#let me tell you being trapped lying down on your bed unable to do anything does NOT help with the horrible mental state

[werewolf-transgenderism]

anybody want to trade musculoskeletal systems because mine is driving me to madness at the moment

[sosa2imagines]

Broken Hearts. Part 4

Warnings- Angst, threats, possessiveness, manipulation.

The image of your tear-stained cheeks and exhausted form, haunted Nick as he observed your slumber.

Carrying you gently, bridal style, he took great care to ensure your comfort. When he stepped back into the house, Lloyd stood frozen, his worry evident as Nick shook his head, silently requesting silence.

Nick cautiously laid you down on the bed, his touch tender and protective. Stepping out to join Lloyd, Nick found Lloyd's impatience palpable, unable to hide his frustration and concern.

Lloyd's impatience spiked as he demanded answers from Nick. “Will you tell me what's going on? Why does her face look like she's been crying for hours?” His voice carried a mix of anger and desperation. Nick, sensing Lloyd's frustration, calmly gestured for his friend to wait.

He knew that Andy's presence would help provide clarity. When Andy finally arrived, Nick expressed his gratitude, to which Andy responded, “I got here as fast as I could, man.”

Lloyd's impatience and anger exploded as he yelled, “If you're done with the pleasantries, what the hell is going on?”

Nick sighed wearily, rubbing a hand across his face, his frustration palpable. His voice laced with worry, he filled Andy and Lloyd in on the phone call between you and Steve.

“That's it! He deserves to be twelve feet under! How dare he threat my sugar?!” Lloyd seethed, his fists clenching at his sides. “Don't do anything stupid, I'm angry too. But we need to sort this out in a different manner.” Andy suggests, to which Nick agrees.

Nick's fists clenched tightly as he relayed the details of Steve's threat, his voice laced with frustration. “That bastard is threatening Y/n with some video, some guy named Barnes made, and she has no idea about it!”

Upon hearing the name Barnes, Lloyd's eyes widened, a flicker of recognition sparking in his gaze. “Barnes?” he echoed. “Do you know him?” Nick asks. “Bucky Barnes as in ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ is Steve's best friend,” he confirmed, his voice low and intense. “But I don’t know, how he is involved in this.”

“We need to know, if he is serious about the video, what if he is lying to get Y/n back?” Andy suggests.

“We should just kill him,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his fists clenched fiercely. “He's crossed a line, threatened Sugar, and now we know he's linked to Bucky.” The room's tension thickened as Lloyd's fierce declaration hung in the air, the gravity of his suggestion palpable.

Nick's voice was steady and filled with understanding as he appealed to Lloyd's rationality. “Listen, Lloyd... I know you want to take matters into your own hands, believe me, I do too. But Steve's been digging around. He knows about you, May and her family. Y/N went through hell on that phone call. She panicked and begged, but Steve, the son of a bitch that he is, gave her no choice and just ended the call.”

The room fell silent as your voice, heavy with sadness, cut through the conversation. “Lloyd?” you softly spoke, capturing his attention.

His head snapped in your direction, and he immediately pulled you into a warm embrace, providing comfort as you let your tears flow. As you sobbed quietly against Lloyd, he gently held you, his protective presence providing solace amidst the storm.

Lloyd's voice was gruff but soothing as he whispered comforting words, “Shh, Sugar, no more crying. I'll take care of that bastard. Nick told me everything.” He carefully guided you over to the couch, his strong, protective arms still enveloping you, ensuring you felt safe and secure.

Your voice quivered as you shared your fears with Lloyd, the weight of Steve's threats hanging heavily in the air. “Steve is going to ruin my life, if I don't go back to him like a good wife.” you confessed between sobs, the desperation in your eyes evident. The thought of being trapped in Steve's control, being his obedient wife, sent shivers down your spine.

“No, he won't.” Andy assures you, sitting next to you, taking your hands in his. Nick sits on the coffee table in front of you and cups your face, “I told you, me and Lloyd will deal with him. And we will make him pay.”

“If he dares to use the video against you or even if he is lying, just to threaten you, he will not like what happens.” Lloyd smirks rubbing your back. 

Andy's voice broke through the emotional storm, his words sharp and resolute. “Steve really goofed up this time, Y/n. Threatening you? That's against the law.” Andy stated firmly, his gaze fixed on you, offering a glimmer of legal reassurance.

Lloyd's demeanor hardened as he offered a reassuring statement, “Don't you worry, sugar. My trustworthy man is en-route with more information.” The mention of having a reliable source of information added a flicker of hope in the midst of the tumultuous situation.

 As you all are waiting for Lloyd's guy to show up, Lloyd asks you about Bucky. “Sugar how do you know Barnes?”

You stiffen a bit, but Lloyd rubs your back to comfort you sensing your distress. You relax a bit sitting in the middle between Andy and Lloyd and Nick in front of you, you feel safe, surrounded by people who genuinely care for you.

“I met Bucky, before Steve… In fact, he told me he is best friends with Steve.” You look down in your lap, as you bring up your past. Nick gently presses your knee, encouraging you to carry on, you smile.

“Prom night, we met at prom I was alone…” “You were alone?” Lloyd interrupts, making Andy and Nick glare at him, he just shrugs, as you carry on. “Yes, I was alone Lloyd, you were busy with Madison and our sweet Andy was with her sister Megan and Nick joined, after Prom, year later.” Nick smiles, while Andy blushes.

“So I was standing there alone, out of nowhere Bucky came behind me, he made me blush so hard...” “hey, why aren't you dancing doll?”  “Nobody asked me, why aren't you dancing?” “Nobody wants to dance with me...” “Oh…” “You wanna dance with me?” “I'm not a good dancer…” “Neither am I, come on doll.” He took my hand, and lead me to the dance floor.

After dancing for some time, we went out in the garden. We were looking at the sky… it was clear that night, he kept on looking at me… then one thing led to another and we kissed. I thought that was about it, but the next day he asked me out. Of course, I said yes, he was my first everything, you know.

But I swear, I had no idea he was recording us. After we were done, he told me to dress up and dropped me home. I didn't pay much attention to it. For almost two weeks, we were in a relationship, if in today's words ‘friends with benefits’ from his side. On the last day, he told me, we are over, as he is moving to London to look after his family business.

 After he left, Steve came into my life, he took good care of me. Turns out, he was equally alone without his best friend. That's how we ended up together and the rest is history. 

“What about piggy?” Lloyd asks. “Piggy?” You furrow your brows in confusion. “Steve's mistress…” Nick answers on behalf of Lloyd.

Your voice carried a hint of bitterness as you revealed the truth about Peggy. “Peggy never really cared about Steve,” you explained, frowning. “She didn't have any interest in him until he became wealthy. Then, suddenly, she was all over him.” The revelation left a sour taste in your mouth as you pondered the superficial nature of Peggy's intentions.

Your voice quivered with an undercurrent of sadness and regret as you confessed, “Steve always brushed off my concerns about Peggy. He would assure me not to worry, and like a fool, I forgave him each time.” The pain in your words echoed the turmoil within you, as you grappled with the weight of past naivety and misplaced trust.

“I can kill him.” Lloyd suggests and you shook your head, covering your face with your hands.

After some moments, Lloyd's trusted associate, entered the room, his casual attire contrasting sharply with the tense atmosphere. His charismatic presence commanded attention, and his suave demeanour set him apart along with his shaggy hair.

As he settled onto the coffee table next to Nick, his sharp eyes scanned the faces of Lloyd, Andy, and Nick, before finally landing on your tear-stained cheeks. His eyes widened slightly with surprise and sympathy.

“Ah, I see my arrival is a bit late for the party,” Ari quipped, a hint of charm in his voice. His gaze softened as he discreetly nodded in your direction, a silent acknowledgment of your current state.

You wiped away the remnants of tears, feeling a slight blush creep up your cheeks, as you introduced yourself to Ari. “I’m Y/n, L/n” you murmured, attempting a hint of a smile. “Ari Levinson.” he takes your hand, to kiss your knuckles, making Lloyd glare at him, while Nick and Andy try to control their laugh.

“Steve is an idiot, you are so gorgeous.” Ari winks at you, making you blush and Lloyd looks like, he will go on a killing spree, Ari smirks at him. “I got the information you wanted. Shall I begin?”

Part 3- Part 5

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[babeczka415]

Trap of Lies - Chapter 1

I wake up to a pounding headache and a horrible taste in my mouth. My eyes are still closed but as I open them I see I’m not home anymore. I’m laying on a cot and I see a bucket and a wooden chair. I’m so confused on where I am but all I hear is dripping water coming from outside. I remember waiting for him for our anniversary date but then I don’t remember much after that. This pounding headache probably isn’t helping my memory at all either.

You see, I met him two years ago. I was at a flower stand with the man I was supposed to marry, however he was trying to buy my least favorite flowers. I was heading to my favorite when he kept grabbing my hand. I am stubborn which is very unlady like and refused to let him buy the one’s he wanted simply because they were cheaper. However, I noticed this man standing in the shadows of the alleyway. He was keeping himself hidden from the crowd, or so he thought, but I noticed him. Something about him filled me with feelings I sure didn’t have for this other man. In that moment of staring at him the man pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around me.

You see, my family wasn’t doing well with the trade business my father had. This man’s family had made a deal with my father to help keep his business afloat if I married their son. When I met this man I was not a fan of his due to his reputation in this town for treating women like property, to him that is all I was.

As I looked back to the alleyway the man I saw before was gone and I felt my body being pulled in a different direction. I tried to stop him but he refused to listen. All of a sudden I see someone step between us and stop him.

“She wants to go somewhere else. Were you not taught to treat a woman with respect?” this man says. All I see is his back but he’s wearing the same as the man I saw in the alley and my heart I swear stops. 

The memories of those following weeks flood me. He got in touch with my father and helped me in exchange for me not having to marry that man. He never told me about his past or what he did when he wasn’t helping my father with the trade business. However, I knew his name was Jake and he called me MC. He had a huge house in the town which helped my father understand that was able to take care of me if we went that path. It didn’t take long for those feelings from the market to come back, watching him with my father working and coming around as much as he could. He finally asked me to be his and I accepted because for the first time in my life, I wanted it with this man.

Him asking me was a year ago today. He had this plan for today but refused to tell me. I was waiting at my parents house alone for him when someone broke it and took me.

I’m laying on the bed hoping for him to save me soon when I hear someone come and unlock the door. I jump up and this man is standing there with a stew and water for me. He doesn���t say anything at the moment but puts it down on the chair. As he goes to leave someone else comes in.

“Look lady, all you have to do is tell us where that man in your life finds the secrets that he keeps and sells.” this unknown man states.

“I have no idea what you are talking about!” I yell. “He works the trade business is all I know” I start to cry because they must have me confused me with someone else.

I hear the man laugh “oh sweetheart, we know you're lying so this is going to be easier if you just tell us everything” he says as he grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the room. There is no point in fighting this man, I feel too weak already. He pulls me into a room and ties me to a chair. I look around and see different items for torture and I still think they have the wrong person.

The man turns to me and grabs my face, “Look MC, just tell us where Jake gets his secrets and who he sells them too.” My eyes might get wide and scared as I’m unable to say anything as the man knows my name and Jake’s name. “Acting like you don’t know his secrets isn’t going to help you because we will just get you to talk,” the man says, letting go of my face and turning away.

“Sir, I really have no idea what you are talking about. My Jake works the trade business. He doesn't find people’s secrets and sell them,” I cry out.

[mlchaelwheeler]

Even if Mike meant everything he said to El, the whole monologue stems from a lie. The one thing (all the stuff about the painting and El etc) that encouraged him to confess his feelings wasn't even true lol. Now he thinks that El "needs" him, when she doesn't. It's funny bc Will is the only reason why he said anything to El. I'm just curious about it because I wonder if it will come back and bite them in a way. At the same time though I'm still really mad at the writing when it comes to Mike.

I totally agree. They completely failed Mike this season in every possible way. They had him ignore Will (his best friend for 10 years) for no reason, realize he "loves" El only after she gets her powers back, and not even be able to tell El his feelings until Will begs him to do so.

The whole monologue is full of lies, which is so funny because mi|even's whole relationship is also built on lies. Both Mike and El have been constantly lying to each other since they got together in S3, even with "friends don't lie" being Mike's key phrase.

The line from Mike's monologue that stuck out to me the most was "I feel like my life didn't begin until the day I met you. I knew I loved you then and there." Like???? He had the audacity to say that lie while sitting right next to Will? The same boy who went missing that day and was trapped in the upside down and hunted by monsters for a week?? Furthermore, it was certainly not love at first sight. Mike plans to send El away the morning after he finds her, basically because she's getting in the way of his plans to find Will. After she shows that she has superpowers, Mike lets her stay, but tells Lucas that they need her as a weapon to fight whatever took Will. He says, "do you really want to face the demogorgan with your wrist rocket?" How is any of this love at first sight? When El took Mike to the quarry and he saw Will's "body," he slapped El's hand away, yelled at her, and left her without a way back to his house. That certainly doesn't seem like love to me, but idk. 🤪

Everything Mike said just doesn't make sense with his character arc. He's afraid El won't need him anymore? That he's replaceable? And this is after she writes him nearly everyday, then cries and begs him to tell her that he loves her. He didn't feel needed then? Not when he had absolutely no reason to not say it back (if his monologue is true, which, we know it isnt)?

What was the "truth" Mike was afraid to tell El? That he loves her?? That's exactly what she wanted to hear. Why couldn't he say it when she needed him the most? Then he can conveniently say it when she's on death's door, has her powers back, and may not even be able to hear him??

Mike didn't show any romantic interest in El when she was without her powers. The kiss at the end of S3, his confused expression after she told him he loves her, his fake california demeanor, and being unable to say he loves her when she's sobbing and begging him to. It's only when she got her powers back that Mike could be convinced to tell her his feelings. This just makes him look like an absolute asshole for no reason.

Why was a character with such potential in S1-2 completely massacred in vol 2? Why did his whole character arc become being "El's boyfriend"? What happened to main character Mike who would do anything for his friends? This isn't the Mike who sat on El's bed while she sobbed about his lack of feelings. This isn't the Mike who ignored Will sobbing next to him in the van. And this certainly isn't the Mike who cruelly stated in front of Will that the day Will went missing is when his own life began.

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

Jason is ruining me this season because despite all the bad shit he’s done I just want to hug him & let him know he is wanted 😫

Okay but like what if Crane actually just left Jason at Snowy Cones tied to the chair and the Titans get him back or something like that somehow they get him away from Crane & back and there’s a fight about what to do with him (mainly Gar & reader fighting to like at least get him clean before doing anything else) and idk just something soft with Jason detoxing and reader helping him and showing him people do care about him 🥺

THIS 😭

➣ pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

➣ fluff / angst

➣ word count: 1.2k

come join the titans sleepover!

Jason looked horrible.

You hadn't seen him since he left San Francisco with Rose, and though that was months ago, you hadn't stop thinking about him. You were mad, to say the least, but all of that was pushed aside when you heard the devastating news about him, one that almost broke you.

Redhood was the worst thing to become of Jason. You felt helpless and so aggravated that he was doing such things, but at the same time, you knew it was not his fault. It was Crane's, and everyone knew it too.

Tonight's mission was to take down Crane and 'Redhood's' mission to distribute the anti-fear drug, putting all your energy into fighting the guards. Perhaps it was your anger towards Jason that got you through. He had become the person that he solemnly swore he'd never become. But here he is.

But as your nearly teary eyes gaze sullenly at his sunken face, which is wet with drool and god knows what else, you know the right thing to do.

"Jesus Christ," Gar mumbles as he stands beside you, looking at the mess of a boy Crane left behind.

"We need to get him out of here," you glance over at him. He nods in agreement, unable to peel his eyes away.

"Tell me what we need to do,"

"Guys, stop." Dick cautions, putting his hands on either of your shoulders. Gar and you look at each other before glancing back at Dick. "It could be a trap."

"We can't just leave him here!" You shriek in disbelief.

"We don't know what Crane has up his sleeve right now. The best thing for us to do is to leave him here."

"Absolutely fucking not," Gar grits his teeth, knuckles almost clenching in a fist. "He's coming with us."

Jason coughs himself awake, eyes rolling as he slips in and out of consciousness. You crouch beside him, taking his hand in yours.

"Jason, can you hear me?" You ask softly, ignoring Dick's sigh of discontentment from behind you. Jason groans, eyes slowly dragging up to meet yours.

"[y/n]," he slurs with a raspy voice. You gulp and pull yourself together, knowing that now is not the time to have a breakdown.

"Yes, darling, it's me. We're gonna get you out of here, okay?"

"Hey, buddy, you doing alright?" Gar kneels on the other side of him. You run out to the car, only to return with a wet cloth and further bickering from Gar and Dick.

"We're at least cleaning him up," you snarl at him before crouching beside Jason. In your head, you count to ten, trying to find anything to distract your eyes from pricking with tears. God, he really does look awful up close. You dab his chin, wiping off the drool that drips from the corner of his mouth.

"Uh, what is going here?" Kory asks with Conner and Blackfire behind her. She stops in her tracks when she notices you and Gar, tending to Jason with such care, a sense of fear runs over her.

"I'm trying to warn them, but they're not listening," Dick murmurs to her.

"Guys, no, stop it. We need to go," she tries and pulls you away from Jason.

"Get off of me!" You almost yell, swatting her away before putting the cloth down. You move behind him and help Gar untie the rope from around Jason's waist.

"Stop and think for a second!" Kory snaps. "He could be a weapon; you don't know that."

"Yeah, and you don't either," your voice slick with venom. You were so sick of everyone blaming Jason for everything when none of them even remotely believed that they had something to do with his meltdown. "We are getting him out of here. End of story."

"[y/n]…" Dick sighs, approaching you and Gar slowly.

"No, enough. I've had it with all of you giving up on Jason like he's some piece of disposable waste. What was your speech a year ago about not giving up on family? You really seem to live up to that, now, don't you," Gar snaps.

"I-"Dick sighs again. "I know, okay. But as I said before, we all know he's working under the guise of Crane. We don't know if Jason is just a ploy, okay? It's safer—"

"For who? You or Jason? Because from the way I see it, Jason is being manipulated. You said it yourself. The best thing we can do is save him now before it's really too late," you sigh. "Now, can we please stop fighting and help him into the car, for fucks sake," you roll your eyes, having enough of this bickering. The sooner you all get out, the better.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Barbara helps you hook Jason up to an IV drip. He lays in his bed, so entirely out of it, you're not even sure if he's ever going to be okay again.

"Are you okay?" Babs consoles, knowing that this has certainly not easy for you. She knew you have been taking this the hardest out of everyone. Being one of Jason's closest friends, your time in Gotham has been spent grieving and wishing you were all in San Francisco and normal again.

Your lip trembled, eyes overflowing with tears that wet your cheeks. You practically collapse on the chair beside the bed, and Babs pulls you into her.

"I hate seeing him like this," you sob, arms stretching around her. She rubs your back, letting out gentle coos to help you calm down.

"You should go join the others," you smile weakly, pulling away and wiping your eyes.

"Are you sure? I can stay here if you need me to?"

"It's okay. Please, go enjoy tonight's successes."

She rubs your arm, apology laced in her touch before she makes her way to the kitchen, closing the door behind her. Your head drops onto the mattress beside his body. How could you have let this happen? Was this your fault too?

“[y/n]?” Jason coughs, and you swear you've never lifted your head faster.

"Hey," you smile weakly, taking his hand in yours. "How're you doing?"

"Oh, you know, pretty damn fucking great if you ask me," he scoffs. You don't mean to, but a minor chuckle releases from your throat.

"Here, you should probably have some water," you hand him a glass, and he looks at it with caution. "I haven't done anything to it if that's what you're concerned about."

He hums before gulping it all down.

"Jason," your lips trembles once again. "I'm so sorry."

Jason doesn't say anything. He rests back onto the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why're you doing this? Don't think I'm coming back to you guys because I'm not."

"Because I care."

"Do you?" He turns to look at you.

"You know," you chuckle, looking down at your fingers. "I had the biggest crush on you. Of course, I never had the guts to say anything; you were too special of a friend for me to ruin that."

"How do I know that you're not lying?"

"Because I'm the one who saved you back there. I wasn't going to leave you, I would never to that."

There is a moment of silence that surpasses you both; neither of you knew what to say. Was he to thank you or be mad at you?

"I should probably let you rest," you cough slightly before standing up.

"Wait," Jason takes your hand in his. "Stay. Please?"

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[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 7 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Chapter 7 is here!!

Title: Succession Chapter 7

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language 

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter 7

You awoke from your nap feeling rested.  You didn’t open your eyes just yet and you let the hangover of sleep fade away.  Extra sleep was just what you needed to relax from the last 24 hours.  Or had it been a few days?  A week?  You had no idea what day it was, let alone the exact time.  You didn’t wear a wristwatch and the only thing you had to tell time was your iPhone...which was probably all broken to hell amongst the crash.   You sighed sleepily before being aware of a presence behind you.  The dip in the bed along with the knowledge that Heisenberg had locked the door behind him startled you.  

You turned over with a gasp to find Heisenberg on the other side of the bed.  He sat lounging back on his pillow that was propped up against the headboard.  His coat and buttoned up shirt had been discarded, his tight undershirt the only thing covering his torso.  His hat, gloves, and sunglasses were gone as well.  He puffed on his cigar, his left leg lying straight among the covers, and his right foot flat on the bed.  He rested his right hand on his knee in between puffs of his cigar.  He looked perfectly content and relaxed.

“Sleep well, pussycat?” he asked after expelling a cloud of cigar smoke into the air.  He looked down at you and smiled knowingly as he rested his arm atop his knee.  You relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief.

“You scared me.  I thought you had gone somewhere in the factory…” you responded, laying your head back on the pillow.

“I did...two hours ago.  You’ve been asleep for a while…”

“Really?” you murmured.  The only clock was on Heisenberg’s nightstand and you couldn’t see it past his hulking body.  You were so disoriented from not knowing the time that you had no idea which way was up.  

“I didn’t want to wake you.  You look so fucking beautiful as you sleep,” Heisenberg complimented with a coy smile on his face.  You rolled your eyes and brought the blanket further up your body, shivering slightly.

“I’m cold…” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself.  There wasn’t a fire burning in the fireplace yet and the cold from the outside seemed to slide its way into the factory.  You were wearing a long sleeved shirt with a pair of drawstring pants, but the cold still managed to seep in.  Goosebumps rose all over your body and you trembled visibly.

“Come here…” Heisenberg said, putting his cigar in the ashtray on his nightstand.  You shimmied back against him, desperate for warmth.  He slid down under the blanket and pulled you to him, your back against his front.

“Mmmm...you’re trembling…” Heisenberg whispered against your ear.  His arms held you tighter and you slowly began to relax back into him.  You hadn’t been held in so long and, despite the circumstances, it felt good to be held.  His body temperature was warm.  His left arm was around your shoulders while the other wrapped around your waist and held you close.  It felt nice...really, really nice…

You were unable to stop yourself when you slowly rolled your ass back against him.  Heisenberg’s arms tightened around your body and he let out a breathy chuckle.  “Do you know what you’re doing there, pussycat?” he asked gruffly.

You kept your eyes closed, bit your lower lip, and rolled your ass back again.  The memory of earlier that day came back to you.  His hips trapping yours against the wall and feeling his cock through his pants...it made you wet again.  It was obvious the two of you had an undeniable attraction to each other.  Yes, you were locked away in his quarters in the factory and yes, he was not allowing you to call for help from the outside world...but god dammit, this man riled you up in ways you had never felt before.

Heisenberg removed his arm from around your waist and slowly slid his hand to your hip.  His fingers squeezed you and pulled you closer.  You heard him moan under his breath and it made you moan softly.  Heisenberg chuckled as his hand went to your thigh and pulled your leg aside.  Heat crept up your face as his index finger and thumb caught the string of your pants and slowly pulled the knot free.  You lifted your head from the pillow to look down just as his hand slid down the front of your pants.

“Karl…” you moaned, tilting your head back.  Heisenberg growled and started kissing along your neck. You shivered at the feel of his full lips against your flesh.  His hot breath hit your skin before you felt his teeth lightly nipping at you.  His index and middle finger spread your pussy lips and pushed lower.  You arched your back and rolled your ass against his groin.  At the feel of your wetness, he moved his fingers to your clit and started to rub.

