#grumpy little piss baby!!!!!

[mo-ok]

🚨🚨🚨 edgelord teenage son of big bad alert 🚨🚨🚨

[batgeance]

for real how often does bruce recreate the "i'm a wittle baby. i'm just a baby, i don't have any money!" tiktok on arthur while they're out.

bruce with his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders when the bill comes around, just. don't look at me i'm just a baby!

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.

Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.

"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"

He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."

"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."

"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.

"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."

He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.

"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.

Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.

You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.

He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.

[vivwritesfics]

Hi!! Can you please do one where y/n has been feeling really sick but doesn’t tell lando about it bc he’s been stressed at work and stuff. She ends up kind of being antisocial and rotting in bed bc of her sickness and lando ends up suggesting a break since she doesn’t seem to suit his lifestyle anymore. Y/n ends up running into landos mom at the dr office for a checkup where she finds out she’s pregnant. She asks Cisca to keep it a secret but she ofc tells lando she saw y/n at the dr office. Ending however you want! Thank youuuu

changed slightly buuuuut i like it

Warnings: hospitals, vivi knowing nothing about hospitals

She was sick of everything. Not because she was literally sick of everything, but she was feeling hot and bothered, generally shitty, and her head fucking killed.

Everybody was pissing her off. Her co-workers, her boss. That random guy on the bus that was breathing just a little bit too loud. He noticed her glaring, but went right back to breathing just as loudly.

The minute she got into the apartment, she sagged. She checked the keys on the hook, except no keys were there. It was a little bit of a relief that her boyfriend wasn't home at that minute; there was no telling her close she would have been to snapping at him.

She crawled under the bedsheets, never to emerge again...

Except no because Lando wasn't going to let her rot in bed. When he got home that night, she explained it to him, explained that he was feeling so shitty. Immediately he'd gotten her pain killers, water, and toast.

After four days of her just rotting in their bed, Lando was sick of it. Well, not sick of it, but he was worried. Incredibly worried.

He sat by her bedside and brushed her hair away from her forehead. "I'm begging you to go to the hospital baby," he said and squeezed her hand. "Please."

She stared at him, looking positively grumpy. "I'm fine, Lan," she assured him as she sat up. "I'm gonna go into work tomorrow, I promise."

He released a sigh, but he trusted her. If she said she was fine, then she's fine.

"Keep me updated when I'm racing, please," he said and she agreed.

And she did go into work the next day, but she felt so fucking shitty. She had no choice but to go to the hospital.

Fucking hospitals, she hated them. Sitting there anxiously as she waited to be called into the doctors office. Her knee bounced and she kept her arms wrapped around her midsection, staring down at the floor.

But then she was called into the doctors office. Her steps were quicks as she rushed forward.

"Well, miss L/N," he said as he looked at the results from her bloodwork. "Congratulations, mom!" He pushed the results towards her.

With shaking hands, she picked up the paper and looked at it. Her information, stuff that was too much for her brain to read, and then the results. Yep, she was pregnant. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No. No, no, no."

Tears sprung to her eyes as she put the paper back onto the doctors desk. "I-I need to call my mother in law."

No, she couldn't call Lando. Not while he was racing, not while he was on the other side of the world. It would just worry him while he couldn't get to her. So, instead, she called her future mother in law.

Cisca Norris arrived at the hospital as soon as she could. She found her in the waiting room, where she had been stopping herself from freaking out. But her nails were digging into her palms, leaving little crescent shapes in her skin. "Oh, darling," Cisca said as she pulled her to her feet.

As soon as they got outside, she was in tears, barely able to keep herself standing. But Cisca got her into the car and calmed her down. She talked her through it, got her to the point where she was no longer crying.

"I think you should tell Lando," Cisca said, and she immediately shook her head.

"No, Cisca, I can't! I can't, I can't, I can't." It took everything in her to not break down into tears.

But Cisca just squeezed her hands. "You can do this." She waited for a confirming nod before she called Lando.

His voice came loud and clear through the car. "Hey mum," he said, seemingly without a care in the world.

She sucked in a breath. "Lan?" She squeezed.

"Baby?" He couldn't hide the concern in his voice.

Her entire body shook as she squeezed her eye shut. "Lando, you're gonna be a dad."

She was so quiet, it wasn't clear whether Lando had heard it or not. The slight pause he took didn't help. But then, "Holy shit! I'm gonna be a fucking dad! Let's go!"

[softspiderling]

chaotic (and a little silly) pogue reader who never fails to surprise rafe with her dumbass hot takes, even like a year into the relationship.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

sometimes you get extremely specific cravings and immediately have to get them. you wake up fairly early in the morning, rafe's arms around your waist, pressed into your back, his breath tickling your neck as he sleeps.

"rafe"

no reaction.

"rafe."

you pinch his bicep and he groans, burrowing even deeper into your side.

"sleeping. 's too early."

"i'm hungry"

"let me sleep in and i'll buy you anything you want for breakfast.... later."

“i don’t need you to buy me anything,” you insist, wriggling in his arms, “i just need you to let go of me so i can get out of bed and get some soup.”

rafe groans again, not loosening his grip around you and you start to think that he fell asleep again, before he lets go of you, huffing and puffing. you press a kiss to his cheek, before you get out of bed.

“can’t even sleep in peace” you hear rafe mutter as you pad to the bathroom to go do your morning business, before heading to the kitchen downstairs.

it doesn’t take long for rafe to get up again, not having been able to get back to sleep now that you’re gone. he’s also not sure if he heard you correctly, wanting soup for breakfast, but figures that he probably dreamt it. after taking a piss and brushing his teeth, he goes downstairs, hearing you tinkering in the kitchen. you’re sitting on the counter, knees up to your chest as you are eating out of your bowl.

“morning baby,” he sighs, kissing your head with a smack and going to make himself a coffee.

“morning grumpy”

rafe rolls his eyes, turning the espresso machine on, before he pauses, turning back to you.

“… did you say you wanted soup for breakfast?”

“I did,” you answer, pouring some more cereal out of the box into your bowl. “i am.”

rafe stares at you, a little slow. he hasn’t had his coffee yet. “what?”

“cereal… breakfast soup.” you continue on, unperturbed, as if you just haven’t said the most insane thing rafe’s ever heard.

“you’re eating cereal,” rafe repeats. “cereal’s not soup”

you lift your head, a frown on your forehead. “cereal is soup. it’s a liquid dish and you eat it with a spoon”

rafe blinks, because you’re definitely not right, but somehow you’re also not wrong, and he’s not quite sure what to say, so he just sighs and turns back to his espresso machine. as the ground coffee falls into the portafilter, he runs a hand over his head, turning to you over with shoulder with narrowed eyes.

“you should hang out less with jj, i feel like he’s starting to rub off on you, and i’m not sure if i like that.”

you only snort into your soup.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[4unnyr0se]

❥ being satoru gojo's sugar baby

warnings: rich asf gojo, reader is a bitch in the first part, fem! reader, lingerie, riding, cunnilingus, doggystyle, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, gojo hates stupid people, not proofread, reader gets so spoiled, spanking, asphyxiation

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 1.6k

Being Satoru fucking Gojo wasn’t easy. Being handsome, rich, and popular with the ladies? Talk about a workout. He had so much money he didn’t know what to do with it all. It’s only the result of being fucking brilliant at business practices, always knowing when to strike a perfect deal. And that bore the fruit of luxury cars, Italian jackets, and beautiful women aplenty. Gojo liked fucking the pretty girls he met in the clubs, sure. They were good for a decent cock-sucking, their expensive lipstick always forming a nice little ring around his dick. Poor things, it was probably the only nice lipstick they owned. Gojo felt bad for them in a way, they would never know what it was like to be spoiled by a man such as himself. They were so fucking fake, expecting to be spoiled just for having a decent pussy to fuck. Don’t get him wrong, Gojo liked fucking the college girls he met in the clubs, but he wanted something that was real. He wanted a good girl to spend his infinite cashflow on, not a whore who didn’t know what a fucking tax bracket was. 

He met you at his usual club, not recognizing your face from behind the bar. Hm, you must have been new there, Gojo would never ignore a pretty face like that, even though you were so grumpy looking. Did you hate your job like he hated bimbos? Gojo wasted no time in sitting himself down in your section of the bar counter, ordering a shot of the most expensive vodka the club offered. You called him an asshole and Gojo could have proposed right then and there. 

Gojo attended the club every night, sitting at the exact same spot and ordering a different, expensive drink each time. He noticed how you softly smiled when he told the local club bimbos to piss off, no doubt enjoying him shooing away drunken, stupid girls. Eventually you finally caved and gave him your number, resulting in him giving you a kiss on the back of your hand like a prince would.

Every day he would call you, text you, ask about your day. Did anyone give you trouble at the club? If it was a shitty coworker of yours, Gojo would have them fired. It didn’t matter if he didn’t own the club, he was half of the club’s monthly revenue. Gojo could do whatever the hell he wanted, he was practically paying everyone's salaries. His texts brightened your day, along with his visits to the club when you worked long evening shifts. He had stopped ordering drinks altogether, just slipping you a healthy $300 every hour or two. You had refused at first, but Gojo had this really annoying habit of being able to convince anyone of anything. It got to a point where you just held out your hand for the money at the start of every hour, which made his cock throb with desire. You were growing accustom to being spoiled and he fucking loved that. You were spoiled without being stupid, that was so fucking sexy to him.

One night, after a very annoying shift, you invited him to visit your crappy apartment downtown. Gojo jumped at the opportunity and practically threw you into his Bently, no doubt breaking a couple of traffic laws to make it to your place in record time. It was so humbling, your apartment. There were cracks in the fall and the faucet had the most annoying drip, this would absolutely not do. You deserved to live in a fucking castle in the sky, not in this shithole.

Gojo bought you a townhouse a stone's throw away from his penthouse. You protested and groaned at him not to, claiming you weren’t worth it. Gojo quickly shut you up with a passionate and longing kiss, whispering against your plush lips that he would buy you the moon and the stars. After that, you really couldn’t complain. Everything was paid off for the fifty-year lease that Gojo had signed; he was so disgustingly rich. Why did you have to go back to working at that sleazy club? Oh, right, you had to afford to eat and shop. Don’t worry; Gojo gave you a ridiculously large sum of money every week to buy whatever the hell you wanted, sending you more money if you run out. You only spend a couple of hundred dollars a week on groceries, but then there was this stunning vintage Dior dress in a shop window, and you simply had to have it. You sent Gojo a picture that displayed the price tag, and he swore he came in his pants. Fuck, you looked amazing wearing designer dresses. And you were modeling for him; he wanted to marry you so badly.

