#his apartment is tiny but the kitchen is where he put 100% of his life savings into

[bunnithechubs]

pov: you hate the apartment but you love the kitchen

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (43/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Getting ready for a party is always fun when the company is good.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst (body insecurity if you squint), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.5k

series masterlist

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A/N: cherry is still sick, but this needed to get out of my head. feedback is appreciated. love ya.

When Kika puts her bag on the living room table, it clinks suspiciously. 

“My goodness, did you bring half the supermarket with you?” you ask her with a grin, which develops into a loud laugh when Pierre puts down a huge bag next to the door. ”And you brought your whole wardrobe too.”

“Of course I did,” she smiles, kissing your left and right cheek. ”After all, I don't know what you're wearing, and I thought we could coordinate our outfits a little.”

Pierre puts an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. “I'm glad you only packed one bag,” he says, kissing her temple. “Please pick up the other stuff off the floor tomorrow. The bedroom looks like a battlefield.”

Kika rolls her eyes but snuggles up against him. “You love me.” She looks up at him with her huge brown eyes as he leans down to her. 

“I do,” he smiles against her lips, and the moment is so intimate that you leave them alone in the living room. 

Charles is standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen and smiles at you as you enter the room. “Everything okay?”

You nod and sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. "How long have they been together, by the way?”

“I think about two years," he replies, leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter behind him with his palms. ”They're cute, aren't they?”

“Absolutely,” you smile. "Almost a little too sweet. I fled the living room when I saw the way they looked at each other, like he was about to propose.”

Your roommate has to laugh. "You should see them together at a Grand Prix. A few drivers – myself included – have a bet on when he'll ask her to marry him.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Did you bet for money?” 

The Monegasque raises his coffee cup to his mouth and takes a sip. "Yup.”

“And what was the stake?”

Charles hesitates and avoids your gaze. "100€.”

A grin spreads across your face. ”Can I still join?”

Your friend raises his eyes and looks at you in wonder, but before he can say anything, Kika and Pierre enter the kitchen. Pierre now places the heavy bag, which had just clinked suspiciously, on the kitchen island. Not a second later, the Portuguese woman reaches into the opening and pulls out a bottle of wine. 

“Sweet,” she says and holds out the bottle for you to see. The brand doesn't look familiar, but the label is pink and the glass is a mint green, and the way your friend looks at you, you know exactly that you'll like the wine. 

You take two wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and place them in front of her. “And what are the boys drinking?”

Charles puts his hand to his chest in mock outrage. "Boys? Boys?" He shakes his head. "We're men.”

You wrinkle your nose and grin at him. "Since when?”

Your roommate walks around the kitchen island and wraps his arm around your neck to put you in a light headlock. He presses you against the counter in front of you with his big body and whispers in your ear. “Do you want me to show you again?”

“Please get a room.” Kika grins and pours the wine into your two glasses. 

Charles lets his arm slide from your neck to your collarbones, where it then remains. “You're in our apartment. You can just leave,” he replies annoyed, as if your friends' presence were preventing him from dragging you to the bedroom right now. Which maybe it is. But you don't want to think about that.

“Then I'll take this one back with me.” Kika reaches into her handbag again and pulls out another bottle, before placing it in front of you both. "For your beloved Moscow Mule.”

You don't need to look at the man behind you to know that he's grinning. "If you two ever break up, I'll keep Kika.”"

“Ouch,” Pierre says, pouting. "And I thought our friendship was more important to you than ginger beer.”

With his free hand, Charles grabs the bottle and lifts it up before smiling at the Frenchman. "I thought so too.”

“Okay, okay.“ Kika grabs her glass and the bottle of wine before looking at you. ‘You and I are going to get dressed up. You can play video games or something in the meantime." She kisses Pierre on the cheek before heading for the kitchen door.  ”You coming?”

You nod, but turn around in Charles' arms to look at him again. “What are you going to wear?”

Your friend shrugs. “I was thinking of a simple black button-down," he replies, raising his hand to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "Do you already have something in mind?”

You shake your head. ”Not really, no.”

Charles smiles gently at you before weaving his fingers through your hair before they come to rest at the nape of your neck. “You're sure to find something nice. You look perfect in anything, anyway.” He leans forward a bit and breathes a kiss on your forehead. 

“You're disgusting!” Kika's voice sounds from the hallway. 

Charles flips her the bird before letting go of you. “Go. Before you get into trouble. And let me know if you need anything.”

You smile at him briefly before taking your wine glass and following your best friend towards the bedroom. Once there, you watch as Kika empties her bag, which was just standing in the living room, onto the bed. “I don't want to imagine what your bedroom looks like at your place.”

“Believe me, it's actually better if you don't.” She grabs the clothes and starts sorting them on the bed. "How was your Christmas?”

You take a big gulp of wine. "Good.”

The Portuguese woman looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Wow, you tell it like I was already there.” She matches a white top to a dark red satin skirt. “Tell me. Did you visit Charles Mom?”

“We did,” you reply and sit down on the last free spot on the bed. “I haven't had such a nice Christmas in a long time.”

Kika smiles at you. “Did you two fuck?”

You almost drop your glass. "Kika!" you whisper indignantly and quickly close the door so that the men can't hear you. You lean back against the wood. 

“So you fucked,” she grins and raises her wine glass to toast you. When you stare at her, she lowers her glass again. ”Y'all didn't fuck?”

“We didn't.”

“But you did something.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Like a curious little child, she draws up her legs and sits cross-legged, chin resting on her fist. “Tell me everything.”

You have to laugh. ”I thought we had to get ready for the party.”

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

And you do. You tell her everything that has happened in the last few days. About the night you gave Charles a massage and about the night on the boat. That he gave you an employment contract as a Christmas present so that you can be together permanently. About Christmas and last night, when you got closer than ever before. The way he called you “his girl”. 

Kika listens intently and asks questions in between, but first and foremost she lets you say everything that is on your mind – and that seems to be quite a lot. 

You tell her how confused you are because you don't know exactly where you stand with Charles. But also that it's okay for you, because as long as you can somehow participate in Charles's life, that's enough for you. It's like you're addicted to him – and every little dose you get of him draws you further under his spell. 

When the men knock on the door an hour later, you've just finished and are catching your breath for the first time.

“Is everything okay?“ Charles asks, his eyes fixed on you. He seems to ignore the bed's mess – or he doesn't even notice it. 

“Everything's fine,” you smile.

He nods and points at Pierre, who is standing behind him. “We just wanted to get pizza so that we can eat something decent before the party. What do you want on it?”

“Just a simple Margarita, please,” you reply, Kika gives the same answer. 

Charles smiles at you. “Have you found an outfit yet?” When he sees the empty wine bottle on the dresser, he presses his tongue into his cheek. “Or did you have so much to talk about that you haven't had time yet?” He raises an eyebrow. He knows exactly what you've been talking about for the last hour.

Warmth rises to your cheeks. “The latter.”

Your roommate nods again. "Okay. You still have a little time. We're on our way. See you in a bit," he says goodbye and closes the door behind him. 

Kika looks at you. ”He's right. We really should start thinking about what we want to wear.”

As if you were at a fashion show, you try on everything that could possibly go with the club. Dark red dresses, the little black dress, satin trousers and corsets that accentuate the décolleté. But somehow there is nothing that convinces you. 

Annoyed, you lie down on the bed with your back on it, the clothes are spread out on the floor of the room. Kika lies down next to you. 

“Is it always like this?” you ask her, crossing your arms over your face. 

“What do you mean?”

You breathe out loudly. “It's the first time I'm consciously out and about with people who are famous. Is it always so exhausting to find something appropriate so you don't embarrass yourself?”

“I think you get used to it,” the Portuguese woman replies. ”I had to learn that too at the beginning. That there are some items of clothing that suit your figure and some that don't. And just because something looks good on you doesn't mean you feel comfortable in it.” 

“And how do you do it?” you ask her, looking at her. "I mean, you're a model. You obviously look good in anything. But – I don't know.”

Kika shrugs. "It took me a long time to feel comfortable in certain things. But most of the time I actually wear things that I didn't have to be convinced of at all. And then I don't care what others say about me. I feel comfortable – and I want to keep it that way.” When you don't answer, she grabs your hand. "It'll get easier. And until it does, you've got me by your side." She nudges you in the side. ”And your roommate, who practically undresses you with his eyes.”

You roll your eyes mock-annoyed. “He doesn't.”

“He does,” she grins. “But that's okay. After all, you're absolutely perfect. You could go to the club in a potato sack and you'd look bombastic.”

“Well,” you say. “Unfortunately, I don't have a potato sack here that I could put on.”

When the door suddenly opens, you both jump. The boys are standing in the doorway, Pierre has two pizza boxes in his hand and Charles a smaller black box. 

“Where have you been? It's been almost an hour since you left” Kika asks, getting up from the bed. 

“We had to get something,“ says Pierre, motioning for her to follow him. As Kika takes your wine glasses and the two of them leave the bedroom, Charles sits down on the bed next to you. 

“I brought you something,” he smiles, placing the box on the mattress between you.

You sit up and examine the box. “What is it?”

Your roommate shrugs. “You asked me what to wear to parties in Monaco, and I still owe you an answer.”

Slowly, you reach for the box and take off the lid. Inside, wrapped in dark red paper, is a dress. Black and long, with thin straps and a low-cut back. As you carefully take it out of the box, you are speechless. 

“Do you like it?” He asks and watches you get up from the bed and hold it up properly. 

You stare at it, mouth agape. "Where did you get this?" You ask him, holding it up to your body and looking at yourself in the mirror. 

“It's not important. Do you like it?“ he asks again, his eyes glued to you. 

“It's gorgeous,” you breathe, turning a little to get a better idea of how it would look on you. “I—how much did it cost? I'll definitely pay you back the money.”

“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately and with a tone that allows no argument. "It didn't even leave a small dent in my bank account." He gets up and stands behind you. He's so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. "You'll look stunning in it.”

You look at him through the mirror. “And if you put on your black shirt, we'll even match,” you smile, before carefully hanging the dress over the sideboard. 

Charles wraps his arm around you to press you against him. You feel his hardness against your lower back as he leans down to you and places feather-light kisses on your neck. “That was the plan,” he whispers, and goosebumps spread across your body where his hot breath caresses your skin. 

His hand moves under your sweater and his fingertips slowly glide over your ribs before his thumb hesitantly slides under the fabric of your bra. Breathing heavily, you lean your head against his shoulder and give him more room on your neck as his thumb slowly circles around your nipple. 

“Charles,” you breathe softly and arch towards him. You want more. So much more. 

When Kika's voice echoes through the apartment, you break away from each other. ”Come on! The pizza will get cold!”

With hot cheeks and wet panties, you let Charles lead you into the living room, where the other couple is already sitting on the couch eating pizza. Another bottle of wine is on the table in front of Kika, who is refilling your glasses. 

Although the couch is big enough, Charles pulls you right next to him on the cushion and puts your legs over his lap. For a moment, you wonder if he's doing this just so the others can't see his boner. 

“Here,” Kika smiles, handing you a slice of pizza, which you accept gratefully. 

The four of you eat dinner together and chat about Christmas, Charles‘ upcoming training camp and New Year's Eve, while the boys’ pizza boxes, wine bottles and drinks get emptier and emptier. 

“I was thinking of throwing a New Year's Eve party,” Kika says, putting her wine glass back on the table. ‘You're obviously invited. I wanted to invite a few other friends, but your attendance is most important to me.”

“Well, I'd love to come,’ you smile, looking at Charles. ”Unless you have something else planned.”

The Monegasque shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I won't be back from camp until the afternoon, so we'll probably see each other again at the party first. But until then, you'll be in good company for sure.”

“Excuse me?” Kika says indignantly. “I'm the best company!”

Pierre puts his arm around his girlfriend and kisses her on the cheek. ”For me, definitely.”

Kika leans against her boyfriend before gently kissing him. “I know.”

Charles quickly grabs a pillow and throws it at them. “Please get a room!” He jokes, repeating Kika's words. When she flashes him her middle finger, he can't help but laugh. “Come on, you two. Get ready. We have to leave soon.” He runs his fingers over your shins before smiling at you. “Go put on your new dress.”

You can't stop smiling. “See you in a bit.”

While the men continue to chat, Kika and you get ready. With professional precision, she applies make-up on your face before doing your hair and then taking care of herself. The Portuguese woman decides on a short black dress with pearl embroidery. When she is finished styling herself, she helps you into your new dress. 

“Careful with the straps,” she smiles as she pulls it up your body. You put your arms through it carefully so as not to damage it. When you're dressed, Kika looks at you skeptically. "The bra has to go.”

You look at her with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to go out without a bra?”

“Don't you have an invisible bra?” When you shake your head, she purses her lips into a thin line. ”Then you'll have to go out without a bra. Unfortunately, the straps are so thin that you can see the bra underneath either way. But we can tape over the nipples if you like. At least they won't be visible in the cold outside.”

Without further ado, she disappears from the room and while she is looking for something to cover the nipples with in the apartment, you examine yourself in the mirror in your room, but no matter how you turn, it is too small to see you from top to bottom. On bare feet, you walk to Charles' bedroom across the hall, where the new, larger mirror is leaning against the wall. 

The satin dress clings to your curves and accentuates your body exactly where it should. There is a slit on the left side that reaches to the middle of your thigh and the back neckline is so low that you couldn't pull your thong all the way up because it would otherwise show. 

You examine yourself in the mirror and don't even notice that Charles is leaning against the doorframe until he starts talking.

“Let's stay home,” he suggests, his expression impenetrable. He is wearing his black shirt as promised, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks wickedly handsome.

You smile at him and try to suppress the dirty thoughts that are trying to take over your brain. “We can't cancel now,” you reply. “First of all, the others are already here, and secondly, Lando is definitely waiting for us.”

“I don't care.” With quiet steps, he moves towards you without taking his eyes off you. Like a predator that stares at its prey before it snaps. 

You turn to him. ”You have very good taste, Charles. The dress is perfect.”

He answers without hesitation. “Not as perfect as the woman wearing it." The Monegasque stands directly in front of you and looks down at you. "Let's stay home," he suggests again. His large hands find their rightful place on your hips and pull you towards him. His eyes glow seductively. 

“It would be rude to cancel now.”

“It wasn't a request,” he whispers, turning you so that you are standing with your back to him. Once again, you can see him through the mirror. He grabs the flesh of your hip with one hand, while the other hand wanders over your upper body until it rests on your neckline. ”That dress was definitely a mistake.”

You look at him, confused. “Why? I thought you liked it?”

“That's not the point,” he whispers, kissing your bare neck. His stubble scratches a little, but you couldn't care less. "I just don't know how to hold back when you look like this." His teeth graze the soft skin below your ear. ”God, you look devine.”

His hand slides gently into the dress from above and encloses your bare chest. At the same time, a soft moan escapes you. “Charles.”

“Merde,” he curses and presses you against him. “How am I supposed to keep my fingers to myself when I know you're not wearing a bra?”

As his fingers gently play with your nipple, you bite your lip. “Who said you had to?” you tease him, whereupon his other hand gently rests on your neck, though not squeezing. Sadly.

