't normally Techno’s strong suit but there was no way he could look away from Quackity now.

“Ok. Cool.” Quackity huffed, before brushing the hair out of his face and flopping back on to the bed.

Techno grinned down at him, before remembering the letter he had left on his desk.

“I wrote to Philza, my d- friend. Associate. Ally. He raised Wilbur and Tommy? Uh, anyways, I updated him on the… situation.” He didn’t need to clarify, the smoking crater of Manberg vivid in their minds. “I was thinking we could go visit him for a while, he’s got a nice little set up."

Quackity just nodded, ignoring his stuttering over Philza's role in his life, a soft smile on his face as he reached up to rub at the flush spreading across Techno’s face. Techno could say what he wanted but Quackity knew.

“I was thinkin’ we could invite Tommy and Tubbo and maybe even Wilbur, when things have settled? I’m sure he’d be delighted to see his kids again." He flushed slightly, "I mean, if you want to go, you don’t have to, and I’d understand if you didn’t want to-”

He cut himself off, reaching up to hold Quackity’s hand against his face where it had moved to cup his cheek.

“Aw, Techie, you taking me to meet the parents? Gettin’ kinda serious, aren’t ya?” Quackity grinned at him, voice soft as he continued. “I’d love to. Even if it means I have to see that Wilbur bastard again.”

Techno just snorted before flopping down into bed next to him, burying his face in his neck and he’d gotten caught up in the fighting and the bloodlust and the drama, he’d forgotten how nice it was to just settle down and relax and be safe. 

Quackity was safe, he decided quietly.

[impaladolan]

Capture - Grayson Dolan [9/-]

summary: after a wild night, and an amazing slumber, you agree to have a “normal” day with him.. in which you found out his name.. finally..

warnings: smut, kinda fluff-ish, & swearing

a/n: sorry that it takes me literally years to come out with new capture parts. i’ve just been very unmotivated and i just haven’t been able to put my thoughts into words lately. BUT this is finally part nine and i hope you enjoy ! <3

You braced your body for a hard fucking.

Even in the hazed state of drunkenness, where you could hardly make out the few feet in front of you, your body ached and shivered for his touch. Just feeling the warmth of his tall stature standing behind you created some sort of barrier of relief, like you could feel safe within his arms.

Which should be far from the truth...

You heard the echoing sound of his pants falling to the ground with a thud, while his shirt flew over your head and landed on the floor in front of you. Still, even in the weakness of want and need, you contemplated an escape. You knew you'd never succeed, but it was a thought trapped in the back of your mind at all times.

It felt like it had been forever since he last touched you, when in reality, mere seconds.

You almost cried out for him, but you soon felt the coolness of his hand travel down your spine, eliciting a soft whimper to cascade from your lips. His finger pulled the brim of his shirt up your body, just enough to fully examine your backside like it was a precious artifact. You arched your back to his touch, sighing as both of his hands slid up your sides.

Not a word slipped from his mouth as he slipped his hands beneath your thighs, aligning his hard cock with your drenched pussy, roughly pulling you closer to him.

“What made you think you could get into Daddy’s alcohol?” He questions as he finally sinks in, filling your center’s walls until he no longer could. You held your breath as he stretched your pussy achingly slow, a groan escaping his mouth as his girth becomes surrounded with your warmth.

“And snoop around my office like a fucking bad girl?” Just a slow as before, he retracts his hips from yours, watching as your breathing becomes erratic. “D-Daddy!” You scream when he roughly thrusts into you without warning, beginning a quick pace that made you squeal.

He drew his hand back and laid a harsh slap against your ass, guiding his other hand to your shoulder to hold onto for stability. His own breathing became ragged as his cock reached depths into your pussy, unlike any other guy ever had. His reddened tip brushed just delicately over that body-numbing spot that made you squirm and want to shriek with pleasure.

“God, you’re so fucking tight.” He murmured breathlessly to himself, which only furthered him to want you more. He travels his free hand back down to your slick folds, adding quick circles with his thumb to the hood of your clit. Your mind was too slow to comprehend the amount of ecstasy the man behind you was bringing, but you knew you had to be close to combusting around his sunken cock— and you could hardly wait.

He was close too, his movements became ragged and he too was in a state of euphoria where he couldn’t decipher what’s wrong from right.

“I-I’m so fucking close, Daddyy.” You drug out, hiccuping when he brushes over that spot over and over, like he knew that that’s where it made you shiver and yelp for him. You didn’t wait for a response. Instead, you came all over him— falling apart in his grasp.

And he did the same.

He breathed a soft moan as he came undone, shooting his hot spurts of cum up into you, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Soon enough, he pulled away from you. The warmth of him and his body leaving you sprawled out upon his desk like it had never happened.

You turned over to lay on your back, exhaustion tightening upon your heaving body. If allowed so, you would've fell asleep right on his desk. Possibly even lay down on the floor, for your room seemed like miles away and your legs weren't stable enough to balance on anyway. Your eyes were already shut and your mind became clear, unbothered by anything surrounding you.

Even he had escaped your mind, all until you felt your shirt unravel down your body, shielding the bareness of your skin. He cleaned up the mess that the two of you had made, and tucked a piece of lose hair behind your ear.You didn't care to open your eyes, but your heart seemed to beat a little quicker as he picked you up. His touch was delicate, like you were a priceless piece of art. And he even walked gracefully, slow and simple steps until the warmth of another room struck your frozen face.

His embrace was so comfortable, soothing even, and you couldn't help the heaviness of your eyelids. You were halfway asleep before he laid you down on his bed and lifted the silky smooth covers over your body.

"Goodnight, G." You weren't sure how, but you were capable enough whisper that little phrase. His heart fluttered, a smiling drawing his lips and he just had to bend down and leave a sweet kiss on your cheek.

"Sweet dreams." His once harsh voice was softer than he had ever used it, something familiar that you seemed to have known a long time ago..

Your dreams swept over your fulfilled mind, and a deep sleep fell over you.

-

Your eyes fluttered open and a golden splash of sun had seeped ever so quietly through the window of the room in which you were peacefully sleeping in. You were sunken into the pillowy surface of a gigantic bed, the fluffy duvet covering you entirely and some more. In the imaginary book titled "Top Five Sleeps I've Ever Had," you'd have to say that waking up like this had to at least be pulling in the top three. It was so warm and comfy, and the likelihood of you ever moving from such a position, was very rare.

Now, the man, snoring like an angel would, beside you, shouldn't feel oh-so normal. In fact, anyone with morals and common sense would be outraged and have thrown a fit. After all, he's a stranger— who's gone as far as to kidnap you and hold you captive for however long it's been. But, if we're being honest, you've lost all sense and mindfulness by now. You're flatly surviving with your emotions at this point.

He is pretty attractive though...

Your eyes had nothing else to do except roam his exposed backside, the sunlight sculpting all the creases of his uniformly patterned muscles. And his soft hair, placed angelically upon the pillow where the rest of his head laid. If only it were under different circumstances, would you then and only then consider his affection and presumably put it into a relationship.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to stare?" His hoarse voice rose just a little above a whisper, a temporary chuckle flooding from his lips as well. "I'm admiring, not staring. There's a difference." Although you followed with an eye roll, your lips were twisted into a giddy grin and the roundest part of your cheeks became a rosy pink.

"Still quick-witted, huh?" He began as he rolled his body over to face you. His lips were a swollen red, just enough to leave a small peck upon— only if you could. His hazels were glistening after a long yawn emptied from his mouth, which unfortunately you're extremely contagious to. You open your mouth to replicate what he had just done, but your yawn is stopped short when his soothing words seeped from his lips.

"I wish it were back to normal, like the old days. With me, waking up right next to you." He began as a cheesy smile curved his lips. "Talking, laughing, deep conversations, debating, arguing— everything that we used to do, I want it back. I want you to remember who I am, to remember us."

