#Base Plate Carry Bag

[daycourtofficial]

In a world of boys, he’s a ✨gentleman✨

Summary: based on this request - your friends help walk you through all the nice things Azriel does for you

Author’s note: I forgot all about this tbh lmao why was this just sitting in my drafts all alone

“I think Azriel has the best manners,” Feyre says, her cheeks glowing from the wine, wisps of brown hair coming out from her braid.

“And the biggest wingspan,” Mor adds, raising her blonde eyebrows.

“I’m serious,” Feyre turns to Mor, “he’s so polite, he cleans up after himself, he treats (y/n) like a queen, he-“

You choke on your wine. “Treats who like what?”

Mor slaps your shoulder, causing you to almost spill your glass. “Oh, do not start this again, I will scream.”

“Start what?”

Mor rolls her eyes, falling back on the couch, “pretending like you don’t know how nice Azriel is to you.”

Your face heats involuntarily. “He’s very nice to me, I’m well aware of that. He’s a nice guy.”

Mor groans, getting up for more wine, “see! This is what I’m talking about!”

Nesta and Feyre giggle, but you sit up, “what do you mean what you’re talking about? What is wrong with me thinking that he’s nice to me?”

Feyre’s giggles continue, “it’s not that, sweetie. It’s just… he’s exceptionally nice to you.”

“So? We’re friends.”

Mor chimes in, “if any male was as nice to Nesta as Azriel is to you, Cassian would slit his throat.”

“Cassian’s more of a hands-on brute, but I see your point,” Nesta corrects.

“Friends don’t act like the two of you do,” Feyre muses, refilling her wine glass.

Soft touches, sitting needlessly close to each other at gatherings, Feyre catching the two of you napping on her couch on multiple occasions.

“He always blushes around you,” Elain observes.

Images of Azriel’s reddened cheeks and ears flood your memory, and how adorable you’d find it.

“He always asks you if it’s okay for him to pick you up to fly.”

A montage of soft “may I?” and “is this okay?” flutter through your mind. His soft touches of your hair when you’d take off, knowing it was your least favorite part, trying to comfort you in some way.

“He pulls out your chair for you at every family dinner.”

“-and plates her food!”

Azriel’s scarred hands grab the back of your chair, a soft scraping noise filling your ears, replaced by your soft “thank you”.

He sits next to you, grabbing your plate reflexively, piling it with roast, carrots, and potatoes, knowing to avoid the celery.

You thank him again, oblivious to Cassian’s exasperated arm movements at the two of you, as well as Nesta’s immediate swatting of him.

Elain giggles, “he always comes by every Sunday asking me to help him arrange a bouquet for her.”

Nesta smirks as the other two females let out soft “ooooh”s, as if you all were gossipy teenagers. Maybe you were. Your eyes draw towards the bouquet sitting on the table in front of Elain, the pink and yellow hues making you smile.

“He always has a hand on you whenever you’re out in town.”

The warmth from his hand is a welcome presence on your lower back as you two push through the crowds of the Velaris stalls. You prefer going out into town with him in tow - he was much taller than you and could see over the crowds.

Not to mention how he carried all of your bags and you spent the rest of the day catching his scent on your clothes afterwards.

“I’m not even sure you own your own coat from him lending you his.”

Nights out at Rita’s always ended with the two of you walking along the Sidra, his arm around your shoulder. He’d always wait for you to start shivering before placing his coat around your shoulders, helping your arms into the sleeves.

You scratch at your neck, uncomfortable with all the attention on you. “That doesn’t mean anything… right?”

Mor huffs, dramatically falling back on the couch after draining her glass, “I can’t explain this again.”

“Ask him out,” Feyre says, while Nesta nods her head, “just do it.”

As if the Mother herself were in the room gossiping with you all, Azriel strolls into the room, a bit shocked when five pairs of eyes peer back at him, amusement in four pairs, adoration in one pair.

You can’t help the smile that graces your face when you see him, and Nesta loudly placing her cup on the table jolts you out of your trance.

“Will you- would you,” you clear your throat, rushing the words out before you get too scared, turned in your seat to peer at him, “would you like to have dinner? Tonight? With me? Alone?”

Mor and Feyre are trying, but failing, to hold in their giggles at your nervousness, but you have completely forgotten they were in the room with you.

Azriel’s lips curve into a smile, “I would love to. I can pick you up at 7?”

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Be mine

Alpha! Natasha Romanoff x Omega!FemReader

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: Natasha may have lost some hoodies, but she gained a mate and in her eyes, that's a trade she'd be willing to make any day. Based on the above prompt, but with some twists ;)

Warning: NSFW, 18+, A/B/O universe, mutual pining, lesbian? relationship, heavy petting (clothed sex), oral sex (R receiving), penetrative sex, a tiny bit of breeding kink, mating, claiming, knotting. You'll have to forgive me if this isn't your typical A/B/O fic, but I haven't read many of those and I don't know much about the universe itself, so this may not be super accurate, but I did my best. I hope you guys will enjoy it none the less.

As soon as she entered the room, you could smell her. It was always the way with Alphas, their strong, musky scent was unmistakable, but with hers came a sense of relief. Natasha made you feel safe, made you feel protected, without being overbearing. You could always feel when she was looking at you and you knew she kept track in her head. She knew if and when you ate, knew if you drank water, and when she didn’t deem it enough, she would silently bring you some. She never forced you to drink it, never even said a word, she would just leave it in front of you and walk away. She also knew damn well that you drank it. She also knew that sometimes you were stubborn, but most times you were just anxious and she stayed with you during long nights, watching a movie, knowing that her presence calmed you, and when you finally fell asleep, she carried you back to your room and put you in your bed, so you’d rest, the way you should. Yes, Nat was a kind and caring Alpha and the way her smell filled your nostrils made you drop your shoulders, before you greeted her. “Good morning, Nat.” You smiled, turning around, holding a plate with your breakfast, only to see the woman in nothing but sweatpants and a sports bra. Not even shoes! Her bare feet slapped on the floor as she stepped confidently into the room and you immediately looked away, feeling shy. “Morning.” She grumbled distractedly, her eyes scanning the room for something. “Do you want some breakfast?” You offered, still avoiding her gaze and the absolute mouth-watering sight that was her torso. God, you loved those strong arms, with their well-defined muscles. Not to mention those abs. You wanted to straddle her and rub your pussy over those gorgeous abs and when you’re done, you’d lick them clean! But you tried to push that thought away, not wanting to spend the rest of your day with wet panties and smelling of desperation. “No…” Natasha answered absent-mindedly, barely even looking at you, when her head suddenly snapped at you. “Hey, you haven’t seen any of my hoodies, have you?” She asked with a curious expression.

Ah, yes, her hoodies. You knew damn well where they were. And, truthfully, you intended to give them back. When you first took one or two, you meant to give them back to her. But then things got out of hand. You would usually go on missions with her, you worked well together, and an unclaimed Omega, who knew how to handle herself, not to mention, who could resist an Alpha’s influence, the way you did, was a very useful thing to a spy. But then they told you, that you needed to go on a mission with a new Alpha. The Scarlet Witch, or Wanda to you, now that you knew her a little better, was not yet experienced enough and having a seasoned, well trained and collected Omega with her certainly helped your mission greatly. But it made your anxiety sky-rocket. So just before your mission, you took one of Nat’s hoodies. She had left it on the couch in the common room and it smelled like her so much, that you didn’t even think twice. You packed it in a separate, sealed bag and took it with you, placing it on your pillow each night, thinking that you’ll wash it and give it back to her upon your return. But things didn’t exactly go that way. Apparently, your mission with Wanda went better than expected and you were asked to train more with the other Alphas, to go to more missions and each time you thought of having to leave the compound, your anxiety and distress would spike. And that’s how you found yourself with most, if not all of Natasha’s hoodies in your nest. You’d take a new one each time you had to leave for a mission, promising yourself to give them back and then you’d get so attached, that you just couldn’t. “Your hoodies?” Presently, you pretended not to know what she talked about. “No, I… I have no idea.” You lied shamelessly and you walked away, completely forgetting your own breakfast, which is why you were there in the first place. Natasha only shrugged, scratching the back of her neck as her eyes continued to search the room, even though she knew that her hoodies weren’t here. Now if only she could figure out what happened to them… During the next few days, you could see Natasha asking various people about her lost hoodies and her eyes scanning training rooms and lounge arias and your anxiety had reached a new level. It wasn’t just that you knew that she’ll eventually find out about what you did, or having to make a fool of yourself by explaining that you wanted her desperately… You also didn’t want to give them up. You felt so attached to them now. So as a means to placate the woman and maybe get her off your trail, you went ahead and bought her new ones.

It wasn’t hard to guess what she’d like, considering that you had so many of hers and you made your way back with a happy smile on your face. Yes, you were sure this would work. The stunned expression on Natasha’s face, when you handed her the shopping bag and explained the content, was absolutely priceless. You watched with joy as she rummaged through the bag and took them out one by one, inspecting them and smiling. “These are great! They’re better than my old ones! Thank you!” She exclaimed, giving you a brief hug, before she returned to her new hoodies. “You’re very welcome, Nat.” You smiled, before trying to walk away, only to be stopped in your tracks by Wanda. “Hey, Y/N, that was a very nice thing you did. Why don’t you sit down, detka, I’ll make you something to eat. I bet you skipped lunch, since you were out shopping.” The disapproving look Natasha gave the witch did not go unnoticed by the Sokovian, but she only smiled, making her way to the fridge and picking out products for a quick meal. She suspected that you liked the spy, and she had a feeling that the infamous Black Widow had similar feelings and she also suspected that neither of you had the courage to say so. Natasha was a strong Alpha, in the field, she was mesmerising to watch, but in her personal life, she never believed to be worthy of a good, little Omega to make her own. And you? God, you had it bad for her, but an Omega needed to be claimed, so of course, you wouldn’t say a thing. But Wanda had the perfect plan to nudge you both in the right direction. Let’s see how much can Natasha sit back and watch her favourite Omega being flirted with. “What do you say I make you some pasta, hm?” Wanda turned to you with a gentle smile. “With that special sauce you like so much?” She suggested. “You don’t have to do that, Wanda… I can…” You were about to say that you can make your own meal, but you were quickly interrupted. “But I want to, pretty girl. You’re always so nice and sweet and you take care of us so much. Let someone take care of you for a change.” She said with a grin, loving the way Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Come, sit down and pick a nice movie for us to watch, while I make you something to eat.” She continued, practically guiding you to the couch and seating you, handing you the remote, so you’d pick a movie, while she cooked, all while Natasha glared.

She couldn’t explain why she felt so irritated, you weren’t hers. But you had went out shopping for her, you had bought hoodies for her, it was meant to be her that now complimented you and pampered you, not Wanda. It almost felt like the witch took her moment and it pissed her off. Grumbling, unable to watch this much longer, Natasha took the shopping bags with her, carefully unpacking everything and putting a few hoodies into the washing machine, so they’d be clean for tomorrow. She had already picked which one she’ll wear, appreciating a shorter, white hoodie with an image of a black spider above her left breast. It was gorgeous. You had wonderful taste in clothes. But with the memory of the nice gesture you made, she also remembered that you were currently spending your time with Wanda, the young Alpha complimenting you repeatedly and the image of that brought a fresh wave of irritation. It didn’t sit right with her, the way she flirted with you. So, with a brisk step, Natasha came back to the common room, only to find Wanda seated right next to you, her arm extended around your shoulders and pulling you close, while she was telling you how beautiful you looked. “I thought you guys were watching a movie.” Natasha snarled from the doorway, her hands balled into fists. “We will. We’re just waiting for the food to get ready.” Wanda informed with a sly smile, pulling you even closer to her, almost into her lap it seemed. “There’s plenty of room to talk on the couch.” Natasha pointed out, her eyes fixed on Wanda’s proximity and especially her arm around you. “I thought I’d get to know Y/N a little better. After all, she’ll be coming on another mission with me the day after tomorrow.” She announced, causing both you and Natasha to stare at her. You didn’t know anything about a new mission, especially so soon after your last one. “No one told me that.” You said, a little stunned. “They debriefed me this morning while you were out. Steve has all the files for you when you’re ready.” Wanda explained calmly. “It’s nothing special. Just 10 days in Brazil. We’ll be going after a cartel that recently seems to have gotten enhanced weapons and technology. Their leader is famous for having an eye for unclaimed Omegas. He’ll be arriving a few days earlier, so we’ll follow his movements and find out who the seller is.” “Sounds easy enough.” You nodded, trying not to show your distress.

You always got a little antsy when you had to flirt your way into an Alpha’s operation like that. They were suspicious, territorial and often vicious. Some killed Omegas, when they thought they were being spied on. Some did even worse things. You always feared what your fate would be, should your team fail you one day. Not that something like this had ever happened. Despite putting on a brave face, Wanda could sense the way you tensed up, the tightening of your muscles in her hold. You were scared, she could tell and a part of her felt terrible for bringing up so many unpleasant feelings. “Don’t worry, malush, I’ll protect you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” She assured, her words honest. “I know, Wanda, thank you.” You nodded, relaxing a little in her hold and allowing her gentle fingers to run through your hair. “You better make good on that promise, Maximoff.” Natasha growled from her spot, watching the scene unfold with mind clouded by a deep sense of irritation. She was jealous. Undeniably so and she couldn’t stand to see you being soothed by another. It was meant to be her, who protected you, made you feel safe, made you feel cherished and loved. You were meant to be hers. If only she had actually made a move. But how could she? Why would someone like you ever want her? With the bitter taste of regret still on her tongue, Natasha turned on her heals and left the room, not even letting Wanda respond to her words. She’ll give the younger Alpha a stern talk about you later… If she was going to stand by and watch someone else court you, she was going to make sure that they knew the consequences, should they ever hurt you or your feelings. Feeling angry, Natasha entered her room and fell on the bed with a thud. Her head turned to the shopping bag, still full of clothes that you had went out to get just for her and her heart warmed at the sight. She really should thank you. Getting up, she ran to the nearest store, buying a box of your favorite chocolates and a beautiful card, writing a few words of gratitude inside, before she returned to the compound.

Natasha looked at her hands for a moment, thinking if she should interrupt your movie with Wanda, but decided against it in the end, so she went to your room, deciding to just leave the small package for you to find. She didn’t think much of the action, having been in your room many times before, so she just walked right in. She loved being here, surrounded by you and she closed her eyes briefly, savouring it, but her steps faltered almost immediately, when her eyes opened and landed on your bed and the pile of her hoodies on it. She could smell your sweet scent in the room, all around her, but especially the bed and as she got closer, she could distinctly smell the way you’d practically rolled around in her things. She could barely sense her own scent on them now. Some of these she’d missed for months. “So that’s where they went.” She heard herself saying. As soon as the recognition came, so did something else. A question. Why had you taken them?  Why did you want her scent on you? Could you… No! That simply couldn’t be… You wouldn’t be in love with her? Perhaps you simply got attached? Omegas were such sensitive souls sometimes. And the two of you had spent so much time together. But deep down she knew she was just denying the obvious. Just like she was denying her own feelings. Unsure of what to do and how to approach such a subject, she stood frozen in place, her thoughts racing wildly. She was lost in her own world of worry and regret, desire and longing, that she didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps, until you were in the room, gasping at the sight of her. “Natasha!” You exclaimed, your eyes filling with fear and panic, as you realized she’d seen your stash of stolen hoodies. “I can explain!” You started to say, but were interrupted, when she dropped the box in her hands and closed the distance between you in a few short strides, capturing your face in her hands and making you face her. “Tell me it’s true.” She said, pleading, too impatient to even explain what she wanted to hear, her eyes soft and full of so much hope. “Please?” She almost whined. “It’s true.” You nodded, some of the initial shock dissipating. “It’s always been true. How can you not know that?” You smiled, looking up at her with hopeful eyes. That soft smile and that sparkle in your eyes as you looked at her was all the confirmation Natasha ever needed and she leaned down eagerly, claiming your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all her passion and love into it, hoping that she could convey just how much she had been dreaming of this moment with you. God, your lips against her felt divine. She could hardly contain the throaty little growl that left her as she deepened the kiss, her arms wrapping around you in an almost possessive manner, while she pressed herself firmly against you, letting you feel the bulge in her pants, that only seemed to grow and harden the longer she touched you.

“I love you.” She whispered, lifting you off the ground and crashing your bodies against the nearest wall. It seemed to take her no effort at all to hold you up with one hand, the other cupping one of your breasts, while she pressed and rubbed her clothed sex against you. “Fuck, you feel so good!” She gasped, her hips slamming into yours, her bulge teasing your pussy and making you grow even wetter and more desperate for her. “So good, baby.” She whispered, detaching her lips from yours, so she could start trailing kisses down your neck. You shivered and trembled in her hold, back arching, so you could feel more of her. You wanted to rip the clothes from her body, feel her skin against yours, feel trapped underneath her as she pounded into you, the way you’d been dreaming of all this time. “Natasha!” You moaned her name and it drove her even more desperate with desire for you. She pulled on your shirt, hearing it rip and starting to fall apart, until she had your breasts in front of her face. Those delicious nipples were just begging to be sucked between her lips, she was sure of it, and she didn’t hesitate to do just that. “Natasha, baby!” You almost screamed this time, feeling the pressure in your stomach grow with every thrust of her hips. “Take me to bed, please!” You begged, nails digging into her shoulders as she bit your nipple. She used her tongue to soothe it and she stole one last quick peck from you, before she moved, carrying you just as effortlessly to the bed and dropping you on the big pile of her hoodies, her own body following right after and trapping you eagerly. “Don’t worry, baby, from now on, you’ll always have my scent on you.” She smirked, positioning herself between your spread legs and rutting against you with the same fervour as before. “Fuck, Natasha!” You let out a little whine. She was getting you so close. You could feel the pleasure rising, even through the layers and you were approaching an embarrassing orgasm much faster than you ever thought possible. “Fuck, baby, you gotta stop, you’re gonna make me…” You tried to warn, but she was having none of it. “Me too, Y/N. Come with me, baby.” She gasped, pulling you as close as she could, her body sweating from the heat and the intensity of the moment.

She couldn’t hold it back. Fuck, she didn’t want to. She just needed a release. She was going to claim you properly after this, give you the pleasure you deserve, but she needed this first. “Oh God!” You practically screamed, holding on to her for dear life, while her movements grew more erratic. She was practically humping you, but it felt so good that you didn’t even care. You just wanted her any way she would let you have her. “Fuck!” She grunted, a short and forceful thrust signalling the beginning of her climax, while she kissed you deeply and it was all you needed to fall off the edge right along with her. Your bodies trembled in unison and you held onto her as you whined, feeling the throbbing of your clit as you came. You felt the way her cock spasmed as well. It twitched in her pants as she released, a sigh of relief falling off her lips as she did. Eventually you both slumped against each-other, the pleasure and the intensity of the moment making you feel drunk and you weakly cuddled up to her, closing your eyes and inhaling her deeply. Natasha felt you fall asleep against her almost immediately and she didn’t have the heart to wake you. Instead, she waited for you to fully relax, before taking a quick shower, discarding her ruined boxers and putting on just her sweat pants and taking her previous spot next to you on the bed, loving the feeling of you in her arms. Her mind was plagued by doubt and insecurity and as she watched you sleep, she wanted to savour every second, too scared that you’ll wake up and realize that you’ve made a huge mistake, that she might have ruined her chance to stay in your life, now that she’d done this. Eventually, exhaustion took over her as well and she allowed herself this moment of bliss, hoping it will never end, only to be woken by soft breathy whines and little whimpers, combined with your sex rubbing itself on any part of her you could reach in the limited space of her hold. Your scent was impossible to ignore in this state and she could smell the beginnings of your heat and the desperate way your body tried to relieve some of the unbearable pressure it felt. You were still asleep, and so beautiful, features dominated by pleasure in your peaceful sleep and she admired your beauty for a long moment, before she decided to wake you. “Wake up, pretty girl.” Natasha whispered, stroking your cheek. “Open those eyes for me.” She encouraged, watching the way you scrunched up your nose, as if the mere thought was offensive. “If you’re gonna use me like that, you have to at least look at me.” She added after a moment.

You blinked your eyes open in confusion, your face brightened up by the sight of her still in your bed, before you realized what you were just doing, momentarily stiffening. You opened your mouth to say something, but you were immediately shushed by a finger on your lips. “Don’t you dare apologize.” Natasha smirked. “I just need to know if you still want this.” She told you, some of her insecurity showing. She knew you were vulnerable right now, the uncomfortable feeling of your heat only growing with each passing second. It would be so easy for her to take you right now. But she didn’t want it that way. She wanted you to be sure. “Natasha… I have loved you for so long, wanted you more than you can know, I’ve spent countless days thinking of you, countless heat cycles moaning your name and wishing you would make it better. Alpha… Please make it better this time?” You practically whined, eyes filling with unshed tears as you felt your insides churning with need. You were sure you would die if she didn’t fuck you right this second. Natasha didn’t say a word this time, pulling down your pants and panties in one smooth motion, gasping at the gorgeous pussy that presented itself to her hungry gaze. You were so wet already, your sweet smell filling her nostrils once more as she ran a finger through your wet folds. “Alpha, don’t tease!” You whined again, your hips canting up for her. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.” She said, taking no time in finding her place between your legs and dipping her tongue in your wetness. “So delicious, baby.” She moaned at your taste, immediately needing so much more of it. She took her time cleaning you up first, savouring your taste with every flick of her tongue, before she finally wrapped her lips around your clit, drawing slow circles over it and driving you crazy with the way she made you feel. She ate you like a woman starved, sometimes sucking on your sensitive clit with fervour and drawing deep moans of pleasure each time. She could hardly keep your hips in place, not that she cared much to try, loving the way you rode her face with clear abandon and she wasn’t surprised when you reached your climax with a strangled cry and a chant of her name. “Fuck, so good!” She murmured, after helping you ride out your orgasm. She was just about ready to start all over again, her own pleasure entirely forgotten, even if she was humping the mattress, but your hand in her hair stopped her. “Yes, that was good… But I need you inside me now, Alpha.” You pleaded, your legs spreading even wider for her. “Only your cock can make it better, please.” You practically begged and it triggered something in the older woman.