“God damn, Y/N…” Heisenberg moaned, his lips at your ear, “...you’re so fucking wet…”

You lifted your hand and moved it behind his head, running your fingers through his hair.  His breath in your ear made your skin erupt in goosebumps.  You bucked your hips against his hand while his fingers continued to rub you.  Turning your head towards him, he let you roll onto your back, your head lying on his opposite arm while he continued to finger your wet cunt.

“I haven’t been touched like this in a long time…” you panted as you looked up into his eyes.  He smiled down at you, lips hovering over yours, his brown and gray hair framing his face.  You lifted your head in order to kiss him, but he pulled back, chuckling at your desperate need for his lips.  “Karl...please…” you whimpered.

“Not yet…” he murmured, his eyes gazing into yours, “...I’ll kiss you soon...in due time.”  You whimpered once again, bucking your hips against his hand.  “And no cumming…” he added, “...do not cum until I tell you to cum…”

You cursed under your breath and lifted your left hand to the headboard, gripping one of the railings.  Your right hand wrapped around his wrist as you tried to buck yourself harder, ravenous for more of his fingers.  “Sshhhhhh…” Heisenberg whispered as he pressed his lips to your forehead, “...be a good little pussycat…”

You gripped the headboard railing harder as your thighs spread wider.  Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes.  His fingers tortured your clit, going from slow to fast circles, and going from soft to hard pressure and back again.  Karl Heisenberg was driving you fucking insane.

“When I make you cum, I want you to scream my name…” Heisenberg ordered, moving his fingers faster, circling your clit with your wetness, “...scream my name, Y/N...let me hear it....”

Your left hand flew down to his wrist, joining your right hand, desperate to assist his ministrations.  You bucked against his hand, the overwhelming pleasure building.  Your thighs were splayed wide and you moved your hips faster, hopelessly chasing your release.

“Karl...Karl...oh fuck...Karl…” you moaned.  Heisenberg chuckled softly, his tongue sliding over his lips.  His eyes bored holes into yours.  You took in every inch of his face...his piercing eyes, prominent nose, and full lips.  Every nerve ending in your body wanted this man.

“Good girl.  Now...cum for me.  Be a good girl and cum for me…”

You awoke from your nap with a start, sitting up straight in bed.  You looked around the room, your eyes finally coming to rest on Heisenberg.  The door to his room was opened wide and he stood leaning back against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, and an amused smile on his face.

“My word, doll face,” he marveled, “that sounded like quite a nap you just had.  What, pray tell, were you dreaming about?”

Your hair was in disarray and the blanket had been kicked to the floor.  The flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks and you panicked at the thought of what you might have done or said as you slept.

“Umm...wha-what was I saying?” you asked sheepishly.  Heisenberg tossed his head back and laughed uproariously.

“You weren’t say anything...but those moans and groans...pussycat, I would sell my soul to have been able to peer into that dream…”

Your pulse calmed a bit, thankful that you weren’t calling out his name.  But that smug son of a bitch...standing there and listening to you moaning and watching you writhing on his bed...he would never let you live that down.  You let out a defeated sigh and fell back on the pillow, covering your face with your hands.

*

“You can sit down over there,” Heisenberg said, motioning to a rusted metal chair across the room.  You pulled it closer to a table and set your book down, making yourself comfortable.  You watched as he pulled a stool up to a table away from where you were sitting, taking a seat and beginning to rifle through stacks of papers.

Heisenberg could tell that you were getting stir crazy locked away in his private quarters, so he gave you the decision to accompany him to his office as he conducted his work.  When you asked what he was working on, he responded with a curt “none of your business.”  You glared at him, but decided that a change in scenery would be better than being cooped up in the same room again.

You opened your book and began to read.  Soon you were lost in your story, the only sounds being distant clanging of metal and chains and sporadic machines chugging along.  It provided nice ambient background noise and allowed you to concentrate on reading.

The sudden loud sound of a propeller blade made you jump with a start.  You looked over at Heisenberg and heard him sigh with impatience.

“SHUT UP!” he yelled loudly.

“That wasn’t me!” you spat back at him, giving the back of his head an incredulous look.

“I wasn’t talking to you…” he muttered, continuing to write on a piece of paper.  Well, who the fuck were you talking to, you thought, it’s only me and you in the room!

Another twenty minutes passed and the two of you were quiet and contentedly toiling away at your respective projects when the loud propeller sound rang out again.  Heisenberg stood up fast, his stool falling over onto the floor.  He marched to an opening in the floor next to your table.

“I SAID SHUT UP!!!” he yelled down into the hole.  As if his outburst never happened, Heisenberg walked back to his table, uprighted his stool, and sat back down.  You looked from the floor to Heisenberg and back again.

“What’s down there?” you asked softly, not wanting to piss him off any more than that noise already did.

“You don’t want to know,” he answered, continuing to work on the task before him, keeping his back to you.

“I kinda do…” you said, turning your body towards his direction.

You watched as Heisenberg slowly lifted his head and dropped his pencil to the table.  “I can drop you down there if you want to find out…” he growled, keeping his back to you.  

His gravelly voice shut you up.  You remembered the array of bodies that were in this place...god only knows what could be down there.  Turning your attention back to your book, you kept your mouth shut.

After an hour of reading and you taking in the views around the room, and that included Heisenberg, the man finally finished his tasks and turned to you.

“The sun will be setting soon,” Heisenberg said, “what do you say I make us dinner and we take it outside and enjoy the fresh air for a bit?”

You looked over and stared at him in slight disbelief.  Dinner and watching the sunset?  This man was a complete enigma.  Just yesterday, he locked you away in a cold, dank room and then brought you something warm to eat.  Earlier today, he was yelling at you for walking off to pet the Duke’s horse and the next he was giving you chocolate.  One minute, he had you against the wall with his hand on your throat, the next he was grinding against you and leaning in to kiss you…

Nope...you stopped yourself from thinking about anything remotely sexual about this man.  You chalked your feelings up to Stockholm Syndrome and the trashy romance novels you had read over the years.  No way were you going to fall down that rabbit hole.  But the thought of dinner did make your stomach growl...and taking in more of the beautiful mountains did sound like a better view than anything in the factory.

“I would like that very much…”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Turns of Phrase

Prompt: I'd like you to consider: all the sides in the mindscape have the "way too literal" problem, like for example, Virgil actually grows taller when his anxiety is heightened, Patton actually grows wings when Thomas has a 'heart aflutter', e.c.t. But Roman just has a huge stack of negative ones. Creative block, bruised ego, shackled creativity, e.c.t. And then there's h/c when somebody (Logan) sees 👀👀

Thanks for the prompt babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues, Roman whump

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count:  5722

 This is Roman’s fault. Really. It is. He’s the one who works the closest with the Imagination, which means he’s got control over how Thomas interacts with his own imagination, which means that he’s got control over how Thomas sees the Sides.

 So yeah. This is his fault.

‘Heart all aflutter.’ ‘Heightened anxiety.’ ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’ All the little innocuous phrases that are just turns of phrase, not supposed to be literal, well…they got into Thomas’s head when he was younger, and since, the Imagination has never quite gotten rid of them. Shouldn’t be too bad, right, this should be something they can deal with.

 And for the most part, they do.

Patton wears the hoodie tied around his shoulders to block the chill from the slits sewn in the back of all of his shirts in case the wings decide to pop out again. When they do, everyone crowds around to make sure he doesn’t fly off into the sky or accidentally twist one. The feathers are the softest things you can imagine and work great for stuffing pillows or plushies.

 Virgil’s clothes are made of stretchy, baggy material and the doorways are much, much higher than they need to be. There’s a special cupboard tucked high up in the pantry that just has Virgil’s comfort foods in them so he can reach comfortably when he’s tall.

 And, well…there’s a reason Janus wears such a long cloak.

 For the most part, these are just minor inconveniences. Listen, when you live in a completely imaginary world where you can summon anything you need and change anything you don’t like with a snap of your fingers, things like new clothes or snacks are easy.

 Then there’s Roman.

 Roman, who is tied most closely to the Imagination.

 Roman, who represents not just Creativity, but romance, motivation, desire.

 Roman. The Ego.

 The problem with throwing around these types of phrases is how easy it becomes to dismiss them. And for Thomas, who has a creative profession, that’s good. For Thomas.

 Not so good for Roman.

 “Hey, you’ve been having some trouble getting ideas out lately, you doing okay?”

 “Yeah, I’m just going through a bit of a creative block at the moment.”

 Roman’s fists ache as he pounds on the door, heaving sobs trailing off into hitched gasps as he slumps against the unyielding wood. As a desperate last resort, he throws himself at the door, barely making it shudder in its frame. It’s as if he weighs nothing, not an ounce, unable to make so much as a goddamn dent in the world around him.

 “Let me—let me out, please, let me out, I gotta—I want out,” he sobs, over and over, as his room grows smaller and smaller, the walls pressing in around him, blank, sterile, cold, “I wanna—out, let me out, let me out, let me out please—“

 He’s not even in his room anymore. He’s in a pure white cage, on the wrong side of a door that will not open.

 “Dude, like…reign it in a little bit.”

 “You sure?”

 “Yeah. That’s…like, way too much.”

 “I dunno, I think it feels weird if we weren’t doing this.”

 “C’mon, it won’t kill you to shackle your creativity a little.”

 Roman wakes up to the quiet clinking of metal against metal. He goes to wipe his face and a bolt of pain shoots through his arm. The shackles spread him so far his chest aches, wincing as he tries to turn just a little to avoid the rush of agony that would come from having his arm trapped in the wrong position. At least he was lying down this time, and he’s on his bed. He isn’t being forced to stand the whole time, strung up on the ceiling.

 They’re so cold.

 The shackles sap the warmth from his body bit by bit, draining it until the weight of the cold pressing down onto his chest is enough to make him gasp. On instinct, he pulls, trying to get a little more of himself wrapped up, warm, safe, but the chains barely make a groan as they wrench him back apart. He grits his teeth and holds still.

 He learned not to try and break these. He used to rage and slam against them like a brute, trying to pull their fastenings out of some mystical holder, embodied in his wall, only to come away with bleeding and scraped wrists from his pains, rubbed raw and chafed horribly by the cruel shackles.

 For the most part, he’s able to keep the others from noticing. They can’t hear a thing when he’s trapped in the creative block. He’s careful to always wear long sleeves to hide the scrapes and burns from the shackles. They don’t know the true extent of what happens to him when Thomas decides he doesn’t want his creativity.

 But he can’t hide all of them.

 ‘Bruised ego.’

 Patton knows. Patton somehow always figures things out and doesn’t tell anyone, least of all Roman. But sure enough, after the audition, Patton showed up outside of Roman’s door and knocked, quietly asking to be let in.

 Roman had let him, splattered as he was with blues and purples and greens and yellows, all the colors that didn’t belong to him, and yet here they were, painted on him. He’d kept his undershirt on, letting Patton feed him the soup that was sure to end with Roman lying on his back in the bathroom, panting, until the bowl had run dry and Roman’s smile had come back.

 After Patton had gone, the smile had slid off, the paint cracked and chipped. Roman had stood, leaning against the bed for stability, and made his way slowly, oh, so, slowly, to the bathroom.

 Getting his shirt off had been agony. Every time he moved skin had stretched, bruises had protested, even his muscles cried out. The undershirt was soaked in sweat and a light sheen had clung to Roman’s body as he stood there, panting, wincing in the mirror. He couldn’t look.

 That had been the last time it had gotten very bad. Very bad.

 They only ever seemed to notice when it was very bad.

 His prince costume hides the shackle marks. His undershirt hid the bruises. No one cared to look for him when he was trapped in the creative block. No one could see. No one wanted to see.

 No one knew.

 Roman’s been lucky lately.

 They’ve all been happening one at a time. The block never has shackles strapped to the wall. The shackles are never clasped around bruises spilling beneath his skin. The bruises are never from both beating on a door and from the outside world. He can deal with them if they’re like this. One at a time.

 He’s had a few close calls, though. He almost missed a meeting with Logan because the block had him trapped. It squeezed him so tight it felt as if he hadn’t any room to breathe, not until the door and opened a crack and he’d hurled himself out, panting harshly, rushing to Logan’s. He was caught at his desk recently too. The shackles had formed and dragged him over to the corner where he’d bitten his lip to try and stay quiet as he desperately tried to draw himself away. He’d accidentally made too grand a gesture and his sleeve had ridden up, exposing the edge of a mark or bruise and he’d have to pull it back down quick enough so that no one would notice. And so far, it’s worked.

 No one has noticed.

 And what would he say? That this is just some dumb stupid thing he has to deal with? The others know about this whole ‘taking things too literally problem,’ look at Patton, look at Virgil, look at Janus. They all understand and they receive the same amount of attention Roman does. Honestly, they’ve been receiving what they’re entitled to. Their stuff actually runs the risk of harming Thomas. Fire, wings, banging your head, sure, that’s fine, but they—look.

 Having your heart flutter signifies great emotions, the potential for love, you should pay attention to your emotions!

 Heightened anxiety? It’s not great! It means we should be listening to Virgil and what’s going on, what’s upsetting Thomas, how to help.

 And everyone should always be worried about spontaneously combusting pants.

And even if they did find out, what is Roman supposed to say? That it’s his fault they all have these issues? That Thomas’s psyche takes certain liberties with the hard-and-fast rules of what happens to metaphysical people? It’s his fault, after all, he’s the conduit. It’s fine. He can handle this stuff. It’s all fine.

 He should’ve known his luck would run out.

 Roman blinks awake to feel the walls pressing in on him, tighter, tighter, tighter. His breath catches in his throat.

 No.

 No, no, no, he’d been doing so well, so well, they’d just had a conversation about how he’d been so good, the ideas had been good, he’d had—he’d had so many he was ready to work on, he just needed to—

 Roman squeezes his eyes shut, racking his brain. He knows he has ideas. He had them a little while ago. It wasn’t that long. They can’t have vanished so quickly. Wait, what time is it? How did they—how long has he been here? What is—how long has it been? Have the others realized he’s here yet?

 What if they look for him and they think he won’t come out? What if they start to hate him because they can’t find him? What if he can never get out again? What if they realized they never needed him in the first place?

 He—he’s not wrong, he can’t be wrong, he has to be right, he has to—he has to find a way out of here.

 Quickly, Roman squeezes his eyes even tighter, mouth making random shapes as he tries to think. If he can just think of a really good idea, he’ll get out. If he just thinks, if he just does his job, if he’s really good he’ll get out. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this. He can—

  Clink, clink, clink.

 No.

 No!

 Roman snarls as the shackles encase his wrists, forcing to his knees, still crouched in this room that is too small, too pale, too awful. He lunges for the door as he hears the chains slowly start to tighten, their long lengths slipping over and over each other in coils.

 The chains pull taut and he’s suspended there, in the dank air, snarling like a mad dog at a door that is just out of his reach.

 For the first time in a long time, he slams against the chains, raging and bloody as he thrashes back and forth trying to just get to the door—

  Roman, you’re on thin fucking ice.

  Look I don’t wanna just hate a side but roman you royally fucked up bud

  Yeah I’m definitely mad at Roman

 Roman barely suppresses a whine when he realizes where the comments are coming from.

 His nose breaks open and blood pours down his face. His eyes swell and darken until he can only squint through it. One of his fingers breaks and the shackle pinches.

  Roman I have revoked your rights.

  Roman shut the FUCK UP challenge please

  After one line making fun of janus is enough to be cancelled, Roman

 Even without looking down, he knows red and purple are blooming across his ribs. Roman winces pain as he howls again, trying frantically to get to the door, he’ll wrench his arms out of their sockets if he needs to—

  I just hate roman!!! i don’t need a deep reason to hate roman, or anyone else

  oh boi did Princey drop to least favorite side REAL FUCKING QUICK

  It’s not that I don’t despise Roman he’s just never been my favourite. He’s too prideful, rude and while he does have his insecurities the way he hides them makes me uncomfortable since it’s at the expense of other characters. His treatment of the other sides is so awful.

 …is he really that awful? Is…does he…is this…

 Is this how it’s supposed to be?

  I'm gonna spread my anti-roman doctrine. Fuck Roman. Hate that man

  I genuinely hate Roman so. Fucking. Much. Like, can't stand him. Fuck him, I hate him

  It’s always roman-hating hours.

 A dry sob chokes its way out of Roman’s throat as he curls in on himself, another bruise leaving him gasping on the floor like a gutted fish. The chains let him fall to his knees, chest bared to the merciless door. He coughs. Blood flies out of his mouth and spittle drips down his chin. He coughs again. And again. And again. It hurts. Everything hurts.

 He coughs.

 The room presses in on him.

 The shackles trap him.

 Bruises bloom over his body.

 He coughs.

 This is all his fault, isn’t it? He’s the one in charge of the Imagination. He’s the one who makes sure the sides exist and can interact with Thomas. He’s the one who controls how they respond to turns of phrase.

 He’s the one who’s awful to the others. He’s the one who didn’t tell them the truth. He’s the one stuck in this room, in these chains, taking a beating from words and thoughts that he can’t see.

 This is his fault.

 And he doesn’t know if he can fix it.

 Roman gives up.

———————————————————

“Has anyone seen Roman?”

 Patton looks up from the floor as Virgil rolls over. “No, I haven’t. Virgil?”

 Virgil sniffs and shakes his head. “You asked Remus?”

 Logan frowns. “I can’t find them anywhere. Do you know if—“

 “Where the fuck is my brother?”

 “Nevermind, I found him,” Logan mumbles as he turns just fast enough to avoid Remus barreling into him. “I was just coming to ask you.”

 “He was supposed to meet me by the Imagination,” Remus says, bouncing up and down, “we were gonna go exploring. He hasn’t been by all day. Where are you hiding him?”

 “I’m not hiding him,” Virgil yawns, “and neither’s Pat.”

 “Nope! No princes here!”

 “Pocket Protector?”

 “No, I need to ask him about tomorrow.”

 “Ugh.” Remus throws himself down on the couch. “Where’s Snakey? Maybe he knows.”

 “What do I know?”

 “Ah.” Logan turns to see Janus striding out from the shadows near the staircase. “We seem to be unable to locate Roman.”

 Janus raises an eyebrow and flicks a speck of dust from his gloves. “What an unfortunate situation. My deepest apologies.”

 “So you don’t know where he is.”

 “Of course I don’t, why would I?” Janus rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you’ve checked everywhere for him.”

 Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Janus…please.”

 “Have any of you even tried his room?”

 “Of course we have, that’s where I looked first.”

 Janus shrugs. “Then I guess our little prince has wandered away. What a shame.”

 Virgil rolls his eyes. “Maybe he just stepped out for a minute. Why don’t you go look again, L, we’ll check down here.”

 “Oh, will we?”

 “J, I swear—“

 Logan quickly heads back up the stairs as Virgil and Janus start bickering. He turns the corner and is soon faced with Roman’s big red door. He reaches out to knock.

 “Roman? Are you in here?”

 Silence. Logan sighs and goes to turn away when he hears it.

 He stops.

 Goes back.

 “Roman?”

 He puts his ear to the door.

 A soft gasp.

“Roman, can you open the door please?”

 “L-L—Lo—“

 Logan swallows heavily. “Roman, I’m coming inside.”

 “L-Logan…”

 Logan pushes open the door.

 He can feel his face go sickly pale.

 Roman is lying on the ground, collapsed in a pool of what looks like blood. His face is swollen, his nose broken, his mouth barely forming the shapes to say Logan’s name. His prince costume is mangled. His wrists are rubbed raw. Even from this far away Logan can see the bruises forming all over his body.

 “Roman!”

 There are shouts from downstairs. The others are worried. Good. Logan’s going to need all the help he can get. He just has to move first.

 Oh, Roman…

 “L? L, what’s going on up there?”

 “First aid,” Logan gasps, then clears his throat, “we need the first aid kit! Roman’s hurt!”

 “What? How’d he—he hasn’t even been in the Imagination yet today!”

 “We can figure that out when we’re up there, Remus, go go go!”

 By the time the others are already rushing up the stairs, Logan has already crouched down next to Roman’s head, trying to figure out the best way to get him up, off the floor, or at the very least figure out what happened.

 “Stay with me, Roman,” he murmurs, petting Roman’s head as his other hand starts to carefully test where it might be hurting, “stay with me, come on…”

 “Lo? Lo, are you in here?”

 “No, wait, don’t—“

 Patton’s cry of dismay quickly followed by Virgil’s curse means he’s too late to warn them. Logan looks up to see their faces drop in absolute shock.

 “Where are the others?”

 “Uh…” Virgil tears his gaze away from Roman’s crumpled figure. “Remus said he…he has some stuff that would help.”

 “And I am of course more than eager to see what our favorite little prince has gotten himself into this time,” Janus drawls, still out of sight, “I’m positively brimming with anticipation.”

 Patton still hasn’t recovered. Virgil carefully takes the first aid kit from his hands and rushes it to Logan. An instant later, Janus appears in the doorway.

 “My, my, Patton, you look so startled, what could possibly…”

 Janus trails off as he finally spots Roman. His eyes widen as he takes in the bruises, the blood, the marks of what look like prison cuffs?

 “Oh, god…” Logan blinks and Janus is crouched beside them, his hands hovering over Roman’s broken form as he starts crooning to the prince.

 “Oh, honey, what happened to you,” he murmurs, his hands starting to pull away the fabric cutting into Roman’s throat, “you poor, poor thing…”

 “Got it.”

 Remus appears in a flash, crouching down as well as Janus and Logan start to help Roman unwind from the bloody mess he’s in. Logan glances over; it’s a kit that has more medical supplies than the first aid kit. Bandages, he can see antiseptic, surgical towels…

 He catches Remus’s eye and they exchange a nod.

 “Where does he need to go,” Janus asks as they start to get Roman upright, “you want him downstairs?”

 “Let’s get him to our bathroom, J,” Virgil suggests, carefully getting his arms around the prince’s shoulders.

 “Do you think it’s safe to sink with him?”

 “Presumably he had to sink out to get back to his room, but I’m not sure it would be wise.”

 “So we’ll carry him,” Virgil says firmly, “all of us.”

 As it turns out, Remus and Janus can help Virgil just fine. Logan snatches up Remus’s kit as Patton grabs the first aid kit, hustling down the corridor to keep up with the others.

 “Lo, what happened?”

 “I don’t know,” Logan mutters back, “but I…I don’t think it was…the Imagination’s been closed all day, hasn’t it?”

 “That’s what I thought too. You don’t think—“

 “I don’t know, Patton, I…”

 Patton’s firm grip on his arm speaks volumes as they finally get to the bathroom.

 The tile is already warm as the others carefully lay Roman down in the big place near the edge of the shower. Logan takes a moment to check what they might need.

 The bathroom is one big open space with a tub in one corner, a large walk-in shower area at the other, and two sinks with a wide counter. Patton and Remus have already started setting up the first aid kit as Janus pulls on a different pair of gloves. Virgil still has Roman’s head in his hands, murmuring softly to him.

 “Is he awake?”

 Virgil shakes his head as Logan sits down. “I can’t tell. He’s looking around but I—he’s not saying anything.”

 “That is not completely unexpected,” Logan murmurs, “we have to get him out of his clothes. They’re making it harder for him to breathe.”

 “Someone needs to stay by his head,” Remus calls, “in case he wakes up and starts freaking out.”

 “I’ve got him.” Sure enough, Janus slips two of his hands gently under Roman’s head as he unclips the back of his collar. “Shh, shh, easy, sweetie, you’re safe now.”

 Virgil scoots back and starts tugging on his hoodie strings. Patton, still hovering by the medical supplies, catches it.

 “Hey, Virge,” he says, shooting a quick nod at Logan, “why don’t we go make something to eat? Something small, and something to drink.”

 “Yeah…yeah that’s a good idea.”

 As the two of them leave, Remus kneels by Roman’s feet and curses. “We’re gonna have to cut them off.”

 “You mean cut the rest of them off,” Janus mutters, “what happened?”

 “You think I’m not beating myself up asking that same thing?”

 “We have to get Roman stable,” Logan says quickly, “and that means we have to see what—“

 “The damage is,” Remus growls.

 “Quite.”

 “Alright. Be careful by his wrists.”

 “We will.”

 “Jan if you drop his head I swear to—“

 “I won’t, I promise.”

 “…I know.”

 “You’re worried about your brother,” Logan whispers as they start peeling the clothes away, “we understand.”

 Janus keeps his promise, cradling Roman’s head as the work to get the rest of his prince costume off. Under any other circumstance, Logan admits this might actually be read as amusing. Peeling Roman out of his clothes, however, has never been less devastating.