“I can't wait to be back here later,” he gasps and presses a final kiss on your shoulder before taking his hands off you. You watch him fix his erection in his pants so that it can't be seen. But it's there, you know that. And just the thought of it gets your blood pumping. ”And then neither of us leaves this bed until I say so.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you ask, tilting your head so he can see the red marks on your skin where his beard has left its mark 

Charles suppresses the urge to pull you close and throw you onto the new bed to fuck you relentlessly until your legs give out and you forget your name. He flexes his hand. “Both, mon amour. Definitely both.”

[scream-into-the-voiddd]

Hot soup, cold leads.

[I was thinking about ways that rise April meet the boys and splinter and the I remembered that she was a 'stonehead' since she was 8 and she would 100% looking for stories at that time, hence she will find the long missing Lou Jitsu as her first big story]

April tied her shoes and put on her jacket as she headed out into the cold Sunday morning. Her mother told her she was now allowed to walk the three blocks to her Stoneheads meeting all by herself, she fell very grown up and happy she could take her time getting to the meeting hall, which in reality was a 14 years olds garage that held the the six other members including April herself.

As April entered the meeting hall the five other girls were setting up a small TV and a DVD player to play the burned disc of Warren Stones latest new broadcast. After some mindless chatter they began to talk about the actual new report itself. Apparently someone had spotted a giant rat near Lou Toni's Pizza, which April thought was not all that news worthy after all this is New York. The other girls just gagged at the idea of a rat near a food place to begin with, which is fair enough.

When the meeting was over and April began her walk home, her mind was buzzing like it always did after leaving her stonehead meetings. Every great story starts with a question that needs to be answers and April is look everywhere for hers. She would look up and down at buildings, through every bush and down every single ally looking for a story. This is New York there must be a story near by just out of reach of her tiny hands. But alas three blocks is not enough space for April to find her story in this chilly afternoon. She climbed the steps of her apartment building dragging her feet up each hollow step, defeated.

"How was you meeting sweetie."

she always said meeting in that mom way, like how you show them the spaceship you made out of a shoe box and they ask about its trip to space. But these were real meetings about the stories all through out New York and one April is going to find one.

"It was good but we mostly just talked about Warren Stones new tie and how it matched his hair."

"that's... nice, why don't put your things away, properly this time."

"Yes mom."

April went into her room and took off her jumper and then throw it on the floor before hoping onto her bed. She then grabbed the remote on her bed side table and started playing the Lou Jitsu movie she still had in her small tv. They weren't her favorite movies that was Jupiter Jim by a mile but she could not help but love the action and fast paced and larger then life stories.

She laid on her bed and day dreamed about all the things she could find and write about.

finding a big red bull that is also a cyborg

catching cufflink bandits

stopping a mad scientist from using their gag-a-magnifier

a giant ninja robot

the possibilities are endless and that is all they were possibilities. She looked back to the movie and she started to mouth along with the worlds as she had seen it and all the others over a hundreds of times. She then felt a question creeping in her mind and went to the kitchen to find her mother.

"Hey mom, Why did Lou jitsu stop making movies?”

her mother sighed and gave her a sympathetic look. The answer she got sent a shock wave through her tiny body and triggered something deep in her mind.

“Well sweetheart he disappeared years ago and no one has seen him since.”

Her mother then went into a lecture about strange danger and staying safe when she is by herself but April was no longer listening. Missing? How could someone that famous go missing? It’s like if Jupiter Jim or her ideal Warren Stone went missing; there is no way nobody know where he was.

April may only be 8 but she was not one to shy away from a mystery and this one was going to stay in the back of her young mind for the foreseeable future.

What happened to Lou Jitsu? and where is he now?

That was her question that is what she needed an answer to no matter where it may lead her.

April laid in her bed that night thinking about it, restless and turning. How could he just disappear? No that can’t be it she thought Lou would not go quickly into the cold night not without pouring hot soup all over whoever tried to take him.

What happened to Lou Jitsu? and where is he now?

That was her question that is what she needed an answer to no matter where it may lead her.

Then a more alarming thought can to her.

What if no one has ever found him because no one ever looked for him?

That’s it she jumps out of bed and decides right then and there she is going to find him, she will hunt down and find Lou Jitsu how could anything stop her.

She’s April O’Neil

[tenali-san]

sisters odyssey - a day in a life of a contract killer

Narration by

Adra

I hate mornings, I wake up and my bones hurt, they make sounds like doors in winter. This is what being 30 feels like I guess. I have a tiny apartment because I live alone. But it’s cool. I have a nice TV as big as the wall. I don’t have much stuff in the kitchen, I only make omelets or coffee. I wake up around 11-12 in the afternoon. I brush my teeth. Put on an ice face pack. Do some cardio, I have a treadmill at my house. Then around a 100 pushups, 100 sit ups and a 100 jumping jacks. Then I go take a bath, put some aloe vera on my face. Then I watch re-runs of my favorite TV shows – Samuel science, SpongeBob and breaking bad! I also watch this anime about space cowboys, it’s great.

I do this until around 5pm, that’s when I step outside. I don’t like to go out in the day because it’s all too sunny. There are barely any clouds on mis bolas. Mis bolas is a large city built on an island near southern ireland in 1687 by many pirates of that era. It was built as a safe haven for all bandits. And now with a population of 2.22 million citizens, it is recognized as an independent nation. The nation makes most of its money from being a tourist spot for rich businessmen and a hiding spot for rich illegal businessmen. And yes, the person who named this island – mis bolas, did not speak Spanish.

Most people here are hotel workers, shopkeepers, fishermen, or straight-up criminals. When people ask me what I do, I just say – I paint houses for a living. The many far away districts are connected by a metro rail system. The station is near my house. I get in the train and it’s usually crowded at that time. I get off and go to this bar nearby called – “escapism” I know, what a pretentious name! They serve beer with sushi, why!? I don’t know, the sushi is definitely not made by a Japanese fella I can just tell. But the beer’s good so I don’t complain. I go there to meet my contractor – paco. I’ve worked with him for 8 years. He’s an old Mexican feller, I usually find him at his regular table, I go sit there, and he shows me a photo and an address written on paper. I don’t keep it with me, I just memorize the face and other details.

I get back on the train, I’m listening to music, waiting for my stop to arrive. I see a group of friends sitting across from me. The group is eating burgers and fries and having fun, making jokes, and laughing like crazy folks. They seem happy. I’ve been living here for many years. But never seem to make any friends. But I prefer it this way.  

i got off on my stop, and started walking. i came near a large mansion. Two guards were standing near the gate, went to the backside, two guards there as well. pulled out my two guns with silencers, walked up to the gate, shot both in the head before they could even speak, opened the gate, kept walking, two more men see me and draw their gun out, two more headshots, walked past them as well. But this time, one guard had yet to die, he shot a bullet in the air. The loud sound now alarmed everyone inside the mansion. Their boss – Kenny was told to hide upstairs. Eight more guards stand near the backdoor, waiting for me. But I don’t enter, to make them think I ran away. One of them slowly walks towards the door and opens it, he peeks outside. No one! He comes out, two dead at the gate and two on the lawn. Where is the shooter?

“No one’s here!” he shouts

“You sure?” I ask, hanging on to a window below the backdoor! i shoot him in the head and go in through the window!

“She’s on the second floor, hurry!” the 7 remaining men run upstairs, I’m not in the hallway!

A gunshot is heard from the boss’s room.

The guards run to the room, open the door, boss is shot dead! It was me, standing over his body, looking at the beaten naked girl in the corner! God knows what that monster had done to her.

I look at the guards! I was planning on killing Kenny and just leaving quietly, but now, after seeing that girl, I couldn’t resist. shot two more guards, the others started running away.

The 5 remaining guards ran out the backdoor, went to the previous window and shot three down. Two remaining. ran outside, saw them going towards the beach and followed,  saw one guard jump in the water and swimming away, I was going to shoot him too but… it felt familiar.. I couldn’t shoot him for some reason... It felt wrong, i let him swim away.

That’s still one remaining, a big guy with a pistol was hiding behind a nearby tree, had come out and was standing right behind me, ‘I am too close, she can’t dodge this one’ he must’ve thought. i had no idea he was behind me. He pulled the trigger and just before the bullet left the barrel, my head moved just a little to get out of the bullet’s path, it went forward, barely touching my ear!  

i quickly turned and shot the gun out of his hand. Then ran and slammed my leg right into his head, killing him instantly!

i went back to the mansion, i had to cut off Kenny’s finger! As a proof to show he’s dead

The naked girl was still in the corner, I say to her -

“They aren’t coming for you, call the police, say anything about me and I will find you, understand?”

The girl nodded. I left the mansion. Waited outside until the cops arrived and then left for the station. To go back at the “escapism”, god I hate that name!

I go sit back at paco’s table. Put Kenny’s thumb on the table. Paco holds it, inspects it

“Any witnesses?” he asks

“Two, one of them was kidnapped woman, one was a guard who… swam away!”

“Why do you do that adra?”

“Do what?”

“Let guys swim away!”

“I got the target, just like always”

“ya, and that’s great, but what is that? The swimmers, it’s very specific”

“paco I don’t want to talk about that! Stop asking me.”

“Okay, forget I said anything”

Paco pulls out an envelope full of cash, I take it. He orders two drinks for us. He knows I don’t like to talk. He insists on talking to me, say it’s so I don’t forget how to speak. He says if you don’t talk or listen to anyone for three days, you can forget language itself! I don’t believe in that crap. Paco’s an old man, he says he used to be a sailor back in the day. Worked on a mob bosses private yacht as its captain! When the boss got arrested he had to fire paco, he gave him a piece of land on mis bolas. And let him keep the yacht.

When he came here he saw many people who worked for the boss. Some of them needed “work” and some of them needed “workers” so paco became the middleman. He talks about his youth, how he misses the ocean. He wishes to one day go back with his ship, into the sea, but all his life is here. He wants a reason to go back. Without a destination – a journey is pointless after all.  

I don’t get what is so great about the ocean. I had lived there for 5 years myself, I never felt anything about it. I was just happy to be alive.

Paco ordered two beers for us. I prefer drinking in silence, but paco never ever takes the hint. I don’t reply anytime he starts a conversation, he thinks I am a good listener!

“Are scared of the ocean adra? I was a sailor back in my day and let me tell you… it is! I mean I still want to go back sailing but… It does feel like outer space! There’s nothing but water no matter where you look. So I can understand if some folks don’t like it. Sometime its kind, sometimes it’s cruel. Full of unholy creations of god! Don’t even ask about the giant squid!”

My ears stood up!

“A…a squid?”

“ooooh nononono.. More like… an octopus! A giant octopus!”

So… it wasn’t a dream! I’ve drank with this old man for so many years and he never brought up the octopus! I mean I did always tune out most of what he said. I came to this island to leave my past behind, why is it coming back now?

“Have you ever seen a giant octopus adra?” paco asked

“I…. I did. When I was 10!”

[heartkyeom]

stranger

assassin!choi seungcheol x gn!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: graphic violence, mentions of death, fluff

notes: hi! omg this is one of those concepts that I swore I was gonna do forever ago and I finally did it! might write more of this .... if y’all want it .... lol thank you to @husbandhoshi for beta reading <3 hope you enjoy as always

tag list: @lavenderautumnx @dokyeomblr @mangogyu @sapphichui @soffrine @husbandhoshi @thetigeragenda (mutuals if you wanna be added to my general tag list let me know!)

There were many moments in life that you could be prepared for. 

Finding an intruder in your apartment is not one of them.

You’re sure that your demonic scream woke up your neighbor, until you remember you’re at the end of the hall and your next door neighbor politely let you know they’d be on vacation this week.

“Why the fuck are you in here?” You yell.

“Are you really gonna hit me with that?” He points to the baseball bat in your hands, gripping it so tightly that your knuckles are white. Your hands shake, but you hope the intruder doesn’t notice.

It started when you forced yourself awake a few minutes ago, trying to figure out what you needed to do to feel satisfied before falling back asleep. You settled on eating a granola bar, and you didn’t think twice about turning on the kitchen light before seeing a man standing before you.

You were completely caught off guard, you still thought you were dreaming but you blink away your tiredness to realize someone was still standing there. You took a moment to grab the bat that sat untouched in your hallway. You refused to put it in a proper place in case you ever needed quick access to it, and there you were, in need of the bat.

“I will if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on,” Your voice has a low bite to it, enough to make the guy clear his throat.

“Someone is trying to kill you,” He seems far too calm to relay that kind of news to you, enough that it makes you grip the bat until you have no feeling left in your fingertips.

You furrow your brows in disbelief. “How the fuck am I supposed to believe that?”

“You just have to trust me, I know this is weird and I’d probably act the same way if someone told me the same thing,” He tries to reason with you, slowly approaching you but you push the bat out to his chest. He’s startled for a second, putting his hands up before taking a deep breath.

“Okay, well, they’re probably in the apartment right now.”

“How would you even know that?”

“Stop talking.” His attention is torn from you instantly, he puts his hands down in favor of listening to his surroundings. His gaze is scattered around the room and you can tell his body wants to follow suit.

“No, I’m not gonna stop-” He rushes to cover your mouth with his hand and you want to protest, but the look in his eye begins to sway you. He slowly takes it down and places a finger on his lips. 

“Stay here, please,” He pleads just loud enough for you to hear. You nod yes vigorously as if you could even dare to take a step right now. 

He mouths asking you where the bathroom is, and you shakily point to the right where your tiny bathroom stays. He nods back and walks out of your living room with cautious steps. You look down and notice a concealed blade in his grip. You swallow nervously, you silently hope a man won’t die in your apartment but the chances of that are decreasing by the second.

You could hear a pin drop, your breath was caught in your throat at the sight of him trying to figure out where the threat may be. 

The moment he steps into view of the bathroom, the assailant reveals himself by slamming your unnamed savior into the wall, his large forearm lodged on top of his throat. You can’t take your eyes off the way he is suddenly restrained and possibly out of options to escape. You trust his abilities, but it’s still hard to feel 100% confident that he could make it out of the tight hold.

Due to the sudden attack, his blade falls out of reach, but your savior doesn’t seem completely deterred.

He only struggles for a second before landing a swift kick to the man’s crotch, leaving the assailant stuttering in pain. He uses the opportunity to flip their positions, his arm now pressed firmly against the throat of the other man. He pushes it further, constricting nearly his entire air flow and you almost think you can hear the assailant’s bones start to crack under the pressure of his hold. The man is visibly losing strength, but your savior doesn’t believe that to be enough. He snatches the assailant off the wall and forces him into a headlock. He’s gasping for air, clutching his arms against your savior’s own. You feel unnerved by the way his gurgles fill up the silence in the room, but your savior looks almost content to see the struggle on the man’s face. 

You hate how attractive he looks while he’s about to kill someone, you can’t sense any anxiety on his face. You push that intrusive thought to the back of your head when he suddenly snaps the assailant’s neck with a firm twist of his arms, and he uncages himself to watch the lifeless body drop to the ground. 

You can’t fight back the gasp you let out. You look at your savior’s face and he only lets out a short breath. “Told you someone was here,” He doesn’t look at you, just lazily examines the dead body at his feet. 