"Then show me." You subtly demanded. His eyes flickered wider as his cheeks turned into a pinkish-red. Within an instant, he threw the covers off of the two of you and quickly scrambled out of the comfortable bed.

"C'mon." He held out his hand for your own, and with a nice smile you took it. He pulled you up from the bed and onto the chilling floor with ease, soliciting a short giggle as you stabilized your aching body upon your feet.

No matter how peculiar this situation is, you wanted to at least try to have one normal encounter with him.

You kept your hands intertwined as he led you from the room and down the hall towards the kitchen. He only let go when he was in reach of the coffee machine that he as nicely set atop the counter of his large kitchen. “Coffee, M’lady?” He curved one of his brows as he turned on the high tech machine as you happily nodded.

You haven’t had a warm cup of coffee in a long time, it seems...

-

Your stomach began to hurt from all the endless laughing you've been submerged in, reminiscing on your own childhood stories as well as his college adventures for the past couple hours. The two of you left the kitchen and your empty mugs awhile ago, and now you both were comfortably settled upon the expensively clothed couches that were strategically placed in the large living area.

Your mind is at such an ease, talking to a man you’ve somewhat grown to know in this morning.

The way he talked and expressed himself reminded you of someone you used to know, a long time ago. And it made your head fuzzy and clueless, irritated that you couldn't exactly pinpoint who he really was. Once the laughter had subsided, and the never-leaving question once again clouded your mind— you just had to ask.

"Who— Who are you?" Your voice was so curious, so innocent and in need of an answer from the man you've been so desperate to know for ages.

He didn't reply straight away. Instead, he focused his glistened orbs on the likes of yours, reaching depths it never had before. He intakes a large, deep breath, blowing his exhale out through his nose as his chest fell in a relaxed sigh.

"Grayson," He solemnly began, standing from his former seat and taking a few steps towards you, "Dolan." He crouched down before you as his lips sealed, his shaking hands falling onto your shoulders and gracefully sliding up your neck, resting upon the warmth of your cheeks.

You mind tumbled as your tongue wouldn't lather a word to permit from your mouth. You froze, unable to move or even think clearly as realization courses through you.

"It can't be.." You were eventually able to stutter, bringing your hands up to lay flat on his own. A single tear fell from you eye, and Grayson shuttered..

-

He's dead.

And so am I.

to be continued...

[obsessive-ego]

Just a little spit

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Nsft

Reader falls asleep during movie night and drools on beej, things get messy

It's been a long week, work was running you left, right and center, 8 hour shifts, 7 days in a row, so it was no surprised you were low energy, but tonight was movie night and tomorrow was a day off.

Movie night was a weekly occurrence in you little apartment, you've been looking forward to this night all week, exhausted as you were, you were powered by the idea of soon you'll be in comfy clothes and hanging out with you best friend. Changing into your pajamas, a baggy tshirt and boxers you feel as though a weight has been lifted.

"Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice" you say plainly, you've summoned the undead bastard more times then you can remember, so at this point it felt like second nature.

Your bedroom fills with a thick smoke, amazing how he never sets off any fire alarms, waving the smoke away from your face, trying not to cough, you're caught off guard by a multitude of hands grabbing you and pulling you into the soft stomach of the demon in question, 2 sets of arms hold you tight to his midsection as he spins you around with glee.

"Bought time I saw my sweet little breather~ babes did you miss me?"

You stumble about when he places you down, dizzy and trying to find your balance while the ghoul chuckles at you.

"Oh ho, look at you, all casual and comfy for me? Looking like a snack babes" he coos eyeing you up and down, you can feel a shiver run up your spine, his flirting always got to you, wither it was legit or not, it was incredibly easy for the demon to make you blush.

You catch beetlejuice staring, following his eyes you notice hes staring at your legs, before you say anything beetlejuice cuts in

"Didn't think you were wearing any pants there sugar, your shirt hid those cute little boxers from me, kinda bummed you're not just in a shirt and panties for your old pal mr beebleboose" he snorts out an awful cackle

"Are we gonna watch a movie or are you just gonna be an ass all night?" You huff out

"I can do both" the ghoul shrugs, following you to the living room

Beetlejuice flops down on the couch "so besides you, what's on tonight's menu?"

"I was thinking final destination?" You ask waving the dvd case around

"YES! A bunch of breathers getting torn apart for cheating death, an excellent choice my dear Y/n"

You couldnt help but smile at his reaction,

"Oh! What about-"

Ding dong

Beetlejuice just stares at you, you smile "one step ahead of you my friend"

The ghoul gives you a smug grin, grabbing your hand and leading you to the door "got me without a plan sweet stuff, but your pal is the king of improv, I got a trick I've been saving that's really gonna get your knees weak, watch and be amazed" the ghoul then drops his coat around your shoulders, you weren't quite sure why, was it because you were in your pajamas? That you look alittle exposed? Was it a pride thing for him? To have you wrapped in his coat in front of a complete stranger? Who knows with beetlejuice, if it wasnt one thing it was another. The coat didn't exactly help cover much past your baggy shirt, in fact it emphasized the idea you weren't wearing any pants, oh well.

The ghoul swings open the door with glee, practically buzzing with excitement, you couldnt help but feel excited, it was always contagious when beetlejuice was in this type of mood.

It was a miracle that you were still able to get take out, with the amount of times beetlejuice has scared the piss out of the delivery guys, it was a surprise you havent been blocked. But it wasnt like anyone would believe the stories they would tell.

"Pizza for l/n"

"That's me, Thanks man" beetlejuice took the pizza from the guy and handed it to you,

"Hey, sweet stuff, what you order?" The ghoul asks without turning to face you, before you could respond beetlejuice snapped his fingers, your body goes ridged

"Pepperoni, bacon, and snakes" you rattle off nonchalantly, with beetlejuice puppeting you.

"Snakes?" The delivery man responds

Coming back to your senses, you eagerly await what's next.

"Snakes" with that beetlejuice collapses into a pile of black and white striped snakes, you jump at the sight, they begin to slither towards the delivery man, who straight up screeches and blots away.

You hear Beetlejuice's awful laugh, not sure where, as the snakes pile back into the demon you knew.

"Such a beautiful sound, right babes?so, What do ya think sweets? Dont think I didnt see you jump" he snorts out an awful cackle, while you shrink with embarrassment.

Beetlejuice wraps an arm around your shoulders "I'll let it slide sugar, cuz you look so sweet in my jacket, keep it on for the rest of the night and give me a 10 on my performance, and I wont tease ya about being scared" he chuckles squishing his cheek against yours, his scruffy beard scratching your face, he could probably hear your heart hammering away in your chest, you sigh trying to regain what little dignity you had left.

"I have to say bj, that was amazing, you really outdid yourself, a perfect 10"

The moment the words left your mouth you felt the ghoul's grip tighten around you,

"You're too kind, and correct about me being a perfect 10" he flashes you his big fangs, you couldnt help but laugh.

...

You really enjoyed these nights with beetlejuice, unfortunately you're second wind of energy was about to run out, you could barely keep your eyes open, it was bad enough you're already leaning against the ghoul in question, which you were teased with.

"My jacket not enough sweets? You want to get into my pants next?" He snickers, you were really too tired to counter that comment, instead you just mumble something unintelligible and refuse to make eye contact.

The ghoul drapes an arm around you out of habbit, how you would lean against him in the summer to cool off, streaks of pink flashes through his hair as he enjoyed your warmth, your scent, you. He adored your movie nights, just you and him, he would never admit it, but simple things like this, the whole domestic thing, with you, was almost enough to get his undead heart pumping. His perfect little breather, no idea what he did to deserve you, nice, funny, and hot, now if he could get you to confess you love him first then he'd be set, but just like him you are a coward when it came to such things, but beetlejuice can wait, for now.