 Every inch they pull back reveals more bruises. Roman’s torso is warm, throbbing, carpeted with horrible wounds. Every so often a piece will stick and Roman winces, prompting Janus to stroke his face carefully, murmuring reassurances that they’re here, everything’s okay, Roman’s safe now.

 Remus chucks bruise cream at Logan and they start, methodically applying the cream and bandages. Janus gives them an extra hand where they need it, while keeping up the constant litany of reassurances. Logan comes away confident that nothing is broken, just very badly bruised.

 “So what now?”

 “He has to rest.” Logan pulls off the gloves, running his hand over the ground to make sure they haven’t spilled anything. “I…I don’t know how long that will be.”

 “I don’t want to leave him.”

 They look around, eyes wide at the strangled whisper coming out of Remus. Remus stares down at Roman’s bruised form, thankfully clear of blood now, his hands trembling as they rest on his knees. Remus looks up at them, his eyes glistening.

 “The last time I left him like this it was bad.” He swallows and looks back down. “I’m not leaving my brother.”

 Logan looks at Roman. Brave, strong, sweet, kind Roman. Bruised, scared, exhausted, broken Roman. His hand tightens and without thinking he tucks a stray hair behind Roman’s ear.

 “He hates it when his hair is out of place,” he murmurs as Janus raises an eyebrow at him.

 “We’re not leaving our prince,” Janus says firmly, glancing back at Remus. “Would you like to come sit up here with us?”

 Remus shakes his head. “If something comes through that door trying to get him,” he says in a low voice that Logan has never heard before, “it’s going to have to get through me first.”

 Logan nods. They take up their watch. Remus’s hands twitch every so often, and Logan sees him lay his hand on an unbruised part of Roman’s ankle when they do with a tenderness that takes him a little aback. Janus can’t seem to stop running his hands through Roman’s hair, making comforting noises every time Roman winces as he breathes.

 Logan, well…Logan is trying desperately to figure out what happened.

  Roman hasn’t been in the Imagination today. Remus was waiting and he hadn’t seen him.

Roman hasn’t been seen by anyone else all day.

The last place Roman was seen was in his room.

No one else has been in Roman’s room today.

 “Logan,” Janus calls softly, “Logan, you’re shaking.”

 Logan looks down. Oh. So he is. He takes a deep breath and takes Janus’s offered hand. “I’m…thinking.”

 “About…?” Janus indicates Roman.

 He nods sharply. “I’m having trouble coming to anything but a most troubling conclusion.”

 “What?”

 Logan explains. Janus goes pale.

 “You don’t think…”

 “I don’t want to think that, no.”

 “R-ro-Bro,” Remus whispers, “oh, Ro-Bro, you gotta tell us something when you wake up.”

 He sniffles.

 “Please wake up, Ro-Bro. I gotta…I gotta kick your ass for blowing me off and getting into a fight without me, I gotta—you gotta tell me what kicked your ass so I can go put it in the fucking ground…” He sniffs again, his whole body tense, even as his hand remains gently on Roman. “You just gotta wake up, Ro.”

 After a little while longer, Virgil and Patton return carrying snacks and drinks. Remus doesn’t even look as Virgil sets his octopus water bottle at his elbow. Janus murmurs a thanks and eats a little. Logan eats and drains about half of his bottle. Virgil sits at Remus’s side, Patton at his other.

 “Has he woken up yet?”

 Remus shakes his head.

 “He’s probably just sleeping, Remus, he needs to rest.”

 “I know.”

 “Do we know what happened,” Virgil asks quietly, “at all?”

 Logan winces. “Well…”

 “…don’t like the way you said that.” Judging by Virgil’s expression, he likes it even less after Logan’s finished explaining.

 “Oh, shit.”

 Everyone’s gaze instantly snaps to Patton. Listen. Patton doesn’t curse. It’s a thing. When Patton curses it’s bad.

 “Patton?”

 “Roman…Roman has a thing,” Patton explains, “you know like…like my wings? Or how Virgil gets taller?”

 Virgil nods. “Yeah, okay, but those don’t…hurt us, why would Roman’s…”

 Janus is the next one to curse. “Of course…the bruised ego.”

 Patton nods sadly. “Roman takes, well, it’s not really his choice, Roman is forced to take the brunt of the negative reactions Thomas has. That’s part of his thing.”

 Logan’s eyes widen. “Wait, but if this has been happening since…well, since Thomas has had an ego, and we didn’t know about this, then…”

  How many times has this happened?

 Remus growls. “New rule: no one is allowed to fuck with Roman.”

 No one dares disagree. Logan scans over the injuries again. He frowns.

 “Hold on…some of these seem…consistent with that judgment, but then why…”

 A faint groaning sound snaps him out of his musings. A tense silence falls in the bathroom as Roman starts to stir in Janus’s hands.

 “Roman,” Logan calls softly, “Roman, can you hear me?”

 “L’gan?”

 “Yes, Roman, I’m right here. Don’t try and move too much right now, you’re very hurt.”

 Roman blinks up at them, his eyes focusing glassily on Janus, who smiles. He tucks another piece of hair away from Roman’s face.

 “Shh, shh, my prince, hold still,” he coos, “you’re awfully banged up, sweetie, just hold still…shh…”

 “J’nus? What’s…where is…” Roman’s face swivels back to Logan. “Where am I?”

 “You’re on the bathroom floor, Roman, we had to see to your injuries.”

 Roman’s eyes go wide and immediately all of them reach out to hold him still as he tries to move.

 “Shh, shh,” Janus shushes, “none of that now, sweetie, you’re hurt, calm down…”

 “I’m—I have to—“

 “You’re not going anywhere,” comes Remus’s voice from behind them.

 “Remus!”

 “What? He’s not!”

 “Yeah, but there’s no reason to scare the shit out of him.”

 “I can’t see,” Logan hears Roman’s frantic whisper as he turns to glance at the others, “I can’t—let me—“

 “Logan, is it safe for him to sit up?”

 Logan nods. “Just take it slow, nothing too fast. It will probably be the best if he can lean against someone.”

 “Jan—“

 “I’ve got you, sweetie, I’m not going anywhere.”

 When Roman is upright, his back against Janus’s chest, only then do Virgil and Patton relax the slightest bit. Remus doesn’t. Logan’s gaze switches anxiously between the two.

 “Remus—“ Roman swallows— “Re, are you—are you mad at me?”

 “A little.”

 Roman shrinks under Remus’s glare. “I’m sorry.”

 “Jeez, Ro, it’s not—I’m not mad at you like that,” Remus mumbles, “it’s mainly just—well, our thing is…you know, cat pile.”

 “You’re—you’re mad because you can’t lie on top of me right now?”

 “Yeah! It always makes you feel better! And now I can’t help you feel better!”

 “R-Re—“

 Remus lets out a wounded noise and surges forward, careful to avoid barreling into any of the others as he wraps his brother in a protective hug. Janus huffs lightly but stays upright. Roman’s eyes close and his head drops to rest against Remus’s.

 “I’m the only one allowed to fuck with you,” comes Remus’s muffled voice, “no one else.”

 “I know,” Roman whispers, “I know.”

 Logan swallows heavily. “Roman,” he prompts softly, “we aren’t mad at you. We won’t get angry with you.”

 “...promise?”

 “I promise.”

 “I promise.”

 “I promise.”

 “Promise.

Janus just squeezes Roman’s shoulder gently. “I promise too, sweetie. Now, will you tell us what happened?”

 “I, um…” Roman’s gaze flickers over to Patton. “Have you—um…”

 “I’ve told them a little, sweetheart,” Patton says when Roman can’t finish his sentence, “we’ve figured out the ‘bruised ego,’ is there anything else you’d like to tell us?”

 Roman nods. He turns his head back towards Remus, his face contorted. Logan carefully reaches out to ruffle his hair.

 “Take your time,” he whispers, “we’re not going anywhere.”

 “I have three,” Roman blurts out after a moment.

 “…three, honey?”

 “Patton has…the wings, Virgil has the height, Janus…Janus…”

 “Has the pants.”

 Janus lightly flicks Remus’s head, shaking his head fondly.

 “Are you saying you’ve got three turns of phrase, Princey?” Roman nods. “Okay. Is one of them ‘bruised ego?’”

 “Mhmm.”

 “Okay. Are you comfortable telling us the other two?”

 Goosebumps rise on Roman’s arms and Janus carefully positions them so Logan can help rub them away. Remus growls protectively and huddles closer.

 “…creative block,” Roman murmurs, only for Remus to tense. Remus raises his head slowly.

 “Ro-Bro?”

 “I, um, my room—my room shrinks and I—I can’t get out the door, I can’t move anything, I can’t breathe, I—“

 “Shh-shh-shh,” Janus soothes instantly, “you’re safe, my prince, you’re in the bathroom with us, you’re not there, you’re not there.”

 There are a few tense seconds of deep breaths.

 “…what’s the third one, Roman?”

 Roman looks at his wrists, turning them over as if he doesn’t recognize them. “…shackled creativity.”

 Patton clenches his fists as Virgil muffles another curse. Remus follows Roman’s gaze, the line of his shoulders growing tenser by the second. Janus carefully laces his fingers through one of Roman’s hands, Logan lacing his through the other.

 “Thank you for telling us, Roman,” he murmurs, “and…I do not know how much this is worth to you, but…we are so sorry this happens and that we could not do anything about it.”

 “It’s okay,” Roman murmurs, “it’s my own fault.”

 The bathroom falls silent.

 “…Roman, it’s not your fault.” Virgil scoots closer. “How—this isn’t your fault.”

 “Isn’t it? I’m the one that’s the closest to the Imagination,” Roman says softly, completely convinced of what he’s saying, “I’m the one that makes it possible for Thomas to see us…the Sides, the Imagination…isn’t that my job?”

 “Not like that,” Logan says firmly, “never like this.”

 “Logan’s right,” Virgil says when it looks like Roman’s about to argue, “you’re the conduit for the Imagination, but you’re not responsible for everything that this place does, let alone how Thomas interprets and internalizes stuff.”

 “None of this is you, Roman.” Janus rests his cheek against the top of Roman’s head. “None of it. It’s not Patton’s fault he grows wings, it’s not Virgil’s fault he grows taller, and it’s not your fault that this happens to you.”

 “You’re missing someone off the list there, Jan-Jan.”

 “Remus, I swear to god—“

 Remus cackles, throwing his head back as Janus swats at him. Of course, the problem is that they all try and look mildly annoyed at Remus, and yet the instant it makes Roman giggle, even a little, they all have to break character because Roman’s smiling again.

 “Seriously, Ro-Bro,” Remus says after a moment, “this isn’t on you. You don’t deserve this or some other fucked-up shit. This is fucked up all on its own. You’re not responsible for this.”

 “We’ll talk to Thomas,” Logan says, “about…negative feedback and internalizing things, alright? This isn’t healthy, Roman, it’s not—it’s not supposed to be like this, and it’s definitely not your fault.”

 “…okay.”

 “Can you say that for me, sweetie,” Janus coaxes, reaching around to cup Roman’s face, “that it’s not your fault?”

 “I-it’s not—“

 Roman stops. Swallows heavily.

 “Go on, my prince, you can do it.”

 “…I-it’s not my fault.”

 “Good.”

 “It isn’t my fault.” Roman’s eyes go wide and something hitches in his throat. “It is—isn’t—I—oh, god—“

 They catch Roman as he starts to cry.

 “You did so well, sweetheart, so well, I’m so proud of you.”

 “It’s okay, Princey, it’s gonna be okay.”

 “I’ve got you, my prince, I have you.”

 “You’re gonna be fine, Ro-Bro, I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

 “You don’t have to do this alone, Roman.”

 Roman rests there, in the arms of his family, bruised and exhausted, but not broken.

 Not anymore.

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious  @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @private-snippers @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @such-a-dumbass

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist let me know!

[elvish-sky]

The Beating of Your Hearts, Together {Kíli x Reader}

A.N: Guess who finally wrote something like a ✨productive✨ human?! Wow. That was an emotional rollercoaster that I loved. This became such a therapeutic fic, so much of it is based on my own experiences and that nightmare is one that I get at least once a week. But I liked getting to imagine Kíli bringing me out of it, that helped. And the ending is very much the hopeless romantic in me coming out, I desperately want to have that with someone someday. So I really hope you like this outpouring of both the good and bad parts of my soul. Enjoy.

Requested by @lothloriien on Tumblr: hey I saw you were still taking requests, so could you maybe do a kíli/reader where the reader is being comforted (like after a panic attack or nightmare)? don’t worry about it if you can’t, but if you get around to it that would be awesome. thanks :)

Word Count: 1,270

Pairing: Kíli x Reader

Summary: Kíli hears the sound of sobbing coming from your room, and investigates.

Warnings: Nightmare, Panic Attack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

**** The Beating of Your Hearts, Together

You were trapped. Darkness wrapped around you, engulfing you in pitch-black, not letting you go. Your breath rattled in your ears, in and out, in and out, in and out, in- and you held it because you could hear something advancing through the darkness, coming closer and ever closer and closer and closer, muttering the words that you heard night after night about how it was all your fault and you were a failure and you heard the scrape of something on stone as it came closer and closer and you strained your eyes but all you could see was that same darkness and suddenly-

You woke up sobbing. Tears streaked your face as you curled up as tight as possible, knees to your chest, convulsing and shaking as you tried to claw your brain out of the pit that the dream had buried it in. But you couldn’t, it was right. So you lay there, sobs wracking your body, brain lying in the self-made hole of shame you so often found yourself in. You cried and cried, tears streaming down your face, still there, still sobbing with nothing to show for it, glistening tracks on your face drying up as you shook, ears covered, eyes shut tight to ignore the existence of all else as you lay there, tense, terrified.

And yet some part of your brain was aware and ashamed of the weakness you were showing even though no one was there to see it.

And you lay there, brain trapped in that vicious circle as your nails dug into your palms as you sobbed.

Sound asleep one moment, wide awake the next, Kíli bolted up from his bed. Unsure of what had caused his quick rise from unconsciousness, he listened. Through the night air, he could hear the sounds of sobbing traveling in the wind. He grabbed an extra tunic, unaware of where exactly he was going, but prepared to go outside nonetheless.

Opening his door, Kíli heard the sounds of crying grow louder, and followed them to another door a little ways down the hall. Your door. He took a deep breath and knocked.

Nothing happened.

So, gently, he pushed it open, revealing you curled into a tight ball on your bed, sobbing.

“Oh, Y/N.”

Hyperaware, you flinched as you heard your name, soft footsteps following it closer to your bed as you sobbed. You felt the weight of the bed shift as someone sat on it, and a hand gently rest on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N,” The person whispered, “What do you need?”

You didn’t respond, your brain still stuck in that dark pit of despair, sinking to the deep depths of devastation you were so used to.

You felt the hand on your shoulder move to your back, and start to rub circles, starting from one shoulder blade and making the way around to the other.

It had to be Kíli then. He was the only person who knew that was how to calm you down, the circles reeling you back up out of that pit. And, slowly but surely, they did. Kíli’s quiet voice comforting you and his hand on your back started to break through the dark fog in your brain. Your sobs started to fade, your body started to unclench as he soothed you, murmuring the whole time.

Kíli saw your eyes start to open.

“Hey, Y/N,” he murmured, “Are you okay?”

You sniffled. “I- I’m not sure.”

He nodded, “Okay. What do you need?”

You blinked at him, not believing that he was actually here, but wanting to all the same.

He noticed this and very slowly moved so that he sat on your bed, leaning up against your wall.

“C’mere, Y/N. I’m here.”

Hesitantly, you moved closer to him. He moved to wrap an arm around your waist and paused to see if you were okay with it. Seeing you nod, he pulled you closer to him, letting you rest your head on his chest with his arm around you. The sound of his breath rumbling in his chest calmed you even more until your own breathing was rhythmic and normal again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You nodded, hesitantly. You’d never talked about it before with someone, but if you ever did, you thought Kíli would be the best to do it with.

You took a deep breath.

“It- it’s this recurring dream I have.”

He nodded.

“Where I’m trapped, no ropes actually restraining me, I just can’t m-move”

Your voice broke.

His hand started rubbing the circles on your back again, calming you enough to keep talking.

“And it’s dark. Pitch-black dark, where I can’t see anything no matter how hard I try. And something else is there. I don’t know what, but I can always feel that it’s bad. And it approaches me.”

Your voice was shaking as you started to choke up.

“And it comes closer, and I can hear it moving, and it tells me things. Horrible things. That I don’t matte-”

You broke off, unable to keep telling him the horrible contents of your brain, afraid he would leave and abandon you to the darkness once more.

But he stayed.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. And I know this might not help, but I’m going to tell you anyway. You do matter,” Kíli told you.

“You matter to me, to Fíli, to Thorin, to Balin, to Ori, to everyone in our crazy little family that we’ve made. But it doesn’t matter that we think you matter, it matters that you think you matter. Because you should love yourself, Y/N, you’re kind and sweet and funny and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He took a deep breath.

“Because I love you. I know that you hurt and I know that you struggle and I love you because of that. Because of everything that makes up who you are, the good, the bad, even the part of you that masterminds Fíli’s pranks. I love you, Y/N, and you should love you too.”

You were crying again and lifted your face to look into Kíli’s eyes.

He saw the tears brimming there, and his own eyes widened.

“Oh no, Y/N, please don’t cry, don’t cry, I love you.”

The panic on his face was adorable, and you giggled a little.

“You love me?” You weren’t sure if he’d meant it or not.

Kíli started to smile. “Yes. I always have, and I always will, and I’ll always be here for you.”

You took a deep breath, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t hurt your heart.

“I love you too.”

Kíli’s smile was brighter than the sun.

And with that, your heart lifted a little. You lay there together, Kíli’s hand still tracing circles on your back until you had fallen asleep, only at which point he let himself drift into unconsciousness.

Kíli loved you, and you loved him. And you still had hard days, still woke up sobbing in the middle of the night, because loving and being loved doesn’t fix that. It was a struggle that you worked through every day. And you did a lot of it alone because only you could keep pulling yourself out of that pit. But you always had Kíli, there for you, willing to do whatever he could to help you along that journey. And you helped him in turn, sticking by him whenever it was tough but also when it wasn’t.

Because your hearts beat together. You and Kíli, together.

Forever.

Everything tag ❤️: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny

Kíli tag: @claraofthepen

[elentiyawhitethorn]

When Passion Rules the Game | Part Six

CW: NSFW, language

Part Five//Part Seven//Masterlist//2634 words

Aelin chuckled. “I hate you.”

Rowan grinned, playfully squeezing her ass. “I hate you more.”

“I can’t even wrap my mind around it, though. You like the Wendlyn Eagles. It’s just incomprehensible.”

Rowan smirked. “You’re far too dramatic for your own good.”

“Someone has to be. The rest of the world is filled with some boring ass people, I tell you, Rowan.”

He laughed. “Having met with Chaol Westfall, I can agree with you there.”

A snort that was far from womanly left Aelin’s mouth. “I still can’t believe you had to work on that project with him all day. I felt so bad.”

“You didn’t,” Rowan protested. “You were laughing every time I looked at you.”

“I can’t deny that.”

They both laughed. But the humor slowly dissolved as Rowan trailed his hand along Aelin’s side. The light touch turned greedy as Aelin leaned into him, aching for a rougher touch.

His hand reached for her breast and squeezed. Aelin scooted closer and reached her hand down below the sheets.

Rowan had her hand in his grasp in an instant. “Be patient, sweetheart.”

“I wish you’d stop saying that,” Aelin muttered.

Rowan smirked. “But you need to learn it.”

“Training me to be a good girl for you, hmm?” Aelin scooted closer, the legs that had been casually intertwined now tangled against each other heatedly. “But don’t you want me to make you feel good?” She gave her best puppy dog eyes.

Rowan leaned in and nipped her lower lip. “If you ask nicely.”

“Please let me touch you,” Aelin rasped, fluttering her eyelashes.

Rowan gave her throat a quick squeeze, Aelin letting out a noise of content as he choked her. Then he let go off her entirely, and Aelin moved her hand farther under the sheet.

Rowan’s cock was half-hard when Aelin wrapped her slender fingers around it. He squeezed his eyes shut as Aelin started pumping her hand. She was thoroughly enjoying the small grunt that left his lips as he tried to hold back a groan.

Rowan thrust his hips into Aelin’s hand. She trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along his neck as she pumped her hand. His cock hardened in her grip, and Aelin felt heat start to build between her legs.

Just when Aelin twisted her wrist and drew a growl out Rowan, he stopped her by flipping their bodies, pinning Aelin underneath him. He didn’t enjoy being the one squirming at someone else’s touch.

“Rowan,” she pleaded. He moved her arms, pinning her wrists over her head with one hand, and brought the other down between her legs. But Rowan only parted her folds with a finger, stroking gently. Aelin bucked her hips, but he only withdrew his hand.

“Please,” she whined. “Please, please, please.”

Rowan chuckled against her skin, licking a stripe up her neck and readjusting his hips so that Aelin was even more trapped under his body.

He slipped his finger inside her entrance, then pulled it back out immediately. “Beg me. Beg me to fuck you.” He roughly fingered her clit, then pulled his hand away entirely.

Aelin complied. Please was the only word in her vocabulary as she whimpered for Rowan to make her feel good. He finger-fucked her for a few minutes before he decided she was behaving well enough to come. Rowan pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive bud of flesh. It didn’t take much for Aelin to be overcome by a massive wave of pleasure.

And when he fucked her, when he flicked her clit as he slammed into her, she came, not even close to satisfied. He didn’t stop moving not just until he came as well, but until she had a third orgasm. When he finally let up, Aelin dropped into a deep slumber, exhausted from his attentions.

—

They were back in the bar. Aelin was talking to a man, a man with silver hair and pine-green eyes. She didn’t know his name, but she wanted to.

“I’m new in town,” he said to her, but Aelin wasn’t concerned with the hazy lust clouding his eyes or the way his gaze dropped to her cleavage. She was thinking about how nice he was, how smart and kind and funny. She didn’t want to drag him in the bathroom, she wanted to tell him that she lo—

An obnoxious beeping filled the room, filled Aelin’s head, turned the man into a blur. Aelin snapped awake, scrambling into a sitting position. Her alarm was going off.

She glanced over at Rowan, drowsily rubbing his eyes beside her, still lying down. “You okay, baby?”

Aelin let out a long exhale, trying to recall what her dream had been about. Rowan, maybe?

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, assessing the sincerity of her statement, then nodded and said, “We should get up. Work’s in an hour.”

Aelin steadied her breathing—what had her dream been?—and expressed her agreement. They climbed out of bed and headed around the house: eating, making coffee, brushing teeth, showering. It had been three months since they’d become friends with benefits, and they had toothbrushes and extra clothing at each other’s homes. It made things much more convenient, not having to wait until the weekend to hook up.

Aelin headed out a few minutes before Rowan, both because arriving at the same time could be suspicious if anyone noticed, and because she had no reason to wait for him. She called a farewell, knowing he had a key to lock her door with. Again, for convenience purposes.

Despite that and the fact that they cuddled often after sex, naked and talking about football teams, their relationship really wasn’t abnormal. They had just become good friends.

Aedion headed into her office only moments after Aelin herself arrived. He looked at her, frowned, and said, “You have a hickey.”

Aelin refused to blush, cursing herself for not even bothering to look in the mirror other than for a quick hair brush and some light lipstick. She merely leaned back in her chair, threaded her fingers in front of her on the desk, and said, “We have an issue with the camera in the main elevator.”

Aedion sighed and took a seat. “We’ll have it fixed by lunchtime. Still playing with your boy toy?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself, Aedion.”

He snorted. “Me? You’re the one—”

“We are not having this conversation again,” Aelin interrupted. “Especially not here. Go fix the camera.” She tended to be relatively kind to her employees, and merely icy to the ones who pissed her off, but having grown up with Aedion, she tended to have a shorter temper when he was around.

A huff was all she got in reply before Aedion stood. He left, shutting the door gently—they had a silent agreement not to let their petty arguments disturb anyone else—and leaving Aelin alone. She pulled out her phone and swiped to the camera app, then took a look at her neck.

There was a dark bruise on the side, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief. That would be easy to cover with her hair, unable to do anything less temporary during work. She pulled her blonde locks over that side and made a mental note to keep them there. Good thing she hadn’t passed many people on the way in.

