#for fun and to distract me until the painkillers kick in

[bucksfucks]

  𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙗𝙤𝙮 ; 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀

summary┃you’ve always called steve the golden boy, but he snaps one night and decides to show you he’s anything but.

pairing┃roommate!steve x f!reader

word count┃2,382 words

warnings┃hangover, drinking, tipsy sex, pining, teasing, makeout session, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, steve doesn’t think he’ll fit but he makes it, use of toys (vibrator), mocking, edging, hair pulling kink, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, steve finishes on readers back, steve is lowkey a fuckboy — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes┃presidential alert 🚨 the girls, gays, and the they’s are horny

     The shower was already running when you had walked out of your room and into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

    It was Saturday morning and despite your best efforts, your body never let you sleep in last nine in the morning.

    You may as well start your day at 8:48 am.

    Steve had gone out last night, but you remember the door shutting at three in the morning and a faint shhh falling from his lips as he spoke to whatever inanimate object was making noise.

    In your sleepy daze, you didn’t really mind. Instead, turning your pillow onto the cool side and drifting back to sleep.

    The kettle was boiling and the bread was getting warmed in the toaster when the shower finally stopped running.

    It was a little unusual for Steve to shower for so long, even after his morning runs or workouts, he’d never need more than 10 minutes.

    When the door opened, and a groaning Steve emerged, you knew exactly what the problem was.

    “Mornin’, Golden Boy,” he didn’t even have the energy to grimace at the sound of his nickname.

    His bare feel pattered against the wooden floor until he dropped his large body in one of the bar stools.

    “Someone had a fun night.” You mumbled with a small smirk as you slid him a cup of coffee which is took between his fingers.

    “I don’t know how Sam and Bucky roped me into shots,” he said into the cup of coffee as he took a cautious sip.

    You just rolled your eyes playfully and plated the toast that had popped out a few seconds earlier, slabbing a large helping of butter before adding honey and sliding the plate over to him.

    “Eat.”

    He groaned again, but put the coffee down in place for the sweet honey toast.

    “I can’t drink like I used to, I think I’m dying,” he was being dramatic, a playful glimmer in his eyes as he took a bite and hummed.

    “You’re 27, Rogers. I think someone’s being a little dramatic,” you teased with a smile.

    You are your breakfasts in silence for the most part, the painkiller Steve had taken not yet kicking in until both of your plates were cleared.

    “Did you get lucky last night?” You asked with raised eyebrows as you both placed your plates in the sink.

    Steve just laughed, “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

    You had to admit that your heart dropped, the same twinge of jealously starting to bloom in your chest as you imagined him with someone else.

    “Proud of you, Golden Boy.” You fake cheered, biting your tongue and swallowing your pride.

    Above everything, Steve was your friend and he deserved to get laid.

    He laughed, “you should’ve come, Bucky couldn’t stop asking about you.”

    You rolled your eyes again, slightly in annoyance.

    “He knows I’ll never sleep with him,” you sang song, helping Steve dry the dishes as the sink stopped running.

    “You never told me why, you know that?” You scoffed, “and for good reason.”

    The reason was simple; you didn’t want Bucky, but instead his best friend and your roommate, Steve.

    “I’ll get it out of ya one day, sweetheart.” Steve chuckled and you felt your heart sink a little further, “whatever helps you sleep at night.”

    The rest of the day was uneventful, nothing to do on a rainy New York day other than read as Steve fiddled with his sketchbook while an old sitcom played on the television.

    Steve’s hangover either disappeared or he was great at hiding it, whatever it was, he was humming along to the show tune.

    “Pizza and beers for dinner?” Steve asked as he was putting the final touches on his sketch making you laugh.

    “What happened to I can’t drink like I used to?” You said, echoing his words from the morning as he shrugged.

    “It’s a lazy day essential, now what toppings, and don’t say pineapple.” You acted shocked, mouth twitching into a smile.

    “You don’t know anything about good pizza,” you huffed as he tore his eye away from his sketchbook to look at you.

    “Pineapple on pizza is a crime, sweetheart. Now if that’s who you are I can’t judge, but I’m jus’ sayin’,” he said raising his hands in mock defeat.

    “Whatever Golden Boy, just say you’re a vanilla type of guy,” you winked, standing up to put your book on the shelf as the sun began setting to cast yellow and orange hues over the apartment.

    Steve snickered, “whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

    The low timbre of his voice, your own words echoed from this morning sends a shudder down your spine as he grabs his phone.

    “The usual?” You manage to nod your head, smiling as you try to distract yourself from the sudden and very evident ache between your thighs.

    30 minutes later and the pizza was here, still hot and greasy as Steve set it on the wooden coffee table as you grabbed two beers, scratch that, four beers.

    “Cheers, Golden Boy,” you offered with a soft smile as you both clinked your bottle necks against each other before pizza was being devoured.

    You didn’t know what it was, but cheap greasy pizza and a cold beer always soothed the soul. No matter how heartbroken you had ever been, or upset at the universe, beer and pizza were always there for you.

    As the hours went by, the bottles emptied and the pizza slices disappeared before you and Steve were sat on the couch laughing and giggling at the time Steve locked himself out in nothing but his underwear.

    “And where were you to rescue me!” He bellowed, throwing his head back at the memory.

    “I was in the shower, you know I blare music. I’m sorry Stevie, I promise the next time you’re locked out and naked I’ll rescue you.”

    He shook his head, “well I wasn’t naked.”

    You felt a little dizzy, body lighter as you finished off the second beer. You weren’t drunk, but loose enough to rest your head against Steve’s shoulder.

    His phone buzzed then, grabbing it off the table as Bucky’s name lit up across the screen.

    Steve ignored it.

    “He’s jus’ gonna ask me to go out again,” he said before you could ask, seemingly reading your mind.

    “Plus, I’m perfectly content right here,” he smiled, finishing off his second beer as you playfully rolled your eyes.

    “You’re such a sap,” you teased, “that a bad thing?” He asked and you felt the air around you grow more tense.

    “‘Course not, you’re just Stevie,” you tried to explain as he furrowed his eyebrows.

    “Stevie?” He asked as you sat up and crossed your legs under your body.

    “Yeah, you know,” you tried to find the words, “Golden Boy.”

    He hums in response, “golden as in pure?”

    You nod your head, “pure, sweet, innocent.”

    You weren’t sure if you had struck a nerve, but Steve smirked as he leaned into you.

    “‘M not so innocent, sweetheart. Not everything is as it seems.” His voice was much lower, raspier as you could smell the beer on his breath.

    “Is that so?” Your voice was just a little above a whisper, heart racing in your chest.

    “I could even show you, sweetheart, but you gotta answer one question first. Sound fair?” He asked.

    You nodded your head slowly, eagerly awaiting his question.

    His hands fell to your knees, sliding up until he pulled you into his lap.

    You looked up at him, craning your head only slightly as he craned his at you. He was warm, and broad.

    “Why,” his voice was low, “won’t you hookup with Bucky, sweetheart?”

    Your breath hitched, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you ran your hands up his chest until they rested on his shoulders.

    “I think you know,” you whispered as he shook his head and chuckled.

    “Uh uh, I wanna hear you say it.” He purred, brushing his nose against yours.

    Your eyes fluttered shut as you smelt his oaky, but sweet body wash. Something like bergamot and oranges.

    He squeezed your hips, a soft moan falling from your lips at the sensation.

    “It’s because,” you swallowed thickly, “because I want you, Stevie.”

    He hummed, hand on the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours.

    You kissed back, the realization hitting you it became hotter and more desperate as you slid your tongue past Steve’s lips.

    “All you needed to do was say those words and you could’ve had me all to yourself.” He smirks against your lips making you whimper.

    His fingers are digging into your ass, rocking your hips over his. It’s the right amount of friction to have you melting into his touch.

    When he picks you up, carrying you into his room to toss you onto his bed, you know you’ve made the wrong assumption about him.

    “Now there’s nothin’ wrong with a man who likes vanilla,” he hums, hands exploring your body.

    “But I’m a man who prefers a little more,” he meets your eyes, a devilish smirk and twinkle in his eyes, “flavour.”

    He’s hovering over you, lips on your neck and jaw as his hips rut over yours.

    “Go get that goddamn vibrator of yours,” he breathes as you look at him bewildered.

    “You know that one, you like the third setting the most on it.” He winks standing up as your eyes trace along his body and to where his cock is straining.

    “Go on, don’t sit there actin’ all dumb,” you spring to your feet, tripping over them as you quickly fetch it from your room.

    “Good girl, lie back down on the bed, but get naked first.” He instructs you sternly.

    You’d never had anyone tell you to strip, let alone have someone eyes so focused on you as you place the vibrator in his larger hand.

    Starting with your sweater, you tear it off—chest exposed as Steve licks his lips.

    “Go on, don’t be shy. You’re makin’ him real happy,” he smirks, squeezing his dick through his pants.

    You tug your leggings down until you’re in your panties and Steve is giving you a look that tells you to continue.

    It’s a thrill, stripping for him and watching his cock twitch at the sight of your curves, dips, and the marks you hate.

    “Look at you,” he groans, “perfect little thing aren’t ya? Now I gotta be honest,” you swallow thickly.

    “‘M not sure if he’ll fit like I planned, but we’ll make sure to get you warmed up,” he says before placing your hand over his dick.

    It causes goosebumps to prickle your skin as he pushes you down onto the bed fully naked now.

    “Now this,” he says, holding your vibrator, “isn’t even gonna compare to me by the time I’m done with you.”

    It’s a promise that you know Steve will keep as he kneels between your legs.

    “I expect you to keep these open, okay? Unless of course,” his cocky attitude breaks through, “you’re squeezin’ my head when you cum.”

    You can’t even chide back, all thoughts gone at the sound of the click of your vibrator.

    Steve wastes no time, spreading your folds and exploring you with his tongue before he connects the silicone tip to your clit.

    It causes your body to jolt and Steve has to keep your legs open.

    “What did I say, sweetheart. Keep ‘em open,” he reminds you as he slips a single fingers in you.

    It’s already ten times better than your own, longer and thicker as they curl against your sweet spot.

    Your walls squeeze him, fluttering as you grip onto his unmade bed sheets.

    He teased you, edging you until you’re begging him to let you come with a dry throat.

    “Steve, c’mon. ‘S’not fair,” you whine, tugging at his hair. He groans, hips rutting into the bed and you know you’ve found his weakness.

    Two can play at this game.

    You tug at his hair again, “please, Stevie? Wanna cum so fuckin’ bad—all over your face.”

    He groans vibrator tossed on the bed as his mouth wraps around your clit, “fuck, baby.”

    It’s a lewd sound, your wetness against his fingers and mouth, but it’s enough to send you over the edge.

    “Make a mess, sweetheart. Gotta taste ya,” he groans against your core as you’re nearly suffocating him.

    It’s intense, washing over you like a wave followed by a series of smaller ones until he’s flipping you over and your ass is in the air.

    “Not so fuckin’ vanilla anymore, huh?” He slaps your ass, a squeak leaving your lips.

    “Gonna have the taste of you on my mind for days now, practically have me pussy whipped already.”

    His clothes are gone, all necessary ones before he’s bending his body over yours, “grip onto the headboard baby, you’ll need all the support you can get.”

    And he’s not wrong, sliding into you and stretching you out as you wrap yourself fingers around the wood until he’s fully seated inside of you.

    It’s a new fullness, one that you’ve never experienced and something you never want to forget.

    “Bounce, baby.” He then says, as you look over your shoulder.

    “Ride me, use the headboard and make yourself cum.” He smirks, slick coating both of your thighs.

    Everything is new to you as Steve lets you take control, yet, you’re never truly in control.

    “That’s it baby, such a good girl. Look how desperate you are to cum,” he taunts making you whimper.

    He joins in soon, meeting your thrusts with his own until you’re both grunting and he can’t hold back.

    “Fuck, fuck, gonna cum.” He hissed, quickly pulling out to paint your back as he rubs your clit with his free hand and you feel the white hot explosion of pleasure for the second time that night.

    You’ve both made a mess by the time you’re done, Steve cleaning you up with his boxers as you’re collapsing beside him still trying to catch your breath.

    “You’ve ruined my vibrator for me,” you chuckled breathlessly as he turns to you with a smirk, “well it’s a good thing I’m your roommate then.”

[mizunetzu]

I just skipped school and binge read all of your fanfics- They’re really good gRRRRrrr 🥺🥺 Keep up the good work!! That being said- Can I request a fluffy Hawks x male reader where the reader has a cold and is stuck in bed and Hawks takes care of him? Thank you vv much!!!

HAHHAHA WHY IS ALL MY HAWKS REQUESTS ALWAYS FLUFF (I mean ur like my second one but it’s still flufF) (and not that this wasn’t fun to write cuz it was HAAHA I’m lowkey proud)

(Also gRRRRur so nice but GO TO SCHOOL >:( BARK BARKK BAEKR)

——————

Hawks x reader - The Sick Fic

⚠️warnings - it’s as the title says. It’s the sick fic.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

(Y/n) coughed up sticky red blood.

“Y-yeah, no. I don’t think I can patrol today, Yusha-san. The villain from yesterday activated their quirk on me-and I’m feeling a bit sick.”

Yusha, the secretary to the (L/n) hero agency, typed something down on his computer. “Is it something we should be concerned about?”

“No.” (Y/n) croaked out with a chuckle. “Their quirk isn’t really dangerous, but it did make me a bit sick. It’ll pass, don’t worry.”

“Ok. I’ll send in one of your sidekicks to patrol with Hawks-san today.” More typing from across the phone. (Y/n) pursed his lips.

“U-uh,”

“Don’t worry. I’m sending a male sidekick.” Yusha practically read his mind. (Y/n) didn’t want any stupid girls hitting on his stupid, popular, pro-hero patrol buddy boyfriend.

“Thank you, Yusha-san.”

“It’s nothing. Get some rest, (H/n). We expect you to show up tomorrow.” Yusha ended up before (Y/n) could even say goodbye. He lazily dropped his phone onto his bedside table, burying himself under his bedsheets as best as he could. Just as he was getting comfy, the urge to cough up more blood kicked him in the stomach.

He flung himself over his bed, practically shoving his head into the small waste bin under his bedside table. He wiped his mouth with his forearm after hacking up more blood, his head suddenly feeling hazy and jumbled.

He groaned, and got under the bedsheets once more. The world seemed to be against him today, as another distraction forced him out from his beauty sleep.

His phone buzzed once. Twice. Then the annoying, overlapping ring of multiple messages being spammed buzzed out his phone, making (Y/n) cover his ears with his pillow.

Annoyed, he patted around the side table til’ his hand landed on his phone, pulling it towards him and under the sheets.

‘Keigo 🍗 - where r u :(‘

‘Keigo 🍗 - who’s this...rando dude patrolling wit me :(((‘

‘Keigo 🍗 - r u asleep or smth’

‘Keigo 🍗 - wake up ur late to patrol and I need my yakitori addiction funded today’

‘Keigo 🍗 - DUDE’

‘Keigo 🍗 - BBBBBBBBBB’

‘Keigo 🍗 - IM NOT GONNA STOP SPAMMING U TILL U ANSWER ME OR SHOW UP AN PATROL WITH ME >:(((‘

(Y/n) sighed. He opened the messages, meaning that Keigo would get the ‘message read’ notification, but he couldn’t care less. Tossing the phone lazily on the table, he muted the messages app.

———

(Y/n) stirred in his sleep when he heard tapping on his bedroom window. (Y/n) opened his sticky eyes, barely open enough to see a blurry red object tapping against the glass frame. Eventually, the object halted, gave up, and swooped down and out of sight. He shrugged.

Just as he closed his eyes, more pelting came from the window, this time louder and heavier. (Y/n) snapped his eyes open, flinging himself out of bed, and getting ready to activate his quirk.

He visibly relaxed when he saw the huge red wings tapping outside the window, with a certain hero crouching down, looking at him sheepishly and trying to pick open the window lock. The man waved with an embarrassed smile, his feathers following suit.

“Keigo Takami. What the fuck are you doing in my house.”

The man, Keigo Takami, chuckled awkwardly while (y/n) undid the clasps on his window. He stepped back, allowing him to worm his way in through the small window.

Keigo paused, half way squeezed in with his wings stuck in the cramped window frame. He was stuck. “Y...you need to buy a bigger window-“

“Are you dumb?” (Y/n) chuckled, the sight of Pro Hero Hawks, man who could pull absolute pussy, bent over his bedroom window, stuck with his wings awkwardly fluttering in place. “Just, I don’t know, send your feathers off until they’re small enough to fit you in.”

Keigo had a wave of realization. This man had no braincells whatsoever. “...oh, haha, you’re so smart~”

One by one, feathers jutted out from his back, each floating either inside (Y/n’s) room or outside the window. Once all of them were off, and his back were relatively empty, he tumbled ever-so-gracefully inside the room. He stood up, his wings rebuilding themselves in seconds, and did an awful curtsy.

“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all day to take care of my sick patrol partner who do happens to be my boyfriend,”

“Speaking of patrol -what happened to patrol? A-and the dude you should be patrolling with? You should be out by n-“

A sharp, piercing pain shot through (Y/n’s) head. Now that the adrenaline from Hawks pounding on his window was subsiding, he seemed to remember how much his head was hurting.

He fumbled down, catching himself on the foot of his bed while Keigo lurched forward. “You good?” He mumbled, taking off his black wool glove.

He rested the back of his palm on (Y/n’s) forehead, before signing uncontently and replacing his hand with his lips. Even if he was burning up, (Y/n) froze.

After a while, Keigo drew his head back. “You’re burning up...”

Silence. Hawks awkwardly chuckled and played it off by running his hand through his hair.

“Lips are more sensitive than hands are-so I was just...you need to get to bed!” Keigo quickly stood up, gently ushering the sick hero to his bed. Pulling up the thick-set covers, Keigo hazily tosses his jacket to the corner and discarded his other glove.

“Try and get some rest. Did that dude’s quirk from yesterday do this?” He got a nod in response. “Alright. I’m gonna go change and get you some shit.”

With that and a warm smile, Keigo disappeared through the bedroom door. (Y/n) followed him with his eyes, right before he was out of sight, then let his eyes droop close.

———

“Pssst.”

A finger poked at (Y/n’s) cheek. He grumbled, furrowing his brows and keeping his eyes screwed shut. He heard a sigh from somewhere above him.

Something feathery tickled him from underneath his nose. He scrunched his nose up, expecting the odd feeling to go away, before feeling a sneeze build up. The watery feeling course through his nose before his head shot up every-so-slightly to let out a weak “Achoo!”

Keigo snickered. (Y/n) finally opened his eyes. Keigo was sitting beside him, now in casual clothes, holding a convince store bag and a red feather. The feather flew out of his hand and stuck itself on his back.

“Sorry I was out for so long. You didn’t have jack shit in your house, so I bought some medicine and takeout since I know you won’t eat soup and I can’t cook.”

It was true. The only thing Pro Hero Hawks is allowed to do is heat up a hotdog, and even then he might break the microwave. And (Y/n) won’t eat soup he made if his life depended on it. If he can’t even turn on the stove, what makes you think that he’d drink a whole bowl of soup made by him and not die?

“Whad’ja get?” (Y/n’s) voice came out more gravely and deep than he expected. Under different circumstances, that would’ve been kinda hot. Keigo pulled out things one by one from the bag.

“Ok so, I got painkillers, a cooling pack, a heating pad just in case your stomach starts hurting, a thermometer, and I found these cool matching red bird keychains and I bought them on impulse. One for you and one for me~ I also bought 2 beef bowls”

Keigo layed all the items down either on the bed or on the table beside it, holding up the keychains last. Shaking them around a bit, turns out there was a small bell inside both of them. (Y/n) tried, and failed, to hide his growing smile.