She pulled down her sweats in one swift motion, showing you her cock for the first time. God, she was big! You could see the veins that ran along her length and the precum that dripped from her tip. She was perfect. And the look in her eyes was ravenous, so she didn’t hesitate for a second, easily flipping you over and putting you on your hands and knees, letting you present yourself like a proper little Omega for her. She rubbed her length at your opening, getting her cock slick with your juices while you squirmed, but her teasing couldn’t last. She had dreamt of having you this way just as much as you had and she needed to finally claim you. Needed to finally be inside you. “Please.” You begged once more, your hips chasing her and the brief feeling of pleasure and relief that she provided every time she rubbed herself on you. “Like that, baby?” She asked, pushing herself against your opening, her tip sliding inside easily. God you were so warm, so wet, so tight around her and it took everything in her to keep her pace steady. She wanted you to feel good, wanted you to enjoy every second of being with her, she wanted to be so good that you’d never even dream of any other Alpha ever touching you. Not that she’d allow it. Now that she had you this way, she was realizing what she was missing all this time and she wasn’t going to ever let you go. “Just like that, Natasha, please!” You gasped, pushing yourself against her and taking the rest of her cock inside you, all at once. “Fuck!” She grunted, her cock spasming at the feeling of being fully buried inside you. “Is that what you want little Omega?” She asked, she teeth gritted. “You want me to ruin that pretty pussy?” “Yes! God, Alpha!” You screamed, her pace picking up quickly. You could feel your ass bouncing off of her with every thrust, her cock hitting deep inside you each time, her hands squeezing your hips in a grip so tight, you were sure she’s leaving imprints and it was heavenly. She was so good. Better than you ever imagined she would be.

“Come here!” She growled, burying her hands in your hair and pulling you up against her. She held you close, her nose buried in your neck and breathing you in deeply. “You wanna be my little Omega? Want me to claim you, baby girl? Make you mine for good?” She asks, biting your neck gently, just scratching your skin, right on that sensitive spot that drove you wild. “I’ll take good care of you baby. I’ll protect you and keep you safe, I’ll make you happy.” She promised, words soft. She could feel her knot forming at the base of her cock, her release approaching quickly and she barely held it back. You could hardly respond, all your thoughts fading into nothingness at the feeling of her cock deep inside you. You just knew she’s right where she belongs, right where you need her most and you never want it to end. “Feels so good! Yes! Want to be yours! I’ve always been yours.” You pant, soft whimpers cutting off your words, as you felt your orgasm approaching. “I’m so close, baby!” Natasha panted behind you. “You gonna come with me?” She asked softly, pulling your head further back by your hair, to make sure that your neck is fully exposed to her. “Yes, so close! Please! I want you to come inside me, please!” Watching you beg her like that was truly the last straw, and with a final, sharp thrust, Natasha felt her knot slip into place, triggering her orgasm. Endless spurts of white flooded your pussy as she felt the best orgasm of her life. This was the best moment she just knew it, her teeth sinking into your neck to mark you for good, while her legs shook and her cock throbbed inside you, making her see stars. Her knot slipping in triggered your orgasm as well and you cried out, a deep sense of satisfaction washing over you when you felt the spurts of her cum fill you up to the brim. Not even a drop slipped past her as she still rutted against you, prolonging both your pleasure. But it was her teeth sinking in that really had you experience extasy, a second orgasm crashing over you, right after the first and you milked her of everything she had as you felt yourself being claimed. When it was all over, Natasha laid you down gently and settled on top of you, your bodies still perfectly connected, chests heaving. As you turned a little, trying to look up, Natasha did her best to accommodate you and after look down at you, eyes hooded from lust, she silently turned her neck, silently offering it for you to leave your own mark on her and seal your connection for good. You licked at her neck a few times, feeling her shiver in anticipation and you sunk your teeth into her, just as she had done, hearing her soft whimpers of pleasure at the action and you tried to soothe the wound as best you could, offering her little licks and kisses that she happily accepted, even if each one made her cock throb once more. “I don’t want you going on any more missions.” She finally said, her voice thoughtful. “Especially if I can’t be there to keep you safe. You’re my mate. My love. I don’t want you in danger. I don’t want other Alphas looking at you, thinking they can have what’s mine. Don’t go tomorrow, love?” She confessed, almost pleading with you to understand. “I’ll talk to Steve.” You nodded, placing a small kiss on her lips. “And I’ll talk to Wanda.” Natasha grumbled, remembering the other Alpha and the way she had her hands around you. Her words made you laugh and the older woman looked down at you confused. “What? You think I didn’t see her hands around you, touching your hair, talking to you like that. She can’t have you!” Natasha insisted, more firmly now. “Oh, baby…” You smiled, shaking your head in disbelief. “You really don’t know?” “Know what?” She squinted down at you. “She never wanted me. I know for a fact she has her eyes on a certain robot… But I sure am grateful she gave you a push.” You laughed and this time Natasha laughed with you. “Good luck mating him.” She joked, finally relaxing, allowing her eyes to close in content. She finally had her mate. _____________________________________________________

Dear anon, on the 12th of June you sent me this request... I don't know if you still use Tumblr, I don't know if you still follow my blog, or read my fics, hell, I don't even know if you remember sending me this, it was so long ago... But should you ever see your request and read this fic, I hope you'll enjoy it!

[landosjpg]

new year’s day | ln

the one where you and your boyfriend clean up after hosting a new year’s day party

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: just fluff

note: based on this request. not proofread & not really sure how i feel about this one so pls share your thoughts with me :)

you turned the music down and tied your hair up in a messy bun with a loud sigh. you were exhausted from the party, and the last thing you wanted to do in that moment was to clean the whole mess.

“y/n!” the giggles of your girl friends walking in the living room again made you get up from where you were sitting on the couch, trying to rest for the first time that night.

“our cab is already outside” your other friend added, announcing their departure.

you walked them to the door, noticing how they were carrying their heels in their hands while yours were still torturing your poor feet. you hugged them goodbye and watched as they walked to the car waiting for them on the other side of the road, stumbling and tripping a little. you could already see the sun starting to rise, but they were clearly a little tipsy still.

much to your disliking, you hadn’t had much to drink that night, too worried about your precious new house to not keep an eye on everything that your guests were doing.

it sounded quite controlling, yes. but the less you had to clean after everyone left, the better. lando had tried, unsuccessfully, to get you to stop worrying; but the thought of someone accidentally dropping their drink on your beloved couch was enough to make you stay alert.

that was part of your charm, lando always said.

you dragged yourself back to the living room, where the remains of the party made you regret having offered to host it in the first place. there was a thin layer of glitter all over the floor, and you knew it would take weeks to get rid of all of it.

with another sigh, you then walked to the kitchen where you kept the broom, just wanting to clean a little before getting to bed; the vacuum could wait for a few hours. as you walked in, you saw your boyfriend’s back to you.

he didn’t hear you, too busy cleaning the plates and glasses to do so. the corners of your lips perked up at the sight of him, the white shirt he was wearing sparking something inside you.

you slowly walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek pressed to his back.

“hi,” you mumbled. you heard him turning the tap off and slowly turning around to wrap his arms around you too.

“hello, pretty girl,” he said, his fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “everything alright?”

he could feel that you were tired, so when you just nodded as an answer he pulled you closer and gave you a little kiss on the forehead before resting his chin on the top of your head.

“i’m almost done here. can you bring the bottles from the living?” he asked after a couple of seconds in silence, and when you whined to complain, he softly rubbed your back.

he chuckled, pulling back a little to look down at you.

“i know, baby,” he mumbled, squeezing you in his arms. “we’ll go to bed as soon as we’re done, yeah?”

his voice was soft; knowing that the only thing you wanted was to call it a day. he gave you a gentle smile, so with a dramatic sigh, you nodded and got on your tiptoes to peck his lips before slowly going back to pick up the bottles spread all around the house.

as you collected all the trash around the different rooms and threw it in a bag that you would take care of later, you made a mental note for yourself to never host a party like this again. lando’s giggles coming from the dining room interrupted your train of thought, making your lips paint a little smile.

if you had to choose a favorite sound, it would definitely be your boyfriend’s laugh.

“what is it?” you asked, walking to where the sound came from. he turned to look at you, a silly smile on his face as he showed you some polaroids that your friends had taken of you when the clock hit midnight.

it was nothing special, but it captured the essence of your relationship perfectly. the two of you just smiling into your new year’s kiss, then both of you breaking into a fit of laughter about some stupid (and probably even unfunny) joke lando had made.

his arms found their way around your body again, your back now pressed to his chest as you two looked at the pictures in silence, your smiles speaking for themselves.

“you know i love you, right?” he whispered, kissing the back of your ear.

you hummed. you didn’t need to tell him you loved him back, he already knew. for a few seconds, you closed your eyes and just enjoyed the feeling of his arms around you as you slightly swung together to the rhythm of the slow song still coming from the speakers.

“let’s go to bed,” he suggested a few minutes later, knowing that your feet were still probably in pain and that, if you could, you would fall asleep in that very moment.

gently, he made you spin around so he could lift you up and carry you to your shared bedroom. he lied you down carefully and helped you remove your clothes, making sure that you were comfortable after sliding one of his shirts down your body and tucking you in.

you didn’t question it when he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you alone with just the dim nightstand light on, but when he came back with a few cotton pads and make-up remover, you were already fast asleep.

trying his best to not wake you up and knowing how much you hated going to sleep with your make-up on, he gently removed it with slow strokes. his lips pressed a kiss to your cheek as he finally got in bed himself, snuggling closer to you and keeping you warm under his embrace.

moments like those being the ones he would hold on to forever.

[emmafrostdefender]

a fine line between god and animal | logan howlett x fem reader

chapter 1 - biting the apple | masterlist | read the prologue first

two new mutants arrive at the mansion.

i am churning this thing out and i have a very specific direction that i'm going to take it. the story does not really follow the canon plot because that would be boringgg. trust me, i know where this bus is heading. i hope you stay along for the ride! figuratively and literally! wink wink

warnings: cursing, religion, religious trauma, fighting, canon typical violence, 5.5k words

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“Before you all leave, I want to give you food for thought. One of the heaviest themes of Frankenstein revolves around the idea of nature versus nurture. Is the creature inherently evil, or was his treatment by society what turned him into a monster?” You pose the question to your students as class comes to a close.

The similarities to your own existence is not lost on you. You hope the metaphor clicks in their minds as it did yours when you first read the classic novel. Charles made it assigned reading when he taught comparative literature at the school. When you were old enough, you took the job. And you were inspired by some of his lessons, of course.

“We will be discussing this theme next week, so those of you that haven’t done your reading…” You don’t finish your sentence, but make a face that communicates all they need to know.

Your students leave the classroom and you slump against your desk. Despite your outside calm, inside your thoughts are racing. 

Scott and Ororo aren’t back yet and you feel as if you could break something. Or a million somethings. 

The reasonable part of you knows that if something bad happened, Charles would know and tell you immediately. But the unreasonable part of you wants to drain your energy source to find them. To sneak your mind around the globe until you pick up on their footsteps crunching the ground or their signature heartbeats sending pulses into the air.

Before you can stop yourself, your feet are carrying you to the door that leads to the underground base of the X-Men. You’re going stir crazy.

Earlier in the day, before classes started, you assisted Jean in refining her powers. She wasn’t able to move a car with her mind, but she managed to start the engine without a key in the ignition. To you, that seemed more impressive. To the professor, it was exactly what he didn’t want. He wanted her to control her powers.

That word again. Control.

His reactions to Jean’s issues made you all the more wary to reveal your own struggles. With the recent revelation of Magneto’s scheme to abduct you, hesitancy bubbled up in your chest at adding anything more to Charles’ metaphorical plate. You would just be a burden.

Exiting the elevator, you enter the completely metal hallway, something of a labyrinth to newcomers. Your shoes echo against the metal and you look from left to right. No one else graces your path as you walk to the training room. There is another one upstairs that the students use when training with Scott, but you personally prefer this one. Far away from onlookers.

Your abilities don’t necessarily lend themselves to you having any physical prowess, but you managed to get trained up quite well in your years at the mansion. “The metaphysical is very much so connected to the physical. The health of your powers could very well depend on the health of your body,” Charles told you long ago. 

With nothing to do but wait, you change into the clothes from your locker and wrap your knuckles with tape. The large room is empty and you approach a punching bag. You begin. 

The rhythm you find is steady and fast. Hit after hit, blow after blow. The bag swings on its chain, bouncing back and forth between your hands. You punch and punch and punch, feeling anger build in your system. In your mind's eye, you see the bloody heart that was stolen from your chest. You see the chains holding you down. You see your mother’s face, staring at you in disgust. You see vines. Thousands of vines, each reaching to wrap themselves around your body, your arms, your legs, your neck. They rip the cross from your necklace, leaving a stinging brand there. You see your father’s lifeless form. 

And you feel your skull starting to split open when a voice says your name.

You nearly scream at the intrusion and your head flies around. “Holy shit, Jean! I could’ve killed you!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she says with hesitancy. She’s looking at you like you’re a wounded animal about to lash out. Her eyes flit to the punching bag over your shoulder.

You look at it and gape at your handiwork. The bag ripped at the seams and sand spilled from the tears onto the ground. 

“Imagining Scott’s head?” She jokes, but it sounds strained. You hardly hear it.

You still stare at the punching bag, not quite sure what to make of this. You losing control was as infrequent as pigs flying, so…never.

A soft hand touches your shoulder. “Are you okay?” Jean asks so caringly.

You rip your gaze from the bag and look at her. You change your expression from one of near tears to one of slight amusement. “Must’ve gotten a little too enthusiastic.”

She analyzes you quickly, so quick you might’ve missed it if you didn’t know her so well. “I wanted to let you know that the jet is on its way back. They were able to locate the mutants.” You feel something in your chest relax. “Not in record time, though.”

You smirk. “Of course not. They didn’t have me.”

“Can you come help me prep the bay for when they get here?”

You nod. “Just let me change and I’ll meet you there.”

She turns to walk away and you watch her leave. Your gaze drops to your hands, where the tape did nothing to prevent the bruises forming around your knuckles. Looking at the clock hanging above the entrance, you realize two hours have passed. It’s nearly ten o’clock. 

As you enter the locker room, you swear you can still feel burning skin where your cross lays. 

You enter the loading dock of the jet in your regular attire and are greeted by Jean and the professor. They seem to be in deep discussion when you arrive, but snap their heads up the second they sense you coming. You can tell they were talking about you. 

You plaster a smile on your face and say sarcastically, “Looks like they managed to find them without me, after all.”

“They would’ve been here an hour after they left if you were with them, I’m sure,” Jean says with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Obviously.”

You shift your attention to Charles, who has begun using a computer to track the jet’s movements. Jean starts working the switchboard. You ask, “How many mutants did they pick up?”

His gaze does not move from the computer. “Two. A young girl and an older man. They were on separate paths until they met and started traveling together.” 

Your eyebrows furrow. “What made you think to bring them here?”

Charles has always been slightly particular when choosing the people to bring to his school. And even more hesitant to bring fully grown adults. At your question, his eyes shift to yours. “Why did I bring you to this school?”

You blink.

“To offer you protection. To offer you safety from a world that hurt you repeatedly. And to help you understand your abilities and use them for good. Not just to teach you Latin and calculus,” he adds with a smile. 

You nod, but still have a lingering question. “But why--”

He cuts you off, “Why am I bringing an adult man to our mansion as well?” He pauses. “Because he is extremely powerful. That kind of power can either be used toward the greater good, or harnessed for evil.”

By Erik.

“I see,” you say, hand mindlessly playing with your necklace.

Charles returns to the computer and says to you and Jean, “Get ready, they are nearly here.”

You are usually a part of the retrieval missions, making you less used to assisting with arrivals. However, you bring out two stretchers from the medical room and place them neatly by the door after getting a call from the jet. “They were in a rough fight with one of the members of the Brotherhood and the man is out cold. We think he has regenerative abilities so he isn’t badly injured, but the girl was with him when they got into a car accident. She’ll need attention. She’s jarred, but not unresponsive,” Ororo says.

Another of your jobs on the team is designated medic. You have innate knowledge of the human body and medical herbs because of your powers. It was never something you questioned when you were younger. If you scratched your arm or busted your lip open, you would skip into the woods and find something natural to heal yourself. Still, you begged Charles not to assign you to teaching biology. You despised the subject.

The ceiling of the hangar opens to reveal a velvety night sky. You feel the jet before you see it, the push it has on the trees around the mansion tingle your fingertips. The trees' movements stir your power source in your stomach, a warm, buttery feeling. The sleek aircraft lowers gently into the bay, your hair being pushed over your shoulders by the air movement. You feel relief at the sight of your friends returning from the mission; they exit the jet and you smile. Your grin droops at the sight of their expressions.

“We need you to look over these two, stat,” Scott says with urgency. 

You hurriedly bring the stretchers to the jet’s ramp and enter the main compartment with Scott and Ororo. Inside, they point you to a young girl, maybe sixteen years old, with brown hair and a soft face sitting in one of the seats. The two of them work to remove the man who sits slouched over in one of the front seats. The way they grunt, you’d think he weighs a ton.

The girl’s hands are wrapped tightly around the straps keeping her to the chair. When you approach, she jumps and stares at you with terrified eyes. “Hi, honey,” you say calmly. You introduce yourself. “I’m going to be taking care of you, okay? I just need you to undo these straps.”

She shakes her head tightly. “I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” You ask. 

She thinks between the two options and asks, “Am I safe?”

Your heart breaks. Upset coils in your stomach at the thought of all the people who have hurt this little girl. “Yes. You’re safe here.”

She seems to think this over and makes her decision. Her hands shakily unlatch themselves from the straps and move to unbuckle herself. You reach to help her, but she flinches. “Don’t touch me, please,” she says with desperation.

Your hands retract immediately.

“I just, it’s my…” she struggles with the words. “I hurt people when they touch me.”

You nod in understanding. That must have been a terrifying revelation for her. “That’s okay. We’ll get you all sorted out here. You are okay.”

She seems to relax a bit. You look over your shoulder and see your two friends lugging the man down the ramp and rolling him onto the stretcher. If this were any other scenario, you would laugh at Scott for struggling so much. 

You turn back to the girl and say, “And what’s your name?”

“Marie-- I mean, Rogue.” The way she says it makes you think she is still trying out the name for size.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Rogue.” You look her over and ask, “Are you able to walk or do you need help?”

She has undone the straps and sits a bit more forward in her chair. “I think I can stand.”

Rogue puts weight on her leg as she moves to stand up, but winces at the feeling and immediately sits back down. 

“Can I touch your clothes or is that also a problem?”

“You can. It’s just my skin.”

You sling her arm over your shoulder, careful not to touch any exposed skin, and help her out of the chair. “Just put your weight on me, hon’.”

She does as you say and leans against you completely. When you have exited the jet, you help her sit on the stretcher. The others have left, presumably to attend to the man. Charles is the only one left and he moves his wheelchair over to greet the young girl. “What is this place?” she asks after his introduction.

“It’s a place for people like you. And me. And her.” He points to you and you feel yourself smile. “It’s somewhere safe.”

Your gloved hand moves carefully over Rogue’s legs, feeling for any fractured bones or torn skin invisible to the eye.

She’s been relatively quiet for the duration of her examination, but she asks, “So, what can you do?”

You look up at her and grin. “I can do a lot of things.” You stand and walk to the shelves of potted plants on the wall to your right. You hold up one of the more pathetic looking plants and say, “See how this one is all wilted?”

Rogue nods. 

You pull your glove off with your teeth. “Watch this.”

Once your hand rests delicately against the plant’s stem, its wilting flowers perk up. A lush green color returns to its body, becoming perfectly healthy again. You look over at her and her mouth is gaping at the sight. “But why do you keep all the plants here if they’ll die without you?”

You put the plant back in its place and slip your glove back on. As you make your way back to the examination table, you say, “That’s exactly why. The professor used it as a tool to help me understand my importance here. To help me distinguish between the big parts of my powers and the smaller, more delicate parts.” You shrug as you grab some medical tape meant to alleviate and correct sprains. “I also like having company when I’m down here.”

“Company?” she asks when you kneel before her again to start wrapping her ankle.

“They talk to me,” you say, slightly mischievously.

Her mouth gapes again. “So, that’s your mutation? Talking to plants?”

“It’s a lot deeper than that. The Earth and I are like two sides of the same coin. Through our connection, I can track people if they are grounded. I can grow and heal things, but also kill them. I can create beauty, but also take it away. And I’m recently starting to realize I’m much more connected to humans than I thought.”

