#it's amazing that this woman manages to do the TWO things that piss me off more

[janiedean]

I had the absolute displeasure of walking into a bookshop where they had both the translations from that one anglosaxon person of odyssey and iliad and I had the horrid idea of checking out page one of both and not counting that the complicated man from the odyssey is still absolutely indecent to even see on paper... I glanced at the iliad's opening and while I'd need to check more in depth to see if she made another glaring mistake at line two or if it's me remembering wrong how you take the og word.....

i am wholly not surprised that in the og text agamemnon is referred to as atreius' son and in every translation I read of that text ever he was referred to as such and ofc she just went and said agamemnon because ig everyone who picks that book up is too ignorant to know the backstory huh /s

[dev1lm4n]

favors

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader

summary: ghost is curious on how far he could push around the pliant private; the kinds of things he could ask for and all the perverted favors he could earn, including stuffing you full of your silly little pen.

warnings: nsfw! sorta power imbalance (ghost is a l.t and you're a private), ghost is mean :(, uses of whore, unprotected piv, inappropriate use of a pen, semi-public, doing it in an evidence room lol, terrible accent, getting caught

notes: reblogs n comments appreciated! i also do commissions for $10 / 1k words on cod/tlou/aot/haikyuu n many more. msg me :)

“So yer telling me,” Johnny paused, vulgar gargles of cheap booze echoed around the buzzing pub. He had to take a minute or two to relinquish the revolting burn that’s paving a path right down his trachea and into his junk of a stomach. 

Ghost shouldn’t even be having booze, more so the kind they serve in the dirtiest street of London (the one that’s definitely infested with rat droppings and a random fella’s piss), but here he was, advocating for his friend’s ideas. 

The masked man shrunk back against the booth’s shiny red seat. His hips jutted forward, beer comfortably propped up on his thigh. 

“This lass will literally do anything you ask for?"

Ghost sighed.

It took him a beat too long to answer Johnny’s inquiry. 

He’s getting impatient, rightfully so. Unless it’s playful jeering or stern commanding procedure, Ghost hasn’t exactly spoken a word that he’d deem interesting after the last mission. 

He’s just been quiet underneath the skull-face attire. Tired, perhaps. But Johnny truly feared that he’d finally end up as a shell of a person. A suit of skin, muscle, and bones. The lights are on but no one’s home kind of thing. 

Ghost shifted in his seat. He leaned forward tentatively, deep in thought Johnny suspected. His hulking mass of muscles further emphasized by the tacky shine of multicolored lights.

“Yeah.”

“Fuckin’ hell, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah?”

His eyebrows knitted underneath his balaclava.

“‘course. You got yourself a fan, L.T.”

A fan. A fan. A fan?

Ghost could laugh at the premise. 

At the thought that someone had the audacity to think of him as someone worth that kind of attention. He had never thought of it in that manner, couldn’t bring himself to at least, but it’s still as far-fetched now than it was the first time he considered it. It’s absurd. 

Ghost propped his elbows up on the bar’s table. A sticky substance - most likely some sort of spilled milkshake or a very sweet Cosmopolitan - instantly pooled his sleeves, but he had more important things to dwell on. The idea that you, a simple girl-next-door private that he met by accident, adores and devotes yourself to him to the point of no return. What kind of fuckery is that?

“‘m not someone to fan over, Johnny. You know that fair and square.”

“You have a point there, L.T.”

Johnny huffed out a pained chuckle. His stomach must’ve been sending neon red blaring signs to quit drinking and hurry back to his woman back home, but he’s a persistent man, even stubborn some might say. 

Ghost was still deep in thought. He even managed to abandon the cold beer he'd ordered a couple minutes back, the condensation making a very clear point as it dribbled down his gloved palm.

He’s trying to acquire every last bit of information he has of you. Every detail, every moment that might help him deduce this extremely serious problem. 

What did your hair look like? When’s the first time he noticed the repeating tendencies? It might not result in his ultimate death, sure, but it’d surely wound him insane. Why would someone even be a fan of a socially-resigned man?

Johnny cleared his throat. Ghost’s taking too long and he’s made that clear.

“Where d’you even meet the lass?”

“’m not sure…” he trailed off.

Johnny offered him an odd look, before another laugh erupted from his booze-scented cavern. 

Ghost looked away, but was pulled back in by the comfortable arm (way too comfortable if he had a say in it) slung across his shoulder. His caramel eyes came around to his partner’s, as if waiting for him to spare him a piece of his mind. 

“You’re one cruel man, sir.”