Snapped from his thoughts, when he clues back into what was happening in the film, he smiles.

"Oh sugar, this is the best part- oh" turning to you, he huffs out a small laugh, you were out cold.

"I'm I that boring sweetheart? Or is it the film?" He chuckles

This wasnt the first time you've done this, beej constantly complained about how hard you worked and how tired it made you, but yet would never complain when youd pass out on him, but teasing was a different ball game, he adored seeing your face scrunch up in embarrassment, how funny you sounded as you try to babble out an excuse, the demon knew you liked him, but still adored messing with you due to how funny your reactions were.

The demon was brought back from his musings with the feeling of a unfamiliar warmth on his shoulder and arm where your head rested. Closer inspection, you were drooling in your sleep, beej couldnt help but smile at this, you are NOT gonna hear the end of that, he chuckles.

You shift in your sleep, and let out a soft groan, the ghoul let's out a desperate sigh, such a beautiful sound, just enough to get his motor running.

Yes beetlejuice had a soft spot for you, but he was a very sexual being, the amount of times the ghoul has spied on you during private times were more then he could remember, the amount of times he's jerked it to the thought of you were also more then he could count, god slash satan he wanted to pound you into the mattress so bad, have you yell out praises on how good a lover he was. It's been awhile since he cleaned his pipes, with your soft warm form pressed up against him, now seems like a pretty good time, the idea of being caught was always a nice thrill, to have you catch him, may be youd be flattered and join in, as impossible as that fantasy was, it was a nice thought.

Without much further convincing, beetlejuice had already pulled his cock from his trousers, and lazily began stroking it with a third hand, the others were busy with you, on draped around you shoulders, the other absentmindedly circling the spot of drool you had made on his shoulders. Every soft noise you made, every sigh, every groan, every mumble you uttered in your sleep was fuel to the fire of the ghoul's arousal.

Stifling a groan he utters "you have no idea what you do to me sweets" still circling the drool spot you made on his shoulder, shifting a bit in you sleep, his finger slips into your mouth, the demon was quick to retreat his hand in fear youd wake up, you only scrunch up you face in response. Beetlejuice let's out a breath he didnt know he was holding, not that he needed to breath, yes he liked the idea of being caught, but in reality youd be sick to your stomach at the sight, you'd probably banish him.

Once beetlejuice realized you were out cold, he returned to his strokes, until it clicks, the hand he was circling the drool you left behind, his finger was now coded in a nice thick layer of your spit. A ghoulish grin spreads across his face, hair fully electric pink, how he dreamed of that beautiful mouth around his cock, how lovely your moans would sound with your lips around his shaft. He couldnt let this opportunity go by, the ghoul slowly begins covering his dick with your salvia, he shivers at the sensation, still warm from your mouth, the ghoul utters a muffled groan "just like that sweetheart, you're so good to me"

Beetlejuice couldnt help but imagine you, mouth hovering over his lap, drool dripping from you mouth onto his cock. He groans softly "lubing me up babes? Such a considerate breather"

Once his cock was as covered as it was gonna be with the slavia you graced him with, he once again began with his strokes, starting off at a slow gentle pace, soft moans escaping his lips, you were asleep next to him, so the ghoul couldnt be as loud as he'd like to. When you were away the ghoul would treat himself to long loud sessions of alone time using your delicate laundry items, he could be as loud as his undead heart desires, not caring about your neighbors, but now, not so much.

"God I wanna slip into that pretty mouth of yours, feel how wet and warm it is, have you lube up my cock with your salvia before I shove it in that cute pussy of yours" he stifles a groan as his strokes begin picking up pace, his eyes were glued to you sleeping face, the arm the demon had around your shoulders slowly began to draw hearts with his fingers on your back.

You mumble and shift a bit in your sleep, your hand finds it's way to his thigh, gripping on to his pants, beetlejuice nearly jumps out of his skin, he was so lost in his fantasy of you, you completely catch him off guard, but hed be lying if he didnt enjoy the scare. It felt real good to have your hand resting on his thigh while he jerked off.

"Naughty little minx, you do want to get into my pants huh?" He chuckled softly.

The thought always crossed his mind during your weekly movie night, he fantasized about how you would grow bored of the film, lean into him, and have those pretty hands of yours find their way into him pants. Having his cute breather lazily jerk him off while watching a horror film easily had to be in the top five of his fantasies of you, simple but still delicious.

"Naughty thing" the ghoul stifles a groan as his pace picks up, the thought of your hand replacing his quickly taking over his mind.

Beetlejuice was using every ounce of strength he possessed to not start bucking up into his hand, not wanting to jostle you awake since you were leaning on the ghoul. Chasing his own orgasm, his pace becomes quite harsh, to the point where the ghoul summoned an extra hand just to bite and muffle his moans.

It felt so good, having you so close to him, hand on his thigh, salvia on his cock, god slash satan he wanted to scream out in bliss, he was so close, so focused on your sleeping face, his sweet breather, so kind and considerate, using their spit as lube for a hand job, he couldnt have asked for a better breather.

"Your so good to me sugar, you know just how to treat a guy, I'm gonna pay you back, anything you want, upstairs, downstairs, butt stuff, just say the word doll~" he groans out.

"...bee.." you mumble, shifting in your sleep, ever so gently sliding your hand up his thigh, that was enough to get the ghoul to the finish line.

"F-fuck y/n" and with that the ghoul shoots his load, into his hand and his lap, thank god slash satan it missed your hand, as hot as itd be to have those pretty hands of yours covered in his cum, now was not that time.

A smug grin plastered across his face as he gazes at you a soft "thank you" is whispered your way, as he slides his now soft cock back into his pants, snapping his fingers to clean himself up as of nothing happened.

The electricity of bright pink slowly leaves his hair, being replaced with a much softer mix of pink and green, the hand around your shoulders now lazily rubbing circles on your back, the film long over, beetlejuice snaps his fingers once again and the tv turns off leaving the two of you in gentle darkness.

"Nigh sweet stuff"

Bonus

Waking up to the buzzing sound of your phone you groan, ot was your day off and yet you forgot to turn your alarm off.

"Morning babes"

No, you feel asleep on the couch again, leaving against that bastard "morning" you grumble

As you try to get up to start your day beej pulls you back down into him lap

"Oh no sugar, you're not getting away that easy~ was I so boring last night you fell asleep? After my amazing performance too, such a cruel little breather you are" he teases "not to mention you were drooling on too" he cackles pointing at the spot.

"Doll if you wanted to spit on me, I can name some better places then my arm" he hollers with his awful laugh.

You're never gonna hear the end of this.

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 11

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  1868

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Pregnancy, sex talk

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 11

Living with Clint and Natasha was the best worst thing you’d ever done.  You loved being around them.  They were fun and hilarious and they doted on you.  While your morning sickness was kicking your ass, there was always one of them there with a cool compress, rubbing your back.  They kept saltines and ginger ale on hand.  They made sure you took your anti-nausea medication and your pregnancy vitamins.  They were even pulling in favors from friends.  Wanda had made up several batches of different soups she used to cook with her mother that you could eat with an upset stomach, and Pepper dropped off a few things that had helped with her when she was pregnant with Morgan.

As your morning sickness eased up at the end of the first trimester, you were hit by a sudden wave of energy.  They moved on to doing midnight runs to get that very weirdly specific thing you were craving and offering you foot and back rubs every time you even remotely complained.

That would all be fine - more than fine.  It was amazing and they were amazing.  Only you couldn’t pretend that you weren’t feeling the way you were feeling about them anymore.  You’d fallen head over heels for the both of them.  Not to mention that your hormones being all out of whack meant you could go from being horny as hell to in tears in sixty seconds flat. Any time you thought about how you felt about them you were just as likely to want to jump them as to hide and cry about how terrible a person you were for not being able to get those feelings in check.