She considers this as you finish wrapping her ankle. 

You laugh a little. “Most of those are Professor X’s words, not mine.”

Charles arrives after a few minutes of comfortable silence, asking Rogue to come with him. You give her a small smile and tell her, “Make sure to drink those herbs with water once every day. It’ll help the pain.”

She gives you a tentative smile back. 

Before she leaves, you squeeze her gloved hand. “You’re gonna do great.”

Once the two of them are gone, you decide it's time to check on Jean and the man. She took him to the laboratory where digital scans of mutants’ brains and bodies could be completed. You walk down the hall and enter the door to the left, seeing Jean in her white lab coat. She is analyzing what looks to be brain waves on the monitor in front of her. “Oh, good,” she says when she turns to see you. “I wanted you to take a look at him. See if there’s anything I’m missing.”

You approach the table where he lays and take your first real look at him.

He is shirtless to allow the nodes and wires access to his chest. You scan over his body, seeing no obvious outer injuries. His face is calm in his induced state of comatose, but etched with what seems like a permanent line between his eyebrows. You have the urge to smooth it with your thumb.

“His name is Logan Howlett. He has extremely impressive regenerative abilities.”

Your eyes continue to study the ridges of his face. “Is that his mutation?” The thought of Charles saying he is a very powerful mutant crosses your mind. 

“That’s part of it. Once he wakes up, we'll give him a chance to tell us more. And then we’ll do a full body scan; Charles thinks there’s something else to him. He’s not wrong. Logan’s brain activity is far different from anyone I’ve ever seen,” she says in slight awe.

You continue to gaze at him. There is something else to him. Something you can’t quite place.

“Could you check his vitals for me? I didn’t notice anything strange, but I want to be sure,” Jean asks.

Hesitancy fills your body. For some reason, you don’t want to touch him. Some sort of dread pits in your stomach. Something will happen. 

Despite your body’s strange resistance, you nod curtly. You approach the table and lean over him. His scent fills your nose. It’s woodsy and smokey, all mixed with something metal that twinges your nostrils. You close your eyes and inhale, pressing your hand to his chest. In a second, you’ve been pulled to him, a vice grip around your wrist. Jean yells and starts pulling at your shoulders. Your body goes alive and you twist your arm around and headbutt him, causing him to loosen his grip on you. However, the moment your skull collides with his, you nearly pass out from the impact. It feels like he’s made of metal. 

“Oh, my God,” you groan, collapsing to the floor. Your head is throbbing.

Before you or Jean can react, he’s jumped off the table. It looks like he’s grabbed six knives and placed them between his fingers. “Where the hell am I?” he shouts.

Jean holds up her hands, but you’re still recovering on the floor, holding your forehead in your hands. Jesus, fuck. You hope He will excuse your language.

“You’re at Xavier’s School for Mutants in New York. We aren’t going to hurt you,” Jean says calmly. “Well, not anymore.” Her eyes flick down to you and you make a face.

“It wasn’t my fault he fucking attacked me,” you say with narrowed eyes. You glance at him, annoyance replacing the pain that had swept across your forehead. “What’s with the claws?” you ask, now realizing that what you thought were knives were actually thin metal spikes protruding from between his knuckles.

He stares at you, chest heaving. Then back at Jean. Fury clouds his eyesight, but you know there’s fear in there, too. 

“Look, we’re not going to hurt you. You’re safe here,” Jean says again. “I just need you to calm down and we can talk.”

The throbbing has eased and you make your way to stand. 

Something like a sarcastic grin falls on his lips. “Oh, sure, we can talk.” 

You position yourself, readying for a fight. “Get Scott,” you say to Jean quietly. 

“You sure?” she whispers back.

“Yeah, I’ve got this.”

She looks between the two of you for a moment, then runs out of the room. You hear her shoes echo in the hallway. 

“You really want to do this, bub?” he asks in a voice so quiet, you nearly miss it.

You watch him carefully. You know that you’ll never beat him, but you can keep him occupied until reinforcements arrive. “Do you really want to do this?” you respond with a grin.

Something lights in his eyes, something thrilling that makes your heart pound. He pounces, jumping over the table, his claws aiming for your throat. You dodge the attack, rolling to the side. You are back on your feet in an instant, crouching low to the ground. “Got anything else in you, big boy?” you tease, grin spreading wider at his fuming expression.

He yells, running at you with a speed you wouldn’t think him capable of. He shoves you to the ground with retracted claws and you grunt at the impact, but kick his legs out from under him, causing him to fall to the floor as you crawl away. He yanks your leg, making you stumble once more. You kick with all your might, but he won’t let go. Thinking you might be the stupidest person alive, you let him drag you so you’re pinned beneath him. “Sexy,” you say with a wink.

You can feel his steady heartbeat this close. "You're annoying," he hisses. You see his eyes drop to the cross around your neck and take that as your opportunity to kick him in the groin. He grunts and his hold around you weakens. You shove him off of you and stand to make a move for the door. You don’t think he’ll kill you, but you don’t want to take that chance.

Before you reach the door, an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you harshly against a solid body. You hadn’t noticed before, but he’s tall. Very tall. “Where do you think you’re going?” he whispers in your ear.

It sends a thrill down your spine.

“Are you always this friendly?” you whisper back, hand coming up to touch his arm. Your fingers hardly wrap around his forearm.

In the blink of an eye, he has detached himself from you, falling to the floor. Your fingers tingle from the use of your power, slowing his heart rate enough that he would go unconscious, but not enough to kill him. With his regenerative abilities, though, you assume he’ll be back on his feet in about five minutes. You hardly ever use that ability, finding it invasive. With this man, however, you think your actions are justified.

You nudge his leg with your foot when Jean and Scott come running in. “Holy shit, you took him out yourself?” Scott asks incredulously. 

“I just slowed his heart rate so that he wouldn’t break all the bones in my body. I appreciate your faith in me, though, Scott,” you say, wiping your brow.

He approaches the man on the floor, coming to stand beside you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. He nearly broke my skull, though.”

Scott raises a brow. 

“How are we going to get him adjusted if he won’t speak to us without starting a fight?” Jean asks as she starts to fix the state of the room.

“I think our best bet is to leave him alone,” you say.

Scott looks at you. His visor blocks his eyes, but you can tell they are looking at you as if you are crazy. “Leave him alone? He’ll wreak havoc trying to find a way out.”

You shrug. “I think there’s someone who might be able to convince him to stay.”

“Better than getting a face full of claws,” Jean says, glancing at his limp body.

Exhaustion washes over you when you take the elevator back upstairs. It’s three in the morning and the events of the day are finally hitting you square in the chest.

You slump against the metal railing of the elevator, relishing in the silence. Jean and Scott stayed with Logan to put him in a state of deep sleep so that he wouldn’t go stalking around the mansion at night. You could imagine how some poor child would react to running into such a large and imposing man in the middle of the night. It would be terrifying.

You run your fingers through your hair and pinch the bridge of your nose. His smell lingers around you, crowding your space. 

What a prick.

Fighting you like that when all you wanted to do was help him? What was he going to do? Kill you?

A part of you wants to believe that he wouldn’t do that, but another part of you understands that he would’ve done anything to get out of here.

Logan.

You test the name out on your tongue. You wonder if he has another name, too. Something all of his enemies know by heart.

Deciding that that was enough thinking for the night, you shut your brain off and exit the elevator. You make your way to your bedroom and collapse on your bed, sleep hitting you like a bus.

You wake, body aching and head throbbing. Although you managed to escape the fight with no outer wounds, your body protests as you remove yourself from your bed. Thank God it’s Saturday.

Thankfully, your mind allowed you a break from the night terrors that plagued you so frequently, instead replacing them with dreams of walking through a forest. As you walked farther into the dank, the trees began to die, but you woke before anything else could happen. 

You get ready for the day and make your way downstairs. In the kitchen, you see Ororo sitting at the counter with a mug of coffee in her hands. Before you can voice your question, she says, “There’s some in the pot.”

You grin and pour the coffee into your bright pink mug along with the creamer that sits by the pot. Scott calls the shade an affront to the color pink. “So…” you start.

“He isn’t awake yet. Charles thinks he’ll be up in an hour or so.”

Relief slumps your shoulders and you take a seat across from her, moving the coffee around in your mug before you take a sip. “He is crazy strong, Ororo,” you scoff. “It felt like his skeleton was made of metal. And his claws…” You shake your head.

“Charles thinks he’ll be useful to us.”

“I know. I just hope he calms down a bit.” 

Ororo gives you a sheepish smile. “You have to admit, he is handsome, though.”

You laugh. “That’s the impression he gave you?”

She shrugs. “I might have a different one if I had to fight him.”

You contemplate her statement. You suppose he was handsome, but it didn’t startle you when you first saw him. It was the kind of beauty that creeps up and you don’t realize it until you’ve been staring at them for too long. He was rugged, yes, but there was something enticing about his looks. A boyish quality. You remember the smirk that donned his face when he challenged you to a fight.

You shake your head. “Yeah, he definitely made an interesting impression.”

The two of you leave the kitchen once some of the older students begin filing in, many making their own breakfasts instead of eating the provided meal with the other students in the dining room. “Are we training today?” you ask as the two of you walk down the main hall.

“I think Charles wants us to wait until he’s spoken with Logan. Wants us to meet him properly.”

You roll your eyes. ‘Meet him properly.’ Tackling someone to the ground isn’t a proper greeting?

“Be nice,” you hear someone say behind you. Jean falls into stride with the two of you. 

“Jean! Don’t read my thoughts,” you say, pushing her lightly.

“But you think so loudly,” she complains.

The three of you make your way outside, deciding to steer clear of the mansion until Logan has had his conversation with Charles. “I really don’t want to run into him again. It would not be conducive to a healthy future relationship,” you mutter.

“He is kind of volatile, isn’t he?” Jean asks rhetorically. “I mean, he attacked with no real provocation.”

“Waking up in a room you’ve never been in with two strangers isn’t provoking enough?” Ororo asks, taking a seat at one of the lawn tables. You join her, leaning back in your chair.

Being in nature calms your nerves, but also sets them alight. Your senses come to life again and you hear the running water of the fountain, the wind whistling through the trees, and the small animals stepping in the grass. As Jean and Ororo continue their conversation, you close your eyes and lean your head back and allow yourself to connect. It is only the second day after the full moon, which means your sensitivity to everything around you is still high. You pull at the energy from the ground, letting it throb through your body. You feel the aching in your body disappear, feel your muscles rejuvenated, feel the blood pumping through your veins.

You hear the humming of a man’s voice, scratchy and slightly off-key. It’s a voice you haven’t heard in years. He’s humming something that only graces your ears in dreams. It scratches your scalp and kisses your forehead. Dad.

You steady your breathing, trying to latch onto his voice. You’ve never experienced this in the daytime; it usually only happens when you’re asleep or in a deep meditative state. The words of your friends fade away.

In your mind’s eye, you stand from the table and follow the humming into the woods. You stumble over fallen branches, but your unusual miscoordination doesn’t prick the logical part of your brain. All you can think of is your father. His voice roaming through the trees, taking you deeper into the woods. And suddenly, you are somewhere else.

The church. 

His voice is gone.

“No,” you whimper, turning into a young girl again. 

You feel the shackles of the past lock around your wrists, forcing you to your knees. A screech escapes your throat at a forcible yank of your hair backwards. You look up to see your mother staring down at you. Her eyes are pitch black. “Your father rejects you. Even in death, he will not visit your wretched soul,” she says with a sneer, pulling your hair farther back. It feels as if she is trying to rip it from your skull.

“He never rejected me,” you spit.

“Are you so sure?”

You open your eyes with a deep inhale. It wasn’t real. You remind yourself.

Jean and Ororo stare at you, waiting for your response to something. You subtly shake your head of the images conjured by your mind and ask, “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

You hope they assume your exhaustion from last night got the better of you and you simply dozed off for a moment. “Logan is ready to meet us,” Jean says, her eyes a reflection of worry. Not toward meeting Logan, to your dismay.

“Oh, great.”

Despite a desire to remain calm, your heart thunders in your chest. You worry your cross between your fingers. You have no idea what to expect from him; you fully believe he will pounce at you again. 

Ororo holds your hand as the three of you enter Charles’ study. Scott sits on the armrest of one of the chairs in the room, arms folded over his chest. Charles is behind his desk and sitting ever so casually on the edge of the desk, is Logan.

He wears a gray X-Men sweatshirt and the jeans he had on when he arrived at the mansion. His eyes fall to yours immediately, recognition filling his gaze. You break eye contact dismissively, going to sit on the other armrest of the chair Scott sits on. You keep your eyes strictly on Charles, but you feel Logan’s on you. Your heart doesn’t steady.

“Everyone, this is Logan Howlett. The Wolverine,” Charles says, gesturing to the man sitting on his desk.

Scott huffs a laugh. “Wolverine? Like the animal?”

You nudge him in the side. “As if Cyclops is any better.”

Charles clears his throat. “Please.”

“We are the X-Men, some of which you have already met.” Charles gives you a pointed look. You throw your hands up in defense. “I promise you not all of your introductions will be so…violent.”

Scott snickers. 

“Shut the hell up,” you hiss. Your eyes flick to Logan’s. He watches the interaction between you two carefully.

Charles goes around the room, introducing each of your friends to the stranger. When he gets to you, Logan’s stare bears into you heavier than it had before. It intimidates you, but doesn’t scare you. Charles tells him your name, following with, “Others know her as Proserpina, the Roman goddess of spring.”

You don’t expect him to say anything, but his voice fills your ears for the first time since last night. “The goddess of spring is who knocked me out cold last night?”

“It’s not just nature I can manipulate,” you say tersely. “Bub.”

His eyes narrow as his lips turn up in a smirk.

Charles finishes the introductions and tells the team that training will commence in thirty minutes. The second his spiel is over, you stand. Deciding to jump into the fire, you approach Logan. “Sorry about last night,” he says.

It takes you by surprise. You expected more of a fight from him.

“Uh, it’s okay,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “You gave me some much needed practice.”

You sense your friends watching your interaction from afar. Although they are conversing casually, you feel their eyes on you.

“Yeah, you seemed a little rusty, Pro.”

You narrow your eyes. “And you seemed a little overzealous, Wolverine.”

He grunts. “If that’s overzealous, then I worry for your boyfriend.” He points to Scott on the word boyfriend.

“Scott?” You laugh. “Now, that’s a good joke. You’re funny.”

A look of confusion crosses his face and you leave him like that, feeling content with how the conversation ended. Screw a healthy relationship.

━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━

i had to get this out of my brain or i was going to go crazy. i hope you enjoyed! im excited to keep writing them :)

[swampstew]

Oh Baby

Summary: Have you ever had the 'accident' talk? something short and sweet based off this post by @/MangyRacoon | no actual smut, all fluff and tenderness from someone so brash and violent. Thanks again for the original request Hebi <3

CW: Eustass Kid x F Reader, Trafalgar Law x F Reader, Roronoa Zoro x F Reader all separate accidental pregnancy scenario

Kid clocks it right away. He’s so eager when he sees you, finding you on the dock instantly, and the first thing he notices are the dark circles under your eyes and your breasts look particularly perky in your top. He makes himself known, to your surprise, pulling you into a giant hug and asks you if you’re ok.

You tell him you’re just tired from work and your social battery was pretty much drained all the time, but you are happy to see him again. His hand traces your sallow cheeks as you tell him what you’ve been up to before he decides he’s going to carry you to the nearest food stall to get you both something to eat. He holds you while you hold the bags of food, cradled against his muscular chest as he takes long, impatient strides to your home. He’s going to get to the bottom of this and he wants to do it without his crew hovering.

He tells you about his adventures while you eat, if it can be called eating since you a few bites before you looked queasy, abandoning your plate and drinking ginger ale instead. Kid pushes his plate away and brings you to your feet, bringing you to his chest as he his hands gently caress your hips.

“I’ve been gone for a while now. Has anything happened?”

“Hm? Aside from taking on more work to pass the time, not really.”

“Nothing at all? Its been three months since we saw each other.”

“What are you getting at?” you ask irately, not liking the implication of his question.

Kid turns your body so your back is resting against his torso, metal hand holding you in place while his flesh fingers spread across your lower belly. The slow strokes made goosebumps erupt along your soft skin.

“You definitely didn’t have this last time…”

“ARE YOU CALLING ME F—?!” your yell is cut off as he covered your mouth.

“Y/N! Do the math!”

When your body starts trembling, he knows you made the connection and swiftly picks you up and takes you to your bed. Waiting to see if you would start the conversation.

“We never talked about an accident like this,” you whisper.

“No, so what are we going to do?”

“We?”

“Well…yeah. Unless you don’t want me involved…”

“I-I think I want too…but…sigh…I wouldn’t expect you to stay,” you whisper.

“You’re right I wouldn’t” he snorts, “Cause I’m taking you with me, idiot. No way in hell I’m letting you do this alone.”

He’s the type of guy to (ironically) neglect his own health that he can hardly judge. So when he sees you after a few months apart, he tried to suppress his natural inclination to monitor and assess you as he took you into his arms.

In his embrace he can tell you even feel different. Like you were more tender, more sensitive to his touch as you squirmed in his hands. You pull away and he notices the top you’re wearing is the same one you wore the first time you met each other. This time though, he could see the strain on the fabric as your body peeked out from below the hem. And…hmmm did your ass get bigger?

Law tells himself not to do it, he can’t overstep. Fuck it, he does it anyway. As you lead him, Bepo, Penguin and Shachi to a bar, Law walks behind you discretely and scans you – confirming his suspicions.

The crew enters but Law escorts you to a private alley. He can’t wait a second longer to talk with you.

“So, I was gone for what…3 months?” he starts, his tone nearly clinical.

“Uh yup, you kept count?”

Law let out a light scoff, answering your question with another question, “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“Nope.”

“Have you been feeling…off at all?”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Y/N,” Law gripped your shoulder, a panicked look in his eyes.

“Been getting headaches, and uhm – hmm not been eating much either I guess. I feel like I’m just not hungry, and when I am I feel a little queasy.”

“You’re not EATING?!” both hands on your shoulders now, slightly shaking you even.

“I AM! Just with long stretches between meals.”

“Eating what?”

You looked at him long and hard and began listing off the weird combinations you’d been trying out recently. Yeah you knew some of the choices sounded out, but hey, it was the only you could really stomach…

OH.

You both stared wide eyed at each other as the truth sunk in. Oh shit.

Y’all never had the baby talk.

You were scared to voice your real feelings – Law was a pirate and he didn’t have time to be a father…right? Oh gods, he was a surgeon, would he…make you have a procedure if he didn’t want to have a child?

It was like he sensed your internal conflict, taking off his puffy hat and putting it over your head.

“You really want to do this? It won’t be easy you know. Especially in a tight ship like mine…”

Your eyes were glassy as you peered at him, “Are you…sure?”

“It’s your decision, Y/N.”

…

“If its with you, I think I can do it.”

Law couldn’t help the smile that curled over his face. Fondly remembering his own short-lived childhood, being a dutiful son, a caring older brother…

“Of course. And I’m a doctor, no child will be in better care.”

“With your power, I hope you’ll be doing a lot of the heavy lifting.”

“Tch, yeah.”

For someone who could be quite thick-headed – the marimo knew something was different in the atmosphere when the ship docked at a familiar island they frequented. He was the first to leave, ignoring the calls of his crew to make sure he remembered the way back.

He was on the hunt – eyes darting left and right, walking swiftly as if he was being guided by an internal compass. Making his way until he found the small cottage you lived in, out in the middle of the fields and not that conveniently close to the town. Between the forest, the tall grass, and canyons, it was a shock he made it to front steps of the house before the sun was even high in the sky.

Zoro didn’t even knock – just turned the knob and stepped inside.

“ZORO!”

Your arms wrapped around his body, relishing in his presence after so many months.

He gently pulled you off him, to your confusion.

“It’s been a while,” he spoke softly, direct contradiction to his actions that felt robotic.

“About 3 months.”

“Yeah. Did anything happen during my absence?”

Your brows knit in confusion, “No? Like what?”

His green eyebrows furrowed right back at you, almost accusingly.

“Really? You haven’t been feeling like somethings wrong or anything?”

“Why would something be wrong?!”

With a frustrated click of his tongue, “You…smell different.”

Staring at him with wide-eyes, he couldn’t tell if you were plain shocked, offended, or saddened by his statement.

“NOT IN A BAD WAY!” he gripped your arms a little tightly, “JUST! You SEEM DIFFERENT! I don’t know how to describe it!!”

“Different how, besides the apparent aroma I’m wafting,” you asked indignantly.

A twitch of his forehead vein, Zoro took your hand and walked to your bedroom. Facing you in front of your standing mirror, he pulled your shirt over your belly and ran his hands down to your hips.

“These are bigger. Wider. There’s something in there,” he pointed to your barely swollen bump that had gone entirely unnoticed by you.

“Oh SHIT.” Your body shuddered and nearly collapsed in on itself as you sunk to the floor.

Zoro grabbed your elbows and gently lowered you, sitting next to you as you both had the same thought flashing through your minds.

We never had the ‘accident’ talk.

Less than a minute had gone by in silence before Zoro’s hand held yours, circling his thumb over the back of your hand, almost reassuringly.