“Holy shit,” you’re panting at the sight in front of you. Your life has been unremarkable for the most part, the most exciting thing you’ve done recently is going to a new smoothie place that opened down the block from your apartment. 

You didn’t expect an assassin waiting to murder you, much less another jumping to save your life while you were trying to find a midnight snack. 

You suddenly feel overcome with emotion and tears well up in your eyes before you can stop yourself. The idea of almost dying was all too much at the moment and your shoulders shook from your small cries. You finally drop the bat from your grasp and let yourself cry without restraint.

Once he hears the noise, he’s crossing the room to check how you are. He scans your body for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder. You don’t know what compels you to embrace him in a hug, but you’re sobbing into his shirt. Your arms clutch loosely at the fabric, you don’t expect him to reciprocate in any way but you’re stunned when his arms wrap around you. 

You don’t want to find comfort in the arms of a man who just strangled someone to death, but you can’t help it. You wonder how many times he’s done this, how his instincts got that sharp to begin with, and if he gives quality hugs like this all the time. 

“We have to go, okay?” His voice is so sweet that it hurts when he pulls away from your embrace to look at your expression.

“I don’t want to,” You tear up all over again and his hand instinctively moves to rub your cheek. You feel selfish that you want to stay in the comfort of your shitty apartment and risk your life, but parting with this aspect of your life is overwhelming.

“I know, honey, but too many of these people know where you live. They would find a way to kill you again soon when you least expect it. We have to get you somewhere safe, okay?” The pet name seeps into your skin like a soft exfoliant, you really don’t want to be out of his reach for even a second.

You decide to stop fighting against your personal safety and nod in agreement, you finally see him crack a smile for the first time. You love the way it spreads all the way to his eyes.

“Good, someone’s gonna come by and pack your clothes for you. We just need to get you out of here.”

“What about him?” You sniffle and point to the dead body, your mind was clearly focused on all the wrong things.

He scoffs under his breath. “Someone’s gonna take care of that too,” He nods decisively.

“Okay,” You take a deep breath and step out of his embrace. You look around to find your favorite hoodie laying on the couch, grateful that you left it somewhere close by and put it on without thinking. Wherever you’re headed, you don't want to go there showing off your Sanrio shirt from the depths of your closet. You quickly locate a pair of socks and your worn black sneakers soon after, toeing them on and tying the laces of the shoes without a second thought. 

You leave the apartment soon after, rushing down the emergency exit stairwell together. He pushed out of the back door at the bottom of the stairs and looked back to check that you were still right behind him. The night air is slightly more humid than you expected, and you slightly regret wearing the hoodie as you follow his lead into the darkness. 

Your nerves start to kick in again when you leave the grounds of the apartment. You detach yourself from focusing on walking in an effort to stay conscious, to keep up with his quick pace. 

He leads you to a menacing black truck slightly off site near the apartment parking lot. He opens the door for you to get in the backseat before going up to the passenger’s seat. 

“Wait,” You grab his hand. “Can you sit next to me, please?”

He looks almost shocked to hear the request, but he nods quickly. “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

You settle into the second row and watch him get in next to you, slamming the door behind him. He brushes his hair out of his face, letting out a deep sigh. 

The car drives off immediately and you try your best to relax against the leather seats. You look over and his eyes are already closed. You’re not exactly an assassin apologist, but you do consider the tremendous amount of pressure he must be under. You’re eternally grateful that he came to your rescue when he did, you can’t imagine discovering the large man on your own. Even with a bat, you’re not sure you could’ve held your own for very long.

You knew almost nothing about this entire setup, but the idea of him having to save not only his own life but your own made your head spin.

“Hey,” You whisper.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t open his eyes but acknowledges your presence.

“What’s your name? I feel bad for not asking before.”

“It’s Seungcheol, and don’t feel bad, it was very stressful up there,” He blinks his eyes open and catches your glance. It’s hard to see his eyes completely as the car speeds past street lamps that only offer occasional spots of light onto his face, but it’s enough to know that he feels bad about how things went.

“Oh, okay. Nice to meet you, Seungcheol,” You nod back at him before turning away. You know not to ask him if he knows your name, you’re sure that he knows it more than you’d be comfortable with in order to save you from an avoidable death.

You want to close your eyes too, but the thought of seeing the dead man behind your eyelids forces you to fight sleep through the rest of the ride.

--

You end up in a small apartment that’s fairly secluded, you don’t recognize the scenery around you by the time the car comes to a stop. The city is probably a fair distance away now for your own safety. 

He helps you out of the car with a gentle hand, giving a short goodbye to the driver before slamming the door shut. You trail behind him to the front door and he unlocks it with relative ease. You didn’t expect everything to look so comfortable, especially considering his job. You expected everything to feel stiff, cold, and uninviting, but just from a brief look around, you can tell he treats this place as a safe haven. 

You find your way to the couch, unconsciously wringing your hands together out of nervousness. 

Seungcheol locks the front door behind him and puts his hands over his face. He lets out a big sigh before uncovering his face.

“Welcome home,” He offers you a small smile before correcting himself, “for the time being, at least.”

“I’m not gonna get details about any of this tonight, am I?” 

“Absolutely not,” He makes his way toward the couch and sits next to you, placing little distance between you two. “Unless you want to know about all the motives of your attempted murder before you sleep tonight.”

“Who said I was going to sleep?” You fumble with the strings of your hoodie without looking at him.

“Don’t do that. You’re gonna wear yourself out if you stay up.”

“Don’t lecture me,” You shake your head slightly, zoning your focus in on your shoes now to distract yourself.

“Well, I feel like the assassin would know what they’re talking about when it comes to sleep, seeing as I don’t get very much sleep to begin with,” You hear him chuckle and you look up to see his glance.

“How do you even sleep after things like that?” You’re genuinely concerned for his wellbeing. He seemed normal enough, not especially fucked up to where he couldn’t keep someone safe if necessary. Yet, you figure he’s been through enough to feel haunted by a lack of sleep.

“Well, considering all the crazy shit I’ve seen, this wasn’t that bad,” He nods his head and you’re trying not to imagine the kinds of missions that he’s used to. His kills are probably far more intricate than you need to be aware of. 

“Honestly, it depends on the severity of the situation. You were kinda stubborn, but the death was relatively easy. So, I’ll probably sleep well tonight,” He examines his hands, flexing his fingers and putting them into fists to really assess if there was any substantial damage he might have overlooked. 

“That’s insane. Do you even get time to process any of that?”

“Yeah, typically when I come to kill someone, that’s the end of the story. I get to talk to my therapist about whatever bullshit might have happened on the job and I move on. But you,” he taps his finger on your knee, “are very sought after, so I’m gonna be with you for a little while.” That makes your skin crawl, now you’re glad he doesn’t want you to know anything else about your situation tonight. It would drive you insane trying to process every little detail.

“So you’re like my bodyguard now?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“That’s great,” You sigh at the prospect of being secluded. You imagine they, whatever agency he was working for, would want you to stay off the grid for the time being. Not that you went out much anyways, but you are already starting to miss the small pleasure of going out when you wanted to.

“Hey,” He tilts your chin to face him head-on. His glance is far more inviting than you’d like to admit to yourself.

“I know this is scary, confusing, or whatever you may be feeling, but I’m going to keep you safe no matter what happens. I promise.” He seems so earnest that you don’t have it in you to fight back. You’re not sure why he already feels so comforting, but he’d done far more than most people ever do for a stranger they just met. 

“Thank you. I trust you.” Those words seem like enough for him tonight. He gives you a tiny smile before standing up.

“Gonna show you your room so we can both get some rest,” He’s already walking out of the living room, giving you no opportunity to catch up. 

He points you to the first door on the left, a small guest bedroom that seems nearly untouched. It felt more like a hotel room than your makeshift bedroom, but it was your mission to make it look a bit more lived in. You let yourself sit on the plush bed for a moment before looking back up at him to see what you should do next.

“There’s some shirts and shorts in the dresser. Hopefully, that’ll be good enough until they bring your clothes tomorrow. Unless you wanna sleep in those pajamas.”

“I don’t want to at all,” You’re already itching to take off the hoodie but force yourself to wait until you’re alone. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Right next door. There’s a toothbrush and some other essentials in there. And I’m the last door on the right if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay. Goodnight, Seungcheol.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” He nods his head at you. You wait for him to close the door before you let out a breath. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name all night and it feels weirder than him randomly calling you a pet name earlier. You’re not sure, but everything related to your existence felt a bit strange to hear, especially your name. 

You needed to make some distance from the concept of yourself as a possible murder victim for the night, at least if you were going to attempt to get some sleep.

After picking out new clothes to wear and rushing through a quick night routine in the bathroom, you’re nestling under the covers until your head nearly disappears into the comforter. The silence of the room leaves you a bit rattled after the events of the night, so you try to force yourself to sleep before any intrusive thoughts take shape in your brain.

Despite this, the sight of the man’s body creeps into your brain, but you will it away with the thought of being in Seungcheol’s arms again. The smell of his cologne, his comforting words, and the idea of hearing his voice again calm you down before you can worry any longer.

You were safe, he told you that he’d make sure of it.

Whatever you were meant to know about the threats to your life, you were certain that he would stay true to his promise. 

That was the only thing you could hold onto as you drifted into sleep.

[mrs-dr-reid]

My Personal Evan Buckley Headcanons

Part 1/?

He’s a public menace to society when showing how much he loves you. He will grab your face and kiss the life out of you when you’re in the middle of a conversation with Hen at the firehouse, he’ll scoop you up and carry you bridal style when you’re just trying to find almond milk at the grocery store, and if the opportunity presents itself, he will 100% be grabbing your ass in plain view of everybody when you’re out on the town together

Buys duplicates of his favorite hoodies but still in the same size so you can still steal them without leaving him without one. Sometimes you’ll both wear the same hoodie accidentally, and the entire Fire Fam pretends to vomit at the domesticity

He loves dancing in the kitchen with you to “Put Your Head On My Shoulder” by Paul Anka at 2 in the morning when he can’t sleep, because holding you as close to him as possible and swaying back and forth helps him calm his crazy trains of thought enough to go to sleep

He buys little cheap trinkets when he’s out because he thinks you’ll like them. You have an entire memento box full of the little doodads he brings you, from mini slinkies to tiny snow globes to tiny stuffed animals that are meant to be hooked on a backpack

You convince him to start journaling to get all of his thoughts out of his head and onto paper, and whenever you see him scribbling away in the little journal you got him, you can’t help but smile to yourself

He tries to take you roller skating for a date exactly once because he almost ends up in the emergency room with a concussion. The poor man is absolutely terrible on skates, and he ate it multiple times until you finally put him out of his misery and made him take you to get milkshakes

He’s just the teensiest bit touch-starved, so if there is an opportunity to put his hands on you (in both everyday and nsfw scenarios), he’s going to take it. Hugs from behind, putting an arm around your shoulder or waist, peppering kisses all over your face, trapping you in a cuddle session on the couch, all the physical affection

He’s allergic to llama wool, but he didn’t know that until the first time he went to a petting zoo in LA that had llamas and he broke out in a rash after petting one. He can do alpacas though, which he thought was weird because he thought they were basically the same animal until he googled the difference between them

He loves doing matching couples costumes on Halloween with you. One year you guys went as Jack Skellington and Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas, and it was a big hit (the amount of time you guys spent doing and then taking off your makeup should be a world record)

He’d never admit it, but he loves a good session of “hate-watching”, where you two sit and find the worst show you can think of to just sit and talk shit about the entire time you’re watching. The most recent victim was Dawson’s Creek because he can’t stand how annoying all the characters are. He does love the memes though, and uses the GIF of Dawson's ugly crying face all the time

He desperately wants a dog, but his apartment complex doesn’t allow them. Once you two get married and move to the suburbs (Hen and Karen are your two-doors-down neighbors), he finally gets his dog. You guys adopt a little golden retriever puppy from a nearby shelter and name him Doug, and that dog becomes the goofiest guard dog to your future kids you could ever ask for

He throws things at people when he's bored, but they're usually very harmless things that are more annoying than anything else. TicTacs, chips, pens, socks, balled-up straw wrappers, popcorn, stuff like that. One time he absolutely beaned you with a boba pearl, and it very nearly exploded all over your face. He slept on the couch that night

Everytime he sees you interact with a kid, he gets INTENSE Baby Fever. The younger the kid, the more intense it is. Like, if you guys are watching Christopher for Eddie, and Buck looks over from the kitchen to see you and Chris doing a puzzle or something, his heart swells a little and he gets that fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach. When you guys are on a call and he sees you holding a baby while the mom is getting examined by Hen and Chim, it takes every ounce of self-control he has to not whisk you back to your place away from prying eyes, if ya know what I mean *wink wonk*

He is a firm believer in Lazy Sundays, so when the both of you have Sunday off, it takes no convincing from him to stay in bed until noon snuggling (or doing something else *cough cough*). When you eventually drag yourselves out of bed, you don’t bother getting dressed and just veg out on the couch the rest of the day

He knows how to play the guitar, but the only songs he can play are “Wonderwall” by Oasis and “Good Riddance” by Green Day. He’s working on learning other songs, but right now that’s it

Sometimes he accidentally uses your hair products in the shower when he’s still half-asleep and not paying any attention, and then you tease him all day because “I’m the one with the good hair in this relationship, Buckley, quit trying to steal my thunder”. You play with his hair all day though, so he considers it a win

He knows he messed up when you call him by his real first name, because like everybody else you always call him Buck, Buckley, or some goofy variation on “Buck”. But when you call him “Evan”, he knows he’s in for it

[superworldunkown]

Like Father Like Son: Part 3

It’s been several minutes since I’ve posted. I’ve been spending my days recovering from surgery and 2021, But, this brings me joy. I hope it does for ya’ll as well. 

Below are facts that I’ve made up in my head that Katsuki Bakugou would 100% simp for his significant, just like his father Masaru. As always, i envision Bakugou’s S/O to be that of a melanin queen, but feel free to insert your own OC into the mix. 

Link to PART 1 

Link to PART 2 

Always at your Service: Despite the fact that Katsuki has a big ego and a mouth full of opinions, his words come up short when he’s around you. His true love language is acts of service. He listens, and responds. That one time on one of your first dates when you nonchalantly mentioned that you liked going out to dinner because you didn’t have to do dishes; when you two moved in a few months later you never had to lift a finger in the kitchen. Honestly, you didn’t even know you had a dishwasher. Also, your favorite takeout would magically just plop itself on your desk while at work when projects were due and timelines where shortened. Bakugou just happened to be patrolling the area, thats all.

His compliments are explosively blunt: While he is more of a shower than a teller when it comes to his affections, he knows you need a little verbal affirmation every now and then. Whenever you are nervous or questioning your abilities that Katsuki knows you possess, he’ll blurt out a little “You’re the best out there Y/N. Don’t know why you’re so in your head about it...” Or, that one time when you bought that new outfit and nervously fidgeted with the fabric in the mirror for the eleventh time. You turned to ask him how you looked... Boy lifted his head from his phone only to scoff, “Like a god damn queen but you already knew that.” And let’s not talk about what he says to his fellow heroes when you’re not around...