Keigo placed the cooling pack on (Y/n’s) previously burning forehead. The sudden coldness forced an involuntary groan from the bed sick male. He chuckled.

“Sorry. Deal with that for awhile and I’ll feed you~” Hawks saddled up in the spot next to him, holding the two plastic bowls and worming his way underneath the covers. He placed the food down on his lap and switched on the tv.

They sat in silence, the only thing being the sounds of the tv filling the room with the occasional reaction or snicker from the two. Keigo alternated between shoveling a forkful of rice and beef into his mouth, then feeding his boyfriend and carefully making sure none spilled onto his bed. The news reporter droned on onscreen, their voice being tuned out by the two hero’s.

“By the way, Keigo,” (Y/n) started, once he swallowed his food. Keigo gave a hum of acknowledgment, holding up a finger to (y/n), then to his mouth until he finished chewing. Thickly swallowing, Keigo hummed again.

“You were supposed to patrol today. With one of my sidekicks. What happened to that?”

Keigo looked at (Y/n), before looking back at the tv so causally. For a while he said nothing, until he opened his mouth.

“I ditched.”

(Y/n) made a sputtering noise. His shock turned into a long string of hacks and coughs, which Keigo waited ever-so-patiently for him to calm down from. “You ditched?! Keigo, you’re the no. 2 hero! You can’t be caught ditching!”

“Relaaaaax,” Keigo leaned farther into the bed cushions. “I told my agency and your stupid sidekick man that I was gonna check on you. It was a valid excuse.”

“Still!” (Y/n) rubbed at his temples. Hawks shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth. “You’re sitting here watching tv with me instead of working!”

“I needed a break. Plus,” Keigo held up his unfinished bowl of food defensively.

“I can’t believe you.”

“I love you too~”

(Y/n) sighed.

“I hope you get sick.” Hawks chuckled, saying something about being immune to all sicknesses.

Needless to say, (y/n) was patrolling with one of Keigos sidekicks the next day.

——————

[candy-and-writing]

Mr. Brightside

Request by @mmmmm-11​: Can I request a Cap fic in which he's pretty cold to the reader because he really doesn't know how to process his feelings and there is some jealously their in feeling both sides and then the smut 😅🤩

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, fingering, jealous! Steve, Steve is low-key a dick

A/n: so this took way longer than I meant it to and it's also a lot longer than anticipated. Thank you so much for requesting this!! I had so much fun writing this piece

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Steve was silent as you sat in the back of the quinjet, your forehead bloody and uniform pulled down to your torso as Bruce tended to the bullet hole gaping in your shoulder. His shoulders were tense, his features drawn into a scowl as he glared at you, stewing in his own anger.

You knew you fucked up, if the blood seeping out of your shoulder and the burning building you barely escaped was any confirmation. Steve huffed, his hands slamming down on the table placed in the middle of the jet.

You had grown used to this—the sudden flip of his mood with you. Ever since you first joined, he was cold and angry with you. It didn't matter if all you did was try to make him happy, there was always something you did that made him annoyed with you. You had learned long ago how to hold yourself up against the angry super-soldier.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Steve suddenly shouted at you, his loud tone sending a dull throb through your temples. "I gave you an order, you could've blown the mission!"

"I was going after Strucker," you groaned, wincing as Bruce pressed a rag against your wound. "I didn't see the detonator. I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't gonna cut it, Y/n. You compromised the mission. You're lucky I cut him off or else you'd in a lot more trouble."

"I get it, Cap, I do, but can we talk about this later. . . when I'm not bleeding out?" Your vision was blurring and your body was feeling alarmingly numb.

"No, we're gonna talk about this now."

"Steve," Bruce cut in, "I think Y/n is right. Maybe we can talk about this when she feels better?"

Steve's jaw clenched. He was quiet for a moment, and you were worried he was going to explode on you again. He looked over his shoulder, where the rest of the team was watching, and sighed. "Fine."

You let out a breath as he walked to the front of the jet. You leaned back, resting your head on the wall as you closed your eyes.

-

You left Bruce's lab an hour after you landed, your bullet wound all but healed and given painkillers for your concussion. You were still a little dizzy as you wobbled back to your room when you ran into Steve. He was wearing a slim workout shirt that looked two sizes too small and dark sweatpants, probably heading to the gym. You straightened your shoulders, bracing yourself. He looked you over, scowling before he pushed past you.

You stood there for a moment, shocked he hadn't started screaming at you the second he saw you. You blinked, jogging after him. "Steve, wait!"

He stopped, looking down at you as you stood in front of him. You let out a breath, your world spinning.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I should've listened to you. I should've waited for backup and I didn't and it almost cost us Strucker. I'm sorry."

Steve didn't say anything. He looked at you, irritation gnawing at his features. He mumbled out a small, "It's fine," before turning away.

You bit the inside of your cheek to distract you from the pang in your chest. You should be used to it by now—his aloofness. That didn't mean it still didn't sting, though.

You had no idea what you did to make Captain America hate you. Hell, you didn't think he had the capability to hate anyone. When you first joined the team, scared and defensive, you were just there to follow orders—because Fury had not-so-subtly given you an ultimatum that threatened your life. You were good at what you did, you were good at following orders. You stood in the background and did what people told you to do. Being a HYDRA pawn will do that to you.

But then people opened up to you. Bucky was the first one—being the former Winter Soldier, he knew what it was like to have your life taken away by HYDRA. And for some reason, he trusted you, even if you hadn't spoken a word to him. Natasha and Clint were next, then Tony, and soon the whole team treated you like you were apart of their family. But Steve didn't. You'd been with the team for months, and you were no closer to him than you were to that automatic corkscrew in the kitchen that you could never get to work.

You showered, changed, and sat on your bed for exactly twenty seconds before you realized you were done. If Steve wasn't going to tell you what his problem was, maybe someone else could.

You walked into the lounge area, finding Bucky and Sam squabbling over the remote.

"C'mon, man," Sam argued. "I got a recorded episode of the Voice that is callin' my name!"

"Watch it in your room, Wilson. The Great British Baking Show is on and I'm already watching it."

You smirked to yourself, moving to stand in front of them until one of them finally noticed you. It was your best tactic with the two of them, waiting patiently until they were done with. . . whatever they were doing. You rested your hands at your sides, eyebrow quirking when Sam called Bucky's hair 'greasy', which highly offended Bucky.

Bucky had just pulled the remote out of Sam's hands when he finally saw you. "Oh, hey, doll. How long ya' been standing there?"

You shrugged. "Not important. . . can I talk to you?"

Bucky kicked Sam out of the lounge area, who dragged himself out of the room mumbling to himself about his show. You sat down beside Bucky, crossing your legs and folding your hands in your lap.

"So," Bucky ran a hand through his hair, " what did you want to talk about?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment, looking down at your hands as you asked the question that had been haunting you since you arrived at the Compound. "Why does Steve hate me?"

Bucky blinked, then started chuckling. You frowned.

"What?"

"You think—" he paused, sucking in a breath. "Well, I don't blame you. He hasn't exactly been kind to you, has he?"

You scoffed. "No, he hasn't. Did I do something? Is. . . is it because of what I used to do—you know—before this?"

"No, doll, it's not that. Trust me."

You weren't convinced. "Are you sure? Because—"

"Trust me, Y/n, I'm sure." Bucky smiled at you. A teasing smile, like he knew something you didn't.

"Well, can you tell me what's going on, then?" you sighed. "Because I'm getting a little tired of the cold shoulder."

Bucky pursed his lips, his eyes squinting slightly like he was thinking. You stared at him, waiting for his answer.

"You know the party Tony's throwing tomorrow?" Bucky said suddenly.

You frowned, not seeing what that had to do with the conversation. "Yeah. . . ?"

"All you have to do is show up. And wear something cute."

You raised an eyebrow, a smile breaking your lips amidst your confusion. "Don't I always, Soldat?"

--

You had managed to avoid Steve's austere glare until the party. You knew he would be there for professional appearances, being Captain America and all.

You had shuffled the dress up your body—the silky black fabric tickling your thigh. You stood in front of your mirror, back facing the glass as you struggled to turn your head at the right angle and tie the criss-cross strings racing down your back. This dress had been Natasha's, but had grown too small for her, so she gave it to you. She and Wanda did that with many of their clothes, seeing as how when you showed up at the Compound you had half a duffel bag of clothes to your name—all of which you'd stolen from different shops.

You had opted to leave your hair down, letting your locks fall past your shoulders in loose curls. You did your makeup in record time, finishing the look off with a red velvet lipstick.

Dragging your hair over one shoulder, you clipped the pearl choker necklace Tony had given you for Christmas around your neck, letting it rest on your collar. You weren't expecting anything from anyone for Christmas—you'd never even celebrated Christmas before coming onto the team. Tony's gifts were personal, whether they be deep and meaningful or jokingly hilarious. As he handed you a long, thin box, he had apologized—you were so quiet and reclusive he wasn't sure what you wanted, so he bought you this necklace. That was the first time you hugged Tony.

Slipping on a pair of sleek black heels, you looked yourself over in the mirror once more before leaving your room. You could hear the commotion of the party from your area of the living quarters, music echoing off the walls and people dressed in button-down shirts and fancy dresses.

As you stepped down the stairs, your eyes fell on Bucky, who was playing pool with Steve and Sam. Steve was smiling, laughing at something Sam had said as he sunk the ball into the corner pocket. You smiled to yourself, ignoring the pang of jealousy you felt in your chest. Why couldn't he smile like that at you?

Bucky had noticed you descending the stairs, perking up. He said something to Steve, walking off towards you. Steve frowned, his gaze following Bucky's path when his eyes landed on you. His shoulders stiffened and he shifted on his feet as looked back at Sam. You met Bucky in the middle of the room, giving him a small smile.

"Damn, doll," Bucky smirked. "You look good." You chuckled, cheeks heating up.

"Well," you looked down at your dress, "you said to wear something cute. What exactly do you have planned?"

"You'll see." He laughed at the scowl you gave him. He grabbed two cocktails from a wandering server, handing one to you. "Here—have a drink and come join us."

"Oh, no, I shouldn't. Steve looks like he's enjoying himself and. . . I'd hate to ruin his good mood." Your gaze turned sad without you even realized. Bucky wanted to smack Steve upside the head all over again—he was hurting you, alienating you and all you were trying to do was be a part of the team.

"You won't, trust me. Please? Sam keeps bragging about being the best pool player of his squadron and I'm having a hard time not punching him in his big mouth. It'd be nice to have someone around who isn't on their high-horse."

You giggled, struggling to take a sip of your drink. "Fine, but he starts chastising me, I'm out."

You followed Bucky back to the pool table, Steve glaring daggers at you and Bucky as the soldier picked up his cue stick.

-

You weren't sure how long you watched the boys play pool, but four drinks later you were tipsy and almost oblivious to Steve's lingering stare. Bucky knocked the eight ball into a corner pocket, yelling out a shout of victory as he won the game. Sam rolled his eyes.

Someone stood beside you and cleared their throat, prompting you to turn your head. Thor stood next to you, his hair pulled away from his face and donning a long red coat and dark wash jeans.

"Lady Y/n." He smiled at you, holding his hand out as you blushed. You always blushed when he called you that. "Would you care for a dance?"

"Uh—" You looked over at Bucky, who was smirking. He tilted his head, motioning for you to go. Your eyes wandered up at Steve, who looked like he was about ready to throttle Thor. He really did hate the idea of his team socializing with you. Smiling to yourself, you looked back at Thor. "Actually, I'd love to."

You walked off with Thor, stopping just before you left their line of sight. It was petty, what you were doing—using Thor to deliberately piss off your Captain. But he didn't leave you much of a choice. Thor rested his hand on your waist, his large fingers brushing against your bare back. You shivered, putting your hand on his shoulder. He held your other hand as you two swayed to the music.

"You look lovely tonight, Y/n," Thor said, looking down at you through his eyelashes. You thought your cheeks were warm from the alcohol, but after that comment, your face was burning. You were sure your cheeks were a bright red.

"Th-thank you," you stuttered. You cleared your throat. "You. . . uh—you look nice, too. I like your jacket."

Thor chuckled. "You do not have to be so nervous, Y/n. It is only a dance."

"Yeah, well, I've never really danced before. . . like actually danced. I've danced for missions before, but things never really ended well for my partner."

"Well, I do hope things end better for me."

You giggled. "Well, I haven't been hired to kill you, so I think you're good." You nervously laughed at your joke, hoping it wasn't as awkward as you thought it was.

You danced with Thor until he invited to get a drink with him. You sat at the bar, nursing a cocktail Natasha made for you while Thor was telling you about the time he battled a pack of trolls in the mountains of Svartalfheim.

When the party was over, you were still talking to Thor. You thanked him for dancing with you, making sure to tell Bucky goodnight. You walked up the staircase, heading toward your room when you stopped. Steve stood in front of your door, arms crossed and frowning.

"Steve?" He turned his head, meeting your confused gaze. "Can I. . . can I help you with something?"

"We need to talk," he said curtly.

"O-Okay." You were overtly aware of the click of your heels as you opened your door for him, letting him enter your room. You carefully let the door slide closed behind you, staring at Steve. "Do you want anything to drink? I can get you a glass of water? Or I think I still have some beer Bucky left in the fridge?"

That had been the wrong thing to say. You watched his eyes darken, lips curling into a snarl as he shoved you up against your wall. His grip on your biceps was borderline painful, his nose inches from yours and you could feel his hot breath fanning your face.

"Don't talk about Bucky. Not now."

You swallowed thickly, Steve watching the line of your throat. "Okay, I won't. I'm sorry."

You fell silent, stuck staring at Steve's features. The barely-there green in his eyes, the crease of his eyebrows, the lines of his frown, his lips. You didn't realize he was doing the same to you until his breathing calmed. You licked your lips nervously, Steve staring at the dart of your tongue. And then his lips were on yours.

You stood frozen—shocked—for only a moment before closing your eyes and moving your lips against his. He let go of your arms, letting you wrap them around his neck and pulling him closer, moaning into his mouth. His tongue darted into your mouth, kissing you like you've never been kissed until you were breathless and had to pull away.

Your lips were red and swollen, eyes closed as you rested your hands on Steve's chest, playing with a button on his shirt.

"Steve—"

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, voice husky. "I'm sorry I've been so mean to you. I just—I didn't know how to deal with my feelings about you."

"Shut up," you breathed. "And kiss me."

His lips crashed onto yours again, his hands on your hips as he pulled you closer into his body. The kiss was needy and possessive, the intensity of it almost frightening, the raw need and hunger behind his actions overwhelming you.

His mouth moved down your jaw, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck. You fumbled behind you, undoing your dress and letting it pool at your feet. He picked you up effortlessly and you wrapped your legs around his narrow waist, hands cupping his face. He tossed you down on your bed, ripping open his blue button-down and throwing it on the floor. He pulled the white undershirt over his head, dropping it with his shirt while you kicked off your heels.

He crawled up the bed, hovering over you as he leaned down to kiss you. Just a quick peck before he moved to kiss your collar bone, his hands roaming up your thighs. One hand reached under you and you arched your back, letting him unclip your bra and slide the straps off your shoulders. He kissed along the skin he exposed, pulling the fabric down past your breasts.

He mouthed at the soft swell of your chest, sucking a red mark into your skin. He pinched your nipple lightly, rolling it between his forefinger and thumb and you jumped, arching your back. You inhaled a sharp, shaky breath when Steve popped a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lapping over the bud and swirling it around.

He continued to work down your body, kissing lower and lower and sucking marks into your skin at random intervals. He sucked a bruise in the divot between your ribs, one above your belly button, and one just above your underwear. As he peeled your lace panties off your legs and dropped them on the floor, he kissed back up your leg, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your thigh.

You were panting, squirming as his lips met just shy of where you needed them most. You almost screamed when his tongue finally connected with your little bud. He used the tip of his tongue first, just circling your clit as you whined, his thick finger slipping into your center. He pumped his finger in and out of you leisurely, suckling at your bundle of nerves before he quickly added a second finger.

You continued this until you were right on the precipice of orgasm, and when his fingers curled and brushed against that spot inside of you, your moan broke in your throat. The taut rubber band in your stomach snapped, muscles spasming as your head fell back against your pillows, Steve licking up your mess.

Steve moved up your body and kissed you, your release coating his face and you could taste yourself on his tongue. His hands went to your hips and he suddenly flipped you so you were straddling his thighs. You deepened the kiss, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks as Steve adjusted his length to meet your center, letting you slide onto him at your own pace.

He was large. Thick and long and your tight heat clutched around him in a marvelous way and he wasn't even halfway in. Steve had broken the kiss, leaning back and his eyes fluttering shut as he marveled in the feel of you clutching him like a vice.

"Shit, sweetheart," he panted. "You feel so good."

You bottomed out, letting yourself adjust to his size before you rocked forward. You both moaned. Your clit rubbed against his pelvis as you rolled your hips harder, your hands falling to his chest for stability. His hands rested on your waist, letting you move as you desired.

"St—Steve," you whimpered, picking up your pace. The tip of his length hit a certain spot inside you and you gasped, your nails digging into his skin, his body moving in tandem with yours.

You were unbelievably close. Steve hugged you close to his chest, his lips meeting your breast as he mouthed at your nipple, groaning as he ran his hands up and down your sides. He worked his way up your neck, sucking your sensitive skin as he thrust his hips up into you and that was all it took before you were coming. You cried out his name, gasping and whimpering as your head fell into the crook of his neck.

"Fuck!" Steve groaned, thrusting several more times as your walls hugged him and he stiffened inside you, throwing his head back as he growled, his cock pulsating as he came.

Panting, he carefully laid you next to him, admiring your blissed-out gaze as he pulled your blankets over the two of you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You smiled at him, your lipstick smeared as you opened your eyes.

"So I guess this is what Bucky was talking about?" you asked, mostly to yourself.

"What do you mean?"

"I talk to Bucky yesterday after I ran into you, I thought he might know what was going on with you. He just kinda laughed at me and told me you didn't hate me. . . . Did he know? About how you felt?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, he did."

You chewed on your lip in thought. "He said he had a plan. That during the party—oh m.y God."

"What?"

"Thor. Thor was the plan." You looked up at Steve. "Bucky knew you would get jealous so he asked Thor to dance with me."

Steve laughed. "In my defense, Thor was getting way too handsy."

You giggled. "Remind me to make Bucky some cookies tomorrow."

Steve rolled over you, caging you in his arms as he grinned down at you. Your eyebrow arched playfully. He bent down and kissed you, your hands coming up to run along his pecs. He pulled away, his smile sparkling even in the darkness of your room. You swooned, knowing that his smile was something you would never tire of seeing.

"Sleep," Steve told you. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

[watermelonlipstick]

Blood

I was thinking it might be cute to do a little moment with Sam and Dean being sweet about getting your period. It doesn’t really matter when this would take place, but I mention Dean being 34, so I guess it’s around season 8! But I think they’d be like this pretty much anytime. 

Thanks so much for reading!! I’d love any advice or critiques if you have them.

Title: Blood

Pairing: Winchesters x Reader, mostly platonic

Word Count: 974

Summary: The reader gets her period on a hunt, so Sam and Dean try to help.

Warning: mention of periods, blood, etc

gif from bilosan!

“Dude, it’s just blood. Don’t act like such a fucking virgin.”

           “I’m not acting li—I’m not getting into this with you, Dean. Can you just ask her?”

           “It’s not rocket science, college boy. Leak, plug. What’s she going to illuminate?”

           “Give me the phone,” you said, yanking it out of Dean’s hand. “Yeah, Sam?”

           His voice was tinny over the burner’s line. “So I know you usually get the ones without applicators because they’re better for the environment but I’m not seeing any here. Do you have a second choice?”