“The Sunny is pretty big. Tons of stuff for a kid to get into, and a great crew that would keep an eye out. Robin could lend a hand anytime too.”

“Are you sure, Zoro?”

“I probably wouldn't make a good father on my own, but at least we have people to help us.”

A small smile pulled up the side of your mouth and it made Zoro’s heart stutter, “I’ve always heard it takes a village to raise a child. I wouldn’t mind the Straw Hats being that village.”

“Uh… Y/N, we’re a crew.”

“Same diff, mosshead.”

[serejae]

I CARRY IT WITH ME EVERYDAY | BND

pairing : bnd x reader

genre : fluff

WHAT ! - bnd and the orange peel theory based on this anon (warnings kissing, petnames and cursing (maybe idk) this was suppose to be short but leehan had to ruin it...(JK)

wc : 1276 | @onedoornet @miidorei

SUNGHO :

-pls are you kidding me?

-him and taesan are the kings of acts of service, but i feel like he'll have a different approach

-you guys know (or have) those dads who hear one single thing about you liking something then buy like 27 of them?

-thats sungho, any fixation you have trust, he's the backbone of it providing for it

"ugh recently the stores have such good oranges" you said as you ate the peeled orange sungho had peeled for you. the second you grabbed the orange he took it from you and started peeling it despite your whines of how you could peel it yourself. either way, you appreciated the action and thanked him. "what store did you go to?" he asked while on his phone "the one near our house" you peacefully said while munching on the orange you heard him hum. the next day you woke up the kitchen filled with bags of oranges as well as a sungho standing there peeling each one. running up to him you questioned why your guy's kitchen was radiating the color orange, he shrugged grinning a bit, and continued peeling. you grabbed one to try and help to which he grabbed it out of your hand. "i don't want your pretty hands getting orangey" he smiled kissing your forehead (have yall seen that man peel a apple…?)

RIWOO :

-it comes to him naturally

-the first time he saw you with anything you had to peel, shrimp, crab, mangoes, he swore to himself you would never have to get your hands dirty again.

-he tries to make it fun for you both, as he listens to you talk he focuses on making the peel of the orange pretty

-so then he has a gift to give to you

you held the orange in your hand as you spoke moving it around. his eyes were focused on the orange as he was listening to you, so he grabbed the orange while still listening to you talk. as you continued speaking he started peeling the orange being delicate with the skin as he slowly peeled some edges. he nodded, hummed, and let out little "yeah's" as he listened to you tell the story that he's probably heard 200 times but he doesn't care. you're telling it to HIM. suddenly he hands you the peeled orange and holds up the peel which was in one piece. now this was his favorite part of peeling any orange for you, you have to guess what the peel was. "bird?" "nope" "flower?" "i already did that" "bird?" "bird" "that's a horrible bird riwoo" "HUH?"

JAEHYUN :

-ugh sighed just thinking about it (nicely)

-he's 163 steps ahead of you

-dont even bother asking for him to peel a orange cause this loser is peeling everything for you the second you ask for a orange

-he comes back with a peeled, diced, cut fruit platter, where'd he get the fruits from in such a short time? idk..

"you know what ive been craving recently baby?" you spoke up as he lay on ur shoulder scrolling on his phone. humming in response he looked up at you "some oranges for the hot summers seem so refreshing don't you-" he cut you off by leaving the room leaving you there '??? rude?'. he comes back in 7 minutes and 29 seconds with a colorful plate. full of red, orange, yellow, green, blue(?), pink, and purple fruits. he smiled as he showed you like a kid showing their parent their artwork, he noticed your silent shock and went "ta-da!" you tried to remember where you guys had this fruit lying around to realize you didn't..." thank you so much jae, where'd you get this fruit from? so quickly too?" he just smiled cheekily "i have my ways" he sat by you and fed you the fruits piece by piece with no complaints.

TAESAN :

-act of service man p2

-if he even heard a LICK of you craving, liking, or wanting something trust, you will have it 12 hours later on the clock.

-it doesn't matter how he heard it, he just did now he needs to deliver for the love of his life

-this man would fight SEAS OF PEOPLE just to get you what you want and act like it wasn't that big of a deal

as taesan made his way to your shared room to ask you a question he heard your conversation with your friend. he didn't mean to eavesdrop but he heard you say "you know what I've been craving recently?" and he had to listen. he was legally obligated to. taesan heard you talk about those juicy oranges, the ehime jelly oranges, were the oranges at where he was? no. was he going to get those oranges? yeah. don't ask, but he managed to get the oranges, did it cost him an arm and a leg to get it in 12 hours? duh, but it was worth it. he was sitting on the couch on his phone waiting for you to wake up to see the oranges sitting on the dining table, when you did you walked out to see a box on the table. "whose this for min?" you asked opening the box realizing its oranges. "you" he said smiling at your reaction when you realize. "are these...?" he nods and gets off the couch to cut the oranges and scoop the inside out to feed to you (i don't think you can peel these kinds of oranges sorry!!)

LEEHAN :

-mister listener overhere...

-once he realizes youve been craving oranges he tries to ask you questions but not too many to get you the perfect orange

-he doesnt wanna ruin the surprise but he has to make sure it fits your standard

-once he got all the information he needs, he's on a mission and will. he will be nonchalant about it when he picks the perfect orange.

"why have you been watching videos of oranges on repeat..." leehan asked behind you as you rested your head on his chest "they just look...so good." you sighed feeling your mouth water at the video of the perfect orange. "its so perfect, the color to the size, i mean can anything be more perfect?" you asked sitting up turning over to leehan, he nodded "I'm looking at something more perfect than a stupid orange right now" he smiled. you laughed at his line "thank you but these oranges aren't stupid" he nodded "how do you pick a perfect one?" he put his phone down and listened intensively. the next day he was the first one at the grocery store just in case some sucker had the same plan as him, to get the perfect orange for their perfect lover. well too bad for them because leehan was there first. anyways, leehan stood there for a while keeping your advice in his head, 'it must be soft, but not too soft that makes it bad. it has to be firm, but not too firm or else the flavor is gone. it has to be big, for the value but cant be too big because that takes all the flavor. it has to be small, but not too small that's too sweet.' your voice kept repeating in this head until- ah ha! the perfect one. now he needs to find 6 more. as he got home with his 7 (hopefully) perfect oranges he starts peeling. you woke up to see leehan walk into your room with a plate of peeled oranges. "woah.." you muttered, they were so vibrant. you tried one and hummed in satisfaction. "howd you pick one so perfect?" you asked him, and he grinned "idunno"

[addsalwayssick]

“James. I think i’m homophobic.”

There was rustling on the phone on the other side as James laughed. “What makes you say that?”

“Whenever Remus brings home guys I feel really weird about it.” Sirius cried over the phone.

James was silent for a moment as he whispered to someone. Sirius presumed it was Regulus. “Me and Regulus are going to come over. Be there in 5”

When they arrived, Regulus looked positively delighted. “Hey Siri. Heard you’re homophobic.”

Sirius tensed and looked around, not remembering if Remus was home or not. “Shhh! I don’t want Rem to know!”

James walked in after, holding a plate of cookies. He sat them down on the couch next to Sirius, and then sat on the other side. “Listen to me very carefully.” James said.

Sirius looked into his eyes and nodded. “Okay?”

“You’re in love with Remus.”

“What?”

“You’re in love with Remus. That’s why it makes you uncomfortable. You’re jealous.” James said. Sirius looked over to see Regulus nodding along, nibbling on a cookie.

“That’s not- oh. Oh yeah I can see that.” Sirius nods. “But Remus doesn’t like me back!”

“God save us all,” Regulus mumbled.

“Do you remember how you called me after talking with Remus? You said that he told you he would stop if you were uncomfortable with it? And how you continuously told him that it was fine? And how he got more mad?” James asks gently.

Sirius thinks for a minute before telling him, “Well yeah? What does that have to do with anything?”

“So you think that Remus wanted you to be jealous?”

Sirius gasps and jumps up. “You’re right! Where is he?”

Remus steps in through the door, carrying a few bags of groceries. “Where’s who?”

Sirius steps towards him as James ushers Regulus out the door, waving goodbyes and closing the door softly behind them. Remus and Sirius were left alone.

“Sirius, you know that guy Greg? I was think of inviting him over tonight,” Remus told him absentmindedly. “Would that be okay with you?” He asked, putting away groceries.

Sirius cleared his throat. “No.”

Remus snapped back to reality and furrowed his eyebrows. “No? Why?”

“I don’t like you with all these men.” Sirius said, crossing his arms.

Remus sighed. “Sirius why? You’ve never had a problem with it before. Is it because of that new girl I saw you with last week? I told you she was homophobic. I’m not changing who I like just because of her and her changing your point of view-“

Sirius grabbed his face and kissed him harshly. “That’s why,” He grumbled as he let go.

“Oh.” Remus said dumbly. “Oh okay. Um. I thought you were straight?”

“Me too. Until you I guess.”

based off that one reddit post

[former-ghost-of-the-internet]

One Night in Medellín

(Screen shot and image edits done by me)

Summary: Takes place during s2ep5, when Los Pepes first attacks the narcos on the streets of  Medellín. You lose your hearing during a standoff and are dumped at the Search Bloc base. Javi comforts you in the aftermath, finding ways to communicate through your temporary deafness. 

Javier Peña x f reader

Word count: 3526

Rating: 18+ for some dark content in the background. My blog/‘place I keep my reblogs’ is very Mature, so no minors allowed there, sorry.

Warnings: series typical violence, hurt/comfort, soft Javi, tiny bit of your blood, descriptions of panicked reader, generally able-bodied reader, might read as shorter than Javi, only one instance of female clothing for a funny awkward moment, no specific descriptions of reader, hopefully this is fairly inclusive for everyone. No y/n, no smut.

Authors note:   100% bad information on everything medical related in this story. Any cultural inaccuracies are my own fault too. Apologies to Steve Murphy for being the butt of a joke or two. First time writing in second-person. Not American so the spelling will be slightly different.

Please enjoy 😊

....

Medellín nights were always festive, despite one man’s war with the Colombian government. 

You’d had a long but good day, far far away from the UNICEF office and in a little communa church hall, where you and the other doctors and nurses had vaccinated as many children as could be rounded up. Even the abuelitas had rooted out the most stubborn kids, and either guilted them into coming down, or whacked them in the right direction with their walking sticks and shoes, if not open palms on skulls. Each time was a commotion, and to ease hurt childish feelings, you slipped enough pesos into their hands for an ice cream. For the hard-working abuelitas a coffee cart vendor happily provided free coffee, after you had thrown a pretty smile his way and warned him the little old women were worked up enough to be a threat to anyone not on their side. And he absolutely wanted to be on their side. 

With the unused vaccines stored at a major hospital, and saying goodnight to the local doctors who’d been right next to you since sunrise, you’d headed to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant one nurse raved about during one break you’d taken with her, with free coffees, thanks to a sharp glare from the abuelitas, bless their hearts. 

It was further from the city centre than where you’d been told to stay close to at night, but you hoped your very bright UNICEF shirt would offer some protection in the dark. Even your backpack had a big red cross on it. Anything to say you were a doctor, here to help, and absolutely not a threat. 

The restaurant was packed, even the few plastic tables shoved outside were full, and the small waitstaff offered paper plates to take-away, which many people had chosen, and sat on the street curbs to eat, under the yellow streetlights.

At last the line to order, which the waitstaff had banished to wait outside the actual restaurant, had shortened to only you and the two men in front of you. They both carried full gym bags. And as you noticed with a slight chill through your spine, handguns tucked into their belts. They chatted together without a care in the world, as you looked away to make sure you didn’t see their faces, even in low-light. 

You stared up the street to the top of the hill and the man who walked down it with an assured swagger, encased in khaki pants. Like he’d stepped out of the jungle. 

You frowned as he passed under a streetlight. Something about his face was familiar in a bad way. 

He had his focus on the men standing next to you, and in a blink, drew his own handgun out. 

An arm grabbed you around your shoulders, pulling you back into a chest, your backpack falling to the ground. Then the cold metal of a weapon held to your ear. 

Shouts in Spanish between the men, some sort of negotiation happened as you tried to simply breathe. This is what everyone was afraid would happen to you, from the president of Colombia, to your superiors, and your family, down to the Medellín officials and a couple of American DEA agents. They’d all wanted you to stay out of the murder capital of the world. You’d told them no one would target you. The local doctors were still here, so why shouldn’t you? 

Now you were a human shield, not because of your work, but because you were the closest person to grab. You had never considered the possibility of it before this minute. 

The man behind you moved a step back, taking you with him. Except your legs refused to work, staying where you had left them. Another step back, dragging you along, and your legs crumpled underneath you, making you slide down his body at an awkward angle. Enough for the man in khakis to shoot.

The bullet entered his chest right by your ear. All sound stopped and you were falling.  

You landed on a dead man’s chest. On instinct, you curled into yourself and away from everyone, hitting the rough and hard concrete of Medellín’s streets. 

Hands grabbed you and hauled you to your feet, half carrying you to a waiting SUV. First you, then your backpack were bundled into the darkness of the back seat. The dead men’s gym bags also ended up with you. The owner of the hands hopped into the front, and the driver took off.

A hand came back to tap your cheek, grabbing your chin and twisting your head to look up. The accidental light of street-lamps and cars flashed across your view. He smiled at you and his mouth moved as if he was talking.

You frowned and focused on his mouth. None of his words were getting through to you. You blinked hard to try to clear away the fuzziness of the world, but it changed nothing.

His mouth made these exaggerated shapes and his spare hand moved in circles, like a hamster spinning uncontrollably on a wheel. Maybe he was shouting at you.

You blinked again to be sure, and then had to shake your head. You couldn’t hear anything.

He smiled then tapped your ear and gave a thumbs down. You nodded. 

That caused an explosion of arms from him, as he whacked his driver on the shoulder. Looking back at you, he took note of the UNICEF insignia on your shirt, and you realised where you had seen him before. Carlos Castaño. A paramilitary man based in the jungle, fighting communist guerrillas. 

You had met once before. You’d had to get permission from every side, paramilitary commanders, regular military commanders, government officials, and even the guerrilla commanders, before they let you step anywhere near the Amazon. All so you could vaccinate a few children in a communist village.

The communists had been straight-forward to convince, once you talked in their lingo, focusing on healthcare for all. For the others, a bribe that came out of your pocket, another a promise not to get in the way of anything and to get out in under 24 hours. The Castaños you convinced by saying the communists were dirty, potentially disease-ridden plague carriers. If the brothers couldn’t promise you every communist in the jungle dead in three months time, then they had to let you in to vaccinate, so no epidemic could start from their continued existence. 

You hated saying it, and drunk too much later that night to get the sound of it out of your mouth, but it worked. Those kids wouldn’t die from a preventable disease. But you couldn’t save them from a bullet shot by mad, greedy men. 

Carlos smiled at you again, and pointed his driver to take the next left. 

Some minutes later, the car pulled up to the curb.  Carlos turned to you and put a finger over his lips and shushed you. Then he dragged the same finger across his neck and finally pointed it at you. 

You didn’t know what your face was doing at this point, you probably looked like a scared rabbit, all wide eyes and trembling body. Carlos broke and laughed at you, waving you out of the car. You fumbled with the car door, and stumbled onto the dark, damp street, dragging your backpack with you. They sped off into the night as you stumbled with your own weight.

Not far away, in a pool of white light, was a gate-way guarded by Search Bloc officers. Carlos had dumped you, the little lost foreigner, in front of their base. Your legs co-operated long enough to get you to the gate.

The guards stopped you with one hand up and the other resting on their rifles. You raised both hands up, and announced to everyone’s ears but your own, your name and nationality, that your passport was in your bag. The words felt like they slurred coming off your tongue, like they were heavier than usual. You wondered if you made any sense, but one man nodded at you to continue. It took you no time to dig out your passport. 

With a short inspection of your passport, and a torch flashed into your face, the guards waved you through the gate. One of them touched your ear and brought it up to your eyes to show you blood. The other held his radio up to his mouth. 

As you checked your ear for more blood, a police car came from the base, and the guards helped you in. A short ride and you were taken inside the bright building. The lights blinded you, and you tried to cover your eyes, barely seeing the medic ushering you to a bench. 

You kept blinking, like if you could turn off the world for a bit you would be alright again. You’d be able to focus, to think, to speak, to hear. The outside world was right there in front of you, and as much as you tried to reach out, you were locked behind your eyes. 

A warm hand caressed your arm and shoulder, bringing your attention to its owner. Javier Peña. He stared at you with big brown eyes, looking you over better than any doctor. His hand slid down to yours, keeping it safe under his. 

Javi listened to the medic, then his attention went to a nearby officer, and you saw his lips ask a question, his eyes straying to the dark streets beyond the base. You shook your head, grabbing his shoulder with your other hand, pulling his eyes back to yours, shouting out your warning in clumsy sounds you couldn’t quite hear. If you had your way, no one, not even the narcos, would be out on those streets tonight. Especially not him. 

Because Javi cared. No matter what anyone, or even he said. His heart cared for so many people you’d lost count, though he tried to keep it secret from the rest of the world.

And somehow, somewhere, he decided he cared about you too.

Javi nodded, as serious as ever, and cupped your cheek. Message understood. Relieved, you crumple into him, his arm wrapping around you to hold you close. His chest rumbled, maybe talking to you, or maybe to the officer. After a few breaths, he squeezed your hand and tilted your body back to look at him. He nodded towards the stairs. You nodded back and he helped you up, letting you lean against him.

He led you upstairs, past many doors, until he reached one particular darkened room, and ushered you in. You recognised some of Javi’s colourful shirts piled on a chair, and larger piles of Steve’s shoes, pants, and tops, scattered over half the room and one of the two-tier bunk beds.

Javi led you to a small desk, its small lamp draped a soft light over the room, pulled out the chair for you, and poured a glass of whiskey. He made sure you had both of your hands cradling the drink before he let you take the slight weight from him. You sipped a little at the strong drink, watching as he first gathered up his few visible clothes, shoving them in a suitcase, and then collected Steve’s mess, roughly sorting and folding, then at last dumped into a closet.

Javi went to the neater bunk bed, not Steve’s, pulling back the thin covers, inviting you to rest there. But you didn’t move. You just sat there blinking at the world.

He came back to you, dropped to a knee, and untied your shoelaces, gently taking off your shoes. Setting them aside, his eyes looked you over again, and settled on the whiskey in your hands. He pointed at it, and then glanced up at you. It took a second or two before you realised he was asking if you wanted more. You shook your head and moved the glass away from you. Javi plucked the drink out of your hands. He had a quick debate with himself, ended with a short shrug, and then downed the remains.

Putting the glass on the desk, he swallowed again, before catching your gaze with his. He lifted both hands to his chest, cupping them like the air was something heavy he could hold up, and jiggled them up and down. Then he pointed at you and made a gesture like he was swiping a cobweb away. You frowned and he repeated the sequence. This time his cupped hands looked like a bikini top. You still had no idea what he wanted to say.

With a quick lick of his lips, he reached forward and tapped a finger on your bra strap under your top.

Your face heated as you realised his question. Did you want to take your bra off? Yes, you did, and you nodded at him.

Javi joined you in nodding, but then put a finger up, telling you to wait. Another nod from you, and he was on his feet, dragging out his suitcase again, digging to the bottom of it. At last he brought out a khaki green t-shirt, and placed it on the end of the bunk for you. As you got to your feet, he shoved the suitcase away and retreated to the door, closing it behind him.

He could have stayed and turned his back, but maybe Javi thought that was too hard to mime. You change out of everything except your undies, draping it all over the back of the chair, and slipped on the t-shirt.

The door remained shut. It felt colder without him in the room. You rubbed an arm to try to stop your shivers. Was he coming back? Should you wait? Or was this everything you could expect from him? He had done plenty for you.

He’s probably not there. Why would he be? He’s got files to read still, the radio to sit by, informants to call, Steve to rescue, or maybe he’s finding another bunk to sleep on. So long as he stayed on the base it would be fine. He would be fine.

The hallway is empty. It has to be. You were on your own, you just had to be alright with that. And you would be. Eventually.

It would take time but you would be good again.

You huddled into yourself, your eyes dropping to the ground, as you tried to make your heart understand that Javi had done enough for you tonight. Then you saw the shadow under the door, like something was behind it. Your hand was on the knob before your brain could think.

Javi twisted his body to face you. He had stood guard on your door as you changed. The worried look over his features seems to be a permanent guest this evening.

Your eyes must have said please come back, as he maneuvered you inside with a gentle hand above your elbow, and followed, closing the door again. He sat you down on his bunk bed, and then further down to lie on your back.

He rubbed your arms a few times, slow and comforting, staring at you for a while. At last one hand came up to cup your cheek and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You nuzzled closer, his mustache tickling your skin. Your heart, mind, and body called out for Javi to stay. Nothing else would help you, could soothe your tremors, calm you and find yourself again, like being close to him.

Javi drew back, and your hand shot out to grab his arm, gripped tight so he couldn’t leave you.

His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb soothing over the slight hurt he’d caused.

When your breathing eased, you pointed at him and then at the bunk below you.

Javi looked over his shoulder at the door, like he was saying he would find another place to sleep, but that wasn’t what you meant.

You jostled his shoulder to get his attention once more, pointed forcefully first at him then at your bunk. Not another bed, this one. With you. This time he understood. His eyes flicked from place to place, your bunk and then Steve’s bunk, even down at his shoes as he thought of something, and then he nodded.