You bought lingerie one time, lacy and black, and so fucking expensive. Garters and stockings and the works, a gorgeous French design. Gojo just about lost his mind when he saw that photo you sent, driving over to your townhouse as soon as he had an opening. He tackled you in a passionate and longing kiss, ripping off the lingerie with his hands. Whatever, he’d buy you another set. No, twenty more sets.

His lips trailed across your body, leaving searing, hot kisses in their wake. You were covered in Gojo’s bites and bruises, looking like an ancient Greek sculpture. Gojo fucked you right on the floor of your living room, not bothering to carry you up the flight of stairs to your bed. You just looked so good in the lingerie you purchased with his money. His money, his lingerie, his sugar baby. Your sobbing pussy was squeezing his massive fucking cock, sucking him into you like a vortex. Your manicured fingernails left angry crescent-shaped prints on his back, his Italian jacket, and other expensive clothes long forgotten about in a pile next to the door. His cock slammed into you over and over again, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you were screaming his name, swearing you were gonna cum all over his cock. Gojo fucking loved hearing your moans; they sounded so expensive when his ringed fingers were wrapped around your throat, squeezing it ever so gently. He moaned into your ear as your orgasm washed over you once more, the third one in the hour. He still wasn’t finished, oh no. He had you folded into a mating press, begging and whining to be cummed in by one of the wealthiest men in the world. And who was he to deny his princess? Gojo shot himself deep inside of you, painting your womb with his seed. It looked so pretty seeping out of who; he just had to take a picture. You wouldn’t mind, right? He’d just give you another five grand for a few more dresses. 

Oh, even his aftercare was expensive. Running you a bath infused with freshly-pressed lavender and rose oil, soaking into your skin beautifully. Your fucked-out face was flush from the steam in the bathroom, making your already perfect skin so smooth. Gojo never wanted to stop touching you, not for a moment. He wrapped you in your Egyptian cotton sheets and held you tightly in his arms, thanking you for being his baby. As he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his precious baby’s ear, you drifted off.

After that perfect night, Gojo basically lived in your luxury townhouse. He would be there when you opened your eyes and when you closed them. There to take you out on romantic restaurant dates and feed you the highest quality sushi there was. He was there to buy half the fucking boutique if you wanted him to. Those dresses were too pretty for anyone else to wear besides you. You no longer protested when he bought you stuff, only kissing his chest while humming a thank you in his ear. The expensive lipstick you wore stained his cheek, not that he minded one bit.

Apart from the expensive gifts, dates, and other such things, Gojo loved fucking you. You modeled every single set of lingerie he wanted you to, especially black and blue sets. He loved your little fashion shows, the way you would always sit on his lap and grind down on his thigh, your arousal soaking the delicate fabrics. His hand would slap your ass, commanding you cum on his thigh and ruin your panties. He’d fuck you face down ass up with an expensive vibrator on your puffy clit, smirking sadistically as you sobbed that it was too much, you couldn’t take it. He’d make you ride him in his home office, making sure his video camera was always off during meetings so no one except for him could see that pretty ass bouncing up and down on his cock, milking it for all it was worth. He’d demand you sit on his face, not letting you off until he had his fill, your cum covering his mouth and face. Gojo would command you to lick it off him, hands squeezing your waist, and was adorned with a leather garter belt.

God, he wanted to breed you. He never wanted to use protection, which you objected to at first. But he whined and pleaded, claiming it would only be once. Well, once turned into always. He always came inside of you multiple times a day. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure that he had fucked his cum inside of your pussy, sticking a finger inside just to make sure it was still there. He would babble on about how you two would have the most perfect wedding and have such cute babies, how he would take care of you. You would be so pretty, all swollen with his child. 

Satoru Gojo took care of you from the moment the two of you met, your companionship being the most valuable asset he had. To him, you were the most precious thing, and he would take care of you until the day that he died.

[euthymiya]

disease ridden (not) — ft. ryomen sukuna

yuuji may or may not have gotten his uncle sick with the flu, but you don’t really seem to mind having two sick boys to baby at the same time

before you read: fem reader ; non curse au/modern au ; established relationship ; uncle sukuna and nephew yuuji ; grumpy sick sukuna and sleepy sick baby yuuji <3

notes: read more unckuna and bbyuuji here and here!

Yuuji’s pre school is fighting flu season. Which means that one by one, tiny, sniffly noses are dropped off onto the premises despite parents being properly warned by teachers not to let sick children come to school.

(Parents never listen, anyway—they’re stubborn and difficult sometimes. Not missing a day of school is just far more important than ensuring the health of other’s. Who cares if their kid spreads germs if perfect their attendance is maintained, right?)

It’s not surprising that eventually, Yuuji starts his own round of sniffling (it’s inevitable), but you didn’t expect the same from Sukuna, either.

He’s…not happy to say the least.

“This is why I hate when you let that brat come over so much,” a nasally voice grunts at you, groaning as he tosses and turns in the sheets, trying to get comfortable. “Now he’s out here bringin’ diseases.”

“They’re not diseases,” you say exasperatedly, “it’s just a common flu.”

You like to think that Sukuna is kind of cute when he’s sick. (You don’t tell him that, of course—you enjoy keeping him as less grumpy as possible. It’s good for your mental health.) But he pulls at your heartstrings a bit more when he’s under the weather.

His cheeks are flushed, his nose is red, his hair is messier, he’s a tad bit whiny even if he doesn’t realize it, and his voice is less gruff and deep when he’s all congested.

He’s cute.

You don’t like for your boyfriend to be sick, but if there are a few benefits…well, it’s not like you mind having them for the time being.

“Yeah so a fuckin’ disease,” he snaps, grabbing the pillow from under him and chucking it across the room when he finally loses his temper at not being able to get comfortable. “As if the kid isn’t a disease himself—now he’s spreadin’ ‘em, too.”

You laugh, earning a massive glare from him as he lays propped up on his elbows, grumpier by the second. Finally, having a little mercy, you hold your arms out.

“Come here, you big baby,” you giggle.

“Stay away from me,” he grunts. Still, he doesn’t exactly fight it when your arms wrap around him and bring him to lay against your chest, and if he nuzzles a bit into you, he expects you not to voice it.

You’ve already caused him enough issues, as is.

“You’re extra grumpy when you’re sick,” you murmur, stroking back the messy bed hair as your fingers weave into his locks and scratch away at his scalp. “You’d think being sick would quiet you down for once, but I guess not.”

“I’m not fuckin’ grumpy,” he clicks his teeth, “I’m rightfully pissed because the runt couldn’t keep his boogers to himself. And why am I the one who’s sick and not you, anyway? He’s always attached to your hip.”

“Because I’m nice and karma has a way of biting back assholes,” you giggle, poking the tip of his flushed nose as he huffs. He snaps his jaw at you to pretend to bite at your finger as you squeal.

Finally, as though exhaustion has weathered away at his temper, he collapses against your chest, muttering under his breath about the unfairness of it all as he gets comfortable against you.

It’s infinitely better to lay on your tits than that stupid pillow—and he might have even teased you about it, too, but he doesn’t want to risk being shoved off now that he’s finally situated himself in an actually nice position.

Sick Sukuna is also a much less obnoxious Sukuna. You kind of like it when he mellows out a bit from being so tired.

“Where is the brat anyway?” He raises a brow after a few moments.

“Sleeping in the other room,” you hum, smiling fondly at the thought of Yuuji. Sukuna’s nose wrinkles in irritation. “I put him down for a nap.”

“Good. He better stay there.”

As if right on cue, a tired, sleepy Yuuji shows up at your door, rubbing his eyes as his hoarse little voice mumbles, “uncle Kuna?”

“Dear god,” Sukuna groans, making you snort as you gesture Yuuji over, slapping at your boyfriend’s shoulder lightly when he gives you an incredulous look. “You can’t just invite him in here after he got me sick—”

“Come here, Yuuji! Did you nap okay?”

“Uh huh,” the small boy nods, making you smile warmly.

Sukuna doesn’t like it. There’s no way you can properly split your attention between two sick people, and Yuuji is going to have to just accept the Sukuna was here first. Literally. He was here walking this god forsaken planet long before Yuuji was born, and he was here stealing your attention way before Yuuji came around, too.

There’s no compromising on this—you’re Sukuna’s, and Yuuji is going to have to learn that one way or another.

And then, as if testing his uncle’s patience more than he already does, the brat climbs right onto Sukuna and lays over his chest. You watch in amusement as a purely bewildered expression stretches across Sukuna’s face.

“What’s he doing?” He looks up at you incredulously, gesturing at the child curled against his bare chest. You giggle as you roll your eyes.

“He’s cuddling you, of course.”

“What? No. Get him off this instant.”

“I’m not doing that,” you gasp, glaring at a pair of eyes that glare back equally as intensely, “look at him! He’s gone right back to sleep, you can’t disturb him when he’s resting.”

“What about me? I’m resting too,” he hisses. You hum, pulling the covers over the three of you, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as if that’ll calm him. (It does.)

“You’re resting too,” you nod in agreement, wrapping your arms tighter around him as you pull him closer into your chest. One hand finds his hair, curling the strands around your fingers as he groans exasperatedly. “There’s plenty of room for both of you to rest.”

“I hope you get the diseases next time,” he mutters quietly. (He doesn’t mean it—he’d get sick in your place next time too, if he could.) His arm curls around Yuuji to keep him secure, eyes darting to narrow in your direction when you let out a tiny aw. “It’s just so he doesn’t slide off and wake me to get back on. Don’t get over your head.”

“Right,” you snort, “of course.”

“You think I’m lying? Because—”

You cut him off with a small kiss to his lips. Brief and gentle—and yeah, maybe you’ll risk getting sick yourself from that, but you can’t resist. Not when Sukuna looks so soft and sweet with a tiny body curled in his arm.