           “Whichever box is the smallest; I don’t have a ton of room in my bag.”

           “Ah, okay, got it.” You heard the faint sound of cardboard sliding along a metal shelf. “Want anything else, while I’m out?”

           “Yeah, if they have scalpels grab a couple of those, you’re giving me a hysterectomy when you get back,” you groaned drily into the cell.

           “How about gummy worms and Tylenol?”

           It wasn’t hard to imagine Sam’s smile when you only grumbled in response.

           “I’ll be back in a minute. Hang in there babe,” he said, ending the call.

           Dean was standing at the sink in the motel bathroom, trying to flatten out a defiant cowlick he’d gotten from napping in the car earlier. A wave of pain-induced nausea hit you so fast you almost didn’t have time to yank the back of his shirt to switch places with him, slamming the door behind you as you threw up into the echoes of the dated avocado green toilet.

           “Christ, it’s really that bad?” Dean called, muffled through the cheap hollow particle board.

           When you caught a breath, you answered him sarcastically. “No, I just thought yakking might be fun.” You cleaned yourself up and brushed your teeth thoroughly before going out to meet him. “It’s not always this bad, obviously. I must have some extra good karma this month.”

           Dean winced in sympathy from his new post, sitting against the headboard with his legs crossed over the length of one of the motel’s double beds. “Well, I’m sorry kid. Come here.” He patted the mattress next to himself, and you crawled in next to him to curl into the fetal position with your head on his chest. Dean wrapped an arm around you to rub firm circles into the taut-rope muscles of your lower back. The pressure helped and whatever syndicated show he was watching on the slightly fuzzy TV was just distracting enough to let you unclench your jaw.

           Sam returned a few minutes later bearing gifts. He threw the gummy worms on the other bed and deftly cracked open the small bottle of painkillers before handing it to you with a bottle of Dr. Pepper. When you’d thrown back a few, he pulled a petite box of tampons out of the plastic bag. He gave them to you, balling the bag in his palm before tossing it across the room into the wastebasket. Folding his long legs to sit opposite you on the other mattress, he braced his elbows on his knees. “Are you hungry?”

           “Always—” Dean answered, cut off by Sam’s exasperated look over your shoulder to his brother before he turned his gaze back to you.

           You unfurled yourself and sat up straight through the thick ache gripping your abdomen. “You’re sweet, but I’m not sick or anything, I’ll be fine. I don’t want you guys to think I’m a baby. Give me like five minutes and we can head out.” You grabbed the box and went to the bathroom.

           When you came out the boys weren’t suiting up like you’d expected, still where you’d left them on the plasticky paisley quilts. “It’s late, the sheriff can wait until tomorrow,” Dean said, motioning for you to refill your spot next to him. You quirked up an eyebrow in question.

           “Chinese food is on the way—got veggie lo mein and fried rice for you because I didn’t know which one you were in the mood for,” Sam offered, finally getting up to shuck off his jacket and boots.

           “Guys, come on, I’m okay.” You rifled through your duffel bag to pull out the all-purpose pumps you kept for pretending to be someone who didn’t wear work boots 90% of the time.

           “We know you are, killer. You’re forgetting who stitches your stoic ass up; you’ve got nothing to prove. Let a couple old men have a day off.”

           “You’re 34.”

           “Even more reason I need a night off, I feel like I’m 70.”

           Sam smiled at that one just as you did, tossing a beer to Dean from the minifridge in the corner. He held another up in a silent question and lobbed it when you opened your palms to catch. You looked between the brothers from next to your duffel, straining to see frustration or pity in their eyes and finding nothing as Sam crossed the room to sit opposite Dean in a few lazy strides.

           A beat of waiting didn’t help you come up with a reason to get back to work, so you kicked off the unlaced boots on your feet and cracked open the can feeling both thankful and reluctant. When you followed Sam over to the beds, you leaned over where he sat to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you,” you half-whispered, your voice low near his ear. His shy, empathetic half smile was all the ‘you’re welcome’ you wanted, and you flopped down onto a bed.

           When the takeout came, Sam doled out chopsticks (and a fork for Dean) and food. You stopped to think about how nice it was; how much beer, TV, salty food, back rubs, and your boys really were what you wanted, not just now but every day. Maybe not everything about being on your period was so bad.

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request! Tags are always open. 

Tags: @sams-sass , @jarpadjenackles , @anxiousbarnes​ , @akshi8278​ , @whatareyousearchingfordean , @deanwinchesterswitch , @flannellover67

[atomic-taco-muffin]

Hmmm how about a request about shapeshifter reader getting captured by the scientist and gets experimented on. When Lloyd finally rescues them they are scared and won't look at him or let him touch them because some of the experiments cause bad burns and scars to their body and they are now self conscious about them.

You’re Safe Now Part 4

Warnings: angst/fluff. mainly angst, swearing, mentions of torture, self consciousness

You and Lloyd were out walking again, this time in your human form. It was nice to see the different shops and landmarks around. You and Lloyd stopped by at a candy shop and Lloyd told you to wait outside. You waited outside as Lloyd went to go buy candy. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched but you shook it off. That was the biggest mistake you have made in your entire life. You felt someone wrap their hand over your mouth and pulled you into an alleyway. You fought the best you could but he was stronger. You accidentally breathed in a chemical and you passed out. 

“Fuckin’ finally. You’re a tough one ya know that? Dr. Brigon is gonna kick my ass but at least he’s gonna have fun with you.” he said. 

Lloyd walked out of the candy shop and saw that you weren’t there. He called your name and looked around but you weren’t anywhere. He saw a truck with the hunter from the other day. He dropped the candy and ran back to The Bounty. 

“Guys! (Y/N)’s been kidnapped!” he yelled as he entered the ship. 

“What?! How?!” Kai asked. 

“I don’t know how. But when I left the candy shop, they weren’t there. As I was looking around, I saw that hunter from the other day.” 

“We gotta go save them!” Cole said. 

“Let’s come up with a plan and then we can go save them.” Lloyd said. The ninja agreed and went to go come up with a plan. 

“Hold on, (Y/N). We’re coming.” he said to himself. 

~~~~

You woke up, not knowing where you were or how you got there. You looked around and saw that you were in your leopard form and in a glass cell. You tried clawing the glass but you got a shock to your neck. You yowled in pain and fell to the floor. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You don’t want to get marks on that pretty neck of yours now do you?” You looked towards the voice and saw the scientist who wanted you and the hunter who kidnapped you. You growled lowly as they walked over to your cell. 

“Oh don’t worry, sweet thing. We’re gonna take such good care of you.” the scientist said as he knelt down to your height. He then ordered the hunter to put on some protective gear. The hunter went to put on the gear and stepped into your cell. He grabbed you by the collar and held you still. The doctor came in with a very scary looking syringe. He told the hunter to tilt your neck and the hunter did just that. Very roughly. He stuck the syringe in your neck and it hurt really bad. You moaned in pain as the contents of the syringe went inside you. The hunter let you go and you turned into your human form. 

“W-what did you do to me?” you whimpered. 

“Oh, just a simple serum that I have developed. It helps stop your shapeshifting so that I can experiment on you. And the best part about this is, it was made from your parents.” he said. You gasped and scooted away from him. 

“What are you gonna do to me?” you asked. 

“Oh, nothing much. Just extract some of your DNA, your blood cells, you know science shit.” he said. He ordered the hunter to pick you and he did just that. He brought you to the scientist and held your arms behind your back. The scientist grabbed a small knife and brought it close to your face. 

“No, please don’t. No. NO!” 

~~~~

The ninja had developed a plan to save you and headed to where they met the scientist. Once they got there, Lloyd reminded the ninja the plan. The ninja nodded in agreement and headed inside. When they walked inside, they were greeted by the hunter. 

“If you came to save that pathetic shapeshifter, you’re gonna have to get through me first.” he said. 

“Go. We got this.” Kai told Lloyd. Lloyd nodded and went to go find you while the ninja distracted the hunter. Lloyd walked through the halls, trying to find you. When he heard you scream, he knew exactly where to go. He followed the sounds of your screams and soon found you, all cut up with burns on your arms and your legs, and the scientist torturing you. 

“Hey! Leave them alone!” Lloyd yelled as he pulled out his swords. The scientist turned around and looked at Lloyd. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the green ninja. So nice for you to join us.” he said. 

“Let. Them. Go.” Lloyd growled. 

“Or what? You’re gonna do that pathetic tornado thing to knock me out?” the scientist mocked. Lloyd growled again and charged at the scientist. He swung his sword and used his power until the scientist was knocked out. Lloyd put his swords away and ran to you. 

“(Y/N)! Are you okay?” he asked. 

“L-Lloyd? Is that you?” you asked. 

“Yeah. It’s me. C’mon. Let’s get you out of here.” He picked you up and you whimpered in pain. 

“Everything hurts.” you said. 

“I know. I’m gonna take you back to The Bounty and Zane is gonna help patch you up. Just hang on, okay?” he said. You nodded and held on to him as he ran out of the lab. 

“Guys, I got them. Let’s go.” he said. 

“Thank god. I don’t know much longer I could go against him.” Nya said. The ninja ran as fast as they could to The Bounty. Misako wasted no time in lifting the anchor when the hunter came out. He tried jumping onto the anchor but he missed. Once the anchor was up, Lloyd handed you to Zane and Zane went to go take care of your wounds. 

~Le Time Skip~

Lloyd knocked on the door to the medical room. When he heard Zane saying that he can come in, he opened the door and walked in. He walked over to you and sat down next to you. 

“How’re you doing, (Y/N)?” he asked. 

“I-I’m doing okay. Zane was just finishing up.” you said softly. Lloyd smiled and got a better look at you. You had a scar over your eye covered with some bandages. You also had what appeared to be second degree burns on your arms and legs, also covered in bandages. Zane finished wrapping up your leg and grabbed some more painkillers along with some burn cream. 

“Hey, Zane. Do you mind giving me and Lloyd some time alone?” you asked. 

“Sure. I’ll be right outside.” he said. He handed you the medication and walked out of the room. 

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t trusting my instincts when I got kidnapped.” you said, looking at the ground. 

“No. It was my fault. I should’ve brought you into the store with me. I just wanted it to be a surprise. I know you’ve never had human candy so I thought that I would bring you some. But, things didn’t go as planned.” Lloyd said. You felt the urge to cry and buried your face in your hands. It hurt to do so, but you didn’t care right now.

“Hey, why’re you crying?” Lloyd asked. 

“I look so horrible right now. And I’m too careless to trust my own instincts. I don’t deserve to live. You should’ve left me with that scientist. At least, I would’ve been able to see my family again.” you sobbed. 

“(Y/N), look at me.” You lifted your head and looked at Lloyd. He took his thumb and gently wiped your tears away, trying to be careful of your wound. 

“I know you look really bad right now, but they’re gonna heal. I bet that eye one’s gonna look badass once it heals.” You giggled at that.  

“I know that you’re a little careless. But at least it’s not as bad as Kai.” he said. 

“I heard that!” Kai yelled. 

“Oh, shut up! Anyway, you shouldn’t think bad about yourself. Things will get better. I promise. I know your family would be so proud of you for surviving. I can feel it.” You smiled and hugged him. He hugged back and rubbed your back. 

“Wanna go watch My Hero with me and the others?” he asked. You nodded and he picked you up. He took you to the theatre room and sat you gently on his lap. He handed you a bowl of popcorn and you all watched My Hero Academia together. You soon fell asleep, and Lloyd took you back to his room to sleep. He climbed into bed and held you close to him and fell asleep himself. 

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter Six

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of alcohol, use of the word cripple

Word Count: 2,989

The sun shined in and illuminated your face. You slept through it until the heat got too much to handle and you were suddenly blindingly aware of your headache. You should’ve drank more water the night before. You hadn’t changed out of your clothes from the night before, but that was the least of your concern.

You did your best to roll over but it didn’t protect you and eventually you had to realize sleeping wasn’t an option. You got up to take a shower before the realization hit you that you just slept in the same bed as your boss. It felt more personal than having kissed him at the party to prove a point. No one forced you two to share the bed, there had been no wandering eyes.

Ivar looked so peaceful in his sleep. You stood by the bed, staring at his face for entirely too long. It was one of the rare opportunities you had to just appreciate how beautiful he was. It didn’t hurt that he had softened up some the night before. Not enough to be considered a soft person, but in comparison to his usual antics he was. He had apologized too. But that was the alcohol talking.

At some point you realized it was all too creepy to stand by the bed and watch Ivar sleep. You wanted to take a shower but another thought crossed your mind: Ivar. He drank more than you had and you didn’t feel particularly good. You shuffled through a medicine cabinet for the next few minutes and grabbed a glass of water.

It was second nature to do things for him anyways. Besides, all he would do is complain if you didn’t. You were doing it for yourself. Mostly… you also had the quiet hope that maybe he’d stay nicer if you helped. You placed the stuff on the counter next to the bed and picked up the cane, you paused at his braces. You didn’t know much about it but you had the feeling he probably shouldn’t have slept in that. The issue was that touching it was a big no go.

You undressed and entered the shower. What you needed was the warm water to distract you from your hangover, but what you ended up doing was thinking. Ivar probably put up a lot more walls and fronts than most people. They struggled to remain up when he was drinking and thinking was hard. Maybe that was cruel on your end to encourage but he seems so much calmer. There’s no way he enjoys being high strung and an asshole. He was always so angry and annoyed.

But now you had a small taste for something else he could be. It was poor taste on your part, but you liked it. It felt different. A part of you wanted to chase after that. Your life would be so much easier if you succeeded. It would make marrying him so much more tolerable.

Your shower was cut short— and by short, it lasted one hour instead of the three hours you could’ve easily spent pruning in there. The sound of Ivar groaning loudly distracting you from your thoughts. “Ivar?”

“I—,” he stopped talking for a moment and you turned off the shower. “I need help.” His voice was pained and you realized everything had hit him at once.

“Coming!” You hadn’t heard him ask for help before and it made you want to drop everything you were doing without any hesitation. It was one thing to demand stuff and another for him to admit he needed things. You dried off and threw a robe on. “I put a bunch of stuff by the bed. I don’t know what you usually take.”

Ivar rolled his torso over, grabbing at things and opening a bottle of painkillers. “Did you put these here?” His breath was labored and his eyes narrowed, but there was no anger behind it, just intent.

You nodded your head. “I woke up with a headache, I figured you’d feel worse.” His face softened up for a moment and he took a gulp of water along with some pills. “They usually take about thirty minutes to kick in—“

“I know how long they take,” his voice was stained but the pain he was in didn’t stop him from snapping at you.

You bit down on your bottom lip, holding back from snapping back. “I’m just trying to make conversation.” You chose your words carefully. You understood, on some level, the type of pain he was going through. You understood the short fuse it came with and the eagerness to find release. “I’m being nice. Don't antagonize me.”

Ivar tried to sit up and undo the braces but struggled. You sat down on the edge of the bed and wordlessly started to undo them when his hand quickly reached down and went over yours. You paused, your eyes quickly finding his. “What are you doing?” He asked. There was a panic behind his voice.

“I’m— you wanted them off, right?” You weren’t going to push a touchy subject but it wasn’t good to keep them in forever.

He stared at you, conflicted. “I don’t want you to— well I—“ the conversation was constantly at a stop and go. Neither of you were good at navigating even normal conversations together, let alone one about this. “Fine.” He took a deep breath and tilted his head.

You undid the braces easily, being gentle about it. You didn’t know his level of pain or which areas were sensitive and if any weren’t. “Does it hurt,” your voice was quiet as you watched him. He didn’t seem capable of looking at you.

“Not anymore than they already did.”

“You just look stressed.” You sat and stared at his face. Ivar didn’t seem capable of movement. Maybe it was just pain.

Ivar took a deep breath and then sighed. “People don't usually react well to it. I guess I just don’t want to know what you look like when you do.”

Your face fell and your mouth parted as you tried to figure out what to say. You guessed that he’d been told everything you wanted to say already. If he heard them a hundred times and still felt this way it wouldn’t change. “You told me you don’t care what other people think. In the bathroom, the day you proposed.”

“You already know I do.”

“You’re not good at hiding it, Ivar. It’s why I told you the office sided with you. I never judged you for stuff like this, it seems pointless. I do judge you when you go around asking like an asshole,” you teased. “So why would I start now?”

Ivar chuckled quietly in response. “I don’t know. I can’t fire you anymore? You had a lot of things you wanted to say about me but never did until now.”

Fair enough, you shrugged. “And it’s always a direct result of you being a jerk. But I care about you regardless in some capacity. If I didn’t I would’ve stayed in the shower.”

“Did you just get out of the shower?”

“I— yes.”

Ivar winced as he sat up in the bed. His back against the headboard. He just noticed you were wearing a robe. “Are you naked under there,” a smirk cracked on his face.

“N—No,” your face was immediately flushed at the mention of it. Your hand went back to the robe. You should’ve just let him struggle.

Ivar raised an eyebrow. “So you shower with your clothes on?” He laughed at the idea of it.

“Fine! I am. But it’s rude to ask a lady if she’s secretly naked,” you were flustered as you laughed. “I got worried! What was I supposed to do, leave you?”

“I would’ve,” he shrugged.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” you gave him a pointed look. There was no way he meant that. Please. The thought echoed in your mind.

But you didn’t get an answer as he glanced down at his slack covered legs. No braces. “How’d you do that so easily? Don't tell me your stalker work extended to stuff like this.”

It never felt relevant to mention why until now, since he asked. “I used to play on my college soccer team until I completely fucked my ACL, and my meniscus, and shattered my left knee. I think the poor girl I collided with got it worse, but I don’t really knkw that. It was a gnarly collision,” you reflected. “But the point is that my left leg was completely broken until graduation. I used to wear a brace like that until it started getting better.”

At the time it sucked but Ivar made you realize you were lucky it was a temporary thing. “I have scars but I doubt they compare much to whatever you’ve got,” you laughed. “So I wasn’t about to start bitching back when you got rude. Cause I get it, it hurts.”

Your leg bounced nervously as you watched him. Ivar didn’t say much, his blue eyes locked on your face. “It’s a little rude of you to heal,” he decided to say. Your face scrunched up in confusion. “We could’ve been crippled buddies, but you had to go be some loser who can walk,” he laughed.

Your body relaxed at his laugh and you found yourself laughing too. “You’re totally right. I’m so sorry, Ivar. I’ll do better next time.”

It was a dumb thing to joke about but it felt nice. “Can I see your scar? I’d like to make fun of it,” he nodded his head to your bouncing leg.

You stopped bouncing it and swallowed. “Well. As you astutely pointed out earlier— I’m naked, Ivar.” Your eyes were wide. There was no real reason to feel nervous about that.

“If that was your way of convincing me it was a bad idea, rest assured it had the opposite effect,” he immediately closed his mouth. You stared at each other for a moment longer until there was a knock at the door.

“I’m gonna go get dressed,” you smiled faintly as you got up. His mother entered the room and started to talk to Ivar. You couldn’t hear much of the conversation behind a closed door. Not that you could think much about it either. That cheeky bastard.

—

“I’m an absolute God at Mario Kart. You’re going to have to be a hacker if you want to beat me,” you smiled as kindly as you could manage. But your anger and determination was real.

Ivar was bed ridden, fair enough. You kinda liked the idea of just staying in bed the whole day. The honesty from earlier couldn’t be brought back due to an intruder, Hvitserk. Honestly, you liked him a lot more before learning he thought you were a gold digger. But it made more sense than reality.

Hivtserk was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the foot of the bed. Everyone had a controller in hand as he set up Mario Kart. “I’m still amazed Ivar let you in his bed at all,” he admitted.