You were shuffling to make room for him when he stopped you. Javi pointed at you then covered his eyes with a hand. He wanted you to keep your eyes closed, so he could get comfy too. But it meant you’d be down another sense. No sight and no sound. The world would be even further from you.

His eyes begged you to trust him. You took a few deliberate breaths, and he waited for you, watching for any sign of major distress. At last, you nodded and used both hands over your eyes to show you weren’t peeking.

In your darkness and quiet, the only company you had was the bunk under you and Javi’s weight next to your thigh. You could smell his aftershave and cigarette smoke, not overpowering, but most definitely there with you, and not leaving anytime soon. Nice and comforting and him. You took deep breaths of it.

He shifted his weight forward, one way then another. Shoes, you guessed. He came back to you, and did a short wiggle. Something landed next to your arm, soft and warm. His shirt.

Javi’s weight left the bunk completely. Panic made your muscles clench, and you forced your hands down into your eyes, trying to glue them in place, and breathed as best you could.

Something rougher and stiffer and warm landed on top of his shirt. Jeans? He was still here.

You waited a long, long moment for something more to happen.

Two fingers tapped the back of your hand. A deliberate action, purposeful, a message to you. Safe to look now. You drew your hands away and saw Javi standing next to the bunk in a pair of white boxers, folding his shirt and jeans away in his suitcase. He leaned over and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. A thank-you for your bravery.

He left before you could catch him, going to the bottom end of Steve’s bunk, lifting it up and closer to your bunk. He repeated with the top end, and you got to your knees, reaching over to grab the metal frame and pulled it in snug next to yours.

Javi, the genius man that he is, had just created a queen-sized bunk bed. Room enough for your body and his broad shoulders.

You watched as Javi climbed into his side, wondering how he wanted to sleep, when he draped his arm over to you, hugging you to lay snug against his side, your head resting on his bare chest, one of your arms across his waist. He fussed with the covers for a moment or two, making sure most of your body was underneath it.

He was warm and smooth and solid. Safe. At last. You breathed in deeply, his unique scent filling your nose, and then let it go. Another in, and out again.

Your heart had settled. The world was as far away as it needed to be right now. Or perhaps the world was as small as this room, as this bunk. This man. Your arms around him, and his around you.

If your eyes closed tonight, Javi would be there, under your touch.

One more thing left to do. You shifted to look into his eyes. They were filled with concern, until you whispered your thanks to his ears alone. Even a tiny smile on his lips crinkled the corners of his eyes. You couldn’t stop yourself from planting a kiss to his cheek. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, and he nuzzled his nose against yours as soon as your lips left his skin, then moved up to your forehead, kissing it again.

Those brown eyes locked with yours for a moment, before he closed his eyelids, and then opened them quickly and nodded at you.

He wanted you to close your eyes. So you did. You felt Javi lean in closer still, and then his lips placed a kiss first on one eyelid, then the other.

Opening your eyes, you pressed your forehead to his, and moved your hand from his chest, to soothe over his jaw, his chin, then trace over his lips. You wanted to kiss him there. And from the glint in his brown eyes, he wanted it too.

But it wasn’t the right time. Both of you knew it. Besides, you wanted to hear him.

Javi’s lips twitched into a soft grin as if he heard your last thought. His mouth formed words, slow but firm. Three short words. Then he settled you back down onto his warm chest.

You felt Javi’s heartbeat against your cheek, counted its beat without numbers, let its languid pace lull you further towards sleep, until at last your eyes closed with the peace he gave you.

And in your dreams Javi’s heartbeat was your world.

....

Thank you for reading!!!!!!!!!!!!

[swifty-fox]

For the bathing prompts, #1 for clegan PLEASE 🙇🏻‍♀️

¹⁾ sitting on the edge of the bathtub and letting them lay their head against your thigh as the fatigue starts taking hold

What they're supposed to do, what their loose orders are is to stay on base. To rest and heal and have medical eyes on them to make sure their wasted bodies weren't about to give out on them.

Gale had been back months before John had, and though he'd regained muscle that John was struggling to catch up to, there was a haunted animal look in his pale eyes that just wouldn't quit. There were bags under his eyes like he hadn't had more than a few hours of sleep since his return. A fact, John knew to be true because the restless paranoia wafting off of Buck like a physical scent was keeping him up as well.

The doctor kept telling him to sleep, he kept telling them "I can't"

I can't, not when my other half lies awake.

So, really, neither of them are sleeping. Neither of them are relaxing and the nurses keep warning John about what stress and starvation did to the heart and poor Buck had gotten smaller than the rest of them. And so when Bucky marches into Chick Harding's office for two weekend passes he's back out before the ink had even finished drying.

He drives them to the nearest inn, somewhere off campus where the doors locked and they had a double-bedded room to themselves. There's a small balcony with squashed but comfortable-looking cushions and two pairs of dressers to match the two beds and through a cracked door John can make out a warmly tiled bathroom with a clawfoot tub dropped in the center like a great contented cat..

Buck, who had gone silent the moment he'd no longer had to act as God-come-home for their flyboys and the new recruits they'd become legend and fable to, sat on the bed slowly removing his cufflinks and staring at his feet. His face, while not particularly concerning in its expression, aches with exhaustion and a quiet melancholy that John felt mirrored in his own chest. They had looked into the horrors and the horrors had looked right back and now they both carried the scars of it with them.

He's fine for now, so Bucky leaves him to his undressing, smoothing a thumb across Gale's forehead as he goes and gets a faint smile in return. He takes his time unpacking their duffels, heads down to charm to the lady of the house into some cucumber and chicken sandwiches made with real saw-dust free bread and scampers back put to the room with his prize.

Gale's still on the bed, stripped down to his undershirt and briefs, sprawled on his back now with one hand over his eyes and the other on the hollow rise and fall of his stomach. Not asleep, but resting at the very least and John takes full advantage of the chance to admire the graceful curve of the other man's body. The delicate just of his wrists, and relaxed put of his flush lips. The smooth jaw that would be stubbled by midnight and the flat downy hair on his thighs and legs.

He was too skinny, wasted muscle and shoulders that were angular where they should be soft and rounded, his collarbones a series of mountains ratner than hills. But he was alive and breathing and free and for the first time in years he's all John's.

He sets the plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade he'd gotten just for the reward of being so handsome - the madam's words not his - on the nightstand and pads into the bathroom. His knees click and his body protests as he kneels in front of the giant tub, and he remembers he too is running on fumes and stubbornness and pure Pilot luck. Running the water he waits for it to heat up before plugging the drain. There's a bottle of something sweet-smelling on a stool by the faucet and he tips it into the churning water experimentally, exclaiming quietly when bubbles smelling of lemon and lavender foam up.

Leaving the tub to its filling he makes his way out to the main room and brushes a soft kiss over the knuckles covering Gale's eyes.

"C'mon doll, lets get some food in you."

Gale makes a soft noise of protest but rises, eyes drooping tiredly and happy to settle against John's side.

They're both silent as they eat, both reverent to the point of religion at the freedom to fill their bellies.

"Real bread," Gale comments.

They each eat two apiece, drink half the pitcher and John kisses the sour-sweet droplets of lemonade from the pillow of Gale's upper lip. Tugs him up gently to be led across the room and into the now steamy bathroom.

"Bucky come on we were going to sleep -" he cuts off, looking at the tub and the popping chromatic bubbles covering the surface like a cloud. His face pinches inwards, brows lowering over his sunken eyes in an aching expression.

"Jesus, John."

Slipping behind him, dragging his hands up the stepstones of Gale's ribs and dragging his shirt with it, John presses a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, "You hate going to bed unclean."

Johns hand is spread across the center of Gale's chest, a soothing slow circle of pressure he knew made Gale melt into relaxing, so he feels clearly the ragged sobbing inhale that shivers through the blonde. But when he looks Gale's face is dry, lips parted just slightly and eyes fixed on the tub.

"I don't want to fall asleep in the bath on you."

"I won't let you slip under, sweetheart."

John slides out from behind Gale, stealing his shirt as he goes and settling on the stool. He toes his shoes and socks off, rolls his army regulation slacks up past his knees so he can stick two feet in the tub and gestures.

"Come on in Major, waters fine."

Gale shakes his head, puffing out a laugh and drags his briefs down his legs.

It's equal parts admiration and grief in how Bucky stares at his lovers body. Wasted from what it once was. Beautiful to him always. He schools his expression into something more neutral when Gale looks up, lifts a hand to help him into the tub without slipping and guides him down into the water.

The delicious groan Gale lets out, lashes fluttering, shoulders and head slumping forward in relief is better than any reward.

"That's good," Gale sighs.

"Yeah?" John whispers, rubbing his hands along the hills of Gale's spine, drags his thumb along the bump of them and massaging his fingers along the nape of Gale's neck until he makes another helpless noise and grows more boneless.

"Y'wanna get in?"

John shakes his head, fingers still working at the tension around Gale's spine, "Naw, enjoying watching you have a good time. You look cute with all the bubbles."

Gale chokes out a laugh, shudders out another one of those awful sobbing breaths. This time his shoulders flinch with it, and the roll through Gale's body like a tidal wave and John makes a noise of concern.

"Hey Buck," he says softly, scritching his nails along Gale's scalp, "Hey my man, my fella."

"It feels so good," Gale repeats, words clicking and wet and young.

Gale wasn't a man who needed coddling, and he certainly wasn't prone to outbursts of emotion and John is loathe to do anything that might put a stop to the release of emotion. So he lets Gale weep, lets him cry out all the poison he'd been carrying around and rubs his back and when he's finally done, bends to press a kiss the center of Gale's spine.

"Tired," Gale mumbles softly, sniffles wetly and the water splashes as he reaches up a hand to rub at his eyes.

"Okay," John says softly, "You wanna get out?"

Gale shakes his head and John hums, plucks at the blonde strands that had fallen out of the careful coif from the humidity.

"Alright," John says, guiding Gale's head to his higher where the other man sighs, nuzzling into his hip and relaxing bonelessly, "I've got you, won't let you slip, doll."

[adrienneleclerc]

Puppy Love

Paring: Henry Cavill X Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Henry Cavill walking Kal and when Kal runs off, he meets a woman who has a dog that looks just like his…

Warning: no translated Spanish, spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: it’s based off the 1996 live action movie of 101 Dalmatians, they’re meet cute was ADORABLE

Henry was at home making breakfast when Kal walked in with his leash in his mouth, wagging his tail.

“What’s the matter, Bear, you want to go for a walk?” Henry asked, serving his breakfast on his plate. Kal barked as a reply. “I’ll eat first, then we’ll go for a walk.”

When Henry finished his breakfast, he pulled out his jacket form the closet and got everything he needed to take Kal on his walk. They left his house and the two were walking all calm until Kal spotted another Akita heading to the dog park with its owner and since halfway through the walk, Henry had Kal off leash (my dad does this with our dog though we tell him not to, Kal RAN to follow this mysterious Akita.

“Kal, come back here!” Henry started chasing after Kal, saying excuse me to everyone, trying to decline people who wanted photos with him as politely as he could.

Y/N was in the dog park with her Akita, Pucca, named after her favorite cartoon. Y/N had set up a picnic blanket since it’s such a beautiful day.

“You wanna play fetch, Pucca?” Y/N asked her dog and she barked as a response. She threw the back and when Pucca came back, Y/N was surprised that Pucca brought a friend who was also an Akita. “Well hello there, peludo.” Y/N began petting the fluffy dog and found his collar. “Hi Kal, where is your owner? Que tipo de persona deja a su perrito solito por aquí? Bueno, do you want a treat? Yeah right, I think you two deserve it.”

Y/N pulled out a bag of treats that she always carries and gave them two small treats each. “Fetch?” Y/N asked and she threw the ball, Pucca ran after it but Kal laid down on the grass, next to Y/N.

“Flojo.” Y/N said jokingly, letting Kal but that’s when she saw a big man try to take Pucca. “The fuck.” Y/N got up.

After getting stopped by a few people, Henry finally spotted his dog.

“There you are Kal! Don’t run off like that again, you are on a tight leash now.” Henry said, attaching the leash to ‘Kals’ collar. “Let’s go” Henry tried to move but the dog wasn’t moving. “I’m not happy right now, Kal, don’t make this difficult.” He reached down to carry the dog until he heard a woman’s voice.

“What are you doing with my dog?!?” The woman shouted.

“Listen miss, this is my dog.” Henry said.

“No she’s not, now put down MY dog before I slap you.” The woman said.

“This is my dog Kal.” Henry said.

“Oh you’re Kal’s owner. Well, that Akita’s name is Pucca.” Pointing to the dog Henry is carrying. “That Akita is Kal.” She said pointing to the Akita on the blanket a few feet away. “Can you put Pucca down now?”

“My apologies.” Henry said, immediately unclipping the leash and leaving Pucca on the ground and Pucca ran to join Kal. “I’m Henry.”

“I’m Y/N. How could you leave Kal unsupervised? What if there were actual dognappers in this park?” Y/N asked him.

“I didn’t leave him unsupervised, he ran off.” Henry asked.

“Well he clearly didn’t have a leash with him so muy responsable no es, verdad?” Y/N said.

“Well our dogs are unsupervised right now, you’re not very responsible either.” Henry said.

“It’s a dog park! As long as your dogs are trained and not reactive, they can roam around. I know most of the people on this park as well so I’m perfectly fine.” Y/N said. Henry and Y/N walked to where her blanket was and sat down so they could keep an eye on their dogs.

“Alright, I’m sorry for almost dognapping Pucca. What kind of name is that, by the way?” Henry asked and Y/N gasped offendedly

“Pucca is the name of an adorable cartoon girl that practices ninjitsu. What about Kal, hm?” Y/N asked.

“Kal is named after Superman, I played Clark Kent so I thought it was fitting.” Henry said.

“You played Clark Kent? Henry Cavill played Clark Kent in the Man of Steel movie.” Y/N said.

“I am Henry Cavill.” Henry said amused by the fact she doesn’t know who he is.

“Let me just Google this, one second. Holy shit, I just yelled at Henry Cavill, I am so sorry for suggesting you are a bad dog owner, I’m sure you’re not.” Y/N apologized and Henry laughed.

“How do you not recognize me?” Henry asked.

“Like I know you by name just not by face.” Y/N said (I admit that was me last year 😂😂)

“You never saw any of my movies?” Henry asked.

“Nope, should I watch your movies?” Y/N asked.

“Only if you want.” Henry replied and he looks at Kal playing with Pucca. “They see, to really like each other.”

“Well there aren’t many Akita owners, they aren’t for everyone.” Y/N commented.

“Since they get along really well, we should keep in touch.” Henry said, looking at Y/N.

“Are you trying to get my number, Superman?” Y/N asked.

“Yes I am. That way I could I also make it up to you.” Henry said.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, you already apologized.” Y/N said

“Well i still want to go on a date with the woman who was willing to slap me for her dog.” Henry said.

“I would have done worse too if i didn’t think you could beat my ass.” Y/N said and Henry chuckled.

“I would never lay a hand on a woman. So where would you like to eat?” Henry asked and Y/N giggled.

“Okay, coqueto, are all Hollywood actors this forward or just the British ones?” Y/N asked.

“Actually I think it’s just me.” Henry said and winked at the end of his sentence.

“In that case, i obviously like Latin food, but an Italian place would be good. Vámonos, Pucca!” Y/N yelled and Pucca moved her head and ran to Y/N to sit by her feet. Y/N told Henry to get up so she could fold the blanket.

“You wouldn’t leave without giving me your number, would you?” Henry asked.

“Give me your phone, coqueto.” Y/N said and Henry did just that. “There’s my number, call me whenever you want to set up a playdate or just a date. It was nice meeting you and Kal.” Y/N said and left with Pucca but stopped to pet Kal one more time before leaving the park completely.

“What do you think, Bear? Do we have a chance?” Henry asked and Kal barked, wagging his tail. “I thought so, let’s go home.”

The End

I think depending on the plot, Henry Cavill’s nicknames are going to be different

@warriormirkwood

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (9)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Nine

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: The Christmas party is finally here, and you get to meet the family. The good and the bad.

WC: 8k (I'm so sorry 😭)

CW: Fluff, party antics, all of the Ateez members are here, mentions of eating a lot of food, alcohol consumption (not done by the reader), angst, arguing, screaming, crying, comfort, hugs, kisses

AN: I knew this would be long but not THIS long, I'm so sorry about that, and I'm sorry this took so long, but it's finally here. 🥰

Disclaimer: The bio mom in this story is NOT based on anyone irl. Her character is made up and her name was chosen at random.

With that said, this might be a triggering chapter for some of you who have dealt with abusive parents, but that content is towards the end of the chapter. Please keep that in mind as you read.

With that being said, most of the chapter is still fun and fluffy, and as always, I hope you enjoy. 💜

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @becauseilovedyou @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop

Wooyoung came to your side at the decorative table that Seonghwa had by the Christmas tree, carrying a plastic bag of assorted candies. Some of them were the usual Christmas themed ones, like Christmas Hershey kisses and M&Ms. But there were a few you didn’t recognize. 

You pulled out a box that had a small tray of what looked like Neapolitan ice cream on it. Next to it was a kid with a green hat eating some of it. The word “Duvalin” was written in big yellow letters above the candy and the kid.

“What’s this?” You asked, looking over the box again. Wooyoung looked up from where he was laying out the other candy in fancy glass plates and bowls. 

“Oh, Duvalin. It’s kinda like pudding, but thicker.” He took the box from you and opened it, offering one to you. “Here, try it.” 

You took the small tray from him and peeled off the plastic. Like the box, it had the three flavors of “pudding” laid next to each other. You were about to dive in when Wooyoung offered you a small stick. 

“If Eomma sees you eat it like that, he’ll have a heart attack.” 

You looked over Wooyoung’s shoulder, seeing Seonghwa in the kitchen working on setting the food up in the kitchen. He paid no mind to either of you, he was busy making sure everything was set up for when people would be arriving. 

(Even though they wouldn’t be here for another hour)

You still took the spoon from Wooyoung and scooped up a generous portion of the three flavors before you took a bite. And it tasted like Neopalitan ice cream, as you expected. But it was sweeter, and the chocolate tasted more like Nutella. 

Wooyoung went back to his chore when he saw you nod and continue to happily eat the candy. “My friend introduced me to that, and a few others.” 

“Do I know this friend?” You asked, going back for another scoop. 

“No, she’s from high school. She went to another college, so you’ve never met her.” 

“Is she coming to the party?” 

“I asked her.” Wooyoung poured the Christmas M&Ms into an intricate glass bowl before he put the lid on top. “But apparently she’s with her own family right now, and she said that they probably would let her leave.” 

You were befuddled at the idea of an adult visiting their family would suddenly have their rights revoked like that. But then you realized that your parents probably would’ve done the same to them if you still talked to them. 

“I’ll introduce you someday.” Wooyoung looked up at you and smiled. “You’d like her.” 

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa called from the kitchen. “Please come here, I can’t hold all these things at once!” 

Wooyoung quickly ran off to help Seonghwa, and you were left there by the front door with your cup of Duvalin. You were surprised when you felt a little hurt that you weren’t asked to help. 

As you stood there slightly stunned, there was a knock at the door. 

You stared at the door like a deer in headlights for a few moments before you finally shook yourself. Just answer the door, you thought, but you couldn’t. You were stopped by questions you didn’t have answers to. Questions that needed to be answered. 

How did you introduce yourself? You and Seonghwa hadn’t discussed if you were going to tell his family that you were “together.” 

But if you didn’t tell them now, and just introduced yourself as Wooyoung’s friend, when would Seonghwa tell the others? How would they take it after knowing they’d been sold a lie? 

How would they accept the relationship at all? Would they? Would any of them approve of a relationship between someone much older and younger? 

What if- 

“Why are you frozen?” Wooyoung asked, walking past you to the door. You shook yourself out of your thoughts as he went to open the door. You did your best to swallow back the anxiety and put on your best fake smile. 

Then you remembered your cup of Duvalin, and you quickly put it aside on the candy table. 

Wooyoung pulled open the door, and his eyes lit up with stars. “Hongjoong!” He threw his arms around the man standing there, who returned the hug with one arm, a warm smile on his lips. 

“Hi Young-ah,” he said, and his voice was higher than you expected, but he sounded safe. Even just from that, you knew this man was safe. 

Wooyoung pulled back and led Hongjoong into the house, where he stopped and smiled at you. Now you got a better look at the older man, who wasn’t much taller than Wooyoung. 

He wore a flowy white shirt and black dress pants underneath a brown fur coat. The top of his shirt left open to show off a little bit of his chest. His blond hair was combed back away from his face, but there were a few strands left out to frame his face. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t blush a little. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” Hongjoong said as he slipped his shoes off, looking at you as he spoke. Anxiety pumped inside you as you tried to figure out the correct words to introduce yourself. 

“Oh, I’m Wooyoung’s friend,” you said simply, adding your name afterwards, flashing the best smile you could. Hongjoong nodded as he slid the coat off his shoulders, a warm smile still on his face. His comfort and ease made you relax a little. 

“I’m Hongjoong.”He bowed to you, which left you a little confused before you remembered to return the gesture. Hongjoong came back up and smiled at you. “We’ll talk more in a moment, I just need to talk to Seonghwa first.” He turned to Wooyoung the next second. “Is he in the kitchen?” 