Then she thought back to what had went down when Aedion had first walked in on her and Rowan, oh so long ago.

—

“What the fuck are you doing, Aelin?”

Aelin tensed. This wasn’t going to be fun.

She glanced over at Rowan, who looked part defensive and part confused. He probably didn’t realize Aedion was her cousin, though he might recognize him vaguely from work.

“You can go, Rowan. I’ll take care of this.”

He hesitated, looking back and forth between the pair. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I can handle him.”

Aedion snorted at that, but Aelin didn’t dignify him with a glance.

“Okay, but I…” Rowan trailed off.

Right. Aelin was still wearing his shirt.

“Um”—Aelin sent Aedion a smile—“We’ll be right back.” He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and he flashed a saccharine grin.

Mentally dying from embarrassment, Aelin grabbed Rowan’s wrist and dragged him down the hallway. Not bothering to say anything to him, she yanked off his shirt, tossed it to him, and opened her drawer.

“So that was… a friend?”

Aelin yanked on some underwear and sweats. She looked in a different drawer for a t-shirt. “My cousin. Aedion. He works security.”

“Ah.” What was different about Rowan’s tone after she said that? What was he thinking?

Aelin turned back around, fully dressed now. Rowan’s gaze was fixed on the wall, rather than watching her as she dressed. Apparently all desire had disappeared, replaced by awkwardness.

“He won’t tell anyone.” Rowan’s eyes snapped to Aelin. “He’s very protective of me, but as annoyed as he’ll undoubtedly be, he won’t say anything.”

Rowan nodded. “Good.”

They didn’t say anything more. Aelin nodded. Rowan nodded, too.

“Well,” Aelin said finally. “See you at work on Monday.”

Rowan laughed lightly. “Yeah, see you.”

They left the bedroom and Rowan walked ahead of Aelin to the door. He gave a tight nod to Aedion, who didn’t return the gesture. Aelin sighed.

Once Rowan was out the door, Aelin smiled brightly. “Take a seat.”

“I’m good here.”

She ignored his tone and plumped onto the couch. “Want anything to eat?”

“What are you doing?”

“That’s none of your business, Aed.”

He frowned. “He works for you.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Aelin snapped.

Aedion pushed off the wall and stalked forward, dropping on the couch next to her. “You’re his boss. He’s probably just trying to get a promotion.”

A scowl crossed Aelin’s features. “You don’t even have any idea what this is,” she hissed.

“Then enlighten me, please.” Aedion’s growing temper matched her own. “Do you love him?”

Aelin scoffed. “Of course not. I just met the man a few weeks ago. Besides, that would be inappropriate.”

“That would be inappropriate,” Aedion repeated incredulously. “And this fucking isn’t?”

She huffed. “Rowan is well aware that this won’t be affecting his career at all, positively or negatively. It stays out of work, okay? There’s no reason to be pestering me about it.”

“It’s wrong, Aelin.”

“It is gods-damn not,” she snapped. “I am an adult, and he is an adult, and if we want to fuck, we will fuck. There’s your laptop. Take it and leave.”

Aedion did no such thing. “You know I only care about you.”

“If you care about me, you will mind your own business.”

Aedion sighed and stood up. “I’ll talk you on Monday. Lunch, remember?”

Aelin wanted to yell at him, her stubborn demeanor making it difficult to lose her anger, but if he was taking the steps to end this argument, she could do the same. “Fine. See you Monday.” Her voice was only slightly less sharp, but the words were enough. Aedion smiled in acknowledgment and left.

—

So much had changed since then, but Aedion’s attitude toward the pair’s out-of-work activities was not one of them. He glared at Rowan whenever they were in the same room, trying to find something to fault him for, but there never was anything. During their time in the office, Rowan remained respectful and kind, exactly as she’d requested of him all those days ago. He truly was a good man.

Drawing her thoughts away from Rowan, Aelin reached for a pen and got to work.

It was an hour later that Rowan joined her, starting on their major workload for the planning of their newest fundraising activity, as well as the arduous task of budgeting. Having such an involved roll in many of Aelin’s largest tasks, she had a small table designated for him against the wall, if ever they needed more space. Other thank that, he just used the opposite side of Aelin’s own desk.

Neither of them mentioned this morning, as was usual.

It may have been Aelin’s overactive imagination, but Rowan seemed distant today. Distracted about something or other. He brushed her off when Aelin asked if he was okay, and she let him have some space after that.

By the time the end of the workday rolled around, Aelin was exhausted. It was Friday, which meant she’d just spent the past five days pouring her sweat and blood into each project and task. She did work on the weekends, but the little loads she did at home could hardly compare to the stress of the week.

Aelin always worked later than everybody else; she wanted to get as much done as she could, and she made sure her workers, if not herself, had good hours. It was nearly seven-thirty when she filed away the last document.

When she came out of her office to find an empty floor, vacated entirely by Elide and all of the other staff, she was surprised. She wasn’t surprised that all of her workers were gone. That was entirely expected. She was surprised that Rowan was gone.

Not that he was supposed to be here; even though he worked a bit later some days, he usually left before her. But sometimes he waited up for her, in case she was in the mood. Well aware of the fact that they had fucked last night and they didn’t do it every day or anything, Aelin mentally shook herself for being concerned about Rowan’s absence. Still, some of the uneasiness remained.

Rowan had a pretty good position in the company, and as such, he had his own, albeit small, office. Aelin peered in just to be sure he was gone. Only a janitor, Arobynn, was in the office, and she waved at him. He gruffly nodded.

Trying not to reprimand herself out loud and look like a lunatic in front of the janitor, Aelin headed to the elevator. She was bothered that she was so caught up in Rowan that him not being there, even when it was entirely expected, made her lonely. It was just the sex she missed, of course.

Aelin impatiently tapped her pen against the handrail the whole elevator ride down, and when the doors finally opened, she hurried to her car, feeling she needed a nap. And maybe a whiskey.

—

The weekend passed in a blur. Aelin texted Rowan once, but he hadn’t responded. She hadn’t pestered him after that, knowing full well that he was allowed to have a life and she didn’t want to be desperate and annoy him into coming over. But she couldn’t deny the rapidly growing kernel of excitement resting in the pit of her stomach as Aelin headed to work on Monday.

“Hello, Elide,” Aelin called merrily, waving as she passed her.

Elide just sent a bemused smile to her friend.

Aelin marched toward her office, peering through the windows to find… a man that was not Rowan. Backpedaling because Aelin didn’t want to meet a client unprepared, she stepped away before he could see her. Then she made her way back to Elide.

“Who is that in my office?”

Elide frowned. “I sent you an email about it last night.”

“Last night? The last work I did was yesterday afternoon.”

Elide sighed, as if Aelin should have been checking her email all weekend long. She always had such high expectations. “That’s Nox Owens, the replacement.”

“Replacement for whom?” Aelin asked warily.

Elide blinked. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Who didn’t tell me what?” Aelin crossed her arms.

“We had to find a new coordinations director over the weekend. Mr. Whitethorn tendered his immediate resignation last Friday.”

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@nehemikkele

@pagemasters

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

@theysayitscrazy

@yesdreamblog

[bakugohoex]

I was rewatching death note and when L did his monster speech this request was born! So the idea is Bakugo and iida (separately ) with a s/o who has trust issues and is liar ,nothing extremely serious like betraying them! More like smaller stuff? They probably confront them asking why they lie so much!”

({and btw if you haven’t herd L’s monster speech you should for inspiration buts that’s your choice! Have a happy holiday!✨)

“y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: this long sorry, violence, language, some topics of abuse but it isn’t in detail, kissing and fluff 

word count: 5200+

a/n: hi sorry i don’t write for iida cause i find him really annoying and i don’t think i have the facilities to write him, but i do write bakugo so here it is, also i love the L speech sm and anything in italics is either a reference to the speech or directly incorporates the speech, have a happy rest of the holiday as well 

summary: in which you were raised by villains, by being saved by the heroes, the trust issues and lying you were brought upon reflects you now, bakugo grows ever more frustrated at your lying and all your truths come out

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

The echo of the wind bashing against the windowsill roared through the commission, the white walls cascaded around you, it was painful and enduring at how you sat in the middle of the silent room. Waiting. No. Watching, you were listening and seeing those around you, a muzzle around your mouth to surpress your voice. Your wrists coated with the metal handcuffs, you were trapped, and you being stalked by those around you.

“Miss Y/l/n, we have found your family.” The voice is loud and monotone, you didn’t care, fuck your family, fuck what they did to you, fuck them.

Unable to move your hands to put a middle finger up at the camera, one movement causing an electrifying bolt run through your arms. You hated being here, you would rather fend for yourself on the streets than be involved in a hell hole like this.

“No words of happiness.” The sound of a certain pro hero caught your ears, the one who had captured you, held you against your will, locked you in this room. Number two pro hero Hawks.

“You can kill them for all I care.” Your voice dripped with malice not looking up at him.

Monsters who will not show themselves and will cause trouble.

You heard him say something quietly behind him before the jingle of keys were heard. He walked to the handcuffs undoing them, the muzzle clenched against your face, leaving sore marks, he grabbed at it making you face him. You were about to activate your quirk, but he quickly let go making you stop.

“We’re sending you to UA.” You eyes widened, what did a shitty school like UA need with a villain like you.

He looked at your sore wrists, before the signs of the bruises vanished underneath your thumb which you had been rubbing against the purple. He watched you touch your neck which had bruises from being pushed to the ground, all disappearing in a single touch. “A school like that doesn’t need me.”

“Of course it does, your quirk can be used for good.” He softly speaks sitting beside you on the white floor. The room was suffocating, and you wanted to leave it as soon as you could.

“I can’t, I know how to kill, I was raised to kill.” You put your hands to your face, getting rid of the cuts that erupted on your face, with an instance it was all gone. “If I touch you and activate my quirk, I could break you.”

He looks at your tired eyes, a child broken and used by your family to become a villain. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

It gains your attention and with an instance you look at the man, he holds his hand out you grab it with ease, his fingers were soft, you could imagine them breaking under your touch. He guides you out of the room, you walked past to where many other rooms which you assumed where blank and lifeless. Before seeing a window, it was to another room, you saw a woman in bed, she was bandaged up but the silver around her wrist made you in an instance know who it is.

“Your mother she’s dying, the families she ruined wont get proper justice, but I’ll let you go in, you can scream, shout hell you can kill her yourself, but you will join UA.” The sound of being able to kill her, kill the woman who had stolen you away.

“She’s not my mother, she found me.” They were never your family; they had seen you at such a young age and stolen you to indoctrinate.

Monsters who abduct children.

He nods already knowing, “we’ll lock the door.” All that flashed through your eyes was murder, she had taken it all from you, you never wanted to see her family, her stupid husband and her stupid son, you hated them all and you were going to kill her.

The sound of the door locking made you move towards her, she looked up thinking you were hear to save her. “My daughter.” The words were careless and made you angrier.

“I was never your daughter…” You pause her frail fingers had started to wrinkle and her face becoming grey and hair patchy.

“Y/n.” He breathing was rough, but you didn’t care, with an instant you went up to her exposed hands.

A smile formed on your lips, maybe you were a sadist, but you could do one last villainous action, make her fie even quicker, make her beg for forgiveness. Then you would go to UA, you would forget about the torture, forgot about them. You would become something a lot more than they had ever expected.

“I’m going to kill you.” It was comical but her face fell.

“You heartless bitch.” She shouted, “you fucking bitch, no wonder nobody loves you.” You didn’t care about her words smiling away.

The way her fingers cracked under your touch, each bone breaking the screams filling the room. You didn’t care touching even more of her before you moved directly to her heart. Hawks had heard the screams ignoring it maybe it was wrong of him to let you do this. But you deserved justice, your hand moved on top of her chest.

“Y/n…please.” She begged it was heaven in your ears, the woman who had tormented you was begging for you too stop and what else could you do but disagree. She had clinged onto your wrist, tightening her grip, unable to use her own quirk due to the medication, this was your only chance.

Hawks knew it was over, opening the door to see you walk out, he looked at you expecting some emotion but was brought with happiness, almost joy. “Where are the other two?” 

“You’ll see them again when they’re locked up, but that’s it, you cant kill them.” You nodded, you’d find a way, you’d find a way to kill them both, but you kept your composure.

The day flew past he explained how you’d have to lie, pretend your life was normal. But the main thing he wanted you to know was.

“If you kill any of them, I’ll be the one to kill you Y/n.” You nod, you had a straight face for most of his lecture, but you felt like he was trying to replace the adult figures you had had in your life. “If you get into any trouble, call me or just want to know how to act human, I know you haven’t been in the best education, but this is a fresh chance.”

“Okay.” It was simple and whilst sleeping in the commission in a much better area with colour and natural light. You watched the sky, watched how the stars danced around the moon, you admired it from a far but oh how you wished to see it up close.

The night was calming, and you were restless, but it wasn’t out of fear of going to UA, it was of fear they would find out who you were. Find out you were a villain, find out that you had caused deaths along the way. You were confident in your abilities, but they were new people, you had been surrounded by A rank and B rank villains all your life. Hell you had been classed as an A rank villain but now you would become something in life.

Hawks hadn’t bothered to tell you about your real parents, all that was known was you had been on the streets, you were a nobody and you would remain like that if you tried hard enough. The night had led to a lack of sleep with tossing and turning, the nightmares blaring through your head. The torment the way they would use your quirk at the tender age of five to kill and kill again.

Monsters who devour dreams.

The sound of coughing woke you up in your slumber, you hadn’t grown close to the winger hero. But he was trying, he gave you your new uniform, helped you pack a bag with everything and even gave encouraging words along the way.

The uniform was gross but after being trapped for weeks in solitude you were finally getting human contact, experiencing the world. “I’ll help you settle in; the teachers know your…past.” You nod, he was avoiding it and so were you, the drive being filled with silence.

Your gaze had been out the window, the hues of red and yellow cascaded through the sky, it was beautiful. A month ago the only thing you had seen was thick concrete walls, murder only occurring inside of the building you had called home for years.

“We’re here.” He whispers opening the door for you, taking your bags he watches you hit the air and feel the sun, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

Your surpress the smile looking down, “make friends Y/n.” You nod, you were able to make friends, of course you were it was the not sticking out like a sore thumb that bothered you.

These people will have known each other for a month’s now but you, you weren’t normal. Hawks gave a smile walking you inside the building, “I’ll go drop your bags off to your new room once you’ve settled in.”

You walked past the doors, before arriving in front of a humongous door, shrugging at how Hawks spoke about the class. “The league tried to get them.” You mutter out. “They had talked to Shigaraki about it prior, we were going to go with them but my bro…he got sick.”

It was a lie of course; it wasn’t that he had gotten sick. You had touched him; broken his arm and you had been punished in an instant. You were made to sleep in the rain, eat off the ground, it was torture and you had felt sucked to death.

Monsters who suck blood.

Hawks nods, you misspeaking made you nervous, this was the first time you would be talking and listening to people who you weren’t about to kill. The door opened and you didn’t dare face the class, the teacher who you assumed was Aizawa stood in a sleeping bag, you dismissed it knowing how powerful his quirk was.

“We’ve got a new student today, Y/n Y/l/n and pro hero Hawks is here.” The shock on there faces was something, but it felt more to Hawks than it was to you.

“I’ll be leaving I’ll call tonight.” You nod at Hawks watching him leave with your stuff, your bag hanged loosely on your shoulder. You analysed them all, scanning up and down before you saw the boy who you knew Shigaraki had captured, the Katsuki Bakugo and Izuku Midoriya who your ‘parents’ had told you about.

You stopped staring at them, Izuku looked down not meeting your gaze whilst Bakugo scowled at you, “why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Oh umm…” You stuttered Hawks had made you practice a fake backstory but, in an instant, it was forgotten, “I’m Y/n Y/L/N, I moved here with my family a…and ugh.”

Monsters who always tell lies.

You didn’t know what else to say, refusing to meet their gazes as you looked out the window, the birds chirping, petals falling in the August heat, it was beautiful, how life spewed out into the world. But also how easily it was to destroy life, how in one touch everything could break and deteriorate, “Y/n.” Aizawa had been repeating your name but you hadn’t gotten out of your daze until the third time.

“Yes.” You whisper.

He points to a seat behind Bakugo and in front of Midoriya, “go sit behind Bakugo.” You nod, walking past them all, they seemed already accustom to their friends. This was going to be a lot harder; it wasn’t like you were infiltrating it to gain anything. You going against the indoctrination and being the opposite of what you had been brought up to be.

You felt someone tap your shoulder as Aizawa went to what looked like sleep, quickly turning around to meet the green haired boy. “I’m Izuku Midoriya.”

You pretended to not know him, smiling as you introduced yourself again, “Yeah I heard.”

“Why did your parents move?” A blonde boy shouted, you saw the black in his hair, it was a look, but you had seen a lot worse hairstyles.

“Oh, work.” It was an easy enough lie which nobody would be able to see through. “We move around a lot.”

He doesn’t say anymore, as some of the girls come around the table, all introducing themselves, you smile thinking this had become easier by the minute. As quickly as introductions had occurred between the whole class, the day had begin to conclude and all that was left was training.

You didn’t have a hero costume so remained in the UA uniform; it was easy enough. With the odd amount of people, Aizawa had made you stay beside him. “I want you to break all of their left legs.”

Was this a trick or a ploy? You were happy to accept knowing this to be an easy enough thing to do, you saw how they had all began to bunch together. It was paced easily, skimming through each and everyone of them, jumping onto the high buildings as you touched all their left legs with ease, even Midoriya whose quirk you had known to be superior had not been paying attention, you easily touched it before hiding it. Your last victim was Bakugo who seemed to be jumping around, you saw how he stood in front of Kirishima in the open area, well you were going to make this a show.

You already heard the screams of some of the class and whilst being distracted you touched the blond’s leg, having assumed it was the wind he ignored the feeling. Ready to attack just as you bounced back to Aizawa.

In an instance you saw the class cascade onto their left knees, the shouting and tears flowing from some of them. It was quick enough, and you almost felt the thrill of killing from doing this small action.

Even Bakugo who had tried to not become grounded was repressing growls at the pain, “What’s ha…” You heard Momo ask on the ground, even the boy you had known as Endeavor’s son had collapsed onto the floor.

“It’s good, and you can heal them as well.” Aizawa ignored the class taking it as an endurance test.

You nodded about to go reverse it, “no let them feel it.” He had stopped you, you spaced in and out watching them on the floor, you stood in silence, it was easy enough to be stealthy even the invisible girl was easy to get after seeing the gloves floating about.

Aizawa after a couple minutes let you touch there legs again, all regaining strength again. They were all a bit out of it but Bakugo seemed the most pissed at you, not understanding your quirk. The class stood in silence looking at you, you didn’t look at them, wanting to leave and just look out at the sky for a bit.

“Y/n, was that your quirk?” The questions cascaded out, but you refused to answer, you didn’t care if they knew but you felt anxious and untrustworthy of these people. They could end up using it against you, hell they might even try and cut your hands off, so you’re left quirk less.

You had heard it happened to Overhaul so what would make you think that these groups of future pro heroes wouldn’t do it you. “No.” Is all you say, it was a lie, and you were going to stick by it forever.

Lying monsters they are much more cunning than other monsters.

Look into the horizon and see hope, “can we go now?” You muttered to Aizawa, he nodded, you didn’t stop to talk to them instantly leaving.

You didn’t want to face the question and answers, you wanted to be alone. You understood after all these years of being isolated, making friends, being around other people had took a toll on you and you wanted to curl up into a ball.

You grabbed your bag changing as quick as you could, instantly walking past the class who had just arrived to change. You saw the message on the phone Hawks had given you a number and floor of where you assumed your room was.

Whilst walking towards where the dorms were you heard the shout of your name. Turning around you were met with Todoroki, “oh hi.”

“Your quirk its…” He trailed off not knowing the words.

He joined you in the walk to the dorms, “you can say villainous, I can kill people with it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that but at least you’re on our side.” He smiles out before talking about the class and how impressed they were with your quirk.

All you could think about were the words he had said though our side, what did it mean? Were there sides to this world, were you going to remain on the side of justice or go against Hawks and run and kill and be killed by him.

You had ignored everything else he had said, “I’m glad I’m on your side as well.” It was a blatant lie, but you were trying, trying to put on a façade. You tried to understand him, understand the emotions that were around you. But you didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how something has harmless as you had done had made them impressed. If they wanted to be impressed, you could kill someone. If they really wanted.

They pose as humans even though they have no understand of the human heart.

Todoroki talked about how meals worked and the works and before you knew it, he had dropped you off directly outside the dorm room. “I’ll come get you for dinner.” You nodded before sucking in a breath. You had your own room, your own sanctuary, you could make it look however you wanted.

You walked inside seeing your bags to the side, a desk and a bed it was normal and empty. Hell if you knew what to do with the room, you had no pictures to put up, no possessions only the new clothes Hawks had brought you. It was barren and you expected it would remain this way.

You laid on the bed, feeling the soft and warm covers, it was a new experience, the rags you had slept in prior being nothing compared to this. It was comfort that you had never experience, the few hours later bringing the half haired boy to your room.

You had put the clothes in the designated area and been waiting on the bed, staring out of the window. It was getting dull and wearing the clothes that fit too right, you opened the door to see Todoroki.

“We’re waiting downstairs.” You nod, pulling at the sleeves of the shirt as you followed the boy. He made conversation which you gave small yeah back too. You were eating for the sake of it, eating to fuel you it wasn’t to satisfy or pleasure you it was to make you stronger. That’s how you had been brought up and that’s how you seemed to remain.

You saw the class crowding a table, a confusion settling on your face. Even the angry Bakugo was perched on the table, Todoroki coughed, and everybody turned their backs. “She’s hear.” Mina squealed, “we got you a cake to celebrate you joining our class.”

Your face fell in confusion, why were they being nice? You had hurt them and now they had gotten you a cake, you had never had a cake, always being told it was bad for you and would ruin your quirk.

“A c…cake.” You stuttered.

“Yeah, a cake, look its got frosting.” Ururaka smiled moving to show you the cake.

It was Midoriya the next to speak, “we think your quirk is really cool and don’t want you to think we think it’s a villain quirk or something.”

Your eyes widened; the cake had blue frosting but the sound of Midoriya repeating what Todoroki spoke out too you. You took a deep breath before faking a smile, everybody seemed to believe it and your next words, “thank you guys so much it means a lot.”

Bakugo knew, Bakugo saw how your eyes were lying, how your face might have been smiling but inside you were dying. Those eyes of yours, the way your upper lip twitched whilst cutting the cake. He saw it all and, in the end, he saw how your fingers skimmed the knife, as if you were thinking about murder. But what did he know about an extra like you.

They eat even though they’ve never experienced hunger.

A couple weeks had passed, and you seemed to have settled in, well that’s what Hawks had assumed after every daily call with you. His words echoing in your head, one murder and you would die yourself. You had grown closer with all of them , specifically Mina and Kirishima, but Bakugo was another story, he was scowl every time you looked at him, everytime you tried to make conversation. You both hadn’t shared a single conversation only being around each other due to your mutual friends.

The day Mina had asked to study in your room had brought Kirishima, Sero, Denki and Bakugo to your room. You hadn’t expected all of them, but you put on a fake smile again, you didn’t need to revise, hell if it wasn’t for your quirk, you’d still be academically smarter then the rest of them.

You didn’t confess to this truth only accepting them inside the barren room, you hadn’t gotten time to print out the pictures you had taken with the class. As much as the villain inside of you hated to admit it you were enjoying your time. You had thought the first night at UA, that in a month you’d have killed them, the villain in you would come out and you’d stop all their hearts, but now, smiling with them maybe things were different.

Or maybe you were lying to yourself, because to Bakugo you still showed the lying nature, your eyes were filled with lies and could dare look at you. It was only for Kirishima who had dragged him alone, he wanted to ask why you lied, why you didn’t tell the truth? A true pro hero would never go to this extent, but he had no proof, it was in his head.

It was all true, you had continued this lie, making up about how your parents and you were distant, but you had a brother who you were close with. The brother who had stolen you had never been close with you, he hated you, resented your quirk and had killed anybody around you to prove he was the better child.

You imagined him locked up right now, locked away in the hell hole, it was callous, but you relished in his pain. Mina had begun asking questions which you ignored thinking, you zoned out looking out of the window. He was probably chained up, sobbing at how he regretted it all. Regretted hurting you, you bet he didn’t even know that you were the one to kill his mother.