“You should sleep,” you murmur, stroking through his hair, “you’ll feel better. And then you won’t have diseases.”

“I don’t have fuckin’ diseases!”

Sick sukuna is soooo cute I just know it. Naps on your chest 24/7 and then acts like you dragged him there against his will

[babyleostuff]

call me back

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k

. . . fighting with you is never easy for hoshi. especially not when an ocean is separating you

was fighting over the last piece of cake stupid and immature? yes. did it feel like hoshi’s whole world was about to collapse when he noticed you ate it? double yes. while your boyfriend wasn’t known for his great patience and non-existent anger issues, he never took his anger out on you, no matter how frustrated and annoyed he was.

well - until last week. 

hoshi came home tired and very, very hungry, nothing out of the ordinary, though you could clearly see he was a lot more agitated than usual, so you did what you always did when he came back exhausted like that - gave him space. you were just about to start your nighttime routine when you heard your name being yelled from the kitchen, and not in a happy “baby, my love, my darling, please come hereeee” kind of way. 

you didn’t even get a chance to take a breath as you entered the kitchen, coming face to face with soonyoung and his angry pout. “where the fuck is my cake?” he asked, and now, a week later, his words were still echoing through his head. 

it was never his intention to lash out at you like that. obviously. he was tired, and hungry, his muscles were aching, he felt like a bad boyfriend for spending so little time with you, and he forgot to buy a gift for his mom's birthday - not that it mattered, nothing could excuse him for being so mean to you. to make matters worse, instead of acting like a man and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, he chickened out and just left. 

“man, why don’t you just don’t call her and apologise?” woozi sighed, throwing his head back because it had to be the tenth time he had to listen to hoshi’s story of how he decided to act like the biggest dick over an overpriced piece of a strawberry cake. 

“i did but she’s not answering.” 

“no shit, i wouldn’t have answered either.” 

and that exactly was the biggest problem - it was hard enough to go through a fight while he was home, but now that he was overseas, a thousand kilometres away from you it was impossible. yes, he could send you flowers and shit, but it would only piss you off even more. there was no way for him to show you how truly fucking sorry he was. 

“i know you’re angry with me right now, but please,” hoshi took in a shaky inhale. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so… sad. “please, just call me back,” that had to be the tenth voicemail he left you ever since he left home. 

you, on the other hand, weren’t doing much better. you felt like slapping the shit out of him that night in your apartment, and although you were able to control your sudden surge of violence, you didn’t hold back on cursing him out after he left. you even thought about burning his side of the closet but if you did that you’d lose all of your favourite hoodies and flannels, so you gave up on that too. 

after your short rage situation, you sat down at kitchen island, and stared at the empty plate where soonyoung’s cake was supposed to be. how were you supposed to know he’d act like that over a cake? obviously you wouldn’t have eaten it then. you figured your boyfriend must’ve had a really bad day at the rehearsals. the past couple of days were really harsh on him, and if you could you’d wrap him in bubble wrap, a couple of blankets, and cuddle the shit out of him for being so strong through all of this. 

all of those excuses for him and still - you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his calls and texts, no matter how much listening to his voicemails broke your heart. 

“so, um, i know we’re not talking but i’m just calling to tell you good morning. remember to eat, and um, have a great day, baby.” 

the boys were slowly losing their patience too (seungcheol asked mingaho if he could share some of his calming tea) because a grumpy hoshi was never a fun hoshi, plus - they hated seeing their best friend constantly beating himself over your fight. there was something lacking without their performance team leader’s spark. 

“should we just call her?” mingyu looked over at soonyoung, who was sitting by himself in the corner of the room. “he looks pathetic, moping around like that,” he snorted. 

seungcheol groaned, banging his head on jeonghan's shoulder. as they started to get older he started to feel less like a leader but more like a therapist (he really thought about resigning the day seungkwan came whining about a love triangle he got himself into). “they are adults, they should figure it out between themselves.” 

“oh come on, do we have to remind you what we had to do for you when you forgot about your girlfriend's birthday so she would forgive you?” mingyu snickered, and pulled out his phone. 

you didn’t know what to expect when you saw mingyu’s picture flash over your phone screen. it definitely had something to do with your boyfriend, that much you gathered, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what he had to say. your boyfriend’s words really hurt you, and no matter how much you wanted to forgive him, you weren’t sure you could do it yet. 

eventually, you clicked on the green button with a shaky finger. “yes?” you took a deep inhale and prepared yourself for whatever you were about to hear. 

“okay, so you know exactly why i’m calling. your boyfriend looks like a kicked puppy, he stopped saying horanghae, he’s dressed all in black and he looks like he drank an entire bottle of soju. i mean, don't worry, he didn't do it because he would be reeling now, but you get what i mean. whatever happened between the two of you, give us back our hoshi."

"well, that was very tactful," you heard coups' voice in the background.

“can you shut up for one second?” 

“no, in fact i can’t.” 

“okay, boys, i don’t want to interrupt whatever is going on, but i really need to know if he’s doing as bad as you're saying.” 

“bad” didn’t even come close to what hoshi was feeling. at this point he was so angry and frustrated at himself for acting like he acted, that seriously had to be one of his lowest points of his life achievements. now you were going to dump him, and he’d have to drown himself in soju, and grow a beard, and write a sad love song that he’d hear at the radio for the rest of his life, and-

there was no way you were calling him right now. and yet, “h-hello? babe?” 

“no, the fucking pope,” he’d have to add a cabin in the woods to his list of what he’d do after you’d break up with him. “kwoon soonyoung, you have to be one of the most insufferable, impatient and immature people i know. all this because of a piece of cake? do you hear how childish that sounds?"

loud and clear, honey. 

“that’s why i didn’t apologise in the first place. i immediately realised how fucking stupid i acted, and felt so ashamed of saying all of those awful things to you, and so i just left.” 

you sighed defeated. you kind of anticipated him saying that - your boyfriend had a habit of doing things before thinking them over, and as much as you understood him being exhausted and overworked, you still couldn’t forget how small he made you feel that night. 

“look, i really don’t want to fight, being away from you is hard enough, but…,” you ran a hand over your face. what were you supposed to do? you spent the last three nights on the couch because you couldn’t fall asleep in your shared bed, and there were so many times when you wanted to text him about the most unserious things that only he’d get, but you just couldn’t. “your words really hurt me.” 

“i know, shit, i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. whatever i’ll say it won’t be enough, i should’ve apologised right away. fuck, your boyfriend is such a loser,” you heard him laugh, but it was not the usual soonyoung laugh that made the flowers bloom, and sun shine. “i understand if you want to take a break.” 

“that’s the thing, i don’t want to take any breaks. i miss you so much. i miss talking to you every night, i miss our silly conversations, i miss getting my daily hoshi boyfriend pics. i’m sick of seeing your face on twitter and not over face time,” you pulled the sleeve of his sweater over your hand, like it would make you feel any closer to him. “let’s take it slow, maybe?”

you could swear you heard soonyoung exhale, “yes, yes, let’s do that. whatever you need, babe,” he said immediately. “my poor baby must’ve been so nervous.” 

“i love you, you know,” you whispered. there was no point in making things worse and pretending that you didn't miss him, and even though it would probably be a while before everything went back to normal, you didn't want him to doubt whether you still loved him as much as you did before.

“i love you too. very much,” he whispered back, finally sounding a bit happier. “and baby? thank you for calling me back.

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[inuyashaluver]

camp birthday - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which leah hates her birthday, especially when she's on camp and you're not here

warnings: short and sweet, little swearing

a/n: this came to me randomly so please enjoy!!!!! love you alllll, if you see errors - i’m sick, don’t bully me

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if there was one thing your girlfriend hated with a burning passion, it was being separated from you. this girl was head. over. heels. in. love. with. you.

leah williamson didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with the same person repeatedly, but there you were, proving her wrong in every way possible, she was infatuated with you.

it was incredibly rare to see you and leah separated, the only times you were was leah’s least favourite time, national camp.

—

you and leah met on the pitch, an unexpected magnetic pull attracting you together before you both even had time to think.

that moment you and leah both saw each other at just 16 in the national youth teams, you for australia while leah was for england, you both knew you had to have each other. 

and something about leah, she’s determined, she is so determined that she usually gets what she wants and everyone usually ends up happy by the end of it. and luckily for you, you were the other part in the equation.

you and leah both managed to get signed to arsenal, and your relationship soared. all those awkward talks and pining finally resulted in you and leah dating, and it was a relationship you both couldn’t be more grateful for.

—

the return of leah to the pitch was always something you loved to brag about. leah worked incredibly hard to get to where she was, but she doesn’t think she would be able to get to where she was without you.

and with leah’s return, it meant you could both play for arsenal, you could both play for national team level, but that meant separation and leah really wasn't happy about THIS separation in particular.

—

“it’s fucking barbaric!” leah says from the bathroom, a little muffled as she was brushing her teeth. you sat on the bed, waiting for the girl to come out so you both could sleep.

“lee, baby, that’s a little dramatic” you chuckle, fiddling with the end of the shirt you were wearing. (leah’s) “baby, it is not dramatic, it’s ridiculous” she shouts, you could just see the furrow between her brows even though she was in the other room.

you giggle again, deciding to just get under the covers and wait for leah, the girl was on a hard rant, you scroll on your phone as you let your girlfriend ramble.

leah comes storming into the room, hastily ripping off her close while continuing her rant. “it’s stupid, babe! camp on MY birthday?” she scoffs, taking off her shirt harshly, “and you won’t even be there? i’m fucking pissed” she grumbles, putting on her clean shirt.

you smile at her brightly when the shirt makes it over her head, her hair slightly all over the place.  she can’t help the little grin playing on her lips when your eyes meet, you giggle, pulling the blanket over your head to hide yourself from your girlfriend.

after almost 4.5 years, you’re still shy around her, leah chuckles, she loved when you got like this, cute and smitten and completely in love, it still baffled her that you felt even remotely the same.

she rushes over and straddles your hips over the blanket, both of you laughing brightly as she poked your sides to tickle you. 

she rips the blanket away from your hands, both of you flustered at the proximity, she breathes out a soft laugh, kissing all over your face, eliciting more giggles out of you, her favourite sound in the whole world.