“Yeah, he’s dealing with the food.” Wooyoung was holding onto Hongjoong’s coat, looking for the moment he could yank it away. You bit your lip to keep the laughter in. 

Hongjoong caught it too and smiled, pulling away the coat. “Thank you, I’ll go talk to him.” Wooyoung pouted as he watched Hongjoong hang his coat up in the closet before he went to the kitchen. 

“I wanted to do that,” he whined, and you finally laughed. 

“It’s a jacket, Woo.” 

“And I wanna steal it.” 

“Good luck with that!” Hongjoong called from the kitchen. Both you and Wooyoung burst into laughter at that. 

Not long later, you and Wooyoung were setting out appetizers on the dining table when there was another knock on the door. Wooyoung ran over to open the door again, and there were two men instead of one this time. 

The blond one was only slightly taller than the brown haired one. They were dressed similarly to Hongjoong, but they wore knitted sweaters instead. The blond’s was cream colored, and the brown haired one’s was black. 

They both looked up at you and smiled. “Wooyoung, who’s this?” The blond one asked, motioning to you. Wooyoung looked over his shoulder and waved you over, to which you smiled back as you walked over. Wooyoung put his hand on your shoulder as you stood next to him. 

“This is my friend, they came with me this year.” 

“You’re not spending Christmas with your family?” The brown haired one asked, sliding his coat off. The blond haired one took it and started putting both their coats away, but not without a disapproving look. Wooyoung’s hand tightened on your shoulder. 

You panicked for a moment, because you expected this question, but you weren’t sure how to answer it. You didn’t need to tell all Seonghwa’s friends all the reasons why you didn’t talk with your parents, but you knew some people would still press for answers. 

But what came out was simple and to the point: 

“No, I’ve been with Wooyoung and Seonghwa since Winter Break started.” 

The brown haired one looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but the blond grabbed his hand and squeezed, giving you a sweet smile. “Well, we’re glad to have you.” You smiled back and nodded in thanks. “I’m Yunho, this is Mingi.” 

Mingi smiled now and nodded too. “Or you can just call us “uncle”, since that’s what Wooyoung calls us.” 

Looking at the two men, they looked nothing like Seonghwa, and Wooyoung looked nothing like them. You deduced that they were uncles in the “friends with your parents” way. You just nodded, knowing you very well might forget their names. 

Your eyes drifted down and you noticed a band of gold on Mingi’s left hand. Your eyes flicked back to the men’s joined hands and saw a matching one on Yunho’s finger. 

To be honest, you could sense it from the moment you saw them. 

“Eomma’s in the kitchen,” Wooyoung blurted, breaking the short silence. 

“Alright, we’ll go see him,” Yunho said as he smiled at Wooyoung, ruffling his dark hair. He added a short sentence in Korean as he and Mingi made their way to the kitchen, which made Wooyoung shoot something back as he laughed. 

“What was that?” You asked as Wooyoung turned back to you. 

“He told me to behave and not drive Eomma crazy.” 

“And you said?” 

“I said no promises.” 

“I don’t expect any less from you.” 

You both burst into laughter all over again. The four men in the kitchen couldn’t help but smile at the lovely sound. 

“Wooyoung’s never brought a friend home for this long,” Mingi said as he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “Are you sure they’re “just a friend”, or are they more?” 

Seonghwa bit the inside of his cheek, knowing the obvious answer, but he wasn’t ready to tell his friends he was involved with someone about half his age. Even though Wooyoung was okay with it, the relationship itself was still looked down on. 

His friends hadn’t judged his relationships, his lifestyle, the way he dressed, or his job. His friends had been incredibly supportive of him, and Wooyoung too. 

But he wasn’t ready to tell people yet. 

“No, those two aren’t together,” Seonghwa said, leaning on the kitchen island on his arms. 

“How are you so sure?” 

“Because Wooyoung wouldn’t be able to keep it hidden.” 

The four men laughed to themselves. But with that revelation, anxiety prickled across Seonghwa’s skin. Hopefully Wooyoung wouldn’t accidentally let anything slip about you and him. 

“He can’t keep secrets to save his life,” Hongjoong added, leaning back on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Once when we were still dating, I told Wooyoung I had a surprise for Seonghwa, and we hardly made it five minutes before Wooyoung said something.”  

“Did he outright say it?” Yunho asked, leaning against the counter next to the sink. Mingi was next to him, his arm around the other’s waist. 

“No, he didn’t directly tell him, but it was obvious enough that Seonghwa figured it out.” 

Seonghwa smiled as he thought about it. Hongjoong had surprised him with a date night, where they’d go to a restaurant and then the newest Star Wars movie at the time. 

Wooyoung, who was coming with, couldn’t stop talking about the movie for the rest of the time between when he got home with Hongjoong and the time Seonghwa got his surprise. 

Hongjoong stopped telling Wooyoung his plans for surprises after that. 

“I still enjoyed it,” Seonghwa smiled at Hongjoong, to which Hongjoong returned it. 

Sometimes, Seonghwa considered trying again. Opening the door back up and seeing if they could make it work one more time. 

But Hongjoong had found a girlfriend a year prior. And now Seonghwa had you. 

The four looked towards the living room when they heard Wooyoung’s voice again, along with a few new ones. Seonghwa stood up and excused himself to go see Wooyoung’s friends, two of whom he knew already. 

But as Seonghwa reached the front door, he met the one he was unfamiliar with. He was taller than Wooyoung by a few inches, with broad shoulders and massive arms. He stretched out the material of his dress shirt thin when he put his arms around Wooyoung to hug him. 

He had dark, slicked back hair, with sharp facial features, and eyes that could kill. 

Honestly, he was incredibly intimidating. 

But then he watched you and Wooyoung take turns hugging him, and all the intimidation melted away. He spoke brightly, with his dark eyes turning to little slits when he smiled, and little dimples on his cheeks. 

“Wooyoung, who’s this?” Seonghwa asked as he walked up to his son. 

You looked up and ducked out to talk to Yeosang and Jongho as they were putting away their coats, but all of you were watching the three of them out of the corner of your eye. 

“Do you think he knows?” Jongho whispered, in reference to Seonghwa knowing about Wooyoung and San. 

“How could he not?” Yeosang whispered back, side eyeing the two boys. “It’s not like they’re very good at keeping the ‘secret’.” 

You and Yeosang tried to stifle the giggle that threatened to come out by covering your mouths, but Wooyoung heard it, and shot you both a dirty glare before he turned back to Seonghwa with a smile.

“Eomma, this is San. San, this is my mom, Seonghwa.” San smiled brightly at Seonghwa, his eyes turning to slits again before he gave a small bow. Seonghwa returned it, as he began to see his son’s taste more and more. 

And he was approving of the man he chose. 

“Thank you for letting us come to the party,” San said as he came back up. 

“Of course, you’re always welcome here.” Seonghwa put his hand on San’s shoulder, and that was the moment that San realized that Seonghwa knew. 

As if Seonghwa couldn’t tell from how San’s arm was still around Wooyoung’s waist, or how Wooyoung had his arm on San’s shoulder. The way Wooyoung looked at San with stars in his eyes and the sweetest smile. 

“I trust you with my son,” he said softly before he pulled back. 

Wooyoung’s eyes went wide before his face turned tomato red. San’s cheeks began to turn red and he looked away, his arm tightening around Wooyoung. Seonghwa still just smiled as you were giggling with Yeosang and Jongho by the door. 

The tension in the air disappeared. It was warm instead, as it should be on Christmas. 

And then Wooyoung interrupted. 

“How did you know?!” 

All of you burst into laughter. The three men in the kitchen were laughing too. 

With all the joy and laughter, with the happy arrival of your friends, with meeting the uncles, you managed to relax. In the comfort of your friends, everything seemed bright and happy. 

So much so that you almost forgot that the night was far from over. 

Seonghwa had excused himself to change into something more fitting for the party. And when he came back, you nearly fell to your knees. 

He wore a strapless, floor length, red velvet dress. The bodice was similar to a corset, with jewels over where the boning would be, and all over the waist line and top of the dress. The skirt was form fitting, hugging his body just right and showing off everything. 

He’d done his hair and makeup too, letting the dramatic looks out for once. He’d curled his hair, but put half of it into a ponytail, letting the rest fall free.

He’d worn red sparkly eyeshadow with large eyeliner wings, with glossy red lips to match and a little bit of pink on his cheeks. 

He looked at you with his eyes half closed and smiled softly before he went to greet some of the guests that had arrived when he was gone. 

You could’ve shattered the glass of the drink you were holding. 

You wanted nothing more than to grab him and hold him so tight, to kiss his stupid shiny lips and tear the gorgeous dress off his body. Wooyoung was giggling beside you as you loosened your death drip on your glass. 

“What are you laughing at?” you spat, looking at him instead. 

“You, idiot. You look like you’re about to explode.” 

You smacked his shoulder, which only made him giggle more. “Maybe I am,” you mumbled before you took a sip of your drink, 

Wooyoung had changed too, but he just wore a big blue and white striped sweater with nice pants. You were wearing something similar, valuing comfort over fashion tonight. Seeing Seonghwa’s outfit now, it felt like you both were underdressed. 

The party had been amazing otherwise. Wooyoung had introduced you to the other aunts, uncles, and cousins that had come to the party. Thankfully, most of them didn’t ask why you weren’t with your own family. 

Wooyoung dragged you along to talk to Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi as well, which you were hoping to do anyway. 

You hung onto Hongjoong’s every word as he talked about the many artists he’d worked with, the songs he produced, and he even let you and Wooyoung hear sneak peeks of some unreleased projects. 

Yunho and Mingi were both lawyers at the same firm, but they both insisted that they’d rather talk about anything else than their job on Christmas. So you talked about a great deal of things, and even eventually asked how they met each other. 

The two gave each other a smile before they looked back at you. “We were on opposite sides of one case,” Yunho began, with a storyteller type tone, far off and dreamy. “We ended up meeting each other after it was settled, and the rest is history.” 

“Who won the case?” Wooyoung asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear the answer again anyway. 

Yunho sighed as Mingi smiled proudly. “Mingi did.” 

Mingi reached over and squeezed his hand. “It wasn’t an easy win.” 

“Of course not, I worked my ass off for that case!” 

You and Wooyoung couldn’t help but devolve into giggles like little kids. 

But for most of the time, you stayed with San, Yeosang, and Jongho. You all naturally gravitated back towards each other when you were pulled away, so you all ended up sticking together. Laughing, yelling, messing with all of Wooyoung’s family, stealing the food. 

Then Seonghwa came back and nearly turned you into a puddle in front of everyone. 

You were trying to clear the redness from your face, Wooyoung still giggling beside you, when you heard a knock at the door. 

The part you’d forgotten about. The catch to everything. The rain for the parade. 

You almost didn’t hear it over the chatter of the party, but Wooyoung definitely heard it. His face instantly fell and body went rigid. 

You put your drink down and grabbed Wooyoung’s hand. He shook himself out of his frozen state to look at you, and you saw that scared little boy again. The same one from those weeks ago when he opened up to you about the villain who was on the other side of the door. 

You’d promised him many weeks ago that he wouldn’t be alone. You’d be by his side, you wouldn’t let him go through it alone. Especially not now. 

“I’ll go with you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. Wooyoung squeezed your hand back. 

“Okay,” he mumbled, staring at the floor, his shoulders drooping, his hands growing slick. 

You knew this feeling all too well. This internal battle. This anxiety that threatened to consume you completely. You began to feel your heart pounding against your ribs. You were hoping you’d have more time before you had to confront something like this again. 

But you’d do it for Wooyoung. You’d shove your fear aside to support Wooyoung. 

You walked with him to the front door. You kept your fingers laced with his as he hesitated to open the door. You squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed back. 

You could hear your heartbeat in your head now. Breathing was growing more difficult. 

You both took a deep, long breath. And then the door was open. 

At first glance, she didn’t look like much. She was shorter then Wooyoung, about your height, with long dark hair done in a braid down her shoulder, with a dark green knee length dress. 

But everyone knows this song and dance: Looks can be deceiving. 

“Wooyoung!” The woman squealed, throwing her arms out to hug him tightly. Wooyoung used his free arm to hug her back, still keeping his hand locked with yours. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much! It’s been months!” 

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Wooyoung said flatly, patting her back. 

The woman hugged him a few seconds too long before she finally pulled back and came inside the house. “Oh, who’s this?” She asked, her tone teasing, clearly hinting at more as she saw your joined hands. Instinctively, you wanted to pull your hand back and tell her it’s not what she thought. 

But you shoved that aside as you just smiled and squeezed his hand. “I’m his friend. I wanted to spend Christmas with him this year.” 

“Not with your own family?” She cocked an eyebrow as she looked at Wooyoung, as if he’d somehow have the answer. He just looked at you. 

You could’ve said a lot. You were already thinking of venomous retorts you could throw at her. Her, who you knew despite her pretty face and sweet voice, was exactly like the people you’d escaped years before. 

But all you said was: “Nope.” 

Wooyoung’s mother blinked in confusion, expecting more, but when she realized you weren’t going to say anything else, she forced a smile. “Alright, well, I hope you’ve had a good time with him.” 

“I have,” you said simply, giving her the same fake smile she gave you. 

You were already growing exhausted of this facade. Your heart was pounding so hard, you could hear it in your head. Your hands were slowly growing slick. 

She simply nodded before she bowed only her head. You returned the gesture. “My name is Hajoon. Yours?” 

You gave her your name. Begrudgingly. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Hajoon said dismissively before she turned back to Wooyoung. But you stayed beside Wooyoung, holding his hand that was tightly gripping yours. 

“Woo, honey,” she cooed, reaching up to hold Wooyoung’s cheek. It took everything in him to not flinch and not move away from her hand. “You haven’t answered me in months. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he said. He shifted his weight around and swallowed, his throat bobbing. “I’ve just been busy this semester.” 

“Aww, my poor baby.” Hajoon pouted. “You can always ask me if you need help, you know.” 

“I know, but I have help already.” Wooyoung raised his hand which was joined with yours. “If I didn’t have their help, I would’ve been kicked out a long time ago.” 

Hajoon looked at you as you looked away, a blush creeping into your cheeks. He was giving you a little too much credit, but it wasn’t a complete lie. He did need your help sometimes, and you were willing to help. 

“Isn’t that sweet?” Hajoon gushed with a big smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m glad you have help, baby, but I’ll still be here if you need it.” 

Wooyoung nodded once. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Hajoon stayed silent for a moment, but when she realized Wooyoung had nothing else to say, she just nodded too. 

She hugged him again, and like before, Wooyoung just patted her back with one hand. She pulled back and pressed a kiss to his cheek before she let go. “I’ll go say hi to everyone else, and then we’ll talk more, okay?” 

Wooyoung mumbled an “okay” as she walked away. As soon as she was far enough away, he rubbed his cheek with the sleeve of his sweater. 

You let out a huge sigh of relief as you finally let go of Wooyoung’s hand. You both wiped your hands off on your clothes before you turned to each other. 

“That was exhausting,” you said as you watched Hajoon make her way through the people with that goddamn fake smile. 

“Exactly.” Wooyoung took a deep breath before he hung his head. “I just hope she doesn’t start anything.” 

“I’ll be here.” You rubbed his shoulder. “You’re not alone.” He still didn’t look up at you, but he nodded. 

She took everything out of him. It was only a little over a minute, but Hajoon just being here exhausted Wooyoung. You felt it too. The exhaustion from just being stressed that this person might do something, from keeping up the mask that you tolerate this person. 

Your heart ached when you saw it. But it was a different ache. It was painful. It hurt so badly. 

You pulled Wooyoung into a hug and held him tight. He hugged you back instantly, leaning his head on your shoulder. 

“You’re not alone,” you said softly, rubbing his back. Wooyoung nodded again. You couldn’t see it, but he was fighting tears. 

You’d say it until you couldn’t anymore. You’d be there for him. You’d be at his side tonight. 

He wasn’t alone. And he never would be. 

Seonghwa saw the two of you locked in the hug and went over, putting his hand on Wooyoung’s back. Wooyoung pulled back and looked up, wiping his eyes. 

“If she says anything to you, I’ll take care of her,” Seonghwa said softly. Wooyoung nodded, blinking back the rest of the tears. You reached up and rubbed his arm, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

Seonghwa leaned in and pressed a kiss to Wooyoung’s forehead. Wooyoung returned the kiss with one on his cheek before Seonghwa pulled back. “You know, Hongjoong was telling me he had some artists you’d probably like to meet before you go back to college.” 

Wooyoung’s face lit up and his smile melted away any of the tension that was there. “Really? Where is he?” 

“He’s on the couch, I told him I’d go get you.”

Wooyoung took off running for the couch, leaving you and Seonghwa alone by the door. He looked at you, and you looked at him. 

As badly as you wanted to hug him and kiss his Christmas red lips, you’d have to restrain yourself until the party was over. 

“Are you enjoying the party otherwise, dear?” Seonghwa asked, his mother voice coming in thickly. You gave him a small smile as you nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ve been having fun.” 

Seonghwa smiled back. “Good. I hope it stays that way,” he added, trailing off. You could only nod in answer, hoping for the same. 

If only you knew. 

It’d been only an hour after Hajoon arrived, and everyone already wanted her gone. 

Not because she was fighting with anyone, but because everyone knew her “rot your teeth sweetness” was a bald-faced lie. 

She stayed close to Wooyoung most of the time, being touchy and huggy, talking about herself more than talking with him about anything else. 

You were with Wooyoung through it all, and you were both bored to tears hearing about her jobs, her friends, her latest ex boyfriend. It’s like she was gossiping like a teenager, but she was in her forties. 

It didn’t help that Hajoon was the biggest drinker there. She was already halfway to hammered by the time the first hour was over. 

Her conversation topics started becoming more nonsensical and inappropriate. Most of the time, neither you nor Wooyoung had any clue what she was trying to say. 

It was mostly tame until Seonghwa came up behind you two. You were sitting on the couch, and Hajoon was sitting in one of the chairs. She scowled as he put his hands on Wooyoung’s shoulders, but he ignored the look, focusing on you two. 

“You can eat dinner now if you’re hungry,” Seonghwa said, looking between the two of you. “Some people have already gotten theirs, so it’s not as crowded.” 

“Thanks Eomma-” Wooyoung started, then instantly shut his mouth before he spoke again. “Dad.” 

But Hajoon heard it. 

Wooyoung tried to cover it up and flash a sweet little smile, but his death grip on your hand told you otherwise. 

“He’s not your eomma,” Hajoon slurred, her words barely discernible from each other. “You never call me eomma, Wooyoung.” She was trying to be serious, but the slurred speech just made her sound ridiculous. 

“Hajoon, go eat something, you’re drunk,” Seonghwa spat, more forcefully than you or Wooyoung expected. 

And that was the moment you both realized that it was time. The event you were both mentally preparing for, this was it. 

You both braced for Hajoon to spit back at him, but she just stared. But if looked could kill, Seonghwa would’ve been dead and buried. 

She kept up that stare for a few seconds before she got up and stormed into the kitchen. 

You and Wooyoung looked at each other in bewilderment. Even Seonghwa was stunned. 

“Take it and don’t say anything,” you whispered. Wooyoung and Seonghwa both nodded in agreement. Don’t push her, don’t say anything else that might piss her off. 

She was already a bomb with the fuse lit. But the length of said fuse wasn’t anything the three of you knew. 

“Why don’t you two wait a minute, then go get food, okay?” Seonghwa offered. You and Wooyoung nodded, to which Seonghwa nodded back before he walked away. 

The two of you sat in silence the minute you waited to go get food, your hands still interlocked. Why hadn’t Hajoon said anything? It was the perfect excuse for her to go off, but she didn’t. Why? Did she think it wasn’t worth it? 

Wooyoung knew her far better than you did (obviously), and he knew that in all Seonghwa and Hajoon’s years of being broken up, she’d always take a chance to start a fight or say something to him that she didn’t need to. 

She wasn’t always the instigator though. Sometimes, Seonghwa would start it. If Wooyoung happened to overhear or be present, he’d apologize for it. But the point of the matter is that the two had countless spats over the years. 

So why Hajoon stayed silent was a mystery to him and Seonghwa, and you by extension. 

You didn’t need to know their history to know that an abusive narcissist loved to fight, especially if they thought they were correct. Especially when she was drunk, no less. 

Whatever the reason, it made you both tense for whenever she would actually start something. 

You both tried not to think about it as you went to grab food. By that point, you were the last two besides Seonghwa who had to eat. Thankfully, because of Seonghwa’s wonderful planning, there was still plenty of food for you to grab. 

You loaded your plates up with as much food as you could, as you both hadn’t eaten for hours. Wooyoung especially was stacking food on top of itself. 

“Are you sure you’re gonna eat all that?” You teased. Wooyoung just gave you a sly smirk and said nothing. 

You were both ready to make your way back to the couch, but as you were ready to leave the kitchen, San, Yeosang, and Jongho were already at the dining table, calling you both over. 

Wooyoung happily went to sit with them, and you were about to follow, but Seonghwa gently grabbed onto your arm. You didn’t even realize he’d come into the kitchen. 

You looked up as he pulled you back a little, smiling warmly at you with half closed eyes. “Stay back with me for a second, please? I need some help with something.” 

You knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t actually need anything. 

Except for you. 