It was comforting but you knew you would have to surpress these thoughts to seem normal. “Sorry, I spaced out, say that again?” You quickly spoke.

Bakugo had noticed you space out, noticed how your lips twitched upwards into a cruel face he had seen that face before. Seen it on every villain he had even encountered and the fear that filled him, startled you all as he knocked the books to the floor.

You continued helping Mina ignoring the boy who continued looking at you. He didn’t bother helping Kirishima, only glaring at you, it wasn’t like he cared if you trusted them or not. But you were no hero to him, even if Deku and Todoroki told you, you were a hero, you would always be something villainous. The night fell and they all left, Bakugo having glared the entire night, it was unnerving, and you were fearful he was catching on, but you dismissed it. It was easy to not overthink these types of stuff, you could always threaten the boy.

They study even though they have no interest in academics.

The late night was unnerving you could feel Bakugo’s presence surround the room, you jolted up. Looking around, feeling watched, before you noticed the hoodie Bakugo had been wearing draped over the chair. He might be awake, he could be, you didn’t care, you got up stretching before grabbing the hoodie and creeping out the door.

You were on the same floor as the boy, so in a quick few steps you arrived at his door. You knocked hesitantly, maybe you should’ve waited. You shook your head, knowing that the feeling of his hoodie in your room made you on edge. You knocked again, and on the third a sleep Bakugo opened the door.

They seek friendship even though they do not know how to love.

He rubbed his eyes before noticing who it was, “what the hell do you want?”

You scowled looking at him, “you left your hoodie in my room.”

You pushed it on him about to leave, but instead he grabs your wrist, “we need to talk.”

“We can talk in the morning.” You were fearful not of him but the threat he knew your secret, knew everything about you.

He ignored you dragging you inside and shutting the door, “sit down.” He mutters, you oblige sitting on the edge of his bed, he had been wearing a black shirt and shorts, you didn’t look at him, instead looing around his room. You see a picture of what looks to be his parents, he was the spitting image of his mother. He looked angry in it but even then, it was a family picture filled with love, something you would never have.

“Why do you lie?” He meets your gaze.

“L…lie, I haven’t.” You lie out.

“I see it in your eyes, you have this face and I’ve seen it on villains, who are you?” His voice had become harsher and you felt intimidated. Fuck, you had killed people and a rowdy blond boy was making you scared.

“I told you…”

He interrupts you, “Y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once.”

“Bakugo I don’t know what you’re on about.” You say acting dumb to leave this situation, “I’ve tried to be nice to you but you jus…”

He speaks over you to make you shut up, “you don’t want to be friends, what are you Y/n?”

His voice was eery and he continued to spew out the truth, “you’re a villain aren’t you.”

You take a deep breath the tears about to brim from your eyelids, “I’m the monster, parents tell their kids about.”

Bakugo watched the tears flow out, he didn’t know what to do, he brought his hand to your face wiping the tears with his thumb. “Y/n tell me the truth.”

You look a mess, but you didn’t care, and you confessed it all, you didn’t lie or skim over the truth. You told him from the moment you got taken to the moment you killed the woman who had made you call her mother.

You expected him to push you away, tell everybody instead he sat in silence. Before bringing you into his arms, “I shouldn’t have called you a villain.” It was a soft side to the boy who had been known for being aggressive, after hearing your sufferings he understood, and he wanted to make sure you were always safe and protected.

“I am a monster though.”

He makes you look up at him, holding your face in his hands, “you’re not, the monsters are those people.”

You don’t speak instead leaning your head against his shoulders, you had never been this vulnerable with anyone. He held your head onto his body, moving onto the pillow to let you lie down on him, he brought you comfort, let you cry on him. You weren’t a villain; you weren’t a villain and if Bakugo believed it then you weren’t a villain to the boy who had been surrounded by them just as much as you had.

After that night Bakugo and you had grown into a strong friendship, it was shocking to the class who had never seen you even talk. The way he would come and make you coffee in the morning, walk with you to each class. Sit beside you in at lunch, even go as far as it train with you just so you felt included.

But seeing how you both talked and smiled at each other, for the first time you had a genuine smile on your face, a genuine laugh that wasn’t filled with lies from your past. They watched how the two of you grew over the course of the next month, how the two of you grew closer and closer. It was unfathomable but you had made a true friend, a friendship that wasn’t based on lies, maybe one day you’d tell them all.

But at the time being you were content with having the angry boy be remotely nicer to you than anybody. It was Mina who had noticed how Bakugo would open the door for you or hold your bag occasionally. The unusual behaviour making everybody think he was sick, but all you saw from him was kindness that had evolved for you.

What they hadn’t realised was how at ease you both had gotten into a routine of sneaking into each other’s rooms. How you’d hold onto each other, talk and vent about the past in each other’s arms. Friends don’t do that; friends don’t hold and comfort each other like you both did.

On one of the many nights you both spent together, his arm around your waist, you looked at him. Looked at his fiery red eyes and fallen blond hair, he had become something more to you. Somebody who you could trust with your life.

“Stop looking at me, its creepy.” He scolds, you laugh at the boy bringing your hand to his hair.

You feel him stare down at your tiny figure, “I thought you were a real bitch the first time we met.”

“You don’t think that anymore.” You pout out nearing closer to his plump lips.

“I still think you’re a fucking bitch.” He laughs, cocking his head back before bringing it back to your face, the gap having narrowed and all you could see was his fiery eyes stare back at you. “You’re my bitch...though.”

You nod not making a remark as the gap closes between you. Your lips moving together in an instant, it was long awaited and seethed with love and hope. But most of all it proved the woman who you called mother wrong, you weren’t heartless, and you have the love she spoke about from Bakugo.

Monsters who always tell lies.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world

[keeper0fthestars]

midnight cravings and other starry-eyed confessions

Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: Frankie trusts you enough to let his guard down, to be vulnerable with you. Love languages and the messy emotions that go along with that, fluff, cheesy self-indulgence. this started out as a series of soft h/c and I have no idea what happened.  3K words later, here we are. A few of you have touched on domestic Frankie in the kitchen and it turns out i'm a sucker for the ‘slow dancing in the kitchen’ trope too. 

warnings: mentions of anxiety/PTSD, a tiny bit of smut 

~~ 

Francisco Morales is a man who notices everything. He tucks a blanket around you when you've fallen asleep on the couch. If you're outside together and if he sees goosebumps on your arms, he’ll drape his jacket around your shoulders before you even realize you're cold.

He notices when you're exhausted after a long day and he’ll be there to wrap his arms around you as if it’s what he’s been waiting for all day long. He makes you laugh when you need it most.

He notices when you're too tired to shower sometimes and he says, ‘babe, let me help you,’ and he gets in the shower with you and if you want him to, he'll wash your hair because he knows how. 

His tendency to do little things for you plays into one of his love languages. He notices when the fuel gauge on your car is low and he'll fill it up for you without saying anything. Not that you can't do it yourself, he knows you can, but the next time you get into your car, you'll try unsuccessfully to hide your smile when you discover he did it for you.

Frankie is a man who finds comfort in your nearness. 

If he finds you in the kitchen making coffee, two broad arms will wrap around you from behind. If he’s walking through a crowd with you, his hand will rest on the small of your back. If he's sitting beside you at a restaurant, if you're in the car with him, anywhere within arms reach, soft fingertips rest on the inside of your knee, his thumb moving back and forth. In the mornings, there are warm lips on your shoulder and ‘c’ mere baby’ as he folds you closer to that sleepy thick voice.

He'll drive across town on his day off to bring your favourite treat at work because he knows you have a stressful day ahead. 

If he's away for the week, he’ll stash away little notes for you to find. He'll surprise you with tickets to see your favourite singer.  When you’re under the weather, he'll show up on your doorstep after work with hot soup and honey ginger tea.  

He also knows he can count on you. 

It’s getting a single text at the end of the day with the words ‘I need you’  

It's the brittle sound of his voice against your neck in the middle of the night. You hold him and talk him down and fight his demons with him when it becomes too hard to do on his own. You never force him to talk about it. When he's ready, he'll tell you and right now, the way his fingers are absently tracing patterns on your bare arm tells you that his guard is down, in the darkness he trusts you. 

He’s getting used to the safety of your arms. He's slowly getting used to the way you pay attention; the way you listen, and actually hear what he's saying. He notices you're not just lying there, waiting to jump in and interrupt the moment he stumbles and falters. He's glad you can't see his eyes right now in the darkness of your bedroom, but at least his voice no longer shakes.

You've made a safe space for him inside your arms and underneath the blankets, he confides in you. He tells you that his neighbours think he’s lazy because he lets his front yard grow out of control when in reality, the smell of fresh-cut grass triggers his PTSD and that’s why he doesn't use the lawnmower as often as he should.

Two days later, he would come home from work to find it all done for him and it sends his heart reeling so hard he thinks he might collapse right there on the driveway.

No one's done anything like this for him before. The fact that you’d done that for him. The fact that you did that. For him.

You’ve just piled a week’s worth of freshly laundered clothes into a basket to be folded when there’s a knock on your door. Resting the basket on one hip, you swing the door open and see him standing there, still dressed in work clothes, sleeves rolled up, and hands in his pockets. He lifts the brim of his hat to reveal a pair of piercing eyes brimming with some desperate emotion you have no name for, his mouth parted slightly, chest caving in like the wind’s been knocked out of him. 

“Francisc-,” is all you manage before he wordlessly barrels in, capturing your waist in one arm so fast your stomach lurches. His other hand gently curves around the back of your neck, his thumb on your jaw, tenderly seizing your lips in a blinding kiss, smothering you, engulfing you with those broad shoulders. The basket of clothes tumbles to the tile floor in your tiny foyer, forgotten. Warm hands cover the expanse of your back as he holds onto you, your spine bending with the force of him. You hear his hat softly hit the floor as he inhales shakily against your neck like his throat is clogged.

Judging by how hard he’s struggling to control his breathing, you might be able to guess why he hasn’t let go of you yet. Melting into his embrace, you breathe him in, combing your fingers through his tousled hair. You smile against the swell of emotion stinging behind your eyelids. Struggling with a hitch in your own throat, your voice shrinks to nothing but a hoarse whisper, "you never have to do it again, okay."

“Thank you,” he manages in a watery voice, pushing his face into the bottom of your neck. Words fail him but not because he can't talk about his feelings, but because words are too simple to express the depth of emotion he has for you. When you're inside his arms, cradled against his chest, with his lips against your temple, you hear all the things he doesn't say out loud. 

**

His love language is handing you a bowl with two scoops of ice cream when you’d only asked for one. He rolls his eyes and kisses the corner of your mouth, ‘you never only want one’

It's tickle fights and sappy old movies and saving all the red m&m’s for you because those are your favourite. 

He's the man all your friends wish they had.

He's also the man that will casually rest his hand on your thigh under Santiago's crowded dinner table and secretly start tracing letters on your jeans, slowly spelling out what he wants to do to you afterwards. He is enjoying the fact that you're too distracted to finish eating now, and if you so much as look at him, he’ll stop. 

His love language is being in the kitchen late at night, dancing to an old playlist, your soft curves fitted into his solid frame. One of you had a craving for cookies and someone left them in the oven a bit too long and now they're a little too brown. But it’s not his fault that Andy Kim started singing from the tiny speaker on the table and Frankie needed every inch of you pressed against him and it still wasn’t enough. 

Maybe his jaw accidentally, on purpose, brushed the spot at the bottom of your neck that made goosebumps shiver down your arms. Maybe his mouth lingered on the skin behind your ear and trailed up across your cheekbone, nudging your face upward, his breath mingling with yours.

Maybe his mouth still tasted like the sweet ache of your first orgasm from earlier that evening when you’d left Santiago's place and Frankie couldn't unlock the door of his truck fast enough to nudge you back across the seat, his eyes all dark and hungry like he'd had this on his mind all day. And maybe he did. Maybe he'd parked here at the far end of the block on purpose knowing this dead-end would be dark and quiet at this time of night. His door swung wide, he’d stood between your legs on the broken pavement, using two fingers and a thumb to loosen the button on your jeans, a gruff edge to his voice, 'Lay down for me, baby.’

His mouth was slow and lazy but his hands were greedy, tugging your jeans down just to your knees, trapping your legs together and lifting them, bending his head underneath your knees, leaving just enough space between your legs for his mouth. 

When you finally do make it to his place, maybe you end up on the couch straddling his lap. 

The only thing better than the slide of your tongue in his mouth is the sweet stretch of you around his cock. He’s fairly certain nothing will ever exist beyond the flare in your eyes when he twitches inside you and he feels every snug inch of you clench tight and wet.  

‘...so fucking good for me’

You are unable to move beneath the solid weight of his hands on your hips, his grip on your supple thighs, where they press and dig and tease. He likes it when your fingers are lost in his overgrown curls. 

Something deep in his stomach blazes white and hot when you tell him how fucking good he makes you feel. Seated as deep as he can go, he rocks, fucking into you that much further, giving you the friction you need. He likes to bunch the thin fabric of your t-shirt in one fist, yanking it just high enough so he can see how hard your nipples are. 

He wants to chase the deafening arousal in his stomach when you beg him to ‘just please fuck you already.’ 

He grins, his breath hot, his voice like gravel right above your ear, 'gimme one more first'  

The sound of your muffled whimper against his mouth nearly sends him over the edge so he slips his thumb down, circling once, twice.  Your sharp gasp pulls all the air out of his mouth. He likes the sight of you falling apart; he doesn't even wait for you to come down this time because his favourite thing to do is fuck you through it. One solid hand anchoring your hip firmly in place, the other arm caged across your back, gripping the top of your shoulder for leverage, he finally gives you what you want. 

Eventually, you make it to the bed; his bare legs tangled with yours, his ear resting on your chest. The soothing echo of your heartbeat combined with your fingers sifting through his hair soothes every frayed edge inside his mind. 

He wants your scent in his bed forever. He wants to come home from work to see your car in his driveway; he wants your toothbrush next to his, he wants to go grocery shopping with you, he wants to fall asleep with you curled into him, he wants to wake up every morning and reach for your warmth and leave kisses on your shoulder not wanting to get out of bed. 

“Frankie,” you whisper. 

“Hmm?”

“I can hear you thinking.”

A soft puff of air escapes his nose, you see his sheepish smile as he nuzzles his face into your t-shirt, tracing his nose along your exposed clavicle. “Is that so?” 

"You can tell me," you offer.

He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow. He’s been laying on you so long that his hair is flattened on one side; there is a crease on his cheek from a seam on your t-shirt. 

He dips his head, craving the softness of your lips; not letting you read what’s on his glass face. In a slow succession of kisses one after another, I don’t want to live without you, he pours forever into your lungs, you’re everything.

His mouth is unhurried, his stubble tickling softly, and it sends you into a hazy half-awake state where breathing no longer matters. You are nothing without the weight of his body beside you, without the sweet warmth of his mouth, without the backs of his fingers tracing the bare skin at your waist.  How could you ever define the way you bloom under his touch? An entire lifetime could go by inside this moment, clinging to his ribs, with your hand against the rough side of his jaw, his forehead pressed against yours, and you’d happily allow it. 

All too soon he pulls away. It’s no small feat to open your eyes again but when you do, he’s watching you, his head slanted, one side of his mouth tilting upwards, the curve of it reaching his eye, making it crease. The look in his eyes makes your heart twist.  

“What was all that?” you stutter, surprised your voice even works after that.

His words are right there, taking up space in his mouth, he’s never been surer of anything in his life. Move in with me.

“Let's make cookies,” comes out instead.

Your eyes widen because you know he’s not joking. “NOW?” 

“You’re gonna say no to chocolate chip cookies,” he nips at your neck, unable to hide a smile, “really?”

“I don’t think you realize, my legs stopped working like two hours ago.”

“We don’t even have to bake them,” he sits up, throwing his t-shirt over his head, pulling his jeans over his bare ass. He bends down to kiss you again, that boyish grin working its magic. “We can just eat it outta the bowl with a spoon.”

“Fine, but I am not putting pants on.”  

“Even better.” 

He’s managed to keep his hands off you long enough to measure the butter and sugar and flour, and when he’s done mixing, you reach into the bowl for a taste, he tries to swat your hand away. But you're faster. 

Barely. 

"Wanna lick," teasing him, you twist away with a mouthful of cookie dough. There’s a high-pitched squeal as he snares your waist, pulling you back with frightening speed. 

The hand around your waist playfully digging while you squirm, the devious crinkle around his eyes a reminder that you are powerless against his quiet strength. The single thought sends a low tingle of arousal down your spine. 

With his free hand, he calmly reaches for the bowl on the counter.

"You were saying?" his voice like velvet, low and playful, one eyebrow quirked up, two of his fingers armed with playful retaliation and now you’re laughing so hard no sound is coming out.

"Hey…" you manage, between breathless giggles, ‘be nice,' struggling to hold his wrist away with both hands, trying to anticipate his next move, the wicked glint in his eyes sends another deep shiver down your back. 

"Ohhh," he hums, "I’ll be nice alrigh-," 

But you don’t give him a chance to finish the thought, distracting him with a wet swipe of your mouth along his bottom lip. 

He melts like a sugar cube on your tongue. 

Taking full advantage of the golden lapse where his brain stutters and stops before he chases your mouth, you pull his fingers into your mouth sucking every bit of sweetness onto your tongue. 

His gaze falls to your mouth, to his fingers buried to the first knuckle. 

Somewhere between his ‘fuck, you’re such a tease,’ and your ‘two can play this game, sweetheart,’ the walls of his tiny kitchen echo with laughter. At some point, he finally manages to cage you against the counter.

"Mm," he growls against your lips, "you taste like chocolate and sex." 

You very nearly lose yourself in the dark heat of his eyes.  "No babe, that’s you." 

Surprisingly enough, there's enough cookie dough left for a single pan. The light dusting of cocoa powder on his cheek currently matches the state of your kitchen and now you have twelve minutes to kill before you can take them out of the oven. Leaving the bowls in the sink, he pulls you against him again. 

'C’mere, it’s a good song, dance with me’ and well, you're now occupied with the lingering taste of his tongue inside your mouth and you, just, sort of, forget to set the oven timer.

At some point, the small of your back bumps against the wall, your hands tracing the smooth length of his back underneath his t-shirt, slipping down into the back pockets of his jeans, a brand new ache already throbbing where the bulge of his zipper pins you in place, his soft little moan, hotter than sin. You feel him twitch against the seam of your panties, his fingers blindly finding the warm skin under your shirt, cupping the weight of bare breasts, thumbs scraping, teasing. The whole world fades away when his eyes darken like this. 

The digital clock on the coffee machine blinks into single digits and you find yourselves sitting on the floor, backs against the cupboards, catching your breath. At some point, the oven was shut off, oven mitts were involved, and you'll never be able to look at double chocolate chip cookies the same way again. Leaning heavily on his shoulder, one bare leg still splayed over his, it takes considerable effort to keep your eyes open. When you look up, there is a tender ache in your chest at the sight of Frankie's mussed hair and permanently flushed cheeks, his eyes drowsy and sweet, shining with a gentleness that takes your breath away. 

He lifts your hand, bringing your knuckles to his warm lips, before ducking down and capturing your mouth with his.  Your throat fills with a fierce rush of pastel pink words. Foolish words like always and forever, sugary blossoms that dissolve on your tongue, permeating your bloodstream, swapping your heart for a glowing blissful mess. You want to tell him. You want to tell him you cannot live without him. 

Holding a glass of milk, he assures you around a mouthful of cookie still warm from the baking pan, "if you dunk the cookie in the milk long enough, you can barely tell they’re burnt."

And it's fucking perfect.

~~ 

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Going To California

AO3 Link: Read Here

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word count: 6,964

Summary: When Sam and Eileen back out of going to California, Dean and Y/N take a trip to the golden state in their place. Dean reflects on his relationship with Y/N, making a decision on what his next step should be.

Warnings: Lots of fluff, Dean being sweet (yes, that’s a warning), Swearing, Smut, Dirty talk, Oral sex (Male and Female receiving), Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it people), more fluff.

Music: Going to California by Led Zeppelin (Dean and Y/N starting their journey scene)

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Time stamp #3 is here! I’m so excited to share it with you all! There’s so much more to come for these two, but more on that at a later stage! ;) As always, happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Life’s Lessons Saga Masterlist

Dean walked through the house from the kitchen, twisting off the caps on two beers, the necks of the bottles resting between his fingers. He stepped out onto the back porch, walking over to his little brother, who was manning the grill while he was gone. He handed one over to him and then took over turning the burgers. It was a warm evening, the sun slowly setting and bathing the sky in a light purple hue. A soft breeze started, making it a perfect night to sit out and eat dinner.

It had been a while since the brothers saw each other, Sam having been busy with case after case, so when the weekend came and he had nothing work related to do, they made the plan for Sam and Eileen to come over for dinner to his house. Eileen had said she didn’t mind them coming over to her and Sam’s apartment, but Y/N had put her foot down, because no one was going to let the pregnant woman do anything at this point.

Tapping Sam on the shoulder, Dean gestured for him to move. Sam frowned, tapping his older brother back in defiance, not making a move to step away.

“Alright, scoot, let me show you how it’s done,” Dean muttered, as he pushed Sam away from the grill.

“Dude, I know what I’m doing,” Sam grumbled, as he moved to the side, his brother taking over, the flames of the grill fanning a little higher.

“No, you don’t,” Dean stated, chuckling when he saw Sam roll his eyes. He flipped the burgers over, one side browned to perfection already.

“How’s things?” Sam asked, smiling.

“Good,” Dean replied, moving away from the grill slightly, as the flames were too hot. “Amazing, actually.”

“That’s great, man,” Sam said, his smile growing.

Dean nodded, biting his lip as he wondered whether he should tell his little brother what he had been thinking about recently.

“Dean.” Sam got his older brother’s attention when he saw the look on his face. That one always meant there was something Dean wasn’t telling him. “What’s going on?”

“I, uh…” Dean smiled, unable to hide it anymore. “I think this is it.”

Sam frowned slightly as he didn’t completely understand. However, his eyes widened as things became clear very quickly. “Wait… you mean…?”

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean muttered, smirking. “I wanna ask Y/N to marry me.”

“Oh my god.” Sam was in complete shock, but if it were even possible, the smile on his face became bigger. “Oh my god!”

“Shh,” Dean hissed, looking back into the house behind Sam. “She’ll fucking hear you, man.”

“Sorry,” Sam apologized, quietly. “This is great, Dean.”

Dean chuckled as he nodded. “I know. It’s insane, it’s only been 4 months that we’ve been together officially, but it just feels right.”

“So, when-when are you going to do it?” Sam asked, leaning back against the outdoor dining table as he looked at his brother.

“I don’t know, man. I’m just… I’m scared if I do it too soon and things go south, then it’s all screwed to hell. I just wanna enjoy our time together, we’re having so much fun… I don’t want to ruin that,” Dean explained, his shoulders tensed as his jaw clenched.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think that’ll happen,” Sam reassured his older brother, offering him a soft smile.

“Thanks, Sammy.” Dean raised his hand and tapped Sam’s shoulder. “Let’s just keep it on the down low, for now. Okay?”

“Yeah. You bet.” Sam nodded and held his beer out. Dean smirked and clinked his bottle against Sam’s.

Y/N walked out onto the back porch, holding a tray with all the fixings for burgers on top of it. Eileen walked out behind her, a beer in one hand for Y/N, a glass of water in the other for herself. Putting everything down on the table, she helped Eileen sit down, pushing the table back slightly to give her more room with her round belly.

“How are you?” she signed, smiling.

Eileen frowned, shaking her head. “I feel like a whale,” she responded, signing but also speaking loud enough that Sam heard her.

“You are not.” Sam signed as he came over and kissed the top of her head, but she looked up at him and glared.

“Easy for you to say. I can’t see my feet,” she signed at him, shaking her head.

Sam tried to say something, but they were interrupted by Dean announcing that the burgers were ready.

He walked over to the table and put the platter down, moving behind Y/N as he passed her. Grabbing his hand, she stopped him and leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a sensual kiss. Dean’s arms came around her waist and pulled her in closer. He pulled away after a moment, smiling against her lips.

“Kiss me like that again some time. Okay?” he asked, smirking.

“Okay,” she laughed, pecking his cheek.

“Ugh, not while we’re eating,” Sam groaned, looking away from them.

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean tapped his little brother on the head, ducking away when Sam tried to get him back. He sat down next to Y/N, chuckling as he started assembling his burger.

