#if you want me to elaborate on any of this i can i’m just throwing my opinions out there

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Whelmed 🩷

Even Jihoon needs to be taken care of sometimes.

Fluff - woozi x gn!reader

Maybe I'm projecting jussssst a lil bit. Anyway, Happy Birth Month, my precious, precious boy!!

AO3 link

Word Count: 2.5k

CW: crying, meltdown, a lil hurt/comfort, jihoon is stressed and needs maximum comfort

₊˚⊹ 🩷🩷🩷꒰.^₃^꒱☆⋆｡

You walk into the Universe Factory and the first thing you see is Jihoon laying face down on the couch. It’s silent in the room, which is incredibly rare, except for the sounds of heavy breathing and sniffles. You walk slowly toward the couch and plop down on the edge of it. Jihoon makes some room for you without lifting his face. Your hand finds his back to start rubbing it comfortingly.

“Want to talk about it?” you ask, your voice softly above a whisper.

“I got really overwhelmed.” Jihoon’s small voice is muffled by the cushions of the seat. He finally turns around to face you, now laying on his back. His nose and eyes are tinged red, and his face is slightly shining from a few tears left there. He’s been done crying for a while. He looks and feels small, however, and moves your hand to pat his tummy, still craving your touch.

“That’s okay. Want to go to my place to get whelmed?” you offer.

Jihoon lets out a laugh, a smile finally appearing on his face. “Is that even a word?”

“I don’t know, but my offer still stands.” You lift an eyebrow to him and return the smile.

He takes a deep breath and exhales an “Okay.” 

You begin to stand up and take a moment to look out of the window. The sun just went down. It’s still early in the night, however, since Jihoon usually ends his work past midnight. Only special circumstances like dinner plans or events get him to call it quits early, and even then, he just ends up back in the studio, producing away. Tonight is an extremely rare circumstance. One in which work stops because it absolutely has to or it will destroy the boy’s mind. It’s only ever happened one other time since you two started dating. You’re ready for it much better this time, knowing all he wants is to be taken care of and to not have to think about anything.

You wait for Jihoon to stand up and follow your lead, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, he puffs out his cheeks and reaches up for you, wanting you to lift him to his feet. He looks insanely adorable, even if there are still the dying embers of a meltdown still glowing on his face. You grab his hands and pull him up to a seated position then finally up to his feet. You are determined to make him feel better tonight, any way you can. 

“Carry me,” he pouts. 

You giggle at the suggestion, knowing exactly how he feels. “I would if I could.” You continue to keep the mood really light and joking as you leave the building and walk to your apartment building. You carry Jihoon’s bag for him, and he pays for some snacks at a convenience store. 

Once you make it into your apartment, you both immediately change into your fluffiest, comfiest clothes. Jihoon sits comfortably on the couch, picking something to watch while you make popcorn and pour your drinks into cute mason jars. You each picked out some candy to share and an ice cream treat to store in the freezer for later, as well. You come to the living room and set down the popcorn bowl and drinks and find Jihoon with his eyebrows furrowed as he scrolls through every streaming platform there is, trying to find something suitable.

“This is impossible,” he huffs.

“What are you looking for?” you plop next to him and throw a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

“I don’t know. Something good.” His response isn’t very elaborate.

“A K-Drama?” you ask.

“No, I want something I don’t have to think too hard about.”

“Then what about a kids’ cartoon? Like Bluey,” you suggest.

“No, no. I’m not in the mood for something for kids.” He sticks out his tongue while he scrolls. His cuteness is going to send you into an overload. Usually, he takes charge of things and lets you be the cute one. When he gets like this, it’s such a special sight for you to take in all the softness he locks away behind his more serious personality.

You are just happy to be next to him, watching him go through each genre until something strikes him. You kind of zone out merrily, until you hear slight groaning next to you. Jihoon’s face is twisted up in frustration. He’s getting overwhelmed again and fusses over the TV remote.

“I can’t choose,” he says, voice choking up a little bit.

You take the initiative to place your hand on his and gently set the remote down on the coffee table. You place your other hand on his cheek and turn him to face you. You smile and kiss his nose while softly assuring, “It’s okay. They give way too many options, right? If you want, I can pick, okay?”

Jihoon’s hand intertwines with yours, grabbing at your fingers and rubbing your palms. He nods and breathes, calming down more and more. You turn your attention to the TV and select a shojo anime you both have seen about a million times and restart it from the first episode. The tension you both were once holding onto in your shoulders finally relaxes as you both sit back and watch the opening credits. 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” you say as you jolt up from your seat and walk toward your bedroom. “Be right back.” 

Jihoon follows you with eyes wide until you disappear into your room. He’s curious why you’ve run off and how long your errand will take. Not long, apparently, as you reappear within a minute holding velvet soft plushies for you both to cuddle. You return to your seat and settle into the back cushion of the couch placing a cat plushie in Jihoon’s arms. You place a bear plushie on the opposite side of you and let Jihoon settle into your outstretched arm, laying his head on your chest. It’s a position you usually take when you watch TV together, and you are glad he finds your chest as comfortable and secure as you find his.

The popcorn disappears about a quarter of the way into the second episode. You didn’t realize how hungry you were. You sit idly watching the cute female protagonist miss all the cues that the people around her are instantly infatuated with her. You try to focus on the cute little plot, but you are interrupted by a small growling sound.

You look at Jihoon then to his stomach then back to his face. His eyes are wide, and his face is red. You laugh quietly, “Ready for candy?”

“Actually, can we make ramen? I’m hungry for more than snacks.” 

“Of course, coming right up!” you say as you get up to move to the kitchen. It’s a little surprising when footsteps follow. “You want to help?” you question your sudden shadow.

Jihoon nods his head silently. For what it’s worth, he does fill a pot with water while you find a few packs of ramen. While the water boils, however, his version of helping beyond that is just to stand behind you with his arms around your waist, laying his head on your back. This kind of white noise is your favorite. Nothing but low TV chatter from the characters in a sweet shojo, the sound of water boiling, and soft breathing. You’re relaxed and hope that Jihoon feels the same way. You want him to decompress and let go of all the stress of the day. You know that eventually, he will have to talk about it to process it though. For now, you stir the pot with long chopsticks making sure the noodles are not too hard and not too soft.

You bring the pot and two pairs of chopsticks to the coffee table, making sure to put it on a heat resistant mat. Jihoon’s arms remain around you as he shuffles along with you every step of the way. With a huff, he finally lets you go as he sits back on the couch, but he does wait for you with open arms.

“Do you want me to feed you, too?” you laugh as you settle in next to him. He’s a little clingy, but it’s rare to see him so dependent on anyone else. In these small moments, you indulge him and genuinely do wish you could do everything for him so that he doesn’t have to think, or overthink, about it.

“No! I can eat by myself,” he responds, flustered. He grabs the chopsticks and takes mouthfuls of ramen. You let him fill up a bit first and swoop in for your share when he’s had his fill. The ramen disappears, and so do all of the treats while the anime plays comfortingly in the background. Jihoon is snuggled up with his head leaning against you, and you notice his eyes drooping heavier and heavier.

Before he completely knocks out, you get his attention, “Hey,” you start softly, “want to start getting ready for bed?”

Jihoon slowly lifts his head and nods while rubbing his eyes. Sometimes he reminds you of a sweet little kitten with the way he pouts with his pink lips. You kiss him before standing up and bringing him to stand with you. He grabs both of the fluffy companions from the couch, then he follows you like a little duck to the bedroom. You both breeze through your nightly routine. Jihoon is in bed with his arms out, again, waiting for you to join him.

“Wait here, I’m going to clean up the living room a little bit,” you say and turn for the door.

He pouts, “But I want you here.”

“I know, and I will be. Just let me take care of the dishes really fast.”

“I’ll help.” He begins to move the blanket covering him, disrupting the position of his new friend, the cat plushie.

“No, stay there. I got it. Just wait a bit, okay?” You smile at him reassuringly. He huffs and finally relents. You take care of the small mess left behind and muse on the way Jihoon has been acting. His clinginess getting the best of him was a sign. He was much more bothered than you originally thought. It is very cute and refreshing to see him get all needy. It reminds you that he needs you just like how you need him. He doesn’t say it all that often, but when you can feel it, feel that he needs you, it just solidifies your feelings for him even more.

But there is still something else. Something he’s not asking for, distracting himself with hugs and kisses so he’ll feel better without confronting what’s really going on. You hope it isn’t something he’s had to endure for a long time. He��s prone to do that, to endure alone and not let anyone help him. He thinks he can handle it himself without bothering anyone. He doesn’t understand that it’s not a bother. You resolve to talk about it with him no matter what. No matter how cute and sweet he’ll act when you get back to him.

With everything cleaned and your mind made up, you enter the bedroom again and are met with those same open arms. You settle into your spot, getting all comfortable. You turn in on Jihoon, and he rotates without hesitation until his back is against your chest. You enjoy the smell of his shampoo and lay a soft kiss to the back of his head. You wrap your arms around him tight and he holds on to them for dear life. It almost makes you feel bad that you have to make him a little uncomfortable, but it will help him sleep at night. You just lay there, breathing in sync, then you take a deep breath which disrupts the rhythm you have going with Jihoon.

“Hey,” you ease into the difficult conversation, “I know today was hard for you. I was just wondering… what happened?”

Jihoon buries his face in his pillow, “I don’t want to think about it.”

“I know, I know.” You stroke his hand, hoping to bring some comfort to his stressed out mind. “Talking about it will help you get through it, though. Can’t avoid it forever. It’ll come back to bite you.” You emphasize your words by pinching his arm in a playful attack. It lightens the mood a little and provokes a giggle to rise out of Jihoon.

“It’s just…” Jihoon begins cautiously, “my job can be stressful. It’s already hard enough to meet everyone else’s standards. When I can’t even meet my own, I feel… useless.”

You rub gentle circles on Jihoon’s arms and hands as he talks. You listen and understand how he’s feeling. He’s always been a type-A perfectionist since you’ve known him. It’s kind of stupid, but sometimes you let yourself think that his talent means that nothing is hard for him; he just does so well all the time and then acts as if it’s not a big deal. Of course, it sometimes is a big deal. He always burns so hot and bright for a long time, but even stars burn out eventually. This is the burnout; an increasingly frustrating time that leads to being so overwhelmed he cries alone in the Universe Factory. It’s a good thing that he’s not alone right now, though.

“You’re not useless; you just need some help. I know you’ll figure it out because you are a musical genius,” you respond. Your breath tickles his ear as you speak.

“You know I hate that word. ‘Genius’. A genius should be able to do it without help.” His voice starts cracking, and your heart breaks a little hearing it.

“No, no. It’s not easy being so smart. You’re the one that has to make the smart decisions. Being stupid is easy because the easy decision is to give up. It’s hard to keep going. Once you figure it out, that is what makes you a genius. I know you are smart enough to keep going and to figure it out. You can start by making the smart decision to reach out for some help on this.” You feel Jihoon relax in your arms, tension melting away from his shoulders. Your words reached him.

“I’ve never thought of it like that.” His voice is even again. You can’t see the look on his face, but you can tell he’s having a revelation. “I think I’m whelmed, now. Thank you,” he says simply. He moves to reveal his face. The tears that were once welling in his heart have disappeared. They don’t get to fall tonight.

“I’m glad,” you tilt his face toward you and capture his lips in a kiss. You settle once again into the spoon, somehow more comfortable than before. Jihoon falls asleep with a blissful slight smile on his face.

[akito-shinonome-daily]

3 and 22

fandom ask game

22.) Give us a headcanon for Akito.

➥ OK, i don’t care that in canon it is his specialty—i refuse to believe that akito can actually beat box. he’s just made it up at some point when somebody asked and word got around to an. why do you think he always dodges when kohane/an asks him too? because after he said he was good at it, he did it in front of toya and even tho toya tried really hard to convince akito it was alright, akito could tell that toya knew it was not good and akito knows he can never do it again. he is hoping that kohane and an will forget.

3.) NoTP?

➥ personally i don’t see toya x either tenma happening romantically (even tho i do like childhood friends to lovers) so i don’t really like seeing that. i don’t consider it taboo, they’re just not ships i’d ever consume content for.

➥ i also don’t really like akito x tsukasa or rui. i do think with the right premise i wouldn’t mind it, but the way they’ve interacted in canon so far doesn’t do it for me. especially since it’s usually written as akito thinking one of them is SUPER HOT and even tho he hates it he still ends up making out with them. maybe it’s just my acespec ass but i just do not see that? like i said, i will read for pretty any ship as long as i feel like there’s a basis for it besides “they’re horny/want to make out.” there’s absolutely nothing wrong with just liking a ship because it’s your two favs or you just find it aesthetically pleasing and you just want them to kiss, that’s just not really how i personally like to approach shipping.

➥ i also don’t love pjsk ships as much if it’s like dating your sibling’s partner/bff? for example, toya x ena. they’re just kinda a weird vibe to me but maybe that’s just because i can’t imagine dating one of my friends’ siblings or one of my brother’s friends. i’m sure it happens irl tho ¯\_(_ _ )_/¯

[indulgentdaydream]

protective!jason hcs or blurb 🥰

Ok so I kinda touched on these in my latest fic but anyways i WILL elaborate bc those were just background

We all know that man is touch starved. We ALL know it.

We also all know he’s hesitant with sharing touch

It’s only once you both have been dating for a bit already, maybe three months in, that he really starts to show his protectiveness through his touch

Or at least when you notice it

He’s always at least holding your hand as you guys walk around Gotham. Depending on exactly whereabouts in Gotham is when he changes whether he’s between you and the road, or you and the alleyways.

You watched him change it up one time halfway through your shared walk, him letting go of your left hand, stepping behind you and around to grab your right instead.

“Oh? So you want me to get hit by a car and die?”

Jason only keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and the ones coming up, “The chance of that is much lower than somebody trying to mug you in this area, love.”

One day you’re both out at the bar together. He’s sitting on a stool behind you as you babble to oke of yours friends.

From over their shoulder, you see a man approaching, but don’t think anything of it.

Suddenly, you see the man stop in his tracks, freezing. You glance over at him. He looks terrified. He glances at you, his original target, then behind you again. He spins on his heel and walks back the way he came.

You look behind you, feeling Jason’s hand still resting on your hip. You almost feel a little scared yourself, seeing that killer glare that Jason’s pointing at the guy’s back.

He switches immediately the second he looks down to you, a soft smile and kind eyes, not a hint of the previous bloodlust a mere second ago. “What?” He asks, like watching his expression change wasn’t the biggest turn on in the world.

You’re sitting in your apartment at your desk typing away on your laptop. You’re trying to file your taxes, and Jason had come over to help you with it (surprisingly he knows how even though he’s still legally dead at this point and hasn’t had to pay any taxes. Ever.)

He had stood and was wondering around your room a bit while he waited for you to fill the next part out. You can hear shuffling, but you’re too focused to tune into it.

“Jay? What does this line mean?”

Jason grunts for a moment and you hear your window slide open.

You turn back around, “Jay?”

“One second.” He shuts your window again. You watch as he fiddles with the lock before easily sliding the window back open. He throws his hands in the air and looks at you. “How long have you lived here?”

You shrug, confused, “You helped me move in.”

Jason waves his hand through the air, “When?”

“Almost a year? Last November.”

Jason fiddles with the window again, slamming it back down, “This lock doesn’t work. You been sleeping in here and anyone could’ve just broken in?”

You shrug again, “I didn’t know it was broken! I don’t really lock my window often.”

Jason looks like he almost broke his neck by how fast his head whipped back to you, “You don’t lock your window????”

He finishes your taxes for you before he leaves, saying he’ll be back. Within the hour he’s knocking on your door again, a duffle bag in hand full of power tools, screws, and different assortments of heavy duty locks. He spends the rest of the night installing them.

A new one on your bedroom window that actually consisted of two different locks. A similar two on your kitchen window. Another three on your bedroom door itself. Then four on your front door.

As he leaned over your kitchen sink, screwing in the lock and blocking your way as you tried to make you both dinner.

“Is this really necessary?”

“I’m not having you practically open to every bad thing the city has to offer, love.”

“Then how are you going to come in through my window now?”

“I’ll learn to knock.”

That’s all I can think of right now okay byeee

[rileyslibrary]

With your hands full, you use your elbow to push the doorknob and nudge the door open with your shoulder. You enter Ghost’s office, shutting the door behind you with your foot.

He stands with his back turned to the door, focused on the map spread across his desk. He looks over his shoulder and narrows his eyes as they fall upon the box in your hands. Although he doesn’t say it, the message is clear—he’s waiting for an explanation. You don’t blame him; anyone in his shoes would do the same.

“I need your help,” you announce.

“Absolutely not,” he replies, returning to the map.

“I’m serious.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, scribbling something on the paper. “Out. Now.”

“Seriously, man?” you protest, stomping your foot once on the floor.

He stops mid-writing, lets the pencil fall, and slowly turns halfway towards you. It must be the casual “man” you threw at him; otherwise, nothing would explain how he looks at you now, with one of his eyebrows so high up that it’s threatening to escape his forehead and shoot out of his balaclava.

“Please,” you whisper. “Just this one time.”

He lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes. “What do you want?” He asks.

“I need to hide this,” you explain and slightly lift the box in your hands.

He throws a brief glance at the box, then back at you. “Elaborate,” he orders. “What is it?”

“Cake,” you reveal.

“Cake,” he repeats and gestures with his hands to speak further.

“For Price,” you explain. “It’s his birthday.”

“I know,” he says, shrugging. “Why hide it?”

“It’s a surprise,” you reply. “He doesn’t know.”

He clicks his tongue and turns his attention back to the map. “I think the captain is well aware that today is his birthday,” he murmurs.

“Will you please stop with the jokes?” you plead, throwing a quick glance at the door. “He saw me carrying it, and I think he’s suspicious.”

“Nonsense!” he chuckles while continuing to write on the map. “There is nothing suspicious about someone wandering around a military base holding a....” He turns back and looks at your hands. “Pink and white striped box with gold lettering embossed at the top; what the hell.”