“why are you all smiley?” she smirks, kissing from your cheekbone to the corner of your lips, “you’re just sexy when you’re grumpy” you wink at her, her lips now gently making contact with yours.

she hums against your lips, your lips moving languidly together, “you’re sexy all the time” leah breathes out against you, her teeth gently biting your bottom lip and giving it a playful tug. 

“you okay now?” you smile at her, she moves down slightly, kissing gently over the top of your neck and chest, now lying on top of you with her chin resting on your chest. she blinks slowly as she looks at you, trying to memorise every feature on your face. 

“not really” she says earnestly, her hand sliding up your waist and gently resting there under your shirt. “baby, i know you’re upset, but your birthday will still be special” you attempt, carding your hand through the front of her hair, pushing it away from her face.

she closes her eyes at the gesture, this always calmed her down when she felt extremely stressed. she presses another kiss to your chest, moving her legs to rest against yours more comfortably.

she sighs heavily, her tongue prodding the side of her mouth, “my birthday isn't my birthday unless you're there” she pouts, you give her an exaggerated pout and it brings out a little giggle from her. 

“we can celebrate before we go on camp, and after” you attempt, leah sighs again but nods, at least you could soak up each other’s presence before you both had to leave.

she leans up again, cradling your cheek and pulling you into another kiss, “you’ve got a deal” she whispers, moving to hug you again tightly.

—

you and leah were more attached to each other and everyone noticed it, the arsenal girls loving to tease you both. “they’re in love, but enemies” beth snickers, you were currently sitting on the pitch with leah, your back pressed against her front with her arms wrapped tightly around you.

“they’re not enemies” steph chuckles, “they so are! when they play, they’re ruthless” kyra adds on, “you act like we can’t hear you!” leah narrows her eyes at them, laughing when you flipped them off with both hands. she kisses your cheek fondly, gently swaying you both from side to side.

everyone could tell this was going to be a little difficult for you both, you both haven't had a birthday separated from each other, and leah only loved her birthday because you loved her birthday and vice versa. 

—

the england girls were staying home for camp this year, and all the aussie girls were training in spain this time. when leah drove you to the airport, the tears glistening in her eyes were enough to break your heart.

standing outside the airport, she drew you into a tight embrace, her face smushed where your neck meets your shoulder. she kisses the skin there repeatedly, both of you tearing up at how tight you both were holding on. “don’t go” she mumbles,

you pull back to make her look at you, you reach your hand up to cup her face, your thumb brushing over her cheek gently as you smile at her. “four weeks” you say sadly, leah leans further into your hand, looking down at you with the saddest expression ever.

she nods glumly, clearly holding back the tears from you, “four weeks” she parrots, her hands squeezing your waist gently.

“i’ll call you when i land, okay?” you smile at her softly, wiping the tear about to roll down her cheek. she nods, pulling you in for a kiss, she pecks your lips repeatedly, not wanting to let you go.

you both exchange a quick ‘i love you’ before you wave her off, blowing her a big kiss that made her laugh, she returns it as she watches you leave, not moving until you were fully aside and she saw you with your teammates.

—

the amount of texts you received from the england girls was worrying, all of them exactly the same “she’s miserable”. her birthday was coming up in two days, you were feeling a little miserable too. everyone could tell, and so, your teammates created a plan.

both teams were conspiring with each other, leah’s birthday was on saturday, so it was planned. you would get the weekend off and would have the opportunity to go and surprise leah for her birthday.

you were elated with the news, and keeping it a secret from leah with your nightly calls was extremely hard. beth and steph were the main ones assisting, as beth was rooming with leah on this camp. beth was able to give you every little detail possible.

—

through careful planning, you flew back to england late friday night, by that time, leah was asleep. you booked a room in the same hotel leah was in.

you put up a happy birthday banner, blew up a bunch of balloons, you honestly felt light headed and made a heart of rose petals on the bed with presents in the middle. it would be ready by the time you both get back.

the surprise was simple: on saturday morning, you would be with the social media team to impersonate a staff member, you would be disguised and be filming the fist bump arrival videos.

the whole team was in on it, except for leah of course, they were all so excited you were here to finally perk up their captain.

—

and there you found yourself on saturday morning, completely disguised in lioness staff gear and a hat with glasses. you only sent leah a goodmorning text that she was not happy about one bit.

“why are you frowning at your phone so much?” georgia laughs, leah pushes her off as her arm came around her shoulder.

“(y/n) didn’t call me this morning” she shakes her head, refreshing her notifications again, surely you didn’t forget her birthday.

“she’ll call, leah” beth calls out, spotting you waiting on the top of the stairs. you hold the camera steadily in front of you, the other staff filming you for leah’s reaction. 

leah trudges up the stairs, smiling politely at every birthday wish passed her way from the other staff, you were buzzing with excitement.

you hold your fist out and leah smiles, clearly not recognising you yet, her skin touches yours and you smile brightly, “happy birthday, lee” leah stops in place and completely freezes.

everyone smiles from behind her, keeping a distance so you could have your moment, “you alright?” you chuckle, leah’s fist still pressed against yours, she just stares at you.

you sound like her girlfriend and she’s sure of it. you move your hand from her and take off your glasses, leah smiles brighter than you’ve ever seen it. ��oh my god!” she screams.

she rushes forward, hoisting you up in a bone crushing bug, your legs wrap around her waist and she can't help but cry, she holds on to you like you’ll disappear at any moment, you laugh brightly when your hat gets knocked off. “baby” she breathes out in disbelief, kissing the skin of your shoulder repeatedly. 

the team and staff smile so brightly, taking the camera off you so you can hug leah properly, and once they do, your arms wound tightly around her, kissing the crown of her head sweetly, tearing up yourself. no words were exchanged yet but it didn’t matter, so much was said.

“happy birthday, baby” you smile, cradling her face in your hands, she’s crying, hard. everyone left the two of you for a private moment, this was needed for both of you.

you wipe her tears off her cheeks, her eyes dart all over your face, she was in complete disbelief that you were in her arms right now.

“how?” she says tearfully, looking at you in complete awe, slowly letting you on the ground. “that’s a secret” you wink, kissing her cheek softly, she turns her head, kissing your lips instead.

a slow, loving and emotional kiss. her brain was hazy and confused but so relieved to see her favourite person in the world standing in front of her.

“i heard you were a little miserable” you teased against her lips, leah chuckles, her breath leaving a cold sensation on your mouth, “i heard the same with you, sleeping in my hoodie every night” she smirks, kissing the corner of your mouth sweetly.

“so were you” you grin, pinching her cheek, she shrugs proudly, “smells like you” you smile together, pulling her into another tight embrace. she melts into you, realising how much she depends on you to take all her stress away.

“how long do i have you?” she questions, moving back to hold you from your hips, her thumb brushing gently back and forth. “the weekend” you say cheekily, tucking her loose bangs behind her ear before resting your hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently.

“leah! you can snog later!” beth teases, “go” you laugh, kissing her quickly and ushering her off, she blows you a big kiss followed by a big grin as she runs towards the pitch.

—

you sit with the rest of the staff, helping them shoot content for a bit before just sitting and admiring your girlfriend.

every pass, every good thing she did, every attempt at a goal during training, she’d smile at you brightly, loving your cheeky smile you’d give her when you make eye contact. you sat on the floor cross legged, holding leah’s bottle with you so she didn’t have to look for it.

by the time training finished, she ran to you with a mischievous grin, tackling you to the floor by flopping down on top of you, relishing in the bright laugh you let out when she kissed your neck repeatedly. everyone laughed as they passed you, relieved to see the two of you so happy, a complete contrast to the weeks before.

she smiles above you, moving to sit in front of you as sarina does a team talk and a cool down, leah sits with her back to your front, leaning her head back on your shoulder. your arms wrap around her shoulders, kissing her cheek gently every couple of minutes, you really missed her.

“you better not be stealing this information, missy” leah whispers, her hand holding your arm, leaning down to kiss it. “i’m not!” you whisper back, jokingly biting her cheek, making her giggle as she leant further into you. 

—-

the look on leah’s face was priceless when you told her you had a room for the two of you was priceless. she basically ran to her room with beth to grab some overnight stuff with the biggest smile ever.

you cover her eyes as you walk her into the decorated room, “keep your eyes closed!” you plead, kissing her softly before moving to the middle of the room, a party popper in your hand.

“okay, open!” you smile, leah opens her eyes and you let the small party popper off, tiny bits of easy to clean confetti coming out.

leah smiles in disbelief, admiring you and all the hard work you've done. she laughs, grinning cheesily at you, heart eyes evident. you smile at her sheepishly, “happy birthday, lee baby” you cheer, holding your arms out as she walks into your embrace.

she pulls you into another deep kiss, holding your cheeks and kissing you with all her might, both of you running out of air from it. “you’re so fucking cute” she chuckles against your lips, pecking them a couple of times before moving to kiss all over your face.

“thank you so much” she mumbles on your temple, giving you a loving squeeze, “i told you your birthday will be special” you pull back to look at her.

“i kept my promise” you wink, she grins, nodding at you, “very special, i’m so happy you’re here” she says earnestly, one of her hands coming up to cradle your cheek again.

“could’ve just put a bow on your head and i would’ve been happy” she says cheekily, you laugh, “mhm, i could make that work” you chuckle, leaning up to kiss her, you push her to sit on the bed, taking the bow off one of her carefully wrapped presents and placing it on your head.

leah laughs brightly, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she took in your appearance, “im liking you in the lioness gear” she flirts, you roll your eyes amusingly, “in your fucking dreams, williamson” you laugh, coming over to kiss her again before she makes you both collapse on the bed.