They all started to eat, everyone complimenting Dean on the taste of the patties.

“So, there’s something I wanted to ask you guys.” Sam got Dean and Y/N’s attention after swallowing his bite, looking between both of them.

“Shoot,” Dean muttered around the morsel in his mouth.

“How do you both feel about a little getaway to California?” Sam asked.

“Aww Sammy, are you asking us to come on your little trip with Eileen?” Dean asked in return, teasing his little brother. Y/N chuckled lightly, nudging Dean’s arm to stop messing with him.

“No, I mean just the two of you,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. He looked at Eileen and she laughed. “A friend from college owns a beach house there, but he and his wife are going to be in Europe for the summer.”

“Man, that’s the life,” Y/N sighed as Dean nodded to what she said.

“And we would go and keep an eye on things for two weeks before his sister comes to take care of the place, but Eileen feels like she can’t make the trip in the car,” Sam explained, looking at his wife before looking back at his brother.

“And I can’t fly now, so that sucks too,” Eileen signed, pouting. Y/N frowned and held her hand across the table, squeezing it.

“So, what do you guys say?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. “You want to go?”

Dean and Y/N looked at each other. A smile grew on her face, not even having to think it over. Dean smirked, biting his lip. He turned to Sam and gave him a simple nod. “Hell yeah, we’re in.”

“Great, I’ll let him know,” Sam informed, quickly taking out his phone and sending a text to his friend.

They all continued eating, talking and laughing as the sun completely set, enjoying the summer breeze that blew around them. As Sam and Eileen left and Dean and Y/N got ready for bed, neither of them could keep the smiles off their faces. A little two-week getaway to California was exactly what they needed, and Y/N couldn’t wait to spend some uninterrupted, quality time with her boyfriend.

“So, you’re really not going to tell me why we’re driving instead of flying to California?”

Y/N dumped her bags in the trunk of the Impala, standing in front of Dean as he closed it and she waited for him to say something to her question. It was the same one that had come up a few days ago, while Dean and Y/N were at John and Mary’s for dinner. After she asked why they weren’t flying, his parents both laughed quietly to themselves and John added a “I’m sure Dean will tell you eventually” and left her to figure out the rest.

Dean got into the driver’s seat as Y/N got into the passenger’s side and turned to him, eying him suspiciously. He looked through his box of cassette tapes, ignoring her as she looked at him. She narrowed her eyes as a thought came to her, and the realisation quickly dawned on her as her eyes widened.

“Dean Winchester… are you scared of flying?” she asked, an amused smile gracing her face.

“No.” He was lying, and he knew he had no reason to; it’s not like she would make fun of him for it, but it was a little embarrassing for him.

“Dean.” She got his attention, smiling at him when he looked at her, clearly annoyed that she had figured it out. “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.”

“Exactly, so let’s forget about it,” he mumbled, choosing a tape and shoving the box back under the seat.

“You know that it’s the fastest and safest form travel, though, right?” she asked. She wanted to make him see there was nothing to fear. “And I would be right next you, talking you through the whole thing if you got scared.”

“Yeah, you’re not getting me in one of those flying death traps, sweetheart,” he declared, shoving the tape into the player.

She laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. You win. For now.”

The tape began to play, causing her to sigh as she heard the first few notes of “Going to California” by Led Zeppelin play out.

“A little on the nose, huh?” he asked, chuckling.

“A little, but it’s good,” she replied, leaning over and kissing him, softly.

“Alright,” he said, turning the key in the ignition of the Impala, grinning as it came to life. He turned to her, the smile not leaving his face. “You ready?”

“Absolutely,” she said, smiling wide.

Dean backed out of the driveway and took one last glance at the house, speeding off down the street, more than ready to spend two weeks in sunny California.

They drove for 11 hours, taking turns in driving after they would take a break at a rest stop. Y/N was glad he trusted her enough to drive his beloved Baby, after she had reassured him that she had driven an older car before and would be able to handle it. Luckily, it didn’t take too long for him to agree. However, when neither of them could afford to keep their eyes open any longer, Dean pulled into a motel somewhere outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Their heads hit the pillows of the uncomfortable bed and they fell asleep instantly, not caring what the mattress felt like because of how exhausted they were.

The next morning, they woke up early and got ready, had breakfast at a small diner across the street from the motel and were back on the road after they had eaten. Once again taking turns, they made it to Malibu in 10 hours, with Dean not really taking speed limits into account, citing he wanted to get there sooner. Y/N was annoyed but she couldn’t be too mad at him, knowing she couldn’t wait to get there either. By the time Dean did his poor rendition of Free Fallin’, it was around 6pm when they got there, stopping at a grocery store and picking up things they would need, before driving to the house.

As Dean drove down the streets lined with fancy beach houses, both he and Y/N started to feel a little awkward as they passed each one, knowing this wasn’t something they were used to. Looking down at her phone, Y/N confirmed the address and Dean pulled into the driveway, turning the car off. They both stared up at the white, two-storey house with large windows, a freshly mowed lawn and long path leading up to the front steps.

“Is it too late to go back?” he asked, turning to her.

She shook her head, moving across the seat and leaning into him. “We’re not going anywhere, but inside that house and just having a great two weeks to ourselves.”

“Damn straight,” he nodded with a small smile, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

He got out of the Impala and went over to the trunk, taking out the bags and closing it as Y/N walked ahead of him.

She keyed in the number on the lockbox that was given to them by Sam after he spoke to his friend, and took out the key to the large double doors of the house. She unlocked the door and swung them open, gasping as she walked in. The house was big but modest, which was a pleasant surprise as she walked through. Everything was open concept, the kitchen and living area leading out to the outdoor area, which had an amazing view of the ocean. Dean came in and dropped the bags near the staircase, immediately standing next to her as they looked out at the Pacific coast.

“I was right,” she muttered, quietly as the ocean breeze blew her hair back softly. “This must be the life.”

“Damn,” Dean whispered as he looked out at the sparkling blue ocean. A life like this wouldn’t be so bad he thought to himself as he walked out onto the balcony.

There were a few wicker armchairs, a coffee table and benches outside, along with a wooden dining set and on the far side of the outdoor area was a fire pit, with a few chairs around it. He sighed happily, smirking when he felt Y/N’s arms wrap around his waist, her lips pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck.

“Should we unpack?” she asked, softly as her lips brushed the skin of his neck.

“Yeah,” he replied, turning around and taking her hand in his as they walked into the house.

They both couldn’t wait to kick off their little trip in the golden state.

Y/N sighed contently, feeling the warmth of the sun against her face as it hit the shade above her. She crossed her bare legs that were out of the shade, extended on the beach chair and getting a great tan going. Pulling down her sunglasses with her finger, she smiled as she spotted her boyfriend coming out of the water, her own personal James Bond walking towards her, as he shook off the seawater from his hair. Beads of water dripped down his muscles, glistening as the sun shined down on him. She bit her lip as she thought about everything that she couldn’t wait to do with him when they got back to the house. He smirked at her as he got to the lounge chair, picking up his towel and wiping himself down.

They had been in California for a few days and were having an incredible time. They had spent their days exploring Malibu and the surrounding areas, driving around in the Impala and stopping whenever they would see a look-out spot, taking a selfie everywhere they went. They had made dinner and just relaxed for a few nights at the house, but later that night they were going out for dinner to a restaurant they saw while they were driving around and really wanted to go to.

Y/N continued to watch Dean as he sat down on the beach chair next to hers, the shade covering his face as he leaned back. He turned his head and smirked at her, giving her a wink.

“You’re so obvious, you know that right?” he teased, knowing she had been checking him out.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, pushing her glasses up.

He chuckled, looking out at the gorgeous view in front of him.

“Water’s great, not too cold right now,” he told her, his eyes closing as he felt the sun over the shade warming his face.

“Might have to get in later,” she said, smiling but was more than happy to stay there and enjoy the view in front of her.

“Or… now,” Dean suggested, standing up from the beach chair and holding his hand out to her. His eyes roamed over her red with white polka dots high waist bikini, his lip tucking in between his teeth as he gazed at her.

“But I’m so comfortable,” she protested, wriggling in against the chair. “And you were just in the water.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned down and took her hand in his, tugging on it. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re coming in with me.”

She looked up at him with a frown but gazed out at the ocean, the waves mesmerizing as they came up and receded back.

“Alright,” she agreed, a smile playing at her lips. She got up and took off her wide-brim beach hat, dropping it on the chair along with her sunglasses. Her hand slipped back into his, as they walked out towards the water.

Dean and Y/N moved through the waves and under once they got to waist height. They swam and splashed around, laughing and enjoying their time in the water. They stayed for a while, before they knew they had to get out and back to the house. They swam to the shore, walking out onto the sand and wiping themselves down before packing up the chairs and their belongings. They walked from the public beach to the private one the property was situated on, leaving the chairs and soiled flip-flops in the lower mud room before they walked up the stairs to the house.

They took turns having a shower, as Y/N refused Dean’s offer of showering together to avoid the obvious distraction that he always posed whenever they did. After she had freshened up, Y/N took a little time to get ready, wanting things to be perfect. There wasn’t anything different about tonight, but she still wanted to make it special for the two of them. This was their first little trip together and it had been wonderful so far, so she couldn’t wait to continue to have an amazing time with Dean for the rest of their days there.

She kept her make-up light and her hair open, sweeping it over her shoulder. She wore a red A-line dress with small, white floral pattern and a sweetheart neckline with off-shoulder straps. She put on her strappy nude heels, picked up her purse and walked out of the bedroom, her heels loud against the wood planks of the staircase.

Dean was dressed in a navy-blue half-sleeve, button-up shirt, blue jeans and his boots and sitting in the living area, waiting on Y/N. He looked up when he heard her shoes against the wooden floors, smiling when he saw her. He got up from the armchair and met her halfway, stopping in front of her to cup her face in his hands. He leaned in, kissing her softly before he pulled away, grinning at her.

“You look amazing,” he told her, his smile beaming.

She felt her cheeks heat up as she leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You clean up pretty well, too, handsome.”

“Ready?” he asked, moving back and instantly taking her hand in his.

“Ready,” she confirmed, smiling.

They left the house and locked up, Dean walking to the car and opening the door for Y/N. She pecked his lips before getting in, watching as he closed her door and then walked over to the driver’s side. He got in and smiled at her, immediately starting the car and backing out of the driveway, heading in the direction of the restaurant. Dean parked down the street once they arrived, taking Y/N’s hand as they walked down. Having made a reservation already, they were led to their table quickly, in the back outdoor area, sitting across from each other. There were fairy lights above them, wrapped around the beams and a candle at each table, bathing the area in a warm glow. Y/N beamed as she watched Dean taking everything in, a soft, peaceful smile on his face. She was so glad he was getting this break from work, knowing he deserved a little time off after working so hard.

The waitress came around and took their drink orders, coming back quickly with Dean’s beer and Y/N’s Negroni. She leaned forward on the table, taking Dean’s hand in hers and clasping it, tightly. There was a peaceful hum of patrons around them, but she didn’t see anything past the love of her life in front of her.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, softly.

She nodded, looking down at their joined hands. “I am. I don’t think I’ve ever been more okay in my life.”

He grinned, unable to stop his heart from skipping a beat when he heard what she said. He felt exactly the same way.

“I guess Sammy didn’t have such a bad idea about us coming here, huh?” he asked, chuckling softly.

“Definitely not,” she replied, shaking her head as she sipped her cocktail. “I’m so glad we could do this.”

“Me too,” he agreed, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

After their drinks, they ordered dinner. As they ate, Y/N looked around to see that a live band had started, smiling as they played a few familiar tunes, causing people at other tables to sing along. As the waitress cleared their plates, Dean looked over at Y/N and smiled, seeing her lost in the music as she swayed to it.

“Ready to go?” he asked. He smiled when she turned around and faced him, a content expression on her face. “Maybe we can take a walk along the pier?”

“Yeah,” she said, softly as she nodded. She picked up her purse and followed him out once they returned his card, linking her hand with his as they walked down to the pier.

The weather was perfect, a pleasant breeze dancing around them, the salty sea air mixing through it. They walked along the pier, hand in hand, in a slow and peaceful pace, the waves washing up onto the shore along with the music coming from the restaurant the only sounds that they could hear. Dean turned to face Y/N, as his hand moved around her hip and brought her close to him, taking her hand in his as her other one curved over his shoulder. They swayed back and forth slowly, basking in the serenity around them.

“Kinda wanted it to be just us when we did this,” he told her, looking down into her eyes.

“Good call,” she stated, leaning up and kissing him, softly. “This is much better.”

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” he wondered, clearing his throat nervously.

She nodded, smiling up at him. “Of course.”

“I know… I know we put getting married and having kids on the table real early, but…” he started, but took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts to speak coherently. “You still want all those things, right?”

She was slightly taken aback, but a reassuring smile graced her face. “Dean… I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

He breathed out, relieved as he nodded. “I know that, I do. I just-”

Y/N leaned up, pushing herself up onto her tiptoes despite wearing heels, and kissed him, stopping whatever negative thought he was about to have. She kissed him sensually, putting everything she felt for him into it, before she pulled away and looked into his eyes.

“When it comes to what I want for us… there’s nothing for you to worry about, Dean,” she said, as she moved in closer, resting her head against his chest as they swayed to the music. “I love you and I know we’re going to spend our lives together, forever.”

“I love you,” he whispered, leaning his cheek against her head.

Y/N’s hand left his and moved up around his neck, the other sliding up from his shoulder to lock around him, as she pushed herself up and kissed him, a little harder than before. Dean’s hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her up as he held her close, her feet dangling above the ground. Suddenly desperate for each other, she tugged at the collar of shirt as their lips moved against each other’s, unable to pull away. She nipped at his bottom lip as her hands moved into his short hair, bringing him closer to her.

Dean pulled away, however, breathing heavily as he smirked at her. “Let’s get outta here.”

Dean put Y/N down, their hands immediately linking as they rushed down the pier, her heels loud against the wooden planks as they hurried back to the car. Dean drove at the required speed, getting annoyed as he wanted nothing more than to hightail it back to the house. It didn’t help that Y/N had slid over on the bench seat, kissing and nipping at his neck, distracting him.

“Sweetheart, you gotta stop or we won’t make it back,” he said, a choked laugh leaving his mouth as she sucked at his pulse point.

“Fine.” She sighed, annoyed that she had stop as she moved away from him, sliding back against the passenger side of the car. She had been more than ready for him all day, their day out at the beach only making her desire for him stronger.

They made it back to the house a few short moments later and hurried to the entrance. Y/N struggled to open the door as Dean wrapped his arms around her waist, his turn to pay attention to the soft skin of her neck with his lips. She turned the lock and it finally clicked, swinging the door open as they staggered in. Y/N turned to Dean and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. He kicked the door closed, both of them stumbling further into the house.

“Dean,” she moaned, her lips brushing against his. “I need you.”

“Fuck, I need you too, sweetheart,” he groaned, in between kisses. “Been teasing me all day, especially in that bikini…”

He picked her up, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he held her tight. She bit her lip as she looked into his eyes, moving in to kiss him again, their mouths rough and sensual against each other. She felt the bulge of his jeans against her, knowing he was hard already. He walked them towards the staircase, relying on instinct to get up to the bedroom, considering he couldn’t see anything past Y/N and her lips against his. He made it up to the room without tripping, setting her down as his hands moved to the zip on the side of her dress. She smiled up at him as she made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. She shimmied out of the dress once he pulled the zipper down, letting it fall and pool around her feet, leaving her in a pastel pink strapless bra and matching lace panties.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, as he leaned in and kissed her again, a little softer this time. However, knowing how much he wanted her after a day where the tension was building up constantly, he deepened the kiss.

Y/N walked backwards as she undid his belt and unzipped his jeans, blindly, the action second nature to her after having done it so many times. Dean placed his hands on her waist and pushed her onto the bed, only rough enough for a small moan to leave her as she looked up at him. He bent down and took off his boots, ridding himself of his jeans and boxers at the same time. His hard cock sprung free from the confines of his boxers, causing her to bite her lip at the sight. No matter how many times she had seen him naked, it still stunned her that she got to have him.

She sat up on the bed, moving to sit on the edge and closer to Dean. She looked up at him with that smile of hers he loved, that mischievous one that always let him know what kind of mood she was in and took hold of his cock. Dropping some of her saliva onto his shaft, her hand wrapped around and pumped up and down, slowly at first but started to build up. She leaned forward, her mouth sucking at the tip of cock, licking away the pre-cum. She sunk her mouth lower, taking him in inch by inch, until he hit the back of her throat. Dean groaned as she began to bob her head, his hands cupping her face as he looked down her. She looked up at him as she moved back and forth, her mouth gliding over his cock, her hand wrapped around the base in a light grip.

“Fuck, you’re too good at that, sweetheart,” he groaned out, his thumb stroking her hollowed cheek.

Pulling back, she licked at the tip of cock, her tongue circling it. She grinned as her hand stroked him and she leaned forward, kissing his hip bone. “You love seeing your cock in my mouth, don’t you?”

He growled as he cupped her face and leaned down, kissing her roughly. “Fuck yeah, love it so much,” he muttered against her lips.

“You taste so good, Dean,” she sighed, pecking his lips.

He hummed as he kissed her again, his hands moving to her shoulders as he lightly pushed her, her back hitting the bed. “So do you, gorgeous.”

Moving over her, he leaned down to kiss along her neck, leaving soft nips at her skin. He drifted down, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down her chest, nipping at her covered breasts, down her stomach and stopping at her covered mound. He kissed her inner thigh, his fingers rubbing over her panties, feeling how wet she already was.

“Did sucking my cock get you this wet, baby?” he asked, chuckling.

She looked down the length of her body, their eyes meeting as she nodded.

He grinned as his fingers slipped into the edge of her panties, pulling them down and over her legs, tossing them over his shoulder.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, as he leaned down and planted a soft kiss to her sex. A low moan left her mouth, her hands gripping the covers beneath her as her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation of what was about to happen. The things he could do with his mouth still amazed her.

With his tongue, he licked a long stripe from her entrance to her clit, lightly circling the nub. Pressing his mouth over it, his tongue continued to move around the bundle of nerves, causing a moan to fall from her lips.

“Fuck,” she sighed, as she looked down at him. She threw her head back when he drifted down, his tongue licking along the length of her folds before it moved down her entrance. He alternated between sucking at her clit and licking her folds, bringing his fingers to her wet canal and inserting them, thrusting them in and out in a slow rhythm, but picking up the pace as her moans became louder.

“You taste so fucking incredible, Y/N,” he groaned between his ministrations, looking up at her.

“Feels so good,” she moaned loudly, gripping his hair tightly in her hands, bringing him in closer. “Oh god, Dean… fuck, I-I love what you do to me.”

He grinned as his fingers moved steadily within her, ready to bring her to the edge. “Yeah? You love feeling my tongue on your clit, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she gasped, as her hands continued to comb through his short hair.

“You love my fingers inside you?” he asked, emphasising the question by moving them a little faster, the pads of his fingers rubbing along her walls. He felt her clench around them, signalling she was close.

“Fuck, yeah,” she moaned, breathlessly. “I fucking love them so much.”

He smiled against her sex, kissing her skin as he looked up at her. “You’re close, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“Yeah, so close.” She nodded, frantically, ready to let go. “Make me cum, Dean.”

“You wanna cum on tongue, don’t you?” He smirked, already knowing that’s what she would want.

“Yeah, wanna cum on your tongue,” she whimpered.

Dean leaned in, sucking the nub into his mouth, his fingers picking up the pace. He thrust in and out of her, feeling her grip around him as he moved them within her. He felt her getting wetter, knowing she was close. He moved his mouth down, her moans rising in volume as his fingers continued. The coil in her stomach tightened more and more, bringing her closer to her release.

“Dean, oh my god! Fuck!” she shrieked, as the coil snapped. She moaned through her release, wetting Dean’s fingers and his mouth, his tongue lapping up her juices and continuing to lazily thrust his fingers as she came down from her high.

When he was satisfied that he taken everything she gave him, Dean leaned up and hovered over her, leaning down to kiss Y/N. She moaned at the taste of herself on his tongue, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him closer. She pushed her body into him and turned, rolling him onto his back while he was distracted by her lips. Pulling away, she sat up and looked into his eyes. He smiled as he looked up at her, his hands sliding over the smooth skin of her legs.

She planted her hands on his chest, shifting back until she felt his cock against her heat. Reaching down with her right hand, she took a hold of his cock as she lifted herself up, lining it up to her entrance. She sighed, letting out a shaky breath as she sank down, his length completely sheathed by her walls. Dean groaned as he felt her heat around his cock, his hands moving up to her hips and holding onto her. She began to rock back and forth, her hips thrusting down as he brought his up to meet hers, in a slow and sensual pace. She ran her fingers along his chest, moaning softly.

“How do I feel, Dean?” she asked, as she looked down at him. She grinded her hips down, feeling his cock deep within her.

“Amazing,” he replied, as he smiled up at her. He let her control the rhythm, meeting her hips as he thrusted up into her.

She leaned down, bringing her face closer to his. “You love feeling me wrapped around your cock, don’t you?” she asked, her voice low and husky.

“Fucking love it, sweetheart,” he growled, gripping her hips tighter in his hands.

“Love feeling you inside me, Dean,” she whispered against his lips, kissing him softly. “Love feeling your big cock inside my tight, wet pussy.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, looking into her eyes. Holding her close, he sat up, his chest pressing against her covered breasts. His hands moved up her back, unclasping her bra and pulling it away from her body. He leaned in, kissing the soft flesh of her breasts, leaving soft bites along her skin. Her hands combed into his hair, bringing him closer into her. She moaned as she felt him take her left nipple into his mouth, licking over the nub, stiff from the air in the room.

“I love you so much, Dean,” she whispered into his ear, her fingertips lightly scraping through his hair. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Releasing her nipple with slight pop, he looked up into her eyes, as she continued rock her hips down on his.

“You don’t ever have to worry about how I feel,” she reassured him, reiterating what she told him at the pier. “I’m yours. Forever.”

She leaned down, kissing him passionately as she gripped the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands moved up her back as he pulled her in, not wanting to let go of her. He was completely floored by the love he saw in her eyes. He knew he shouldn’t be; he knew she loved him, but somehow it still shocked him that anyone could love him as much as she did. Yet again, he thought about grateful he was for her.

“I love you so fucking much, Y/N,” he whispered back, his breath brushing against her lips.

She moaned, feeling the pressure in her belly building up again, as she continued to meet his thrusts.

“Dean,” she moaned against his lips, looking into his eyes. Her hips picked up pace, chasing her release. “I’m so close.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he muttered, as he held her tighter.

The familiar feeling rose in her stomach, telling her she was closer as their hips continued to smack into each other, their thrusts faster than before.

“Cum with me,” she whimpered, her eyes not looking away from his, not even for a second. “Dean, please… cum with me.”

“Oh fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. His hands flew down to her hips, gripping tight as he felt his cock pulse inside her, her walls clenching around him. “Fuck, let go for me, sweetheart. Fucking cum on my cock.”

For a second time that night, the band snapped, a string of moans erupting from her lips as she threw her head back, her hands tight in his hair. He grunted as he dropped his head onto her shoulder. He felt his cock throb, a strangled moan leaving his mouth as spurts of cum bathed her walls, mixing with her climax.

They breathed heavily as they came down from their high, feeling only the frantic heartbeats in their chests. As they started to come down, the rush of the waves on the beach reached their ears from the open door to the balcony. Dean lifted his head from Y/N’s shoulder, his hands coming up to cup her face, bringing her close to him. He kissed her, lovingly as he held her tight. He didn’t want to let go of her. Hearing her words as they made love made his heart soar. He had never felt that way before her. Y/N picked up on his quietness, pulling away to look into his eyes.

“You okay?” she asked, smiling softly.

Dean smiled in return, nodding slowly. “Never been better, gorgeous.”

Y/N squealed and laughed as Dean turned them over, throwing her down on the bed. They continued their passionate exchange into the early hours, finally falling asleep to the moon shining into the room and the soothing sounds of the ocean.

The next two weeks flew by, and before they knew it, it was time for Dean and Y/N to leave the beach house behind and return to their normal lives in Lawrence. Dean packed up the Impala, a small frown on his face as he did so. He didn’t want to leave, having had such an amazing time there with his girlfriend. They had so much fun together, swimming in the ocean during the day, walks on the beach at night, going out for dinner or cooking at the house, and absolutely ravishing each other after all of it. This trip had not only been relaxing, but a great eye-opener for him. He already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y/N but hearing it from her only solidified the decision he had already made.