He’s committed to your self care: Bakugou learned over the years the importance of finding positive ways to regulate stress (bottling up your emotions, looking down on people, exploding objects out of rage etc, can only get you so far in life). But when it comes to YOUR routine, he’s in it to win it. Theres the notorious story of when he, Kirishima, Sero, and Kaminari we’re playing videos games in his apartment and Bakugou suddenly shut off the console mid game to warm your house slippers in the dryer and draw you a bath so it was at perfect temperature when you got home.  Needless to say his houseguests were shocked at his behavior (Except for Kirishima; taking care of your partner is SO MANLY). When Kaminari made his, well Kaminari-esque quip about his odd behavior “Geez Kacchan, you really do treat Y/N like a princess.” Bakugou simply responded with, “Queen, dumbass. Seriously, I dont know how Ears puts up with you...” 

He takes your feedback (and yours alone) to heart: Growing up her never understood how his father could just bend over backwards to his mom’s every whim and wish. Like, seriously; one day he walked in on his father sporting a tiny mustache. When young Bakugou asked why he’d do something so ridiculous to his face Masaru simply responded, “your mother said I’d look good with one.”  Now, he gets it. Whatever you say, goes. Yes, he’ll argue and put up a huff, but in reality he values your opinion and insight. You say jump, he says “Damnit...how high?” When you notice small details about what he’s wearing or how he did fighting a villain, it makes his heart beat fast and his face flush. He wants to do good by you, But he’s will not grow a mustache...UNLESS you say he’d look good with one. 

NSFW - He goes from 0-60 in 3.5: Bakugou has a short fuze and an even shorter temper. And, when it comes to intimacy between the two of you. Well...things can go BOOM rather quickly. Needless to say when it happens Bakugou becomes utterly embarrassed and sulks under the covers. You on the other hand, you’re quietly beaming while attempting to soothe his shattered ego. (AN: I feel like I need to write a oneshot about this).

[kakashiswilloffire]

hey friend! i saw you are taking requests and would love to submit one if you're up for it!

would love something fluffy and sweet for kakashi. maybe some lazy day off shenanigans with his s/o and his ninken? bonus points if snuggling in a dog pile is involved at some point. reader can be gender neutral.

thanks and congrats on 100!

thank you so much!! i'm not really a dog person so i struggled a bit but i hope you enjoy!!

ao3

words: 2.4k

warnings: none!

It was the first day off you had both had in nearly a month. Team 7 kept Kakashi busy, if not with missions, then with training all day. On top of that, he was still in the on-call rotation all jonin were required to keep their names in, though his shifts were less frequent due to his status as a sensei. You had recently been promoted, and with that, your responsibilities were upped and you had been asked to step in for one of your colleagues who had recently run into some unexpected health issues. The time you had been able to share at home together had been limited to early mornings and late evenings, and frequently, there had been nights where the apartment you shared had remained empty entirely. Your fiancé had been counting down the days until your schedules finally overlapped, and you had exactly twenty-six hours in which you both had no obligation to the outside world.

You were awoken by the fire alarm screeching and a handful of swear words, followed by a crunching of plastic and sudden silence. Gaze flickering to the side, you noted Kakashi’s two-thirds of the bed empty and grinned, holding back a chuckle.

“Everything alright, babe?” you called out.

The reply came with an air of resignment. “Did I wake you up?”

You brought your arms over your head, feeling your joints re-align and pop lightly as you stretched.

“Not necessarily, unless you need help cleaning up?”

“No!” He replied quickly, and you heard the broom skitter across the tiles, dragging the remains of the smoke detector with it. “Go ahead and go back to sleep, I’ll come wake you later.”

Not one to deny the opportunity to rest after how late you’d gotten in last night, you snuggled back into your pillow with a small smile. It only took a moment before you were drifting off again, although not as deeply as you had been. You were dimly aware of the sound of teapot being filled, the burnt toast smell wafting through the open door, and your fiance’s graceful footsteps as he danced through the kitchen.

Wait.

Danced?

You raised your head up slightly, freeing both ears to focus on the sound of the Copy Ninja’s footsteps. His weight wasn’t distributing evenly on each step and the pattern of his footfalls was irregular. Bringing yourself to a sitting position, you suddenly realized that he was humming absentmindedly in the small kitchen.

Kakashi was not known for his stoicism, but the level of professionalism he established outside of the copy of Icha Icha attached to his palm was carefully maintained even in his downtime. When you went out together for dinner or drinks with friends, he told few jokes and mostly at Genma or Asuma’s expense. Gai’s repeated challenges to karaoke contests, both in locations with and without a karaoke machine, had always been flatly denied in favor of watching you and Kurenai choose the heartbreaker duet of the week to belt out. When you found yourself at the rare club, it only took light coaxing to bring him onto the dance floor with you, but anything more than swaying to the beat was out of the question. As long as he was having fun, you didn’t mind him not joining in the way the others teased him to do, but you had wished that he would be able to let go of his responsibilities long enough to really enjoy himself one day.

You slinked out of bed, keeping your movements as fluid as possible as you wrapped the comforter over your shoulders. As silently as you could move, you travelled into the hallway and through the living room, the smell of something acrid and burnt slowly getting stronger. You flattened yourself parallel to the wall, though not touching it to prevent the noise of the comforter dragging along, once you approached the doorway to the kitchen. He was certainly humming, and you couldn’t repress a grin, realizing he must be nearly skipping from the counter to the pantry from the way he moved. As slowly as you could, despite your excitement, you leaned around the corner to check on the man in the kitchen.

Kakashi was wearing boxers and a binder, his most comfortable outfit when secure inside your shared home. To your delight, he had chosen one of the binders without a mask attached, and you had a clear view of the slightly silly grin plastering his face as he shifted intermittently from humming to light, mumbled singing, punctuated by murmuring the ingredients he was using as he reached for them. He was stationed at the stove, stirring a medium pot and tasting from it in between verses of his song, reaching for more salt or minced garlic to adjust. He closed his eyes, bobbing his head side to side at a line he took a particular interest in, the morning sunlight catching glints of silver in his messy hair.

Taking advantage of his eyes being shut, you whipped back around the doorway into the living room, quickly tiptoeing away. You were so in love, and so happy to see him carefree, your mouth fell open in a silent scream and your hands, corners of the comforter still held in each, flew to your face.

You had to tell someone. No one would ever believe that Kakashi Hatake, master of a thousand jutsu, could be so sweet and cute behind the former ANBU exterior. Quickly, you crouched to the floor, abandoned the comforter, and made the required handsigns, pausing for a moment to remember if it was hitsuji or uma that came after saru, then gently pressed your palm against a squishy couch cushion. With a puff of smoke that evaporated almost as quickly as it was created, Pakkun sat before you.

You brought your finger up to your lips in a shushing gesture immediately. The tiny dog squinted, but nodded his agreement after a beat. This was your third or fourth time summoning him, and the first time you had done with without Kakashi. Animal summons were not your strong suit, and you had never particularly been a dog person, a fact that Pakkun had keyed in to almost instantaneously upon meeting you when you had no more than polite “my boyfriend’s pet” level interest in his paw pads. They were as soft and supple as he claimed, but you didn’t quite understand the appeal of man’s best friend.

You made the simple gestures required to convey that there was something to see and led Pakkun quietly toward the entryway to the kitchen where you could hear the rice cooker being sealed and started. Kakashi had switched to a different song and was now vocalizing the instrumentals softly, occasionally pausing to mime playing the instruments he was mimicking. Your hand found its way over your mouth, your heart melting with the gentle domesticity. Then you jerked away, feeling a soft scratch at your feet.

The pocket-sized grizzled dog glared at you until you bent down, when he pointed upwards toward a mess of hair. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized from this angle, all you could see was the shinobi’s calloused hand pushing silver strands out of his face, the black engagement band glinting dully on his finger. For the wedding in four months, you had managed to arrange custom bands for you both with the Hatake crest engraved into the matte surface. Kakashi didn’t know yet, and you knew that with how mission work was, he wouldn’t get to wear it often, but he would have a piece of his clan’s legacy with him whenever he did wear it.

The feeling of disappointment radiated off of the dog with the headband as you absorbed the fact you hadn’t considered him not being able to see over the counter. After a moment, you held out both your hands cupped together, fingertips resting on the floorboards. Pakkun regarded this, looking from your hands to your face, which you tried to humble appropriately. He sniffed at your exposed palms, then delicately stepped into your arms.

Bringing him up to your chest as you stood back up, you felt him stiffen. Had you moved him too quickly? Were you holding him too tightly? You ran two fingers down the back of his head instinctively and were surprised to find him relax. Kakashi tasted the cloudy liquid from the pot again and nodded firmly, turning toward the doorway. You whipped around, placing your back against the living room wall and clutching Pakkun tightly to your chest. You both held your breath, waiting to see if you’d been caught.

He sang to himself, “almost ready!” and you released your breath. Quickly, you snagged the blanket off the floor and made your way back to the bedroom.

“What’s the occasion?” Pakkun demanded as soon as you had the door shut behind you, jumping onto the bed.

“There is none! It’s just our first day off in a while, and he thinks I’m still asleep!”

Pakkun considered that quietly. “His pa, Sakumo, used to do the same thing. If he thought no one was around, he’d put on a whole concert for himself. Kakashi used to join him, up until his death. Then I didn’t catch him humming again till about a year after Minato’s death. Life had been rough for the poor pup up till about then. But he’s been in there all morning singing to himself?”

You nodded, pulling the gray comforter tighter around your shoulders. You knew your fiancé had been through more than most people should ever have to go through, but to think he might be making a breakthrough with his depression and trauma—to start singing again?

Pakkun made an odd noise that reminded you of a sneeze, then pawed at his eye and seemed to clear his throat. “I gotta tell the others. They’re gonna lose it.”

“Yeah, you should definitely head back and let them know the good news. I’m supposed to be asleep after all, he’ll probably come wake me up in a minute or two.”

The sly dog hesitated, then a wicked glimmer flashed across his eyes. “Or…”

Before you could react, you were engulfed a thin cloud of smoke that smelled vaguely of grass, and your bed began to creak. You jumped up, gasping at the number of variously sized dogs that had appeared in the room.

Pakkun addressed the crew before anyone could ask any questions. “Stay quiet. We’ve got a stealth mission ahead of us. Everyone, this is Kakashi’s partner, the one he’s marrying soon.” He then turned to you and pointed out the pack members in a line. “Bull, Urushi, Shiba, Bisuke, Akino, Uhei, and Guruko.” They were all undeniably adorable, and you’d have to ask your fiancé when he had the time to commission them all matching vests and headbands, but you were still shocked to see so many dogs. Did he really have eight summons? When most shinobi had one, if any?

“Name of the game is observe without being detected. Target: Kakashi. Location: kitchen. Standard formation. Questions?”

With no questions being posed, Pakkun lept up onto Bull’s head and led the way. You marveled in how quietly such a massive dog could move and trailed the pack as they made their way through your apartment.

You heard the timer on the rice cooker ding, then the seal breaking and relished the scent of the steam drifting through the air. There must be a stick of lemongrass in the rice this morning. You could see that Kakashi was beginning to set the table, gathering everything for a cozy breakfast for two.

He was also singing, audibly, with some degree of confidence.

One by one, the dogs all stopped and froze in awe. Akino and Uhei stepped around to the other side of you, and Shiba—or maybe it was Urushi?—popped their head between your knees to try to see. You were surrounded on all sides by the ninken, and you started to feel comforted by their warmth. Together, you all listened to your man serenade chopsticks and bowls as he spun to the small table, breaking into a mock tap routine as the china hit the wooden surface. You felt your head tilt to the right as you let the waves of love rush over you as you watched him carefully adjust the oily, burnt pan in the sink so he could wash his hands.

“Alright, love—breakfast is ready!”

For just a moment, you forgot that you were supposed to be in bed. You didn’t move as Kakashi rounded the corner, freezing when he saw nine sets of puppy-dog eyes gazing wistfully back at him from the middle of the living room, all heads tilted to the right and dreamy smiles plastered on each face.

“Ah! Uh, how long have you, uh…?”

Together, you moved as a pack toward your loved one, tackling him in a ten person hug. When you wormed your way past Uhei, you cupped Kakashi’s face and brought him in for a deep kiss, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He blushed slightly, tracing his thumb along your jawline.

“I love you, and I’m so glad that you feel safe and happy and loved with me,” you whispered fiercely, trying to beam the intensity of your emotion at him without being too aggressive.

He smiled, Sharingan deliberately taking the whole scene in as he lay on the floor with you, pulling you into his arms. Pakkun trotted over to sit on his chest while he brought you in for a firm, tight hug.

“Me too. And I’m glad you got to meet the rest of the clan.” He let the Sharingan fall shut, relaxing against you.

“Would’ve made more miso soup if I’d known everyone was coming over. Have you seen the dog bowls around anywhere?”

[alldayangst]

100 letters, just for me (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. PAIRING: uni (fuckboy/frat) Tom x uni reader. Summary: ‘You wrote a hundred letters just for me / And I find them in my closet in the pockets of my jeans / Now I’m constantly reminded me of the time I was nineteen / Every single ones forgotten in a laundromat machine’.

“Walk of shame?” your friend, Camren, sat in the lounge, TV on low as Tom walked with his clothes carelessly thrown on his body, recovered hoodies and jumpers you previously stole sat in a pile as high as mountains in his hands, leading Camren to wonder whether or not it was really the end this time round. “Third time this week!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be back anytime soon.” Tom slams the door behind him as hard as he could, and just when Camren thinks they can get a moment of peace, they hear a screeching sob rip through the air through the walls of your room. And Camren swears they live in a movie; a scratched CD of a bad romantic drama, that replays the part where the lovers face their problems over and over again.

‘My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it’

You remembered the start of this debacle like it was yesterday. You and Tom were in the bathtub and Tom told you to reach inside the back pocket of your jeans, he’d left something important in there. “I’m not ready to get married, if you left a ring in there. I’m only 19.” Tom kissed your shoulder, back cold and pressed against the tub - but he’d been willing to compromise to be the crutch you leaned against, to be the haven you found refuge in. To be the hill you died on.

“It better not be a ring, Holland. I swear.”

“I’ve never met someone who didn’t want to get proposed to as much as you.” He laid his chin against your shoulder once your search become successful, and you found a strip of paper in your trouser back pocket.

“My mouth hasn’t shut up about you, since you kissed it.” You turned to Tom who could only see your face in the corner of his eye, having found a new living situation of the warm, wet slope previously called your shoulder. “Tom, what is this?”

“100 letters, just for you. You’ll find them in every pair of your jeans. I’m with you forever.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and press a hard, loving kiss on your lips, causing you to drop the tiny piece upon which Tom scribbled his message. “Just for me? You stole this from a love letter by Alex Turner to Alexa Chung!” Tom couldn’t take his love-hazed gaze off of you, and kissed you again like he was oblivious to the words you were saying or you were speaking a foreign language he didn’t understand. “You don’t stop complaining, do you?”

Six months later marked the end of yours and Tom’s gap year, and you decided to move in together off campus.

“I can’t find it.” Tom smiled as he shook his head, your orange in his hand as he sat on a stool opposite your lunchbox. He knew you had a presentation that day and was eager to impress, so you’d shoved your most sensible pair of slacks in the washing machine without a care and when Tom went to unload it, his note for you torn into tiny pieces and covered in botched ink slithered out and caplunked into a minuscule puddle on your wooden floor.