“I’m his fiancée. He ought to,” you teased. You glanced at Ivar who rolled his eyes. You remember his earlier comment ‘you can stay on the floor’. “Besides, it’s utterly massive.”

You were quick to select Waluigi and found that Ivar got annoyed at the selection. “Ivar always picks Waluigi,” Hivtserk laughed.

“Aww, is that why he’s pouting?” You could be nasty when it comes to competition. “Learn to share or pick a new character. Because if you’re marrying me then I get Waluigi.” Your face was so serious about the topic.

“How is that fair!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. “You have such youngest-sibling energy! You’re a baby!” You cooed as you reached over, knowing that Ivar had to tolerate it.

But if you could play at that game then he could join. Your hand tried to touch his face and he used it as an excuse to pull you over and kissed you for a brief moment. It was your fault for establishing it was okay by doing it last night, but it didn’t stop your face from heating up as you pulled back. “I thought that’d shut you up.”

You glanced back to the screen, staying quiet for a moment. Why did that make your heart race when you knew he did it for show and prove you two were dating. This was especially true because his brother was here and already didn’t trust you. Hivtserk laughed at your response, “if only Ivar was so easy to silence.”

It threw you off. You got 5th place the first race and kicked yourself for it. “I thought you were supposed to be a God,” Ivar mocked.

Your eyes narrowed, “we have 4 more races. You won’t win another.” It brought back your competitive spirit as you focused on how annoyed you were. Anger was a good driving force and the game was a beautiful distraction.

Four games later and you smirked in self satisfaction at the top of the podium. “I told you, Ivar. You wouldn’t win another.” Hvitserk was just lucky to place considering how often he crashed. “I went easy on you since you already lost your character.”

“Oh shut up. Race me again.”

“I could still win!” Hvitserk insisted.

“You couldn’t even beat the simulation,” you snorted. “How can you beat me, let alone Ivar?”

—

The three of you played games, straying away from conversations. Others occasionally stopped by to try and talk but most left Ivar alone. They knew what he was usually like on his bad days but he was handling it better than usual. They blamed you but you knew better.

“They seem to really care about you,” you noted the moment you were alone with him.

“They’re family,” Ivar rolled his eyes, “they have to care.”

You nodded your head. “Still. You have people who do.” You were used to being alone by now. Seeing people in mass care like that was nice. You had friends but it was hard to hang out, you worked too much.

Ivar glanced at you, “well. They’ll care about you too.”

“For three years,” she snorted, “meanwhile Hvitserk thinks I’m a gold digger.” You weren’t sure why you cared as much as you did. But it felt personal to talk about. It wasn’t fun. Ivar looked away after your comment and ran his fingers through his hair. “We should set some ground rules,” you spoke up after a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t expect you to kiss me earlier— I mean it’s fine. I kissed you last night. But I didn’t realize we’d just… do that now,” you bit your bottom lip. “It was smart. It makes us look real.”

He nodded his head slowly, “yeah well. I figured that was the goal.” It didn’t feel honest but you didn’t dare press it. Or maybe you were just wanting him to be lying.

“So, do we just dive deep into it? Hand holding, an occasional kiss, that kind of stuff? Just while they’re around,” you were quick to reassure. All of this felt like things that should’ve been addressed a long time ago.

Ivar shrugged and nodded his head again. “If my family is going to be interviewed I want them to believe it.”

“Then stop being a jerk then. To me at least,” you rushed. “Because you’ve been fine today but by now we both know I won’t back down. It just makes us look suspicious to be fighting and arguing all the time.”

To some extent you just liked him better like this. It was fun when his insults were over a dumb video game and not aimed at you not having a family. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “But— I want Waluigi next time.” A dumb trade, and one you didn’t want to make. You hesitated to agree to it and his eyebrow raised with great interest. “Does he matter that much to you?”

“I just hate conceding.”

Ivar snorted. “Maybe you’re more like me than you’d like to admit.”

“No I’m not!” You put your hand over your mouth after you said it.

“And you’re stubborn too,” Ivar tsked, shaking his head in shame at you. “If you were the boss I bet they’d call you a tyrant too.”

“You know about that?” You had assumed he didn’t. It just seemed like a thing he would’ve called out.

“Of course I know,” he rolled his eyes from where he sat on the bed. “I just ignore it. I’m used to people not liking me.”

“I like you,” you said instantly. It was the first time you vocalized the idea but it came natural in the moment. “When you aren’t trying to make me not like you, I like you.”

Ivar’s face got red and he scowled and looked away. “Well don’t.” It lacked the bite he usually had. It was hard to take seriously.

“Because you don’t care, right? Oh wait— you admitted that was a lie this morning. Why lie now?”

Ivar didn’t have anywhere to go after that. “It’s easier. This feeling is temporary. You’ll change your mind. I’d rather not feel worse about it later. You just think you like me.”

Your face softened and you sighed gently. “I’ve had more than enough time to develop a hatred of you. I think I’d know if me liking you as fake. We could be friends if you didn’t try so hard not to be.”

“Friends,” Ivar repeated and nodded his head. “You’re right. That’s what we could be.” His reply seemed off.

“Well then…” you trailed off. “Can we?”

“Can we what,” he asked, tired already.

“Be friends. I want to be your friend.”

He hesitated, his eyes narrowed at your face. “Fine. Maybe— it’s worth a shot at least.”

—

Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @momowhoo

[potrix-the-queerschlaeger]

kickstart my heart

The sequel to boys boys boys that has been requested. You were right, peeps, we definitely needed some Sam/Bucky fluff. So, here you go.

This can also be found over on AO3.

*

1

Sam’s so absorbed in his text conversation with Sharon—there’s always some crazy shit going down in Madripoor—that it takes him a while to notice that Bucky hasn’t returned with their refills yet.

The coffee shop isn’t busy, so he quickly spots Bucky by the register, and has to snort when he realises what’s going on. Bucky’s got a hip propped against the counter, casual and loose, and is smiling sweetly at the barista, dimples out in full force. Sam’s too far away to hear what’s being said, but the barista’s cheeks are flushed, and as Sam watches, his hand slowly, carefully moves closer to Bucky’s until their pinkies just barely touch.

It still catches Sam by surprise, sometimes, to see Bucky like this, confident and at peace with himself. Laughing freely at whatever the barista is saying, eyes crinkled at the corners, and smile flirty when he answers back with something that has the barista duck his head, giggling shyly.

Bucky’s always been gorgeous, Sam will freely admit that to anyone but the man in question, but Bucky content and happy is something else entirely.

“Do not ruin this place for us,” Sam warns, just loud enough that he knows Bucky’s enhanced hearing will pick it up, “they have the best carrot cake in the city, man.”

Bucky never looks away from the barista, but he does flip Sam off behind his back, so he definitely caught it.

(Watch out for the break!)

Chuckling to himself, Sam picks his phone up again. Sarah’s sent a series of adorable pictures of Cass and AJ, and Sam is gushing over them like the loving uncle he is when a steaming cup is set down by his elbow. He looks up as Bucky drops into the chair across the table, eyes immediately zeroing in on the plate in his hand.

“Special delivery,” Bucky teases with a quiet laugh, and pushes the giant piece of carrot cake towards Sam. “You’re welcome.”

Sam’s heart flutters traitorously.

2

“I am a trained medical professional, Sergeant Barnes, I can assure you that I know what I’m doing.”

Bucky doesn’t stop glowering at the doctor, looming over her back as she finishes up with the stitches on Sam’s forehead. Sam hisses when she ties off the last one, and Bucky breathes out something that sounds suspiciously like a growl.

The doctor doesn’t seem fazed. Sam shoots her an apologetic smile anyway.

His wrist is badly sprained, she tells him while she puts it in a brace, and he’s bruised pretty much all over, but there are no more serious injuries to worry about. As soon as he’s cleared to leave, Bucky’s right there with an arm around his waist, snatching the bottle of painkillers the doctor holds out with a glare.

Sam can see the doctor trying very hard not to roll her eyes.

He nods off on the drive home, head on Bucky’s shoulder, and barely wakes up enough to stagger up to his apartment with Bucky’s guiding hands on his shoulders. He’s deposited on his bed, dozing lightly until Bucky returns a few minutes later with a glass of water, and helps him sit up enough to swallow one of the painkillers.

The last thing he hears before he falls asleep again is Bucky tugging and cursing at the laces of his boots.

It’s dark out when Sam wakes up again, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, and panting wildly. His hand is trembling when he rubs it over his wet eyes, and he has to clench his teeth against the sob he can feel bubbling up his throat.

He startles when his bedroom door creaks open, and watches in sleepy confusion as Bucky makes his way across the room towards the bed. Bucky is warm and solid when he reaches out for Sam, hands gentle as he pulls Sam close, and Sam is too exhausted to question anything, just lets himself be tucked against Bucky’s side, head on his chest.

Bucky tugs the sheets up and over them without a word.

Sam breathes out shakily, fingers curling into Bucky’s shirt, and closes his eyes again.

3

Joaquín’s face as he walks out of the plane is very telling.

“So, the good news is,” he starts, grease-streaked hands on his hips, “I can fix the engine. Well. I think I can. Probably.”

Sam and Bucky exchange a sceptical look.

“Rude,” Joaquín sniffs.

Sam quirks a brow at him. “I’m assuming there’s some bad news, too?”

“There’s always bad news,” Bucky mutters, which is, more often than not, true.

He shrugs off his combat jacket, and Sam gets momentarily distracted by the way his damp undershirt clings to his abs. Joaquín clears his throat, mouth pursed in amusement when Sam turns back to him.

Sam narrows his eyes at him. Joaquín just grins back.

“Well?” Bucky demands.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, so,” Joaquín grimaces, “I don’t actually have the parts I need—”

Sam and Bucky groan in unison.

“—but! But I managed to get through to HQ, and they’ll airdrop everything I need.” He pauses, looking shifty, before he adds, much quieter, “In about eight hours.”

“What the fuck,” Bucky hisses, at the same time as Sam yells, “Eight hours?”

Joaquín spreads his arms wide, gesturing around them. “Well, I mean. We are in the middle of the jungle, you know?”

Which, unfortunately, is also true.

With not much else to do but wait, they decide to set out and explore the area around the crash site. The plane is stocked with emergency rations that will last them for a while, but they’re low on water, and in this heat, that could become a problem pretty soon.

The universe, mercifully, decides to give them a break, and they find a small lake after only about half an hour of searching. Sam whistles appreciatively, and Joaquín actually pumps his fist, whooping, “Nice!”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, but immediately starts kicking off his boots.

“Uh,” Joaquín says, unsure, peering into the seemingly calm lake. “Do you think that’s a good idea? We don’t know what lives in there.”

Bucky only snorts at that. “I think I can handle an alligator,” he declares, pulls off his shirt, and, with a wink in Sam’s direction, dives headfirst into the water.

“So.” Joaquín eyes Sam with a mischievous little smirk on his face. “What’s going on here? Anything you wanna tell me?”

“That you’re way too nosy,” Sam shoots back, but has to smile when Joaquín just laughs, and nudges their shoulders together.

“You seem happier, though, lately,” Joaquín goes on. “Both of you. So, you know. Good for you, yeah?”

Bucky choses that moment to resurface, wet chest glistening in the sun. Sam can’t help but stare, just for a moment, as Bucky stretches his arms over his head with a happy little sigh.

Next to him, Joaquín starts cackling.

Sam decides to push him in the lake.

He’s pretty sure Bucky will save him if there really are any alligators.

+1

Sam is picking up cups and paper plates around the yard as the party winds down, absently humming along to the music that’s still playing softly from inside the house. The sun has set a while ago, but it’s summer and still pleasantly warm outside, and the faint glow from the porch lights is just enough to see where he’s going.

It’s quiet and peaceful, and Sam smiles to himself as he ties off the trash bag.

Last year, on the 4th of July, he’d stood in front of hundreds of people, talking about Steve’s biggest achievements and sacrifices as if his loss hadn’t still been fresh for him, too. As if he hadn’t been grieving for a friend, instead of an international icon and hero.

This year is different, though. Today has been good. Very good.

Sam had, politely but firmly, denied to speak at any memorial services or ceremonies, had announced that he would be incommunicado for the week, and had packed up his shit to spend the holiday with his family in Louisiana.

His wings are stowed away, his phone is off, and he won’t have to talk to anyone from work for at least another few days.

Well. Almost no one.

Bucky’s just vanishing around the corner upstairs when Sam steps into the house, Cass in one arm and AJ in the other. They’re definitely getting too big to be carried around like this, something Sam’s back reminds him of whenever he does it these days, but something about seeing Bucky do it has Sam feel warm all over.

He can hear one of the boys murmur sleepily, and then Bucky say something that has both of them giggling tiredly.

Sam breathes out shakily.

It’s no wonder Sarah’s been making fun of him ever since he arrived with his unannounced guest in tow.

“Hey.”

When Sam glances up, Bucky’s standing on the stairs, only a few steps up, watching him with his head tilted curiously. “The boys want you to go say goodnight to them.”

Sam nods, absently licking his bottom lip. Bucky’s eyes track the movement.

“Buck,” Sam whispers, and when he holds out a hand, Bucky takes it without hesitation, letting himself be pulled close. “Can I—”

Bucky’s, “Yeah,” is pressed against Sam’s mouth, his lips soft and warm. Sam kisses back for a moment, before resting their foreheads together with a shuddering sigh.

“Wait up for me?”

Bucky nods, pecking him on the cheek. “Okay.”

He squeezes Sam’s hand, lingering, then lets go to join everyone else in the living room. He says something, too low for Sam to make out, but it makes Sarah laugh, loud and excited, and Bucky chuckle deeply in response.

Just a regular, normal holiday weekend with his family, Sam thinks as he moves up the stairs, absently touching his cheek.

All of his family.

[cozyenigma]

Running on Empty

Also know as me this past week

Paring- reader x the host

Word count- 763

Request? - nope!

Summary- After a particularly draining day, you’re ready to collapse. Luckily you find a sympathetic ear beforehand.

Today was just one of those days. Little things started to pile on top of each other until all you wanted to do was collapse. You'd forgotten to charge your phone the night before. The bus you took to work was late. Don't even get you started on work. It was busy to the point you had to sit in the break room for a few minutes just to breathe. To top it all off, you now had a throbbing headache too.

Now you faced the prospect of the rest of the night already irritable and running on empty. You had stuff you'd planned on doing. Cleaning, chores, hell maybe even something fun for once. 

Sighing, you tossed your keys onto the table and started kicking off your shoes. It took you a minute, probably because of how distracted you were already, but you didn't notice the coat hanging there until you went to put up your own. 

Ordinarily, the Host dropping in would be a welcome treat. The man came and went as he pleased most days. If you were a betting kind of person you might say he had a sense for when you needed the company. Though tonight you had a feeling you were going to be insufferable to be around. You found him in his usual spot, curled up on the couch with a book, chin propped up on one hand. It was notoriously difficult to sneak up on the Host and the only time you might have some luck would be if he was lost in a story. 

Still, the floor creaked under your steps and he lifted his head, lips twitching up into a smile. One that died a rather swift death as soon as he got a read on you. Feeling guilty about ruining the night before it even began, you tried for a smile. "Fancy meeting you here," you said, more a habit now than anything, "sorry I haven't had much chance to clean-"

You broke off as you turned towards the kitchen, seeing the sink that was very full of dishes this morning remarkably empty and clean. Turning back to the Host, you frowned.

"The Host was bored," he offered, not at all convincing and with far too much satisfaction at seeing you pout. "You didn't have to do that," you said, moving around to the other side of the couch, "I was gonna do them tonight."

"You were not."

The glare you shot his way was more on principle than anything. You plopped heavily onto the couch beside him, rubbing your temple with a sigh. All at once the day had hit you. Even the prospect of getting up for painkillers was too much effort now.

"The Host assumes today was... less than pleasant?"   "That's a mild way of putting it," you huffed. "I'm sorry but I don't think I'm good for much other than passing out tonight, Host."

The Host hummed and you closed your eyes, trying to weather through the sudden bout of nausea. You startled a bit when a hand wrapped around your arm. Gentle but apparently quite insistent, the Host pulled you over towards him. That was how you ended up more or less with your head on his lap, his arms settling down around you.

"Gonna read me a bed time story?" You asked with a small huff of a laugh. "Something like that." You could see the little smile on his face. "It hardly works if your eyes are open though."

You rolled your eyes but went along with it. As soon as you'd shut your eyes, you heard the turn of a page and the Host started to read aloud. You always thought he had a voice for radio. Speaking in low, calm tone, he held the book in one hand while the other found its way to your hair. He didn't pause when you sighed at the feeling of fingers against your scalp.

It was nice to just take a moment. Especially after the day you had, just lying down anywhere at all was a godsend. At first you tried to follow along with the Host's words even though he'd picked up in the middle of whatever he was reading. But eventually it all faded off into background noise, words washing over you like water. You didn't even notice when you finally fell asleep. At some point the words stopped though the fingers in your hair kept on. It was a good thing the Host brought a couple different books since you weren't going anywhere for a while. 

[bowsie22]

Pingxie Collection 5

Summary: Sanshu has made a lot of bad decisions in his life. Sometimes they come back to bite Wu Xie in the ass

It had been an oddly quiet week for Wu Xie. Pangzi had returned to check on his shop in Beijing, dragging Xiaoge with him for heavy lifting. Wang Meng had taken two weeks off for a family wedding on the other side of the country. Wu Xie had decided to close the shop to customers, only taking appointments for appraisals. Even then he only took four or five of those a day. Wu Xie rarely had peace and quiet like this. He was determined to enjoy it.

Not that Pangzi was giving him much peace. Every day Wu Xie was sent multiple photos of Pangzi and Xiaoge in Pangzi’s shop, in various tourist destinations around Beijing or Xiaoge with large plates of food in front of him. In all the photos Xiaoge had a small smile on his face, clearly having a good time. It made Wu Xie happy. Xiaoge deserved to smile. And if he and Pangzi had an agreement between themselves to get at least three smiles from Xiaoge per day? Well, the older man didn’t have to know that.

His phone dinged, letting him know that his next appointment was here. Standing from his seat behind his desk, Wu Xie headed for the gate, wanting to get the final appointment for the day over and done with.

Opening the gates, Wu Xie tensed. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something about these men that made him uncomfortable. Wu Xie always trusted his instincts and right now they were screaming for him to run. The leader stepped forward, a short man with a dangerous glint in his eyes. He had two men with him, brutes Pangzi would call them, tall, muscular, dangerous looking. “Wu Xie? We rang you about appraising the figurine. May we come in?” Nodding Wu Xue stood aside, allowing the men into Wushanju. His instincts were still screaming at him, but Wu Xie stamped them down. These men were clearly here for something and he was determined to find out what.

He led them through the doors of the shop, stupidly letting himself get distracted by a text from Xiaoge. That was all the men needed. A kick to his knee and a punch to the back of his head and Wu Xie was pinned to the ground, arms behind his back. Dazed, it took him a minute to realise that the short man was kneeling in front of him. “Wu Xie, my name is Liu Fan. And your uncle owes us quite a bit of money.” Goddamn Sanshu! Sometimes Wu Xie agreed with Xiao Hua when the other told him that his uncle was really a waste of oxygen. “Now, we can’t find him. It’s like he’s pulled off some kind of magic trick. And then we remembered his nephew, the heir to the Wu family. Your uncle needs a warning Wu Xie. Trust me, it’s not personal. It’s just business.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what felt like hours, the men left Wushanju. Wu Xie lay on the floor where they left him, spitting out blood. Goddamn, those guys were strong. Wincing, he moved slowly to his feet taking stock of his injuries. Bruised ribs definitely, a black eye and bleeding eyebrow, a sprained wrist from when they picked him up to slam him to the floor again. He’d bitten his tongue then, blood filling his mouth. Probably wasn’t the smartest idea to spit it into thug one’s face, but Pangzi always said that Wu Xie needed to think more.