—

you took her out for dinner that night, both of you unable to stop yourselves from smiling, you’d really missed each other, this was very much needed for both of you. you both had sunday off and chose to have a lazy day, cuddling and relaxing in bed and taking a sunset walk later on.

you flew back that night much to the dislike of leah but she relented, she’d see you in a week anyway. “bye, baby” you drag out, kissing her lips, she smiles against you, her hands on your lower back drawing you in closer. “see you on the pitch” she grins, you nod, letting her close the door of the taxi for you.

it was her favourite birthday to date, you had a lot to prove for the next one.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend its you! ily alexxxx

liked by alessia and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: a birthday to remember, i love you forever and always, my girl

view all comments

yourname: my baby! i love you

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i love you, baby girl

bethmead_: you went from moping to happy to moping

↳ leahwilliamsonn: piss off

↳ stephcatley: our girl did the same thing

↳ yourname: LEAVE US ALONE

[iluvloganhowlett]

I HATE YOU .𖥔 ݁ ˖

in which logan leaves for a mission unexpectedly for almost a year and still expects to be welcomed home upon return

warnings: angst, no happy ending (oops!), a little violence, mutant!reader, that’s it fr

reader has same powers as logan bc they were both experiments at the same time

i also switched up the timeline slightly so pretend logan isn’t a grumpy old man and is more so how he was in x-men (2000)

i also saw some other story that was kinda like this one but i couldn’t remember who’s it was so if anyb knows drop it so i can credit

part 2

“why are we here again?” wade questioned, stuffing a handful of cheetos he stole from a vending machine a while back.

logan only glared at him, “because. i left her for 9 months, the least i can do is come home and show her that im alive.”

wade shrugs, “who even is this ‘she?’ is she hot?”

in seconds, wade finds himself pinned against the wall of the hallway, logan’s claws only centimeters from his neck. “she’s my girl, you don’t get to talk about her being hot,” logan growls, retracting his claws and releasing wade.

“well damn wolvie! don’t get your panties in a bunch, im not stealing your girl! unless the charm is just too much for her then-“

“do you ever stop fucking talking outta your ass?”

wade only sighed, halting to a stop as logan did the same. “137,” logan muttered, looking up at the 137 sitting next to your door.

as logan rose his hand to knock, the door was swung open. logan’s eyes widened. he thought he’d gotten himself back into the right headspace to see you again, clearly he’d been mistaken.

the way your low-set brows rose up at the corners in anger, your long lashes drawing his eyes straight to your deep brown ones. your plush lips curled in slightly and your hair flowed down your back smoother than water.

wade whistled, “hey hot stuff-“ before he was cut of with a punch to the nose, dragging him down to the floor.

logan still had yet to say anything, admiring all the parts of you he’d missed.

however he was cut off with a groan, looking down at your claws that had made their way through his abdomen and back out, retracing back into your forearms.

“what the hell are you doing back here? and who’s the red sex-toy lookin’ thing that i j punched?”

as much as logan wanted to laugh at your dig at wade, he knew how to read the room. and frankly, he was still to stunned. “y/n? baby?”

“don’t call me that,” logan’s eyes widened, “you don’t get to call me that after disappearing for 9 months without notice, lo!”

logan couldn’t help but admire your use of his nickname you created even though you’re pissed at him.

“listen. i know, okay? i know and im sorry but if you let me in,” logan stepped closer, “i can expl- ah fuck!”

you’d stabbed him again in the same spot, pushing his body against the hall with your claws. “no you listen to me, logan. and you listen to me good. i’m not letting you come into my- our house after going awol for fucking forever and coming back with some random gay in a red suit,” you pulled your claws out of him but didn’t put them away this time.

your face softens, eyes moving rapidly between logan’s. he knew you better than anyone, he could see the way your eyes shifted from angry to vulnerable and the way your eyebrows lifted; you were a mini him, despite you being the same age.

“i thought you died, lo. i spent the past months thinking the only person i had and loved was fucking dead,” your eyes welled up as you backed away from logan, putting your claws away alas.

“i’m sorry, doll. im so sorry you have no idea,” logan’s calloused hands grazed your forearms, thumbs tracing the spot where your claws rested.

you sighed, holding back the urge to give in and hold onto him as long as you could.

“but you dont understand-“ you looked away, only for logan to lift a hand and cup your face in it, forcing your glossy eyes to meet his.

“you’re right, james! i don’t understand! so jesus fucking christ enlighten me.”

logan was taken back at your use of his real name, lip parting slightly. his heart ached more and more every time he watched your bottom lip quiver. he knew you were trying to keep up your strong facade, but were beginning to fail.

“i had a mission to go on. i had to save the world, baby!” your brows curled back into anger, and logan knew you thought he was bullshitting. “cmon, angel, stay with me. the asshat over there in the red, he dragged me into this. so if you’re gonna kill anyone for this, have it be him. i just- i need you to let me in.”

you shook your head. “lo- just-“ you stuttered, scavenging for words. “but why didn’t you say anything? you couldn’t have called? sent a letter? hell, baby i would’ve been happy with a fucking pigeon!”

“i didn’t have access to that shit.”

“for 9 months?”

he took a deep sigh, “yes, for nine months.” his tone grew louder. “because if i hadn’t left you for those 9 months there would be no more you for me to come back home to!”

“get out of my damn building, logan.”

“what?”

“leave! i want you and that goddamn red thing to get as far away from me as you fucking can and stay there.”

“y/n-“

“bye logan!”

you slammed the door in his face, leaving him standing there in utter disbelief.

logan’s claws retracted, “FUCK!” he screamed through the hall, leaving a giant claw park across your door.

he looked down at wade, who was watching from a safe distance on the floor. he put his claws away, grabbing wade by the fabric of his suit and dragging him onto his feet.

“get up, you heard the girl; let’s get the fuck away from her.”

logan was breathing heavy, more than ever before. it was like his heart couldn’t catch up to everything he was feeling in the moment. the last thing he wanted to be doing right now was walking out of your apartment building and leaving you, but he was weighed down by so much anger and hurt that he wasn’t exactly in control of himself at the moment.

“well,” wade started, “you handled that well.”

and before he knew it, wade was stabbed into a wall. “ow?”

logan growled, “i’m coming back for her.”

wade only let out a long laugh, stopping logan in his tracks.

“what the fuck are you laughing at? you should’ve heard the joke she made about you! she said you look like a sex toy-“

“i’m not laughing at that, you ape. i’m laughing at the fact that you’re coming back to her! look how it turned out the last time you ‘came back.’ “

“you don’t know what you’re talking about, kid. i’m coming back, whether she likes it or not. i’m not losing the love of my life after all i did to make sure i wouldn’t lose her.”

“i-“ “and next time im here, you won’t be.”

so! should i make a part 2 WITH a happy ending when he does come back??? 🫣🫣

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[certainlynotasimp]

Walking on Sunshine

A/N: Hello✨ I realize that my post about Miguel’s height kinda blew up and I kinda wanna try writing a quick little blurb to see if you guys will like it. I been wanting to dove into fanfics, but I’ve been too scared to do so. Please leave some critics for me as I literally just typed this little thing on my phone last night.

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, established relationship? (It’s kinda up to interpretation how deep you want it to be), no use of Y/n (‘Sunny’ is there nickname’).

I haven’t seen the movie so this maybe inaccurate.

TDLR: Miles is meeting all sorts of new Spider-Men as he adventures the Lobby, but who is ‘Sunny’?

—————————————-

As Gwen led Miles around the Lobby with Hobie and Jessica, they reached the main area where they were set to meet the leader.

In the distance, the group can hear arguing, which causes the others to sigh as Miles looks to them in confusion.

“Um, what’s all that about?” Miles questions as he listens more closely as they head towards the noise. As they draw closer, he realizes that the argument sounded more like a deep masculine voice fuming while a softer voice attempts to calm them down.

Jessica chuckles and rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing, most likely Sunny trying to calm down our fearless leader.”

“Sunny?” Miles quirks an eyebrow as Hobie groans.

“I swear, if Sunny wasn’t here, I would have thrashed that prick by now.”

“Now, Hobie, you know Sunny wouldn’t let that happen.” Jessica chuckles as she rubs her aching back. “Besides, you know he can’t stay mad at her for long.”

“Um Excuse me,” Miles interjects, clearly annoyed that they ignored him. “Who is this Sunny? Is she another Spider-Woman or?”

Gwen giggles at Miles’ frustration and nudges him. “Sunny is one of us and Miguel’s favorite, so if you plan to piss off Miguel, make sure Sunny is there to calm him down.”

“Why would I plan to-“

His sentence gets interrupted as the door opens and someone peeks their head out. The woman was about the same height as Gwen and had on a black spider suit. The suit had sections of white on her chest and inner sides of her arms and thighs. The lines of her costume appear to be black with a faint green iridescent in the light. Her eyes shined with a silent apology as her cheeks glowed red. Despite her obvious embarrassment, she smiles at the group brightly.

“Hey, guys.” She greets them in a sweet tone before her eyes lock on Miles. “I see you brought in the legendary Miles Morales, Gwen.”

“You know who I am?” Miles questioned the woman as she opened the door for the group. His eyes glare at Gwen as she responds with a giggle.

“Of course, Gwen told me all about your inter dimensional adventure. You certainly handled yourself well. Even Miggy was impressed.”

Hobie and Jessica laugh at the mention of the nickname while Gwen at least attempts to try not to snort. Sunny tilts her head as she looks quizzically at the laughing trio while Miles looks dumbfounded.

“Whose Miggy?” He ask before a tall man appears on the platform above them.

His burgundy eyes glared down at the group with annoyance as he sighs. “Cariño…”

Sunny looks up at Miguel with an innocent smile as she looks at Miguel with eager anticipation. Miles’ watches as the intimating Spider-Man’s eyes soften as he places his hands on his hips.

“Why don’t you go meet Peter and babysit Mayday for him? I’m sure this meeting won’t take too long.” Miguel’s voice sounded stoic as Sunny’s energy bounced at the thought of playing with a baby.

“Okay!” She agrees as she quickly gives everyone either a hug or a pat. “And Miggy?” She calls as she shoots a web out of the open door, ready for her quick escape.

“Yes?” He answers with a lifted brow as he chooses to ignore Gwen, finally snorting out a laugh.

“Don’t.” She warns with pleading eyes with an unspoken request.

A silent argument playing between them as they both know what’s about to happen. An unfair choice about to be given to a kid. A choice that everyone else had to make in order to become the protectors of their worlds. A judgement that they both wish didn’t have to happen as they weren’t even given the option for their own loved ones.

She looks at Miles briefly as she knows he can’t help to make this life changing decision. She knows how this is probably gonna go and she doesn’t blame him. She would probably fight her hardest if she had known what would have happened to her-.