“Alright,” Clint said, coming in with a stack of different boxes and containers and putting them on the counter.  “We have pizza, we have lo mein, we have fried chicken and biscuits, we have chocolate eclairs. Did I forget anything?”

“Whatchamacallit,” you said, sitting forward in the chair.

Clint fished around in the pocket of his coat and pulled out the candy bar.  “One ‘Whatchamacallit’,” he said, miming slamming it down on the table.

“Thank you, Clint.  You’re the best,” you said and grabbed the container of noodles and the chopsticks.

“You know it,” he said, getting a slice of the pizza.

Natasha came into the room with drinks and took a seat next to you.  “Your cravings have been off the charts lately.”

“Yeah, I read they don’t really know why they happen, but I just need all the sugar and salt,” you said.

 “I read it had to do with lacking dopamine,” Natasha said.

“I feel that,” Clint said, raising his hand to you.  “High five!”

You laughed and looked at his hand.  “I’m not high fiving your depression, Clint.”

“Damn it,” Clint said, putting his hand back down.  “That’s not gonna help it.”

“You feeling okay though?”  Natasha asked.  “Feeling down or … you know?”

“Honestly, yeah, I feel good,” you admitted.  “I got a huge burst of energy when I stopped getting morning sickness.  It’s like I’m running at 110%.  I really like living with you guys.  The only thing…”  You trailed off and shook your head.

“What is it?”  Clint asked.  “You need a softer mattress?  More pillows?”

You shook your head.  “No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Clint looked at you confused.  Like he couldn’t imagine a possible reason why you’d keep a secret from him.  It made sense. You didn’t normally keep things from him.  There were days when you told him pregnancy stuff in such detail that he asked you to stop sharing.

“You know you can tell us anything, right?”  Natasha said. “We’ll do whatever we can for you.”

“That’s the problem,” you mumbled, shoving a huge mouthful of noodles into your mouth.

“What?  Is it that we’re smothering you?”  Natasha asked, putting her hand on your leg. “You can tell us.  I know I’ve been a little overbearing, but I’m still expecting the other shoe to drop.”

“It’s not that.  You’ve been fine, I know what your head has been like.  It’s nothing… no...I guess it is… you know what...never mind…” you babbled.  You got up grabbing the box of noodles.  “I’m going to go eat on the roof.”

As you hurried out of the room you noticed Natasha and Clint give each other a look just before you closed the door.  You went straight up to the roof of the building.  The building that the Avengers lived in was set below most of the others, so the view of the compound was obscured by the large white office building. It was set right on the water, and if you sat looking out at the Huson it was just the river and forest for miles and it was almost like it was just a normal apartment block with amazing views.

You perched on the edge of the building, one hand cradling your small belly while you ate the noodles.  You’d only been up there for fifteen minutes when Clint appeared behind you.

“You forgot your ‘Whatchamacallit’,” he said, sitting beside you and putting the candy bar on the ledge between the two of you.

“Thanks, Clint,” you said.  “Sorry, I’m being weird. Nat’s not too worried is she?”

“She’s a little worried.  But she also gets you might be a little hormonal right now,” Clint said.

“Clint!”  You squawked.

He laughed and nudged you gently.  “It’s nice up here, huh?”  You nodded and he rubbed your back.  “I always feel like I see everything better when I’m up here.  You know what I mean?”  He said.  You nodded again and he lowered his hand, resting on it on the edge of the building as he swung his legs over the edge.  “The thing is sex, right?  You’re super horny?  I read that some women get like that when they’re pregnant.”

You whined and nodded.  “Yes.  It’s like half of what I think of.  Then food.  Then just everything else.”

“And we’ve had plenty of sex, so you know we’d help you out.  So I’m guessing you didn’t tell us, because you’ve caught feelings and you think the sex will just make them stronger?”  He asked.

It was annoying how much Clint picked up on.  He acted like an idiot, but he never missed a single thing.  You nodded and picked up the candy, tearing it open and biting into it, hoping that the chocolate-coated peanut wafers would distract you from the other things you were feeling.

“Are you in love with Nat?”  Clint asked.  “Cause… I get it.  And… I can share.”

You squeezed your eyes closed and shook your head.  “It’s both of you.”

Clint started laughing.  “Then what’s the problem?”

“Clint,” you said, hoping that the pain wasn’t as evident in your voice as you felt.  “I don’t just want something casual.  I’m falling in love with you both, and I’m doing this -” you gestured to your stomach “-so you guys can be parents.  It’s all complicated and you’re not going to have time to start a new thing.  And my hormones are all messed up.   The timing is off and … and…”

Clint took your hand and gently squeezed it.  “Babe,” he said, gently.  “Nat and I have been referring to you as our girlfriend since before you offered to have our baby.”

You looked up at him with your brow furrowed.  “You have?”

“Yeah, we have.  For a while we thought you felt the same way, but then you started dating and you’d stop sleeping with us,” he explained.  “We just… didn’t think you could do the polyamory thing.  You’d only ever sleep with us when you weren’t dating anyone else and when you did sleep with us it was always just when you were super desperate and you kept it very casual.  So we called you our girlfriend to each other, but like… you were our casual girlfriend.  And we knew one day we’d have to lose you.  But if you’re saying you want us?  We already consider you ours.”

“What about the baby?”  You asked.

Clint let out a breath and tapped his fingers on the back of your hand.  “I guess there’s a lot to talk about and work out there.  ‘Cause if you really want in - properly in and not just the casual side thing that you kinda already have been doing the whole time - then you’re gonna be a mommy too, not just the best aunt a kid could possibly have.”  He paused and ruffled his hand through his hair. “But the way I figure, if you do want that, it’s kinda perfect, isn’t it?  I mean, there’s three of us.  It’s got mine and Nat’s genes and you’re the one carrying it.  We’re all connected to the little peanut.”

Your heart has started hammering.  It felt like you were sitting on the precipice of something good.  But you worried that it was just an illusion and if you plunged in it would be the end of everything.

“What if it doesn’t work out?”  You asked.

Clint laughed softly.  “Oh, babe,” he said gently.  “Literally every day, multiple times a day I ask myself that.  I wake up in the morning and think, ‘what if today’s the day Nat realizes what a piece of shit I am, and I lose her’.  And I get to work and think, ‘what If today Steve realizes that an archer is a ridiculous thing to have in his superhero team’.  Nat will look at me a certain way, or get frustrated with me and I will be sure that’s it.  I ruined it.  I keep going because so far no one has worked it out I’m a fraud.  And she makes me happy.  And you make me happy too.  So if you want to try and fake it with me.  I’d really like that.”

Your heart broke for him and you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck.  You didn’t know if it was just that you were hormonal and a little over-emotional, but you started crying freely, your tears wetting Clint’s shirt.  He wrapped his arms about you and held you steady as you cried against him.

As you started to get control of yourself Clint rubbed your back slowly.  “Is that a ‘yes’?”  He whispered.

You nodded and he tilted your chin up to look at him.  His blue eyes looked down at you in that same soft and loving way he looked at Natasha.  Like she hung the stars in the sky just for him.  You leaned up, your lips barely parted and he bridged the difference, kissing you deeply but tenderly.

He pulled back slowly and you chased his lips, reluctant to let the kiss end because as soon as it did, everything would be different, and different didn’t always mean better.  “You wanna come downstairs and talk to Nat?  Maybe eat the rest of that food I brought you?”

You nodded.  “Yeah.  Okay.”

He got up and offered you his hand.  You stood, taking it and he led you back downstairs to the apartment he shared with Natasha.

// NEXT

[holylulusworld]

Stronghold (3)

Summary: Two years after the people returned from the blip you find yourself searching for your purpose in life.