You set your plate on the kitchen counter and let him lead you to the back of the kitchen, to a walk-in pantry, of which Seonghwa pulled you into and closed the door behind him. 

“We’re not going to-” You started, but Seonghwa was already shaking his head as he pulled you into his arms. 

“No, not now,” he murmured against your hair, holding you tight against his chest. “I just wanted to hold you.” You gladly melted into his arms and hugged him back. 

You’d been waiting for a moment where you could sneak off with Seonghwa and be with him for just a few minutes. To be in his arms, to just be you two again away from everyone else. Being around other people and pretending he wasn’t anything to you was torture. 

But now you two were alone, and now you were wrapped up in his arms, just like you always wanted to be. 

“You look gorgeous,” you said softly. Seonghwa couldn’t help but smile as heat rushed to his cheeks. 

“Thank you, jagiya. You look adorable.” You smiled bigger and nuzzled into his chest. His velvet dress felt wonderful against your skin, so soft, just as you imagined it would feel. 

You both needed this. Just a couple minutes alone, relaxing in each other's warmth. 

You knew you were going to be back in Seonghwa’s bed by the end of the night, but you couldn’t wait that long to hug him again. 

You wished you could’ve been by Seonghwa’s side all night. His arm around you while you were pressed against him, leaning on his shoulder. Your gorgeous boyfriend, keeping you with him, showing you off as his cute little partner. 

Maybe someday, you’d get there. 

You pulled back and looked up at Seonghwa, giving him your own half closed, loving gaze, similar to the one he always gave you. He held you even tighter as he came up to hold the back of your neck to pull you into a soft kiss. 

His gloss tasted like cherries. 

It was meant to be a soft and quick kiss, but one kiss turned to two, three, four needy ones before you knew it. 

Four turned into who knows how many, with you both gripping onto each other desperately, Seonghwa’s tongue pushing it’s way past your lips to deepen the kiss. You were addicted to his soft moans and heavy breaths, the way they were swallowed up by your kisses. You ran your hand down his body to keep them going- 

“What the fuck?!” 

You both jumped away from each other at the screech, You whipped your head to the door and your heart sunk to your feet. 

It was Hajoon. 

Seonghwa quickly stepped in front of you and held his arm out to keep you back. “Hajoon, this is none of your-”

But she cut him off, screeching like a wild animal. “You’re disgusting! Forcing yourself on someone your son’s age!” 

“He wasn’t forcing-” You tried to interject, but Seonghwa pushed you back a little more as Hajoon continued. 

“You couldn’t find anyone else our age to tolerate you, so you’re going after our son’s friends?! Were you just gonna go down the line and take your pick?!” 

You reached out and held onto Seonghwa’s hand. It was hard to get air in, like your lungs had shrunk. Your heart felt like it was about to explode. Your clothes were clinging to your body with sweat. 

“Hajoon, enough.” Seonghwa’s voice had dropped lower and his head was tilted down, staring at her through his brows. “You don’t know everything-” 

“I don’t need to know anything, I can see it all right here!” 

“Hajoon-” 

“Pretending to be a woman wasn’t enough for you, now you’re a predator?!” 

Just like that, the fear disappeared, and white hot anger washed over you. 

But as you opened your mouth to tear her to shreds, another voice popped up. 

“You do NOT get to call him that.” 

Wooyoung stormed up to Hajoon and stood in front of her, staring her down, his eyes dark and devoid of anything else but pure rage. 

But she just stared at him with the same anger she had for Seonghwa. 

“Oh, so you’re defending this?” She spat, motioning to you and Seonghwa as the this. “You’re okay with your father forcing himself on your friend?!” 

Wooyoung’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides, shaking a little. His jaw was clenched tight like a vice. 

You’d never seen him more infuriated. 

“He’s not forcing himself on anyone,” Wooyoung all but growled out. “You don’t know anything about this, Mom.” 

“Why would I need to?! This is wrong! What if I started dating one of your friends, would it still be okay then?” Despite being shorter than Wooyoung, Hajoon still seemed like she was larger. Like an unstoppable force, an immovable object. 

Wooyoung stared at her for a few moments, turning the words over in his head before he finally spit them back out at her. 

“No, because I wouldn’t want my friends to date someone as bitchy and abusive as you.” 

There it was, the spark that finally set off the bomb. 

“How dare you?!” Hajoon screamed, then began to sob. Your hands shook with anger as memories came up again. “It’s not true, but you keep saying it! What did I do that was so cruel to you, what made me so abusive?!” 

But despite her crying, her begging, her drunken, wild craze, Wooyoung didn’t flinch. There was no sympathy in his eyes. There was nothing. 

“Do you really want a list?” He asked flatly. Hajoon wailed again. 

“You’re such a liar!” She cried, wiping away some of the crocodile tears off her cheeks. “What made you like this?” She started to reach out to hold his face again. “What happened to my sweet Wooyou-” 

He stepped away before she could touch him. Hajoon doubled over as if she’d been punched in the stomach, and she let out a painful sob with it. 

You and Seonghwa finally stepped out of the pantry now that you had space to. Everyone was standing in or just outside the kitchen, thanks to Hajoon. Shame washed over you and Seonghwa, but everyone was more focused on Wooyoung and Hajoon. 

“You did,” Wooyoung ground out. “YOU happened to me, Mom.” His voice cracked as his eyes filled with tears. “You taught me that screaming at people was a good way to get them to listen, you taught me that apologies don’t matter, you taught me EVERYTHING YOU NEVER want to admit to!”

The tears spilled down his cheeks the more he spoke, until all his words were just sobs and gasps. The scared little Wooyoung was back. 

The scared little boy who just wanted to be loved. 

But Hajoon didn’t see it. “Wooyoung, I have never-” 

“Hajoon,” Seonghwa interrupted, his own voice now shaky. “Leave my house.” 

She looked up at him in bewilderment, hoping he wasn’t serious. But he was giving her a similar cold look to the one Wooyoung gave her. But Seonghwa’s was more desperate. More tired. 

“Seonghwa-” 

“Don’t ever come back.” 

You squeezed Seonghwa’s hand. He finally squeezed back. 

With one final cry, Hajoon stormed out of the house, pushing past everyone else to grab her things and slam the front door behind her. 

No one said a word. The house was filled with a tension so thick, it was suffocating, like it was invading your lungs and forcing out the air. 

There was a lot that needed to be said. Looking at everyone’s confused and worried faces, there was an imminent and long conversation that needed to be started, but you didn’t know what to say. 

But you looked over at Wooyoung, who’d pulled himself back against the wall with his face covered, trying to stop crying, and you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over yourself. 

You pulled away from Seonghwa and nearly ran to Wooyoung, throwing your arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug. He hugged you back instantly, and you both cried in each other’s arms. 

“You did good,” you whispered, not being able to speak any louder. 

Wooyoung tightened his arms around you. “I’m a mess.” 

“That doesn’t matter.” Your throat closed up and another sob shot from your lips. “You did good, Wooyoung.” 

You didn’t know it at the time, but your words meant more to him than you knew. Wooyoung’s heart swelled hearing the words, and thankfully, he believed you. Even if he did look like a mess, he believed you when you said he did good. 

Because he did. From the way they spoke, it sounded like Wooyoung had tried to confront Hajoon, or make her see how she hurt him. 

But he properly stood up to her this time. Even if she didn’t take a single word of his and think about it, he got it off his chest. 

Wooyoung did it for himself. 

Hongjoong stepped through the crowd of people and walked over to Seonghwa, and his hands began to tremble. 

Seonghwa fully expected criticism from everyone. From not being told up front to how disgusting his current relationship was. Countless lectures and people talking down to him, telling him how wrong he was to pursue someone his son’s age. 

But Hongjoong’s eyes were sympathetic, and his body was relaxed. Seonghwa looked behind him, and Yunho and Mingi were at the front of the small crowd, with the same sympathetic look. 

San, Yeosang, and Jongho were right behind them. San was looking at Wooyoung, his face contorted into pain like he was being stabbed. 

“Do you want to tell us the truth, and not what Hajoon said?” Hongjoong asked, his voice soft. Seonghwa took a shaky breath before he nodded. 

“Yes, I’m in a…relationship of sorts with them,” he started, his eyes falling to the floor. “It’s been going on for a few weeks. I didn’t force them into this, everything, I made sure they consented.” Seonghwa’s vision grew blurry as his throat closed up, cutting off his words. 

Even as he spoke, he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his head. He couldn’t stop hearing Hajoon’s voice. Predator. 

It’d been his fear since the beginning. Isn’t that what he was? An older man pursuing someone much younger? A predator? 

“I believe you,” Hongjoong said softly, putting his hand on Seonghwa’s arm, sliding down to hold his hand. “Did you initiate this because they’re younger?” 

“No,” Seonghwa instantly spit out. “No, never.” His eyes drifted over to you. “At first, it’s because I found them attractive. But they’re sweet, and funny, helpful, respectful, patient, understanding...” He trailed off and looked back at the ground. “And they didn’t want me as just a perverted sex doll.” 

A whimper left his lips as he finished his sentence, his hand coming up to try to keep the rest of the tears inside. Hongjoong’s eyes grew heavier as he held Seonghwa’s hand tighter. 

“Then you’re not a predator, Seonghwa. I know you’re not. Please believe me when I say you’re not.” 

Seonghwa didn’t want to think he was. He didn’t want to believe he was. 

But hearing himself talk about you, and never bring up your age once made him realize it. 

He didn’t want you because you were younger. He wanted you for you. 

You pulled away from Wooyoung as your crying tapered off. You both wiped your faces off with the sleeves of your sweaters as you turned to Seonghwa. 

Neither you nor Wooyoung hesitated to hug him. The tears turned into full blown sobs as he hugged you two back. It was his turn now. 

And just like you’d known the night before, you three were together. You were still together. 

The ache in your heart was back, all over you, in every part of you. It made you squeeze Seonghwa tighter as you pressed your face back into his velvet gown. 

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was feeling it too. But so was Wooyoung. 

That moment solidified to you that you really had found a family. A family who cared. A family who would protect you. 

A family who loved you. 

Seonghwa closed the door as he said good night to Hongjoong, then turned back to you. 

Thankfully, everyone else was mostly accepting of the revelation that you and Seonghwa were in a relationship, but it killed the mood of the party, so everyone instead finished their food, exchanged their gifts, and agreed to call it a night. 

A lot of them agreed to help clean up, those being Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi, mostly helping clean up the kitchen. You and Wooyoung worked with San, Yeosang, and Jongho to freshen up the living room and dining room. 

“You two are really dating?” Yeosang had asked. You just nodded. He looked at Jongho, who looked back at him, and then at you. 

“How do you even start that?” Jongho added. 

Wooyoung piped up then when he grabbed your shoulder. “When you can’t stop drooling over the other.” 

The boys started laughing as you tried to smack Wooyoung, your face burning up remembering your first night. You were grateful that they were accepting too, but now that meant you’d get teased about it endlessly. 

But you’d rather take that over no friends at all. 

Because it was late by that point, the boys decided to stay the night (and definitely wasn’t because Wooyoung convinced San to stay first), so after clean up was done, Wooyoung took them upstairs to show them to their rooms. 

So here you were, alone again with Seonghwa. 

“I should’ve been more careful,” Seonghwa said softly. “It wasn’t a very good spot to hide.” 

“Don't beat yourself up.” You walked over to him and slipped your arms around his waist to hug him. He hugged you back, holding you tight. “You didn’t know she was going to follow us.” 

“I still regret it.” 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise, so you didn’t try. You just squeezed him instead before you looked up at him. 

“Let’s go to bed,” you offered. Seonghwa nodded, and held your hand as he led you back down the familiar route to his bedroom. 

You quickly changed into an oversized t-shirt and shorts, like you usually did, and were going to wait in bed for Seonghwa to be done. 

But you still wanted to be with him. So you went to the bathroom, where he’d already changed out of his gown and into a small pink robe, and was preparing to wash his makeup off. 

“I wanna help,” you said softly as you grabbed onto his arm. Seonghwa looked at you and couldn’t help but smile. That might’ve been the most adorable thing you’d done since you’d gotten here. 

He sat down on the toilet, and guided you through how to take off his makeup and wash his face before bed. You were gentle in everything you did, going over his face like he was made of glass. 

He gratefully leaned against your hand when you held his cheek, smiling in a tired little daze as he thought about how lucky he was to have you. 

You, who was so gentle and sweet to him, who wanted to spend so much time with him, who helped him unasked because you wanted to. You wanted to help him. 

It’d taken so many years for him to find someone again who actually wanted more from him than sex. And he found it in the most unexpected way. 

Once you were done, you both went back to bed and curled up under the covers, holding each other like you had every night before. 

You didn’t know how you were going to sleep without his steady heartbeat anymore. Without his arms holding you tight. 

You didn't want to think about it, especially as your eyes were falling closed from exhaustion. You were spent, and you were finally willing to listen and give in to the tiredness. 

Seonghwa pressed a kiss to your head as he slowly rubbed your back. “Good night, jagiya,” he whispered, closing his eyes. 

“Good night, Mommy,” you whispered back, finally succumbing to sleep in Seonghwa’s arms.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[sewerpalette]

My Human AL-AN redesign!! The video is still a WIP because I got sick haha, but yk.

At first I was scared I wouldn’t see a lot of visual Improvement, since the video is only 7 months old, but I compared the two and wow, there is a huge difference and I’m very happy with it.

Also this isn’t really much of an AU(?) it’s kinda hard to explain but it’s basically just the alien designs replaced with humanoids for my personal convenience (can’t draw em very well), with some minor story altercation that doesn’t really affect the plot. I think with AL this is easier to explain as they canonically have the ability to cause visual hallucinations, so this design would probably just be an extension of that, not really how he looks. I always liked the idea of the architects being a little eldritch that way, they have a true form but it’s unphysical, the human mind can’t make it up so the individual simply chooses what to present itself as: at least that’s my personal interpretation/headcanon.

As I’ve said before in the first post about the concept design where I further explain my decisions, I gave him a burn scar over his face from the disease research facility incident wich I imagine stuck with him in a way it, in one way or another, burns itself through every body he possesses aslong as the transfer doesn’t go wrong and he remains with the memory (also obviously to resemble his face screen).

His attire is based off of those the alterrans scientists wear, the pattern is a mix of precursor architecture textures and shapes mimicking those on his body, the logo on the lab coat is inspired by the architect statues from BZ, wich i reaaaally loved.

Hair/face shaped to vaguely resemble his face plate thingy and horns.

Also gave them a bag in wich I imagine carries all the different tools that are built into their arms in the game, because I’d rather die than draw those again beyond blocking in rough shapes haha, bag coincidentally ended up having a sea dragon color palette wich I initially wanted to change but ended up really loving because it kinda symbolises his guilt haunting him a little. it’s also stacked to the brim with enzyme 42 for obvious reasons.

I also still stand by the idea that the architects would look a little uncanny when trying to resemble humans, they can mimic them to near perfection, but something is just off, the body ratio looks strange, neck a few centimetres too long, shoulders a tad bit too low, lower legs too long, face moving too monotonely, small things like that yk.

Had to rerender this because I started drawing at like 6am at wich point my brain was rotting so hard I completely forgot what brushes I use, but that doesn’t really matter since I love to render so yk lol.

I made a poll on Instagram asking wether or not people liked the glasses, because on one hand I felt it made the colors more even whilst directing attention at and lighting the face nicely, but on the other I don’t really wanna make every „smart“ character have glasses, so I decided that these are reading glasses, wich means he does have them but he can also go without.

here is the alternative without:

[wosowrites]

Moose (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: none

prompt: in which the reader and jessie play for chelsea and before they leave for the world cup reader makes jessie a crochet moose which becomes the team mascot for canada.

a/n: based off this request here also a super short fic because i’m still broken.

You were not at all a crafty person. Jessie had grown up with a craft room in her house and she liked to paint, draw, and do artsy things to calm herself down like her mother had taught her. When you started dating a year into her contract at Chelsea, her calmness had rubbed off on you. You had always been a stressed out person and moving in with Jessie had made you into a much more relaxed and happy human. You would go on bike rides, hikes, make crafts, paint the house every time you got bored of it and do everything together.

However the only thing you started doing on your own was crocheting. Jessie had tried it but was never big on it, so all the spare yarn in the house went to you. You loved it. You were horrific at it however. Everything turned into little colourful blobs and your creations were constantly either too loose or too messy. That’s why, when you walked into the house one day and pulled out a beautifully crocheted moose with a Canada jersey on, Jessie was baffled.

For the past three weeks, you would escape to a café every day and crochet for about an hour before going back to your girlfriend. Jessie was not a worried person and as madly in love as you both were with each other, spending a small amount of time away from each other every day just made you closer. Some days you would tell her you were grocery shopping, other days it was a meeting with your agent, a hang out with one of your German teammates.

But today, Moose was finally done.

You finished him a week and a half before the departure of the World Cup and you were in Canada with Jessie and her family. It would make it harder to travel all the way back to Germany and then to Australia but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be girlfriends instead of rivals for as long as possible.

At the dinner table that night, you picked up your glass and straightened up.

"Um, I’m not big on words as you guys have seen by now but I wanna say a couple words," you said.

Jessie’s entire family put down their cutlery and looked up at you. "I’m terrified for this World Cup. Like… horrified. It’s been four years since I’ve played a major tournament so far from you, Jess. The olympics are in one city so we can visit but in Australia… we’re constantly going to be flying around. So… I made Moose," you said.

From under the table, you grabbed a bag and pulled out the knit animal. He had a red and white swear and big old antlers. Jessie’s mouth fell open and a large smile cracked her freckled face. "I’ve been making him for weeks, and he has like… five half knit siblings that went wrong if you want them," Jessie laughed loudly and extended her hand to take the crocheted animal. "Baby… it’s perfect oh my god," she said, smiling down at the animal. "Klara taught me how to make him. That’s why I was always out for an hour or so these past weeks," You said.

Jessie hugged the plushy to her chest and then put it beside her plate. The brunette stood up and walked to behind your chair, wrapping her arms around your neck and squeezing you.

Elysse took a quick picture as Jessie’s parents raved over your new talent.

Over the next couple weeks, Jessie was seen carrying Moose during press, in the bus, around the city, at training, everywhere. She always had Moose. And if she didn’t, she had entrusted Christine Sabrina, or anyone else on the clamer side to take care of the little mascot.

After Canadas 2-1 win over Ireland, Jessie was interviewed and eventually, the subject of Moose came up.

"Is that a moose?" the woman asked, looking down at the plushie tucked under Jessie’s arm. The camera followed the reporters eyes and then went back up to the Canadian. "Yeah it is," she laughed shyly, holding up the mascot. "Is there a story benne that? I mean it’s been showing up everywhere. "There is, yeah. My… uh my girlfriend made it for me. She’s at the world cup and her friend taught her how to make it for me. We won’t be seeing each other for a while depending on how the games go so she said she wanted me to have a piece of her. It’s cute, and I didn’t think she was this artsy so it caught me by surprise for sure," Jessie said, shyly and gently.

The reporter awed over Jessie’s story but the midfielders brain was just full of images of you. She missed you so much.

That night, she called you and the whole Canadian team joined the call behind the vice- captain, thanking you for the mascot.

[dokifluffs]

Their Kid(s) Falling Asleep on Him | Ikuya, Seijuro

Pairings: Ikuya X Reader (female)

genre: domestic, fluffy goodness yuhhh 

Author’s Note: more free 😤😤 

Sosuke, Makoto // Rin, Haru 

gif from @makeusfreefromthisfandom​

Ikuya: Ikuya’s is basically based off of Monsta X’s Hyungwon 

“Ikuya, I’m home,” you called out as the plastic bags crinkled in your hold as you stepped out of your boots, making sure the snow didn’t get into the house  

Warm air from the heaters welcomed you home as you peeled off your damp winter coat, stepping into the house

You went into the living room, hearing the sound of his voice grow as you carried in lunch

He sat beneath the kotatsu, reading aloud his favorite book, the little mermaid aloud as you entered, stepping down from the hard wood to the plush soft carpet

You two decided to buy lunch for today, being too lazy to really make anything on this fine winter day

The aromatic smell of the hot food made your bellies growl

“Hey, how was the drive?” He paused from his reading as he looked up

“It was alright, Not that many cars out there but the snowfall’s getting a little lighter.” You unpacked the foods

“Where’s S/N?” You asked, curiosity peeking

Usually when you came home, your four year old son would run out from wherever he was and greet you, hugging you but today, it was silent

“Here,” Ikuya set down his book as he lifted the Kotatsu, letting you look under

And there he was

S/N was fast asleep in Ikuya’s lap, head resting on a pillow  

“He fell asleep a little after you left and couldn’t fall asleep, so I just started reading to him,” Ikuya smiled as he ruffled his son’s hair. “He really likes the story too.”