“I’m serious, you didn’t write one this time.” You rummaged through your blazer pockets just to check for certain you were right before you turned to Tom with every bit of confidence that he’d truly forgotten to write you a little love letter this time around.

Tom placed the orange back into the fruit basket and opted for a tomato instead. He took note of the shock in your face and the wince you made as he juggled it, and it drew dangerously close to the ground. “Tom, don’t juggle that. If it hits the ground, it will splatter everywhere.” Tom giggled. 

“Have you checked your slacks?”

“You think I haven’t checked my trousers?” You turned your trouser pockets inside out with the flare of pride.”You’ve forgotten. It’s OK, Tom.”

You opened your lunchbox to place your orange in, but a piece of red card occupied the compartment usually owed to your snacks. 

You held the card up: “I love you from my head tomatoes.” Tom chuckled cheekily, not watching as the tomato rolled off the counter and depicted a large, red splatter on the kitchen floor. But Tom promised he would clean it up.

Tom didn’t forget about writing one love letter, until he did. And by that point, his letters had felt almost as autonomous as the days of the week. You didn’t even have to think about it, they just went by. So you’d be raking through every end of the house, expecting to find his letter.

“Tom, where’s the letter?”

“Huh? I don’t know.” Tom locked the door as if he’d been chased by wolves, looking up and down through the peephole and then giving a satisfied lick of the lip.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” 

“As in, I don’t know - you’d have to look for it darling.”

Little did he know that’s what you spent your whole day doing. And you hadn’t found anyone with sharper eyes or a bigger will to find it for you.

You didn’t find the note that night. You didn’t know there wasn’t any.

“I found one! ‘You’re my happy place’.” Huh. Tom hadn’t written a new one in a while. He must have put a note in both of the pockets in this pair of jeans. These jeans had been tossed aside, barely worn, in fact - never worn since you’d tried them out in the dressing room at the store two months ago. You were in awe of how young love could take you so far, and kissed the tired Tom that laid beside you. You pulled back and caressed his cheek.

“Why didn’t you kiss back?” You asked, too drunk on ignorant bliss to acknowledge the warning signs and the parade of red flags that told you to leave before you got truly hurt. “M’ just tired.” And it showed. His hair was matted, clad to his face, a few shades darker that it usually was due to all the sweat. He took in every breath like he’d never breathed before and kept watering at the eye; the kind of cry you did when even the fatigue wouldn’t let you sleep. 

It was inevitable. Three months later, you and Tom broke up. You were freshly twenty, and freshly out of a relationship. Tom moved out of your shared apartment, and you found yourself trying to navigate university with a compass that seemed to only point South. You never had to have friends here before, because you had Tom. It was out of sheer luck that you stumbled upon Camren who not only shared your soul and your mind, but agreed to share your home. Tom Holland quickly became synonymous with London nightlife and out of reluctance to let you go (call it withdrawal symptoms), requested that you continue to see each other as long as romance was left out of the equation. You’d happily obliged and incessantly kept a cobweb-covered carousel going years after it stopped being the main attraction. On the nights you left with Tom, Camren was tossed aside, forgotten like coat in a cloakroom, so it was only fair game that they’d tease and whine at you when Tom left in the morning. If Tom left in the morning.

Tom was ravenous, and you ended up on Camren’s nest of a sofa. “I love the bones off you.” he muttered, and Tom was perhaps too keen to grab a handful of your backside, he docked both hands into both your pockets, fingernails scrambling at little torn pieces of paper. His heart went into panic mode. He squirmed to get out. The piece of paper landed beside you as he forcefully yanked his hands out, feeling like a prisoner freed to a world that was only half of what it was before.

‘I’d be a crazy, blind man to ever leave you.’

The room fell silent. Maybe with Camren’s TV on low, you didn’t have the space to have these moments. To stop indulging in the highs of life and really examine why the lows were the lows.

“Tom. I’m demanding honesty.”

Tom sighs. He’s so different these days, so cold. He unentangles your bodies and huffs and puffs like a little kid who hasn’t gotten their way. This, before you’d even said anything. You don’t know if you can deal with this white noise. 

“I just want to know why we broke up.”

Tom chooses to look at the artwork opposite the couch, because his safe place is no longer his safe place. Because now that you’re demanding honesty, instead of taking it when it comes, his happy place becomes his vulnerable. Tom didn’t like to be vulnerable. It’s why he ended things in the first place.

“Well, we’re in uni..” Tom’s not sure if he wants to continue. He can feel the spotlight on him, you looking at him. He’s center stage but not one for attention. He’s suddenly painfully aware of the fragility of his answer, and worries it will go ‘splat!’ and make like a tomato, and then you’ll really never speak to him again. He furrows his brows as he looks down into his lap, twiddling and pulling at his fingers as if they had the answer (they used to) before he says it in the best way he knows how, your eyes boring into him. “We’re at uni, and there’s so many beautiful women and handsome men, and mighty attractive human beings walking around here, and it’s hard to believe one person you met at a stupid age could compare to the pool of people that are here.”

And how it sounds in Tom’s head, how he meant it is so much better to the way it sounds and means to you. Because words like ‘compare’ and ‘pool of people’ highlight how insignificant and worthless Tom felt he was to you. He felt he communicated how he insecure he was feeling. To you? Words like ‘comapre’ only shine a torch on your own insecurities and phrases like ‘pool of people’ makes you contemplate whether Tom was ever unfaithful, and it made you feel insignificant, worthless. 

“So, I’m definitely not the only person in your life right now.” Tom looks up and before he can say anything- “I’m not something you can butter up and taste when you get bored.”

“Y/N.” Tom starts. “That would never be the way I could see you.”

“I’d like you to leave, Tom.”

And leave he does.

Two weeks later, you and Camren found yourself in a predicament. “Can you get it out?” Camren had their hand down the drain of your bathtub. Cautiously, they launched two fingers in. “Can you get it out?” You asked again, nibbling lightly on the tip of your nails out of nervousness.

“Honestly, it doesn’t feel that big.” Camren stops their search after hooking their finger around the culprit of which blocked your plughole. “It’s a piece of fucking paper.” Camren sighs a breath of relief. “My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it.”

You breathe in.

Credit for the gif goes to: /dreamyyholland

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Upcoming Works

[lemonmeringueprincess]

The Mind of  a Broken Soldier (Leave Me Be, Chapter 2 )

Hello People of Tumblr ! It’s ya girl Hazel ! I am back again with another chapter which i am 100% sure NOBODY request it because nobody requested this story in the first place but i’m still continuing it because i feel like it. I was planning on continuing this story and give sly nods to WandaVision and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier here and there along the way. Not in this chapter but... maybe on future chapters. But I’ll see how this one goes and where my idea leads me to.

So you need to read Chapter 1 to be able to understand this chapter properly because this chapter is solely Bucky’s point of view of the reader and some random thoughts. I love reading novels and love their style of writing hence i aspire to write a decent and proper story fanfiction. I mean when you read some books, there will be several chapters viewed from that other characters’ perspective so i decided to implement that style to my story. 

So once again, thank you so much if you decided to pop by, read it and love it. Don’t be shy to pop by my message box to share some ideas you have or maybe you just wanna vibe together, I’d love to do that with you guys too. But please please please don’t be mean if you don’t like it. FYI, this chapter is slightly shorter than the first chapter. Love, Hazel .

Disclaimer: No disclaimer or any warnings. But definitely do me and yourself a favour and check out Chapter 1 so you can properly comprehend this chapter with ease :) 

Characters : Bucky x Reader; teeny weeny mention of Sam :)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Look man, I know we don’t really see eye to eye but I call to check on her…How’s she doin’?” Sam heaved a sigh of empathy from across the line.

I tightened my grip upon the thin, slick and smooth communication tool which now known as smartphone that I hadn’t had the chance to acquaint with. I let out a sigh of desperation, desperate of ways to haul her from the rabbit hole she’s now falling into. My fingers combing through my unruly long hair that’s bundled up in a disheveled bun. A bad habit of mine when I’m in desperation and anxiety.

“It’s been a week since Steve walked out from her life and if I’m being honest, Sam, she’s not doing very well. She’s…she’s been nestled up in her room since then.” I heaved another sigh of despair, my right human arm gripping the kitchen counter tightly in effort to prop myself while the other man-made hand still latched onto the phone.

“I even had to force feed her just to keep her alive for god sake.” I asserted whilst rubbing my right eye with the heel of my right human hand and quietly strutting towards her door. Leaning my side against the stark beige wooden door, plopping my ear against it to silently eavesdrop, just like how I had done countless times to check on her well-being without having to barge into the door. Soft whimper gradually shifted into muffled sobs. I closed my eyes, let my head hung low as if my neck was already tired enough to brace the weight of obstacles and desperation that merge into one and let out a long exhale.

“Gotta go, Sam… I’ll call you back.” I lowered my voice into mutter and hung up.

Even though I had known Steve for so many years, sometimes I still couldn’t decipher what’s in head. Recalling back to the 40s, way before he and I even considered enlisted into the army, women would always prefer me over Steve to take me out as their dancing partner when we’re at the bar. I felt bad for him and he’d sometimes complained that if only there’s the one out there who would see him through his frail and tiny stature. Seventy three years later, he abandoned the woman who’s been through with him through thick and thin, put up with his stupid decisions and god knows what more for eight years, for Peggy.

The woman whom he knew for only two years and only dated briefly.

The woman whom he’d share his infatuation and obsession with.

The woman he met at the army who didn’t even spare him a glance…not until after he’s gone through physical changes then eventually decided to give him a chance.

I wouldn’t even consider that as official if they only exchange flirting and longing glances at the office…

bar… 

and even Howard Stark’s Lab.

Clasping my hand upon the door handle, I levered it down and pushed open the door generating soft creaking from the hinge. I tiptoed my way in and left the door ajar. There she was… dressed down in only white camisole and panties while curled up in a fetal position upon the bed which was a bit too spacious now for a single person. Her back facing towards me, shoulders quivering from muffling her own sobs into whimper. 

Oh Steve… what have you done…

I slowly crept my way towards her and slowly sank myself on the bed. I was hesitant to lay next to her but I tried to push that thought away considering her mental health was already at stake. If I left her untended, she might eventually spiraled into deep depression and she’s already halfway there. So I laid next to her, draped my arm over her frail, delicate and small body to hold her close as if sheltering her from her own whirlpool of emotions . While offering her the comfort of silence, my mind wander off to how on earth Wanda dealt with her own grief… poor kid not only lost her significant other but also her twin brother and parents as I was informed by Sam. My train of thought was halted when I heard her croaked a rhetorical question, 

“H-h-he’s not coming back, is he? Did that prick even try second guessing his decisions?”

I wish I could do more than being her shoulder to cry on and dragging Steve back by the ear. That punk really took all the stupid with him. I contemplated whether I should say something decent to comfort and lift her spirit but I retracted. “I’m sorry, Doll… “ Were the only words I could muster from my still-healing disrupted mind. After Hydra’s infamous torturous events and being sent away to Wakanda to get my mind fixed. I found that I had difficulties of expressing my thought and feelings emotionally from the years of being over-electrocuted and memory-wiped conducted by Hydra, more strenuous than my old self. Not that I couldn’t do it but I realized it took more time to do so.

But even so I still try to rack my brain, dig deeper to find something nice to say; to make myself feel a tad better for at least doing something good in my life for once after the horrendous past, to at least counteract all those gruesome dirty work I unconsciously did to the others.

“I tried talking some sense into him, but he was very adamant of his decision. That punk…I’m really sorry…” i tried to string those words together carefully, worried that one step further or slight wrong move might set the fire ablaze even more. At this point, I was scared considering I had never connected to women emotionally. Sure I’d dated many women back in the 40s, but never considered them seriously… Now I know how it felt to wear their shoes, to know how it felt to be ditched and forgotten, even though I didn’t experience it firsthand.

Running out of options and words to say, I scooted closer whilst tightened my embrace and inhaling her scent, a hint of fresh bed linen and lavender; Steve hates it when women used too much perfume to the point it’s suffocating. I remember he’d always complained about the atrocious penetrating smell of perfume whenever we walked past the women at the bar.

“Doll… tell me what to do… I can’t bear seeing you breaking apart like this and I am running out of ways to numb your pain…” I consoled.

I used to be a good pep talker, a great one even; constantly spewing encouragement and lending a piece of advice or two to Steve. But I guess I had to shift my roles and be the good listener instead.

I did not expect her to open her heart and confide everything, as if she was confessing everything to me. I could only fervently listen to her anguish secrets that had been tormenting and keeping her awake. I felt really bad for the insecurity and self- doubt she had to endure these past years. Constant comparison with Peggy and doubting herself; nevertheless, she still fought her way to prove her worth… such strenuous and tenacious effort just to keep Steve’s attention to her…

Oh Steve… if only you’re in my position now, you’d know how much effort it took for her to keep up with your fantasy. They said love is full of sacrifices but not as much sacrifice from one side, both sides needed to make equal sacrifices to make things work, if one sacrifices too much, they’d weaken because they’re giving out too much and eventually died, just like her.

I knew Steve was always oblivious with things, but never as horrid as this. My heart sympathized and mourned for her. Eight years of relationship that she fought so hard to keep slipped out of her hands just like that.

“I-i-i-it h-h-h-urts, Buck… it hurts…He’s my first love, first kiss and…”

I felt her body shook under my embrace. No longer able to withstand her emotional suffer, I tried to soothe and lull her to sleep.

“I know, Doll. But I promise you’ll get through it, I promise to be with you every step of the way. We will get through it. I am not going anywhere. I am not going to walk out this door, not until you kick me out because you’re so sick of looking at my face. You have my word, Doll. I am staying.” I promised.

I promised myself I’d be there to pick up the pieces regardless of any circumstances, because it’s the right thing to do. I’d be there to hoist her up when no one else could. i’m doing what a good friend would do... It’s the right thing to do … Right? 

[yunhowhoitiss]

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐞𝐦)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k+

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, student au(?), strangers to lovers sorta

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after a particularly mediocre routine for the past two years, all it took was a sweet, pink haired boy to brighten your day. every day.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a teeny tiny bit of swearing 

𝐚/𝐧: I just hit 100 followers!! I didn’t know how to celebate so here’s a fic I wrote in a couple of hours (-_-;) i hope you enjoy it!

masterlist

You woke up to a room full of sunshine, and the early autumn air left drops of moisture outside your window. Upon hearing your roommate already out and about in the living room, you dragged yourself out of bed, flinching when your toes hit the cold floor tiles. Trudging out of your bedroom, you gravitated towards the apartment kitchenette. You sleepily scanned the living room to find that your roomie had moved all the furniture around to make space.

“Bobbi, I don’t mind you doing yoga every morning, but if you forget to put everything back one more time I’m cutting your mat to pieces,” you muttered as you poured yourself a cup of coffee.

“Well hello sunshine,” she laughed, “I made juice this morning, it’s in the fridge.” You hummed in response.

“Sure. Could you put some in a tumbler? I have to leave in 10 minutes and I’m not even dressed yet. I’ll miss my train if I diddle-daddle.”

“Of course!”