“What can I say?” you snap. “Lulette’s patisserie ran out of camo boxes.”

He huffs and redirects his attention to the map, sketching out little arrows and making notations. He gets on your nerves like that, yet he never fails to lend you a hand when needed. You just need to be more pragmatic. Convince him.

“Please,” you beg. “This is the safest place to hide it; nobody dares to come here without permission.”

He tosses the pencil again on the map, this time more forcefully, and swivels his entire body towards you, crossing his arms and leaning on the desk.

“Yet here you are, in my office, permission or not,” he barks and points toward the door. “Out, now.”

“It’s an emerg-”

“I won’t repeat it.”

“But-”

There’s a knock on the door. You both turn towards the sound.

“Who’s that?” Ghost asks.

“Price,” the voice responds from behind the door.

You turn your head towards Ghost, and he meets your gaze. The once scornful expression he had is now replaced with urgency.

He quickly looks around and motions for you to get under the desk; it has a modesty panel that graces the floor, making it a good enough place to conceal yourself and the box. You run toward your hiding spot and crawl under it while mouthing an “I told you so” to him. He brings his index finger to his mouth while pushing your head further into the opening. You bring your knees to your chest and balance the box there. Ghost quickly sits on top of the desk and picks up the phone.

“Come in.” He shouts.

The door swings open, and Ghost theatrically shuts the phone. He apologises to Price for the delay, explaining that he “was on the phone with one of the Sergeants discussing the upcoming mission.” You hear Price approaching, and Ghost dives right into the mission details without letting him get any closer.

After the lieutenant finishes his briefing, there’s something about the operation being on a tight timeline, how the captain needs everyone to be on point and Ghost assuring him how prepared the team is. They then delve into specifics and strategies, and you hear the map rustling, tapping fingers on the wooden surface above you, scribbling with the pencils and some subtle shifts in posture here and there.

Suddenly, Price’s voice changes direction, and you hear him walking around the desk. Ghost walks towards your hiding place and pushes his office chair closer, squeezing you further towards the modesty panel. You look up and listen to papers being lifted up. You hold your breath, and your heart pulses in your ears.

“Are these the documents for the mission?” Price asks.

“Yes, sir.” Ghost replies.

“Good.” The captain exclaims. “Let’s meet with the team and finalise the plans in the briefing room in an hour.”

“Understood,” Ghost says, and you hear Price distancing himself from your hiding spot, leaving the room.

Ghost waits a few moments, ensuring the door is closed, and Price is far away, before knocking on the desk twice, signalling that it is safe for you to emerge from under the desk. You put the box on the desk and slowly crawl out.

“I told you it was an emergency,” you repeat. “You didn’t listen.”

He doesn’t respond but grabs the box and walks towards the bookshelf.

“What cake is it?” He asks as he squats in front of a cabinet and places the box there.

“It’s a fruit tart.”

“Christ’s sake,” he grunts as he shuts the cabinet. “Who in their right mind picks a bloody fruit tart for a birthday cake.”

“Captain likes fruit tarts.” You remind him.

He stands up and walks behind his desk. “Be back in half an hour,” he states, looking at his watch. “We’ll do it after the briefing, where everyone will be present.”

“Yes, sir.” You nod and walk towards the door.

“And no poppers, no sparklers, no party horns.” He clarifies.

“What about party hats?” You ask.

“Party hats are fine.” He murmurs. “They don’t make any noise.”

“Should I save one for you, sir?”

He slowly shoots you the same look he did when you stepped into his office. “I don’t know.” He murmurs as he tilts his head. “Should you?”

“I guess not.” You whisper and clasp your hands.

“You guess right.” He whispers back. “Now, and for the final time, go.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Dummfucks of the Grid

word count: 760

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After a disappointing P6 finish at the São Paulo Grand Prix, Lando Norris finds comfort in his girlfriend Y/n's fierce support as she playfully criticizes the other drivers and team principals

______________________________________________________________

As the door to Lando’s driver’s room closed, the noise of the paddock celebrations faded into the background. Lando sat on the couch, his head in his hands, feeling the weight of finishing P6 after a race that had promised so much more. The disappointment was palpable, especially with Max winning again.

Y/n moved swiftly to sit beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Hey, Lando, P6 isn’t the end of the world. You gave it your all out there.”

He sighed, his frustration evident. “Yeah, but I wanted to do better. With Max winning again, it feels like I keep falling short.”

“Falling short?” she echoed, shaking her head. “You didn’t just fall short; you navigated a field of absolute clowns out there! Let’s talk about it. You know I’m here for you.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Care to elaborate?”

“Okay, first off, Max. He drives like he’s playing Mario Kart and thinks he can just take everyone out with a blue shell! I mean, does he not understand that sharing the track is part of the job? It’s like he thinks he’s invincible! It’s ridiculous!”

He chuckled, a small smile breaking through. “That’s a good way to put it.”

“And then there’s George Russell, who finished P4 today. Honestly, he acts like he’s the golden child of the grid. ‘Look at me, I’m so talented, watch me throw my weight around!’ It’s like he forgets he has to race, not just pose for the cameras. Every time he gets near you, it’s like he’s trying to play bumper cars!”

“True,” Lando said, laughing harder now. “I can feel the ego swelling every time I see him.”

“And don’t even get me started on Leclerc! He’s out there racing like he’s auditioning for the role of ‘Most Likely to Crash Into a Wall.’ It’s like he has a special talent for making the race more dramatic than it needs to be. How does he always manage to be on the brink of disaster and still finish? Is it a gift or a curse?”

Lando nodded, now thoroughly entertained. “He does have that knack for drama, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely! And then we have Carlos Sainz. I mean, bless him, but he’s trying so hard to keep up with Leclerc that it’s like watching a puppy chase its tail. Poor guy looks so lost sometimes, you just want to give him a treat and a pat on the head! But he gets a pass because he’s your friend.”

“Right? Carlos is actually a good guy,” Lando said, shaking his head, amused.

“And then there’s the team principals!” Y/n continued, her passion bubbling over. “Christian Horner thinks he runs a royal court every time Max crosses the finish line. ‘Look at my king!’ as if it’s not a team effort. And Toto—he’s not innocent either. He struts around like he’s the head of a fashion show! Honestly, if I had a dime for every time I’ve seen him making dramatic hand gestures in the pits, I could fund a whole new racing team!”

“Okay, that one’s a good point!” Lando laughed, feeling the tension ease with every word.

“Seriously, I would fight every one of them for you if it came down to it. Size doesn’t matter when you’re this passionate!” she declared boldly. “I’d take on Max, George, and anyone else who thinks they can just push you around out there!”

“Y/n, you do realize you’re only 5’6, right?” Lando replied, grinning. “How are you going to take on all of them?”

“I may be small, but I’ve got a big heart and a bigger mouth!” she shot back, her eyes sparkling with defiance. “Just imagine me storming the paddock like, ‘Back off, or I’ll unleash my fury on you!’”

“Please don’t start any fights in the paddock,” he said, his tone light but earnest. “I love your spirit, but I’d rather not deal with the fallout. I need you here, not banned.”

“Why not? It would be entertaining!” she countered, smirking. “I’d tell them all off! ‘Listen up, dummfucks of the grid, stop getting in my boyfriend’s way!’”

Lando laughed, the sound genuine now. “You really are something else. Knowing you’ve got my back means everything.”

“Absolutely! If they try to block you from winning, I won’t hesitate to step in,” she said, snuggling closer.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything too crazy,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face. “I love your fierceness and protective side, but let’s keep you in the paddock, okay?”

[wonderjanga]

Barely Human Cap

Imagine Cap as more dollish than human. Even though he’s supposed to be extremely durable/bulletproof, I think he could take major injuries and brush them off. Like at most, it’ll slow him down a bit, but he’ll just go back to fighting. And the reason for think would be that he can’t feel pain. Hence, the whole doll thing. Like, I can imagine the JL is fighting this super strong and powerful monster or villain that’s even giving the powerhouses of the league trouble. They then have to witness Marvel get hit really hard and go flying. Let’s say Flash runs over to see if he’s alright and sees that Marvel’s entire lower jaw is just gone. One of his eyes is also popped out of the socket and he’s kinda just laying there so Flash, rightfully so, thinks he’s dead. That is until Billy moves and tries to pop his eye back into its socket. He succeeds but not to the horror of Flash. He then casually gets up, even brushes off his cape, and starts to look for his jaw. He then finds it and throws it into a pocket dimension all while Barry watches. Then, when the speedster finally snaps out of his daze he immediately rushes over to Marvel and starts bombarding him with questions as if the champion could answer. Thankfully for Billy, an explosion in the distance helps them remember there’s still a super difficult fight going on so he flies off back to the fight. He horrified the other members of the league during this too.

I also feel like there would be other things. (which might or might not actually be canon) Like, I don’t think Marvel has reproductive organs. And I think Billy would say something like this if the situation ever came down to it:

Superman: “Your tiger isn’t neutered?”

Marvel: “No? Why would he be? Also, he’s not my tiger. He’s just a tiger. That happens to be one of my bestest friends.”

Superman: *doesn’t really know what to say to the last three sentences.* “Right… Well, what if he, y’knows another tiger?”

Marvel: “Then he y’knows her. Trust me when I say getting neutered sucks. I know from personal experience.” (He doesn’t, he just knows his Captain Marvel form doesn’t have anything in the lower regions.)

Green Lantern: “You know from personal experience…?” *He looks horrified.*

Marvel: “Yeah, I do.” (Again, he doesn’t) “One day, the wizard called me in and was like, ‘Marvel, come here.’ So I did. Then, he waved his hand, and everything down under was just gone. That was like ten thousand years ago, but it’s still fresh in my mind.” (He made that up as he went)

Flash: “You… You poor soul.” *Pats Cap’s shoulder.*

I also wouldn’t be surprised if Marvel doesn’t have organs in the first place. Like I can see Clark getting constantly jumpscared by Marvel because the man doesn’t need to breathe, no lungs, he doesn’t have a heartbeat, no heart, and Clark can’t even hear muscles straining as he moves so that suggests he doesn’t have muscles too.

I can also see Billy using this to blatantly lie to press whenever they ask about his dating life (he’s like twelve, he doesn’t have nor want one.) or literally anything else:

Reporter: “Captain!” *Runs over to Billy, camera crew following behind her.*

Marvel: *Stops* “Yes?” *Looks between reporter and camera.*

Reporter: “Could we interview you for a few moments?”

Marvel: “Oh uh- Sure!” *Gives a thumbs up*

Reporter: *Gives cue to camera guy to start rolling* “Alright, so are there any lucky ladies in your life?”

Marvel: “Hm?” *Makes the most confused face and looks around to the aftermath of a battle between Black Adam and him. That was what he expected her to ask about.* “I didn’t catch that.”

Reporter: “Are there any lucky ladies in your life? You’re quite a handsome man, Captain. I’m sure you’ve had your share of women.”

Marvel: *Stares at the reporter for a few seconds with that blank, computing expression.* “Uh… no?” Think, Billy! Think! What can you say to end this fast? “I can’t feel romantic feelings for anyone.”

Reporter: “Can you elaborate?” *Holds mic up to his face.*

Marvel: *thinking of how he can make this make sense* “Well, you see I… don’t have a brain! So I’m not really able to feel things like that.”

Reporter: “ -Oh. Uhm.” *Shocked and looking to the camera man before looking back at Marvel.* “Well—”

Marvel: *Cuts her off* “Okay, bye!” *Flies off fast.*

[jenanigans1207]

“I don’t regret it, Dean.” Cas says quietly. “Telling you I love you was the best moment of my life.”

“Yeah? Well, it was the worst of mine!” Dean yells, throwing his arms out to the side. There’s a moment of stricken silence where Cas’s face falls and Dean realizes how his words came across. He rushes to elaborate. “Do you know how many years I wondered if angels could feel love? Romantic love? Do you know how long I hoped that they could— that you, specifically, could? And more than that, that you would feel it towards me? I wondered all the goddamn time, Cas. And then you— you finally—“ Dean swallows past a lump in his throat, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You finally tell me not only that you can love, but you love me. Me. And in one second, ten years of my wildest dreams came true and then were ripped away.”

Dean looks down at his feet. Clenches his jaw against the feelings threatening to choke him. He tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose but it doesn’t help him feel any better.

“Dean—“

“I didn’t think I was ever gonna see you again.” Dean confesses to his boots. “I thought I’d have to live the rest of my miserable life knowing I could’ve had you and kicking myself for being such a dumb piece of shit.” He swallows again and looks up. “I thought you were going to spend eternity not knowing that I love you, too.”

“I didn’t mean— Dean, I didn’t—“ Cas shakes his head as words fail him.

“So yeah,” Dean shrugs a little helplessly, his voice still tight with emotion. “It was the worst moment of my life. Except for every moment that came after— because every single moment from your death until you came back was the worst moment of my life. Every moment without you is. And you coming back could’ve been the best moment of my life if you hadn’t been such an ass about everything.”

There was a time, once, in the distant past where Cas’s face never betrayed any emotion. Dean could’ve scrutinized every single molecule of his expression and he wouldn’t have been able to read a goddamn thing from it. That hasn’t been the case for a long time— Cas took to emotions and humanity better than Dean did, and it was the only thing Dean had ever known.

Now, Dean can read a multitude of emotions in Cas’s expression: disbelief in the slight part of his lips, hope in the blue of his eyes, shock in the rise of his eyebrows. He can practically read every thought going through Cas’s mind as he tries to process what’s happened.

And then, there it is: acceptance in the way the corner of Cas’s mouth ticks up.

“I had no idea.” Cas answers after a moment.

“‘Course you didn’t.” Dean replies, his own mouth mirroring the small smile. “You fucked off before I got a chance to say it back.”

“I just assumed—“

“You know what they say about assuming, Cas.”

“No, I don’t.” Cas is full on smiling now, warm and full of the love Dean had only ever seen hidden in shadows of his expressions. Now it’s practically splitting his face open, spilling out of Cas like he’s finally filled up with so much of it that it’s simply impossible to keep it all in. “And frankly, I don���t care. I only care about what you have to say.”

Dean huffs out a fond laugh as he shakes his head. “Finally gonna let me do the talking, huh?”

“I’m in the mood to do some listening,” Cas’s grin is dazzling and a little cheeky, Dean wants to memorize it immediately.

He takes a step closer to Cas. And then another. Cas simply watches him approach, making no attempt to back away. His personal space is inviting and Dean enjoys stepping directly into it with no hesitation.

“Well, I might be in the mood for something other than talking.” Dean whispers, less than a foot from Cas now.

“Oh?” Cas prompts, his hand reaching across the minuscule place between them to settle on Dean’s hip.

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs, leaning in. “But just to make sure you get it through your stubborn head: I love you, Cas. And I’ll fucking kill you if you ever do something like that again.”

Dean kisses him before Cas has a chance to reply.

[honeysbeebears]

Sleepover Schemes // BKG

Bakugo Katsuki X Reader

In Japan, saying ‘the moon is beautiful’ is a common way to confess one’s feelings of love

Word count: a lot

Warnings: none other than I did not spell check this lol & bakugo might be a little ooc sorry

“Arent sleepovers against the rules?” You look up curiously at the girls surrounding your desk. Right now the class was on a quick break before heading over to the training session. Mina frantically began shushing you “yes! so don’t go saying it out loud like that girl!” You giggle softly “oops”

Uraraka speaks up “it’ll be fun though, we’ll have snacks, face masks, the works!” You nod, looking up at Momo “you mind if i bring makeup? I think a little makeover sesh would be fun too” Momo beams “of course! that sounds lovely” smiling back at her, you give everyone a thumbs up “im in!” the girls exclaim happy cheers before hushing up again once they realized they made a bit of a scene before going back to giggling quietly amongst themselves

In the distance, kirishima is looking over at the group in wonder “hm, wonder what’s got them all worked up” Kaminari, who is standing right next to him shrugs “eh you know them” Bakugo rolls his eyes, not paying any mind to either group before Sero speaks up

“I heard (L/N) say the word ‘sleepover’ though” with that, bakugo is glancing behind him to look at the three boys. They’re obviously up to no good

Kaminari rubs his hands together as if he’s a villain coming up with some elaborate scheme, which is exactly what he was doing “A sleepover huh?” Kirishima and Sero look at him quizzically “dude don’t tell me you-“ Kaminari quickly cuts him off “want to go spy on them?! You betcha!” He gives the boys a thumbs up, kirishima is looking a bit nervous “I dunno man, isn’t that like an invasion of privacy?” Sero nods in agreement, the yellow headed boy smirks once more at his two friends “you know what girls talk about at sleepovers….?” He says, the scheming tone in his voice evident. Bakugo is listening, not like he has a choice while he waits

“Crushes” with that, the look on Sero and Kirishima’s faces change into that of determination, Kaminari knows he’s got them convinced now. Bakugo once again sighs and rolls his eyes

“Don’t you guys want to know who a babe like (L/N) has the hots for?” He throws his arms around the two, looking at the both of them with conniving eyes. At the mention of your name, bakugo freezes as well, making an unwanted grunt that catches the attention of the three boys standing behind him

“Oh looks like Bakubro is interested as well, it’s because i mentioned (F/N) isn’t it?” He teases, Bakugo whips around in his chair “Shut the hell up dunce face” he shouts, his usual angry tone just slightly angrier at the allegation before turning back around, huffing and crossing his arms “Will you be joining us then? Cmon I know even someone like you can’t help but be curious” Before Bakugo can go off again, he looks over at your smiling face, and then imagines the three, in his words, idiots, messing with you and he sinks lower into his chair

“… Fine”

Kirishima looks down at him in shock “no way dude i totally was not expecting that” Bakugo scoffs, slightly embarrassed “I’m only going so you three ass munchers don’t do anything stupid” Kaminari covers his mouth to stifle a giggle “oh dude you’re so down bad you don’t even know it”

“I’ll blast you all the way to hell!”