Pairing: Nomad!Steve x Reader, former Sean x Reader

Characters: Ofc’s

Warnings: angst, isolation, comforting, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, cuddling & snuggling, lumberjack vibes, language, jealousy, mentions of blowjob/protected sex, breeding kink, wish for child

Words: 2,9 k+

<< Part 2

Solitude masterlist

“Steve,” you fist the sheets, try to grab anything to hold tight onto whilst the man behind you has a grand time taking you apart. “Oh-god, Captain!” you cry out, falling exhausted onto the bed.

“Look at you,” Steve purrs, watching his seed run down your thighs, a smirk on his lips. “You know, we could have used a condom. I got one left.”

“Damn, we used like thirty condoms in not three weeks. I bet that’s a record,” you exclaim, giggling into the cushions. “I never thought I would say so, but I need a break or you’ll break me with your dick.”

“Break,” he is covering your body with his larger frame, to press his face into the crook of your neck. “I’ll grant you a break, doll.”

“The snow, it melts slowly, and I thought we could talk about me staying here. I mean, are you sure you want me to stay? We barely know each other,” Steve chuckles, nibbling along your shoulder.

“We know each other very well, Y/N,” you groan, pressing your ass against his crotch. “I didn’t mean our bodies, Steve. Do not distract me, Rogers.”

“I just need to know if you are mad that I lied about the snow to keep you here,” Steve murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your neck. “I want you to stay, but not pressure you.”

“I could’ve left anytime, Steve. I just need to know if you would’ve let me go,” gasping Steve rolls you onto your back, nodding eagerly. “Of course, doll. I would never keep you here if you want to go.”

“I don’t want to leave, Steve but free will is important to me. I didn’t believe you wanted to keep me hostage, even though, you’re a damn sexy kidnapper,” you wiggle your eyebrows, licking your lips. “How about we talk after a hot shower, breakfast and you telling me how the heck you are hard again.”

“Perks of the serum, Y/N,” grinning cheekily Steve looks at your glistening sex, groaning silently. “If not for the break, I’d devour you again…”

“Fuck the break, Stevie,” you grasp for Steve’s shoulders, looking down your body to watch his rigid cock take you apart all over again. “I love how you fuck me.”

“Jesus, doll. We are going to be sore the whole day if we don’t stop doing it,” laughing at Steve’s words you wrap your arms around his neck, pecking his lips with every thrust. “But I’ll risk it with pleasure.

“God, I’ll never leave your bed, shower, or this cabin again. Not with the way you claim my body,” Steve groans at your words, digging his fingers deeper into your ass to speed up. “Holy fuck!” Another high spread through your body enlights all nerves until you go limp in Steve’s arms.

You fall against his chest, whimpering when his warmth fills you. “I don’t even care if you knocked me up, Steve. I don’t know why, but I feel like I belong.”

“Same, Y/N. I mean, no other girl made me sore down there,” Steve grins, pecking your forehead. “I suggest we have a break until tonight or we will not be able to sit properly.”

“Worth it, Steve. Totally worth it,” exhausted you just rest your body against Steve’s chest, sighing dreamily. “Love you, my sexy lumberjack.”

Steve's heart jumps in his chest, almost bursts open when you sleepily mumble the words he hoped to hear. “Love you too, Y/N. I know this is sudden, but I feel a connection to you I never felt before.”

“My sexy lumberjack is mine,” you smirk, lifting your head to meet Steve’s eyes. “I am like a plague or foot fungus, hard to get rid of.”

Steve laughs, even shakes his head at your words, not wanting to ever get rid of you. “How about we get dressed, have breakfast, and check if it’s safe to drive today.”

“Sounds like a plan, Captain. Do you have any safety instructions?” giggling you hide your face in Steve’s neck, kissing the mark you left softly. “I mean, I never traveled with a hero and the savior of the world before.”

“Just stay close to me, look pretty, and don’t make me devour you again for a few hours, even I feel sore,” you snort at Steve’s words, letting him carefully pull out. “I am afraid we have to shower again to get my dirty girl clean.”

“Naughty, lumberjack Rogers,” you tease, biting his neck again. “Now clean the mess you made down there. I can’t travel with Captain America while his cum dries on my thighs.

“Doll, stop talking like that. I can’t guarantee I will not break you,” Steve presses you against the cool tile wall, holding you there. “I can still take you apart.”

“Later, Captain…”

“Did I ever tell you that you look like a domestic dream while making breakfast for me,” you peck Steve’s cheek, glancing at the eggs he made. “Such a great catch. Good looking, smart, strong, a good cook and we do not want to talk about your qualities in the bedroom. I guess you’re mine, no discussion,” you swoon, preparing the plates. “I…I feel good with you Steve.”

“I feel good with you too, and I do not mean the physical part,” smirking Steve watches you steal a slice of bacon. “We match in the bedroom too, but I love how you accept me, my decision to give up being Captain America and that you let me read you a book every night.”

“I love curling in your lap and listen to your deep voice lulling me into sleep. No one gave me the feeling of being save before,” you round the kitchen counter to wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his back. “I don’t want to leave our stronghold.”

“Doll, we have to leave one day or another. I want to buy more supplies, especially condoms,” hiding your face into his flannel you giggle. “I mean, I could just get you pregnant but I don’t know if we are ready for tiny lumberjacks running around the cabin.”

“I can get a new shot, Steve. I kinda like to feel you fill me up,” Steve groans, smirking when you let your hands wander over his chest, down to his abs. “I like it when you mark me.”

“I like it too, doll. Now eat, and we can get dressed to drive to your storage room. We will have to make a list. Spring is close, but sometimes even during spring the snow comes back, and we are snowed in again.”

“Ready?” Steve can see the hesitation in your eyes. Somehow you believe you will not return to the cabin if you leave it now. “We will drive to your storage room, your doctors’ practice and later, we’ll get everything we need.”

“I don’t want to go,” whining you wrap your arms around Steve, pressing your face into his wide chest. “Promise me to bring me back here, Steve.”

“Promised, Y/N. I’ll bring you back here and no one can stop me,” Steve pecks your lips, running his hands up and down your arms to calm you. “Now take a deep breath and we go to my car. Maybe we see your friend the wolf.”

“No! That asshole can stay away!” You grunt, following Steve outside of the cabin. He locks the cabin with remote control, giving you a wink.

“Stark technology. No one gets inside when I am away so,” he smirks, cupping your face, “your friend the wolf can’t wait for you on my bed.”

“Awe, what a pity, Steve. I wanted to have a party with Wolvie later,” taking Steve’s offered hand you walk toward his SUV. “You know, I never thought I’d return to my hometown with Captain America.”

“All done,” you sigh, rubbing your upper arm. “I got a shot and my doctor will send my file to the doctor I found. She has her practice not far away from the cabin in town.”

“What’s next,” looking at the list he made Steve crosses your doctors’ practice out. “We got your shot; I bought more books at this nice shop. Anything else you want to do except for getting your things from the storage room?”

“We could have a break. Over there is a nice café,” your stomach rumbles, and Steve snickers, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Let’s have a snack and we can take care of the storage room later.”

“You’re such a good boyfriend,” Steve smiles at your words, not giving away he loves when you call him your boyfriend. “Always taking care of your girl.”

“Always, doll.”

“I’ll have a slice of your cherry pie and one of the cupcakes with strawberry flavor. My boyfriend wants a slice of apple pie, whipped cream, and the blueberry muffin,” you order and Steve smirks.

“What if I do not like apple pie, Y/N?”

You slide your fingers over the hand he placed onto the table, meeting his gaze. “I know you like it, Stevie. I could bake you one too.”

“Hmm, doll. I guess this means I can never let you out of my clutches. You belong with me,” Steve leans toward you to kiss your lips softly. “Love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too, Steve,” you run your fingers through his hair, smiling as he closes his eyes to enjoy your touch.

“Y/N?” A voice you thought you would never hear again let your body go stiff. “I knew it’s you when you walked into the café. You never could resist Milly’s pie,” Sean coos.