You and Bobbi had been roommates for a little over a year now after you decided to move off-campus. She was a friend of a friend who was looking for a roommate to split the rent, so figured you’d give it a chance. There are plenty of benefits to living off-campus: it saves money, you have more living space, you can gain some life experience, and Bobbi is a sweetheart– even if she refuses to be more than half-dressed around the house and never puts all the furniture back after her morning yoga. Your only issue when you first started renting the cosy two-bedroom apartment was finding a way to class without a car. Your best choice was to buy yourself a metro card and stick to taking the subway. The apartment wasn’t that far from campus, but you could afford to pay for the card and you had little-to-no motivation to walk or cycle to school nearly every day. At this point, you valued your time spent on the train listening to nothing but your favourite playlist as your me-time; every other minute of your day was spent studying, working, or sleeping. Somehow, this year didn’t feel significantly different from your first two years of school except for different classes, even more fees to pay, and an impossibly alluring boy that sat across from you on the subway.

You don’t remember the day the boy started taking the same train, but it wasn’t hard for you to start noticing him. He always sat idly in the seat across from you, backpack in his lap, head gently bouncing to whatever tunes played through his earphones and smiling when a good song came up on shuffle. Cute. When you first spotted him stepping off the platform into the train you couldn’t help but observe his relaxed style, soft features, and an aura that radiated kindness and comfort. On chilly mornings he even had the reddest of ears, matching your own ruby-kissed cheeks; but you weren’t cold at all. It quickly became a habit of yours to throw shy glances at him when he wasn’t looking, hoping that he’d remain oblivious to you very obviously checking him out. Jokes on you, he’d noticed you eyeing him long before you ever noticed yourself doing so.

You were so intrigued by his presence that you even started to consider putting away your headphones and sparking up a conversation, but he just looked so peaceful humming along contently to an unfamiliar song that you couldn’t find it in yourself to interrupt. You found yourself simply exploring his features, your eyes flitting from his slender fingers to the soft slope of his nose, to his chestnut irises who always seemed to sparkle like– wait. His eyes. They’re looking back at me. He’s looking back at me. In a panic, you whipped your head back towards the phone settled in your lap, feeling your cheeks, nose, and ears heat up out of embarrassment. Nice one, y/n. Despite your mortification, a shy smile swept over your face.

After multiple futile attempts to drown out the sound of Bobbi’s horrendous singing blaring from the kitchen, you groaned into your pillow one last time before tiredly swinging your legs over the side of the bed and checking your phone. Your eyes widened almost comically when the screen read 7:30 am.

“I slept through my alarm?” you muttered to yourself and let it sink in, “I slept through my alarm!” You dashed towards your closet, grateful that you’d prepared an outfit the night before. You hopped towards the bathroom while simultaneously wrestling with the zipper of your skirt. After half-assedly brushing your teeth and not even bothering with your hair, you darted through the living room searching for your bookbag. “G'morning, Ms I’ve-been-hit-by-a-tornado!” you winced at your roommate’s unbearably cheerful tone, “Want some eggs?”

“I’m late, Bobs, no time!”

“Well, I have some slightly burnt bacon if you want it,” she suggested, “and a couple of Eggo waffles…”

On your way out of the door, Bobbi stuffed something in your bag and sent you out with a friendly pat on your butt. You couldn’t help but smile at her kindness and made a mental note to repay it. Just a couple minutes later you were already running to your train in hopes you wouldn’t miss it. Reducing your pace to a speed-walk, you dug through every one of your pockets to pull out your phone which read 7:53 am. “Shit, I have two minutes!”

You slammed your card into the scanning machine– not that it helped you go any faster– and scuttled towards the train who’s doors were slowly sliding shut. Sprinting your way to the doors, you managed to slip through just before they closed, and looked around. Every seat was taken, and an abundance of people stood around, leaving nearly no space for you to situate yourself. With a heavy sigh, you tried to make your way through the mess of arms and shoulders, only to find yourself stuck between even more people. You figured you shouldn’t let your chaotic morning ruin your day and some good music would lift your spirits, so you searched your bag for your earphones; to no avail. I must’ve left them in my bedroom. Another defeated sigh escaped your already chapped lips, and you just dropped your gaze to your feet, lazily tracing shapes on the ground. You were unaware of the sympathetic gaze resting on you trying working out what had you so frustrated. You were still watching your feet when a large hand interrupted your focus, holding a white earbud. You lifted your head to be met with gentle eyes and a kind smile. Pretty boy?

“You look- uh, do you- I thought-” he muttered. You struggled to contain an amused smile. He looked like a lost puppy. The boy paused and bit his lip, “you wanna share?” He looked a lot taller from where you stood in front of him, much less than arms-length away. Thoughts of him flooded your mind, and you stared blankly into his eyes. He tilted his head in confusion, and you noticed his hand still holding the earbud in front of you. As you broke out of your daze a swirl of excitement and relief set off butterflies in your chest. You smiled giddily, unconscious to how obvious your excitement was.

“I’d love to!” You blurted loudly. The deep chuckle that followed your exclamation nearly sent your brain into overdrive. The boy lifted his hand and gently settled the earbud in your ear. Your shoulders visibly relaxed as soon as an unfamiliar song played in your ear, and you nearly forgot you were on the subway. The train must’ve stopped at a station because you were suddenly jerked forward and lost your balance; only to be met with a hard chest. You looked up at the pretty boy’s face, and he seemed just as surprised you were. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, but being in his arms was just so comfortable you didn’t really care anymore. A giggle erupted from his smiling lips. A giggle. You spent so much time thinking about how comfy the boy was that you hadn’t stepped back; you were still resting up against him. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You took a small step back and bit the inside of your cheek in embarrassment. The young man remained frozen in his spot, and his eyes danced over your features, as if deep in thought. He offered you a boyish half-smile then proceeded to do what you had hoped he would do for months.

“My name’s Yunho, it’s nice to meet you…” he trailed off, realizing he hadn’t asked you for your name.

“Y/n.” You answered.

“Y/n…” he mumbled, “that’s a pretty name.” His half-smile turned even further upwards, forming a comforting grin that turned his eyes to half-moons.

He couldn’t be any more beautiful.

[samdeancass]

Bruises

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Derek x Mccall!reader

Genre: Fluff, implied smut, tiny bit of angst, Humour

Characters: Derek, Y/N, Scott, Stiles

Descriptuon: Derek and Y/N have a bit of a rough sex life. When Scott finds bruises on his little sisters arms, he and Stiles try to figure out what could have happened. When they find out Y/N’s secret, they go and confront Derek.

You had been keeping a HUGE secret from your brother, Scott. You were in a relationship with his frenemy, Derek. You didn’t want Scott to find out, knowing how he would react. You didn’t plan on him finding out anytime soon, but your secret began to unravel the day Scott found bruises on your arm

You and Derek had been sneaking around with each other for quite a few months now. You both had to be careful that Scott didn’t find out, as Scott and Derek haven’t been on the best of terms recently. 

You have a very rough sex life with Derek. Even though he doesn’t mean to, he leaves bruises on you after a very rough sex session. You had to try extra hard to cover up these bruises so nobody would figure out what was going on, or get the wrong idea. This is why, on a very hot summers day, you were wearing a long sleeve shirt. The bruises Derek left on you from the night before were the worst yet. There was no way you could cover those up with make up.

Scott became very confused when he seen you walk out of your room in a long sleeve shirt, as he knows you always complain when it’s too hot and never wear anything that doesn’t coincide with the weather.

“Err, Y/N. You do know that it’s like, 100 degrees outside?” Scott tilted his head to the side, wondering what on earth could possess you to wear what you were wearing.”Yeah, and?” You continued to walk down the hallway to the stairs, hoping to shake Scott away from his question. “Well, I’m just wondering why you’re wearing a shirt like that in a temperature like this?”. You stopped halfway down the stairs and turned behind you to face him. “ To be honest, I really can’t feel the temperature today. I guess I’m getting sick.” You turned around and continued down the stairs. Scott shrugged and walked after you.

You stopped in the kitchen to grab your lunch to put it in your bag. As you put it in, your sleeve rolled up and showed the dark purple bruises on your forearms. Looking around, you slowly rolled them back down, relieved that nobody seen the markings. You zipped up your bag and walked out the door to your car, leaving Scott very confused and a little angry at who, or what, could have left those markings on your arms.

When Stiles came to pick up Scott for school, Scott was still thinking about the markings on your arms and decided to ask Stiles for some advice. “Hey, Stiles. I seen some bruises on Y/N’s arms this morning and I’m a little worried about her. I want to find out what’s happened to have caused them”.

Stiles turned to Scott with wide eyes. Even though you were Scott’s little sister, Stiles always thought of you as his little sister to. He is just as protective of you as Scott is, and will not let anything happen to you. “What do you mean ‘bruises’? You don’t think somebody could be abusing her do you? Maybe a boyfriend that we don’t know about?”

Scott’s werewolf senses kicked in then and his eyes flashed red. “I hope not, otherwise I’ll have to go against my ‘no killing humans’ rule.” 

Stiles started to think about how they could find out who this ‘mystery boyfriend’ is and came up with an idea. “Well, instead of becoming a rage-fuelled murderous werewolf, how about we just tail Y/N for today and find out who she is hanging out with, maybe then we’ll find this boyfriend we know nothing about.”

Scott nodded in agreement and they carried on the journey to school in silence.

All throughout the day, Scott and Stiles tailed you, discussing who could be putting those bruises on you. Scott was becoming more angry as the day went on. He wanted to find out who the monster was who was doing this to you, and give them a good punch. 

By the end of the day, Scott was furious and began to punch Stiles’s jeep in frustration. “Dude, my jeep!”. Scott turned around to him and flashed his eyes at Stiles. “At this moment, I don’t care about you’re frickin’ jeep!”. Stiles backed away from Scott with his hands up in surrender and looked around to the entrance of the school were he spotted you getting into a car. “Dude, calm down. Look over there, Y/N’s getting into a car. It looks so familiar, I just can’t think of who owns a disgusting car like that. They really should think about buying a jeep....” As Stiles began to ramble, Scott looked up and peered at the car, instantly recognising who was driving. “Stiles, shut up and get into the jeep. I know who’s driving.”

As both Scott and Stiles scrambled into the jeep to follow the car, Scott’s breathing was becoming more and more heavy with anger and his eyes began to turn to a darker shade of red. “So, Scott. Care to share who it is who’s driving that car with your sister inside.” 

Scott looked out the window and tried to compose himself before he said his name. “It’s Derek. Derek is hitting my sister. I am going to beat the ever living lights out of him.” Stiles tried his best to keep himself calm while also trying to keep Scott calm enough to still safely drive.

When Derek’s car pulled into the parking lot of his apartment block, Derek spotted the jeep in his rear view mirror and groaned, hitting his head on the steering wheel. “Y/N. Your brother and that annoying pest he calls a friend have been following us.” Eyes widening, you looked out of the back of the car, and sure enough, there was the big bulk of a jeep parked right behind you. 

Scott and Stiles got out of the jeep, just as you and Derek got out of the car. Stiles ran towards you and grabbed you, pulling you back to the jeep. “STILES! What are you doing?” “It’s Ok, Y/N. You’re safe now.” You pulled away from Stiles’ grasp and looked up at him. “I was already safe, you idiot!” Stiles looked at you, a look of dread washing over his face. “Ooooohhhh! We seem to have gotten the wrong end of the stick. We thought that Derek was hitting you.” “WHAT?!” You looked behind you and seen Scott making his way towards Derek.

“What gives you the right to hit my sister? What has she ever done to you? She doesn’t deserve to be treated like that!” Scott was furious at this point, even more so when Derek looked at Scott in a confused way. “Scott, what the hell are you talking about? I have never hit Y/N. I would never dream of it.” Derek spotted you in the background and gave you a very soft smile. “I seen the bruises on Y/N’s arms this morning. How in the hell do you explain those?”.

At the mention of the bruises, you could feel your face going bright red. You knew exactly where this conversation was leading. You walked over to Scott and pulled him away from Derek, before he could act on his anger. “Scott, me and Derek are together, we have been for a while. I didn’t want to do this here, but those bruises that you seen, they aren’t from him hitting me, they are from the intimate act people do when they are in love.” You whispered this to Scott, not wanting the whole town of Beacon Hills to know what you do behind closed doors. Scott tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes. “Intimate act?”.

“Sex, Scott. Sex. Those bruises are from me and your sister having sex. There, ya happy?” Derek heard the whole conversation thanks to his werewolf hearing and was becoming increasingly bored with Scott’s naivety to the ‘intimate acts’.

Scott’s face quickly became red and began to stumble over his words. “Oh, er, ok. Sorry.” He quickly scurried away to Stiles before the situation could become even more awkward. 

“That was mortifying! I definitely didn’t want Scott to find out this way. He is literally going to keep me under lock and key after finding out about what we get up to.” You walked over to Derek and placed your head on his chest and moaned in frustration. 

“Well, looks like I’m going to have to keep you all to myself then, doesn’t it?” Derek growled and chased you into the apartment block, leading the best sex you have ever had.

[astralaffairs]

How do you think Phillip would handle an anxiety attack/depressive episode? As someone with depression, I experience these a lot and having someone there with me is nice

hey honey!! i empathize w u 100% — I've struggled w/ depression for years. that said, i kinda struggled w this, since having ppl with me when i go thru depressive episodes can be difficult for me, so i'm super sorry if this doesn't 100% reflect your experiences!!! as much as ik where you're coming from, i think my own perspective n experiences kinda colored how this turned out (also it got v long n self indulgent oops)

-----

"Hey, princess, you around?" Your eyes widened at the words, echoing down the hall of your apartment from your living room. "Y/N?"

You didn't respond at first, weren't sure what to say. You liked hearing the sound of his voice; it was a comfort in itself, but you also weren't sure whether you wanted him to find you in your room, still in bed in your pajamas, your now-empty bag of Fritos perched on the pillow beside you. You almost regretted giving him a key. You were exhausted — it was no secret for anyone who caught a glance of your half-lidded stare, the bags under your eyes. You were propped up against a pillow at the headboard, but you were still slouched over into your bent knees, curled into yourself.

You could see that he'd flipped the kitchen light on, its furthest reaches flooding the hall toward your bedroom. You wondered whether that'd mask the light coming from your room.

Your phone lit up beside you, but you couldn't see what the message you'd received actually said. It was instead filed under the notification, 'Pip 🥺💞: 7 unread messages.'

You reached over to put your phone on your bedside table, but when you did, your bed creaked loudly. You winced at the noise. Apparently, it also catalyzed the footsteps that'd stalled in your front room to kick back into action, now headed in your direction.

"Baby?" His voice was laced with concern, now. "You back here?"

When he reached your room, he raised an eyebrow, knocked lightly on the doorframe, and you sighed. "Hey, is everything okay? Can I come in?"

You didn't respond immediately, hesitant to speak for fear of him hearing the apathy that you knew had taken root deep in your voice. Eventually, after a long moment of apprehensive silence, you said, "Yeah. Yeah, of course you can."

How quiet, tired your words sounded only heightened the worry in his knit brow. His actions were tentative as he approached you. Your body was tense as he took a seat at the foot of your bed. "What're you doing in bed? It's almost 6 PM."