The girls watch as Kaminari is running around the room, Bakugo chasing after him. Kaminari using the desks as a divider while kirishima and sero are laughing intensely at the scene

“What’s up with those guys?” Jiro questions, eyebrow raised, you shrug “you can never tell with them anymore” you and the other girls watch, entertained while Uraraka and Mina are cheering Kaminari on as he ‘breaks Bakugo’s ankles’ you giggle and join in

“Go get him Kacchan!” Bakugo looks over at you, angrily shouting back “shut your mouth before i blast your dumb ass all the way to hell!”

—

“Oh cmon (F/N) there’s gotta be someone you’re eyeballing i mean look at you” you quirk an eyebrow towards Mina, who’s been bugging you about this ever since you entered Momo’s room “and what’s that supposed to mean?” Mina starts wildly waving her hands around “i mean you’re like smoking hot girl! I didn’t mean it in a bad way” the other girls sitting around you agree in their own ways

You sigh a little, although you weren’t expecting that particular reason “even if i did like anyone I don’t really think it’d be reciprocated, im kind of a klutz” immediately your friends spring into action, showering you with compliments so much that you start to blush. You cover your face in embarrassment at the affection

“Why would you ever even think that? There’s so many dudes pining over you as we speak” Hagakure points out, she’s currently fixing her face mask that Momo had passed out to everyone

You playfully roll your eyes “oh yeah like who?” Thinking you were able to stump them there.

Jiro, who is sitting next to you, side eyes you, not really sure if you were being serious “dude” you whip your head to look at her in a surprised confusion, before you look at the rest of your friends who appear to share the same sentiment, you look at tsuyu, she’s honest right?

“I can name atleast 5 boys right now” the green haired girl points out. You’re simply flabbergasted “What? Who then” you cross your arms. One by one your friends speak in turn

“That boy from the sports festival, Shinso, seems to be quite interested in you after you almost won” Momo starts

“And that boy from 1B, Kaibara, ever since you helped him out at the sports festival he’s been lingering around to get your attention” Tsuyu adds

“Don’t even get me started on Amajiki-senpai, he literally said you reminded him of the sun and admitted you were one of the only people he felt comfortable around, he blushes so much around you im surprised the constant blood rushes haven’t been getting to him ” Jiro says

Your eyes are darting inbetween all of your beloved friends as they quite seriously list off a surprising amount of people, since when were they so observant? You shove your face back into your hands “ok I get it guys..” embarrassed is an understatement

“Oh! And bakugo too!” Uraraka happily points out, as if this was common knowledge, but for you this was the final nail in the coffin before you begin to practically steam out of how flustered you became “I highly doubt that” you managed to squeak out

You thought you were hearing things but you heard a soft thud somewhere in the room, you chose to ignore it

Momo gently strokes your hair, although she still found the predicament quite amusing

Mina finds this exciting, she begins to ponder and think about all of the interactions you’ve had with Bakugo since the beginning of the year

“Oh my god do you guys remember when…”

—

Evidence #1

Something was smelling quite good in the common area, and as everyone began filing down to prepare for the weekend morning they were met with quite the sight

You were baking cinnamon rolls for everyone, as a part of your weekly ritual of baking or cooking for the class. Bakugo happened to have woken up early, came down and found himself chatting to you as if it was a normal thing for him to do

There you were, happily conversing with Bakugo as you were mixing what appeared to be frosting in a bowl. He wasn’t adorned with any sort of scowl, his eyebrows weren’t furrowed and he was silently watching you while listening to whatever story you were telling him, if they didn’t know any better they would’ve thought it was admiration. Of course, upon seeing the two, the usual suspects surrounded them completely disregarding what they stumbled upon, and bakugo was quick to throw angry insults at them

Mina noted the soft expression on his face before the boys had shown up

—

Evidence #2

“Uhm (F/N), do you and Bakugo normally walk to class together?” Upon entering the classroom and walking to your desk, your friends were gathered into their usual group right next to it, you shrug before answering “yeah, for some reason I’ve been managing to catch him just before we enter the building, weird coincidence but i don’t mind it’s pretty nice company, plus when we were kids we’d walk to school together sometimes” your friends deadpan at the last bit ‘bakugo… nice company?’

They all look over to see bakugo arguing with the other guys about some mundane topic, of course he was the most aggressive, yelling and making the usual scene, they simply looked at his comically scowling face before simultaneously thinking ‘not a chance’

Jiro makes a mental note that when she walked into the building, she saw Kirishima run into Bakugo who was standing at the entrance, asking to walk to class together before Bakugo shuts Kirishima down, saying something akin to “Hell no I’m busy!” Kirishima gives him a puzzled look before seeing Kaminari and telling Bakugo he’d see him later

Could it be..?

—

Evidence #3

“I won’t repeat myself asshat, let go of her now” Everyone in the class froze, staying silent, usually he’d be screaming this sort of demand. he was seriously pissed off beyond belief. His eyes pierced into the boy who had his wrapped his arm around your shoulders, Shindo. You awkwardly smile “Bakugo im sure he doesn’t mean any harm-“ before you can finish your sentence you feel something tug on your wrist, ripping you from the black haired boys grasp. You blink in shock, looking up you see Bakugo’s fiery eyes that speak a thousand words, but he only speaks two. “Get lost” his voice absolutely dripping in venom as he slightly tightened his grip he’d laid on your shoulder

Shindo stares back, his eyes narrowing before he throws on a smile “My bad, bro, hey listen im sorry, let’s do our best out there o-“ he holds his hand out to Bakugo to shake, before Bakugo swaps his hand away, turning the both of you around “your words don’t match that expression on your face, i said get lost”

Everyone slowly began to speak amongst themselves again, Bakugo wordlessly handing you over to Kirishima and Mina before spinning around to wander off somewhere else. You simply watch him go, he really was pissed off, mumbling some obscenities. You almost missed the gentle yet tight squeeze he gave your shoulder when he let go.

—

Final Evidence

“Midoriya, you’ve known those two for awhile right?” Mina asks, everyone is currently training, but a small group is sitting by taking a break. Midoriya looks up after taking a drink of water, his eyes land on the two

“I can’t breathe…” you exhale your words, Kirishima is rubbing your back comfortingly as the training gets to you, Bakugo rolls his eyes “you damn lazy shithead you’re never gonna beat me with that lazy ass attitude of yours” You look up at him and glare before smirking, dramatically falling back on kirishima’s chest with your hand on your forehead “I can’t breathe… there’s no room in Kacchan’s EGO, can we go now?!” and just like that, Bakugo is on your ass as you zoom away with your quirk, screaming about how he’s gonna murder you

Midoriya smiles “yep, honestly i cant really imagine what it’d be like without her, she’s been like a middle ground between the two of us ever since junior high, a voice of reason” he has a gentle smile on his face before it drops in an instant and he cringes remembering that time, a chill going up his spine “honestly I don’t think I would’ve survived junior high without her…” before Mina can question that bit he starts to ramble

“Me and (F/N) are best friends, but her and bakugo have this special connection. She’s able to read him like a book, understand him to a level I just can’t. It’s truly fascinating” he looks at Bakugo’s smiling face as he dangles you upside down off a rock formation, of course it’s mostly his usual angry grin but somewhere under there is a genuine smile as you laugh while telling him to put you down

“I’m sure he feels the same way I do, he just has a funny way of showing it”

Mina makes a mental note of this

—

You’re now laid flat on Momo’s bed, each bit of ‘evidence’ making you blush harder and harder, and they just keep going

“And when we were picking vocals for the festival, he refused to be drums unless you sang also, ribbit”

You shoot up, steaming “okayyy guys please stop” Momo looks at you with a pitiful expression “yeah I think she gets the point girls”

Mina still needs to know though

“Okay fine but can you atleast tell us, if you had to pick, who would you date?!” Shes gripping a pillow to her chest in anticipation. You think to yourself once you regain your composure, deep in thought for a moment before taking a deep breath in.

“Shut up” Kirishima whispers, nudging Kaminari as he can tell the boy is absolutely struggling to keep in his laughter, who can blame him though when Bakugo Katsuki himself is blushing from ear to ear from all the information he’s just learned

Boys like you? That many? And how could they know he liked you? He didn’t even know that. There is absolutely no chance in hell he’d ever consider thinking of you that way the thought of it is absurd

Atleast that’s what he told himself

He was about to tell the both of them to shut up before the sound of your timid voice brings him back to reality

“If.. if I had to… I guess it would be..” everyone, including the invading boys, are sweating in anticipation, Bakugo’s palms are slightly damper than usual

“Bakugo..” you finally muster out, barely audible, the girls cheer and clap at your admittance and the boys look at Bakugo’s absolutely shocked expression, they don’t tease though, not right now in such a compromising place

“But it would never happen” for some reason this statement makes him upset, what’s that supposed to mean?

“We both have the ultimate goal of becoming heroes, and we both can’t afford to become distracted with romance, plus I really don’t think he’d ever see me that way, he sees me as an annoying little kid who’s been sticking around since diapers” you laugh, albeit pitifully, at the end of your sentence, the girls don’t know what to say or how to comfort you, they know you know him better than anyone, so if you say it then it’s probably true

Probably

Mina gives her a big hug “aw im sorry for making you sad” you give her a gentle squeeze back “im not upset, don’t worry about it” she holds your shoulders and smiles before deciding on what you all were gonna do next

“How about we sneak over to 7 eleven, I bet we’re dying for some snacks right now” Uraraka shoots up “yes please!”

And just like that the energy in the room is back to its happy self, you giggling and nodding in agreement

As the group of you all put on your shoes, you ask Momo if you can borrow a hoodie from her closet

The closet, uh oh

The boys are frantically looking at each other, whispering ‘what do we do?!’ over and over, absolutely panicking

Internally, Bakugo is freaking out the most. What would he even do if you find out he heard everything you said? Would things be the same? Not that he cares.

They watch you come over to the closet, bracing, preparing for the worst as you begin to open the door

You softly swing the closet door open, and immediately the sight leaves you frozen in place

In front of you, on the floor of the closet are the boys, and Bakugo, and he’s looking at you with this angrily embarrassed look on his face, cheeks flushed. You blink and feel your cheeks heat up, spinning your head around as Momo asks what’s taking you so long, you look back at the boys, pleading with you with their eyes. You glare at the group of them before shutting the door in their face , telling momo you changed your mind on the hoodie

Relief was an understatement as the door to the dorm shuts and locks, the boys all loosen up as they give out a sigh, sinking to the wall and floor

“I thought we were goners for sure there!” Sero says, still terrified “luckily (F/N) is so cool, if it were anyone else we’d be dead for sure” Kirishima adds

Bakugo feels his phone buzz, he pulls it out to see a message and he freezes

(F/N): you guys better be out of there by the time we come back, I mean it.

He opens the closet door, and gets up “let’s get the fuck out of here, im never doing that shit again you fuckers” this time the boys don’t argue, and they all scurry out of the room, Bakugo says nothing as they go back to their respective rooms, and the boys decide not to push their luck tonight

By the time you return, snacks in hand, you look to the closet before walking over to open it again. ‘Empty. Good’ you thought. Atleast they listened to you, you were ready to rip them a new one if they decided to stick around after you gave them a saving grace

Momo asks what you’re doing, you say you’re admiring her clothes before asking what movie they picked to watch

—

After that, neither you nor bakugo had spoken a word to each other. For over a week the atmosphere in the classroom is thick with tension, Midoriya is the first to point it out to you while you’re hanging out in his dorm

“Uh.. (F/N)?” He looks up from the controller in his hand, the ‘victory player 1’ text on the screen on the TV blinking at him

You come down from your winning grin “yes Izuku?” He fiddles with the buttons before finally asking

“What’s up with you and Kacchan?” You are speechless, he noticed? Of course he noticed he’s Izuku.

You sigh, sinking into his bed, back against the wall it’s connected to “no point in lying to you huh?” Izuku gives a light laugh “after all this time, no” he looks at you expectantly

Putting down the controller you turn your head to look at him

“I think.. im in love with kacchan” hearing you admit it out loud after all this time was surreal, you thought it was something you’d take to the grave.

Izuku is shocked, of course, he never imagined his two childhood friends would catch feelings towards each other. He’s also used to you being the one giving him comfort or reassurance. He’s not very experienced in the romance department as is, so he’s not sure what to say to you about that. But he does know you like the back of his hand. You give him the same reason you give the girls as to why you’re never gonna tell him. You also tell him he heard everything.

“Wow that must’ve been super embarrassing..” he says, you face palm “I know! I can’t bring myself to look at him, and honestly the fact that he won’t look at me says something too..” you say, dejectedly. Izuku puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle smile “listen, im not the best with romance n all, but from what I know about the two of you, I think it’s best to just talk it out. You two don’t have to date, but maybe it’ll do the both of you good to get some sort of closure..” the look on your face is hard to read, he guesses you’re taking all of this in “id really hate to see you two drift apart over something like this, after everything we’ve all been through together.. plus I think you’d be surprised over what he has to say”

For some reason, you start to tear up, his words really got to you.

You missed bakugo, and you really didn’t want to lose him

“Is it really worth a try?” You mutter, looking down at your hands, Izuku puts his own hand on top of yours, making you look up back at him “it’s better to try than to not try at all”

—

Back in your dorm, you stare at your phone as if it’ll start moving on its own

You angrily sigh, snatching it up before finally writing the text you’ve been thinking about sending

(F/N): Hi

Bakugo: what do you want?

Ouch, for some reason that hurts a little after not talking in so long. You know not to take it too seriously though, you’re just glad he replied so fast

Bakugo is also mentally smacking himself for saying something like that right off the bat

(F/N): I was just wondering…

(F/N): Can we talk?

The boy stares at the message, of course he does, the awkward silence that’s been going on between the two of you has been miserable even if he didn’t want to admit it. He scoffs, finally deciding to reply after a few minutes

Bakugo: Ok

(F/N): okay! you want me to go to yours?

Bakugo: That’s fine

Bakugo: Actually, meet me on the roof in 10

Bakugo throws his phone down. He shoves his face into his pillow, screaming

He had no idea what to expect

Heading up to the rooftop, he’s surprised to find you there waiting for him first. He stands there for a moment, watching your hair flow in the gentle night breeze. You’re holding your knees up to your chest, shivering. You were cold

He scoffs, shrugging off his zip up hoodie

You’re shocked when a soft, warm fabric drapes your shoulders. Looking up, Bakugo is looking away from you “dumbass, you didn’t bring a sweater? if it weren’t for me you’d freeze to death” you giggle, exceedingly happy to finally hear him speak to you again

“Hello to you too” he ignores your greeting, taking a seat next to you to enjoy the view as well

“What’s wrong with you?” He speaks up after an uncomfortable few minutes of silence, you sit up straight “Me?! What’s wrong with you?!” Bakugo’s eyebrows furrowed and he shouts back “there’s nothing wrong with me idiot!” He turns to glare at you but he’s surprised when his eyes are met with your smiling face. He looks away “the hell you smiling for weirdo?” You notice the pink tint on the tip of his ears

“I guess.. I just missed you” now it’s his turn to sit up straight, he feels chills run up his body but he equates it to the coldness of the night

He says nothing at first, before looking back at you. You’re now looking up at the sky, a content look on your face. Your eyes are sparkling, and your skin is glowing. He shakes his head, not wanting to think of anything like that before you break the silence again

“the moon sure is beautiful, hm?”

Damnit. Once again, bakugo is speechless. Did you really say that?

He’s brought back to a moment in grade school

~~~

“I’m gonna confess to the person I love just like that!” You point at the movie the two of you decided to watch, bakugo looks at you in disgust “ew I did not need to know that you freak” you pout “come on wouldn’t it be so sweet?!” He shoves your face away from his as you swoon “whatever just get off me” you pout once again

~~~

He’s brought back to reality by the way you turn to look at him once more. This look in your eyes makes him feel uneasy, unfamiliar, but he can’t look away.

“yeah.. I guess”

Your eyes sparkle, you look back up up to the sky before mustering up the courage

You grab his hand that’s next to yours

He doesn’t do anything, he stays there, still as a rock before you speak up again

“I know you heard what me and the girls said that night” he meets your gaze, and you’re giving him a serious look that almost freaks him out but he lets you continue

“I didn’t want that to change our friendship, but I guess I was too scared that you’d hate me-“

“In what world would I hate you?”

His voice is so soft it makes your heart beat skip, and now it’s your turn to be freaked out about the serious look in his eyes

“Well I- uh. You see-!” You slap yourself, bakugo is taken aback and is about to question you until you finally say what you’ve been wanting to say for years

“Bakugo Katsuki, Im in love with you!”

There it is. That determined look in your eyes that the boy has never gotten sick of, your breathing is heavy and you’re avoiding eye contact at all costs, but you did it. You fucking said it

“I realized it after we stopped talking, I mean how stupid and cliche is that huh? You never know what you have until it’s gone? God what’s wrong with me, I just needed to tell you because it’s better to try you know?! I don’t wanna fuck up what we have, I mean shit it’s been so long you know. God I ruin everything I’m sorry forget I-“

“Stop talking, you sound like that stupid Deku, god you need to stop hanging around him so much”

You freeze up. You peek a glance to bakugo, he’s kept the same serious look on his face

“You didn’t even give me a chance to reply, dumbass”

His grip on your hand tightens, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. You stop breathing

“I don’t know shit about.. love.. or whatever, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, I can’t place it but the way you.. god, ugh..” he grits his teeth, his cheeks tainted pink, eyebrows furrowed and clearly angry but embarrassed

“God damn it (F/N) you drive me fucking crazy! It feels fucking stupid to just call it some dumb shit like love, it’s like you’re messing with my head all the time, I don’t fucking understand these.. these.. shit! you-” he meets your gaze, and his own softens

“I just can’t.. lose you, yknow?”