“Aw,” you leaned under, pressing a kiss to your son’s cheek as he slept, his thumb slightly in his mouth

“S/N,” you called out quietly, lightly shaking his shoulder. “S/N, time to eat,” you mumbled against his cheek before kissing him, slowly waking him

He stretched his body out, peeking his eyes open

“Sleep okay, buddy?” Ikuya chuckled as he helped his son crawl out, putting the back of his hand on the under edge of the kotatsu from bumping his head

“Mmhm,” he sat right in the corner, sitting in between of the two of you as you unloaded the bags, spreading things out

Ikuya ruffled his son’s hair as he let out a yawn, leaning back on his dad, wanting to nap a bit more

“Wash hands,” you chimed, pulling your son and husband to their feet as you all went to the bathroom and kitchen before coming back to your spots around the kotatsu

You ordered some fried shrimp, sweet tamagoyaki for ikuya while you got some oden, nikujaga, and sukiyaki

Everything smelt so fresh, it made Ikuya’s mouth water as he dug in while you portioned some things out into your son’s bowl

“Ah,” Ikuya offered a bite of his shrimp to his son, who took it but bit and chewed slowly, eyes blank as he just looked at the food

“S/N, eat up,” you placed his bowl plates in front of him on the table

He nodded quietly and lifted his training chopsticks, slowly eating his food bite by bite

You and Ikuya exchanged glances and looks, knowing what was going on and continued eating, watching your son eat

The room was quiet, the only sound of food being chewed could be heard

But the more you guys ate and the longer it went on, the sooner he was drifting

S/N’s head dropped and bounced back up, waking him up slightly as he sighed, taking another bite

“Chew chew,” Ikuya teased, playfully tapping his son’s cheeks as he could barely keep his eyes closed

“S/N?” Ikuya pushed back his food as he scooped up his son. “Chew, chew,” he looked but all the little boy could do was rub his eyes, pushing on chewing his small bite of rice before giving up

He swallowed the bite and sighed, reaching out his arms to hug Ikuya

A great smile spread on Ikuya’s face as he laughed, pulling his son close and stroking his hand down his back, letting him cling to him as he went on eating, taking bites of his food as well as some bites of food you fed to him, the two of you careful not to get any foods or sauces onto his back

Even when finished eating, he helped you clean up while your guys’ son clung to him, fast asleep as he held onto Ikuya’s sweater sleeve

“He must be so tired,” your voice quiet as you sat down beside your husband, setting down two mugs of hot cocoa with little marshmallows floating on top

His hair was soft as it brushed against your fingers, combing through them as you leaned closer, resting on Ikuya’s shoulder

“Hm, hopefully he won’t sleep too long.. He needs to eat..” Ikuya worried since his son only ate a few snacks since breakfast and just a few bites form lunch

“He will..” You assured your husband, resting your head onto his free shoulder as his head rest on top of yours, the three of you resting this wintry day together

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

[roosterforme]

Take Two | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley got you pregnant, he blew his chance at a relationship with you. He loves his daughter, but he never stopped loving you too.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff and smut

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This is based on a lovely request! Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was almost home. Deployments had always been hard on him. He loved flying, but living out of a duffle bag and sharing a bunk were difficult. He liked the feeling of stability, of being in his own house.  

He also missed his daughter so much, it made the weeks nearly unbearable. He was starting to fear that the three and a half year old wouldn't recognize him when he got back. She had eyes the same exact color as his, and he loved the way she ran into his arms when she saw him, big brown eyes smiling. 

But Bradley would be lying to himself if he said he didn't miss you, too. The toughest part about that was the fact that he was certain you didn't miss him when he was gone. Sure, you probably missed having a co-parent around, missed having Bree's dad to watch her while you worked weekends at the hospital. 

But he missed you. He missed the way you used to make love to him, and the way you used to make him feel important. He missed your voice and your lips and the way you used to sleep next to him. But that was before he knocked you up, forcing you to drop out of nursing school. And the two of you hadn't even been in a proper relationship, so you refused to humor his idea of getting married. You told him you didn't want to "tie him down". And stupidly, he had agreed. 

As Bradley deboarded from the aircraft carrier and tossed his bag into the back of a taxi, he texted you to let you know he was back. He wanted to see Bree as soon as possible. Tonight if he could. And he thought maybe both of you could come to his place. He would order a pizza, and you could stay for a while too. Bree could sleep over, and maybe you'd hang out and talk to him. 

"Great! My sitter cancelled at the last minute, and I have plans tonight. Could I swing by with her around 6?" 

Bradley jumped at the chance and let you know he would keep Bree for a few days if you wanted. Nothing would be a better welcome home treat for him than spending time with her. He just wished you would hang out too.

After he showered, sorted his laundry and cleaned his place, he made some spaghetti to share with his daughter. And right at six, you were knocking on his door. The sight that welcomed him made his heart leap into his throat. You had Bree in your arms, and two of the most beautiful faces he'd ever seen smiled at him. 

"Daddy!" Bree cried, pushing out of your arms and into his. Bradley held his daughter and planted kisses all over her face.

"I missed you, kiddo," he whispered into her hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He smiled at you as he held Bree and gestured for you to come inside. You closed the door behind you, and Bradley really got a good look at what you were wearing. Tight, long sleeve cream shirt tucked into a short pleated skirt with high heels. You looked hot. And instantly he knew you were going on a date tonight. 

"You look pretty," he told you, still hugging Bree. "You have a date?"

"Uh, thanks," you told him with a half smile. "Yeah, a guy from work."

Bradley took that to mean rich, good looking doctor, and instantly wanted to run him over with his Bronco. 

"Well, he has good taste," Bradley said before carrying Bree into the kitchen. He didn't want to know how good you fucking looked when you were going out with someone else. "You hungry, kiddo? I made spaghetti for us. And I have garlic bread with the crust cut off. You can eat the yummy part, and I'll eat the horrible crust. Sound good?"

"Yes!" she cheered as Bradley set her down at the table with a plate of food and a cup of milk. 

"You're welcome to stay too," he told you with a smile. "I'd love it if you had time to hang out for a while." Because why not just punish himself by pining away in your presence for a few minutes more?

Bradley watched you check the time on his microwave. You kind of nodded your head as you said, "Yeah, just a few minutes though."

"Want some spaghetti?" he asked you as he made up a plate for himself.

"It's good, mommy!" Bree announced, so of course you said yes to a small plate.

Bradley tried his best to act normal while he sat and ate dinner with the two of you, but he couldn't keep the hopeful feeling out of his chest. This was the life he wished he could come home to after a deployment. This is what he wished he could have all the time. You were taking a bite of spaghetti and covering your mouth to laugh at Bree who dropped a meatball on the kitchen floor. 

"Oop," she said, eyes wide, but Bradley kissed her on the forehead and knelt down to pick it up with a napkin. 

"No big deal, kiddo," he promised, and he met your eyes as he stood up to throw it away.

You smiled at him and kind of rolled your eyes as you said, "She really missed you. We both did."

Bradley sat down and looked at you across the table. "You both did?"

"Of course. Raising her alone is hard work. I love it when you're in town."

"Yeah," he sighed, pushing some pasta around on his plate. "But see, here's the thing... I actually miss you when I'm away." Peeking up from his plate, he found you were looking at him.

Your brow scrunched as you asked him, "Are you serious right now?"

Bradley didn't know why he said that to you. He opened his mouth to try to laugh it off, but he watched in horror as Bree sent another meatball careening across the table. This one was headed directly for you and your pretty cream colored outfit.

Bradley reached for it, but he was too late. He watched the meatball roll into your lap after splattering sauce on your shirt.

Always the calm presence, you barely reacted to the situation, other than to scoop the meatball from your lap with your napkin and sigh deeply. "Bree, do not play with your food, okay? Finish up so you can get to bed."

Bradley was on his way to the sink, wetting a bunch of paper towels. "Here, let me help." Bradley pulled you to your feet and tried to clean your outfit, but it was probably destroyed.

"It's okay. I can tell Bree's overtired. It's not really her fault," you said softly as he got to his knees and scrubbed your skirt. He could feel the warmth from your body as he slid his hand behind the fabric, and he had to fight the urge to run his fingers along your thighs. A few years ago, he had been able to make you moan his name, and he could think of nothing else at the moment.

Gazing up at you from the floor, he found you were already giving him a curious look. "I don't think it's going to come out," he whispered with a wince.

You chuckled sarcastically. "It's okay, Bradley. Dating when you're a single mom is impossible, and this is just one example why."

Bree hopped down from her seat and hugged Bradley where he knelt on the floor. She looked up at you as well and, "I'm sorry, mommy."

"I'm not mad, baby. How about you get ready for bed?"

Bradley picked up Bree and stood. "Let's get your pajamas on, kiddo. And I'll pull out something mommy can change into as well." He carried his daughter into his bedroom, peppering her face with kisses and making her giggle uncontrollably. He left a clean tee shirt and some sweatpants with a drawstring on his bed and told you to change if you wanted to. Then he took Bree into her bedroom and got her changed for bed. 

"I love you," he whispered to her as he tucked her in bed. "I'll take you to the zoo tomorrow, and we can go out for lunch. How does that sound?"

"Good. Love you, daddy," she said with a yawn, and by the time she rolled onto her side, her breathing was already soft and even as she fell asleep. Bradley stood next to the bed and watched her for a few minutes before switching on her unicorn nightlight and pulling the door until it was only open a tiny crack. 

When he walked back into this living room, Bradley froze at the sight of you sitting on the couch. You had changed into his clothing and made yourself comfortable like you intended to stay. You were typing on your phone, all snuggled back into the cushions with your feet curled up. He saw that your toenails were painted purple, and he immediately wanted to undress you again. 

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice raspier than usual. 

You looked up from your phone, eyes wide with a faint smile. "Yeah, I just texted Melvin and told him tonight isn't going to work out."

Bradley hoped that meant you would stay for a bit. "Wait. His name is Melvin?"

You rolled your eyes. "Your name is Brad Brad! I don't think you should be making fun of anyone else!"

"Melvin? Jesus, honey, how old is this guy?" Bradley asked, grinning as he sat down next to you. 

"Stop it," you said with a laugh. "He's just a little bit older than me."

"No, no, no. I'm just a little bit older than you," Bradley said, draping his arm across the back of the couch and leaning toward you. 

You pouted and rolled your eyes again. "He's thirteen years older than me. He's divorced, and his kids are grown. I like him. He's sweet."

Bradley let his eyes roam all over your face. He loved your face. Your eyes were bright, and you had pouty lips and a little scar next to your nose. He licked his lips and whispered, "You used to think I was sweet."

You stared at him, lips parted and a contemplative look on your face. "You were sweet. The sweetest."

Bradley's heart was racing. He ran his fingers through his hair. You were here, on his couch, seemingly willing to talk about things. He wanted to know why he wasn't with you now. "What happened to us?"

"Bree happened to us." 

He shook his head. "No. That's not it. Because I still wanted to be with you." His voice grew softer as he added, "But you changed your mind."

"Bradley, we were just long-term messing around. We weren't even together," you said, but now you wouldn't meet his eyes.

"We should have been. And that's my fault. I'm paying for it now..."

You turned fully toward him on the couch and sat up on your knees. "Bradley.... being willing to marry someone and wanting to marry someone are two completely different things. I didn't want to hold you back, so I ended it."

He huffed out a breath and ran his fingers along your jaw. Your eyes fluttered closed, your long lashes brushing against your cheek. "I was so stupid. I should have given us more time together before I offered to marry you. I know you don't want me now, but I wish you did."

You moaned and pressed your face into his palm. "Oh, Bradley." It was barely a whisper, but his entire body heard it, responded to it. You opened your eyes, and he gently pulled you toward him. At first you seemed surprised, so he paused, and then your arms went around his neck and your fingers sunk into his hair. 

"Honey, please," he whispered, and your lips were on his. You moaned into his mouth and straddled his thighs, and Bradley held you tight. Your lips met his in sweet and heated kisses. It felt like no time had passed since you had been doing this together every day. The past few years without you seemed like a waste of time now, and Bradley never wanted you and Bree to leave. 

"We were so good together," he mumbled, his lips brushing yours with every word. But his memory didn't do you justice. Holding you was better than he had remembered. Kissing you was the best thing he had ever felt. 

You pulled away from his lips, and Bradley was ready to beg you for more. But you laced your fingers with his and guided his hand around your waist and under the tee shirt, before letting go and returning your hand to his hair. 

Bradley watched the expression on your face as he gently moved his fingers up your side, teasing your soft skin as he went. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, and soon his fingers were ghosting over your lace covered breast. 

"You wore something sexy for Melvin," he growled, pulling you tighter to him, posessively.

You giggled. The sound both warmed his heart and infuriated him. "No," you whispered, placing a kiss on his neck. "I wore something sexy for me. Being a mom is hard, and I wanted to feel good tonight. Melvin wasn't going to see it."

"He better never see it," Bradley grunted as he squeezed your breast. You tipped your head back and rocked your core against him, and Bradley had to bite his lip. "Oh, honey. Please tell me I'm allowed to see it."

He watched you inch his shirt up over your belly until he could see creamy colored lace and the round globes of your tits. You were curvier now that you'd had Bree, and Bradley was practically salivating as you tossed the shirt to the floor.

"Fuck," he whispered, running his palms along the lace and making you whine his name. Bradley was hard as a rock now, and you kept rolling your hips against his, your voice shaking as you spoke.

"Bradley, if we do this, things are going to get messy." Your voice was pleading with him, but your hand was reaching for the zipper of his jeans. 

"I've always wanted a messier life," he replied, nipping at your jaw and neck as you reached your hand inside his pants and grabbed his dick. He hissed in a breath, trying to keep himself thinking straight. 

"I'm serious," you told him, squeezing him before stroking your thumb along his length. "I want you, but I don't want to make anything harder for Bree."

Bradley stood with you in his arms, and you squeaked before wrapping yourself tighter around his neck and waist. "I'm taking you to bed. I don't want anything to be harder for you or Bree either, but honey, I think I need you."

You moaned against his neck as he carefully walked down the dark hallway. "You need me? Physically?"

Everything you said was going to his head and making him dizzy, but at least he knew how to answer that. "No, I want you physically. But I need you."

When he set you down on his bed, you pulled him on top of you and let him settle between your thighs. He reached underneath you and took your bra off, and he had to bite his knuckle to keep himself under control.

"You missed me," you muttered, looking up at him, watching him as he lowered his mouth to your chest. You cried out his name as he licked and sucked on you. 

"I missed you so much." Bradley yanked the sweatpants down your hips, and when he found cream colored underwear that matched your bra, he kissed you through the fabric, burying his face against you. 

When you ground up into his face, he yanked your underwear off as well and started licking your soaking pussy. You were so wet, and he already knew how good you tasted. It was like he had been starving and finally got the only thing he wanted.

You were whining in earnest now, your voice seemingly unable to form words as he licked you and sucked on your clit. When you told him you were close, he fucked you slowly with two fingers until you were practically begging.

"Bradley." You grabbed him by his hair and pulled him up to lick the seam of his lips and his mustache, tasting yourself all over his face. "I want you to fuck me."

He gasped for air, his dick already getting wet, gliding against your pussy. "Honey... I don't have any condoms."

Your whine was loud and desperate. "I didn't bring any either. But I'm on the pill now."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm. Please?"

He pushed himself inside you and it felt too good. "I'm not about to get you pregnant again until we are officially together," he whispered against your neck once he was fully seated and thrusting. 

You and he moved with each thrust in a dance that the two of you were very familiar with. The give and take was something Bradley knew by heart and had been missing for far too long. You held his face and kissed his lips, and his hands worked all over your body, delighted at the chance to memorize you again. 

When you rolled him over onto his back and rode him, Bradley got to feel your curves from this new angle. "You're fucking gorgeous. You feel better than ever," he whispered, caressing your thighs and belly and palming your tits. 

You were getting loud now as you bounced on him, and Bradley pulled your mouth down to his so you wouldn't wake up Bree. Your kisses and moans of pleasure had him so close to the edge. And then you did that little thing, that twist of your hips, that he used to love so much. 

He grunted, feeling the beginning of his orgasm as you swirled your hips one more time. Your pussy squeezed him as you came, and Bradley let himself cum inside you as you rode him. Then he stayed inside you until he was soft and you were breathing normally. 

Bradley reached up and pulled you gently down until your cheek was resting against his chest. He played with your hair and kissed your forehead for a bit, trying to work up the nerve to ask you for what he wanted. Finally, when you started shifting like you were going to get up, he asked, "Will you sleep over?"

You turned your chin to look at his face and kissed his lips. "Yes."

------------------------------------------

Bradley woke up to you snuggled against him with your back pressed to his front. "Morning," you whispered into the silent room as soon as he started shifting his legs.

"Morning, honey," he whispered against your ear before kissing your neck. When you didn't move, he wrapped his arm tighter around you and held you longer. 

Finally you sighed. "Bree will be waking up soon. Do you think I should leave?"

"What? No! I want to make breakfast for both of you."

"But she might get confused if she finds me here, wearing your clothing and eating with you."

Bradley was silent for a beat. "What if we make it a regular thing?"

"What?" you asked, turning to face him with confusion on your face. 

Now Bradley held you so your breasts were pressed against his chest. He pushed your hair back from your face and kissed your nose. "Let's make it a regular thing. Let's make it real, honey. I wanna put a title on it. I want you to go to work on Monday and tell Melvin that things just aren't going to work out with him."

You giggled, and Bradley felt his face break out into a smile as you said, "Things were never going to work out with Melvin. Things were never going to work out with anyone I dated. Because they weren't you."

Bradley rolled you onto your back and kissed you hard, climbing on top of you. "Just say the words, honey. Say them, and I'm yours and Bree's, for real this time. We can all be together." 

You nodded up at him, smiled and said, "I love you."

Bradley felt like he got the wind knocked out of him. Those actually weren't the words he was hoping for. They were even better. 

"Yeah, those words will do," he told you, kissing you hard again. "I love you, too. You and Bree. Both of you."

You and Bradley managed to get dressed and make it to the kitchen before your daughter came stumbling out in her pajamas whining that she was hungry. She didn't question why both of her parents were eating eggs and toast with her at her dad's house. And she didn't question why both parents took her to the zoo and out for pizza. She didn't even question why they were holding hands and kissing each other. 

But when you both tucked her into bed, she asked, "Can all three of us play together again tomorrow? I liked it."

Bradley kissed Bree's forehead and then wrapped his arm around your waist. "Yeah, kiddo. I liked it too. How about we do that all the time?" he asked both of his girls.

Bree nodded and rolled onto her side, exhausted from the fun day. You nodded and pulled him out into the hallway, kissing him on the way to bed. 

---------------------------------------

Hope you guys liked this one! It was a little different, but I thought it turned out to be pretty special!

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[swampstew]

Ok so I am basing this ask off this post:

https://www.tumblr.com/stuckinthewrongworld/754204449503870976?source=share

Could you do this with Law, Kid, and/ or Zoro please? You guys have some fun, but have to go your separate ways for a little bit, but end up in the same place again just a few months later. You've been so busy, you haven't noticed the changes to your body, only that you're more tired, but you think it's just because of everything you've had to accomplish. But he notices right away, because he remembered every little detail about you. Maybe your shirt lifts up and he notices? Or you have a tight fitting shirt on? Idk I'm so in love with this concept I NEED to read it!

-🐍

Hebi the way I had to be on life support for this....the way my uterus was like ok time to be a problem since my womb is empty from this...I could only knock out (HAHAHAHAHA) one for Kid but I plan to repost it along with Law and Zoro's POVs at a later time. Brain only light up for Punk tonight.

Summary: You have a casual relationship with Eustass Kid, a here and there type of thing. At least that's how it felt on your end. You didn't know he felt about you, the way he sees you, the way he wants you. No matter what. No bumps in the road can sway him. CW: Eustass Kid x F Reader, accidental pregnancy scenario - something short and sweet based off this post | no actual smut, all fluff and tenderness from someone so brash and violent

Kid clocks it right away. He’s so eager when he sees you, finding you on the dock instantly, and the first thing he notices are the dark circles under your eyes and your breasts look particularly perky in your top. He makes himself known, to your surprise, pulling you into a giant hug and asks you if you’re ok.

You tell him you’re just tired from work and your social battery was pretty much drained all the time, but you are happy to see him again. His hand traces your sallow cheeks as you tell him what you’ve been up to before he decides he’s going to carry you to the nearest food stall to get you both something to eat. He holds you while you hold the bags of food, cradled against his muscular chest as he takes long, impatient strides to your home. He’s going to get to the bottom of this and he wants to do it without his crew hovering.

He tells you about his adventures while you eat, if it can be called eating since you a few bites before you looked queasy, abandoning your plate and drinking ginger ale instead. Kid pushes his plate away and brings you to your feet, bringing you to his chest as he his hands gently caress your hips.

“I’ve been gone for a while now. Has anything happened?”

“Hm? Aside from taking on more work to pass the time, not really.”

“Nothing at all? Its been three months since we saw each other.”

“What are you getting at?” you ask irately, not liking the implication of his question.

Kid turns your body so your back is resting against his torso, metal hand holding you in place while his flesh fingers spread across your lower belly. The slow strokes made goosebumps erupt along your soft skin.

“You definitely didn’t have this last time…”

“ARE YOU CALLING ME F—?!” your yell is cut off as he covered your mouth.

“Y/N! Do the math!”

When your body starts trembling, he knows you made the connection and swiftly picks you up and takes you to your bed. Waiting to see if you would start the conversation.

“We never talked about an accident like this,” you whisper.

“No, so what are we going to do?”

“We?”

“Well…yeah. Unless you don’t want me involved…”

“I-I think I want too…but…sigh…I wouldn’t expect you to stay,” you whisper.

“You’re right I wouldn’t” he snorts, “Cause I’m taking you with me, idiot. No way in hell I’m letting you do this alone.”