“Who’s that?” Steve ask already knowing who ruined your romantic moment, you showed him one of the few pictures on your phone.

“I am Sean Morton, Y/N’s husband,” Steve gets up to intimidate tower over your ex-husband. Sean’s eyes widen, and his hand hurts when Steve takes it to squeeze it a bit too hard.

“Ex-husband,” you pipe. “We signed the papers, Sean.”

“Right,” panting Sean presses his hand to his chest, whining as the pain will not subside. “How have you been, Y/N? The last thing I heard was that you wanted to go on a trip. Seems like you found yourself a lumberjack to keep you warm.”

Now Steve takes off his sunglasses and the base cap. He can see the change in Sean’s posture. Your ex-husband’s shoulders slump, his jaw goes slack, and he gasps audibly.

“How impolite of me, Sean. I am Steve, Steve Rogers, Y/N’s boyfriend, and the man taking her on the trip. It was a great adventure,” Steve lies, and you smile up at him, nodding eagerly.

“There was a wolf, Sean. Can you believe that wild beast ran off only as he got a glimpse of my tall boyfriend? He didn’t even need his strength,” you smirk when Sean’s girlfriend, the woman you found in your bed steps toward your table.

“Steve, baby,” you get up from your chair, moving your arm around Steve’s waist. “This is the woman I told you about. The one I found in my bed,” you smile sweetly, loving the way her face falls.

“Well, I have to thank you, Sean,” your ex-husband tries to swallow the lump in his throat watching Steve, wrap one strong arm around you, “without your infidelity there was no chance for me to find the love of my life,” Steve narrows his eyes, silently warning Sean to retreat and leave you alone.

“Yeah-uh, erm,” stammering Sean nervously runs his fingers through his hair. “I just came over to say ‘hi’, that’s all. Have a great day and enjoy the pie.” Steve smirks hearing the woman ask if you are with Captain America.

“Well, that was unpleasant,” you lean your head against Steve’s shoulder whilst he drives toward the storage room. “But it was freeing too. I am glad he saw that I moved on with a better man.”

“I wish you never experienced such betrayal,” Steve parks the car, smiling when you look up at him. “Steve, I am not sorry as I met you this way.”

“Let’s get your things and drive back home,” home, the word makes you feel warm.While you watch Steve get out of his SUV you smile again, when he opens the door to the passenger seat, holding out his hand.

“Always the gentleman, Mr. Rogers,” you smirk, placing your hand into Steve.

“A nice collection of books”, Steve hums, carrying the last box toward the car.

“Such a pleasure watching you carry heavy things,” you giggle when Steve slaps your ass playfully.

“Captain Rogers,” biting your lower lip you watch Steve bend down to cup your face. He’s pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “You naughty man.”

“Only for you, doll.”

“We've got everything inside,” you fall onto the couch, groaning. “That guy looked at us as if we want to rob the store.” Steve strips his plaid of, and you whimper watching his muscles flex.

“We bought their whole stock of condoms, doll. What did you expect to happen?” Steve grins, it’s a dirty grin and you feel your core ache for him once again. “Not now, kitten,” he purrs, and you crawl toward Steve, watching him with doe eyes and parted lips.

“You know, we could test those condoms,” you snicker, pointing toward the bag filled with condoms, lube, and other things to pass the time the best way possible. “Cherry taste, Stevie. I could enjoy the taste and your cock on my tongue.”

“Holy,” Steve groans, not wanting to give in again. “We need to sort the supplies, find a place to store your clothes, memorabilia, and everything else.”

“Later,” you try, batting your eyelashes. “I want to taste your dick with those condoms, Steve.” You can see the struggle on your boyfriend’s face but this time he stays adamant.

“I’ll give you all you want later, doll. Now let’s unload the boxes, let me drive the car into the garage,” disappointed you get up from the couch, standing on tiptoes to peck Steve’s lips.

“Look, the first snowdrops grow behind the cabin,” carefully placing the vulnerable flowers into a glass Steve hands you the snowdrops. Your heart flutters watching this strong, tall, and deadly man carefully carrying the tiny flowers.

“I bet you would make a great dad,” blurring out what was on your mind for days you feel the heat creep into your cheeks. “I mean-erm,” embarrassed you glance at the flowers in Steve’s hands.

“Y/N, do you have baby or cabin fever?” Steve smirks, stepping closer to lift your chin with his index finger. “I’d like to make you a mother, doll. Just say the word,” you grasp for his shirt, fisting it tightly.

“I didn’t get the shot, no birth control,” whining you look up at Steve. “I turned thirty last year and wanted a baby for so long. With Sean gone for five years, all I could do was yearning and now I want it so bad.”

You find yourself on the table, clothes in shreds only moments later. Steve ignores he’s still sore, just like you when he slides into you.

“Stevie,” you arch your back, watching him spread your legs wide to watch his cock disappear inside your body. Braced on your elbows you nod eagerly, following Steve’s eyes to watch his cock push in and pull out, push in and pull out.

“I am going to put a baby inside of this belly right now,” he purrs, cupping the back of your neck to force you to look into his eyes at the very moment he starts to rock his hips slowly. “There’s no way you will not be full of my child.”

“Steve, I love your way to do dirty talk,” you laugh, looking up at Steve. You get lost in his ocean blue eyes whilst you grip the hand on your hip. “Give me a baby.”

“All you want, doll. Shit,” you wrap your legs around his waist, rocking your body, meeting every thrust. “I want you to stay here, be mine and never look back.” You can see the adoration in Steve’s eyes and a hint of possessiveness. “Love you, Y/N.”

“I, oh-fuck, love you too,” the coil tightens, unwinds faster than ever before.

You’ve got no clue if it was the encounter with your ex-husband, the way Steve looks at you, or that you are doing it for the first to have a baby but the high rippling through your body makes you cry.

“Did I hurt you?” Concerned Steve watches you sniffle. “Darling? Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I just feel so happy, Steve,” you know it’s stupid to cry during sex, but you can’t stop your tears. “Shit, I never cried during sex.”

“Phew, I thought I broke you,” Steve wraps his arms around you, jerking his hips a few more times before you feel his warmth fill you.

Snuggled into Steve’s chest in the old armchair he loves so much, a warm blanket wrapped around your bodies you watch the snowfall. The whole world is a with wonderland again but you only care about the man holding you in his arms.

For the first time, you feel like you belong, you feel like you found your home, your stronghold…

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[pixie-cocaine]

ATEEZ Reaction To: Their sick S.O. throwing up

Hello sunshine, I love your Ateez writings so much! Can I request an Ateez reaction to you waking up in the middle of the night being sick and you throw up?

Ohhh this is a good one, your mind. This is a non-gender specific one, so there’s there’s that, as well :)

Songs Listened To: My bird’s chirping

Hongjoong ♡:

• Snoozin woozin when he felt the bed shake as you struggled to throw the covers off of you

• In his post-sleep haze, he’d still be very concerned as to why you were so frantic

• “What’s wrong?”

• You wouldn’t be able to answer though, because, well, just as you hopped out of the bed and began to run to the open door...

• Blurghwaggbleghughagh 🤮

• Immediately rushed up to go steady you because gorl- you were HEAVING

• Holding onto that wall for dear life, eyes tearing up and everything. Yikies, here’s a glass of water or sum

• Tried scrubbing the vomit off your shirt, also went to fetch a wet rag and water

• “Fuck..,” You’d still be queasy, unconciously holding your stomach and staring down at the multi-colored puddle of your mushy dinner, trying not to look at Joong out of an odd sense of embarrasment, “I’m sorry… it got everywhere…”

• “Hey, hey, no一it’s not your fault at all, honey,” He’d frown and guide you back to bed

• Helped you change into different jammies and cleaned up with you, as well as got you a bucket

• Wouldn’t stop cuddling you and asking if you still felt gross ;(

Seonghwa ♡:

• You’d already felt your gut stirring when you went to bed, but you weren’t expecting to wake up in a cold sweat and experience the disgusting nausea that was happening in the same bed as Hwa

• You let out a pained whimper, head aching like it was being pounded on, and attempted to sit up

• You suceeded, but not without waking up Seonghwa

• He made a noise that you couldn’t quite register in the pain you were in, cuz damn you were trying your hardest to not pass out from the horrible headache-bordering-on-migraine

• “Mm… Baby…? Are you ok?”