So he feels the same way you do, then. you lean your head on his shoulder, and he doesn’t back away

“You’d never lose me, Katsuki” the use of his first name makes his stomach flip. He wants to stay like this

He wants more moments like this

“We.. we don’t have to rush things, and I won’t force you to share your feelings with me, I think that’s something you should figure out on your own” he scoffs, he doesn’t need to figure shit out

“(F/N)” he says your name matter of factly, you lift your head to look up at him before you feel something soft on your lips

Your eyes go wide, you stiffen up until his hand grazes your cheek gently. As if he was scared you’d break under his touch. You shut your eyes, trying to relax into the kiss

Shakily, you snake your arms around his neck, and he deepens his embrace

Passion, fear, so many emotions and words that could never be said were being spoken through this moment. Everything he’s wanted to say to you, you could feel through the way his lips enveloped your own, the way he gently caressed your back in a comforting manner. All of his feelings, you understood

He’s the one who separates first, you’re left in a daze as he avoids your eyes once more

“That’s all you’re getting out of me, don’t expect more” you giggle, making bakugo look back at you

“Don’t fucking laugh at me you little-“

“Bakugo” he stops, looking at you skeptically, you smile back at him “from now on.. let’s just be us, no more holding back, no more secrets” you tilt your head at him, the gesture makes his own heart skip a beat and his palms are sweatier than usual

“Y-yeah.. whatever I don’t fucking care”

He gives your hand a squeeze “one day, when im number one,..” his red eyes pierce your own “I’ll make you mine, you got that?” You nod, a little flustered at his declaration before gathering up even more courage than before

“What’re you-“ you cut him off with a kiss to the cheek, then a kiss to the forehead, bakugo is getting increasingly more red by each kiss you place on his face and you back away to look at him. he’s got that same scowl on his face that’s a touch softer “the hell was that-“ you cut him off again with a kiss to the lips once more

This time, hes the one who’s frozen in shock, you cup his cheek in your hand, deepening the kiss slightly before you break it. Bakugo almost wants to pull you in for more but all he can give you is a blank expression as you whisper in his ear

“I’m already yours”

He can’t even muster up any words before you’re standing up, pretending like your face isn’t on fire . “Okay! Let’s head inside it’s getting too cold, how about I make us some tea yeah?” He just watches intently as you make your way to the door before following you, wordlessly he grabs your hand as you continue your speech about the different types of teas and what he’d like. You smile when he grabs your hand again, and he smiles when you squeeze his gently

…

“Aw man I lost!” When the door shuts, 4 people emerge from various hiding spots amongst the roof

Mina saunters over to the three boys before holding out her hand “pay up losers” she sings to them, begrudgingly the three place several yen dollars into her hand

You were the one to confess first, after all, looks like her and Kaminari’s sleepover plan worked

~~~

“I’m glad you and kacchan are back to normal, (f/n)” at lunch, about two weeks after the roof incident, you’re sitting with midoriya, you give him a happy look, nodding “yep! better than ever me and him” you can’t stop the blush from forming on your face, you’re saved by a familiar voice

“Oi (F/N)” you look up and grin, he stands there with his scowl. Usually, you’d get up and follow him to eat lunch alone together, but this time you decided otherwise

“Let’s sit here today Katsuki!” You beam at him, he wants to argue with you but he decides it’s not worth it, he groans before pouting as he plops in the seat next to you, you smile “wow, no yelling today bakubro?” Kirishima smirks at bakugo, before Bakugo can retort, Kaminari, unfortunately, starts up again

“You two sure are close nowadays~” Bakugo glares daggers at Kaminari “mind your business you rat” his fist slams the table. under the table, you feel his hand take yours, entwining your fingers “nothings fuckin changed” he mutters. you glance at him, smiling as he begins to eat his food

The conversations moves forward, and throughout Bakugo, or you, have yet to let go of the others hand, like it’s naturally this way as you speak amongst your friends

‘Yeah…’ you think to yourself, stealing glances , admiring his crimson red eyes, his spiky blonde hair, and the way he sends quick retorts back to your other classmates when they annoy him

He glances at you, admiring your infectious laugh, your soft hair, your glowing aura, you

Yeah, nothings changed

End

____

Sorry about spelling mistakes I did not realize this would be this long, I thought of the sleepover thing and thought it would be funny and then boom it spiraled out of control

Hope you enjoyed! This is my first time posting a oneshot here so im kinda nervous pls be nice to me ;-;

[mrsjjonstby]

Whispers in the rain

Pairings: bf!riki x fem!reader Synopsis: riki opens up about his feeling on a rainy night Warnings: fluff, skin ship (let me know if I missed any)

Riki was the type of person who preferred actions over words; he chose to show his love by actions rather than words.

He was never the type to gush or shower his feelings in declarations, but in the quiet, unspoken moments, his love was clear, like how his hand is always on the small of your back, the way he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, or the fleeting glance he throws your way when he thinks you’re not looking.

These gestures speak louder than anything he could ever say. You know this well—better than anyone. And he feels very lucky to have an understanding and loving partner like you.

You both find yourselves on your bed after a long day. The world outside feels far away, separated by the steady sound of rain hitting the large glass windows. The peaceful music of rain droplets mingling with your soft breathing creates a calm atmosphere.

There's an enveloping silence, broken only by the faint rustle of blankets as you shift slightly, adjusting to the warmth of Riki’s body next to yours. Wrapped up in each other’s arms beneath the heavy comforter, the darkness in the room feels intimate rather than foreboding.

It’s past midnight, but neither of you has drifted off yet. The clock hits 12:00am and despite the exhaustion pulling at your bodies, sleep hasn’t found you. You’re lost in your own thoughts just like he is, but there’s comfort in knowing that neither of you feels the need to fill the silence with a conversation. The presence of each other is enough.

The silence is broken by Riki, his voice soft as if he doesn't entirely want to disturb the peace. “Are you asleep?” he whispers, his breath warm against your neck as he gazes down at you, his eyes searching your face.

Even in the dark, he can see you with the moonlight filtering from the windows and he thinks you look absolutely beautiful.

Your eyelids flutter open at the sound of his voice, and you meet his gaze in the moonlight. “I’m not,” you murmur, your voice equally quiet, as though anything louder would shatter the delicate tranquillity of the night.

He hums in response, the sound barely audible, and without thinking, his hand, which had been resting over your waist, slips beneath the fabric of your sweatshirt.

His fingers brush against the bare skin of your back, tracing slow, lazy patterns. The touch isn’t meant to be sensual, but comforting—a wordless expression of affection.

“I know I don’t say this a lot," he begins, his voice slightly hesitant, “but I love you so much. And I’m really grateful to have you by my side.” He can’t bring himself to look you in the eye as he speaks, choosing instead to bury his face in the crook of your neck, the tip of his nose grazing your skin.

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. It’s not often that he voices his feelings like this, and the raw sincerity behind his words makes you melt.

You chuckle slightly at his behaviour while bringing your hand to run your fingers through his hair, your touch tender and relaxing. “I’m grateful for you too, baby,” you whisper, feeling the weight of your own emotions welling up. “I love you so much.”

You can feel him smile against your skin as he places a small kiss there.

At that moment, time seems to stand still. The rain continues to fall, and the night wraps around you like a protective shield. In the quiet of the room, there’s nothing but the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the steady thrum of your heartbeats, and the unspoken love that fills the space between you.

You don’t need grand gestures or elaborate words—this is enough. This is everything. .....

©mrsjjongstby all writing belong to me. do not copy, modify or repost my works. A/n: okayyy, ahhh even though I wrote this like 2 days back, I didnt have the time to upload it, so, uploaded it today! hope you enjoyed this! I was really having a hard time on what to write but thought a chill cosy riki fic would do ! stay hydrated<3

[mikkomacko]

Him and I- Devil-ween

Nico Hischier x reader, Mob Boss!Nico

Warnings: None

A/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN FRIENDS!! Here’s a little something to give you an idea of Halloween in the mob universe. Hope you all love it and as always feel free to send me and questions or comments!

____________________________________________

The breeze blowing off the water is crisp and cool, not that you mind. Fall weather isn’t your favorite, always bouncing back and forth between hot and cold, but you prefer it over the sticky and humid summers. The sun is just a little too hot with your sweater on, so you welcome the cold wind.

You swipe away the strands of hair that have stuck to your lip gloss in the breeze, tucking them behind your ear before reaching for Nico’s hand again.

He’s holding his out for you, fingers widened so you can intertwine yours with his. Leaves crunch under your sneakers, the limbs of trees on the waterfront slowly turning to bare bones.

Nico likes the fall, likes the colors of the trees and being able to wear his beanies and cardigans. So he mosies as the two walk along the waterfront, the morning sun casting a funky shadow of your forms walking together.

“I was thinking,” he says after taking a sip of his to-go coffee, lightly squinting as he looks to you. “We should have a party at the house for Halloween, instead of doing the bar thing.”

In all the years you’ve known Nico (and the Devs), they’ve never not spent Halloween at the bar. Nico lets them go insane with it, fog machines and fake spider webs, elaborate costumes and way too much alcohol.

“You want to throw a party?” You question, and he shrugs. “And by you, you mean me? Because you’re a terrible decorator and cannot for the life of you match a menu to a theme.”

Nico opens his mouth, eyebrows scrunched together in defiance. He falters though, immediately closing his mouth and looking off towards the river. “Alright fine, I’m bad with parties,” he concedes and you giggle gleefully. “But I want this to be our party. We plan it all together.”

He stops walking, tugging you by the hand into his chest and then taking a hold of your waist. The wind and leaves blow around you, dog walkers and morning joggers keep moving down the waterfront path. But you and Nico stay still, everything moving around you two.

You fiddle with the top button of his cardigan, the one he always leaves open. “Together?” He nods, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on your hip.

“Ok,” you agree, excited to finally have a holiday at the overly large house the two of you have built. You’ve had gatherings before, but nothing formal, nothing like this. Like it’s a family tradition in the making. “But we still have to put out candy for trick or treaters.”

Nico smiles, not at all deterred by your bargain. Trailing your hand up his shoulder and around his neck, you lightly urge him to lean down even more.

“But you’re wearing a costume.”

He kisses you before you can protest, gentle and sweet lips muffling the sound of indignation that squeaked out of you.

You can feel his evil little smirk against your mouth.

~~~~

“This is useless,” you groan, “I don’t even like Halloween.”

Nico tries really hard not to laugh at that, biting the inside of his cheek as he sorts through the hoards of decorations that have come in these past couple weeks. Moving the red string lights to the stack of outdoor decor, he glances over to see you fighting with the flame cutouts, trying to figure out how the different layers fit together to make it look like real fire.

Something on the cutouts snaps into place, and for a moment your frozen but relief glimmers in your gaze as you gently set them on the living room floor. Only for the flames to clatter onto the hardwood in pieces.

“That’s it, I’m not coming.” You say, furious and annoyed as you shove all decorations away from you. Nico’s never seen you like this, so frazzled over something that’s supposed to be fun. He thought you’d eat up any chance to have all the boys over, to host something for them.

Apparently he was wrong.

“Come on baby,” he tries sympathetically, standing over you. Holding his hands out, he helps you up from the floor. “Don’t be a grump.”

“Me?” You deadpan, blinking at him. “I’m the grump?”

“Yes,” he laughs, “a cute one, but still a grump.”

You roll your eyes at him, blowing the baby hairs off your face with a puff of annoyed air and Nico takes it upon himself to brush them away for you.

“I don’t even like Halloween Nico.” You whine.

“You said that already baby.”

“But it’s true. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this.”

Nico smiles, bemused and cupping your pouting face in his large palms. “This is supposed to be the fun part. Decorating and costumes, fun foods and drinks. I even let you pick our costumes.”

You perk up at that, a wicked smile teasing the corner of your lips and Nico’s heart drops a bit. Why are you looking at him like the cat that got the canary?

~~~~

“Are you serious?”

Somehow you two pulled it off. The whole house and yard for decorated, fake Jack o’lanterns lining the drive with blood red lights in them. The cut outs around the outside of the house and mood lighting that make the whole place look like it’s on fire.

Fog machines and red light bulbs, neon blood that glows in the lights splattered on the windows and doors. The back yard foggy and pulsing with strobe lights and even more red and orange flames.

The Devils Den.

That was what you two had decided on. You’d make the house look like it rose straight up from hell. Not terrifying, but spooky and really cool.

Nico loved it. He thought it was a good theme for your first Halloween party together with the devs. Everything was perfect. Well…everything but the costumes.

“That is supposed to be mine!” Nico whines, pointing a finger at the top of your head. You giggle gleefully, twirling the bedazzled end of your pointed tail in your hand.

“No, you said devil and angel. You never said you wanted to be the devil.”

“But-“ he can’t even argue. You got him there. He had suggested to go with the theme that you and him and be a devil and an angel. Then he left you to order them, pick accessories and all that.

But he never clarified who would be who. He assumed you’d know and do that. Now he understands why you were so entertained by the costumes. You stole his and you knew it’d be hilarious.

“I think it’s cute Nico,” you say, dropping your tail to lay behind you as you press into his chest. The lights flash, glinting off your bedazzled devils horns and dark red lips. Your eyes look him up and down, a pleased sparkle shimmering in your dark pupils. He’s in all white, the robe slowly and flowy looking, a large pair of feathered wings stretched across his back and a sword to sit at his hip.

It is a cool costume. But Nico’s not much of an angel. And you’re not much of a devil.

Still, he doesn’t say anything, just pouting as you take the makeup from his hands that he’d brought from upstairs. You had left them hidden in his costume and even though he doesn’t know how to put on makeup, or particularly want to, he lets you dust glitter on his cheekbones and make them all rosy with blush. Because for the first time since he brought up Halloween, you actually look excited about something.

You had fun with the costumes, and he’ll go along with it like you went along with this whole shebang. Even if Timo and Jonas bust out laughing at the sight of him. And Jesper and Nicole swipe at his shimmering cheekbones and coo about him being whipped. And yes somehow he’s still fine even after Jack and Luke catch sight of you in your all black ensemble, shirt tight and tutu short and fluffy, and holler about you being hotter than Nico.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dress up,” Mercer says in greeting, tilting his red solo cup to his lips. The hood of his Clifford the Big Red Dog costume falls over his eyes, and you push it back for him.

“She doesn’t like Halloween,” Marino teases, hiding his smirk by stroking over his fake handlebar mustache. Nico internally cringes, knowing it’s true but that you won’t admit it to anyone. You never want to seem like a party pooper, especially not when Halloween is big to the rest of them, but you admitted to Nico before your first Halloween together that you hated it.

It was too much work for one night, too much expectation. Costumes never turned out right, they were too expensive, and you don’t like being scared.

All in all, you usually skipped the holiday.

“Is that why you always show up to the bar on Halloween in just black clothes?”

You scoff at Luke, offended. “I wore a witch hat a couple of times!” Which is true, Nico laughs to himself, tuning out of the conversation in favor of looking at you. Your hair is smooth and shiny, blown out elegantly so that your horns are the center of attention. You’ve sharpened the appearance of your cheekbones and nose, lined your eyes with black and a tiny bit of red.

Red wings that match his to a T lie on your back, the red devil tail clipped to the band of that tiny skirt you’re wearing. Nico knows if he were to take a step back and look you up and down he’d be able to see far more of your ass than he’d like to be looking at in public. He makes a mental note to walk behind you as much as possible tonight, especially when he sees the way the band of the your thigh high socks stretch around your curves, the silk bows on them cute and taunting.

Nico feels his mouth water, butterflies fluttering around his stomach and chest. He thinks the boys may be teasing you, but he can’t really tell because he’s not listening. But he can see the pout on your lips, smiling when you look at him expectantly.

“Hello, guardian angel,” you motion around, “beat them up please?”

Nico laughs, slinks an arm around your waist and presses in close to you. “Let’s a get drink first,” he compromises, pressing a kiss to your head. “Then I will,” he agrees. He’ll agree to anything you ask of him tonight, and not just because he’s your guardian angel.

But because at the end of night, he’s the one you’re feeding syringe Jell-O shots too and he’s the one that’s gonna head upstairs later with your lipstick smeared all around his mouth, and yeah he’s the one that’s gonna hike up that innocent little skirt and make you feel good.

Buzzed and messy, you pull the shot from his mouth and slip into your own, heavy eyes not straying from his as you empty the second half of it into your mouth, sucking at the tip for good measure. You’re hanging off his shoulders, packed between bodies of Devs and their dates, and whoever else they invited. And you’re playing with the ends of his hair, looking at him with such dark and loving eyes that he realizes maybe you are a bit of a devil.

[artists-ally]

{Confess Your Lust} Reader x Azriel

You all can thank @riddlesb1tch for this. I have no regrets. It's just pure filth, but I know my whores like this 🥰 Rose this is all for you so you're the only one I care about liking it. Hope you all enjoy, title is from this song. highly suggest listening to while reading btw

Word Count: 4,682

Warnings: SMUT. Minor Dom/Sub concepts, bondage, degrading, teasing, orgasm delay/denial, overstimulation, Az is your pretty little good boy and you're gonna let him know ;)

Tagging: @riddlesb1tch @thelov3lybookworm @librafairy @needylilgal022 @bubybubsters @harrystylesfan2686 @justdreamstars @cyrygher @berryzxx @thehighladywrites @xaithings

Summary: Azriel requested a very special birthday present. And who were you to tell him no.

~~~~~~~

“Cassian, as long as I’ve known you, you’ve gotten me a dagger for my birthday.”

“Yup,” he grins. 

“You know it’ll never suffice to Truth Teller, right?”

“An Illyrian can hope,” Cassian sighs, a relaxed smile on his face. “I know they all go in a drawer at the bottom of your dresser.”

Azriel rolls his eyes, but thanks his brother anyway. He appreciates them, but they hold no candle to the pretty piece of steel sat on his thigh.

Mor had gifted him a new pair of boots and a matching belt to go with them. They were of sleek leather, polished so well he could see his distorted reflection in the curve of the toe. He might have to set them aside for a special occasion so he doesn’t ruin them with training and missions. 