“I won’t.” Miguel answers, drawing her attention back on him. His eyes stern with a glimmer of guilt, knowing he can’t exactly promise that he will stay in control of his rage if Miles decides to run.

“Alrighty.” Sunny replied before smiling. “You guys have fun.”

With that she left, Miguel softly returning her smile as he watch her leave before becoming stern again as Miles asks,

“So how do I join this team?”

——————-

A/N: That’s all I got for now.😅. I would appreciate some critique and if you wanna see more of ‘Sunny’ and Miggy, let me know.

[minminyoonjii]

Omggg okay so I was wondering if you could an ot8 “ when you start becoming bratty. ” except Reader is usually a good girl and is well behaved. I’m sorry idk where this came from😭😭😭

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

Gender Neutral! Reader|Oversensory|Cursing|Crying|SpankingImplied|Hair Tugging|PopsicleDeepthroat|Hurt/Comfort|Condesending Tone|Dom Drop||Degrading Praise Kink|Angry Caregivers|Disbelief|Force Regression|Implied Blow Job

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.4K

Scenario

You clenched your jaw, feeling frustrated with everything. The clothes you wore, the way you looked, how you stood. Everything. "What the fuck is wrong with me," you grumbled, shaking your leg at the sudden sensory overstimulation. You took a deep breath and decided to scroll through your phone to pass the time. Your Caregiver Title came home, and the loud door closing knocked you off. You glared at the hallway, huffing in annoyance.

Bang Chan

Chan hummed walking in, intentionally pissing you off even more. You sighed through your nose and tried not to snap at him. "Hello, baby. How was your day, hm?" he asked, setting down his backpack. You rolled your eyes, "Good," you replied curtly. Chan tilted his head at your tone, "What was that?" he asked, questioning if he misheard. You groaned, "What?" you asked, glaring at him. Chan straightened his posture, "You know better than to speak to me that way," he said, eyeing you down.  "So what," you huffed, wanting the silence back. Chan chuckled, sending a shiver down your spine, "I'm going to ask you one more time, little one. What's with your attitude?" he asked, gripping your jaw. Sobs bubbled from your throat, the over-sensory tipping off the edge. You explained to him as best as you could through your sobs. Chan sighed and held you close, "You surprised me, little one. Daddy knows you've always been good," he said, pampering you after. 

Lee Minho

Minho stood in the hallway, acknowledging your glare, "Who are you glaring at?" he asked, walking towards you. "The wall," you grumbled, rolling your eyes. Minho raised an eyebrow, "What did the wall do to you?" he asked, prodding at your grumpy behaviour. You huffed, "Can you shut up," you said, gritting your teeth. Minho's eyes widened, not expecting you to snap at him, "What's wrong? And you better not lie," he warned, cracking the joints in his neck.  You scoff in disbelief, "Nothing is wrong. You're just fucking annoying," you grumbled, scrolling through your phone to avoid his eyes. Minho hummed, "Say that again, I dare you," he said, clenching his jaw. You puffed your cheeks, "I don't want to," you muttered, gripping your phone. Minho chuckled, "Fine,"  he said, laying you across his lap. You yelped, "Fuck you," you cursed, squirming to get off. Minho held tight, "Maybe after a few spanks, I fucking will," he grunted, tugging down your pants.

Seo Changbin

"Agi-ah!" Changbin yelled, making you roll your eyes. Changbin smiled, instantly wrapping his arms around you, "Aigoo, Bin missed you," he cooed. You grunted, hating the feeling of warmth from the hug, "Get the fuck off me," you cursed, trying to push him off. Changbin paused at your tone, "Hm?" he questioned, thinking he heard wrong. "Ugh, get off," you huffed, squirming out of his grip. Changbin stood there with his jaw dropped, "What?" he whispered, processing the whole thing. You rolled your eyes and continued scrolling through your phone. Changbin clenched his jaw, "Why are you mad?" he asked, pushing his hair back. "Why are you mad?" you mimicked, sticking your tongue at him. Changbin scoffed in disbelief, "Are you going to talk properly or do I have to force you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. You glared at him, "Fucking make me then," you said, gritting your teeth. Changbin smirked, pushing you down to your knees and forced his thumb into your mouth, "Open," he instructed, unzipping his jeans.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin felt uneasy as he walked through the hallway, "Love?" he asked, flinching when he saw your glare. "Whoa. Why? Why are you mad?" he asked, confused by your behaviour. You sighed, "Nothing," you grumbled, hating the way your hair brushed against your neck. Hyunjin tilted his head, normally at this point, he would contact for back up but he decided to confront you alone. "Don't you want to tell Papa what's wrong? Maybe Papa has a solution," he coaxed, grabbing your sippy cup and filling it with juice.  Your anger wavered briefly, "Fuck off with that, I can handle my own problems," you said, looking away. Hyunjin gulped but remained calm, "Aww, but doesn't Papa always help you, hm?" he asked, noticing your eyes flicker. You lowered your head, "Don't want it," you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers. Hyunjin smirked, "Fine then, Papa will just use your sippy cup. This juice tastes very yummy," he said, turning around. "Papa," you whimpered, jutting your bottom lip when Hyunjin knew you slipped.

Han Jisung

"Sweetheart, I'm home," Jisung sang, walking down the hallway. You groaned, "Shut the fuck up," you huffed, staring at him. Jisung flinched, "Is something wrong? Did I forget something?" he asked, reaching out to rub your shoulders but you slapped his hand away. Jisung's jaw dropped, "Okay. What the fuck was that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. You bit your tongue, “Nothing, just go away," you grumbled, clenching your hands into fists.  Jisung eyed your behaviour, "You know I can't help you if you aren't communicating right?" he said, guessing what's pissing you off. You rolled your eyes, "I don't need your help. Why is it so hard to leave me alone," you said, tearing up in frustration. Jisung sighed, "Do you want a hug? Or is that too much?" he asked, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You sniffled, "Hug, please," you said, opening your arms. Jisung held you tight, "Silly little baby. Next time just tell Appa, hm?" he chuckled, rubbing your back.

Lee Felix

Felix's eyes widened at your glare, "Is everything okay?" he asked, careful with his words. You scoffed, "What do you think?" you asked, clenching your jaw. Felix squinted at you, "I think you're pissed off and I don't know why," he said, patting your head. You glared at him harder, furrowing your eyebrows so hard that your headache. "Do you want to talk about it?" Felix asked, seeing the frustration on your face. You rolled your eyes, "I don't know, do I?" you sarcastically asked.  Felix scoffed, pressing his tongue against his inner cheek, "I don't like that tone of yours, sunbeam," he warned, crossing his arms. You looked away from him, "Not my problem," you scowled, puffing your cheeks. Felix chuckled, "Isn't it now?" he asked, thinking of a punishment that would make you crumble. You stuck your tongue at him in response. "That's it, no more desserts and that includes brownies for you," he said, holding your jaw. Your eyes widened, "That's not fair," you whined. He smirked, "It definitely is," he said, patting your cheek.

Kim Seungmin

Seungmin raised an eyebrow at your glare, "What the fuck is your problem?" he asked, crossing his arms. You rolled your eyes, "None of your business," you grumbled, ignoring him. Seungmin glared back at you. "Are you sure you want to misbehave?" he asked, wondering if you were faking your attitude. You scoffed, "How is this misbehaving, Bitch?" you cursed, clenching your jaw.  Seungmin chuckled, finding your behaviour endearing, "Aww, the sweet munchkin decided to act up today, huh?" he said, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging it upwards. You scowled, turning your hair to try to bite his wrist. Seungmin cooed, "Stupid little thing still thinks that they're scary," he said, gripping your hair tighter. You whimpered at the hold, tears welding in your eyes. "That's better. You should really know your place, munchkin," he chuckled, kissing your forehead. 

Yang Jeongin

"Angel, I bought some ice cream," Jeongin said, walking towards you. "I don't want it," you said, glaring at him. Jeongin froze in place, furrowing his eyebrows at your tone, "Hm, that's not how you should be talking to me now is it," he said, staring you down. You looked him directly in the eyes, "I don't care," you said, rolling your eyes. Jeongin scoffed, pushing back his hair, "Did you eat?" he asked, crossing his arms. You groaned, "No. Why the fuck are you asking?" you asked, gritting your teeth.  Jeongin chuckled, taking out a cold popsicle from the bag, "Open," he said, unwrapping the ice cream. You glared at him and pressed your lips tight. Jeongin rolled his eyes and covered your nose with his free hand. You gasped for air "Fuc-" you said, getting cut off by the cold treat filling your mouth. Jeongin moved the stick in and out forcing you to suck on it, "That wasn't so hard now was it," he cooed, seeing you suckle on the popsicle with a smile.

[murdrdocs]

i know you're not taking requests right now but i cannot get this off my mind, so plss respond when they are open again i really don't want to stress u out so take ur time 😭

but mike fucking u in the shower while ur trying to wash your hair 🤓☝

like ur over here trying to rinse the soap off of ur body and he's just shoving his finger in and out of you

ARE U IN YM BRAIN ??? I LEGIT JUST HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT WHILE I WAS IN THE FUCKING SHOWER BRO ???? buttt (GN! reader; 17+)

when you're truly and honestly just trying to get clean. you've fallen victim to another one of mike's "we need to save hot water by showering together" schemes and you're slightly grumpy as you silently tell yourself that it won't happen again (it will). because any efforts you make to scrub your hair or body clean is thwarted by mike's hands, curious as if he doesn't know your body better than it's inhabitant.

roaming down your waist and along your hips easily with the slip that the water provides. attempting to slide between your thighs or up to fondle your nipples, erected from the cold air that drafts in from over the shower curtain. each time, you smack his hand away, and he mumbles a half assed apology only to repeat it again.

and eventually, you decide that it'll just be much easier to let him do what he wants while you do what you want. but your interests are conflicting. mikes fingers are hard to ignore when they pump within your walls, which definitely want him more than you're pretending. your body always reacts to its co-owner, legs spreading and back arching as it opens you up more for him.

of course, mike notices, laugh a little too cruel for your still pissed off state. "you can pretend all you want, baby," spoken over the thud of water against plastic as his tip breaches your fluttering entrance, providing just the thing to satisfy your greedy hole.