• “I-… Ow..,” Was all you could get out. Your voice wavered, cracking, and the copious amounts of saliva that began to coat your mouth was a clear sign your stomach was readying to empty its contents, not to mention the lurching of your intestines

• The best word to describe it would be ‘agonizing’

• One second you were trying to slide the covers off you, the next, you were leant forward and throwing up all over the comforters and mattress

• It was literally horrible, dawg. Your throat felt like it was forcing itself open, and the yellow chunder that expelled from your mouth burned the inside lining of your trachea. You wanted to game end, maaan 😔🤙

• But it all turned out ok, because Hwa was there to help :))

• Acted fast after he got over his initial shock; bundled up the blankets and ushered you off the bed, gently pushing you towards the bathroom with a kiss to your forehead so you could go take a shower, and cleaned up the bed hella quick

• When you came back, he’d gave you a bunch of kitheth all over your face except your lips and slipped a hand under your shirt to gently rub/pat your tummy while you relaxed into his chest cuz he knew you still felt groggy (I’m gonna start crying, bro..)

Yunho ♡:

• Freaked the fuck out when you stumbled out of the bed and into the bathroom

• Though, since that bitch was sleep, it looked kinda like 😵 

• “____..?”

• Followed you haphazardly out of pure worry, and was like “Oh! 😧” when he saw you bent over the toilet and just adujadhbauidbuaqbduw into it

• The sounds also made him feel worse

• Nasty as hell, why do you sound like you’re throwing buckets of water into a kitty pool and burp right before it splashes

• Anyways

• It was hell for you :)

• While the ceramic of the toilet’s sides as well as the cold tile floor helped cool your feverish body and hands down, the smell of the water made your nausea worse. You could feel the sweat gather at your forehead as you banged your hand down on the lid out of strain and need to get bearings, gorl, you looked a literal mess

• You’re lucky Yunho doesn’t judge since he’s sweetness :D)

• Was genuinely really concerned; eyebrows knit in regard and a hand rubbing your back with each retch you made

• “It’s ok.. It’s ok,” He’d repeat, not really knowing any other way to comfort you

• When you were done, he’d kiss your temple and help wash your mouth out, praising you for getting to the bathroom in time and being so strong

• Scared puppy eyes the entire time [insert a crowd of awes]

Yeosang ♡:

• Had no idea what was going on when he opened his eyes upon the sound of your staggering footsteps in the hallway

• Then he heard you vomiting

• Was like ‘word? I know they did not just...’ and got up to peek his head out from the doorway

• Saw you bent over, only a couple feet from the bathroom, and holding onto the wall for dear life as you spewed ALL OVER the floor

• Couldn’t help but make a ‘😬’ face

• Like, you’re his baby, dawg

• He doesn’t wanna see you like that 😔

• Nervously laughed before moving over to step around the puddle, coming back with cleaning supplies, a cold rag, and a bucket

• “And here I was, telling you that you had a stomach bug and should get a bucket just in case”

• “I don’t need your bullshit right now, Yeosang,” You flipped him the bird but still smiled at his teasing, then cleaned up the mess with him 

• He’d tucked you into bed and put the rag on your forehead (kithed your eyelid for good luck UwU), and was about to roll over and go back to sleep when he realized the face you were making

• You looked kinda sad bro :(

• “What’s wrong?”

• “I feel kinda guilty. You were right, I should’ve gotten a bucket so I didn’t have our hallway all nast-”

• “I was just kidding, baby,” He grinned and put an arm above your head as he turned on his side to face you, caressing your cheek, “It wasn’t your fault. Plus, it was a... bonding moment?”

• “You literally got puke on your big toe, Yeosang-”

San ♡:

• When he felt the bed dip as you stood up from it, he cracked an eye open at first, but then he heard you gag and the sound of you spilling your fucking stomach out

• Shot up from his original position with wide eyes

• Now he was fully awake lol

• “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me..,” You said to yourself, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve and looking back at San with an expression that apologized before he could ask if you threw up

• “Did you...?”

• “Yeah.. Just go back to sleep, I’ll clean it up,” You didn’t give him time to reply before you already left the room to go get napkins and a cleaning agent

• In the end, he still helped with wiping it up :)

• Gave you some pepto bismol before you both laid down

• “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling bad... I could’ve gotten you medicine..”

• “WHY ARE YOU CRYING-”

Mingi ♡:

• Panicky ;(

• He was wondering where you were when he woke up because he was thirsty

• So on his way to the kitchen, he got his answer

• Bitch- you’re so loud and for what lmao

• I get it, I get it. You’re going through a horrible experience by literally regorging both stomach acid and everything you’ve eaten the day before, but like, why do you sound like you’re dying

• Shit, maybe you are, nvm

• Pushed the already ajar bathroom door open the rest of the way and got an unwanted eyefull of you hurling into the toilet bowl

• Bb was so worried about youuuu *sobs*

• Didn’t know what to do with himself for a sec, so he kinda just bounced in place and messed with his fingernails until he finally realised that it’d be helpful if he got you some medicine

• “I got you something for your stomach,” He stood beside you by the sink counter, where you were rinsing your mouth out, and held out the round pink tablets for you to sit on the surface of your tongue and wash down with some water

• “Thanks, babe,” You mustered a weak smile, ruffling his hair in adoration for the boy

• “Oh, you look like a zombie, ____!” 

• A crybaby

• Literally flung himself onto you and squeezed you half to death, nuzzling his cheek against your own and ready to cry for you when you put a hand on his chest and let out an exhausted groan

• “You’re gonna make me throw up again, Mingi...”

Wooyoung ♡:

• Omgomgomg it’s my favorite gang member 😍 

• Disqusted

• Was woken up by you shaking his shoulder

• “Huh...?”

• Sat up from his side, then saw the huge puddle of puke in the center of the covers

• Was like “Dawg.... I loved this comforter 😞,” and took a moment of silence to weep on the inside

• Then he clowned you about it :D

• “Ewww, dude!” He whined, pushing your arm slightly and looked towards you, a shit-eating grin on his face as he waited for your reaction

• “I can’t help it, asshole!” 

• You were ready to rip his head off lol

• The auDACity of this wench 🙄💅🏽

• Teased you, yet still helped clean everything up

• Two-faced ass

• Be’d make fun of the situation a lil bit, but he understands :)

Jongho ♡:

• Ah, he looks so soft in this gif UwU

• No judging from bb

• He understands you’re not feeling good, and that’s ok ;(

• So when he opens his eyes at the sound of you know, BLAKBURGHWHAGABLEGH 🤮, he’s already figured that you got sick

• You’re next to the bedroom door, holding onto the wall for leverage and clutching at your stomach, still shaking from the sudden action

• “Uh-oh, did you throw up?” He mumbles as he slides off the bed and makes his ways towards you, rubbing his eyes

• “Yeah...”

• “Go sit near the toilet for a bit just in case more comes, I can clean this up”

• You sigh and frown, appreciating the offer but not wanting your boyfriend to fix a mess that you made. Especially a gross one.

• “Jongho, you don’t have to...”

• He presses a kiss to your forehead and doesn’t answer, instead, placing his hands on your hips as he pushes you out the door and to the bathroom before heading to the kitchen

• “You don’t need to worry about me, just make sure you’re ok”

• The absolute sweetest ;((

[pinktwingirl]

The New Recruit: Oneshot

Hey guys! I got a request from @oh-its-jennyyy for this Squirrel Girl oneshot that takes place during Civil War, so here ya go! Hope you like it!