“‘m not. Just never thought of it,” he tried. “Didn’t have the time to.”

“Come on. Bet you could get something outta that thick skull of yours,” Johnny jeered.

“I think, well, ..think she’s part of that task force. Y’know, the one that was an extension of ours, in case things go to shite?” 

Johnny hummed. There was that one time, too long ago that he couldn’t even picture the faces clearly. They're more similar to blobs of beige and brown now, but he’d remember a lady if he came across one. “Oh yeah, yer right, there was one.”

“Had trouble mapping out the terrains so I asked the Captain,” Ghost continued on lightly, hoping Johnny could somehow connect the statement to where and how he’d meet the mysterious lady. 

“And so she came in handy,” Johnny cleverly added.

Ghost took a deep breath, the shape of his lips made a brief appearance through the thin fabric, frustration knitted in every inch of his appearance. “She’s smart, Johnny. Well, even that drunk man coulda been smarter than you,” he argued teasingly, but was quickly met with a brute hand down the back of his neck. 

“That’s fuckin’ mean, man,” Johnny cocked his head to the side defeatedly. “’m here tryna solve your love problems, but yer making fun of me.”

“Not ‘love’,” Ghost corrected. “But she’s so pliant, John. So.. obedient.” 

“And smart people aren’t obedient. Moreover, smart lasses.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Johnny took another swing of his foamy beer. A light trace of cheap booze made an appearance in the shape of a mustache right above his real bush. He looked like he’s truly using his head for a minute and it’s truly entertaining. Ghost would’ve chuckled, sneered, and made entertaining comments if it’s not for the fact that he’s equally as burdened. 

Come to think of it, you weren’t anything extraordinary. You weren’t a spectacular tank-shaped-human that’s won the recognition of every military general, neither were you superbly drop-dead gorgeous. You’re just this girl. 

This girl who didn’t have a blind adherence to his authority as a higher commanding officer; rather, you made it seem as if it was a conscious choice, a demonstration of your commitment to him. Your unassuming demeanor and lack of vanity blended right into the black-and-white nature of the military, but there was just something. 

Something particular that bothered him.

“What’d she do?”

“Asked her to gather intel from the last ten years,” he started. “Did it in two days.”

“That was well.. technically her job. Maybe she’s just terribly invested in it?” he offered.

“Asked her to get my boots washed-”

“Wait, what?”

“Boots. Washed. I had a sling on so I..”

“Don’t tell me she did it,” Johnny shrieked. “Your boots smell like horse shite.”

“She did.” Johnny looked at him in terror. His fucking jaw almost went unscrewed from the statement. “She’d switch schedules with me if things got out of hand. Oh, and she patched me up awhile back.”

“And you don’t know the lass’ name?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny,” he grunted uneasily. “No.”

“Jesus Christ. What’dya even say when she finished patching you up?” he threw his hand up. “Thank you, random gal who I vaguely remember for cleaning up my boots and doing a shit load of things for me.”

“Well…”

“She’s in love with you. Christ’s sake. The wedding bells are ringing in my ears.”

“Too much, Johnny.”

“No, no, hear me out,” he tugged on the male’s collar, for dramatic purposes only of course, a classic of Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish. “I bet she’d do anything for you.”

“You’re fuckin drunk.”

“Maybe. But she fuckin adores you,” he continued on. “Bet she’d suck your lil willy if you asked.”

“Now you’re outta line, Johnny,” he scoffed, deciding his pal’s spitting all but the truth, maybe the piss-colored concoction finally fried his brain cells off. “And it’s definitely not little.”

Amidst all the naturally occurring hellish nature of the military (including and not limited to bitter black coffees, deafening morning roll-calls, and pungent blood), there existed an unconventional sanctuary for you. A safe haven-- special and reserved only for you. 

It’s not nearly as lovely as what home felt, but it was still something. 

The old evidence room, filled with bricks on bricks of aged papers along with neatly labeled boxes cluttered with God knows what. Classified artifacts, flickering lights; nobody wants anything to do with such a room and if they did, it’d probably be a direct order from their cigarette-smoking ripped captain. Or so you’d imagine. 

You’re not even close to being that level of importance. You’re closer to being a coffee-bearing, mess of an intern, instead of those in the laps of the General.

You didn’t mind. Not one bit.

The admin work is far more aligned with your goals than holding a hand grenade could ever be.

After quite some time, drowning in your own mind, earning paper cuts with every flip, and sipping that God awful black coffee, you’ve managed to turn every inch of the four by six room into your own twisted version of a highschool data wall. 