Liu Fan’s card was still on the floor and Wu Xie was too sore to try and pick it up. Five million yuan. His uncle owed these men five million yuan and Wu Xie had a week to get it. If not, they’d take it from his flesh. Bit cliché but no less scary when two men were looking over your bruised and battered body each holding a very sharp knife. He’d have to call Ershu. And clear his accounts.

Goddamn Sanshu.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had one dependable uncle at least. After sitting through a fifteen-minute lecture about how stupid it was to let random people into shop when he was alone, Ershu finally started asking relevant questions about Liu Fan and the money owed. As the doctor his uncle brought with him tended to his wounds, Wu Xie answered all the questions, doing his best to remember what he could.

After asking his questions Ershu left the room for a minute, both Wu Xie and the doctor pretending they didn’t hear him curse his younger brother to the deepest pits of hell. His uncle walked back into the room, straightening his jacket and taking deep breaths. “Leave it with me, I’ll have the money within the week. If I don’t have the money, I’ll have people deal with Liu Fan. On my way here I called Pangzi and –“ Wu Xie pouted at his uncle, ready to complain. As usual, Ershu ignored him, Wu Xie’s puppy dog eyes not half as effective as they used to be. “- And Hei Xiazi who’ll be here this evening. Do not open that gate until you know it’s him. I’ll let you know when I get the money.”

And with that, Ershu was gone, Wu Xie left sitting in the kitchen, wondering what the hell had just happened. Making a decision, he started to cook a quick dinner. Heiye ate like he had three stomachs and wherever Heiye went, Xiao Hua was sure to go. His phone vibrated, Xiao Hua letting him know that they were outside. Wu Xie let them in, his younger friend taking a second to look over his injuries and hug him. Reassured that Wu Xie wasn’t seriously hurt, Xiao Hua swept through Wushanju, picking up Liu Fan’s card, fingers already dialling a number on the phone. The door to Wu Xie’s office closed behind him, Wu Xie and Heiye left staring after him. Slinging an arm around Wu Xie’s shoulders, checking for any winces or reactions, Heiye laughed. “By the time Wu Erbai and Xiao Hua finish with him, Liu Fan will regret ever being in the same building as Wu Sanxing. Then again, I think that’s how most people feel about your uncle.”

After an hour or so a very satisfied Xiao Hua joined them in the living room, settling beside Heiye in the love seat. He cast a critical eye over Wu Xie, moving to the kitchen to grab the painkillers the doctor had given Wu Xie and a glass of water. He handed them to the other man, herding him to his bedroom, making sure he was comfortable. “Pangzi and Xiaoge will be here tonight. Pangzi seems to be breaking every speed law on his way here. I’ll need to pay off a lot of police officers. You’re lucky I love you Wu Xie.” He closed the door softly, collapsing beside Heiye and relaxing for the first time since they got the call about the attack. “You ruin his life petal?” Xiao Hua smirked, knowing that between he and Wu Erbai, Liu Fan would regret every decision he had ever made in his life. Go after Wu Sanxing all you want, but go after Wu Xie? Face the consequences.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wu Xie woke up the next morning, not surprised to feel an arm around his waist, breath on the back of his neck. Xiaoge was home. For the first time since those men had entered Wushanju, Wu Xie felt safe. He wiggled around to face Xiaoge, smiling when the other man pressed a soft kiss to the butterfly stitches on hie eyebrow. “Welcome home. Sorry you had to cut your trip short, you looked like you were having fun.” Xiaoge nodded, running gentle fingers up and down Wu Xie’s spine, lulling the younger man back to sleep. As he drifted off, Wu Xie heard Xiaoge humming softly, lips pressed to Wu Xie’s hair.

He woke up alone a few hours later, following the sound of Pangzi’s voice to the kitchen. “Sleeping beauty awakens. Or should that be bruised beauty?” Ignoring Pangzi, Wu Xie fell into Xiaoge’s lap, the older man pulling his close, not pausing in his conversation with Heiye. Pangzi placed a bowl of hotpot in front of him, lips tightening as he looked over his friend’s injuries. Wu Xie reached out grabbing his hand. “I’m ok, really. A few cuts and bruises, that’s it.” Pangzi smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair, moving back to the stove where Xiao Hua was pouring the hotpot into bowls.

Surrounded by his friends and the smell of good food, Wu Xie relaxed in Xiaoge’s arms. He knew that no one could touch him now, not with these people around him. Wushanju was safe again. Wu Xie was safe again.

A/N You can decide for yourselves what Erbai and Xiao Hua did to the debt collectors. And Sanxing

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 2: College

Virgil and Logan have a series of flirty interactions before realizing that they’re roommates.

Logan POV, Analogical with background Royality and familial Logicality.

Day 1 | Masterlist | Day 3

Logan felt extremely stereotypical as he drank from his red solo cup. According to the clock on the wall, it was currently 11:27 PM and Logan was ready to go home. He silently cursed out his brother for dragging him to this party. Patton could have asked his boyfriend to take him, but he wanted Logan to get out of the house. Logan watched as Patton and Roman made out on the other side of the room. He took a bigger swig from his cup and winced. Cheap booze. Logan wished that the other highschoolers here could swindle some better alcohol. Logan steeled himself before downing the rest of the cup. He needed a distraction from his boredom (and his brother making out with Roman Prince).

Logan swiftly stood up, frowning as he stumbled a bit. Logan had assumed that his tolerance level was higher than this. He’s only had… three? Four? Drinks. Logan should go get another drink. Logan quickly made his way to the kitchen, ignoring the other teens he passed on the way there. This house was pretty big, with multiple bedrooms for teens to have fun in. Logan eventually found the kitchen, wincing slightly at how bright the room was. There seemed to be only one person- oh.

Sitting on the counter was the most gorgeous man Logan had ever seen. Logan vaguely recognized him from the football games he attended with Patton. The teen usually manned the concession stand, wearing his overly large hoodie and dark eyeshadow. With his alcohol-fueled brain, Logan wasn’t shy to admit that he’d been crushing on the teen for a while. Tonight his crush wore a tight-fitting MCR shirt and equally tight jeans. His makeup was much more complex, complete with winged eyeliner and black lipstick. Logan suddenly felt hot all over as he moved forward to grab another drink. The sinfully attractive man just then seemed to notice Logan’s presence, swaying slightly on the counter.

“Hey, I know you!” The man slurred out. He appeared to be just as intoxicated as Logan was. “You’re the cute kid that orders cookies and water at every football game!”

Logan blushed, surprised that he remembered Logan’s face, much less his order. He then realized the first half of the sentence. “You think I’m cute?” He asked, internally frowning at the way his voice slurred.

The hot guy (who Logan was mentally dubbing ‘hottie’ from here on out. It’s not like anyone could read his thoughts) smirked. “You’re more than cute. You’re hot as shit, man.” The man giggled. “I’ve been crushing on you for a long time.”

Logan’s drunk-self couldn’t help but repeating the sentiment. “I’ve also harbored a crush on you.” They both giggled like schoolgirls at the thought, both too intoxicated to fully grasp the implications.

Hottie suddenly hopped off the counter, grabbing Logan by the hand. “C’mon.”

Logan let himself be pulled along until they reached the front door. “Where are we going?” Logan felt like he was forgetting something important. Did he have his phone? Yes, it was in Logan’s back pocket. Then what was he forgetting? It must not be important.

Hottie smiled as he led Logan across the street. “My house.” He led Logan to the front door, only letting go of his hand to unlock the door. “My parents are on vacation, so the house is empty. We just graduated and we both like each other so I thought-”

Hottie didn’t quite state what he was planning for them to do that night. It might have been because Logan chose that moment to press his lips against Hottie’s. Or that Hottie’s back was immediately pressed against the wall. Or maybe he was just too busy trying to get Logan’s shirt off.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Logan groaned as he woke up, ignoring the need to open his eyes. His head felt like it would split in two. What happened last night? Logan struggled to pick out the details. Patton forced me to go to a party. He and Roman were… occupied. I went to get another drink and found that hot guy I’ve had a crush on for a while. I confessed my feelings and we went to his house- HIS HOUSE?!

Logan forced his eyes open, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t in his own bedroom. While it was difficult to see without his glasses, Logan could still make out the majority of the room. The whole room was a strange yet aesthetically pleasing combination of charcoal grey and purple. The bedroom was sparse, with multiple cardboard boxes stacked in the corner of the room. Logan’s crush (was crush an appropriate term for someone you’ve already had sex with?) was sitting on the other end of the bed, writing something in his notebook. Logan was suddenly aware of the fact that he was naked underneath the thick comforter on top of him. He went through the mental crisis of what the hell should I do for a few minutes before the man looked up.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were awake.” The teen shuffled around before holding something out. Logan held his hand out and was slightly surprised to feel his glasses being set gently onto his palm. Logan quickly put on his glasses and watched as his crush played with his hoodie strings. It was very odd to see him like this. On one hand, he wasn’t acting like the antisocial yet terrifying teenager that he was at football games. On the other hand, he wasn’t the suave, confident young man that Logan met last night. He was… shy, and quiet (and, though Logan would never admit it… he was cute, in a soft way).

Logan felt his blush rise as the guy handed him his clothes. They were clean and folded, with not a wrinkle in sight. How long has he been up for? And how long have I been asleep? Logan watched as the man gestured towards the bathroom and walked out of the room. Logan quickly stepped into the bathroom and changed, ignoring the heavy nausea he felt from his hangover. He then made his way out of the room, making his way to the kitchen. His crush was sitting on the counter, his phone in one hand and an unopened bottle of water in the other. Logan’s phone sat on the counter next to him, connected to a charger. The man offered Logan the water, which he accepted gratefully, chugging half the bottle before using the cool bottle as an icepack for his headache. His crush winced at the action. “Sorry, we don’t have any painkillers around. Trust me, I checked.”

Logan offered a small smile. “I believe you.” He turned towards his phone and was unsurprised to see over 50 missed calls from Patton. “I’ll need to be leaving soon.” The man tensed up. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed. “Look, I know we went through some mushy shit last night, but… I’m moving away in a few weeks. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I could handle anything long-distance. But I didn’t mean to bring you here for a one-night stand. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve been crushing on you for a while now.”

Logan nodded. “I am also leaving for college in a few weeks. There are extremely low chances of the two of us meeting again. While I also harbor feelings towards you, I do not fancy a long distance relationship.”

They sat there in silence while Logan texted Patton. Logan left out the majority of the details, just stating that he was unharmed and that he was across the street from the party. Patton replied that he would be there in 20 minutes.

“Hey.” Logan looked up, and his crush immediately looked down at his feet. “If we ever meet again… you know, after we’ve moved and stuff… do you think we could give this a chance?”

Logan smiled. “If we somehow meet again in the future, I would thoroughly enjoy being in a relationship with you.”

They sat there for a few minutes before he smirked. “Wanna make out until your ride gets here?”

Logan leaned forward to kiss him. “Yes please.”

---------------------------------------------------

Logan sighed as he finished transferring his belongings from his car to his dorm room. Luckily his roommate wasn’t there yet, so they couldn’t see him exhausted from going up and down the stairs a dozen times. If he was here, maybe this whole thing would’ve been more bearable, but-

Logan shook his head. It’s been three months since the party, and he was probably on the other side of the country. Logan still feels like kicking himself for not getting the guy’s name or phone number. But by the time he thought of that, his crush had already moved away. But even after three months of no contact, Logan couldn’t get him out of his head. He’d fallen hard, and every night after was filled with dreams that would never happen. Kisses that never occurred, words that were never said, smiles and secrets that were never shared. God, Logan would do just about anything to have one more night with the guy. Instead, he was almost 1,000 miles away from his hometown, sharing his room with a stranger and wishing for a nameless cute guy more than he wished for his own brother.

Once everything was arranged accordingly, Logan decided to go and get some coffee. While he technically had a coffee maker in his room, Logan wanted to stretch his legs and familiarize himself with his new environment (it had nothing to do with getting thoughts of his crush out of his head, that would be preposterous). Logan made his way out of the college dorm, already dreading the walks from his dorm to his classes. The campus was larger than anything in Logan’s hometown. It took 20 minutes to reach the edge of campus, and another 15 to find a decent coffee shop. Sure, it looked like a cheap rip-off of Starbucks, but it had good reviews online so Logan was willing to give it a try.

Logan opened the front door, unsurprised to hear a small bell go off at the action. What he was surprised by was the familiar voice at the counter.

“Hello, welcome to the Coffee Castle, how may I help you?” Logan looked up just as he did, and they made eye contact over the counter. Logan’s face went red as he turned around and yelled towards the back room. “Taking my break now!”

Another voice answered back. “But I thought you were servin’ a customa?”

He blushed. “He can buy a coffee later, I gotta talk to him first. Personal stuff.”

The voice laughed. “Go gettum, V!”

V. While it wasn’t a full name, it was a much better substitute for him. V hung up his apron before dragging Logan towards the back of the coffee shop. There was a storage closet just big enough for the two of them as they slipped inside.

V smiled as he turned on the light. “Hey.”

Logan blushed. “Hello. It is very… nice, to see you again.”

V smirked. “Look, I’ve only got 10 minutes before I’ve gotta go back up to the counter. Wanna make out until then?”

Logan immediately pressed forward for a kiss. “That would be amenable.” He whispered under his breath.

Time always felt slower around V. Back when V worked the high school concession stand, a five-minute conversation felt like hours of invigorating debates. That night spent with V felt like years of drunken confessions and passionate moments. And the 8 minutes they spent making out in this closet felt like an entire lifetime of love. Every kiss was a promise for more, every sigh was a confession that didn’t need verbalization to be understood. Logan was not well-versed with recognizing and acting on emotions, but after the lifetime he was feeling in this moment, he realized that he would trade almost anything to spend an actual lifetime with V.

They eventually stopped kissing and just stood there for a moment, pressing their foreheads together in some vague form of reassurance. Logan wished that this moment of serenity would last forever, but that was not meant to be. V pulled back and blushed, looking down at his feet. “I know we both said we would give us a chance if we met again, but do you still mean it?”

Logan nodded. “Do you?”

V smiled, leaning in to kiss Logan’s nose. “I wouldn’t have pulled you into this closet if I didn’t.”

They stood there for a few moments before Logan coughed awkwardly. “Could I get your phone number? I really don’t want to go through the trouble of trying to find you again.”

V laughed. “Yeah, that makes sense.” V typed his number into Logan’s phone before sighing. “I need to get back to work.”

Logan frowned. “Alright. Will you be here tomorrow?”

Virgil smirked. “No, but I can be here if someone wants to go on a coffee date.”

Logan blushed. “That sounds acceptable. Is 1 PM a good time for you.”

Virgil smiled. “Sounds perfect.” He gave Logan one more peck on the lips before opening the closet door. “See you then.”

Logan was a blushing mess for the rest of the day. Patton had decided to call him soon after Logan left the cafe, and he squealed when Logan told him of his encounter with V. Patton then spent the next 20 minutes telling Logan what he should wear for his date tomorrow. That’s when Logan realized that holy shit I have a DATE tomorrow. He spent the rest of the day at the local library, trying to find anything on date etiquette (or just how to hold a proper conversation). After promising to tell Patton about how his date goes, he reads several philosophy books to try and calm down. By the time the library closed, Logan was feeling slightly less flustered and collected enough to meet his new roommate. Logan knew nothing but the man’s name, so it was difficult to judge whether or not this interaction would go smoothly.

Logan approached his dorm once again, feeling a nervous twist in his abdomen. First impressions meant alot to most people; would Logan’s roommate be upset that Logan wasn’t there all day? While Logan wasn’t interested in being friends with his new roommate, it would be helpful to keep a polite relationship with the person he was going to live with for the next few months.

Logan quickly entered the dorm, finding his roommate lying on the floor, eating a bag of chips. Logan cringed as the crumbs got into the carpet, but attempted to be civil nonetheless. “Hello, you must be Virgil Storm. I am your roommate, Logan-”

Logan didn’t get to finish his introduction before the man burped loudly and sat up. “Oh, I’m not Virgil.” He used his tongue to get the leftover crumbs out of his mustache. “Remus Prince, at your service!”

Logan cringed again, suddenly recognizing the man’s face. While he didn’t go to the same highschool as Logan, his resemblance was impossible to miss. “Ah, I remember now. We’ve met a few times before this, if I’m remembering correctly. You’re Roman’s twin brother, correct?”

Remus’ eyes went wide. “Yep, and your Patty’s big bro, right? My, what a small world!”

Logan couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yes, what a small world indeed.” He looked around. “Now, what are you doing in my room?”

Remus giggled. “I’m Virgil’s best friend! We were gossiping about the date he’s going on tomorrow.”

Logan nodded. “And where is he now?”

Logan heard the door open and close from behind him. Remus giggled and pointed towards the door. Logan turned around, ready to start his introductory speech again. Instead, all that came out was a quiet squeak.

Standing in the doorway, slack jawed, was V. Logan felt his cheeks turn red as he tried to come up with an appropriate response. Remus giggled again, and V then seemed to realize that Remus was there. “Remus, leave.”

Remus whined. “But we were gonna talk about the guy that made your heart flutter and your di-”

Virgil growled. “Out, Remus.”

Remus stared at the two of them while Logan continued to silently blush. He seemed to come to the correct conclusion as he laughed. “Well, the world’s even smaller than I thought it was. Have fun you two!” And with one last laugh and something whispered into Virgil’s ear, Remus left.

Logan and V- no, Virgil- stared at each other before Virgil started laughing. Logan soon joined him, and they became a giggling mess. Virgil wiped away a fake tear. “What are the odds?”

“Of the two of us being roommates at the same college? Without informing the other of what state we were moving to?” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Too small to consider.”

There was a pause before Virgil spoke up. “Well, I know we have a date planned for tomorrow, but we have two perfectly usable beds right here, and-”

This wasn’t the first time that Virgil was unable to finish telling Logan what he wanted to do, and it wouldn’t be the last. But Virgil was okay with that, if it meant that he was feeling Logan’s lips on his.

[hazbincalifornia]

Prey

Chapter 26: Hunting is fun, right?

Warnings: Mpreg, canon-typical violence.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

“Why are you wearing a coat?” Moxxie raised an eyebrow as he lowered his binoculars, and Blitzo growled from low in his throat, scrubbing at his eyes.

“Because I’m cold? Seems pretty obvious to me, Moxx.” His teeth chattering together like wind-up monkeys agreed.

“It’s seventy-five degrees out. I checked the weather here before we left to be sure it wasn’t raining, and I can feel it. It’s warm out here.”

“I said that I’m cold. Can’t a man know his own body?” Blitzo tugged the coat tighter around his middle- or at least, as much as he could. The bump had, infuriatingly, nearly outgrown the coat, but that was fine, because it was the one spot on him that wasn’t frozen like a tongue on a metal pole. It was practically boiling, actually, suctioning all the heat out of Blitzo’s body like a leech in a black hole and leaving all extremities shivering in a way reminiscent of poor street orphans. Millie reached over to snap off a square of the chocolate bar that Blitzo was holding, and her eyes widened as she brushed his fingers in the process.

“Aw, Moxxie, he’s right, he is cold! He’s-” She paused, concern gathering like storm clouds. “Really cold, actually. Are you sure you should-”

His fingers tightened around the gun in his free hand. “I’m not going home. I’m not letting this shit bench me, nothing has to change until I can shove the little cretin out and figure out what to do with them, got it?” Blitzo swatted at her hand, and she pulled back with her mouth screwed to the side and lips pursed.