Rhys and Feyre gifted him a custom made weapons display case. It had racks and shelves for all his favorites, as well as drawers for the ones Cassian constantly gifted. It was complete with a throwing pad on the side to practice different strikes as well as a sharpening stone. He’d never admit to anyone but himself, but it made the back of his throat string. 

Amren promised him a night out at Rita’s, and coming from her it was quite generous. 

Buy my gift… it was something to be shared between my mate and no one else. They didn’t need to know the secret behind the look in my eye. It was waiting at our newly constructed home, just like I promised. Just like he had asked. 

“That’s it from us, I don’t see another one here,” Cassian looked around the rubble of discarded bags and decorative paper, not finding any other boxes. “Did Yn already give you hers?”

“No,” I said, sipping my glass of wine. “It’s back at the house. But he already knows what it is.”

“He does?”

“He does?” Azriel furrowed his brows, clearly not remembering the conversation the two of us had several months ago. 

Azriel sauntered into the dining hall, hands fisted at his sides, wings tucked in close. “Can I talk to you?”

The sudden spring of worry in his eyes made me put down my book, following him to a nearby couch to sit on. 

“What’s up, my love?” I asked tenderly, locking a piece of hair behind his ear. 

“If I asked you to do something for me- to me… would you?” 

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Az,” I cocked my head to the side, getting a better look at his eyes. Those wicked shadows blocked some of his tan skin, so I gently nudged them out of the way.

“I umm- I was thinking that we might change some things up. I’ve had a lot of thoughts about these things and I want them. And I want to see if you could want them too.”

“Okay,” I nodded, waiting for a response.

“I want to try using some toys. On me.”

Well, that is not where I thought this was going to go at all. Utterly shocked, but not opposed to the idea, I asked him to elaborate. And by the Cauldron did he. He went into detail of what he wanted, why he wanted it, how he wanted it… it sounded like a dream come true. 

“I’m so happy you told me about this. Yes, I’d be more than happy to fulfill these fantasies with you,” I smiled eagerly. “I promise I’ll make it special for you. Just like you did for me.”

Azriel still didn’t seem to get it, so I flashed a mental image down the bond, watching his brows unfurrow and raise up his face. It was almost ridiculous how far they went up. Nobody else said anything as they watched the interaction. 

“Oh.”

“Oh… what? What did she get you?” Rhys prodded his brother, Azriel not breaking our eye contact. I just smirked, winking in his direction before turning back to the wine. Mor spared me a curious glance, but I gave away no details. The others didn’t need to know what happened behind those closed doors. 

“Just something to play with later,” Azriel swallowed, throat working down and then back up. Only I would be able to note the change in his scent. “Time for pastries?”

I giggled as he deflected the question and moved onto another topic. It was another hour or so before anyone made a move to leave, but as soon as Cassian rolled out, his hands were all over me. 

“Are you being serious?” His hands were cupping my cheeks, a desperate plea to his voice. 

“Of course, my shadow. Go on up, get yourself ready. I’ll be up in a little bit, okay? Send word when you’re ready,” I instruct, moving out of his reach to begin cleaning up some of the mess left behind from the small party. 

“Won’t you come do it for me?” His strong arms wrapped around me, the soft scent of his wings wafting in the air. “I could really use your help.”

“I thought you wanted me to take control?”

“I do, that’s why I-”

“Didn’t I give you an order?” 

“Y-Yes, I just wanted-”

“Then go. Don’t make me ask again, Azriel.” 

“Yes my lady,” he obediently replied. I watched him go up the stairs, shadows lingering behind before darting after him. Once I heard the door click softly shut, I continued my work around the living area and the kitchen. I didn’t have any desire to be cleaning, I just needed to build up some tension. For this to work as he wanted to, I needed to do the unpredictable. Which would be really fucking difficult since he is basically progammed to know every turn and corner. 

I threw out trash, packed dishes in the sink, scrubbed them clean and put them away. About five minutes ago he sent a shadow curling my way, enticing me up towards the play room. I ignored the urgency of the call, deciding I’ll go when I want to. And he’s just going to have to wait. 

Azriel isn’t the most patient creature in this world, that’s for damn sure. 

Making him wait this long would be torture. 

Precisely how I wanted it to be. 

Finally, after another ten-ish minutes of stalling, I make my way upstairs. Purposefully being as loud as I can without stomping up the stairs. My heels click gently across the hard stone. As I near the door, I am hit with a wave of arousal coming from the room. It’s thick and tastes devine on the back of my tongue.

The sight of him sitting in the chair, wings facing me, arms ready and waiting behind his back is a marvelous sight. I can’t help but smile. He looks so pretty. 

“I thought you forgot about me,” Azriel said, a smirk in his tone. “Is it time for my present yet?”

“So impatient, all of you Illyrians,” I snorted, rolling my eyes as I made my way to the wall in front of him. Hung up, there were various toys and playthings. All could be used for pleasure or pain, depending on the mood. “You’ll get it when I say you do. Give me your wrists.”

I held the bundle of rope between my palms, stalking back over to Azriel in his chair. As I pass around to where his hands are locked behind his back, I make sure to tell him he’s allowed to safeword if and whenever he needs to. 

“I know, my love, thank you. I know you’ll take care of me,” he smiles gently, offering his lips.

“You asked to be overwhelmed, so I’m not going to stop unless you give me the word. I want you begging me to stop, remember? You’ll sound so pathetic and pretty when you whimper,” I smiled sickly sweet, pecking his lips with my own. “Ready?”

He gave a firm nod, hazel eyes locking on my body as I pulled away.

Back at the wall, I open the drawer in the chest, finding those two boxes I hid away weeks ago. How he never found them, I’ll never know, but I’m so glad. One was a vibrating cuff. The other was a dildo. 

After taking them out of the box and sanitizing them, I left them there for Az to see, but not to use yet. No, I wanted the anticipation to do the work for me. Rather than giving him what he wanted, I made my way over to him and trailed my fingers around his frame. 

Every flick of my finger sent goosebumps slithering across his skin. Up his neck… down his arms. That sensitive place between his wings twitched as I trailed through it, delicately applying pressure on the muscle. 

“Fuck, baby you… you can’t tease me like that.”

“I think I can do whatever I want,” I replied. “You are tied up at my mercy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Good boy,” I smiled, threading my fingers through his thick hair, latching onto his scalp. I pulled to the side, watching his body move with the force. His chest rose and fell, I could feel his heartbeat down the bond. Wicked. Powerful. Anticipating my next move. 

I slid into his lap, feeling just how much he needed me through his pants. I leaned just far enough away that he couldn't capture my mouth with his. He tried twice to kiss me, but each time I leaned away, a sick smile on my lips. 

Azriel scoffed, “I just wanted a kiss.”

“I know you do, but I didn’t give you permission, did I?” I mocked, leaning in closer and closer. “Your pleasure belongs to me tonight. I decide when you get what you’ve earned. And all you’ve done so far is complain that I haven’t given you anything. That’s not how good boys behave is it?”

I can see the fire in his eyes, those two sides of his personality fighting each other head on. This desire inside him to be taken care of, to be set free by my control versus that blistering need to be in control of everything. 

I’ll break him free with my bare hands if I have to. 

“Don’t be shy, my shadow. You can say it, it’s okay. No one can hear you besides me. Unless you want everyone to know just how much you need me.”

“I’ll behave,” he recites quickly. “Please.”

“Look at you, begging for it already,” I smirked, standing up from my place in his lap. He groans, cock clearly straining against the fabric covering his legs. 

I circle him. Like a predator to its prey. “You look so pretty tied up, my shadow.”

“When I asked you to play with me, I didn’t expect to be tortured.”

“Tortured?” I spun around to see his hazy eyes. “Oh, my sweet love, I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already begging? Don’t be so pathetic, Azriel. You can take more, can’t you?” I nodded his head for him, fingers fisted in his hair. “Yes you can, good boy.”

I quickly walked around to see his pink cheeks, heated with humiliation. I had no intention of going easy on him the first time. 

In a swift motion, I sheathed the blade at his thigh, cutting away his pants, leaving him just in his undershorts. He gasped, eyes going wide as roughly pulled them down his hips. “Y-Yn what are you-”

“Quiet,” I demanded. 

Azriel shut his mouth, panting heavily as I fisted his cock in my hand. His head tipped back in pleasure, and I almost let myself enjoy it for a second before I ripped my hand away. Those fierce hazel eyes were back on mine in an instant, silently begging for more. He made a wounded sound when I walked away, grabbing the vibrating cuff from the dresser. 

“Let’s play a game, okay? I put this on, and you aren’t going to cum. If you take it like the good boy I know you are, then I’ll give you something else to play with. If you cum… well, you’re just not going to stop.”

Azriel looks genuinely afraid. Like I might break him if I go through with this. I’ve never wanted to break something so badly just to put it back together again. 

I kneel in front of him, spreading his knees apart. I can see the generous amount of gel he’s used to work himself open for later. His body is glowing, vibrating with tension. I spit on his dick, enjoying the sight of him flinching as it hits his hot skin. 

Being extra agonizing, I blow some cool air on his tip to really watch him jump. I giggle, sliding the cuff over his length. The pale blue color is a stark contrast to his bright red skin. There is a button near the bass to turn it on and to switch the intensity. The gentle purr of the toy comes to life with a quick tap, and Azriel damn near falls out of the chair.

“Relax,” I say, forcing his knees down. I looked up at him, chest unmoving as he held his breath. “Breath Azriel.”

“I- I can-can’t,” he chokes. “Fuck Yn, it’s too much.”

“It’s only on the first setting, you’ll get used to it. In thirty seconds I’m going to put it on the next setting,” I warn, watching the way his body quivers slightly. 

My mates eyes are slammed shut, teeth clenched together. His cock gently pulses with the vibe, slick trickling down his shaft in a steady stream. To be a little extra mean, I run my tongue up the length.

“Oh gods Yn…” he pleads, head tossed back. His chest is on display, perfectly cut muscles constricting with every breath. 

“You’re being so good, Azriel,” I praise, relishing in the way his body relaxes into the words. “Just a little longer.”

I stand, walking to the corner of the room to the closet. I quietly wheel out the next part of his surprise, setting them aside for when I need them. When I come back, I notice the sheen of sweat lining his chest and torso. It glimmers in the low light, catching at all the right angles. 

I stroke my hands up and down his shoulders, working the tense muscles. He relaxes into my body and I travel further. Over his chest, over his abs, down his thighs. When I reach his cock, I press the next button and turn up the intensity. 

Az growls. In a way I’ve never heard him before. He curls in on himself, kicking his feet against the floor. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, Azriel. I know you want to be my good boy and take your birthday present so well. You’re gonna take it until I tell you you’ve had enough.”

“It feels so good,” he moans. His thighs are shaking, his cock flushed almost purple. “M-More.”

“And now you’re begging for it? Gods, Az you are so easy for me. I’m sure if you'd found this before tonight, I would’ve caught you with it, huh? So fucking desperate.” I can’t help but tease him, he makes it so easy. And he is being so good for me, why not give him what he wants? “You asked for more, Azriel.”

I click it up another notch, watching the way it sends shock waves through the muscles in his thighs and abs. He’s open-mouth panting now, unable to take a breath without whining. He starts shaking his head back and forth, eyes blinking rapidly. 

“You’re not allowed to cum, Azriel. I didn’t give you permission.”

My reminder makes him sob. “Please, please Yn. Fucking please let me cum. Fuck I-I can’t- Yn I can’t-”

“You’re going to,” I demand, pushing the hair out of his face. “Because I told you to. You wanna make me happy, right? I won’t be happy if you cum. You don’t wanna disappoint me, do you?”

He shakes his head no rapidly, sweat dripping down his face. 

“Then don’t cum. It’s not that hard.”

Azriel cries out, the noise coming deep within his chest. He tries to cross his legs to relieve the pressure, but I force them to stay open. He shakes and writhes, wings slanted behind his back in a mess of shadows. He cannot sit still, but I don’t reprimand him for it. 

The room is filled with the sound of his harsh breathing and the hum of the vibrator. It’s filled with the scent of his sweat and breath. 

“Yn- Yn turn it off.”

“No.”

He curses, a colorful menagerie falling from his wet lips. “Please please please please please please.”

The sound of him begging, truly begging, makes me grin in a sinister way. This is exactly how I wanted him. A whimpering, desperate mess for me to play with. 

I turn it off. 

Azriel blows out a breath, body still writhing. His cock stands tall, a deep shade of maroon. I know one flick of my tongue would send him over the edge. And having that kind of power over him feels incredible. 

After letting him rest for a second, I decide it’s time for some real fun. I pluck the dildo off the dresser and stand in front of Azriel, waiting for him to look up at me. When those hazel eyes meet mine, they’re glassy and full of pleasure. Almost too much. He looks drunk with his cheeks so rosy and ears flaming red. He looks so adorable all fucked out like this. 

“Stand,” I commanded, watching the words register on his face. 

His knees tremble, but he manages, stretching his taught legs. The sight of him shaking so vividly would normally scare me. But right now it's… it's beautiful. I made him this way, and this ache between my legs couldn't be stronger. 

The cup on the end suctions to the metal chair when I place the dildo down. “Sit.”

“Yn-”

“Sit,” I snapped, eyes hardening. Azriel swallowed, looking from me to the chair and back. “Don’t make me ask again. I told you to sit. So sit down. Now.”

He turned back around, standing above the chair. Slowly, incredibly slowly, he lowered himself to the chair. His arms were bulging against the ropes, veins running along his biceps throbbing with his pulse. But he sits. All the way down. 

With a proud smile, I drink in the way he sits. It's so rigid. His chest barely moves with his quick breaths. His eyes are screwed shut. 

“Azriel,” I taunt, my voice sickly sweet. “What's got you breathing so hard, hmm? Are you in too much pleasure? Does it feel too good?”

His mouth gapes open, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“You’re at a loss for words with how good you feel. So fucking pathetic, completely fucked out the first time you’re taking a toy?” I click on the vibrator again, starting at level two. He thrashes, then grunts, tossing his head back. “You can take it. You’ve been such a good boy. You’ve been pleasing me so much, Azriel, did you know that? You’re making me so happy. Keep being a good boy and I’ll let you cum.”

“Yn…” he breathed, head falling back to meet my eyes.

“What do you need, my shadow? More? You want more?” He shakes his head no, but remains silent. “You can do better than a pitiful shake of your head. Tell me what you want, Azriel.”

“Yn… Yn…” he chants, my name a plea of desperation. It's airy and full of need. 

“That’s it, baby. Tell me what you need, I promise I’ll give it to you.”

With bleary eyes, he looks at me. “Please let me cum.” 

The words are broken and a little slurred, but he told me what he needed. So I’ll give it to him. 

“Such a good boy, Azriel. Telling me how much you need to cum. I’ll make sure you do, baby. Just keep taking it for me. You’re doing soooo good.”

I kept talking to him, praising him for how good he’s taking everything I’ve given him. Azriel is babbling and pleading like a total whore. While he drones on and on, I wheel out the surprise I set in the corner. Three long, vertical mirrors are set around him so he can see every angle of his perfect body. 

So he can watch himself come undone without me even touching him. 

“Azriel, look at me baby,” I commanded. He settles his gaze on me, then the mirrors. “Don’t you think you look so pretty?”

The way his body slumps in the chair sent chills down my spine. He spread his legs, admitting the cuff constricting his cock. Azriel pushes on his toes lightly, bobbing up and down on the dildo. “Fuck I- Yn I look so…so-”

“I want you to keep your eyes locked on the mirror. Don’t look at anything but yourself. This is all for you, take it all in, my shadow. Enjoy watching yourself fall apart for me.”

Azriel nodded. 

I circled him slowly, amused at how… delicate he looked despite the harsh reality of his current fate. He was tied up, more vulnerable than ever. And yet he looked so sweet and simple. And devastatingly ruined. 

At the first touch to the leathery material of his wings, Azriel jumped. He shouted and swore. 

“Relax, Azriel.”

“I can’t handle it when you touch my wings, Yn. I’m not gonna be able to hold on,” Az pleads. I touch him again in the same spot. He shudders and grits his teeth. “Yn please.”

“Eyes on yourself, Azriel.”

With a deep, controlled breath, he pulls his eyes back to the mirrors. As I touch and explore the most sensitive parts of him, he twitches in every direction, effectively screwing himself further on the dildo. I take the curve of my nail and trace a vein running in his wing. Fibers in his muscles seize. 

In the mirror, I can see the cuff working nicely. His chest is coated in sweat and it takes all my strength to not run my tongue from the tip of his cock to the base of his throat. Instead, I continue to tease his wings. 

Azriel has this one specific spot right at the base of his wing that drives him insane. The moment I begin to move my hand, he begins to moan uncontrollably. He begs and whines and begs again for me to make him come. 

“Are you watching yourself, baby?” I ask, locking eyes with him in the mirror. When he nods, eyes cast down at his body, I stroke his wing. Twice. And tears spill down his face. 

“F-Fuck Yn I need to cum. I need to cum, fuck PLEASE let me cum please please please,” Azriel chants like I’m a long forgotten god. As if I would be able to grant all his wishes and desires. And it fills me with a fire I’ve never felt before. 

“You’ve been such a good boy, Azriel. Go ahead. You can cum, let go.” 

The second I gave him permission, he came. His whole body convulsed with the force. His legs and torso shivered, ecstasy pouring out of him with every whine and curse. 

“Fuuuucccckkkkk,” he mewls, watching his cum slide down his cock, spreading over his thighs. The cuff keeps vibrating, drawing out his pleasure. “Turn it off turn it off turn it off-”

“Don’t you wanna see how far you can go? You look so pretty when you cum, I could keep watching you forever, my dear. Why don’t you do it again, okay? You’ve earned it, go ahead and cum for me, just once more.”

His whole body is flush, the same beautiful color as his aching cock. He strains against the ropes and for a minute I think he’s going to break free. But he falls slack, a steady wave of whimpers as the cuff continues to drain him. The flow of it never stops. 