              Bucky and Sam were confused.

              Steve had insisted on going to Manhattan, even though he knew it would blow his cover. Now that word had gotten out that Bucky had allegedly bombed the U.N. (even though Steve knew that was false), and Steve had helped him escape, the whole world seemed to be on a manhunt for the trio.

              “You want to go into Manhattan? The center of New York City?” Sam had asked. “That’s not really keeping a low profile…”

              “Trust me; this’ll be worth our while,” was all Steve said in response.

              Now, the group found themselves outside a small apartment building as cars sped down the street behind them. Even though Bucky had his face mostly covered – sunglasses, a large hat, the works – he still felt a rush of anxiety every time someone passed him on the street.

              “Steve, what are we doing here?” he asked.

              “You’ll see.”

              The group made their way up the stairs, until they stopped at a door on the third floor. Steve knocked, and they heard a soft meow from inside the door.

              “Coming!” a young woman called from inside. “Mew, get out of there!”

              Bucky and Sam were surprised to see the girl that greeted them when the door opened. She was small – couldn’t have been any more than 5’ 3’’ – and had mousy red hair tied together in a simple braid. To their confusion, the girl looked just as surprised to see them.

              “I didn’t think you’d be coming here in person…” she said.

              “I didn’t want to discuss details over the phone,” Steve responded.

              “You need to get in here, now.” The girl ushered the men into the tiny living room, where she had them sit down on the couch. “You’re lucky my roommate’s not home.”

              “You didn’t say you had a roommate,” Steve protested.

              “I’m a college student! What did you expect?” Doreen turned to Bucky and Sam. “I was wondering when I’d be meeting you guys. My name’s Doreen Green.” She paused and dropped the sweatshirt that was wrapped around her waist to the floor. “Guess I won’t be needing this anymore…”

              If Sam hadn’t joined a team of Asgardian space gods and an 8-foot-tall green rage machine, he might’ve been surprised by the revelation that the girl had a tail attached to her. Instead, he just found himself with more questions.

              “So…” he got out. “Are we allowed to ask what’s going on now, or…?”

              “This girl is a mutant,” Steve explained. “She has altered DNA. She’s half-squirrel.”

              “48.2% squirrel, to be precise,” Doreen corrected.

              “She’s been fighting crime in New York under the alias ‘Squirrel Girl,’” Steve continued. “I want to recruit her to our team.”

              “’Squirrel Girl’?” Bucky said. A part of him wanted to laugh, but he stopped himself out of fear of offending the girl.

              “Are you sure this is a good idea, Steve?” Sam asked. He turned to Doreen. “This isn’t just some training exercise; we’re going up against the rest of the Avengers. This could get ugly. Not to mention the legal consequences of the whole thing.”

              “I’ve been keeping my identity a secret, so I’m not too worried about the law,” Doreen explained. “Even if I do get caught, they’ll be going after Squirrel Girl, not Doreen Green.”

              “She’s capable; trust me,” Steve assured them. “I’ve seen her in action once before. She’s never failed a job, never gotten any bystanders hurt. She can do this.”

              “Steve told me about the whole situation with you, Bucky,” Doreen added. “I don’t believe you’re the person everyone says you are. And… I know that the Sokovia Accords are wrong. It’s not fair that you all have to be put under surveillance all the time just because you have abilities.” She let out a bit of a weak laugh. “Trust me, I know… I want to help you. Just tell me what I have to do.”

                                                     …

                The jet ride to Germany couldn’t have been more exhausting. Doreen had virtually spent the entire 8 hours enthusing about different types of squirrels (particularly the rare Japanese flying squirrel.) Normally, Bucky might’ve found her enthusiasm and chipper attitude endearing, but given the circumstances, he only found it irritating. He and Sam had taken the time to watch some surveillance footage of her in action, and while she was certainly an impressive fighter, what they saw wasn’t enough to convince them that she was right for the job.

              “Are you sure about this, Steve?” Bucky had asked. “This girl is going to get herself killed.”

              “Trust me on this, Buck,” Steve replied. “I know what I’m doing.”

              In Germany, the group met up with the other Avengers Steve had called for help – Scott, Wanda, and Clint. While Scott tried not to fanboy over meeting the Captain America, Wanda was surprised at the firm, eager handshake she received from Doreen.

              “Ooh! You’re Wanda Maximoff!” Doreen squealed. “I saw you using your powers and stuff on TV! They’re so cool! I’ve always wanted to see them in person!” She gently cupped her pet squirrel, Tippy-Toe in her hands. “Could you levitate Tippy-Toe? I mean… You know… If it’s alright with you?”

              “Oh… sure,” Wanda said, a bit embarrassed by the praise. After Lagos, it was jarring to hear someone talk about her powers like they weren’t a public menace.

              With a red haze, the squirrel began to rise until she was floating in the air. Tippy-Toe let out a few surprised squeaks before growing more comfortable with the idea, stretch out her paws as if she really were flying. Doreen and Wanda laughed as Wanda moved the squirrel around in circles.

              Doreen giggled. “Now you really are a flying squirrel, Tippy!”

              Wanda gently set the squirrel back down in her hands.

              “That was amazing!” Doreen exclaimed. “How did you learn to, you know, control it and stuff?”

              “It… took a lot of practice. Sometimes, I’m still not sure I even can control it fully.” Wanda paused, looking almost timid. “So… you really do like my powers? I mean… you don’t think they’re… dangerous, or… strange?”

              “No way! You wanna talk “strange”? Look at me! I’ve got a squirrel’s tail growing out of my ass! You shouldn’t have to feel ashamed of what you can do! It’s what makes you unique! There’s nobody else like you in the world!”

              Wanda smiled. She could tell she was going to like this girl.

                                                       …

                Doreen hadn’t realized how nervous she was until the airport battle had begun. All that time spent admiring the Avengers on TV, wishing she could one day join them… and here she was, facing off with half of them.

              Iron Man had flown over one of the towers, when she used her enhanced muscle strength to pounce on him, along with several of her squirrels, who were busy taking apart his armor.

              “What the…?!” Tony sputtered.

              “Sorry about this!” Doreen shouted. “Just wanted you to know I’m still a big fan even though you’re being kind of a jerk right now!”

              Bucky and Sam were having their own problems. Much to their dismay (and utter bafflement), the kid Tony brought along was actually holding his own in the fight and could even shoot spiderwebs out of his hand. Bucky didn’t know whether to be impressed or embarrassed at the fact that this boy, who couldn’t have been more than 15, was able to block his metal arm in a punch.

              “Whoa! You have a metal arm?” the kid enthused. “Dude, that is awesome!”

              Sam was growing more irritated by the second. This kid was getting on his nerves, and he just wanted him to shut up. And you know what? If that meant beating up a 14-year-old, then so be it.

              He tried firing redwing off to haul the kid away, but he just used his spiderwebs to take it down.

              “Okay…” Sam grumbled. “We’re running out of options, here.”

              Just then, Doreen appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Much to their amazement, she jumped a whole 20 feet off the ground to tackle the kid to the ground.

              “Sorry about this!” she shouted. “I don’t wanna hurt you, but I kinda need you to stop now!”

              With a clench of her hand, spikes of bone shot out of her knuckles. Working fast, she used the blades to cut away the kid’s web-shooters.

              “Aw, man!” he shouted.

              Doreen whistled, and a crowd of about 100 squirrels dragged the kid away.

              “Hey, I’m sure you can always make more!” she said. “And in the future, remember not to mess with your friendly neighborhood Squirrel Girl!”

              “Friendly neighborhood?! Hey! That’s my line!”

              Bucky and Sam exchanged a smile. Maybe they had underestimated this girl after all.