"What, I'm not allowed to be in bed in my own apartment?" Your voice was unnecessarily combative, and his eyebrows shot up at the sudden hostility.

"I didn't say that. Of course you are," he replied, and how gentle his tone was had you immediately struck with a pang of guilt. "But your laptop's off, and I know you've been silencing your phone. I just mean... genuinely, what have you been doing in here?"

You shrugged halfheartedly, not meeting his eyes. "I dunno. It's my day off; I don't have to be productive all the time, Philip." Again, when you spoke, it was accusatory, and Philip pursed his lips.

"Did I do something? Are you angry with me?"

Being branded as 'angry' usually would've multiplied your frustration tenfold — no, you weren't angry, but he'd showed up at your apartment unannounced and proceeded to question your lazy evening in; didn't you at least have a right to be annoyed? — but his searching gaze looked so troubled when it met yours that you couldn't bring yourself to be. Ultimately, you shook your head.

"No, you didn't. I just..." When you trailed off, you'd intended to finish the sentence, but you realized you didn't have a decent explanation to offer him. He sighed.

"Something's wrong. Talk to me; c'mon." You didn't say anything, and he scooted across your mattress to sit beside you, discarding your empty, crinkled snack bag to the floor. "Y/N?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine," you murmured, and though you offered him a tired smile, he frowned.

"Hey, no you're not." When he reached for your hand, you flinched, more due to instinct born of the tension in your bloodstream than to any real intention. Nonetheless, it took him aback. He was about to pull away, but when you relaxed, he laced his fingers tentatively into yours. You didn't rebuke him. "Y'know I'm here for you, right?"

The smile you managed to contrive at that was, in your opinion, more convincing than your previous one. "I know, baby. I love you. But really, I'm doing alright. I've just been tired today; I wanted to come take a nap. Sorry if I'm being grumpy."

You thought your words would've assuaged his concerns; they had with everyone who'd heard them before. However, Philip let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. "Please, don't bullshit me. I know you too well for that."

Your light laugh in response felt like an adequate supplement, and you squeezed his hand. "Relax. I'm not bullshitting, okay?"

You held firm on your smile as he eyed you warily, and when he leaned over to kiss you, you relished in the touch, eyes fluttering shut as his nose skimmed your skin. He didn't pull all the way away, though, resting his forehead against yours.

His lips met your cheek, and against your skin, he whispered, "Stop hiding. I love you, and you're only worrying me more."

He took your chin in his free hand as he pulled just inches away, watching carefully when your eyes widened. "C'mon, what makes you think—?"

"I know you." He cut you off firmly, the words leaving little room for protest or contradiction. You didn't like how exposed you felt. "And I can tell that something's seriously wrong."

A moment passed in silence; your eyes darted across his expression, searching for any degree of uncertainty, but he was set fully in his convictions. You bit your lip. "Okay," you finally said, voice tiny. "I... I'm sorry, Philip."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I just want you to be honest with me." He reached up to smooth his hand over your hair, it eventually coming to rest at the nape of your neck. You nodded.

"I know." You ran your thumb over his knuckles, staring down at where your hands were interlinked. "But... I don't know what to tell you. Nothing happened, and there's nothing you can fix."

"Then what isn't okay?" he asked. "What can you talk to me about? What's weighing on you?"

How earnest his voice was only left you frustrated, sitting beside him with no answer to give. "I don't know what to tell you. I'm what's been ruining my day."

"What d'you mean?"

You huffed, tried to pull your hand away as you turned your head, struggling to articulate anything. You felt stupid; you knew whatever would come out of your mouth would sound stupid. But he didn't let your hand go, and you found yourself easing back toward his body.

"This whole day has just... it's been so fucking hard. And I haven't even done anything. I'm still in bed, for god's sake; I've been useless." Your own words made your skin crawl. You sounded so whiny; why couldn't you form a thought without coming off as pathetic?

"It's your day off, right? Why should you be productive?" he echoed your own words back to you with a kind smile, and your involuntary resentment eased in the slightest.

"Thanks, Pip. But..." You swallowed. "I'm so tired. Everything I try to do feels so exhausting. The reason my laptop's still off is because trying to find something to watch was just... making me feel worse."

He nodded. "I'm sorry." You were momentarily disappointed when he released your hand, but that same arm then snaked around your waist, and he paused, not yet trying to pull you into him. "This okay?"

How gently, how tenderly he was treating you your fatigued gaze slowly softening. "Yeah." You shut your eyes when he held you close, leaning you into his body. He was so warm, and he was so good to you. "Love you," you murmured.

"I love you, too." The small, weak smile you gave was all but imperceptible when he kissed the top of your head. "So, what d'you think's going on, then? Are you getting sick? Do I need to take you to the doctor? Pick up some antibiotics?"

The concern in his eyes had returned when you glanced up to him once more, and you pursed your lips. "No, no, it's not... I don't need the doctor, or any ibuprofen, or whatever," you murmured, and your tone sounded more hopeless than you realized. You'd burrowed your face into Philip's side, by then, and you couldn't see it when he pursed his lips. The despair in his eyes was heavier than you'd have guessed.

"Alright, princess," he said quietly. When a beat passed, you thought he was going to leave it at that, but his voice was apprehensive when he continued. "Is there... something else you know that has you so spent?"

The noise of discontent you let out into his t-shirt was almost a groan. You weren't overly pleased with his hitting the mark, but after a long pause, you gave a small, weak nod. "Yeah," you whispered. "But it isn't something you can fix."

He didn't hesitate, then, to pull you into his lap, though the action caught you by surprise. Both his hands were holding you to him by the waist; you shifted in his grasp, turning to rest against his chest, your arms looped around his neck. "Then it's a good thing you aren't broken." You lifted your head from his chest, turning it to look up at him curiously, and one of his hands left your waist, instead coming to cup your cheek. "My sister's been dealing with depression for most of her life. I get that I'll never know what it's like, but if you're willing to talk to me, trust me when I say I won't take it lightly."

His thumb sweeped across your cheekbone as you stared up at him in surprise. He furrowed his eyebrows. "What's up? Was my assumption off-base?

At that, you let out a huff, surprised but no longer bitter. "No. You're just too perceptive for your own good sometimes; you know that?" you murmured, and he laughed. You could feel it reverberate in his chest against your body.

"Not too perceptive for your own good, though, apparently." He raised an eyebrow at you, expectant, and you rolled your eyes. When you didn't respond, he continued, "How come you never told me?"

"I don't know." You sniffed. "Depression's just so fucking stupid. Like, sorry, your brain chemicals are fucked up, so you're going to spend the next week rotting in bed. What kind of deal is that?"

The droll annoyance in your words made him smile. Anything was better than the apathy. "Really, princess, who comes up with this stuff?" he replied, mirth laced into his tone as he plastered on a look of annoyance. You cracked a small smile.

"I dunno, but I'd like to have a talk with them sometime. Give 'em a piece of my mind."

He laughed, absentmindedly rubbing circles into your lower back. "You should. Stick it to the man." The way he nodded decisively made you purse your lips, small smile threatening to widen into a watery grin. "But until then, is there anything I can do for you right now? What have you done today?"

You let out a heavy sigh against his body, with that, once again fully present in your wreck of a bedroom. "I showered, and I ate a family-size bag of chips."

"Hey, so you got out of bed." He nudged you with his shoulder, wearing an encouraging smile. "That's something, right?"

"Mmhmm. And then I got right back into bed," you huffed.

"Alright. What have you eaten today? Anything?"

You raised an eyebrow. "We just covered this. Family-sized bag of chips."

"That's not exactly a meal, baby," he said, and his furrowed brow made you scowl. "Hey, I don't mean to downplay that; I'm really glad you ate. I just wanna know if I can get you anything else."

You shrugged. "I'm not hungry."

"Is there any food that you'd eat right now if you had it in front of you?"

There was a pause; you didn't move, gaze blank as you considered it, but again, you shrugged. "I dunno. Chocolate sounds nice. But I don't need anything."

"You need to eat."

"That's so unhealthy," you said quietly. Just your single day's worth of poor eating habits had you feeling beyond lousy about your body; you had no desire to see a mirror until at least the next day.

"What's unhealthy is letting yourself starve, princess." You rested the side of your head against his chest once more, having no desire to meet his eyes. You didn't want his stare to be judgmental.

"'M not starving," you mumbled, and one of his hands rose to the back of your head, holding you close as you leaned into him.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," he whispered, and his thumb brushed across the skin of your neck. "Relax. I love you. I can go and get you anything you want to eat."

"No, no, don't leave. Don't leave me," you murmured, and your hold on him tightened. "Just stay with me. Please. I'll deal with everything I've been neglecting in the morning."

He sighed. "Baby, you know I want to, but I'm worried about you. Someone's gotta take care of you if you aren't gonna take care of yourself."

"Later." You looked up at him, and he could see your distress in your gaze. "I promise, Philip. I'm just so tired. Just wanna stay in bed. Want you here with me."

"Okay." He kissed your forehead. "Okay, I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?"

"I promise, princess."

[alolowrites]

Comforting Words

Summary: You return to the U.A. dorms following a disastrous date. Surprisingly Bakugou offers some “comforting words” to you.

Author’s note: As promised, here is the story to celebrate reaching 100 followers!!! Thank you all so much for this! Story is kinda a sequel to “Laundry Night” (idk) ??? Either way, it just seemed fitting to share another Bakugou story to mark such an occasion.

Enjoy!

~~~

I’m so stupid, stupid, stupid!

You figuratively and literally slapped yourself as you marched to your dorm building at like 10:35pm on a Saturday night. Marching to the shared kitchen, you carelessly threw your ice cream pint onto the counter. As you rummaged through the drawers, a growl escaped your mouth when you couldn’t find one spoon. Any other day you would see spoons left and right, yet they magically disappeared when you needed them the most.  

Searching through the billions of utensils in the drawer, you finally found the main prize. Your attention went to the ice cream pint and your fingers furiously tugged on the lid to no avail. Now you were on the verge to punch someone. Why was the universe being so cruel? Did you accidentally piss them off? Are they having some mood swing, because honey this ain’t it.

Why won’t you open?!

“Are you really so pathetic that you can’t open the flimsy ice cream cover?”

You stopped struggling and slammed both your hands against the counter. Closing your eyes, you breathed through your nostrils to calm yourself. Bakugou saw your back and the harsh glare peering over it.

“I’m not in the mood, Bakugou,” you snarled at him. “If you want to insult me, give me two to three business days.”

“Should I send a Google calendar invite to remind you?” He mocked.

Of course he threw that at you.

A piece of hair fell over your eyes and you blew it away. Grabbing the cold pint, you spun around to face your tormentor. Bakugou leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and wore his favorite black shirt.

It was also your favorite shirt. The fabric shamelessly emphasized his Spartan-like muscles as a result of his vigorous training. Feeling your eyes rake at his tone arms, you mentally forced some self-control. You never wanted to give this buffoon the satisfaction that you admired his top-notch physique.

No…you would never hear the end of it from him. So to save face, you diverted your eyes back to the ice cream pint freezing your hand and frowned.

Stupid hormones.

Without looking up, you asked: “Why are you here?”

“You were being too loud,” Bakugou complained. You barked out a dry laugh while snapping your head up.

“I’m being to loud!?” You pointed to yourself with eyebrows raised. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. DIE-DIE-DIE! I’m surprised you’re not croaking like a dying frog.”

He ignored your comment. “You’re upset, what the hell happened?”

“Why do you care?” You shot back at him.

“Answer the fucking question, idiot, I’m not asking again.”

So now he wants to be a damn therapist?

“Hmph, fine.” You lifted the cover and reclined against the counter to make yourself comfortable. “My date was an asshole. Everything was fine at first, you know? He took me to this nice restaurant and we were hitting it off. Everything was perfect—the mood, the scenery, the food. Then one thing lead to another,” you lowered your chin, “and he kissed me…”

Distracted, you didn’t catch Bakugou’s fists clenching and his scowl growing deeper. “I didn’t ask for a recap of your crappy romantic date!”

“It’s important to the damn story!” You yelled at him, thrusting your spoon his way. “And you’re the one who asked! If I have to suffer through this date again, you’re suffering with me so buckle up, firecracker.”

Said firecracker seethed, but stayed quiet. You took it as sign to continue. “So anyway, he kissed me and next thing you know, some lady’s claws ripped me apart from him. They were actual claws by the way, like her nails were soooo long, I was surprised she didn’t scratch my face.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“Apparently the guy used me to get his ex-girlfriend jealous so they can get back together,” you venomously spat out. “I gave that guy a Texas-smash slap and threw cold water at him. With ice cubes, for good measure too.”

A second later, you angrily stabbed the ice cream which took Bakugou by surprised. However, he quickly recovered and watched as you blindly attacked the delicious delicacy that was a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream pint.

“I felt so humiliated—”

Stab.

“—and used—“

Stab, stab.

“—and ugh!”

The spoon dropped. It clanked against the floor and you didn’t move for a moment. With flushed cheeks, you discarded the ice cream that was now a swirling mess. Slumping backwards, your back hit the kitchen drawers while you pinched the bridge of your nose. Tears dangerously emerged in your eyes, but you forced them to stay put. There was no way you were going to cry in front of him.

One hand weakly gestured towards Bakugou. You felt like a deflated balloon. “Go ahead, tell me that I’m just a dumbass with peasant problems.”

“Well you are a dumbass,” he started and you figured much. “But you’re a dumbass for moping over some garbage idiot like him.”

…what?

You didn’t expect that kind of response. Scrunching your eyebrows together, you gave him a ridiculous stare. Bakugou sighed loudly and slid his hand over his face as if he needed to spell out something so obvious.

“Look, you’re sulking over an asshole who never respected you,” he explained. Your ears carefully listened to every word. “Even though you stood up for yourself, you’re still letting that bastard win by acting all sad and shit.”

You stupidly blinked.

“Quit whining and realize he was never in your league in the first place,” he grunted as his crimson irises narrowed at you. “He’s not worth shedding tears over for, so don’t you dare start fucking crying.”

He left you speechless and you gawked at him.

Never in your life did you expect Bakugou to comfort someone…well, comfort anyone in general really. Did he give you a soft cuddle, patting your head saying everything was going to be okay? Hell no. Instead you got the Bakugou-version of it where he slapped some sense into your sorry-ass for moaning after some douche.

“I hate how right you areee,” you groaned dramatically into the air. Bakugou snorted at your reaction, but didn’t say anything else. Bringing your head down, you let out a soft chuckle and grinned at him. “I shouldn’t let that bastard make me feel so shitty. How dare he make me almost act out a cliche movie scene where I cry myself into an ice cream pint. The nerve of him…”

“Damn right.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but—” you inhaled for the melodramatic effect “—thank you, Bakugou, for your comforting, albeit unconventional, words.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered while looking away, hoping you didn’t catch the blush flaring up his cheeks. “Just as long as you stop stomping in here like a damn rhino.”

Your face briefly fell. “Ok, rude.”

He shot you a tiny smirk and the butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

Suddenly the floor became more interested and you remembered the mess you made. A curse flew out of your mouth as you snatched a paper towel to clean up the spot. After finding another spoon, you looked at your ice cream on the counter. It was slightly melted, but there was no way you were going to throw it away. In front of you was a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and you spent good money on this baby.

“So,” you tapped your finger on the pint and took one bite of your dessert. “I guess we’re done here.”

“Guess so,” he nonchalantly shrugged.

Very well then, you thought as you slowly walked towards the doorframe where Bakugou stood and paused. It took all your willpower not to shrink away considering how close you two were. Your eyes boldly stared into his and neither of you said a word. The room was so silent you prayed Bakugou couldn’t hear your heart throbbing loudly against your chest.

No. Not yet.

“Well,” you broke the silence and flashed him a playful smile. “At least I now know there is a nice troll under the bridge.”

Not missing a beat, you rushed out of the kitchen with a hearty laugh before Bakugou had a chance to blast your annoying face out of existence.