He was going to ask Y/N to marry him.

It may have seemed too early in their relationship to think that way, but if he could’ve married her back at Christmas, one kiss into their relationship and all, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat. As he closed the trunk and leaned against the car to wait for Y/N, he started thinking about how to go about things. He knew he had to talk to his mom about her ring, hoping that it would be okay with her to give it to Y/N.

He lifted his head as he heard the front door to the house shut. He smiled as he saw Y/N walking down the path, her long, printed summer dress flowing in the breeze as she came towards him. She smiled softly as she got closer to him, an eyebrow lifted as she saw his expression.

“What?” she asked, laughing slightly.

He shook his head, not wanting her to clue into anything he was thinking just yet. “Nothing. Just… thank you.”

“For what?” She stood in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders as she looked at him.

“For coming with me on this trip, for dealing with me… for just being amazing,” he told her, placing his hands on her hips.

“You’re pretty easy to deal with, Dean Winchester,” she said, softly as she leaned up, kissing him.

“You say that now,” he said, chuckling.

“I’ll say it always,” she countered, kissing him again quickly, before she moved away to the passenger side of the car.

As they pulled away from the house and made their way onto the highway, Dean smirked as he looked out at the road ahead of him. He glanced at Y/N, smiling as he saw her texting, no doubt telling Sam they had left and would be back home in a day. As he drove, he couldn’t help but think about everything that had changed in his life, and how much more it would continue to do so. He couldn’t help but think about how happy he was, how much more confident he was in himself, and how much better his life had become.

For all of that and so much more, he knew he had the beautiful woman sitting beside him to thank.

-x-

If you’re crossed out, I can’t tag you :(

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[guqin-and-flute]

Are You Here to Stop Me?--Chapter 4

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [First post in Peony to Lotus Verse]

[Ao3 Series]

[I had the hardest time shaking this man and making plot fall out, he was wholly uncooperative.]

This was all such fucking disaster.

A-jie was sick, the Jiang were once again yanked into a political fiasco that they had to pay for with their own reputation, there was a fierce corpse puppet in his home--a home that, apparently, had already been invaded by the Jin Clan demanding answers to said political fiasco while its master wasn’t even there. In a few days time, it would be invaded again by strange Wens he didn’t know or want.

If his mother were alive, she would kill him. He would probably deserve it. He didn’t know what his father would think. He would probably be disappointed--either that he didn’t think of it in the first place or for his resentment.

He stood frozen by the door, anxiously watching Wen Qing treat a barely conscious A-jie. It wasn't like he had never seen his sister feverish and weak before, but it scared him the same every single time. To know that she was in pain and he couldn’t do anything about it. To know that this could be the illness that would take her from him. That this could be the last time that….He gnawed on the inside of his cheek and folded his arms tight across his chest to keep them from fidgeting at his sides.

Jin Guangyao seemed to think everything was under control--at least, that’s what he had said. It would have been far more comforting if it hadn’t been in such a distant voice while being unable to look away from A-jie. Clutching her hand in a white knuckled grip. Expression all strained and pale with badly concealed terror.

This is your plan! Jiang Cheng wanted to scream as he clenched his aching fists. I did this because you said it would work! You’re the one that’s supposed to know what you’re doing!

What he wouldn’t give to actually know what the hell he was doing. Being an adult couldn’t just be this, right? Just guessing and grasping around in the dark, tripping like you’re wearing your father’s too big robes? Every other person he met seemed to be controlled and mature, while he was barely treading water--hell, even Wei Wuxian did the things he did with confidence. It had to get better at some point, because, right now, this mess was embarrassing--enraging. But most of all, it was terrifying.

What the hell should he do? What was right?

A-jie kept breathlessly trying to tell them all that she was alright, that they should rest and continue preparing. But she could barely keep her eyes open. Her head lolled around like a floppy doll. Every once in a while, she was wracked with violent, hacking coughs that shook her and left her gasping.

When she whispered Jiang Cheng’s name and raised a trembling hand as Wen Qing stepped away to prepare something, he practically dove to her side, his knees slamming painfully into the floor in his haste. Clasping her hand in both of his, he found it freezing, so he chafed it gently between his palms. “A-jie?”

“You...must be...so tired.” She smiled weakly, eyes slurring to the Wen child who had fallen asleep on the other pillow, leaving grubby little smudges all over the bedding. “All of you. I’m fine. Go. Sleep.” Even this short speech left her breathless, then coughing, wet and harsh. She trembled as Jin Guangyao helped her sit up and held her close, stroking her back.

Jiang Cheng hated everything about this. He was going to kill Wei Wuxian.

She wasn’t wrong, though. His limbs felt like practice weights, his overworked core throbbed like a pulled muscle within him. (His core? Wei Wuxian’s core? The core? This reminder burrowed in him like a barbed arrow every time he remembered again, further and further since the night he had learned it. Regret and anger and nausea, swimming and hot, every day, every fucking day. A stranger inside himself, but not. Another thing he was helpless to.)

When A-Jie finally dropped into unconsciousness not long after, Wen Qing announced that under no circumstances should she be allowed to exert herself for the next few days, until she could sit up on her own and breathe without wheezing. “The fluid in her lungs has worsened,” she told the two of them, voice still hoarse. “But since I have access to the supplies here, her fever should hopefully break sometime tonight. She shouldn’t be in any immediate danger but she will have to take her medicine on a strict schedule.”

“She will,” Jin Guangyao agreed immediately, thumb smoothing repeatedly over the back of A-jie’s limp hand. “Just tell me when and I’ll do it.”

When Jiang Cheng finally stood to leave, just about every muscle from the base of his skull to the tendons at his heels screamed and gods, he wanted a bath and sleep and for this to not be happening. Wen Qing collected the still sleeping boy, and Jin Guangyao rose, seeing them all out into the hall before bowing, sharp and deep. “Thank you, Wen-guniang.”

Damn. Jiang Cheng hastily followed suit and bowed. You tactless asshole. She watched them both with weary eyes, expression as closed as it had been for days, but she inclined her head to accept. “Come get me immediately if anything changes.”

Straightening, Jin Guangyao nodded, his habitual smile nowhere to be seen, drained and serious. “I will. I’m going to stay up to watch her.”

Her eyes narrowed warily. But she only nodded.

The entire trip leading her through Lotus Pier to her prepared room was silent.

Jiang Cheng knew he should say something. He wanted to say something--to thank her more personally for A-jie’s care or tell her that she would be safe here, that when he made a promise, he kept it (unlike some people.) Maybe reassure her that this wasn’t a ploy by him to corner her, that this was honestly a waking nightmare he kept wishing he would wake up from.

That this wasn’t how he had imagined marrying her. As a last resort. As a trap.

Instead, he was silent. Nothing he had to say would come out right and he would either sound like an ass or an idiot. Or both.

She was just as quiet, anyway, drifting behind him like some sort of mourning wraith, carrying the limp child. The only sounds were their footsteps, distant murmurs, and the frogs droning from their intermittent little ponds and from the lake beyond. Chill from the young evening settled into their still damp, days old clothes. The clean, living scent of the water was comforting, so at least there was that.

He wondered if it just smelled like mud to her.

When they came to the room, he saw that the lanterns and the incense burner were already lit, and a while ago, judging by how thickly the scent of jasmine and musk lay over everything. It was one of the nicest guest suites, with a wide bed, wispy purple wall hangings, and intricate lotus blossoms crawling up in carvings on the screens. It occurred to him suddenly that it might seem horribly insensitive to remind her exactly where she was and why. Tacky. He ground his teeth.

Wen Qing staggered right by him into the room without a glance, practically collapsing across the bed to lay the boy down. Angry? Disgusted? Done with him, whichever it was. But Jiang Cheng stayed by the door, fingers worrying at the thick fabric of his robe, running the edge of his nail along the weave as she tucked the blanket up to the boy’s chin. The need to say something--anything--was becoming too much to bear. “I’m sorry it isn’t very big.”

Her voice was dull and she didn’t even turn around. “It’s fine, Jiang-zongzhu.”

Fuck.

“You don’t have to...you can call me Jiang Wanyin,” he said, because he was apparently very stupid. The slow, disbelieving look she gave him over her shoulder was well deserved. “You don’t have to,” he added, because he apparently was not done being stupid. I mean, you’ve literally cut me open before, so I figured….

“...Alright.”

Jiang Cheng wanted to melt into the floor. Or possibly die. His mouth worked around his grimace of self disgust and he managed, “I’ll have the servants send in a bath.”

She sagged back on her heels beside the bed, still looking over at him. “Where is A-Ning?”

Oh. Right. “Probably….” Actually, he had no idea where Wei Wuxian had taken him. His room? The idea of that puppet leaking black resentful energy and lying on his childhood bed seemed ridiculous. “With Wei Wuxian,” he finished, lamely. “I’ll find out.”

Her gaze transferred to the floor, eyes unseeing and darkened by smudges of dirt and exhaustion. She was still quite pretty, but it was a gaunt, unkempt sort of beauty. The silence stretched, uncomfortable. He should have let a servant show her to the room. She was waiting for him to leave, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

“Thank you,” she said, suddenly, just as he turned around to simply leave, saving them both the agony. “For doing this.”

His jaw tightened and he kept his eyes locked on the light wood of the column right outside her door. Instead of anything helpful or comforting, what came out was a low, unplanned, “Why didn’t you come to me.” She had the comb. She had to. It had been gone when he came back to check and he had thought...hoped….

Skin on fabric. She was probably looking at him, and so kept his shoulders rigid, back straight.

“I didn’t know if you would help.” Her voice was quiet, not angry or accusatory. But his fists clenched as heat flooded his face, his head throbbing. ‘You're untrustworthy and selfish and immature. Why the hell would I trust you?’

He was fucking this up. Again. Useless.

Jiang Cheng refused to dig himself a deeper hole. About 10 minutes too late. Without a word, he stopped darkening her door. Instead of going to his room and ordering a bath like he should have, he looked for Wei Wuxian, blood pulsing in his ears. Stalking through the halls, he scattered several anxious servants in his wake like ripples behind him.

When he found him, he actually was in his room, though the puppet was on an extra mattress on the floor instead of on the bed like Jiang Cheng had imagined. The room reeked of resentful energy--sour, burning, metallic. Old bile and blood and worse. Wei Wuxian himself was hunched over it with a brush and seemed to be adding to the fluttering layer of talismans that already festooned the prone form. It even took a minute for him to realize Jiang Cheng was in the doorway, but when he did, he leapt to his feet, haggard face anxious. “Shijie?”

“...Sleeping.”

“What did Wen Qing say? Will she be alright?”

“No thanks to you.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders sagged and he blew out a breath. Then, he perked up, coming over to gently shake Jiang Cheng by the shoulders with a reproachful smile. “Ah, Jiang Cheng, lead with that next time, will you? You appear at my door looking like you’re about to avenge someone, what am I supposed to think?”

Smacking Wei Wuxian’s hands off his shoulders didn’t do anything to change his attitude. He just grimaced playfully and said, “Ow, careful! Now be nice, we’ll all be in trouble if you damage these hands,” while wiggling his fingers. It made the sharp rage in Jiang Cheng’s chest flare. It made him want to punch his stupid face.

“This is your fault.”

At this point, it was like they pulled out a script book for some overdone play, a rulebook outlining the steps to their fight. The brush off. Wei Wuxian looked past him, craning his head to peer out the door. “Where’s Wen Qing and A-Yuan? I wanted to tell her how Wen Ning is doing.”

The jab. “Are you even listening to me?”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes at him, shrugging his shoulders as if letting the words just slide off of him with a stretch of his arms. The dismissal. “Ah, you’re always scolding me, so what’s the point in listening to you when you’re just saying the same things you have been for days? I’ll pay attention when you say something new. You’re so predictable.”

The snap; Jiang Cheng snarled, “How’s this, then? It’s your fault that A-jie is so sick.” He jabbed Wei Wuxian in the chest with his finger, knocking him back a step, pursuing. “It’s your fault if the Jin decide to wipe us all out again.” Another jab, another step. The insouciant air slid from Wei Wuxian’s face--instead, it was tight, the beginning of regret.

“Listen--”

“This is your fault and you’re not even sorry.”

A deep breath. “Jiang Cheng--”

He needed him mad. He needed him to stop moving away. “You weren’t thinking of anyone but yourself, like you always do. You’re making me take in and marry the people who killed my parents to protect you.” He could see Wei Wuxian bristle--because he knew it wasn’t quite true, it wasn’t really fair but Jiang Cheng didn’t care.

“What are you even saying? They’ve both saved us a hundred times over! These people are innocent, they were being brutalized, I had no choice--!”

“You always have a choice!” Jiang Cheng was shouting, now. “You just choose the one that causes the biggest scene! First you embarrass me in front of all the other Clan Leaders, then you kill Jin disciples and steal their prisoners--!”

“What right did they have to treat them that way? What crime did they commit?! I’m supposed to just leave them?!”

His outrage just fed the fury burning through Jiang Cheng, roaring in his ears, and he wanted to take his brother by the throat and shake him. He wanted him to be just as hurt and terrified as he was. He wanted him to stop acting so fucking noble, like it meant anything anymore after everything they had been through. His lungs burned from the resentful energy hanging in the air. Zidian sparked once, sizzling. “You always need to be the center of attention. Well congratulations, everyone’s looking at us, now! Aren’t you such a fucking hero? Isn’t it nice to have a shield that will rise up against every stupid thing you decide to do? When will it be enough?”

Wei Wuxian’s swallowed hard, jaw tight, eyes shining. “Do you think I wanted this?” He asked quietly, and Jiang Cheng had to bark a laugh that tasted bitter.

“No. I don’t think you thought at all. You just did whatever you wanted and expected the Jiang Clan to clean up after you.”

At this, Wei Wuxian looked away at the wall, shoulders bunched up, hands in fists at his side. “I wasn't...” he said tightly. “I was going to go. To take them--”

“Where?”

“I don’t know!” He snapped. “Somewhere I could keep them safe! I thought...maybe the Burial Mounds.”

A chill flooded through Jiang Cheng and he stared. “Are you insane? That hellhole?”

Wei Wuxian was still looking at the wall, though he swallowed again. “I could...control the resentful energy. Make it safe.” He clenched his jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

The thought alone had him reeling. Wei Wuxian really had been going to do it. He really would have left, after everything. After promising to rebuild Lotus Pier with him, to support him. After Jiang Cheng had fought so hard to find him the 3 months when he had been missing. After Jiang Cheng had stood by him when the war ended and everyone had started whispering about sinister ulterior motives--did Wei Wuxian have no concept of how this looked? “And do what? Establish your own Sect? Build your own empire? Should I call you Wei-zongzhu from now on?”

Wei Wuxian recoiled, face screwed up in disbelief as he finally faced him again. “No! What? No! Jiang Cheng, don’t be an idiot. I was going...I was going to take care of it myself. I wasn’t going to ask or involve you. I didn’t--I was going to handle it.”

That rage condensed and dropped sourly into his gut like sick. That was worse. That was so much worse. ‘I didn’t know if you would help.’ He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted that cleansing fury back. “Nice fucking job.”

Wei Wuxian vented a short, mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “Shut up.”

“You don’t get to tell me to shut up.”

“I just d--” Wei Wuxian stopped himself, jaw working. When he spoke again, it was with careful containment. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“What a stupid thing to say, of course I did,” Jiang Cheng snapped back. “What other choice did I have?”

“You could have just let me go. I would have been fine. You didn’t need to…you don’t need to put yourself out on my account.”

He would have preferred he had just fucking stabbed him. Honestly. Then who the fuck was he? Some acquaintance? Some stranger? To not ‘put himself out’--

He was really that easy to leave behind? Just that unremarkable, unneeded, unwanted? That every option, even the Burial Mounds where he had been trapped was preferable to staying with him in the home he had rebuilt with blood and sweat, plank by plank for them--for them, the only family he had left in this world.

What was so broken about Jiang Cheng that no one could possibly just love him as he was? What did he have to do to stop people from leaving him?

He wanted to stab Sandu through the corpse that used to be Wen Ning’s chest, tear off the talismans and throw him in the lake for the fish to take out of sight. To seize Wei Wuxian and scream; Stop letting go of me!

“Well, aren’t you so brave. Aren’t you so noble,” gritted out, all dark and vile, and Wei Wuxian flinched and Jiang Cheng would have felt triumphant if he didn’t feel so fucking awful instead.

“I had to.”

“You had to.”

Wei Wuxian said nothing. But he didn’t look ashamed. He just looked tired.

“Right. Because you’re so strong and powerful and right, always, and I’m the asshole who doesn’t care enough.”

“You know I never said that.”

“But that’s what you think. You still think that I didn’t do enough. That I didn’t do the right thing.”

Instead of fighting back--instead of denying it--Wei Wuxian let out a loud breath, shook his head and turned away to drop himself heavily beside the mattress on the floor. This retreat left Jiang Cheng completely empty. His nails cut into his palm and he was shaking all over, staring down at Wei Wuxian as he picked up another talisman, not looking at him. They had had this conversation already, in fits and starts on the race back to Lotus Pier, but hadn’t been able to fully say any of this around A-jie or the Wen’s and so had just jabbed at each other for days. But here, it was all unraveling at once like too tight bandages coming off. He craved a conclusion--the give and take of a shouting match or the clarity of a split lip and Wei Wuxian wasn’t giving it to him.

Couldn't. If it came to blows, Jiang Cheng would just hurt him.

And why was that, again?

His brother's face was gaunt as he ignored him, eyes shadowed, fingers raw and red with blood and cinnabar. Still working. Giving. He was always giving of himself to everyone. His protection, his trust, his love, his time.

His core.

Just more proof that he was better; kinder, more generous, better in every way. Well. Not every way, now. The overworked core gave an untimely twinge. But that even bore his fingerprints, didn’t it? His sacrifice. (He had tried so hard, so fucking hard to give Wei Wuxian something that only he could give, the only protection, the only apology Jiang Cheng had left for what he had blamed him for. And he had shoved it right back like an unwanted gift.)

Jiang Cheng wasn't special, though. That knowledge bristled in his throat like knives, now. What he had done for Jiang Cheng wasn't because he loved him--apparently, it was because it was the right thing to do.

And Wei Wuxian always did the right thing. He would have done it for anyone.

Jiang Cheng's eyes went to the talismans fluttering in the dark breeze. It was the Cloud Recesses, the Yin Iron, the oh-so-perfect-and-peerless-and-interesting-Lan-Wangji all over again. Leaving Jiang Cheng behind to go be a hero because he just didn’t fucking matter enough to keep around. Because Wei Wuxian thought he was pathetic and selfish.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were burning, his voice shaking when he spat, “Great. Then just keep trying to make yourself a better shidi out of that thing. I’m sure it will never stop kissing your ass.”

On his way back to his room, he snapped at a young servant girl to order a bath for Wen Qing. She practically ran.

Nice fucking job, idiot.

Crashing face first onto his bed, he fell into unconsciousness immediately.

[squishneedsahero]

Not So Typical. Weird.

All or Nothing

Part 1 of 1

Word Count: 2930

Uhhh idk y'all I have cravings and just need to get them out. As always no smut cause we sex repulsed up in this house babes. Anyways this is a Loki x Bucky x Reader imagine. And also the reader is a werewolf.

Like I said it's a lot and idk but I needed it to be written

Weird. Weird was the only way you could describe your life. First off was the fact that you were a werewolf. Yes like a full on werewolf, a night with a full moon? You completely lost ability to control yourself, you had to chain yourself up to protect everyone in the vicinity. The rest of the time you were mostly fine, at night you could take your werewolf form by choice and control yourself, it was only nights with a full moon that left you deranged. The rest of the time you were just you, a person, with an unusually acute sense of smell and some other wolf like traits.

The nights you chained yourself were the worst. You'd fall asleep a good while before it got dark, always bored by the fact that you were stuck and didn't want anything you could tear to shreds near you. Then hours later you'd wake up, on the floor feeling worse than hungover, and have to slowly unravel the chains from around yourself, pick up anything you had broken, patch the inevitable holes in your wall and place the rug Mack over the torn up flooring.

At least, it had been this way for years, more recently you'd found a good use for all of this werewolf stuff. One night you'd gotten out of your chains and had been causing horror in the forest surrounding the small upstate town you lived in. You had caused enough problems that the Avengers were called in to keep you from murdering anyone.

Finally when you changed back to yourself and woke up they talked it out with you. It wasn't any different to them than Hulk getting out of control, but it wasn't safe for you to keep living in your ruined apartment where no one could keep an eye on you on those nights. That was how you'd found yourself forced to move into the Avengers compound.

It wasn't all bad, you had a secure room you could tear up on nights of the full moon, and plenty of attractive heroes to spend time with. For a while you lived there as more of a guest than prisoner until at some point some idiots decided to attack the compound. That's when you finally revealed you could make controlled changes other nights. You had been an amazing addition to their team and that was how you'd become an avenger a couple years prior.

Your life had only gotten better from there, it was like you had a family. You hadn't had one of those before, moving from foster home to foster home until you were 16, when you had somehow become a werewolf. You had no idea if you'd been but or if it was just in your genes and finally activated but it was what it was. You'd run for it at that point, able to survive on your own until you were 18, thanks to the fact that being part wolf allowed you to just live in the forest and not have to worry so much about what you ate.

Your life was going smoothly up until about a year ago. That was when, a few weeks apart some new members joined the team.

First there was Loki, he hadn't paid you any attention until that first night you transformed when he was around. Something about the way you couldn't control your actions in that form and the fact that you could change, it fascinated him. He had slowly begun to spend more time with you, asking questions about your abilities and so on. It was through all of this that you had grown close to him, probably the only person he was close too and would let get close to him.

The second one to come was Bucky, Steve's childhood friend. He had been rescued from Hydra and rehabilitated, you'd just been being friendly, making sure he was comfortable in the compound since you'd been in that spot a few years prior. The both of you had become fast friends, having a similar sense of humor and enjoying laughing at Steve.

The three of you would hang out together, watch movies as you caught the both of them up on earth culture that they'd have no idea about. It was behind your back during these times of all of you hanging out that Loki and Bucky would be glaring at each other, making rude comments to each other when you left the room and competing for your attention.

The two were good at hiding it from you, but not the others, especially not Thor and Steve. Thor and Loki were brothers, and Bucky and Steve might as well have been brothers. They could easily see how they would restrain themselves from lashing out at each other in your presence, forcing themselves to simple glares and stealing your attention from the other.

This competition made it awkward for anyone who was in the room with the two of them when you weren't there as well. Which had lead to the three of you spending more time alone as no one wanted to get in between the two when you weren't there.

It went on for months, and you were oblivious, until, one night with a full moon. You'd warned them that you wouldn't be able to join them that evening as you needed to lock yourself up. It was an especially rough night for you, and the two idiots hadn't been able to keep themselves away and listen to your cries from outside the cell.

They'd both burst in, wanting to comfort you, and you unable to control your actions attacked them. You'd always been starving those nights, ravenous for any game you could hunt down. Human or not it made no difference to you, it was as you lunged that they realized their mistake. They had to work together to restrain you, leading to the three of you laying on the floor of the cell together as they held you.

You had struggled all night, and as always when you changed back you instantly passed out from exhaustion. The two were also tired out from having to hold you down all night to prevent themselves from dying. It was then and there that they had silently agreed that they would work together to protect you at all costs. They didn't get up, and neither did you, that day the padded floor was your bed.

When you woke up the two of them were wrapped around you, fast asleep. You were trapped in their embrace, since you were only human when you weren't a wolf and the two of them had super strength. They had slept for a while longer, keeping you trapped there for long enough to come to the realization that they'd been competing for your attention for months.

When they did wake up and realized that they were cuddling not only you but also each other they jumped away from the embrace. Leaving you to suddenly flop to the floor since you'd been being supported by the two men. You groaned and sat up to stretch, looking at the both of them as they, embarrassedly, avoided eye contact.

"I hope the both of you know you're idiots. I'm going to have to make sure the others keep you out of here from now on, I don't want to hurt you."

Bucky mutters something about it being worth it to keep you comfortable.

"I'm Asgardian, even in your wolf form you cannot harm me," Loki protests.

Bucky laughs, "yeah, keep telling yourself that. I'm pretty sure she would have torn you to shreds had I not also been here."