“Hmmph. I’m just saying, I don’t really remember Mama or Daddy going through anything like this. I don’t think it’s a normal imp thing, is all, so you don’t know-”

“I know that if I sit at home with nothing to do, I am going to fucking lose it, so chill, alright?”

“Chill is the last thing you need, apparently,” Moxxie grumbled, and Blitzo smacked him with his tail, getting a little yelp out of the smaller imp before Millie stuck a hand over both of their mouths.

“C’mon,” she muttered, “We need to focus, they’re looking our way.”

Blitzo licked her palm, but she just raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve got four siblings, Blitz, that stopped working on me when I was eight.” Her fingers dug into his cheeks before letting go and he huffed, shuffling on his haunches and stuffing the rest of the chocolate bar in his mouth. Already, his stomach was growling again- stupid kid was being even more high-maintenance than usual. For that matter, more everything.

That morning, he’d woken up half-frozen to the bed with blood practically freezing under his skin, his stomach nearly a full inch bigger than it had been the night before with his skin itching like fuck because of it and stretchmarks creeping around the edges to boot. The binge last night must have all gone to plumping the little bastard up or something, because of course it had. (He could still feel where the kid had torn up, but it was manageable now with a handful of painkillers, at least.)

Fortunately, he had a coat in the back of his closet at work from when they’d gone to the arctic to knock off a scientist who’d stolen their target’s research, and he’d gotten it a size too big just in case he’d needed to hide one of the bulky weapons inside.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t realized that until after the client meeting.

____

“So he just left me there after I checked his gun and it went off.” The client, a deer-form sinner, had raised an eyebrow, camo jacket rustling as he folded his arms with a twitch of his ear. “Hey, how come your little lackey’s in a suit but you aren’t? It’s all unprofessional and shit. You look like a marshmallow.”

Blitzo growled, tugging his (not stretchy enough) shirt down. The light pink fabric bounced back up anyway. Traitor.

“And you ended up in Hell. We all make bad choices sometimes. Just tell me where the fucking gig is, alright?”

____

Blitzo shook his head as the leaves rustled- he needed to focus. He could not become a liability, even though leaving the warmth of Hell for the more temperate heat of Earth chilled his bones better than any iced coffee ever could.

“Gimme the rundown, Moxx. How’s it looking?”

“There’s four of them around the fire. One woman, three men, all in camouflage clothing. All wearing hunting caps for some reason too, even though this weather’s far too warm for it for most humans, I would think. Perhaps it’s some kind of pack-bonding thing.” Moxxie adjusted the binoculars a bit. “The target is the short one with the red hair.”

“G-got it,” Blitzo said, rubbing his arms. If he any hair on them, it'd be standing up. Fire sounded good. Fire sounded really good. “When reddie breaks off from the bunch, we nab them. The client said he doesn’t care if the others get hurt in the process as long as we weren't charging extra for it, he wanted the party all back together anyway.”

“Right,” Millie said with a nod. “As soon as-”

“They’re all moving out at once,” Moxxie hissed, cutting her off. “They were talking but I couldn’t hear what, the target’s being left to guard the fire.”

“It’s almost too easy,” Blitzo said, twirling the gun in his hand and before splitting off and creeping through the underbrush, each footstep sinking slightly into the damp, muddy ground with a squelch as Moxxie hissed something after him that he couldn’t quite hear. The foliage was thick enough here that he lost sight of the fire for a moment, but the cozy, flickering warmth drew him like a snake to a flute, yellow sparks creating dancing shadows off the trees- but with no long shadows to reflect except for his own. “Wait, the hell did he go?” The firepit was still crackling merrily away, but the target had vanished. He raised an eyebrow, turning back to their hiding spot. “C’mon, where is he? You go blind in the last two minutes, Moxxie?”

“He was just here- he must have stepped out to go to the bathroom,” Moxxie whisper-hissed. “Be careful, they’re-”

“C’mon, Moxxie, I’m not an invalid.” Blitzo stuck his hand in the already-opened bag of marshmallows and stuffed one in his mouth. The pops and snarls of the fire were filling the aches of his bones with soothing jelly, and his legs wobbled a little as he swallowed down the gooey snack. “I’ll go find ‘em, just… just a second…”

“Sir…”

“Relax, it takes more than ten seconds to piss.” Blitzo reached for the marshmallows again, fingers already in the bag when-

“Blitz!” Millie called out just as pain exploded through the back of his hand, and a screech bubbled up from deep in his chest as he automatically smacked his other hand at his wrist, brain taking precious milliseconds to process whatever the fuck had just happened.

There was a knife. Impaled. On his hand. Black blood spurted out in waves over his skin and sleeve, and he yanked the fingers close to his body as shrieking erupted from the bushes.

“Ha! Thought I heard somethin’! Those horns are gonna look real pretty mounted on my wall!” Red hair fell over a tanned and freckled face, and Blitzo’s fingers twitched, nerves going haywire as his other hand fumbled for something, anything, he’d dropped the fucking gun when he’d grabbed at his wrist, fuck, shit- there! His fingers clasped a small bottle and he chucked it full force at the human. It shattered, foul-smelling yellow liquid splattering his face as he sputtered and spat. “What the fuck?” The human fumbled for his weapon to retaliate, but-

BLAM!

-That was going to be rather difficult, considering his head was now in about twenty pieces, several of which splattered Blitzo's face and slid down before he brushed them off, licking at his cheeks.

“Blitz!” Millie called, hurrying down. “Are you okay?”

“I’m-”

“Put your h-hands up!”

Blitzo whirled around, automatically dropping into a hunched crouch with his non-injured arm wrapped around his stomach. He hissed as the other humans from the hunting party of doom scrambled back to the firepit. God, his hand hurt.

“Get the fuck out,” he growled in a lower timbre than he’d ever heard himself drop to, and the one in the front froze, leading the woman to shove her way upwards.

“You killed Todd!”

A bang and she collapsed to her knees, clutching at her chest before another shot went straight through her skull. A cawing crow took off from a nearby tree, rustling the leaves.

Fingers clasped his elbow, and he could smell mint- Moxxie’s mouthwash. “The target’s down, we need to-”

“I wanna rip them to pieces, they got me,” Blitzo growled.

“Millie and I can take care of- eep!” Another shot cracked off above their heads, and Moxxie dragged Blitzo to the side as a huge branch slammed down where they’d been. “You’re in no shape-“

“I’m fine!” Sweat poured down over Blitzo’s eyes, and- were there two of Moxxie all of a sudden? When did he get a twin? He didn't have a twin. Blitzo would have found that out by now.

“No, you aren’t! You’re risking all of us, call Loona so we can clean- gah!” Moxxie kicked at the air furiously as one of the remaining hunters lifted him up like a ragdoll and dragged him away, screaming all the while as he twisted and writhed in their grip. Blitzo saw red. His tail snapped like a whip as he leaped forward and bit furiously at the mound of protesting, shaking meat, and a sharp shock grazed the side of his chest before blood gushed from the human's throat as he tore the jugular out with his teeth. Inside, the kid kicked out, doing their best to distract him, but nothing was going to keep him from-

“Moxx! Blitzo!” The head cracked mere inches from his face as Millie slammed a knife into the neck and snapped the spinal cord, and a gurgling scream cut off before two pairs of hands hauled him back from the fresh corpse. He snapped his teeth, heels digging into the damp ground as he strained forward. He needed to dismember it, he needed to tear it to pieces, he needed to fucking destroy it-

“And stay down, you fucking bastards, don’t fucking touch them-“

“It’s- it’s fine, he didn’t hurt me,” Moxxie said, dragging Blitzo back by the arm. “He maybe bruised my arms at best.”

“They’re dead, Blitzo, we can go home.” Millie agreed, and their combined strength forced Blitzo to take a breath, falling limp.

“…So sloppy, the ones with guns didn’t even get a shot in.”

Moxxie sucked in a breath. “About that…” He pressed his fingers to the side of Blitzo’s pecs, and Blitzo groaned out a ‘fuck’.

“It doesn’t look too bad, it should be fine with some painkillers and a tourniquet,” Millie commented. “The hand is much worse.”

Being reminded of that sent a white-hot flare of pain scurrying up his nerves, and Blitzo hissed. “Riiiiight.”

Millie fired off a text, and by the time Blitzo turned around, the portal had opened in front of them. He took one step before nearly eating dirt, and Millie and Moxxie grasped him under the armpits and hauled him through, the office the most welcome sight he’d ever seen.

“What happened?” Loona asked, fingers tightening around the Grimoire.

“It went badly,” Moxxie grunted. “Get the first aid kit.”

Loona didn’t argue.

________________

Well, he was definitely on too many painkillers to be fully healthy for the kid at this point considering how much it took to be anywhere near effective on him, but he wasn’t bleeding out, his hand wasn’t screaming at him anymore, and his shirt had probably gotten ruined by all the stretching out even before his side started bleeding all over it, so…

Okay, yeah, fuck trying to spin it, this just plain sucked shit-flavored asshole. Millie finished tying off the bandage around his hand as he sat in his chair and Moxxie paced around his office.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Come-” Blitzo coughed. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the chills were creeping back up everywhere the blood wasn’t still rushing to, and he couldn’t help but lean closer to Millie and her precious body heat. “-Come on, getting hurt in the field is just part of the job.”

“Yes, but you’re not thinking clearly anymore, and you’re risking-”

“I am so thinking clearly!” Setting aside the fact that if he blinked too much Moxxie duplicated himself again, but he wasn’t about to tell him that.

Moxxie continued as if he hadn’t spoken, rude little shit. “You’re risking yourself, both of us, and, yes, the baby!”

“Oh, and they’re the one that matters here.” Blitzo rolled his eyes, but Moxxie folded his arms, tail swaying like a pendulum and nails drumming on his bicep.

“I know that your feelings about this are mixed, but I would never forgive myself if you went out there and got both of you killed because you’re a stubborn jackass.”

“He’s right,” Millie added.

“Don’t you dare team up on me,” Blitzo snarled, lead settling in the pit of his stomach as Millie stood up, drying her hands off with the towel borrowed from the bathroom- they were going to have to replace that. It had been white with little galloping horses around the bottom, and they were all so covered in black now that you couldn’t even see them anymore. He knew from experience that imp blood never came out of white fabric no matter how hard you scrubbed.

“We will if we have to- I’d do the same for anybody,” Millie said, balling the towel up and dropping it on the desk. “You lasted a lot longer than most people would, but there’s no shame in taking some time off so you don’t end up killin’ the little one before they even get a chance to see the world.”

“What about me, huh? Don’t I get a say in this? This is my company!” He shoved himself off the chair, but Millie pushed him back down. Her hand burnt where it touched his chest.

“C’mon, Blitzo, you need to be resting- I care about you, alright? Both’a us do.”

“Oh, sure, that's why you're not letting me make my own decisions as a grown-ass man." He narrowed his eyes.

“If we didn’t, we’d just let you go out and get yourself killed by the next target who has a gun,” Moxxie retorted. “I’m not going to let you drag all of us down with you, and I’m not going to keep working out in the field with you if you’re going to be a liability!”

“Are you threatening to quit?” Blitzo tried to get up again, and again Millie pushed him back down- far easier than she should have been able to, but if it was the blood loss or the baby weight was anybody’s guess.

“Of course not- maybe? I don’t know!” Moxxie rubbed his forehead. “I just-”

Millie shifted over to him, squeezing his shoulders. “We get what you mean, honey.” She turned back to Blitzo. “I know you wanna always do your best and work hard for IMP, and I’ve got nothing but praise for that, but-”

“But nothing! I can do this, end of story!”

Millie raised an eyebrow, taking a few steps back towards him and poking Blitzo right where she’d just wrapped the gunshot wound, and he couldn’t hold back a pained whine. “Suuuuure you can.”

“If you insist on still coming to work, just-” Moxxie sucked in a breath. “Just take over Loona’s job. Maybe she can help us, but Millie and I handled things fine when you were gone, we can keep things running.”

“Like hell you can!” Icy hands squeezed at his chest as Millie patted his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do everything alone, Blitzo.”

He smacked her hand away. “Don’t tell me I’m useless, I don’t need your fucking pity-”

“But you do need us,” Millie replied. “We want to help, isn’t that enough? There’s only another month and a half or so until they’ll be here, after all. You've got a lot to get sorted, and it's the least we can do.”

Blitzo just stared with wide eyes as his knifed hand screamed with every minute twitch of the nerves and tendons within. Moxxie raised an eyebrow with his arms crossed, and Millie considered the towel on the desk before dropping it in the trash. It left behind little splatters of his blood on the polished oak as he gritted his teeth.

“Fuck both of you.”

(Which meant, unfortunately, ‘you win for now’, and it was only because he was about to pass out in his chair.)

[losers-yurio]

Road Trip With the Crue

Mick x Reader 

the guys show up at your house with a weekend of fun planed 

i honestly have no idea what this is-

and also warning bc its probably shit

But The first issue arose when loud banging on the door brought your attention to the front of the house. “Okay okay I'm coming calm yourself!” so both Mick and you lazily made your way to the door,  it wasn't that unsurprising when you were met with the faces of your three idiotic friends. “Goddamnit, you three what part of ‘for the love of all that is holy please don't bother us this weekend’ did you not understand” although we had woken up a few hours prior, it was evident from his voice that Mick was still exhausted. Though you couldn't tell for sure if this was because he wanted to go back to bed or if the sudden appearance of his three band members had annoyed him, from prior experience you were almost certain that it was the second option you definitely understood why he was upset though, with all of the shows him and the guys had been doing the two of you hadn't really been able to spend much time together so this weekend was supposed to be catching up on all of the lost time. While on the one hand you absolutely adore Mick’s friends you were quite looking forward to your weekend together as well. “Well haven't heard why we’re here yet” Vince protested in an almost childlike manner.“Nope, not interested” stated in his usual monotone voice as he began to close the door, in response you reached your left arm out in front of him to stop the door from closing.  He gave me an eye roll but said nothing more “now what were you boys going on about?”  And so the guys (mostly Vince being the loudmouth that he is) told you about their plan which was as followed, the five of you were to leave at ten(which was horrible planning considering it was already nine) then stop at the nearest gas station for snack and drink essentials, from there you had a three-hour drive down to the amusement park. “No way, absolutely not” you looked over at mick who had a worried expression on his face,  “guys we just need a minute to pack if that's alright” the three men nodded as I shut the door. “What, why not?” he looked at you with confusion  “what happened to a nice quiet weekend at home?” “But when was the last time we went out for something other than a gig?” “I could say the same for staying home” “oh please Mick it could be fun!” “and if it isn't?” “ then I owe you big time” It wasn't long before we finished gathering what we needed for the trip and had packed it into the back of the van. While it was the band's van you really couldn't trust Vince, Nikki, or especially Tommy with the task of driving and Mick got to sit in the front because of his back issues. Tommy and Nikki were sitting together in the middle and Vince was in the very back with the luggage. Luckily the gas station wasn't that far from the house so we arrived in no time at all, the other three went inside to get the snacks which in hindsight was a terrible idea but hey they needed to get a bunch of moving around in before being cooped up. I had gotten out to refill the tank so we wouldn't have any issues on the road, which surprisingly didn't take very long so I had more time to talk with Mick.

“Are you really sure about this? We can just ditch now and walk home” there was a touch of amusement on his face as you looked at him “I'm sure, besides don't you think they'll just come and pester us at the house?” “we’ll just ignore them” you laughed and shook your head slightly Before I could say anything else the rest of the guys were hopping back into the van with a bunch of bags “for the lame-os,” Nikki said as he handed us two water bottles with a slight smile “I hope for your sake this isn't all you got for us bassist” Mick’s cold look had returned to his face “ um no of course not” I looked over to see a small smirk on Mick's face, what a man.

The trip was pretty smooth considering the party in attendance, with only 3 hours left I was honestly ready for the trip to be over. Both Nikki and Tommy were passed out, Vince was jamming quietly as to not wake the boys, upfront Mick had pulled out a book of his that he had been reading. At Least everything had been going well until the van sputtered to a stop. “Hey Y/N everything okay up there?”  “Yeah Vin I think so, well actually..” “what happened?” by now Mick had looked up from his book “ well we’re out of gas” “huh that's weird I thought we just got some” “yeah I thought so too” you reached around and nudged the two sleeping men “huh what” Tommy answered groggily, “I thought I had the two of you fill-up the tank” “ I certainly wasn't, I thought Nikki did,” he said in an accusatory tone “well I thought you did it” “oh for the love of- you know what it's fine since this is both of your faults both of you get to walk the three miles back to the gas station” “fine” “and no distractions!” “you know we can't promise anything!” Tommy called back “idiots” mumbled Mick and you smiled

After about twenty minutes Mick started shifting more in his seat and making small grunting noises “hey are you good?” “yeah just my back acting up again, do you know where we put the other bottle of pills?” “I think it was in the backpack” a quiet “on it!” came from the back as Vince tossed the bag to me “thanks Vin”. “ um Mick they aren't in here” “ah damn I knew I forgot something” “hey its okay ill look for a drug store as soon as we get to the hotel and we can look for some store-brand pain killers” “ah ok, I just wish the guys would come back already” “I'm sure they'll be back soon” which wasn't entirely a lie as the two of them turned up ten minutes later with a full gas can and Tommy with suspiciously red lips. “And what kind of fun did you two get into?” “oh you know the usual” Tommy replied with a smirk “okay jus- just get in the van, Mick’s having back issues” “ah sorry man if it helps we got candy” “ill except it”

And so we were off once more. Thankfully Mick was able to fall asleep so he was able to get relief even if it was for just a couple hours. By the time you reached the motel, it was already dark out so you got the guys checked in and rushed over to the pharmacy with Mick for painkillers which was difficult until the guy realized you genuinely needed them. Then on the way back to the hotel to rest up the two of you were walking through the parking lot when some guy started yelling ”Hey old man hearing the noise both Nikki and Vince emerged from their shared room. Seeing what was happening Nikki immediately Joined the fray “Hey man that's totally not cool” “Yeah? And what are you going to do about it ninnyhammer?” “listen I have no idea what that means and I'm sure it was bad but regardless you said some shit about my guitarist and we can't have that now can we”  you didn't see it coming but by the time you realized Nikki’s fist was already colliding with the guys face and he was being pulled to the ground. Immediately you rushed over to help tear them apart from each other. With the help of Vince, you managed to pull them apart “while I do appreciate the thought I would kill you if we got kicked out because we don't have anywhere else to go” The five of us ended up having a wonderful time at the park with no more incidents. In the morning we left bright and early much to the guy's dismay. Somewhere along the way, Vince had convinced me to let him drive and I promptly passed out for the rest of the trip. I awoke parked in our driveway with the guys talking “oh come on Mick, please? We’re still exhausted ``''Well that sounds like a you problem, not a me problem``'' what's the matter, guys?” “don't you dare ask them you know they'll say yes” “can we stay over for a few hours to catch up on some sleep?” “ of course you can, just don't cause any trouble” from your view Mick appeared to be rolling his eyes and the rest were high fiving. It was an odd bunch of people but they were your idiots and you wouldn't trade them for anything.

taglist: @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife​

[babyboy-bangtan]

By Chance Chapters 1-4

A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS's radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.

✚ Pairing: Sub!BTS/Female Reader ✚ Word Count: 3.3K ✚ Rating: M ✚ Warnings: None for now. ✚ A/N: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner.  Read on AO3

Chapter 1:  Before

Beep. Beep. Beep.

No.

Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep.

Absolutely not.

Beep beep beep beep beep!

Jesus Christ, fine.

You groan and grab your phone from your bedside table, turning off the alarm. It's not possible or even logical, but you really feel the big 5:00 A.M. on your lock screen is making fun of you.

You really want to die.