After a few more seconds to enjoy the show for myself, I turn off the vibrator. I gently slide it off, the majority of his seed landing on my fingers. I make a bog show of licking it off for him. 

Azriel is lost in his mind somewhere when I begin to undo the ropes. I massage his shoulders, working blood back into his extremities. 

“You did such an amazing job, my love. I am so proud of you, I hope you had as good of a time as I did.”

Azriel stayed quiet, but he nodded his head, gulping down air. He was shaking, but judging by the way the bond felt, he felt nothing but euphoria. I had done exactly what I was asked, and he loved it. 

While I kneaded his shoulders, kissing up and down his back, he recovered. While I was strong, I wasn’t strong enough to lift a fully grown Illyrian warrior and carry him to the bathroom. Currently, he’s in no condition to move under his own volition, so we’ll take our time until his strength is restored. 

“I love you so much, Az. My beautiful, strong mate. You did such a good job, such a good boy for me.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, a lazy smile on his lips. “Love being your good boy.”

“You are, you did so fucking good Azriel. It was so hot watching you cum like that,” I smiled, kissing his forehead, then his lips when he pursed them to me. “Feeling good enough to get to the bathroom? The tub is waiting, ready for you.”

My mate nodded, “Only if you’ll come in with me.”

Giggling, I slung his arm over my shoulder. “Of course I will. Stand up slowly, take your time. I’ve got you.”

With a few hisses as he stood up off the chair, wings splaying out to help him keep his balance, I guided him to the bathroom. He could stand just… not super well. We stumbled, but made it to the tub in one piece. I left him to climb in as I stripped, adding some salts to the bath. 

“I don’t care about that, just get in, my love.”

Illyrians, not known for their extended patience, but they are known for their incredible brutality and bravery.

As well as their wingspans. 

Before he could yank me in with my clothes on, I swept them away with a flick of my hand and climbed in. Azriel guided me to sit in his lap, face to face. His warm, scar-flecked hands caressed my body. It wasn’t in a particularly sexual manner, but I was far too turned on to not let a whimper slip. But he didn’t smirk or crack a teasing joke, he just continued to roam my body. 

It seemed to calm him, the edges of ecstasy fading away from the bond one strand at a time. His heart rate slowed and that glaze over his eyes faded away. 

“Feeling okay?” I asked, stroking my hands up and around the tattoos on his shoulders and chest. 

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “Just… wow. My body feels so tingly.”

“Now you know how I feel when you make me cum multiple times.”

Azriel smiled, sending my heart tumbling in my chest. “Guess I should be a bit more gracious with you, shouldn’t I? Considering now you have what you need to retaliate.”

“I think you’d like it if I retaliated,” I grin. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Good time? I’ve never felt so satisfied in my whole life. Thank you for giving me that experience.”

I smiled so wide it hurt. “Of course, my shadow. But the next time you want to have a ‘new experience’, don’t hesitate to wait so long to tell me.”

“I promise,” Azriel whispers, cupping both sides of my face with his hands. Our foreheads lean in together. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[coffeegnomee]

Something that has always fascinated me deeply is how UNintelligable PrinceZam is when viewed from any pov besides his own. 

Because from PrinceZam’s pov, his lore is deep and rich and filled with struggles and worries and regret and fear and paranoia and justifications and good reasonings to do evil arcs. He really crafts the most interesting and sympathetic characters of all of lifesteal. He responds to the happenings of the server with deep lore every time. Pours everything out to chat, giving us the littlest details about his mindset at every moment. 

But from EVERYONE else’s pov he just does’t make sense. Like even I feel confused about PrinceZam when I watch him from other povs. There’s something about it that I can’t put my finger on. But more often than not, everyone views him with utter confusion. 

But this is the ONLY way other lifestealers interact with Zam. They don’t get to watch PrinceZam streams. They don’t see him like we do. Ever. 

And this really applies to every lifestealer ever, none of them get to see the lore from within that person's mind. The can only react to the external view of it.

What a fascinating little conundrum. 

Because with the Saturday session and Flame, I could not help but feel like he was actually just doing a Joker arc. Not Abyss, Joker. 

Because the Abyss was about player activity, sure, but it was more about the trap, and it grew into a “we will destroy all of spawn” over time.

The Joker arc was about making minutetech and jumper see that pacifism does not belong on lifesteal. This is the killing people server and you should kill people. Kill me. I will blow up builds until you kill me. 

Now, Flame does not have the pizzazz of the gay joker. He never will. And he probably will never make anything truly interesting with this lore from his own pov. (and bro keeps not streaming any of it)

But that’s not what intrigues me about it and made me so happy seeing it unfold. 

It’s because Zam was walking around saying the same damn lines that Minutetech said about Zam all throughout the joker arc. Some of them lines that were said between Minute and Ash without Zam around. The following are Zam quotes from the Saturday stream.

“they just want attention, if we don’t give them attention they’ll give up” almost word for word from minute about mapicc and zam. 

“If he’s going to throw a tantrum we mighteswell just not give him the fight”  

Them digging their heels in and not doing the one thing Zam/Flame wanted them to do: kill them. Not doing it because it was the one thing the crazy evil guy blowing up bases told you he wanted. 

“if i fight them i give them exactly what they want. It’s so fucked up. There’s no, there’s no winning option here. There’s nothing I can do to win”

“maybe some people can’t feel regret the way I do, that’s fine, i guess, that’s whatever.If that’s how he is, that’s how he is. But i don't believe that for a second” (remember who you were in s3 Zam!)

“He’s just going to blow up more. And that’s okay. I’m willing to let him do that. I honestly don't care. Like, if that’s what he wants to do then that’s what he does I guess”

“YOURE having fun, but no one is gonna log on and see this and say oh I wanna fight flame now. No one’s doing that dude. This isn’t how this works.”

FLAME: “it makes me happy bro, that’s all that matters” How many times did Zam insist that the Joker arc was fun. How many times did Jumper go “why are you doing this” and Zam said “it’s fun” without elaborating the nuanced undertones of the arc. 

Zam even dropped the MinuteTech patented "okay"s when Flame and Wemmbu were saying they were doing it for fun.

From the outside the lore was the same. The damn same. But this time we have the pb&j side from PrinceZam. And it fascinates me how similarly they approached the situation. 

And then as a final bonus, there’s the question about moral high ground. On the first day of the server, Ash was talking to Wemmbu and the following conversation unfolded (1:38:00) 

WEMMBU: “I have done nothing evil this season. Leowook killed me for no reason, then I died to fall damage for no reason, well, because my water glitched out, and then I died to Spoke for no reason… DUDE I’M ON THE MORAL HIGH GROUND THIS TIME! Without having to like, make things up. This is great.” 

ASH: “Yea, don’t do that bro. It’s not worth it. Seriously. It’s not worth it and you won’t even get a good video. Do you know how easy it is to be a good guy, and then last second go ‘I want to be an agent of chaos’ and how much that fucks everyone else on your team up?” 

And Zam on Saturday, “Why does it even matter? What the- what does moral high ground get me?!”

Ominous shit man.

[seonghwaddict]

ateez’s favourite positions — masterlist

requested by anon. genre. hc, smut rating. mature. warnings. sexual content mdni, various sex positions, nicknames n stuff. wc. 768.

[ lilo’s notes . . . ] thank you for requesting~ i had to do research for this and like… why are there so many names for the same positions??? and some of these are such weird obscure names i genuinely stared at my screen so blankly cuz who came up with these- not only that but some of the positions i saw looked SO UNCOMFORTABLE??? anyways, moving on and if you aren’t familiar with these position… i suggest looking them up because i will NOTTTTT be providing any links 😁

hongjoong

face sitting. when he says sit on his face he means sit on it. he likes how his mouths drives you wild and how you have to stop yourself from just grinding on his face—he’d lift you for like two seconds to encourage you to do just that. and you see that couch in his studio? yeah i’m not gonna elaborate.

“baby, sit.”

seonghwa

missionary. when he’s not torturing you with his tongue, he likes to fuck you deep and slow. missionary may sound very plain, but occasionally he’ll throw in a blindfold or some restraints. almost if the time, though, he wants it to be just you and him. he likes this position so he can see your face clearly, watching the way you unravel with each frustratingly slow grind of his hips.

“hm, look at you… so pretty and all for me.”

yunho

backseat driver. he’s not very picky about positions, but he does like having you in his lap while he’s gaming. whether it’s him ending a game badly and needing relief right there or you wanting to tease and distract him, he will always revel in the subtle arch of your back and bounce of your tits, having to keep both you and himself quiet when he’s on a call and playing with his friends.

“keep it down, yeah? we don’t want everyone to hear you like this, now do we?”

yeosang

leap frog. he’s an ass guy idc what ANYONE says. if you’re telling me he won’t stare at the way your ass bounces against pelvis, you’re dead wrong. he likes to reach over and give your clit some attention too. yeosang also leans down to kiss your back sweetly while also fucking you like his life depends on it. guys i am DEEP in yeosang brain rot rn if i continue i fear i won’t be able to stop.

“get your face out of that pillow, pretty girl. let me hear you.”

san

spooning. i think that, yes, occasionally he’d like to be rough, but i will NEVER back down from my soft dom!san agenda. in this position, he’s able to hold you and keep you warm and make you feel good all over. the technicalities(?) of spooning you feels good for the two of you—your thighs pressed together making your walls hug him tighter. this is also a good position for him to gently fuck you to sleep at the end of the day. also: comforting kisses all over your shoulders and the back of your neck… he just wants to make you feel nice and comfortable and keep you safe in his arms :(

“just relax, baby… you know i’ll take care of you.”

mingi

tabletop. if no one’s around, he’ll risk taking you right on the kitchen counter. if that’s not possible, he’ll lick the bedroom door and sweep any items off his desk and take you there. there’s something about seeing you say somewhere and being the one standing between your legs and coaxing orgasm after orgasm out you that makes his insides feel all hot and tingly. this also give the two of you good access to kiss each other all over your torsos.

“i’ve got you, doll, just give me one more, i know you can do it.”

wooyoung

ballet dancer. specifically against a wall, or door, or window, or- you get the point. any vertical surface will do. one hand on your waist or breast or neck and the other hitching your thigh around his hips. sometimes he’ll be fucking you so well, your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders or chest—he really likes that.

“does that feel good, jagi? yeah? i’ll keep doing that then, but make sure i can hear those pretty sounds, hm?”

jongho

cowgirl. don’t be fooled, though you may be on top, he’s still in control. he lets you fuck yourself on his dick for a bit and when you close, he’ll flip you over so quickly you get whiplash. but that’s on days where he’s feeling like a menace. other than that, he does actually love the sight of you on top of him, claiming him as yours. he doesn’t have a preference for sitting or laying down, he’s perfectly happy as long he can see your fucked out and desperate face.

“there you go… you take me so well…”

　　[ networks ... ] @cromernet @wonderlandnet

　　[ perm taglist — open ... ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 4 - You Might Be The Same As Me

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: As we exit the “enemies” phase, think of the enemies to friends as the match being lit and think of the friends to lovers as the candle taking thousands of words to burn. Chapter title from Homemade Dynamite by Lorde

Word Count: 6.9k (nice)

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Things start to change in the safe house. Contains usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, angst

Read on A03!

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Somehow, after the mission, you slept. Not well, but you did. You didn’t see Soldier Boy for almost fourteen hours after that odd moment in your room, only for him to suddenly drop on the couch next to you, watching the newly-fixed TV, holding a bowl and spoon.

“What the fuck is this,” he gestured to show playing on the screen, his mouth half-full with cereal. Crumbs fell into his beard, and he looked at the TV as if it had personally offended him.

You answered slowly, glancing between his loud, sloppy chews and the milk in his bowl, sloshing up to the sides as he settled into his seat. “Netflix.”

“That’s a stupid name for a show,” he snorted. “What does that even fucking mean?”

You shook your head. “No, the show is called Santa Clarita Diet. I’m watching it on Netflix.” He gave you a glance with a frown but remained silent, raising his eyebrows as you stared blankly.

His voice was clipped when he spoke. “What the fuck is Netflix?”

“Oh, um, it’s like a network. Like a modern TV station. It has a bunch of movies and shows, but you don’t have to wait for a certain time to watch them.”

“Huh,” he looked back to the TV. “Cocksucker mentioned something like that. I thought he was making shit up.”

“No, on demand is a pretty common thing now.” You shrugged.

“So all TV is on Newflux?”

“Netflix,” you corrected, growing more and more bemused by the conversation. “And no. We kind of just reinvented cable in a different format. There’s like a million of these websites, Vought even has their own. From what I can tell, the CIA gave us Netflix, Max, Disney, and Prime.”

“They’ll do that, but they won’t buy me weed,” he grumbled. “Fucking uptight pussies.”

“Yeah, well. They didn’t get us ad-free Disney or Prime, so I wouldn’t hold your breath about them giving you drug money.”

Soldier Boy only grunted, attention fixated on the TV. The silence between you stretched as you tried to figure out a perfect, organic way to bring up the whole “I told you what Homelander did to me and you put away groceries without me asking, what the fuck is happening” thing. Just as you were about to say something, hoping that the words would find you in the moment, you were cut off.

“What the fuck is this even about?” Soldier Boy asked with a sullen voice, still not looking away from the show.

“Uh, suburban zombies. I can change it if you want.” Anything, you thought, to keep this lack of antagonistic conversation going.

“No.” You waited for more elaboration but realized he wasn’t going to offer any, having fully turned away from you. You both remained on the couch, his eyes locked to screen as you remained in your seat, afraid to move and ruin whatever was happening.

The episode ended without any outbursts from either you or Soldier Boy, and you reached for the remote, only to be hit in the head by a soggy cheerio.

“What the hell?” You picked the cereal from your hair, turning to see Soldier Boy’s frustratingly casual expression. “What was that?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, nodding his head to where your hand had been on the remote.

“Why did you throw cereal at me?!” You snapped, holding the now mushy projectile to his face.

“To get your attention,” he answered, giving you an odd look. “You always get all bitchy when I touch you.”

“Oh.” You hesitated, your confusion only growing. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I can’t read your fucking mind. If it’s because of the Homelander thing, though, then you should remember-“

“No,” you rubbed your face in frustration. “Why did you need my attention?”

He rolled his eyes, as if it were obvious. “We’re going to keep watching this shit. It’s the least stupid thing I’ve seen so far. But you should fucking remember-“

“You could’ve just said that instead of throwing shit at me-“

“Would you fucking listen?” His familiar angry glare was beginning to form, so you closed your mouth. “If the touch thing is because of that Star-spangled pussyfuck Homelander, I meant what I fucking said last night.”

Your body tensed, trying to recall what he might be referencing. Last night, along with the previous twenty-four hours, had been replayed so much in your head it had become a simple blur of bad. "What you said?”

“I’m no rapist. I’m not an ugly pussy asshat who needs to.”

You look at him with an incredulous gape. “Needs to?”

“No part of sex is fun if she doesn’t want it. I like my woman begging me to keep going, and I only bite if they ask.” He gave you a brash grin. “I’ll show you whenever you want, Sunshine.”

“Charming,” you said under your breath, employing your now expert skills at ignoring his advances. “Would you like a trophy for the bare minimum?”

“I’m fucking serious.” He hissed, smile dropping, catching you off guard with the intensity and firmness of his expression. “If that’s why you’re so fucking annoying about me touching you, get over it.”

“Get over it?” You give a laugh of disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? First off, it has nothing to do with Homelander. Second off, if it did, I’m not going to just ‘get over it’ because this is 'annoying' for you.”

“Well then, what will make you get over it?” His question, though impatient, was said with a face of biting sincerity. At least, the closest thing to sincerity you deemed him capable of.

You tilted your head at him. “It’s not something I can get over.” Before he could respond, his mouth opening with a frown and squinted eyes, you continued. “It’s one of my powers. I can feel people’s emotions when I touch them, even if I don’t want to. I can’t turn it off, or ‘get over it’.”

His mouth remained open for another second, and you could almost see his brain slowly turning in his head. You waited, your own mind spinning with possible reactions he might meet you with. Wrathful shouting, angered distrust, cold disgust, forceful words and distance.

“Do you not like what you feel from me?” He asked, no twisted fury on his face, eyes filled with that analytical, intrusive look.

“No, that doesn’t matter to me. It's intrusive, and usually people don’t like when I do it, so I just avoid touching anyone.”

“But you can’t fucking control it.” His words didn’t seem to be directed at you, but his glare made it feel like they were. “It’s not your fucking fault all those pussies have so many fucking secrets.”

You give him a passive shrug. “Doesn’t matter. It’s still against their will.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” he mutters. “For fucks sake.”

You tilt your head at him, unable to place where his disbelief and frustration was coming from, even more unsure who was facing the brunt end of it. “I mean, it can’t be that insane that people don’t like it. It’s not like you’d want someone poking around inside your feelings.”

“Sunshine, of all the things to care about, that is one of the most fucking stupid things I’ve ever fucking heard. No, I don’t care about you ‘poking around inside my feelings’, because I’m not a fucking pussy with something to hide.” He gives you another odd look, accompanied by a pause before he spoke again. “Is that where your name comes from?”

“My, my name?” You feel yourself pale, still trying to fully grasp his previous declaration.

He watches you through narrowed eyes. “Your supe name. The Anomaly.”

Your blood might have evaporated, a petrifying cold running through you. “Don’t call me that.”

“I heard MM and the French Prick using it.” He looked slightly thrown by your response, but didn’t stop pushing. “Is it a fucking secret?”

“No,” you answer, trying to keep your voice level, your words acquiring a rambling quality. “It’s completely accurate. I couldn’t think of better one if I tried. Having fou-“ you cut off your slip. “Three completely unique powers on top of the usual supe-sauce is… anomalous. But I fucking hate it. I- I really hate it.” You trailed off, rubbing your arms uneasily.

“Why? It’s just a fucking name.” His voice was casual, almost bored, but he’d leaned forward with feet firmly on the ground, waiting for your answer with an impatient frown.