You sigh and shake your head as you get up off the floor, letting yourself out to go find something to eat and leaving them where they were on the floor.

They must have figured something out that night, come so some sort of conclusion about their shared feelings for you and wanting to keep you out of harms way. The two approached you while you were eating practically everything you could find in the kitchen. They both then and there admitted their feelings, and asked you to choose, they didn't want to be fighting over you anymore.

You'd silently looked at the both of them as you finished your food, not giving a response after you'd gotten up to get your second cup of coffee. "I'm not choosing," you state simply, and when they both open their mouths you continue before they can interject. "You two are my best friends, and I've realized I have been oblivious to both of your advances. But you cannot make me choose between the two of you, I won't loose a friendship over this... plus I don't think I could choose if my life depended on it."

They were both completely confused at this point, not having a single clue where you were going with this.

"Look," you say firmly, "both of you like me. I like both of you. I'm not loosing my best friendships over something as dumb as choosing one man over another." You pause, deciding to just say what you were thinking, "if the two of you can overcome your differences the three of us could be together. All or nothing. If you cannot do this then I suggest the both of you get over it and know we will be nothing more than friends. I'm going to go shower and get changed and the two of you can come find me when you've talked it out."

With that you walked out of the kitchen and to your bedroom, leaving them to stare at your back and then each other in shock. You go and take a nice long shower that is much needed, sure, you were worried about how they'd react. If they'd both start ignoring you and you'd loose those friendships after all that, or if maybe the three of you could be something more together. Sure you had thought about it before that point but you'd been oblivious to their advances and you hadn't wanted to start a love triangle. But then, as you were lying on the floor in both of their arms you'd come to the realization, if they were willing to give it a try why couldn't you all be together.

It would keep you from having to choose, hopefully keep from jealousy and maybe the two could see they didn't need to fight over your attention. But who knows, maybe the idea disgusted them, and would just scare them away. You shake the thoughts from your mind and relax the rest of the time you're in the shower.

You exited your bathroom fully dressed, with a towel in your face as you dried your hair. It wasn't until you dropped your towel in the laundry basket and turned around that you saw both Bucky and Loki standing awkwardly in your room waiting for you.

"So?" Is all you can bring yourself to ask, the courage you had last time you'd faced them was all but gone.

They share a glance with each other then look back at you, "we're willing to give it a go, for you," Bucky says.

"Yes, we are," Loki confirms. "It was rude of us to try and make you choose, we have no right to demand that of you, and we would like to apologize."

"We aren't exactly sure how it'll work out... seeing as we haven't done anything but see each other as competition but we'll give it a shot to make you happy," Bucky concludes for the two men.

You can't stop the huge grin that breaks out across your face as they speak, running over and hugging them both tightly as soon as they finish. "Thank you- thank you for understanding-" you look at the two, who only have their arms around you, but that's fine.

You look at them, wanting to kiss the both of them, but how to go about that without jealousy with who you kiss first you had no idea so you just saved that problem for later. "I'm still exhausted from last night... I'm going to take a nap, would you like to join me?"

They both agree to it, Bucky had changed since you'd shredded his clothes the night before. Loki had used magic at some point to either protect or change his clothes so he was already good to go. The three of you climb into your bed and it's comfortable, one of them on either side of you, and you expect to fall asleep quickly.

Things don't always life up to your expectations though. The two men were obviously still tired as well and they fell asleep before you. Even in their sleep they were fighting over you as though you were a blanket they had to share.

It was kind of cute and made your heart flutter, but you'd never be able to sleep like this. You aren't quite sure how you manage it but you get them to come closer together, throwing a leg over Bucky and using his chest as a pillow while Loki acted as your big spoon. After you get into this position the two seem content, and finally stop tugging you back and forth, and you fall asleep in their arms.

This cuddly tug of war had gone on for months. But slowly the two realized that the other wasn't so bad. There was less bickering and they even seemed to enjoy the other's company at some moments. Everyone noticed and wondered how the hell you'd tamed the two.

You kept the relationship quiet, not mentioning it to anyone since it was still kind of just a trial period. You had no idea how long they'd be able to stand this situation so you were going to make the most of it. At least that was the plan until one day things just kind of flipped. Suddenly you'd enter a room and they wouldn't be sitting apart as they waited for you, but they'd be sitting next to each other, sometimes even hugging. It all became real when you'd walked in for one of your planned cuddle sessions after a night of a full moon, to find the two men not only waiting on your bed for you but they had started the kissing without you! Needless to say after you arrived all of you had some fun that day despite your exhaustion.

Yet, things were quiet about the three of you being together. Sure they had ideas of what might be happening but no one had any proof. At least they didn't until one night the three of you were watching a movie together and had fallen asleep towards the end. The next morning they'd found you three on the couch, with Loki and you sandwiching Bucky between you. Loki's tall slender form was the big spoon, with one arm clearly wrapped around Bucky's waist. Then there was you, somehow wrapped around the two men, a leg thrown over theirs arms around their shoulders and hands in their hair. Bucky had his arms tightly around you, holding you to his chest and Loki's other hand had found it's way to act as your pillow.

After this, there were no doubts, money might have been exchanged to settle bets. But also the three of you never heard the end of it.

"You three should get a room."

"Aww it's cute Bucky and Loki decided to let you be their teddy bear."

"So which one do you love more?"

That last question was the first and last time anyone tried to ask that. The death glares from you and Bucky, plus the fact you had both whispered something to Loki and he'd glared for a moment longer before a mischievous smile flashed across his face. Yeah, there was still plenty of teasing but none of them made comments like that anymore. Who knows what you and Bucky would have let Loki do if they had.

The three of you are still practically inseparable, you had always been close to each other before this started but now Bucky and Loki were close as well. Things were perfect, except for the fact that they still tried to sit with you through the full moon nights. You'd had to make absolutely sure with Tony that neither of them could get into that room. Magic, technology and everything was put into preventing it. You tried to convince them that it wouldn't be so bad to just cuddle each other on the nights you could be there. They didn't like it, and would whine when you had to leave them but the promise of plenty of cuddles after while you recovered your energy as enough to keep them from finding a way to break into the cell.

So yeah, things were weird, but a good weird. You, your two boyfriends who kissed you and each other. It wasn't normal or typical but the three of you were happy. Misfits who had hurt people in their lives and come to regret it, who'd found each other and helped each other be better. All of you had bad nights with nightmares but with two people who loved you to hold you as each of you went through it, things became bearable. Things were far from perfect but they were your not normal, not typical weird that to you was everything.

[step-on-me-khun]

Steamy smut where reader is undercover and khun knows and trys to tease answers out of her dom khun and bondage?

Welp, I suppose I could try to at least write this. 

🔞 No minors +18 only pls 🔞

SFW/NSFW

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 2411

What could you say about Khun? That was was clever, a genius even. Not much got past him. He knew how to manipulate any situation. It made your heart race at times, seeing him calmly plan out his next move. He was like a spider, trapping a fly in his web.

He kept you on your toes. Challenged you whenever something questionable escaped that mouth of yours. It wasn't hard for you to fall under his trap, become ensnared. Everything he did, no matter how little, made you fall for him fast. It was against everything you were said to do.

You had to be just as manipulative as him. One little slip-up, and you would expose the reasons you were tagging along. It was a dangerous game you were playing with him. But it made it all the more fun. Just as you thought he found out, your adrenaline rose. There was a fire in both of you. Then he would tease you, asking why you're all het up and anxious.

Of course, your relationship grew. All the secrets you kept, all the tension that came along with those secrets. Why wouldn't you want to release all the stress? Being associated with FUG and not having Khun know was torturous for both of you.

Your head was spinning, wondering what Khun thought as his steely blue eyes glared down into yours.

Your knees were up at your chest, hands tied together right under the back of your knees.

Khun was always unfair in situations like this. He liked being in control.

You were lying on your back naked, not too far from the headboard. It was unfair for you as you were in a vulnerable position, clothless, your bare core displayed fully. The worse thing was Khun, though. He was enjoying seeing you like this. He likes the way your face looked, all flustered. The slight annoyance and embarrassment made you close your eyes and bite down harshly on your lower lip.

His long slender fingers were hardly doing anything to you, but his thumb would sometimes gently and slowly rub your clit, making you jolt a little as the pleasure of it got to you.

Small whines and squeals would leave your mouth. You were unable to cover your face as your hands were still tied.

"Just tell me what I need to know, then I'll let you have what you want,"

"I told you," you start explaining, rocking yourself from side to side to try to get yourself up, "I'm not with anyone. You're delusional if you think I am,"

There was nothing that could stop him from being as torturous as he was now. His index finger and thumb found your bundle of nerves above your entrance and squeezed down hard on it. An electric-like feeling shot right through you.

You could hear Khun chuckling. It was clear that he was enjoying this.

Your eyes began to water. Khun's hand moves away from you for a moment.

"Make it easier for both of us and tell me who sent you here to spy on us. I'll even reward you if you tell me everything," Khun was so damn confident that he would eventually get what he wanted out of you.

All the desperate movements you were doing did nothing to help your situation. Just as you thought you could move onto your front, Khun quickly turned you on your back again.

Fuck, this was bad. Both dread and adrenaline burst inside you. Once Khun wanted something, it was more or less impossible to stop him from getting what he wanted.

You tried to scream, but Khun's hand instantly moved and covered your mouth.

"Bad girl," he taunts, "the more you struggle, the worse it'll be for you,"

You cry against his hand. His eyes were so dark and beautiful, just like the sky was as night. But God knows what emotions lay behind those blue eyes of his.

It wasn't unusual to see him dominant; he naturally was that. Anyone who knew him knew that he liked it when things went his way. Your relationship grew like that, too. He was handsome; you couldn't deny that. He made you feel a whole new range of emotions, even making you love him.

But he was right that you were spying on the team. You were with FUG. Telling him was one thing you didn't want to do. There were times where you anxiously thought about doing just that, but your mind switched off as you began talking to him more. You were playing a dangerous game. All you had was the hope that you could abandon FUG and continue to climb the tower with these newfound comrades of yours.

You were hesitant on talking to any FUG members. It didn't matter who they were. If they knew you and your situation, they could jeopardise everything.

Seeing Khun like this, towering above you, his hand slowly move away from your mouth. His presence was enough of a threat to most people.

He wanted to try something different with you. There was no doubt that he could be rough when he chose to be. Most of the time, he was.

--

One arm wrapped around you as you entered the room, the other around your collarbone, hand covering your eyes.

"Why don't we try something a bit different, huh?" His mouth whispers into your ear. His voice was low and husky. The situation you were in and the mouth breathing onto your ear was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You had no clue what he was thinking of doing, but you had a bit of an idea. He wanted to tie you up and use you. Just the thought of it made you bit your lip.

"Do what you want to me," you say, a little nervously.

He chuckles into your ear then lets go of you, pushing you forcefully onto the bed.

--

If you knew he was going to be like this, then you wouldn't have agreed.

His long slender finger poked inside you slowly, gradually moving in and out of you at a torturous pace. A thumb found its way to your clit again and rubbed it just as slow as his fingers entered you.

Your eyes were close to spilling, not through pain but Khun's slow and annoying movements.

"Why are you teasing me like this? It's too much," you cry, your teeth biting on your lips to suppress your moans.

"Come on now, (Y/N)," Khun teases, a smirk lining his pale face, "I know you're working with someone if you tell me who it is, I'll stop teasing you,"

"How many times do I have to say I'm not working with anyone!" You cry, nearly screaming.

But it did nothing. Khun's fingers still rubbed your walls slowly.

You remained quiet, hoping and waiting for a release to come. It would make this situation better for you if Khun let you come just once and relieve yourself of the intense pleasure he was giving you.

A knot built up in your stomach. You knew it was coming, even if it was slower than your most releases.

Your body began to shake. Khun could feel your walls contracting around his fingers. He knew what you were about to do.

"Nice try," he says, pulling his fingers out and bringing them up to his face, "but if you want to come so much, you're going to have to tell me everything,"

"You're such a fucking prick," you sob quietly.

You heard him chuckle. He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking your wetness off them. He was doing everything he could to make you feel more and more aroused.

It wouldn't take too much to have you bursting into tears over the sensation that just left your body.

"Oh, (Y/N)." He coos, his hand smacking your core harshly, causing you to jolt up and nearly scream. "You can deny it all you want. I've got patience. I could leave you like this all day. If you don't like this that much, you can always tell me why you're here. I'll even keep quiet about it and not tell anyone else in the team,"

But would he? He was toying with both your mind and your body. You wanted it over.

His hand slaps your core two more times, his finger and thumb pinched on your clit again.

"You can take all the time you want to think it over. I'm not going to stop teasing you until you cave in and tell me everything,"

There was so much going on in your mind. You could either: give in and tell Khun everything, or you could try to hold out for as much as possible and see how much more you could handle from him. But he was persistent. He could go on for the whole night if he wanted to.

It was all too much to have it go on for the entire night. You wanted it over.

He was manipulating you. It was too humiliating. But it was also something that made your arousal rise.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone," you beg.

"I will, once you've told me everything,"

"Khun, please,"

One of his hands was on the tie that wrapped around your wrists. His other hand was flat against your lower region. He gave your core another smack. He didn't want to waste any more time with you like this.

"I work with FUG," you said silently, hoping he could hear you.

"Hmm? I didn't quite get that," he teases, smacking your thigh instead.

"Fuck you," you cry, "I said I work with FUG,"

He tuts and smirks before looking you in your eyes. "I could've guessed that,"

"If you had your doubts, you could've confronted me instead of doing all this,"

"And what fun would that be?" He turns you on your side, the side of your ass in front of him. He stops smacking your core and thigh and moves his hand to strike your ass.

"Stop it," you cry quietly.

"Why did FUG want you to spy on us?"

You sighed, wanting him to untie your hands. "Can you undo your tie? I'll tell you if you let me go,"

"Nice try, but I'm not easy to negotiate with," his hands move away from you. His eyes stared at your body as you tried to squirm around.

"It's you,"

"Me?"

"Yes. You're part of the Khun family, one of the families closest to Jahad. You could be a threat in the future,"

He smirks and chuckles at you again. "Would you say I'm a threat now?"

"Yes,"

"That's brave of you. But do you mean that in terms of Jahad, or are you referring to the situation you're in?"

His hands untie your wrists, letting them and your legs fall slowly on the bed.

"I'm on about what you just did to me. I still love you and don't ever want to leave you,"

His body towers over yours again. You were still on your side.

"I promise not to tell anyone, as long as you don't keep any more secrets from me, that is," he says as he lines himself up with you and thrusts inside you roughly.

You let out a hiss as he sets up his pace. The ordeal he had you in before left you a little sensitive. His hands were on you, one at your thigh, the other at the back of your neck.

All the frustration he felt from you keeping everything to yourself, he released on you right now.

You felt a sting as his fingers and nails dug into the skin of your leg and neck.

His teeth bit down on his lip. He was so focused on making you feel all of his annoyance and frustration.

"Oh, fuck," you cry, snapping him out of his thought cycle.

His hips snapped into you roughly. The slapping of your skin and the moans that escaped your mouth sounded so heavenly to him.

Both his hands move to your waist, holding you steady as he picked up pace and speed again.

All you managed to do was moans out incoherently. Khun's name would slip out a few times.

"If you promise me that you're not going to keep any more secrets, I'll let you come," he says quietly in between a few hisses and groans.

"Oh my god, dammit. I promise. I won't keep anything from you," you cry, feeling your release rising as Khun continued to thrust inside you.

He leans down, his chest touching your side. His hands move beside your body.

"That's my good girl, that's all I wanted to hear," he whispers into your ear. He turned his hands cold as he moved inside you, finger traced down your spine slowly. You felt a Khun bite down on the shell of your ear.

It was all too much. Khun was doing everything he could so that you would come quickly.

You curl your toes as your wall closed in on him.

A string of groans escapes his mouth, filling your ears as you came on him. His hips continued to snap into you.

His teeth let go of your ear. He gave the skin around your face and neck a few kisses before he too came.

You were both panting messes. Khun's hot breath hit your skin, causing goosebumps.

His body collapses next to yours, arms wrapping around you.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" You ask curiously. "I told you I still loved you,"

He tuts and rolls his eyes, not that you were able to notice.

"Paranoid, are we?" He asks playfully.

You turned to him and glared at his face.

"Would it be bad if I was?"

"Of course it wouldn't," he pulls you closer to you, "if I didn't love you, then I would've left the room by now,"

It was a relief. There was some worry inside that Khun would maybe abandon you and spill everything to everyone. But he clung to you. It was as if his relationship with you was something that wasn't going to risk. You felt as if every worry disappeared from your mind. He was sure that you weren't going to betray him. And you felt the same way about him, that he wouldn't betray you either.

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@unexceptional-h @rizonacigaravenue @aoi-turtle

[softestavengers]

I Just Feel You (Wanda x Vision)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff, Vision Warnings: None Disclaimer: I do not own rights to Marvel or it’s characters.

Description: Vision can’t seem to get his mind off of the Mind Stone. Wanda figures out a way to get him to loosen up a little bit.

A soft, luminous glow quietly peeks through a pair of thin curtains, illuminating a quaint little bedroom where a young couple lay inside atop a large king-sized bed. The two stay curled up together, the woman drinking from a steaming mug and the blond man, a carbon-based synthezoid underneath the human form, flipping through the pages of a book, much too quickly for any human to read.

Wanda, the red-haired woman, leans her head against her lover Vision’s shoulder. Vision peeks down at her for a moment, a smile gracing his lips that failed to meet his eyes.

“Vis.” Wanda sighed, reaching her hand up to rest on Vision’s cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Vision knew better than to lie. Even if he tried, Wanda could read him. She would know either way. He hesitated slightly before speaking. “The stone.” he stated, his hand reaching up to touch it. “It keeps trying to get my attention. To speak to me, perhaps. I just wish I understood what it was saying.”

Wanda ran her tongue against her upper lip, unsure of how to respond. Vision had been worrying over the Mind Stone in his forehead for a few days now, and his insistence on knowing what it was about was beginning to concern her. What if something really was wrong? What if something was happening to her beloved boyfriend?

No. That couldn’t be possible. It wouldn’t be. Wanda shooed the negative thoughts from her mind, and slowly lifted her hand to Vision’s forehead. Wisps of scarlet magic transferred from her fingers and into the stone.

Vision squinted slightly at the feeling of Wanda’s energy flowing through him. He slowly opened his eyes to gaze into hers. “Do you feel anything? What do you see?” he inquired in a rushed manner.

Wanda shook her head. “I just feel you.” she murmured, placing her hand on his cheek. “You and only you.”

Vision sighed, taking her hand in his. “Perhaps I am overthinking this a bit too much.”

Wanda slowly ran her fingers down to his shoulder. “You always have been analytical, Vis. Perhaps you get that from the one who made you.” she smiled softly.

“Mr. Stark wasn’t the only one who made me. Technically it was Ultron who-”

Wanda cut Vision off with a soft kiss to his lips. She didn’t want to hear that name. Not now.

“What you need, Vision, is to relax.” she grunted, flopping back against the pillows. “Get your mind off of things.” she grabbed the back collar of Vision’s shirt, pulling him backwards down onto the pillow. Vision let out a slight yelp, making Wanda laugh. She’d never heard such a sound from the android before.

“Do it again!” she exclaimed, turning to face him. “That was precious.”

Vision tilted his head. “What was? The sound of surprise I just made?” he furrowed his eyebrows when Wanda nodded. “Humans are so strange. They find amusement in the smallest things.”

Wanda shook her head. There he goes again. She brought her hand up to Vision’s cheek, slowly gliding downwards. “Maybe you should try it sometime.” she hummed.

Vision ignored her statement and closed his eyes, melting into the feeling of Wanda’s touch. He lived for these moments, laying side by side with his lover in the calming silence of their bedroom. It felt nice to share a home, away from it all. Away from the responsibilities of keeping up with the world’s dangers. Away from being an Avenger.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, odd sensation starting from his neck to his shoulder, where Wanda had continued to glide her fingers down. Vision flinched back, his eyes shooting open. Wanda recoiled as if she had touched a hot pan.

“Vis? Are you okay?” Wanda grabbed his face. “Is it the stone again?” her eyes were laced with worry.

Vision shook his head. “No darling, not this time. But the strangest thing happened, I felt the most peculiar feeling when you were touching my shoulder.” he gestured to his shoulder before touching it with his own fingers, trying to check for any abnormalities.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “What kind of feeling? Was it painful?” she reached forward, pressing into the space between his neck and shoulder, red magic surrounding her hand as she tried to examine the area.

Vision flinched back again, grabbing Wanda’s wrist. “It happened again. It’s still happening!” he rubbed at his shoulder, trying to rid himself of the feeling as Wanda’s magic began to wear off. He was surprised to look up to a grin on Wanda’s face.

“I think I know what’s ailing you, Vis.” she stated matter-of-factly, tilting her head to the side as she gazed at him with adoration.

“What is it?” Vision inquired with worry. He shifted slightly, sitting up as he waited for her response.

“You might be a bit ticklish.” she replied, unable to hold back a giggle. “It’s nothing to worry about, really.”

Vision raised an eyebrow. “Ticklish? That’s not possible.” he scoffed. “I highly doubt I was created with such human-like weaknesses.”

Wanda bit back a smile. “I beg to differ. And I have all the evidence I need, right here.”

Her eyes began to glow a brilliant red, and Vision was shocked to feel himself weighed down against the bed, unable to get up.

“Wanda, dear, what are you doing?” he gasped, straining as he tried to sit up. His eyes widened when Wanda settled himself above him, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

“Helping you chill out a little.” she replied, her fingers quickly beginning to dart over Vision’s sides. Her boyfriend squirmed beneath her, letting out a yelp as he tried to process the sensations. Wanda decided to play it gentle for now, realizing it would be cruel of her to subject Vision to a tormenting round of merciless tickles when it was something he was brand new to.

So, she kept her touch light as she scribbled and scratched at his torso. Her smile brightened when finally, after a few moments, giggles began to flow from his lips.

“Wanda! Whahat is this?” Vision managed to wheeze out. He fought with all his might against the magic that held him down, but much to his dismay, Wanda’s powers nearly exceeded his own.

“Don’t ask questions! Just have fun!” Wanda tsked, bringing her assailing fingers up to the spot at his neck. Vision scrunched up his shoulders, losing his words in immediate laughter.

Wanda giggled along with him, her heart soaring with joy at her newfound discovery. She slowed her tickling down slightly, just for a moment, to try and focus on Vision’s thoughts. She could read his confusion, but also his joy. She decided to keep going.

“Who would’ve thought? Big, strong avenger being reduced to a pile of giggles and I barely have to touch him.” Wanda smirked as she began fluttering her fingers over Vision’s neck again, sending him back into a fit of giggles. Vision felt his face grow warm, and a pink tint rose to his cheeks. His legs began to kick out in a futile attempt to break through the magic he was trapped by. This continued for a few minutes, Wanda exploring and attacking every sensitive area she could find.

“Okay! Okahay!” Vision eventually sputtered out, bringing his hands up to shield himself. “You win, mercy, uncle, whatever it is!” he technically didn’t need to breathe, but his sides were beginning to cramp from all the laughter.

Wanda immediately let up, lifting her magic from him as well. Vision flopped back against the bed, feeling like all of his energy had just been drained from him.

“Y’know, for such a sweet woman, you’re sure evil.” he grumbled, rubbing his forehead. “Why would anyone want to subject themselves, or anybody else, to such a torment?”

“You had fun.” Wanda grinned. “I could tell.”

“Lying to yourself.” Vision shook his head. “Keep telling yourself that.” he suddenly shot his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Wanda jumped in surprise, her eyes beginning to glow as she anticipated retaliation.

Vision raised an eyebrow. “What? You think I’m one who finds pleasure in revenge?” he asked, resting his chin against her shoulder and looking up at her sweetly.

Wanda blushed, avoiding his gaze. “I just thought, with how fast you were going-”

“Because that would be correct.” Vision cut her off with his fingers digging into her sides.

Desperate giggles immediately spilled from Wanda’s lips, filling their small bedroom. Vision couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face.

These were the moments he wanted to remember most. No amount of avenging, fighting, or saving could ever top the precious time he had with his Wanda. She was his hope, his joy, his everything. Right now, they weren’t Avengers. They weren’t the strong, famous figures that the civilians counted on. They were simply Wanda and Vision, laughing and play fighting like any other ordinary couple would do.

And that was more than enough.