You’d argue that it’s a lot more effective than trying to do it in your team’s pristine glass wall, but truly it’s just a silly reason. A silly reason not to be humiliated and undermined by fellow colleagues who think that they’re above and beyond. 

You stood up. Observed. Crouched (in hopes that there’d simply be a miracle, but alas, futile). Then repeated the regime like clock work for what seems like forever.

That was until an interruption came along. 

A glitch in your picture-perfect routine, and it terrified you like hell. 

You stood in full attention. A forty-five degree angle between your toes, hips and shoulders level, chest puffed, and limbs stiff. Between the moment in which the heavy metal door swung open with ease and when it finally came to your attention who the intruder was, you thought of all the ways you could rationalize the mess you’ve corrected. You’d imagine having a thirty second period - or less - where you’d have the chance to save your ass from running toilet duty all week. 

But what came was far worse.

It’s that man. That Lieutenant, if we’re being prissy.

The one you had a crazy, borderline psychotic crush on. 

The one you did back flips and handstands for. And you didn’t know if it’s the thick helmet that's strapped to his head, the heavy eye black he rocked daily, or the skull-patterned balaclava, but he’s utterly indifferent to the treatment.

Enough of that, you decided.

“At ease.”

Your shoulder slouched back to its acquired form and like always, you’d allow him to stare you down like you’re some sort of farm animal.

“Apologies, Lieutenant,” you drew back a breath. “For the mess that is. I.. wasn’t expecting anyone to come by.”

You attempted to meet his gaze. Keyword, attempted.

His stern gaze, brown eyes framed by a fading ghost of eye black, made it hard to breathe. The air seemed to thicken - wine into blood - as if acknowledging the unspoken, blurry lines of tension. 

You, acutely aware of the rising tautness, attempted to challenge him ferociously, but the weight of his stare proved almost tangible. And despite it being heavily inappropriate, your clit pulsed in a foreign rhythm and your nipples pebbled with desire underneath the pure wrap of your uniform.

“Not my business,” his response fell flat. It’s like he’s trying to have you embarrass yourself.

“What’s your business then?”

It sounded a little rude, so you managed to add on a slurred line of ifyoudon’tmindmeaskingthatis to sweeten the deal.

He looked stunned for a bit, but then his gait laxed and you took the bait. You took a sharp intake of air through the gaps of your top and bottom row of teeth. Cold air seeped through, as hostile as the rumbling storm outside. 

The single bulb flickered ominously - was the Lieutenant powerful enough to control electricity with his terribly distant gaze?  

‘Ghost’ was his callname. That’s the only thing you know of him, aside from the fact that he’s a prominent member of TF 141 and that he has a god awful habit of tossing his duties to you. The kind of duties that won’t earn him a star or two.

“Do you need me to deep soak your boots again?”

His lithe lashes swept over his eyes, but once more, no response. It’s like you’re speaking to a wall. A damn persistent one.

“Or run names?”

Something. Anything would be better than nothing.

“Nothing like that.”

“No?”

He shook his head.

He stuffed his hand down the pocket of his tactical trousers, shoulder hunched forward, before he took a step forward. His boots, lathered in mud from a far away land, crushed the papers you’ve laid neatly. 

Your eyebrows - disobeying each and every one of your neurons - twisted in disdain. 

That was your work. Your hard work.

The Lieutenant inched closer, an estimate of a full foot ahead of you, towering with such an incredulous look. You challenged him with a similar gaze. Emotions naked, unveiling beneath a thin line of shameless and daring. A line of sweat began to form on top of your upper lip, a betrayal to the T. 

“You think you’d let me fuck you?”

“What?”

“You think you’d-”

“I.. I heard you the first time, L.T. Just a little bewildered I s’pose.”

Not even the wildest beast of Manchester’s pub would query such an upfront question. 

You swore that your physical state had forgotten that there’s an entire raging snowstorm outside base, because all you could feel was warmth. 

Warmth pumped through every inch of skin under the neat fold of your collar and the tight cuff around your forearm. Warmth made your palms pool with dubious desire. It enveloped you whole, suffocated you in a headlock. 

At his approach, you staggered back. It was as if your knees gave out thoroughly. You are clearly not an easy slag, but he’s making you look like one.

“Would you?”

He questioned with such.. reverence?

The Lieutenant’s large pointer finger, equal to the size of a French baguette, swept beneath your chin. A tease. Not a threat. Perhaps more of an invite.

“You could say no,” he offered. “Nothing’s gonna happen if you say no, ‘course.”