[ericshoney]

Grumpy Girl ~ Sturniolo triplets

It was a normal Thursday. You had woken up in Nick's bed and could hear the guys downstairs talking, Chris screaming about something. You checked your phone and saw it was two in the afternoon, making you sigh and slowly get up and head downstairs.

"Good morning!" Chris exclaimed once he saw you.

"Shut up." You grumbled, making the trio laugh.

"Is the little baby grumpy this morning." Nick mocked in a baby voice.

"Fuck off." You muttered, going to the kitchen to grab a drink before heading back upstairs to Nick's room to have a shower.

When you had finished and got dressed, still feeling slightly grumpy, you returned to the triplets, who were still sat on the sofa.

"We're thinking of vlogging today, you want to join?" Matt offered.

"Sure, just don't piss me off." You answered.

"Okay grumpy girl." Chris teased, as you threw a pillow at him.

"Let's go!" Nick exclaimed, already heading downstairs to the garage.

You trudged along behind, the three boys already in their usual seats. You got in the back besides Nick as Chris started singing loudly to the music.

"Be quiet bitch." You said, laying your head on the window.

"And there's miss grumpy pants, say hi to the vlog!" Nick shouted, waving the camera in your face.

"Hi vlog." You half-assed greeted.

"There she is, Queen of grumps. So we're off to get food!" Nick said, turning the camera back to himself.

You remained quiet for the rest of the car ride, Chris still singing, but quieter. Nick was talking to the camera, while Matt was focused on driving, occasionally looking at you.

The triplets knew you had days where you didn't feel the best, resulting in you being grumpy and pouty. Nick and Chris loved to tease you about it, whilst Matt watched silently. All three of them were obviously caring and supportive over you, wanting you happy and smiling at all times, but still loved to tease you when they could.

You four had soon arrived at your chosen food destination and as you stepped out of the car, you let out a small yawn, before hearing a giggle from Chris.

"Is someone still sleepy?" Chris called with another giggle.

"Shhh." You replied, waving your hand in Chris' face.

He laughed again before dashing ahead, Nick shaking his head as he followed with the camera, whilst Matt trailed behind with you.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked softly.

"Hmm." You mumbled.

"Bad nights sleep or just not feeling good?" He asked.

"Just not feeling good. Don't wanna be grumpy." You answered with a small pout.

Matt nodded and wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulder as you both walked inside, already seeing Chris and Nick have ordered the food for all of you.

As all of you ate, Chris, Matt and Nick joked around and talked to the camera. You smiled a bit as you watched on quietly, as you ate more, you started to feel a bit better and less grumpy.

"Can we get ice cream?" You quietly cut in.

"Will it make you happy and not grumpy anymore?" Nick questioned.

"Yes." You answered with a nod.

"Then off we go to get ice cream!" Chris exclaimed, making Nick shh him as people started to look, which made you and Matt laugh.

Once you all finished, you left and headed back to the car, ready to go get ice cream. The boys saw the smile on your face as you started to talk more and relax, which made them happy.

"Life lesson here, if your grumpy or have a grumpy friend, get them food and promise them ice cream, it makes them happy." Nick said, waving the camera at your smiling face.

You smiled and are glad you agreed to go out with them for the day, not lay in Nick's bed and have a resting grump face all day long.

[irisintheafterglow]

blood moonlit, must be counterfeit

summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes. (pro!bakugo x you)

wc: 1.68k

cw/tags: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol

note: NEW HALLOWEEN HEADER BABY also this idea had me by the throat so i needed to write it down before it consumed my entire psyche. i'm back to writing for bakugo again because iykyk and halloween fics are giving me a lot of motivation right now. hope you enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“I have to admit–your costume is pretty damn good.”

“Yeah? Just ‘pretty good?’”

“Mhmm. Almost looks like the real thing,” you remark, taking another sip of the dangerously sweet jungle juice in your cup. It's an unreadable mix of bad ideas and bold flirtation, perfect for a Halloween party of barely 21 adults. The blonde guy beside you on the worn leather couch tilts his head slightly like he's re-affirming what you just said in his mind. “I think the real Dynamight would be impressed.”

“Would he, now,” he huffs under his breath, mouth curling into an unreadable smirk. He exhales a quick breath of what you think is amusement through his nose, eyes flicking over your body for the umpteenth time since he sat down with you. It makes your face heat up and you casually avert your gaze downward, catching more details of his costume that you didn’t notice before. 

The gauntlets were obviously the star of the arrangement, covered in numerous scratches, burns, and dents that attested to their “battle” usage. The boots were impressive, too, and you wondered how long it took to place every individual orange eyelet over the front of each calf. The cinder block rectangles sitting on his broad shoulders truly looked like real stone, solid like the toned muscle holding them up. It was the domino mask that threw you off the most, though. The guy must have been wearing bright red contacts, or something, because to look so similar to the actual Pro should have been considered a crime. 

“Who’d you come to the party with?”

“Just some friends,” he replies, shrugging an infuriatingly sexy shoulder. His entire look was putting the real Dynamight to shame, in your opinion. He nods upward in the direction of a guy in an equally accurate Deku costume standing with a very convincing Shoto lookalike. “They dared me to wear this and I lost the bet.”

“Must have been some bet, if you’re moping over here like a toddler.” The shrewdness of your words escapes you until they’re already past your lips; thankfully, he just smirks again and leans his head back, resting an arm on the back of the sofa.

“I’ll ignore that you said that, 'cause you're clearly intoxicated” he mutters, shooting you a brutal side-eye. Thanks to the alcohol, though, you’re far from deterred. 

“How gracious,” you chuckle and his smirk gets a little more arrogant. “What was the bet?”

“Some dumb drinking contest. That asswipe in the green can put down more shots than he looks.” He scowls and you fight down the urge to giggle at his bitter expression. He was the only guy you’ve ever seen that could make a grumpy face look hot. The only guy besides Bakugo himself, of course. “I wouldn’t have worn this shit to a party to save my life.”

“What, Dynamight isn’t your favorite Pro?”

“I’m more of an All Might guy,” he replies nonchalantly. He appreciates the classic heroes. Good sign. “If I had to choose a different one, I’d probably say Jeanist.”

“Jeanist is pretty cool. My best friend had a cardboard cutout of Eraserhead in her closet growing up.” He barks out a laugh and it startles you, but a mysterious feeling in your stomach wants to make him do it again. “What do you think of the current gen of heroes?” He hums thoughtfully, running his tongue over his top lip and you swallow back your drool.

“Red Riot’s a good guy. Deku pisses me the fuck off, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Same thing with Pinky and that Half-and-Half asshat. Chargebolt…” His expression turns into a frown so deep you’re worried that Chargebolt killed his family or something heinous like that. 

“What about him?”

“He’s just dumb. If given the choice between his life and a grain of sand, I’d take the sand,” he deadpans and you choke unexpectedly, wincing as your drink travels up the wrong tube and into your nose. His eyes widened in concern, reaching out to pat your back but deciding against it at the last moment. His glove-covered hands hover around you like you’re radioactive matter, carefully watching as you regain your composure. “You good, nerd?” Uses the same vocabulary as the real guy, too. Kind of weird, but I guess we all have our idols. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t expect you to badmouth him like you two were friends from high school or something,” you joke lightheartedly and the guy blinks at you twice before computing what you said. 

“It’s whatever. They’re super fuckin’ easy to read, in any case,” he states with an air of finality and you down the rest of your drink, the dim lighting starting to blur everything around you into a single greenish-orange blob. “What about you? What are your thoughts on the new gen?”

“I can’t make such bold judgments as you, but I do think Dynamight is pretty cool,” you admit, suddenly feeling a little bashful when having the same question turned on you. The truth was, you followed the lives of the heroes a bit too closely than the average person should. It fascinated you so much that you were majoring in Quirk-specific journalism, studying the social and economic consequences of being a Pro. “I think his public persona is an interesting case when compared to other heroes.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’d like to imagine that he’s not always the loud, arrogant, obnoxious piece of shit that the press shows,” you start and narrow your eyes in confusion when he flinches at your description. You continue anyway but choose your words a little more carefully. Probably isn’t good to upset the guy who might have fashioned functioning gauntlets, if the costume truly is accurate. “There’s a side to him that I think the public doesn’t know about and doesn’t care to know about, since it’s easier to understand him as a loudmouth with no sense of manners. I just wonder who that guy is under all the yelling and testosterone.” His silence is deafening and you worry that you somehow offended him, but his tone is so gentle that your assumption becomes an impossibility.

“Seems like you’ve given this guy a great deal of thought,” he says lowly, voice barely audible over the sound of the blaring house music. 

“Well, he is my favorite,” you add quietly, not expecting him to catch what you said. He does, though, and that mischievous smirk returns to his face. Somehow, you two had inched closer together over the course of your conversation, and you were now close enough to smell his cologne. It was something deep and smoky, with a surprise note of sweetness, like caramel. “I’ve been following his hero career since I was in high school.”

“I didn’t take you for a superfan, but I do appreciate your support,” he chuckles and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seriously haven’t figured it out?”

“Figured what out?”

“That I’m Dynamight, stupid. This is my actual costume and those are my actual friends. Hell, I'm paying for this whole shitty party,” he says incredulously, genuinely shocked that you didn’t come to that conclusion already. Your skepticism, however, rears its head and you burst out into rude laughter. 

Dynamight? Yeah, right. More like Dyna-maybe. 

“Excuse me?” He stares at you like you’d grown three heads and your heart drops into your stomach. You must have said your thoughts out loud. Fuck! “You’ve got some nerve, testing the patience of a Pro.” His words, under any other circumstances, would have cut down your pride like a knife. However, his eyes were conveying a different story, one of lust and want and holyshityouwantedhim. “Got anything to say, sweetheart? Or are you gonna just keep gaping like a fuckin’ goldfish?” You abruptly snap your jaw back into place, leaning your head into your hand and smiling in triumph when his gaze again uncontrollably rakes over your body.  

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“See what, gorgeous?”