You’d frozen though, as white walls and straps, cold needles and cuts, and expressionless, masked people above you flashed in your head. Ghosts of fear the first time, devastation the second, emptiness the third, and fury the fourth echoed through your body. Moments of violating change and feelings of uncontrollable, off-balance infestation in your body that would haunt you for the rest of your life. You turned to Soldier Boy, who was still watching with a deep crease in his brow as the TV show played in white noise, and forced words from your chest, to your throat, and out of your mouth.

“If the Russians gave you a name, would you want people to use it?” You said carefully, and watched his first clench at your question, the bowl almost cracking under his grip.

He kept your gaze as he responded, a cool, rough brutality in his words. “I would fucking kill the pussy who was stupid enough to mention it.” You give him a pointed look, and watch the understanding slowly fall into place in his head. All that left him was a grunt, and he turned his body and focused back on the TV, the conversation abruptly over.

The afternoon slipped into evening, the evening into night, and hardly any more words were exchanged. You said good night as you stood to retreat to your room, and he gave a muttered acknowledgment in response. Your sleep was poor but long, and when you walked out into the hall the following morning, you found Soldier Boy standing right outside your door. His arms were crossed, one hand holding the TV remote, and he spoke the moment he saw you.

“Where the fuck is the rest of it?” His intense, demanding tone was far too firm for how early it was.

You gave him a droopy blink, noticing the same shirt and jeans from the day before. “Did you go to bed at all?”

“No. Where is it?” You try to move past him, but he moves to block your path. “Where?”

You rubbed your face, trying to squeeze out the lingering and puffy sleep. “I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“The show,” he spoke as if it were obvious, continuing to glower down at you as he waved the remote in your face. “You left, and then it was suddenly over and some weird fucking shit started playing. Fix it.”

You squint at him. “That show was canceled in, like, 2018. There isn’t any more.”

His expression was remarkably distressed. “Why the fuck would they do that?!”

“Netflix isn’t great at understanding popular demand,” you rub your eyes again as the dry of your mouth starts to fade. “But there’s like, an insane amount of shows out there. We can find something else.”

“Nothing else is good,” he grumbled. “All that played after was some stupid dating show. I had to watch a group of fucking idiots sit in rooms and whine about love all night.”

“You had to?” You roll your eyes with a snort. “What, did Butcher arrive with a gas mask and threaten to knock you out if you didn’t? If it’s so painful for you, just change it, or turn it off.”

He glares at your mockery, rubbing his neck as he mutters, “I don’t know how.”

"Huh?" His words had passed right through your ears as you tried and failed to keep your slugglish attention from drifting.

"I don't fucking know how," he practically barked, his face red as he refused to look at you. "It's my fucking fault technology is so fucking stupid now."

“Oh,” You feel a small amount of guilt as you realize that his scowl is one of embarrassment, his annoyed tone most likely rooted in frustration. “Wait, how have you been using it for two weeks?”

“I’d just hit buttons until something happened. It worked fine until you started that stupid Netflix shit.”

With a deep breath and sigh, you extend your hand for the remote. When he doesn’t move, you grab it from him with a tug and duck around him. “Follow me.”

Soldier Boy trails after you as you descend the stairs, stopping at your side as you reach the TV. You raise your arm to turn it off, but glance at his still-scrunched face, his bothered expression, and hand the remote back to him instead.

He stares down at his hands before looking back at the TV, then to you, his scowl only more confused. “Nothing fucking happened.”

“You’re going to do it.” You explain, pointing from the remote to the illuminated screen. “I’ll walk you through it, but you’re going to do it yourself.” “Fuck no,” he tries to return the remote to you. “You do it.”

You hold your hands behind your back. “If you want to live any sort of life in the 21st century after this, you’re going to want to know how to use a TV.”

“I can use a fucking TV.”

“Yeah,” you snort. “A shitty, twenty-year-old motel TV. Unless you want us to put you in a memory unit, gramps, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

“Bitch,” he grunts, but he stops trying to pawn off the remote.

“Cunt.”

His knuckles are white around the remote as he gives you an impatient, expectant look.

“Raise your hand like this, with that side,” you tap the head of the remote. “Facing the TV.”

He mimics your movements, and you give a nod of approval.

“Good, now hit that button.” When he doesn’t, you grab his finger and adjust to sit where you had pointed. “Ok, now that one.”

“Why are all these fucking buttons hidden and not labeled. Buttons used to be fucking labeled.”

You shrug. “For most people it’s intuitive, I guess.” You point to another button. “Now hit that one, and I’ll teach you how to search.”

This continues for another painstakingly drawn-out ten minutes. Once you’re absolutely sure he can passably navigate, raise and lower volume, and turn off the TV altogether, you step back.

“That’s it,” you offer him a grin. “Easy as breathing.”

He makes a grumbling, incoherent sound, dropping back on the couch. After a moment of staring at the menu on the screen, he looks up at you from his seat with an irritable frown. “You just going to fucking stand there?”

You blink at him, catch that his curt words are meant to be an offer, and move around the couch and to take the same spot you occupied yesterday. He offers you the remote back, and when you don’t take it he throws it onto your lap.

You give him a tired sigh. “The whole point of this-“

“I’ve never seen any of this shit. You said you’d find something else I’d like, Sunshine. Prove it.”

You raise your brows, but your protests die on your tongue, and you start scrolling through the display.

“I’m not that fucking old,” he grunts over your focus.

“What?” Half your attention still on the TV, you watch him shift forward in your periphery.

“I’m not that fucking old,” he repeats. “I’m not your fucking gramps.”

You glance at him, a hum of amusement leaving you. “You’re over a hundred. It’s not like you’re forty and I’m calling you ancient. Besides,” you give yourself a small smile. “Hughie told me about your little trysts with mature women. Mature woman, forty years your junior.” You stick out your tongue at him. “Cradle robber.”

“I don’t discriminate.” He says, leaning back to lounge on the couch. “And it’s not robbing the cradle if there’s no one that’s-“ he cuts himself off as he almost slips and admits your point. He gives you a glower, daring you to say something. “I’m not old.”

“Someone’s sensitive,” you mumble with a small, genuine smile, and before he can jab back, you hit play on a comedy special, turn the volume to max, and recline into the cushions.

The next set of days pass in similar fashion, and though Soldier Boy doesn’t stop grumbling insults and annoyances, picking small fights, or calling you a bitch, your childish psychological warfare has come to a halt, there’s no more throwing of chairs or explosions, and the word “bitch” off his tongue lacks the malice it did before. You quickly discover that Soldier Boy is a lot more like a toddler than anyone could have possibly guessed. You start leaving out snacks of cheese and fruit on the counter and rarely return to find it still in its spot. If you sit with him, he’ll stay shockingly still, but will make little snipes at the television. Sometimes you catch him after a comment, watching to see if you’re entertained by his words, and learn that even a vaguely amused smile makes him take on an overtly smug grin himself. At one point you start writing down a list of his less than progressive phrases, labeling it “Soldier Boy Racist Grampa Highlights," until he catches you, grabbing the list from next to you when he notices his name.

“The fucks this?” He’d asked as he scanned the page.

“I got bored,” you shrugged, and he rolled his eyes.

“This one’s not even that bad,” he pointed to a more recent addition, and you leaned over to read it.

“You called Hughie a cocksucking queer piss-boy. He’s not even here to defend himself.”

“So?”

You just gave him a flat look and returned your attention to the book you’d been skimming. You noticed him pocket the list, though, and over the next few days he started to pull it out whenever the apparently vital urge to insult someone showed its face. While the vulgarity didn’t decrease, the use of language you could only describe as tasteless and bigoted, did. Hughie even received a demotion to a “cocksucking pussy.”

He still rarely slept, instead locking himself in his room late at night and only emerging once you wake up. Once you pass his room on a 3am trip to the bathroom, walking in soft, toed steps to avoid disturbing him, only for the light leaking under his door to flood the hallway as he opens it.

“It’s not morning,” he watches you, leaning against his doorframe. “You should be asleep.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” is what you try to say. But between your clouded brain, restless need for the bathroom, and energy-drained body, what comes out is a string of sounds in a whiny tone.

“What was that?” His voice is taunting, but lacks any real edge.

“Cunt.” You mumble, trying to look at least a little menacing and, based off of what you think is a grin on Soldier Boy’s face, not succeeding.

“Bitch. You know, if you’re not tired, I’d be willing to help get you there.” He’s probably giving you a cocky, suggestive eyebrow wriggle, but between the sleepy squint of your eyes and light casting him in a silhouette, you really can’t tell. When you just make another mumble in response, he chuckles “Go back to bed, Sunshine, you’re going to collapse.”

“Nu-uh,” is all you can manage, and start to shuffle down the hall once more. When you emerge from the bathroom, your vision filled with spots after trying to turn on the lights only to be blinded, his door is closed once more, and you return to your room, collapsing back into useless, terror-fraught sleep.

When you walk into the kitchen that morning, the coffee pot is full.

———-

“What’s the third?”

You look up from your trudge through a CIA-provided, untranslated copy of Beowulf to find Soldier Boy staring at you from the door of your room.

“Third what?”

Taking that as an invitation, he stepped fully through the door to stand at the edge of your bed. “Third power. You’ve got your fireworks and feelings shit, what the fuck’s the third?”

You mark your page and meet his insistent face. “I told you that what, like ten days ago? Did you only now think to ask?”

“Nine days,” he says with an eye roll. “Don’t be fucking dramatic. And you got all pissy about your supe name. Not my fault I tried to respect your stupid fucking woman emotions and dropped it.”

You laugh. “First off, add ‘woman emotions’ to the list. And you totally forgot. I can see right through you, you just didn’t want me to make more old man jokes.”

“You’re fucking doing it anyway." He mutters, taking out the crumpled paper and a pencil from his pocket, using the wall to scratch the addition. “Would’ve been a stupid fucking plan, and I’m not a sensitive pussy who cares about jokes.” He shoves the list back into his jeans, and gives you a scowl as your grin spreads further across your face.

“Literally two days ago you threw a tantrum because I asked you what dinosaurs were your friends.”

“Are you going to answer my fucking question?”

“Fine, you baby,” you snort. “I can heal people by touching them. Technically, I transfer their injuries onto me, and then I heal so quickly it doesn’t matter. That’s mostly what I was doing for the Boys before this.”

“You were playing nurse?” He frowned. “When you can withstand a nuclear blast and are a fucking human molotov? That’s fucking stupid.”

“In case you didn’t notice, I don’t really have any control over the fire. And I wasn’t just ‘playing nurse’, I helped with missions in other ways.”

“Really?” His tone was sarcastic as he gave you a doubtful look. “What, you were a human shield too?”

“Well, yeah.” You mutter sheepishly. “But it was helpful."

“Sure, Sunshine. They must be torn up without you.”

You give him a scowl. “You know, I’m not going to tell you stuff if you’re going to be a fucking dick about it.”

He blinks, mouth curving down. “I was fucking joking.”

“Wasn’t funny,” you shrug, opening up your book. “Get out of my room.”

He doesn’t move. “Why are you being a fucking bitch again?”

You sigh, staring blankly at the pages. You’d admit, even from inside your own head, your anger had blossomed quite suddenly. But his accusations of your team being absolutely unaffected by your absence stabbed you somewhere in your chest, fueling that voice in the back of your head. It was getting louder, reminding you of all that damage in your wake—how your team walked on eggshells when they spoke to you and flinched when you touched them. “Human shield” was the best description of your place within the group. “Nurse” was too generous a term for a person they let touch and heal them only if the hospital was too far away and it couldn’t wait. On rare occasions you’d convince them to forgo their protests and just let you fix their wounds, but it took promises and pleas from you and exhausted caving from them. You look back up at Soldier Boy, who has remained in his place, eyes boring into you as you’d calmed yourself.

“I don’t like being useless.” You say softly. You know the admission could return to bite you in the ass should the peace you and Soldier Boy maintained the past week crumble, but he’d surprised you once. Maybe he’d do it again. “I don’t need you to remind me that I am.”

You watch his reaction, frown growing but fuming annoyance fading. His eyes were overtaken by a surly look you couldn’t figure out. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard.”

Your jaw drops, and that thing under your skin starts to claw against your skull. “Get out.” When he doesn’t move, your voice raises. “Get out!”

“Would you just-“

“Out!” You’re at a full scream now, chucking Beowulf at him. “Get the fuck out!”

“Just fucking listen to me!” He’d stumbled back as the book hit, most likely out of shock more than anything else, but remained in your room. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice smoke starting to curl around you, but you’re too angry to try to calm it. He must notice it as well, because his face pinches slightly, no longer trying to move back to you. “I wasn’t done-“

“What, you got more stupid, cruel shit to say? About how I’m not just useless, I’m a stupid fucking bitch? A useless whore who can’t even cook? An uptight fucking prude?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, woman, for once in your life, shut the fuck up!” He’s yelling too now, and suddenly you can’t move. It’s not like he’s never raised his voice before, having frequent appearances in your previous daily shouting matches, but this is different. This seeps through the air into your blood and head, shutting everything in you down until all that’s left is fear. Breathing is hard, your heart can’t seem to keep up with your lungs, and your anger is quickly turning into a light-headed, frantic need to go, go, go and hide, or to start clawing and clawing at whatever comes close until this feeling leaves. All of a sudden he’s right there, he’s in front of you and grabbing your arms, shaking you and saying something you can’t hear. Slowly, the tightness around you starts changing, becoming something solid, something firm. You’re annoyed and frustrated, but under it rests an urge to cover your hands in blood over something. Your fragile terror is washed over by a vigilant alarm, and everything suddenly feels sharper. As you emerge from your own brain, you notice Soldier Boy still there, his face level with yours.

“You’re fine.” It’s not a question. He’s telling you, and suddenly you realize that you are. And as you nod, you feel the distress in you fade into something like relief. Your head drops, and you tense once more as your eyes see his hands on your biceps.

“Um,” you look between his grip on your body and his face, drawn with a confusion you can feel in yourself. You gesture your head back down, his own attention following yours, and he lets out a grunt when he sees what you’re glancing at, dropping himself from you.

He draws himself up and turns, and part of you thinks he’s going to walk out the door and leave the rest of your fight for the morning. But he stops when he opens the door, and speaks without turning.

“You’re not useless. That’s what I was trying to fucking tell you. You’re certainly worth more than any of those preachy hypocrites.” Before you can ever open your mouth, he’s gone, slamming the door behind him.

You don’t sleep that night, laying in bed with the sheets feeling too warm and itchy, your thrashing only just slower than your restless thoughts. You stare and stare at the ceiling, trying to comb through the conversation and pick apart every second so you’d know just what to say when the dawn broke. You wanted to, needed to, make sure things didn’t go back to the way they’d been before. That had been exhausting, every part of your waking moments wondering who would blow up first, listing out hypotheticals to ensure that you would win any fight he offered you. You’d take the blame, a scratch in the back of your head told you it was yours anyway, to keep this truce. As the night moves, time becomes uncertain, hours, minutes, and seconds all feeling the same. Your dread turns to shame, to doubt, to a hot, righteous anger.

This won’t wait for morning, you decide. He doesn’t get to do this, make you sink down like this. It might have been your fault, but he doesn’t get to make you sit in it. You’re going to fix this or blow it up, and you’re going to do it now.

He must be up. He’s always up. You’d seen him “sleep” twice, both times in a frighteningly controlled manner, waking himself up the moment his breathing became soft. He’s certainly up, the light in his room is escaping into the hall, and you can hear him shuffling around, but, still, you knock on his door. When it doesn’t open, you knock again, then once more after another minute of inaction.

After the fifth knock, your patience a thin thread, you shout. “I know you’re in there, Soldier Boy! The light’s on, and I can fucking hear you! We need to talk!” The sounds pick up, but still the door is shut. “Let me fucking in, you ass!”

Nothing.

The thread snaps, and you push open the door. The harsh of the light blinds you for only a second, and when your eyes adjust, you're met with the sight of Soldier Boy, asleep, with his face in crumpled in a pained grimace. Sheet askew across the bed as he grunts unintelligibly, his body looks braced against something you can’t see. You’re frozen in your place near the door, agitation forgotten. You want to wake him up, because you know far better than anyone how real these things can seem, how the pain being your head doesn’t stop the echo of it in your body. You want to leave and never speak of this again, because there’s no way he receive you seeing him like this well. But what makes you decision for you, springing you from your rooted place, is the light in his chest starting to brighten as the room starts to hum.

It’s more instinct than anything—you know that the safe house and everything in it has been built to withstand this very thing, but that knowledge doesn’t stop you—as you run to the bed and shake Soldier Boy by his shoulders. When your skin meets his a rush of fear, pure and unbridled fear as strong as it had been from you hours ago, overtakes you. Fear and anger. You don’t think you ever felt this bloodthirsty, savage anger in you before. Your anger had always been cold and zealous, calculating tributes for your sorrow. This anger didn’t care. Somebody just had to hurt, and hopefully that someone would break.

If it’d been any other circumstance, you’d have been terrified by it. But you’re not, focused entirely on waking Soldier Boy up. Later, when several hours were between you and this moment, you’d deal with this. Maybe you’d even acknowledge how, despite the distance, you still may not be afraid of it. But now, with the light only growing, you let his feelings wash through you, and you do something drastic.

You pull back and slap Soldier Boy in the face.

He roars, eyes shooting open and glazed with a feral haze, his body jerking upright and grabbing you by the throat. Even as it happens, hindsight tells you that there probably were other ways to wake him up, but this was the stupid path you’d taken, and you unfortunately could not go back.

Before your vision could grow spotty, before your own fear and images of a flickering light above you could overtake your head, he let go with another shout. You scrambled back, realizing the fever in you had crept out of your spine, trading bruises on your neck for burns on his hands.

You watch him slowly regain control, his face dropping into exhaustion and his eyes searching the room—for what exactly, you’re not sure—and finding you.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” The words are low and rough, and though they don’t sound like a question, you answer him anyway.

“I- I just wanted to talk, and you weren’t answering the door…” You trail off lamely, your words sounding hollow even to you.