As you take a deep breath and pull the covers off of you, you get angry at your own stupidity last night. You had no business staying up until 1 a.m. watching Netflix knowing very well you had to be on the makeup chair at 6, but you went and watched a show anyway.

Actually, no, scratch that. This is Netflix's fault. It's their fault for making it so that you want to binge their goddamn shows. You're merely a victim of a very successful streaming platform.

You should sue them. 

Well, once you're done filming your movie for them, that is. Once you're done with the movie and the promotion for it you'll sue them for robbing you of your precious sleep, because that's unforgivable, despicable, heinous, wretched—

Before you can continue with your methodical planning of the lawsuit you're going to throw into Netflix's face for making you stay up late at night and then get up early to film their movie, your phone ringing pulls you out of your angry thoughts.

It's your stylist calling.

Right, you asked her to call you because you were not sure you weren't gonna sleep through the five alarms you set for this morning— but against all odds, you actually woke up with the first one.

"Good morning. I promise I'm up." You reassure her before she can say anything. "I'm gonna shower soon."

"That's fine." She laughs. "I'm just calling cause you told me to last night."

"I knoow." You drawl out. "I was worried I'd ignore the alarms. But I'm up. No worries."

"Alright then. See ya in a bit, dude."

"Byeeeeeee!" You say, throwing your phone into your bed after hanging up.

Your bed, the love of your life. So soft, so inviting, so beautiful and ready to keep you comfortable for as long as you need it to. Except you need to be sitting on the makeup chair at 6, so no more bed for today. You take a deep breath and walk to the bathroom, as ready as you can be to star the day after only getting 4 hours of sleep.

"Good morning Timmy." You greet your costar with a kiss on the cheek. 

"Good morning to you too." He says, biting back a smile. "You didn't sleep well, did you?"

"I have a right to remain silent." You reply, taking a sip of your coffee before walking past him. He catches up to you quickly. "Did you sleep well?"

"I got up at 5 a.m. so, of course not." He says, rolling his eyes at you. "I got like 5 hours of sleep only."

"Ha!" You say, stopping as you grip the handle of the makeup trailer's door. "I slept 4. I win."

Once you're both on your makeup chairs, you laugh as quietly as you can when you notice Timotheé dozing off while his hair is brushed, and you grab your phone to distract yourself. You can't really sleep when you're sitting up even if the fact that your stylist is working on your hair is really relaxing you, so you might as well try to get a bit more awake than you are now. 

While you're telling her about the interesting article you just read, your phone vibrates in your hand, interrupting you. You quickly open the text when you see is from one of your friends, thinking that if she messaged you at 6 a.m. then it must be something important.

Or... maybe not. What you got instead of an important text is what you're pretty sure is a screencap of a Buzzfeed headline.

DID [Y/N] REALLY MEET BTS WITHOUT ANYONE OF US KNOWING?

You absolutely did not. You'd definitely remember meeting the most famous boy band in the world.

You quickly type a response.

      Lmao no I didn't       What's that about?

It only takes her a moment to reply.

      It's just clickbait but it's like a thing right now       People went nuts thinking you'd met BTS       Because someone uploaded a video to youtube called [Y/N] BTS       But it was just a behind the scenes video       But then this tweet went viral

She then sends you another screencap, this time of a tweet with over 100k likes that's quoting another tweet with a video you recognize as the behind the scenes video you filmed for your last movie.

When you think [Y/N] met BTS but the BTS actually stands for Behind The Scenes 🤡

You actually laugh at that.

      😂😂😂 my god       Thanks for keeping me up to date with news about myself

She quickly responds.

      No prob, Bob. Also you were trending on Twitter on #1 and #2 because of it       Now you're like below the 7th but i got proof

She then sends you another picture, this time of the trending topics list. There it is at number 1, "[Y/N] BTS" and at number 2 is just your name. Below that one it's BTS alone.

As far as you know, BTS and kpop fans have the power to make anything trend on Twitter, so you're not that surprised to see they got you trending because they thought you'd met them. You're a bit surprised about the fact that it was over a complete misunderstanding, but stranger things have gone viral in the past and they will continue to do so in the future.

You wish your friend good luck at work today before you start telling your stylist about what just happened, and she just rolls her eyes and complains about people making news out of literally nothing nowadays. You agree completely— this isn't even the first time you are trending on twitter because of something silly— so you just drop the subject and go back to talking to her about the article you read. However, the thought of meeting BTS stays at the back of your mind for some reason.

You've only heard a couple of their most popular songs, which were admittedly very good and enjoyable, but you'd be lying if you didn't admit you'd love to meet them soon. They're huge right now, and even though you wouldn't call yourself a fan considering you don't even know all their names, you still recognize how incredible their journey has been and how talented they are.

Well, that and the tiny detail that every single one of them is absolutely stunning.

Chapter 2:  Jungkook

"Who's [Y/N]?" Jungkook asks suddenly with a little frown as he sits on the floor after dance practice, scrolling through his phone. He's sure he has heard your name before, but he doesn't really know anything about you.

"Uhh... isn't she an American actress?" Namjoon replies, downing half of his water bottle. "I think I saw one of her movies. A period drama. She's pretty good." He pauses. "Why?"

"[Y/N] BTS is trending on Twitter." He replies, reading through some of the most popular tweets about it. "Apparently there was a misunderstanding with a video." He shrugs, opening the video in question.

It's you wearing one of those 19th century dresses, but the effect is lost because the fact that you're wearing a modern coat and sunglasses. If he understood you correctly over the awful sound quality, you were on the first day of shooting.

"What are you watching?" Hoseok asks, standing behind him.

"The video people thought was of her with us. It's a behind the scenes video of her movie." He replies absent-mindedly, focused on his phone. "I think it's from the one you watched, Hyung." He tells Namjoon, looking up at him.

You seem to be at a dance practice now, with who he assumes was your costar. It looks like some kind of waltz, and you both seem to be already good at it— there's no way this is the first time you're rehearsing it. Suddenly, the man flips you around gracefully and presses his front to your back in what Jungkook assumes was meant to be an intimate moment, but only a second later you start twerking and then everyone is laughing.

Him, too.

"Come on, we have to go." Hoseok says, tapping his shoulder.

"I'm coming." Jungkook replies, still watching the video even as he stands up. "She's funny." He says to the rest, occasionally looking up to make sure he doesn't run into a wall.

"What did you say happened with her?" Jimin asks, massaging his shoulder with a grimace.

"Apparently someone uploaded a behind the scenes video of one of her movies but since it said BTS people thought it was about her meeting us."

If Jimin— or anyone else for that matter— cared about his response, Jungkook didn't realize. He clicks on the next suggested video and keeps watching, not paying attention to anyone else. It's during his viewing of that video that Jungkook decides he'll watch the movie Namjoon mentioned as soon as he gets free time to do so, and then he'll see what other movies you've done to see if anything interests him.

The fact that you're beautiful and when you smile his tummy feels tingly has absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

Chapter 3:  Jimin

The thought of the video Jungkook mentioned at dance practice comes back to Jimin all of a sudden late at night, when his mind is restless and the painkillers haven't eased the ache of his shoulder just yet. He can't sleep, so he might as well distract himself a little until they kick in.

He doesn't remember your name correctly; he misspells it several times until he just searches "Actress behind the scenes video mistaken bts band" and several recent articles appear.

[Y/N], that's right. That was your name. The names he'd been trying weren't even remotely similar.

He opens one article just for the sake of it— it's a very clickbait-y one, but he figures it's likely all of them will be— and starts reading an unnecessary long version of what happened. The gist of the article is what Jungkook already said: people confused a behind the scenes video of your movie with a video that involved them, and it went viral.

There are other suggested articles about you at the end of the one he just read, and one specifically catches his attention.

"[Y/N] gets bold on new Vogue Magazine interview: 'Gender roles are such bulls**t.'"

He quickly opens the original article instead of the mess he's sure is the one on the clickbait site, and he can't hold back a gasp at the picture of you that appears in front of him.

He figures he shouldn't be surprised considering what year it is and how normal it is to see women in suits nowadays, but he can't help but get his breath taken away when he sees a woman wearing one. He doesn't know what it is, and it's not really every suit on every woman that does it either— but the one you're wearing on that photo definitely fits the bill.

Your hair is purposefully messy— the kind of messy that can only be achieved by having a hair stylist work on you for a considerable amount of time, he knows that very well— and your face is covered in natural-looking makeup.

Except for your eyes. They did a beautiful job with them.

You are most certainly not wearing a bra and he knows that the fact that it's just noticeable enough is also very intentional, and there's something about the pose you're doing that is making his palms sweat.

Chin tilted up.

Eyes half lidded, looking down.

Mouth slightly open.

White dress shirt, with just two buttons undone.

He almost wishes you'd gone for another one as well, so your cleavage would be visible.

Almost.

The picture is perfect as it is. Can't be improved by anything.

The quote on the clickbait site isn't even the most interesting part of the article; you talk about leaving social media because the pressure of making sure people liked you affected your mental health, about going to therapy since you were a teenager, and about how annoyed you were a couple years ago when the movement #AskHerMore was in full swing and you still felt reduced to only the way you looked at the Oscars, where a movie you were in was nominated. If Jimin understands correctly, a video of you looking very annoyed at the questions went viral.

"It was very frustrating," The quote begins. "because on one hand you had what was supposed to help the interviewers realize that you want to talk more about the movie you worked so hard on, but so many of them simply didn't care. I guess what really got to me was that there were people saying that women get asked about their looks because their dresses are so beautiful and of course people notice them, but I was wearing the most generic black suit you've ever seen. And still they kept calling me bold and chic and other things just cause I had fu**ing pants on."

He opens a new tab and quickly types "[Y/N] Oscars suit outfit" before he even realizes what he's doing.

And there it is: the same feeling he got a few minutes ago when he saw the first picture of you.

Breathless, palms sweaty.

He scrolls through the image results, opening and looking at related pictures of you in suits from other events. It seems that it's a preferred outfit for you along with jumpsuits, and there's an occasional dress now and then.

He sighs and goes back to the article to finish it and look at the rest of the pictures from the Vogue session.

"It doesn't just happen to me." You say in another quote. "There are other women who wear suits and it gets treated like some kind of big deal when they're just clothes. And men have it way, way worse. At least we can wear a suit normally but if men want to wear dresses or skirts or even clothes that deviate from what so many people consider masculine, they'll have people criticizing them and disrespecting them in horrible ways. They're just pieces of fu**ing fabric! Gender roles are such bulls**t."

Jimin smiles at that, and at the fact that the writer of the piece comments that you get very passionate when talking about such things. He likes it.

A big yawn interrupts his train of thought, and he realizes his shoulder hasn't been bothering him for a little while now. He leaves his phone on his nightstand and gets comfortable under the covers, thinking it would be nice if they had actually met you, instead of it only being just a misunderstanding.

Maybe one day.

Chapter 4:  Jin

Because Jin is sitting next to Jungkook inside the van, he can't really help but be distracted by the videos the younger has been watching nonstop on his phone. As it has been for the past couple of weeks, he's watching another one of your interviews. 

It's astoundingly obvious to everyone that Jungkook has developed a crush on you.

"You're still watching videos of her?" Jin asks, but the taunting tone in his voice goes completely over Jungkook's head. He's too focused on the video.

"Yes. Do you want to watch?" Jungkook asks, offering an earphone for him innocently. Jin finds it impossible to resist the cuteness so he accepts it, taking it from his hand and putting it on as he wraps his arm around Jungkook's shoulders.

It's an interview, and you're sitting next to an actor he doesn't recognize.

"Who's that?" He asks Jungkook, pointing at the guy.

"I don't know." Jungkook shrugs, truly not caring even a tiny a bit about who the man is. 

"Okay." Jin replies, shaking his head at Jungkook with a smile. There's really good chemistry between you and the man— you laugh together a lot, and he feels a spark of recognition at the back of his mind when he sees your smile, but he can't tell where it comes from.

"Have you seen their movie?" Jin asks, returning the earphone to its owner. Jungkook nods as he puts it back on.

"It's very good. I liked it."

So he has seen the movie, but he still doesn't know who the actor is at all? There might be a possibility that the crush is a bit more intense than Jin previously believed.

"What else has she worked on?" He pries, wondering if he's confusing you with someone else or if maybe he did see something you were on, even if it was in passing. There's something familiar about you and it's starting to annoy him to not know what exactly.

"Lots of things. Several movies. She was on a show when she began acting. I think her first job was on CSI or one of those American crime shows with a thousand seasons." Jungkook focuses on his video again and Jin pulls out his own phone, quickly searching for your name.

He opens your Wikipedia page and goes straight to Filmography, where he can see right there on the Television section that your first credit is actually CSI.

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

2013.

Oh, no.

The name of your character. Jin knows it. God, he'd recognize it anywhere. The name of the episode right next to it only serves to confirm what he's fearing.

He immediately types "[Y/N] CSI" and swallows a gasp when he sees the pictures that pop up in front of his eyes, careful to not alert Jungkook or the others.

Oh god, no.

Jin knows who you are very well.  He hasn't really watched the episode you appeared on in a while, but he used to do it so often that he memorized exactly what happens every single second you're on screen.

Your hair was a different color and you were younger—  that's why he didn't immediately recognize you. Back when you were on that episode it was futile to try and search for more of your work; CSI was your first role and he couldn't find any information about you at the time. He didn't really search for you again after that; he was very aware that shows like that have hundreds of guest actors that sometimes end up reduced to extras for the rest of their careers.

Well, this was clearly not the case for you.

The memories of the scenes he knows so well flash quickly on his mind, and he swallows with slight difficulty as he feels his ears getting hot.

Your hand is wrapped around the guy who plays your boyfriend's throat— and without showing too much it's clear you're on top of him while you have sex. His hands are tied with a scarf to the bed, and he's blindfolded.

"You like that, baby?" You whisper into the man's ear with a smile, biting his earlobe.

Jin shakes his head, trying to get rid of the very intrusive thought of you lovingly choking a guy during sex. He's in a van with the rest of the guys, the last thing he wants is for them to notice something is wrong.

He closes all the tabs and puts his phone away, moving his head to look out the window instead, hoping the sight of the buildings and streets will distract him. He's glad the whole BTS thing was a misunderstanding and you didn't actually meet them, because he has no idea how he'd react if he had you in front of him in real life.

How do you possibly greet the person you used to masturbate to on a daily basis?

If you’ve made it here: thank you so much for reading!

[apoguecalledjj]

Fixation (Chapter 3)

Series summary: Eleanor is new to the outer banks, and the pogues are quick to take her in. But so are the kooks, and as she grows closer with Rafe, trouble emerges. Trying to balance her relationship with the pogues and the kooks, as well as dealing with her own personal problems, Eleanor falls into a hole she may not be able to dig herself out of.

Chapter Word Count: 3632

Chapter Warnings: Mentions drug use, addiction and abuse

Previous Parts: Ch. 1 Ch. 2  Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

The first morning Ellie had woken up next to Rafe, it felt like she was in heaven. His arm draped lazily over her, shirtless in just his sweatpants that he had pulled on after their wild night. Her wearing just his t-shirt, gazing at him lazily as she blinked away the sleep that was still fighting to consume her.

This morning, it did not feel like heaven. Rafe was still asleep, his arms wrapped lightly around her from behind, her back pressed against his chest. It should have been perfect, Ellie had always craved physical affection and adored the feeling of being held.

But her head was pounding, and she still felt drowsy, no matter how hard to tried to wake herself up. Unlike last night, when she had felt alive, full of energy and alert, she now felt lazy. She had no desire to move, her body not feeling up for even getting out of bed. 

Yet, despite the way Ellie currently felt, which she knew without a doubt was caused by the cocaine, she still found herself longing for the way she had felt last night. The feeling that had pulsed through her was one she had no idea how to replicate without the substance. She wanted to feel it again. The previous night she hadn’t had a care in the world, letting loose with Rafe and having a better time than she had ever had at any party. She wanted to feel it again.

The desire for the drug pushed away the thoughts in her head, the ones scolding herself for even trying it in the first place. She mentally yelled at herself, a part of her knowing that this was the start of an addiction and she was going down the same path as her mom. But the desire pushed it away, instead convincing herself that everything would be fine and she knew what she was doing.

Rafe slowly awakened, his arms stretching slightly around her as he suppressed a yawn. “Good morning,” He mumbled, sleepiness evident in his voice.

“Morning.” Ellie rolled over so she was facing the boy, groaning slightly at the pain in her head. Rafe, without even having to ask what was wrong, leaned over and grabbed a bottle of painkillers from the nightstand, handing them to her with a smile. She swallowed them dry, not having the energy to go retrieve some water. 

They laid in bed silently for a while, Rafe quietly humming as he drifted in and out of light sleep, and Ellie scrolling through her social media on her phone. Eventually, the medicine kicked in and the pain in her head subdued.

“Do you wanna hang out with me and my friends today? We haven’t spent much time together out of this room,” Rafe teased, tearing Ellie away from the world of Instagram on her phone.

She nodded, eager to meet the boys that he talked about so frequently. Plus, even though she enjoyed the pogues, she knew her uncle would be ecstatic to hear of her hanging out with kooks. “Do you mind if I shower?” She asked, knowing she probably didn’t look or smell the greatest.

“Of course.” Rafe motioned towards his bathroom door. “You can shower in there, I’ll go to the guest bathroom.” He climbed out of bed and left the room, coming back shortly after with two bottles, shampoo and body wash. “This is Sarah’s, thought you’d rather smell like watermelons than my body wash.”

Ellie made her way to the shower, twisting the handle more towards the cold instead of the hot she normally tended to enjoy. Standing under the cold water helped to wake her body up, exactly what she needed after the way she had felt this morning.

She made her way back to the bedroom, Rafe already finished showering and waiting for her on the bed. She thought she had been quick, but obviously not.

“Ready?” He asked, tossing his phone down on the bed next to him. He moved towards the mirror, fiddling with his air even though it was already styled and slicked back.

Ellie nodded, grabbing her bag from where it had been discarded hastily last night by the door. She followed Rafe to his truck. “So what’re the plans for today?” She inquired once they were on the road, his windows rolled down slightly and the wind blowing through her hair.

He glanced at her briefly before looking back at the road. “We’re meeting up with Topper and Kelce, the two that were with me at the party. Probably just gonna spend the day at Kelce’s, but Top has a pool so we might go over there too.”

Ellie just hummed in response, she hadn't learned much about the two boys from their brief meeting the other night, but they seemed alright. Plus, it was nice to branch out, back in West Virginia she hadn't been close with many, and the opportunity for loads of friends in the Outer Banks was exciting.

The rest of the drive was mainly silent, Rafe and Ellie weren't the greatest at conversation, the little time they had spent together already had been filled with kisses and sex (and snorting coke, apparently), making them usually too busy for talking.

It was odd for Ellie, she was a talkative person and easily fell into conversation with everyone. But for some reason, silence with Rafe was almost more comforting, and she didn't mind it.

His right hand left it's place on the wheel, making its way to her thigh. The touch was unexpected, they had only known each other a couple of days and aside from their hookups, there hadn't been much else between them. Even so, Ellie didn't mind, she enjoyed the feeling of his palm on her bare thigh, just under the hem of her shorts, and she rested her hand on top of his.

Eventually, they pulled up to a house. She could see the two boys from the party sat in the front yard, Topper wearing sunglasses and leaned back in his lawn chair, Kelce sat forward with a glass in her hand. Rafe sounded the horn, causing Topper, who was back on to the driveway, to jump, and she giggled at his reaction. Rafe looked at her from the corner of his eye, watching her as she laughed.

He admired her, which was weird for him. He'd felt this way about a couple of girls before, but it didn't happen often, and it usually took longer than a couple of days. Watching her laugh, Rafe felt happy, something he didn't feel very often. He knew, at that moment that he would do whatever he could to not lose this girl.