“That a Pro kisses better than a normal person,” you murmur and his pupils blow to the size of pool balls. He wastes no time, gently but firmly grabbing your chin with two fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. His lips are ridiculously soft and you muster up the courage to bite him softly, heartbeat racing when he groans into your mouth. One arm drapes itself over the back of the couch, the other pulling you as close to him as humanly possible without practically sitting on him. Your hand combs through his hair and the other keeps him on you by the back of his neck.

Right when you run out of breath, he pulls away and swears colorfully at the phone buzzing in his pocket, answering it with one hand while his forearm is still pressed against your lower back. You absentmindedly trace his jawline with a finger while he curses out the person on the other line, eventually chucking the device over his shoulder like it was the last thing he was thinking about. “You need to go somewhere, sweetheart?” He lightly pinches your side at your mockery and you jump, flicking his forehead in defiance. 

“Nah, that was a job for Dynamight. Right now, I guess I’m still fuckin' Dyna-maybe,” he rasps and leans back in to kiss you again but you push his face away, giving him as sober of a look as possible. “What?”

“If you need to go kick ass, then go kick ass. I’m just some random makeout at a party,” you remind him, painfully aware of the sting if he was to leave you alone. His expression contorts into indignancy again but you still try to convince him to alleviate whatever situation he was called in for. “Your job is more important than a hookup.”

“I don’t do hookups, dumbass. I’m interested in you,” he states plainly and your face is set on fire. The Pro, who you just insulted to his face, was interested in you? “So, let’s get out of here, yeah? I can make you dinner that isn’t shitty pizza.” His mouth breaks into a devilish grin and you’re already grabbing onto his hand like your life depended on it. 

“If someone messes with us?”

“It’s a good thing I’m already in costume.” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[wanderingcas]

[just a dumb little thing i wanted to write about Cas's bad moods being positively affected by dean's touch]

--

Dean scrubs a hand down his face and resists a loud sigh. Coffee. He needs coffee. Driving for eighteen hours straight isn’t good for anyone, but especially not for someone with a grumpy, newly ex-angel sitting shotgun. 

Cas, tucked in the crowded line by Dean’s side, is oscillating between his typical feelings of disgruntled and fascinated by his surroundings. Just by the look on his face, Dean knows what he wants to complain about: the stuffy, small cafe is too hot, the people are talking too loud, and the barista at the counter is more focused on chatting with her customers than actually ordering their food, and Dean, why do humans insist on small talk if they’ll never see each other again? Most of these people are traveling and are transient, what is the point of commenting on the weather if—

“Would you stop!” Dean snaps. Several heads turn toward them. Ducking his head, Dean mutters a curse. He’s been listening to Cas’s bitching on the road trip for so long that it’s starting to knock around his head. 

Cas frowns. “What’s wrong, Dean?”

“Nothing.” He pushes his shoulder into Cas’s. “Line’s movin’.” 

He’s exhausted. Which makes him feel all sorts of guilty, because whatever exhaustion he feels, Cas must feel it tenfold. Cas’s grace fully depleted only a few weeks ago and the transition has been… less than pleasant for all involved. For Cas, it means feeling human like he never has before. He described the sensations—touch, smell, emotion, temperature, you name it—like a thousand itches that he can’t quite scratch. It makes him a grumpier bastard than usual. 

Sam, as patient as he tried to be in the beginning, recently started losing his cool. Eileen had completely given up on the situation and wisely fucked off a few days into the whole process. When Claire called about the vamp nest she found in Nebraska, Dean couldn’t get in the car fast enough. 

Cas insisted on coming. Sam insisted on staying. And, well—that was that. 

Dean snags a glance at Cas next to him in the line. He’s squinting at the menu above the cashier. They found out he was near-sighted when he went full human, but he refuses to wear the prescription glasses Dean got him. 

“Want me to read it to you?” Dean asks.

“No,” Cas snaps. 

Grinding his back teeth, Dean huffs out a sigh. Which, of course, Cas hears. His frown deepens into a glare. 

Dean’s gonna hear about it later in the car. Something along the lines of I’m so sorry my weaknesses are an inconvenience to you, Dean. Would you be more lenient with me if I was still an angel and could fight your battles for you? And no I won’t wear the glasses because I’m a big angry baby in a trenchcoat that doesn’t have any fucking clue how to manage his own emotions and—

“What can I get you?” the barista asks sunnily. 

Dean slams his credit card on the counter. “Got any liquor?”

The barista’s smile goes a little crooked. “It’s eight in the morning.” 

“Just—a coffee. Big one,” Dean adds as she keys it into the computer. He turns to Cas. “What do you want?” 

Cas doesn’t answer; he’s looking off to the right, a frown on his face. But not his usual pissed-off frown. A curious one. 

Dean elbows him. “Dude.” 

Cas blinks, coming back to Earth, turning to the expectant barista. “Tea. Matcha, if you have it.” 

Dean regrets letting Sam introduce him to that one. Taking his credit card back from the barista, their bill paid, he and Cas step off to the side. Dean finally glances at whatever the hell was so interesting to capture Cas’s attention. 

Two women sit at a table, their eaten food just wrappers and crumby plates in front of them. Their hands are linked on the tabletop. Dean bristles; is Cas going to ask him why two women are holding hands? He can’t be that out of touch with humanity. But no; it’s something else. One woman is smiling, the other isn’t. Is that what caught Cas’s attention? 

Dean sighs through his nose, shaking his head at himself. Trying to figure out what’s going on in Cas’s head lately is like trying to solve a Rubik's cube. 

He feels a little tug at his jacket pocket. Dean paws Cas’s hand out of the way. “The hell are you doing?” 

“I need your phone,” Cas says.

“What for?”

“I want to see how much longer until our destination.” 

“You could just ask,” Dean shoots back. 

Cas frowns. He goes for Dean’s pocket again. 

“Jesus, fine,” Dean mutters, pulling the phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. He shoves it into Cas’s hands. (Cas had a phone, but he left it at a gas station a few hundred miles back. Dean’s not sure if he can fully blame Cas’s inattention to detail on being a human.)

Dean folds his arms over his chest and looks at the women again. They’ve stood up from the table, and the more upset-looking of the two has leaned against the other, who has her arms around her. 

Cas is looking up at the women again, the Google maps app open on the screen forgotten. 

“Large dark roast and matcha latte!” someone calls from the counter. 

Dean turns away from the women and Cas, scooping up their drinks. “Wanna drink ‘em in the car or here?” he asks. He hopes that Cas will choose the latter, because the thought of hurtling down the highway in an enclosed space again is making Dean’s stomach turn. 

Cas’s blue eyes turn to Dean. “Can we drink them outside?”

There’s a small bench next to the entrance door. They park themselves there and sip at their drinks as people filter in and out of the door. The two women come out a few minutes later and go into a blue Prius a few spots away from the Impala. 

“Somethin’ suspicious about them?” Dean asks. When Cas gives him a curious look, Dean juts his chin toward the women. “You’re lookin’ at ‘em a lot.” 

Cas shakes his head. “Nothing suspicious. Just… curiosity.” 

Dean clears his throat. Nods. “Well, Cas, in our society there occasionally comes a time where people feel romantic feelings toward each other, and they decide to express that through—”

“Not that,” Cas snaps. He rolls his eyes at Dean’s cheeky grin. “I’m trying to understand human behavior more. Since I’m… unfortunately part of your species, now.” 

“All right, Jane Goodall, so what’d you observe?” 

Cas takes a sip of his grassy drink. “The blonde woman was upset. The brunette woman comforted her through touch. And it seemed to work.” 

“Okay,” Dean says slowly, “and why is that weird?”

Cas turns his gaze to Dean. “You’re not comforted through touch. In fact, it makes you angrier.” 

Dean snorts, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean. It’s not like I just want people—touchin’ me all the time.” 

“Especially not when you’re upset,” Cas adds.

“Well, yeah. That’s a pretty common thing.” 

Cas shakes his head. “Not necessarily. When Sam is upset, Eileen hugs him. And that’s received well.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause they’re dating.” 

“So touch is only welcomed when one is upset when they’re romantically involved?” 

“Well.” Dean frowns at the steam rising from his coffee. “I mean, not always. Friends hug each other when one of them’s upset.” 

Cas cants his head to one side. “So the two women could have been friends?” 

“I’m betting not,” Dean snorts. “Friends don’t really hold hands. Not all the time.” 

“But sometimes?”

“Sure. Sometimes.” 

Cas nods, seeming to consider this. Dean takes a sip of coffee; then nearly spits it out again when a hand gently falls on top of his. He snatches his hand back and gapes at Cas’s innocent gaze. “What the hell, dude?”

“You said that friends sometimes hold hands.” 

“I mean—you don’t just—” Dean huffs out a frustrated sigh. “Hugging is more in the friendship zone.” 

A line appears between Cas’s eyebrows. “We only hug when one of us is about to die.” 

And—Jesus. Okay. Dean has to blink hard a few times to find his center again from that one. “Um, yeah, I guess we do.” 

“So if hugging is reserved only for mortal danger,” Cas continues, “and holding hands is too romantic—what else is there?”

Dean’s jaw works as he tries to figure out what to say. “I—you just—” He throws up a hand. “I don’t know, Cas! A pat on the shoulder? A friendly high five?” 

Cas’s expression drops a bit. He frowns down at his tea, crestfallen. 

Dean scrubs a hand down his face. Shit. The only thing worse than a grumpy ex-angel is a sad one. 

He glances around them. No one’s paying attention. The bench is by the door, but people are too focused on getting inside to eat, or making a beeline to their cars. Besides, he’s sitting so close to Cas on the bench, it won’t even be noticeable. 

Dean sighs. He holds out his hand, palm up. When Cas just stares at it, Dean moves it closer with a frustrated noise. That seems to make Cas get the picture; with a small smile, he takes Dean’s hand. He even laces their fingers together, which does not make Dean shiver and feel like his nerves are on fire. 

“Only for a minute,” Dean says gruffly. 

Cas nods. “Okay.” 

And they sit there, hands linked between them on the bench, as they finish their drinks.

--

[And no, dear reader, it does not last a minute. In fact, it becomes Dean's new superpower—hugging, holding, or letting Cas glomp onto him whenever Cas is even in a remotely bad mood. Sam and Eileen take notice, but don't comment, because Cas is finally a relaxed and happy human.]