~~~

Fun fact: originally this story was not going to be published. It was sitting in my “Unreleased Cuts” folder for some time because I wasn’t feeling the plot’s direction. Left it alone, came back to it and fixed it up. 

And here we are! 

Thank you again for reading :)

[shipuu]

So i find tratie adorable so this how i think they got together

We are gonna make this realistic not that “fell in love when we were 16 and somehow managed to stay together through everything”. Nothing wrong with that trope. But like i said ~~realistic

Katherine gardner - originally from washington dc. She went to gerogetown uni.

She has always been passionate about the plants and first decided to major in Agricultural Studies, but then she didnt really like it.

So she switched to environmental studies. Not exactly about plants per se. But still related to the environment.

She sees the way humans are destroying the world and genuinely wants to help

Shes got good friends in college, sleeps around a little bit. Has a good relationship with her father.

Extremely hard working. Work ethic 1000000. Graduated with honors. Got a job at an enviromental consultancy firm in new york.

Travis off to college. I believe he went to a college in ny to be close to CHB and connor. Probably a community college seeing as he couldnt afford other unis

Nothing wrong with that. His relationship with his mom is rocky. So she wouldn’t be able to help out.

Majored in business administration. He takes it lightly his first year, seeing as how he isn’t used to the education system because he lived at CHB his whole life.

He genuinely wants to be successful. To have a life for himself and connor. So after first year kicks his butt, he works hard and raised his GPA the following years.

Extremely good at math and numbers. He steal messes around, playing pranks on people but nothing harmful. Also sleeps around a lot. (Nothing wrong with that)

Malcolm pace made an offhanded comment about how travis should start a new club at uni called “how to steal” and he considers it before shoving the idea away.

During the summer, he helps chiron with any business related things (tax forms, buying shirts, selling strawberries). Connor and him still play a lottttt of pranks

Graduated with honors. Lives in brooklyn With connor who is currently attending college. They still visit CHB from time to time.

So this one time, he steals something but then gets caught. Nothing expensive. A petty offence really. He calls chiron up to save his ass but chirons like NOPE.

So he gets charged. And the court gives him community service since it really was a petty offence.

He has to work with those “plant a tree” volunteer services during the weekend.

Katie is also volunteering there for fun and mostly because during the weekend, she has time to spare.

Travis goes there and is genuinely surprised to see her since he hasnt seen her in 4 years. ( she doesnt visit CHB as often. And even when she does she doesnt see the stolls)

Katie is genuinely surprised too.

First day, they dont talk the whole morning- just planting trees. Katie is still curious as to why he is here. So by the afternoon she asks him.

Shes isnt one bit surprised about the stealing thing. She also forgave them about the Easter Bunny cabin incident as it was 8 years ago??¿¿

Hes kinda nervous and blushing when he tells her the truth. Tbh he had a tiny crush on her back when they were teens. But it sorta went away, as they didnt interact much.

They catch up and its mostly just small talk. The next day, they talk more and katie realises travis has changed. He isn’t as annoying anymore. Travis also realises that katie has changed as she doesnt lecture and scold people anymore. Shes become more chill

The volunteering thing is over so they exchange numbers, promising to keep in touch. However over text, their convo is dry seeing as they arent THAT close and with their busy adult lifes. They slowly drift apart.

Fast forward another year. Katie works at her environmental firm and they start a new project. The firms brings in business consultants because the project has to be a success. One of the consultants is obvio TRAVISSSSSS.

Again both of them are surprised to see each other. Like always they dont really talk in the beginning. Mostly small talk. But then they get paired together for a part of the project.

So then it begins, late nights, coffee runs, laughter at 11pm in the office. Trying to work on numbers and investors and getting the most out reach on this project.

They get to know each other on a much higher level. They start to like each other but wont say anything.

Travis admits katie is gorgeous. And katie admits travis is handsome (not to each other. They just think about it)

2 months later, katie invites travis over to work on the project, trying to come up with an action plan. He brings over beer. And they settle in. Its 2 am. And they both are tipsy.

The project is long forgotten, and start talking about weird things like is cereal soup? Is gucci even worth it?

Its 2 am. Katies apartment is dim because of the lighting. They are both drunk. Sitting on the floor, extremely close to each other. Travis find hers absolutely gorgeous. Her cheeks are flushed coz of the alcohol. And shes wheezing so hard coz of what he said.

Katie thinks he looks hot as hell. And with his knowledge on business she finds him 1000 times more attractive.

Travis kisses her first, he pulls back about to apologise, before katie grabs him by the shirt and kisses him back. They have drunk sex on the carpet.

When travis wakes up the next morning, he realises he fucked up. Sleeping with a coworker. What was he thinking? You dont mix business and pleasure.

So he leaves her apartment. And when katie wakes up to see him not there she is kinda hurt.

They see each other in the office next day. And travis cant make eye contact with her. Katie is super confused because she thought he had a good time.

When everyone goes to lunch. She grabs travis and pushed him into a broom closet. And practically interrogates him.

Travis admits he likes her and she says the same. They’re super close to each other(coz of the tiny closet). The electricity in the air is charged. And they kiss again.

Travis doesnt wanna have sex in a closet so he picks her up, slams her on a table in the closet, bunches her tight skirt around her hips, and goes down her.

And katies just trying not to moan loudly. But failing miserably. Travis stoll knows how to eat pussy.

The rest of the day is filled with luscious glances, slight touches, her putting her hand on his thigh under the table and slowly inching upwards.

They meet up that evening at her apartment. And they agree to start dating. They keep it lowkey not yet telling connor.

After 1 month, they tell connor who btw called it from day one. He’s extremely happy for them.

Travis gets a bit jealous when guys flirt with katie and vice versa. But the two them only have eyes for each other.

Katie gets paired with another guy from the office for some work. Travis also notices that the guy checks katie out a lot, even though she is oblivious.

because of their conflicting work schedules, and how they never get to see each other. Katie working on the project with “that guy”travis is busy with his work, and helping connor out in his senior year. Late nights where they miss each other so much

And thats when their first real fight happens. Hes yelling. Shes yelling. Travis gets insecure that katie doesnt want him anymore. Katies positive they are gonna break up.

In a last ditch effort, she goes to his place. And have a painfully truthful conversation on how they both messed up. They promise to do better and communicate more

That night they make ~~love~~ to each other. Not sex, LOVEEEEE.

After that its smooth sailing. They have fights now and then, but nothing they cant handle.

Their first “I love you’s” is a week after they made love to each other. She was making dinner ( shes a fucking amazing cook) and travis is standing behind her arms around her waist, chin on her shoulders.

And they’re talking and he says “well thats one of things i love about u” and after a second he realises what he said and practically freezes. Katie stops stirring the pasta and turns to look at him.

They both just kinda stare at each other and travis is so fucking nervous and then katie breaks out into the most breathtaking smile he has ever seen. she tells him i love u back.

Their kissing turns to making out and he picks her up, slams her on the kitchen counter and they have sex. (They also turned off the stove dw)

2 orgasms later. They finally eat dinner. And things between them are fucking amazing

After dinner they retreat back to the bedroom where katie is screaming his name and travis’ grunting heavily.

And it’s complete bliss.....

Also side note. Hermes and demeter 100% approve

[itrytowrite-things]

Shifting into the supernatural

Sam x reader (platonic), Dean x reader (platonic)

Summary: Y/N has a tendency to leave her world for the supernatural word and Sam Wonder why. 

A/N: From what I understand shifting is a super realistic version of lucid dreaming. It is a big thing on tik tok at the moment. So that is where I got the inspiration for this fic. I have not attempted to shift realities so I am not 100% sure how it works so if you are interested in attempting to shift watch a youtube video and do research.

I sat in the small hotel bathtub. My knees pulled into my chest at an attempt to make myself as small as possible. The tub was only about 4 feet long and half that deep, which didn't mix well when you put two people in it. Especially when one of them was Sam Winchester who stood at 6’4” without shoes. Sam let out a small grunt as he tried to sit up taller, his left foot kicking me in the back. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, moving around trying to fit his legs at a more comfortable angle. I quickly shushed him. Dean was just outside of the door, a girl screaming at him as he calmly tried to explain why he was also sleeping with her friend after their night of so-called “passion”. It would be quite funny if he hadn’t forced Sam and I into the bathroom after getting the angry call from said girl claiming she was coming to get “something off her chest”. I am pretty sure he thought she was gonna come in, rant about her day, and then take him away to have a “good” time, meaning Sammy and I would only be in the bathtub for the five minutes it took Dean to suggest heading back to her place. But when she came in yelling about Dean being a “no good dirty bastard” we knew we would be in here for a while.

The creaking under Sam's weight felt like the loudest sound for miles, even though it hardly made a dent against the sound waves traveling from the hotel room. The yelling soon grew repetitive and old, no longer being gossip to hold against Dean. I looked at Sam for a while, trying not to laugh as he grimaced about the details the girl was giving about her night with Dean. Dean’s voice soon came into the conversation. Sam and I had both zoned it out at that point. 

“Kid, there actually is something I have been meaning to ask you,” I nodded at him to continue. “Why do you come here?'' The question stumped me. I knew why I shifted into their world everyday, why I sat anxiously in my last class waiting for the bell to ring so I could come here and be with them. Why I hold in a tiny breath every time I start to shift, praying that this still works. I had just never had to put those feelings into words. Now all of the words I was  thinking felt wrong. Like the weight of them didn’t match the weight in my heart. 

“Not that we don’t love to have you here Y/N. I mean we wait around all morning for you to get here. I just don’t understand why. You’ve told us about your world. There are no monsters or demons or angels in your world. No looming apocalypse every year or death waiting around the corner. You are safe there, so why come here?” 

They waited for me, they sat here anxiously waiting to see if I would show up. That’s why I came here, I thought. 

“I matter here, Sammy,” he looked confused at me, his puppy dogs eyes shining through. “At home I am always second best. You know the friend you talk to after your first friend said no. Or the filler friend until you can find someone better to replace me. I am average in my classes and just in life in general, but here; I matter. I am on Team Free Will, saving the earth.” My voice starts to lose its edge and volume. “I am truly loved here, you and Dean and Cas make everything better. I guess because you care about me so deeply, that it makes me care about myself. So you’re right, no death threatening event in my world, but also, no you. No Dean. No Cas. Hell I would appreciate Crowley being in my world.” We both let out a laugh that dies down quickly as we soak up the new knowledge we were each given. 

Sam suddenly had that protective big brother look on his face, the one that was normally displayed on Dean's face. It felt weird to go from being the one that cares and makes sure everyone is okay to being looked at like a fragile being that someone else is willing to hold together while you fall apart. I cried the first time Dean looked at me like that, I wanted to be mad and tell him piss off that. I didn’t need a big brother to watch over me. I had gone my whole life without one, but the truth was, I desperately needed a big brother and now I am realizing, I needed two. 

“Don’t tell Dean though, don't need him getting all sappy on me.” We both let out a loud chuckle that rippled off the small bathroom walls. Sam leaned back into his laugh. 

Cold water jolted out of the shower head, spraying me directly in the chest. A gasp escaped me, as it soaked straight through my clothes. Sam’s laugh became nuclear, he seemed unbothered by the water that was slowly making it way to his side of the bath. Too distracted by my current shivering state. I pulled sharply at the edge of his flannel to catch him off guard. He fell forward, giving me just enough room to slip underneath him to the other side of the tub. The laughter stopped abruptly, the cold water knocking the air out of his lungs. It was my turn to let out a loud cackle. 

We were so caught up in the water war that we didn’t notice the lack of yelling followed by the loud sound of the front door slamming. Dean threw open the bathroom door. His mouth formed around words but stopped at the sight of me and Sam laying on the tub floor soaking wet, water still cascading down on top of us. His angry expression vanished.  

“What the hell are you guys doing?” I could tell that it was taking everything in him not to laugh at our position. He was putting on what me and Sam call his dad face, his face set in a stone cold serious expression. It always had a way of making you feel like you’re three years old and you just got caught cutting your siblings hair with the kitchen scissors. His eyes betrayed him though. There was a glimmer of light in them that said he wanted to laugh.  

“We are doing what you told us.” I squeaked, moving into an upright sitting position, smiling sheepishly at Dean. 

“I told you guys to hide in the bathroom, not create a tsunami in the tub.” Sammy let out a bark of a laugh that was silenced by Dean's crossed arms. My lips curled involuntarily inward to stop my own laughter from spilling into the room. 

Sam now stood, making me so tiny on the bathtub floor, alone surrounded by two giants. I stood to suppress that feeling. It didn’t work. I was always a foot or so shorter than the boys even while standing. The water now hit the top of my head, spraying around me. 

“What did you expect Dean? We were in here for thirty minutes while that girl screamed about the ‘night of love making’ you two shared and how you had one with her friend two days later. We got bored.” Sam reached up and moved the shower head so it was now pointed at the very front of the tub. 

“Yeah,” Dean reached around and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry you had to hear that kid.” I gave him a real smile followed by a shrug of my shoulders. I knew Dean was a player, I could have gone without the details, but I am not scarred for life or anything.  

“Hey, what about me? I deserve an apology.” 

“You deserve nothing.” Dean pointed an accusatory finger at Sam. “I told you that was her friend the other night at the bar, ‘No Dean, her friend was shorter with lighter hair’.” He mocked Sam's voice as he turned around in a small circle to face the opposite wall. Sam bumped his shoulder into mine lightly. Looking up I saw a mischievous grin displayed on his face, he was holding the shower head in his hand. He gave a short nod towards Dean, before mouthing a wordless countdown. 

“You no good dirty bastard!” I yelled when he got to one. Dean whirled around fast, confusion riddled his whole body. Sam was quick to lift the shower head up, spraying Dean straight in the face. His face the moment the water hit was priceless, he was truly in disbelief. 

“You two are asking for it.” Dean growled, lunging towards us. 

I quickly tried to jump out of the tub, unfortunately so did Sam. We crashed into each other landing on the tile floor, a heap of legs and elbows. Sam manages to catch my head in his palm before it smacks the ground. The room echoes with laughter, each of us wet, cold, and unbelievably happy. 

“Alright we need dry clothes or we will all catch pneumonia.” Sam says breaking the laughter. 

“Like that would kill a Winchester. Right kid?” Dean splashes water in my direction, I laughed nodding my head. My heart was growing as Sam threw a towel around my shoulders. 

I could stand being Y/N Y/L/N in my world as long as I got to be Y/N Winchester here.