He doesn’t yell at your though, or push you out. He just stares at you, as if you’re meant to continue, to try and justify your presence. But you just stare back, unsure if you want him to kick you out, talk to you, or just pass out and forget the whole thing.

Instead of those options, leaving you at yet another loss, he sits back and scoots over to the far side of the mattress. When you don’t react besides another prolonged stare, he gives a half-hearted eye roll and pats the space next to him. Slowly, slightly fearful of misunderstanding his gesture, you walk over and drop on the bed at his side.

He’s looking ahead, unreadable from only his side profile, when he speaks.

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

You don’t stop watching him as you respond. “Does that happen every time?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

You don’t have anything else to say—any reassurance you can think of sounding stupid even in your head. So you wait, still watching him, and sit in the silence.

“Do you not have any?” His voice is strangely soft, though no tension has left his body.

You give a small sigh. “I do. But I’m good at hiding them. Stuff like that,” you wave a hand to his chest. “Only happens on bad days.”

“Bad days?” You can see his frown forming as his lips turn down, his voice growing deeper.

“On a few missions, I saw Homelander,” you whisper, now staring ahead yourself. “From afar. Really afar. I know he didn’t ever even see me, because I’m not back… there, but whenever I see him, apparently it’s enough.” You turn back to Soldier Boy, and are met with him watching you.

“Is that what yours are about?”

You give a small nod. “Different things happen, but it’s always him. Always there.”

“Hm,” his eyes don’t leave you as he speaks. “How do you stop them?”

You don’t have to ask what he means. “I don’t stop them, I just keep them in here.” You tap your head. “And I think of before. About how it was.”

“That helps?”

“As long as I don’t let myself remember that it will never be like that again.” You can’t hide the pain the words give you.

“What was it like?”

“Before? It’s was normal,” you shrug. “Boring.”

He tilts his head at you. “Normal?”

“Normal,” you repeat, watching his face as you speak.

He frowns, and looks away. You notice him swallow heavily, glaring at the wall. “Like,” he swallows again. “Like what?”

“Well, I had parents. Siblings. I had friends, I worked, I went to school-“

“School?” He turns back to you. “You're an adult, did they make school fucking longer?”

You feel a small smile quirk your lip. “No, I was doing a postgraduate. I’d actually just finished. Technically, I’m a doctor.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“Of Anthropology, yeah. I know less about human medicine than WebMD.” You pause. "That’s like, a website that’s famous for giving bad medical advice. I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“And you think you know less than it?”

“Oh, I know I know less than it.”

He snorted, returning to watch the wall. “That’s fuckin ironic.”

You nod in amusement. “Yep.”

When you don’t continue, he looks back once more. “What else?”

“I lived alone. Small, shitty studio on the Upper West Side. I visited my dad in Boston once a month-“

“Just your dad?”

“Yeah, my mom wasn’t dead, she’s just a bitch.” You hear Soldier Boy cough what might have been a laugh, but you ignore it. “She and my dad divorced when I was like, ten. They had joint custody, but I stopped talking to her when I was fifteen.”

“Harsh,” he mutters. “What, she ground you one too many times?”

You decided that holding back about thing like this was a need long gone. “She tried to send me to a medical boarding school in the Berkshires.”

“What the fuck is a ‘medical boarding school’”

“Like a psych ward where they teach you math.”

“Huh,” he raises his brows at you. “You need one?”

You shake your head. “Nah, I already knew math.”

He stares at you blankly, a smile having crept onto your face. “You’re… making a joke.” He said slowly.

“Yep,” you nudge his shoulder with your own. “That’s what a good one sounds like.”

He lets out a low laugh. “That wasn’t that fucking good.”

“You laughed.”

“You can’t fucking prove it.”

You’re grinning fully now. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, gramps.”

He rolls his eyes. “So your mom’s a bitch, you lived alone, and you can’t even cook. That’s just fucking sad.”

“New York is famous for its food,” you mutter. “And I can heat stuff up, as you very well know.”

“You can’t coast on box macaroni forever, Sunshine.”

“Been working fine for both of us so far.”

He gives you an amused look. “You’re not trying to seduce me.”

“What the fuck does that have to do-“

“You don’t have to impress me,” he continues, unfazed. “Your cooking doesn’t matter. What’d you do when you were hungry for dick?”

You stare at him. “You’re unbelievable.” He only returns your glare with a cocky grin.

“You haven’t seen nothing yet, Sunshine.” He winks, and you roll your eyes.

“Men aren’t big pussies about that stuff anymore,” you smile as his face drops at your claim. “And I never spent a lot of time being ‘hungry for dick’, anyways.”

“What, you have a loyal boyfriend?” he taunts.

“Nope,” you give him a grin. “But I had a sweet old lady in the apartment across the hall who brought me food every weekend. You’d have liked her, she was just your type.”

He grunts, but not with annoyance. “All I hear is no boyfriend, no friends, and can’t cook. Like I said, just fucking sad.”

“I had friends!” You protest. “We’d do karaoke every Friday!”

“You can sing?”

“Nobody who does karaoke can sing,” you dodge with ease. “But we had fun.”

He lets out a labored breath, and when he turns to you this time, you notice how bloodshot his eyes are.

“Would you go back?” He asked. He was watching you so carefully, and you once again are left confused by the look in his eyes.

“I don’t think I could.” You answer, your voice sounding far away, a memory of a gravestone flashing in your head. “I don’t think it would be fair to them.”

“Fair to them?” He gives a doubtful huff. “That’s fucking stupid.”

“Really?” You challenge. “I don’t think it’s stupid to not want to pull the people you love into this shitshow. I got a chance to keep them out of this life. Most people aren’t that lucky.”

Soldier Boy only shrugs. “Bad things will still fucking happen to them.”

“Bad things happen to everyone.” Your words are firm. “I’m making sure they don’t fucking die.”

“Well,” he turns back to the wall. “Aren’t they fucking lucky they have you.”

You know his words are meant to be cold and sarcastic, his face has even dropped into a scowl. But there was no sharpness behind them, and the rest of his face just looks… so tired. You hate it, it’s leaking into you and you’re not even touching him. You really, really want it to stop. So, you say the only thing that you can think of.

“Nobody taught me,” you say softly.

“What?” His red eyes give you a confused glance.

“I can’t cook because nobody taught me how. My mom didn’t care to, I don’t think it ever occurred to my dad, and eventually everyone just assumed that I could and I didn’t want to correct them. I turned into some sort of rage against the patriarchy shit in my head, but it’s a just life skill that I can’t do because nobody wanted to teach me.” You give him a sad smile. “I don’t think they felt as lucky to have me as you think.”

“So why’re you protecting them?” He asks, a puzzled frown on his face. “If those pussies didn’t fucking care about you, then they don't fucking deserve it.”

You shrug. “I know. But I’m going to keep doing it anyway.”

His eyes on yours have that look of dissection again, but it’s no longer violating, only prying carefully. You’re not sure how long passes before he speaks.

“It’s late,” he mutters. “You should sleep.”

You hesitate, but nod and stand. You move to the door, glancing back to see his still watching, alone on the bed. From here, he somehow looks more tired, the light making the circles around his eyes more prominent and the color on his face more washed out. You think it’s the most human you’ve ever seen him.

“Good night, Soldier Boy,” you say gently, and turn to leave.

You almost don’t hear his response.

“You don’t have to call me Soldier Boy,” the words are said under his breath, and when you turn, he has a soft frown. “Ben’s fine.”

You blink, and a small, unforced smile crosses your face. “I’ll see you in the morning, Ben.”

[fallatyourfeet]

Empty Promises (Tommy X Wife Reader) One-shot

Summary: Tommy can be a cruel man sometimes, but YN still loves him.

Word count: 746

Warnings: Nothing really.

A/N: This is my first fic in a long long time. It's short but hopefully sweet.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

“Tommy, you promised”. Standing at the empty desk of his Arrow House study, you held the telephone receiver to your ear staring at your reflection in the window. It was so dark outside that the pane of glass worked perfectly as a mirror. You looked good. Really good. Beautiful even. Exhaling silently, your eyes dropped to the rug beneath your favourite pair of heels. It felt like forever since you had a reason to put on a beautiful dress and powder your nose. And after countless empty promises from Tommy to get home early and take you out, you thought that tonight he was finally going to come through. No less than an hour ago he called to say he was a minute from leaving the office, and now… well, he was still in that very same office telling you that something had come up and not to expect him home before midnight.

The familiar click of Tommy’s tongue travelled down the telephone line to your ear, “I’m sorry YN, I need to close this deal tonight. It shouldn’t be taking this long… but there was a problem with the contract… it’s getting amended right now.”

Frustrated, you shook your head as if he was standing right in front of you, sure he could hear the shortness in your voice, but you were unable to bite your tongue. “Jees Tommy, I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go… Why couldn’t you let me know an hour ago?” Giving him no chance to reply, you huffed, throwing a hand in the direction of the sitting room, “And what about Polly… she’s already here to mind the kids.”

Clearing his throat, you could swear Tommy’s voice just broke a little. Was he amused by your frustration? “Don’t worry about Polly, she’ll use any excuse to see the children… she won’t care.”

Letting slip an annoyed grumble, you sank into the chair beside you. Staring into the darkness outside your frustration began to fade as disappointment took hold, your grumble finishing with a defeated sigh, “I just wish… I wish… I don’t even know anymore… I miss you, Tommy. I just want you to myself… for one night.” That was the moment you noticed headlights turn in at the top of the driveway. Sitting upright, you focused on the car, but it wasn’t familiar. “Who’s that. Tommy, were you expecting anyone tonight?”

Tommy asked, “What about two nights, eh?”

Confused, you stood up and walked around the desk to the window, scrutinising the car as it made its way up the driveway, “What do you mean?... Are you expecting someone?”

“What about two nights,” Tommy repeated.

The car rolled to a stop out the front of the house, leaving you even more confused. It was a brand-new Rolls-Royce limousine, complete with its very own chauffeur. Suspicion crept upon your voice as you spoke, “What are you talking about, Tommy. What do you mean, two nights?”

A soft chuckle sounded from the other end of the telephone, his voice now clearly amused, “What I mean is, no business, no races, no horses… nothing. Just you and me for the whole weekend to do whatever the hell we want.”

You fell silent a moment, unsure what was happening. This was completely uncharted waters; Tommy had never done anything like this before. You could hardly string a sentence together, “What? Whatever do you… I don’t… What’s going on?”

Mumbling something about you being adorable when you're frustrated and confused, Tommy chuckled again, before elaborating. “See that man out the window, that’s George, your chauffeur. He’s going to collect a suitcase in the foyer that Polly has packed for you and bring you to me.” Giving you a moment to collect your thoughts, he waited before clearing his throat, “So why don’t you go upstairs and kiss the children goodnight for me and tell them we’ll be home in a couple of days.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t contain the joy in your voice, “You’re such an ass, Tommy. Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of torturing me like that?”

Tommy laughed audibly, “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you hurry up and get your own ass down here and you can punish me in any way you want.”

With a devilish voice, you sighed, “Oh Tommy, my love. Don’t you worry about that… I’ve got the whole car ride there to decide… and believe me, I already have a few ideas.”

[dwaekkicidal]

would love to request some changbin tummy worship with a side of nsfw 🙏🏼🙏🏼 this man is way too fine and i need to grab his tummy and tell him hes hot as fuck !!

THATS WHAT IM SAYING. not a want but a NEED to worship him and his tummy :( i might die without it.

Loved.

˚ʚChangbin x Gn!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.4k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gn reader, lots of body kisses, oral (m receiving), worshipping, no actual sex happens minus the oral but mentions of it ><

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: thoughts on the new post theme? :3

Continuation of Worship, but can be read separately.

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

After the night you first doted on Changbin in bed, you started to catch him staring at you more than usual. His normally brief, bashful glances at you throughout the day turned into prolonged and almost obsessed stares. And whenever you turned to meet his gaze, instead of turning away bashfully as he did before, he would double down and stare even harder at you with a small smile on his lips. Sometimes even doing a nose scrunch at you and pecking your lips. But he would do all this silently and would never elaborate when you asked about it.

Eventually, though, you caught on. It was hard not to! You had made it your goal to always praise and worship your boyfriend any chance you got, especially after the reaction you pulled from him the last time you did it. So you began to blatantly drop a “Wahhh… Binnie, my Baby, you look so good..” after his workouts or an “It sounds so good! ‘M so proud of you Binnie~” after he showed you a song he worked on. 

With all this, it was more than easy to catch on to the way he would flush red and sheepishly bite his lip. And if this would happen around one of the guys, he would look over at them with a shy grin on his face.

Even in the few times you two had sex after that you would slip in a few words of praise. Though, you never had the time to worship him like you had that first night. That was, until today after you got a text message from Chan.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the message, you knew some of the boys had caught on but part of you wondered just how much about it they got out of him.

In the meantime, you decided to keep yourself busy until he returned home. Right as you finish making the bed, you hear the front door open then close, and a muffled, “Jagiya! I’m hoooome!~”

You smile and throw your phone on the bed, quickly rising to your feet and walking towards the bedroom door. He opens it right as you take your third step and he drops his bag to the side. You watch as he jogs up to you with a big grin on his face before he wraps his arms around you, squeezing you into a tight bear hug.

He mumbles into your neck, “Fuck, I missed you.” and it makes you giggle. You hug him back, placing a kiss behind his ear and melting into his warm body. This embrace is held for a few minutes as you catch up on each other's days, he was only gone a few hours but he still wanted to tell you everything.

When he gets to the topic of the studio, you pull away slightly and rest your arms around his neck. “I heard you helped some of the boys today! You’re so good at what you do, Binnie~ The boys and I are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

He short circuits, not expecting the praise all of the sudden, but smiles and blushes before nodding. “Mm.. Thank you Bunny..”

“Since you’re home early and we have some free time until dinner time. Are you gonna let me take care of you like last time? I think after today you deserve it. No?” He blinks a few times but bites his lip and nods. You can see the way his pants get tighter at the simple thought of it and it pulls a chuckle from your lips.

You both fully undress and he takes a seat on the bed, blushing heavily from the way you kneel between his legs. “You’re so delectable, Binnie. You make it impossible to control myself.” He chuckles and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, “I feel the same about you, Bunny.”

“You're irresistible, baby. I just love everything about you.” You lean forward, rubbing your cheek against his thigh before pushing your lips against the skin. “I love your forehead.” kiss “I love your cheeks.” kiss “I love your shoulders, your arms.” kiss kiss.

A shaky breath leaves his mouth and you don’t miss the way his hips buck into the air. “Bunny..”

“I love your chest,” kiss “and your stomach. God, do I love your stomach, Binnie.” You pull away from his thigh and sit up further. Your hands then skim up and down his stomach, stopping at his waist and squeezing it lovingly when you lean forward. Starting from his chest and stopping at his abdomen, you press soft, eager kisses along his skin. The noisy smack sounds they create only makes his dick twitch against your chest.

A low whine leaves his throat from the lack of attention of his dick so you smile into his skin, nibbling on it teasingly before placing a final kiss on the same spot. You move back down to his neglected thigh, placing a kiss there before continuing. “Your tummy is so hot, Baby. I don’t think you understand how many laws I would be willing to break just to be able to kiss it all day.” kiss

That one pulls a breathy laugh out of him and you smile but continue. “And your dick is so pretty… Wish I could give you head every day.” He choked on his breath, not fully prepared to speak but pushes himself to do it anyway. “Anything for you, Bunny. Whatever you want, it's yours… Hell, I think I’d seriously walk around the house naked if you asked for it.”

Your eyebrow perks up at the thought, and you smirk up at him. THE Seo ‘I can’t handle compliments well’ Changbin who covers up his arms and his belly with big t-shirts just offered to walk around naked, for you. Now it’s your turn to whine. “That’s so hot, Binnie.”

Feeling even more motivated now you sink back on your knees. One of your hands wraps around the base of his dick, squeezing it before trailing kisses up and down the underside of it with small hums. You could feel his dick twitch with every other kiss, and once he finally lost patience he trailed a hand into your hair and tugged softly. 

“I'm sorry, Baby. I just want to worship every inch of you all day, every day. I would die happy if that were the case.” He chuckles and shakes his head, lightly scratching your scalp. You don’t hold back the smile that forms and look up at him. You hold this eye contact as you give one final kiss to his tip before sinking down.

“S-Shit! Babyy...” You look up and meet his shiny eyes, taking him even deeper into your mouth as you rake your nails up and down his thighs. His face contorts at a particularly intense suck and he sputters, almost choking on his own spit. He holds eye contact for a little longer before he’s overcome with pleasure and throws his head back, slowly rolling his hips up into your mouth. 

One of your hands grabs his on the mattress and you lace your fingers with his. He snaps his head down at the feeling, meeting your eyes again and then convulsing when you swallow around him as a reward. Your free hand moves from his thigh to his stomach, soothingly rubbing your thumb back and forth. He’s so riled up all so soon and he can feel his orgasm growing scarily fast.

“Bunny you’re gonna kill me haha- Ah~” He interrupts himself with a whiny moan, his eyes fluttering shut before forcing themselves back open. His chest begins to rise and fall aggressively and then high-pitched gasps and chants of “ah!”s fill the room. He rolls his hips up into your mouth and throws his head back. You close your eyes and begin to move your head faster, sucking and humming around him until he convulses and finishes with a cry.

You slowly pull off him once his hips sink fully back into the bed and place kisses on his thick thighs as he calms down. When his focus returns to you, you can tell immediately with the way his thighs try to snap closed under your lips. You pause your kisses to look up at him and you smile widely at the way his curls stick to his sweaty forehead, his eyes unfocused as they stare down at you.

In the corner of your eye you see his dick twitch to life again and before you know it he’s pulling you up to sit on his lap, pushing his lips against yours. He runs his hands down your body and smiles into your mouth at the way you seemingly melt into his touch.

“You always spoil me so well, Bunny. Let Binnie take care of you now, gonna fuck you good.”

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08 @grandma143