They got out of the truck and made their way over to the two boys. After some introductions, even though the two boys and Ellie technically knew each other, the four teenagers easily fell into conversation. Ellie found herself laughing and smiling, listening closely every time Rafe spoke. She's never seen him so talkative, and she enjoyed it, listening to him joke and chat with his friends.

“Let’s go swimming,” Kelce suggested after about an hour of just sitting around, day drinking, and talking.

“Alright, let’s head to my house then,” Topper said, a mutual agreement between the boys that they were going swimming in the pool.

Ellie spoke up. “Actually, could we go to the beach? I’ve never been swimming in the ocean.”

The three boys were shocked at her confession. “Are you serious? You’ve never been swimming in the ocean?” Rafe repeated.

She shook her head. “Rafe, I hadn’t seen the ocean until I got on the ferry to come here.”

So the plans were quickly changed, and after the boys changed in the house, they began the short walk to the beach. Ellie didn’t have a bathing suit, but bra and underwear were basically the same thing anyway, and frankly, she didn’t give two shits.

The minute they hit the sand her shoes were kicked off, sand flying up behind her as she ran towards the water. She dipped her toes in slowly and let out a shriek. “It’s cold!”

She quickly peeled off her shirt and shorts, Rafe letting out a whistle as she stripped on the beach. She flipped him off behind her as she ran into the water, too excited to care. Sure, her thong didn’t leave much to the imagination, but it still covered more than some of her bikinis.

Ellie stood up to her waist in water, not wanting to go further until she was used to the temperature. But she didn’t hear Rafe sneaking up behind her until his arms wrapped around her.

“Rafe!” She squealed as he picked her up. He reached down to squeeze her butt quickly before beginning to rock her, threatening to throw her in. “Rafe no!”

The last thing she saw was the smirk on his face, Kelce and Topper laughing behind him as her body hit the water. The cold shocked her, but it also felt nice, and she fought to open her eyes, wanting to see the ocean floor. 

Ellie submerged, shooting a playful glare at Rafe. She quickly splashed him, but that resulted in Kelce getting splashed too as he was now standing by Rafe. “Hey!” He yelled, not hesitating to splash her back.

Ellie liked Kelce. He was nice, and she got along well with him. They had immediately clicked, and she could see herself becoming close friends with him.

The three boys continued to flick water towards her. “Hey! This isn’t fair, it’s three against one!” Suddenly an idea popped in her head and she dove under the water, swimming so that she was behind Kelce. She jumped on his back, pumping her fist in the air. “AHA! Can’t get me without getting Kelce!”

But her plan had failed because Topper and Rafe didn’t care about Kelce. The battle was now two against one, Kelce cursing her as she jumped back into the water to help him. She stuck out her tongue playful, having more fun than she had in a while.

Ellie was too distracted to notice four figures walking along the beach. Pope stopped and shielded his eyes, looking out towards the water. “Hey, isn’t that Ellie?”

The other three pogues stopped to look. She was now sat on Rafe’s shoulders, the three ganged up against Kelce. “Yup,” Kie said.

JJ turned and started to walk away, huffing as his hands balled into fists. “Whatever guys. Come on. She obviously enjoys the kooks more.”

John B jogged to keep up with the angry blond. “Woah, bro calm down. Just cause we hate the kooks don’t mean she has to. She looks like she’s having a good time. Be happy that she’s fitting in well here.”

“Yeah, having a great time with them half-fucking-naked,” JJ mumbled, still walking quickly away. The first thing he had noticed was that instead of a bathing suit, she was in a lacy bra and thong set.

“JJ. Chill,” John B said, still trying to calm him down. Kiara and Pope had caught up at this point, the three pogues glancing between each other at JJ’s weird reaction.

“She’s with fucking kooks, John B! They’ll make her never want to hang out with us again.”

“JJ, do you have a crush?” Kiara teased gently.

“Shut up.” Was the only response she got.

~~~

The next day, after a long shift at The Wreck, Ellie decided to text JJ. It was a beautiful day, and she decided she wanted to go surfing if JJ was willing to teach her.

JJ quickly responded, agreeing to meet her at the beach in an hour. He was still upset after seeing her with the kooks, but he knew that he had no right to be mad and he wasn’t going to turn down a chance to be alone with Ellie.

Ellie rushed home, showering and changing before grabbing a board that her aunt assured her she could borrow. She was a bit nervous to surf for the first time, but she was also excited to see JJ for the first time in a couple of days.

Once she got to the beach, JJ was already there, lying down on his board. “Hey JJ!” She called, trying to run down to meet him but struggling because of the board under her arm.

He sat up and turned to face her. “Hey, El.”

Ellie finally reached him and sat down. “El? That’s a new nickname. No one calls me that.”

JJ smiled at her. “Guess it’ll be just for me to use then.”

Ellie smiled, her cheeks turning slightly pink, though she wasn’t sure why. JJ noticed, and the smirk on his face grew. “Come on El, let’s get started.”

Ellie nodded, standing up to pull off her shirt and shorts to reveal her red bikini. JJ couldn’t help but stare, the girl looked like a goddess. He had seen many girls, wearing much less than a bikini, but none of them had caused the reaction that Ellie did.

The deep red of her bathing suit complemented her skin perfectly. Usually, with girls, JJ wouldn’t spend too much time examining their bodies, but Ellie was different. He couldn’t stop looking at her, taking in all her perfections and imperfections. He noted how smooth her skin looked, how much he wanted to hold her. He eyed the slight stretch marks on her hips, wanting nothing than to rub his fingers gently over them and kiss them. Ellie was doing things to JJ, things he had never felt before.

“Enjoying the view?” Ellie giggled as she noticed the boy staring, striking a couple of dramatic poses causing him to laugh. One of the things Ellie was most proud of was her confidence, she loved her body and loved to flaunt it. It had taken her a long time to get to that place of self-love, so why shouldn’t she show it off?

“Obviously,” JJ smirked, knocked out of his deep thoughts about how beautiful Ellie was, and instead back to his usual, sarcastic self. “Ready to get started?”

They started on the sand, JJ teaching Ellie how to properly sit and stand on her board. Every time he would put his hands on her waist to help her or adjust her, her whole body would feel warm and she wasn’t entirely sure why. The only thing she knew for sure was that she enjoyed the feeling of JJ’s hands on her.

“Okay, I think we should go in the water.” Ellie nodded in agreement and JJ continued, “Let’s just get you used to paddling first. Then in a bit, we can try some waves. If you fall, don’t get discouraged, it takes a while to master surfing.”

JJ was surprised. After just a few falls, Ellie was surfing... And doing a damn good job at it for it being her first time. He watched as she rode the wave, her bottom lip gently held between her teeth as she concentrated on keeping her balance. She almost made it to the shore, tumbling at the end. She shot up and rushed towards JJ, a huge smile on her face.

“I did it! I did it, JJ! You’re the best teacher!”

He shook his head, amazed at the fact that she had caught on so quickly. “Holy shit, El. I’ve never seen someone do that good their first time.” He paused, contemplating whether or not to continue. “It took me a week to just stand up on the board without falling.” He knew Ellie was about to tease him, so he quickly added on, “I was six, by the way.”

Ellie sat on her board next to him, the two just letting their boards drift in the water. “I skateboard,” She told him. “Once I stood up on the board I realized it was pretty similar. I guess the skills transfer.”

“You any good at skateboarding?”

“Pro.” Ellie grinned. She had never got much time to skateboard back home, always too busy with her sister and schoolwork. But the time she did get, she cherished, and she hoped to have a lot more time at the hobby in the Outer Banks.

They laughed and joked for a bit, Ellie chuckling at all of JJ’s attempts to flirt. In reality, though, she enjoyed it, he knew what he was doing and even made her blush a few times.

“So have you ever had a boyfriend?” JJ asked, deciding to change the topic to learn more about the girl he hardly knew.

Ellie slowly shook her head. “No. Never had the time. More of a hookup kind of girl.”

JJ whooped and held up his hand for a high five. “Ay, me too!”

She giggled as JJ continued the interrogation. “Why didn’t you have the time? Are you super into school?”

Ellie sighed, knowing the conversation would eventually turn this way. “No, I did my homework but I didn’t spend much time at it. I just had to take care of my sister, my mom-” Ellie trailed off, staring anywhere but at JJ. “My mom couldn’t-She couldn’t-” But Ellie couldn’t get the words out. Her mom's addiction was the one thing in her life she struggled to talk about. It was also the one thing she didn’t want to follow her to the Outer Banks, but she found herself not wanting to keep the secret from JJ.

JJ noticed the tears rolling down her cheeks and moved closer to her. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to continue.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, careful not to knock her off her board.

“My mom’s a drug addict.” She finally blurted out, the tears coming much quicker now. “It runs in my family. My grandfather was an addict too. She just... My mom gave up on me. All she cares about is the fucking drugs and she basically abandoned me and my sister. Even though she never left the fucking house. The house that I had to try and pay for.” The words just started coming and she couldn’t get them to stop. She had never told all of this to someone, even though people knew, they never knew her true feelings.

She wasn’t sure why she decided to spill to JJ, but he was listening, and she felt like he cared. “I want to hate her, JJ. I want to hate her so bad. But I can’t, cause I love her. She’s my mom. And I’m scared. I don’t want to end up on the same path.” The reminder of the cocaine she had done popped in her brain but she pushed it away, not wanting to think about the mistake she made.

JJ didn’t move from where he was holding her, instead tightening his grip slightly. He thought about Rafe, wanted to warn her that he was also a drug addict and that she should stay away from him before something bad happened, but he decided against it. That wasn’t what she needed to hear right now, he’d tell her later.

“El I’m so sorry.” She didn’t respond, just sobbed slightly. “My dad’s an alcoholic,” He continued, and Ellie turned to face him, eyes wide with tears as she realized he was opening up to her as well. “When he gets drunk, he gets violent. He hits me.” JJ motioned to the various bruises littered around his torso. “Everyone thinks these are from fights with kooks, but they’re not. All from my piece of shit dad.

“He blames me for my mom leaving. She broke him when she left, and instead of accepting that he fucked up, he’d rather blame it on me. And I want to hate him, I know how you feel. But I can’t. Cause I love him.” He repeated her words, blinking away tears.

“I don’t want to end up like him,” He sobbed out. “But I’m already so violent. I get in fights all the time. What if I end up like him, El?”

“You won’t.” She whispered trying to comfort him.

He glanced up at her. “And you won’t end up like your mom, either.”

She knew that was wrong. She was already on her way. But she didn’t say anything, and instead, they sat in silence. Neither of them knew how long they stayed there, just floating in the water, but it felt nice. JJ’s arm had moved from her shoulder and was now holding her hand. Ellie had a huge weight lifted off of her. she finally told someone what she’d been wanting to say for years, and for once she could relax.

It was JJ who spoke first. “We should head in.” The two made their way back to the beach. Ellie put the board down, drying herself off before pulling her clothes back on.

“I’m heading to the chateau to hang with the others. Wanna come?” JJ offered.

She smiled. “Yeah, I would like that. But JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you not tell them what I just told you?”

“Of course El.” JJ picked up his board and then moved to pick up hers before she could. He started the walk up the beach, motioning with his head for her to follow. She watched him for a minute as he walked away before following him.

She wouldn’t admit it to herself, but she had a much better time with JJ than with Rafe. If her head wasn’t clouded with the thoughts of coke and the fact that Rafe was the one who had it, she might have even said she was falling for JJ.

And little did she know, JJ was falling for her too.

Taglist: @prejudic3 @margaritatimebaybee

Let me know if you want to me added to the taglist!!

[kirishwima]

can you write some headcannons for a mc that suffers from migraines and how the rfa would help her?

sure! i also get migraines and they’re so, so bothersome...honestly one of the worst kinds of pain, mainly bc of the photosensitivity orzsince you specified the pronouns i’ll be using she/her for this! ^^

YOOSUNG:

* MC never mentioned her migraines to him-it honestly just slipped her mind to do so

* So when Yoosung comes home to find MC laying on the couch, all the lights in the apartment turned off, a blanket over her head, he panicked

* He dashed to her, foregoing turning a light on and nearly tumbling over his dropped bag, as he kneeled beside MC’s face, pulling the blanket down despite her groans of complaint

* “MC? Hey, sweetie, no what’s wrong?!”

* When she explained that it’s something she gets frequently and how lights and noise make the pain even worse, he breathed a sigh of relief-seeing MC in pain was horirble, but he was glad at least it’s something she’s used to and not deathly serious

* He didn’t want to bother her too much with talking, but he did ask what he could do to help-anything MC wants, he’d do, just say the word!

* Like the good boyfriend he is, he gathered MC up in his arms and took her to the bedroom so she could rest better, making sure to shut all the blinds and lights in the room before doing so, setting her down gently on the bed as he tucked her in.

* He wanted to go back out to the living room and google on his phone tips to help ease migraines, but MC held his hand, mumbling a complaint as he made to leave. Yoosung turned, seeing MC mouth the words ‘stay’, and well, what sort of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t comply?

* He stayed beside MC, running a hand through her hair and gently massaging at her scalp until he felt her slowly fall asleep, continuing the ministration until he knew she wouldn’t rouse if he got up.

* He’s relieved to see her refreshed and better the next morning, albeit a bit drowsy-the pain did wake her multiple times, but he was there for her every time, and even got up at some point to make her some warm tea and bring some painkillers. She apologises for disturbing his sleep, and Yoosung rolls his eyes, flicking her nose teasingly.

* “You could never bother me MC-no matter what, being able to see you smile like this it’s always worth any effort!”

ZEN:

* MC had mentioned she frequently gets migraines, but so far into living with him, she hadn’t experienced any.

* That is until one night, Zen came home late from rehearsals, opening the door to their home and seeing all the lights in the place turned off.

* Figuring MC must already be in bed, he turned the lights to the living room on, only to stumble back in surprise as he heard MC’s groan from the couch, her complaint of “Turn it off please-ugh” making him instantly turn the lights back off.

* “Baby, what are you doing here? It’s late, you should be sleeping-and what’s up with the total darkness?”

* MC, unsurprisingly, wasn’t up for much talking. “Got a bad migraine. Everything hurts, lights hurt my eyes.”

* Zen nodded, his brow furrowed-he hated seeing his princess in pain. He remembered Jaehee, and how she oftentimes got migraines too, and how she said painkillers don’t really help, but compresses to the eyes and a good night’s rest do the trick most of the time.

* He rushed to the kitchen, closing the door behind him so the light wouldn’t bleed through to the living room, and started warming up water to make some lukewarm compresses with chamomile tea bags, making a cup of tea for MC to drink too if she’d be up for it.

* He walked back out to the living room and picked MC up in a princes-carry as the tea brewed, ignoring her complaints and taking her into the bedroom, placing her on the bed as he leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead.

* For the remainder of the night, Zen held MC close to him, singing a quiet lullaby, urging her to focus on his voice instead of the pain. Despite most noises making the migraines worse, Zen’s voice was deep yet soft, a gentle lull that made MC’s mind drift off and shift its’ attention away from the pain.

* In the morning he brought her a cup of tea in bed, and when she thanked him for the help the night before, he merely shrugged.

* “I’d do anything for you darling. Although, if you really want to thank me...” he tapped a finger to his lips, his smile devious, “I do take payment in kind”.

JAEHEE:

* She also gets migraines! She knows exactly how much they suck, so MC is definitely not alone in this

* (Fun fact: Women statistically suffer from migraines more than men do!)

* When working at the coffee shop with MC, she notices her wincing everytime she turns towards the industrial lights hung at the ceelings, how as the day progresses she starts to become distant, pressing her hands over her ears when the music becomes too loud for her to handle.

* Jaehee is instantly there for her, taking her to the backroom and dimming the lights, leaving only some light bleeding through the shutters of the windows so they could see their own footing at least. 

* “I’ll take care of everything outside. Rest for a bit, take these, and when you’re feeling up for it, we can close up early and go home together so you can get some proper rest, okay?”

* Jaehee brought her a pack of medicine from her bag-usual over-the-counter medications don’t work on migraines, so she had a prescription for a specific type of painkillers, and always had them in her bag just in case. She gave them to MC, making sure she took them before going back out to manage the shop, closing the door gently behind her as she let MC take a nap on the couch.

* Once the medicines kicked in and MC was feeling well enough to take the trip back home, Jaehee quickly locked up and held MC’s hand all the way back, giving MC a kiss on the temple when she winced in pain.

* Baehee’s got her MC covered-from cold compresses to soothing white noise, anything she needs to get through a shitty hangover, Jaehee’s got it-and MC couldn’t be more grateful.

* Later in the night, when MC’s half asleep with Jaehee running a hand through MC’s hair, she could’ve sworn she heard Jaehee hum a song-it was quiet, but there, her soft voice trailing into MC’s mind, bringing sweet dreams through the night.

JUMIN:

* He came home one evening after work, asking the bodyguards how MC was, and the answer freightened him- “MC has come home earlier from work sir, she was feeling unwell and has been resting in her room ever since.”

* Jumin tried to calm his frantic mind, taking slow steps to the bedroom as he gingerly opened the door. “My love-are you there?”

* MC’s groan in response made him frown. Was she that unwell? What happened? What could he do to help?

* He knew MC had frequent migraines-it’d happened before, and as panicked as he was that first time, he made sure to read up on everything he could about the issue, to know fully well how to handle it the next time it came around.

* When MC confirmed that it was yet another migraine, Jumin nodded, giving her a quick kiss on the temple before leaving the bedroom to let her rest.

* He’d only come back a few hours later to make sure she’d take her painkillers, and with a cup of black tea for her to drink even a little-he’d read that small doses of caffeine could actually help, and wanted to make sure she’d get some in her system.

* Overall he’s very calm and quiet-he dims the penthouse lights throughout so they won’t bother her, and whilst he’d usually put a vinyl on the pick-up for them to enjoy, he skipped it that night, settling instead to sit on the couch reading with Elizabeth the 3d besides him.

* At night he held MC close, letting her rest her head on his chest as he trailed his fingers across her back. She already seemed better, and he was thankful for it.

* Of course he’s the type of dude who’d go to a million different doctors asking if they can cure migraines, but the answer was always the same-you can’t cure migraines, there’s a hereditary predisposition towards them, you can only try to minimise the pain and avoid flare-ups, blah blah blah. He’d definitely fund a unit to research a cure to migraines regardless. Anything for his beloved.

SEVEN:

* He doesn’t get migraines, but staring at computer screens for hours on end everyday of the week does cause him to get very frequent headaches in general, so oftentimes both he and MC will be nursing a nasty pain, trying to help one another feel better in any way they can.

* They have a cabinet for painkillers in their kitchen, and have marked the stronger medications from the lighter ones with a red X, so they’ll know what to take when the pain becomes unbearable.

* When MC gets a migraine, he’ll turn all the lights off and dim his computer screen as much as possible-he doesn’t want to leave her alone during those times, but he also can’t completely abandon his work, so they both make do. She’ll usually lay on the couch and he’ll take frequent breaks to check up on her, or sometimes to just squeeze in beside her, holding MC close to him as he pretends to cast spells to take the pain away.

* MC loves when he runs his hands over her forehead and eyes-his hands are always freezing cold, and it’s a welcome soothing distraction from the pain to feel the coldness on her eyelids.

* He wishes he could do more, and does dive into the depths of the internet for advice-but he knows that what MC needs the most is just some comfort and quiet, so his usual cheery meme-ness is gone whilst MC is in pain. Instead he’ll whisper soothing encourangements, promising her dates and kisses as soon as she feels better.

* He’s just such a supportive boyfriend my dudes, give him a pat on the bad for his hard work pls

-send me a mystic messenger headcanon/prompt for characters reactions!-