The question ‘why’ was on the tip of your tongue, before you retracted it entirely. It didn’t matter why, at least, not to him. You’ve heard about the practice. The military is cruel. Brutal. Stinky men, blood and puss, tasteless MREs; people need a getaway car, even for just a bit. 

The real question was if you’d let him.

Would you let him fuck you?

You nodded.

You’re not even sure if that’s your good conscience speaking. It’s just.. you gravitate towards him like a love-blind teenage groupie.

The ghost of a smile, barely there but obvious enough it protruded out the smooth surface of his balaclava,  momentarily diverted you. 

He looked so good. Even with every inch of his skin covered in some sort of cloth, he looked devilishly good. 

Before you could react, his strong arms were quick to wrap around your waist, swiftly turning you around. Surprised, you found yourself pushed gently against the edge of the table. It rattled side to side from the sudden impact, a rhythm that coddled you back into reality. 

His cold fingertips held your wrist together. A makeshift cuff of some sort. You glanced over your shoulder, met instantaneously by the Lieutenant’s icy expression, tinged with a hint of deviance.

“Would you truly let me?” he asked once more.

You nodded.

He looked displeased. Something’s missing, but you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was bothering him. 

Ghost took another step forward. The faint presence of him crowded your backside. The tips of his fingers told a whole ‘nother story as it smoothed over your arm, mistakes and trauma from a faraway land. His warm breath flooded across the nape of your neck, controlled, yet imposing. You made an embarrassing noise when he tugged at your wrist, pulling you flush against his frontside. 

Way to go.

“Say it out loud, soldier,” he grunted. “Needa be sure.”

“Fuck me.”

Exasperation and determination, he consumed you whole like wildfire. 

You tried to weasel your way out of his grip, thinking it’d be smart to arch your back like a cat in heat to meet his crotch, but it’s no use. He’s as thick as concrete, not keen on meeting your demands. 

You whined. Desperate this time. 

He's tinkering on the edge of something big, something you know is going to be the best thing you agreed to. Ghost shushed you. A short click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth as his hands traveled along the circumference of your stomach. 

He made it an easy task to tick off those pesky, bothersome buttons. One by one. Every time making you wince in anticipation.

“Lieutenant!” you squealed aloud when he buried his head down the crook of your neck. The texture of his balaclava made your nerves jitter, rough yet the warmth his skin emitted set your own alight.

You gasped when he finally cupped your breasts. He kneaded the soft skin gently, the cold tips of his fingers twisting to pebble your nipples. From the back, you might've looked prim and proper. But from the front, your nipples stood out like the slanted tips of Everest. 

A stinging pleasure was quick to spread, especially down South, where your needy cunt gaped and squeezed tight around nothing. He's kind enough to leave the remnants of your uniform attached to your body. It's cold out and he was bright enough to know that this room was equipped with not even one heater. It's the higher-ups cutting costs like always.

“Why'd you let me fuck you, eh?” he whispered tauntingly. “You a whore?”

You shook your head no. Mind too frazzled to even get offended.

“Looks like a whore to me,” he chuckled slowly, only to bend you straight at the waist.

The side of your face came in contact with the cold surface in a loud thud. A protest tore out of your throat. 

He pawed at the belt buckle you're sporting, so impatient he might’ve torn the material in one go if it didn't unclasp right away. With a single pull, he had your tactical military-issued pants pooled pathetically around your ankle. 

It was quiet for a moment or two. You would've guessed that he was standing there, admiring your backside like some twisted connoisseur of some sort, or setting aside a list of what he would've liked to do. It's unbelievable that the five-minutes-ago-you agreed to something this bizarre. His large palms spread across the entirety of your ass, feeling up the smooth surface before a slap landed loud and clear.

“Ah!”

Something came into view on your right side, so you turned your head ever so slightly. And there it was. 

His thick fingers were wrapped around an item, the same one your mouth has been wrapped around so many times at frustrating moments. 

Your red pen, the same one that's ink has stained every inch of your fingers, was now offered in front of you. He wanted you to suck, you figured. You could've said no, sure, but there was a desire to fulfill his every wish, to be the good whore he's asking you to be. 

With much hesitation, you took the pen cautiously. It's not long before a good portion of it was lathered lewdly. And when he pulled the object away, a bead of saliva came attached with the warm end of your tongue.

“Look at you,” he cooed. “Couldn't even stand up for yourself, can you?”

“No.. puh- please.”

Ghost pulled you flush against his chest, so close that you felt the ridges of his uniform against your arched back. 

A possessive arm wrapped itself around your soft stomach. Your head was spinning-- his scent, musky and woody, had your mind twisting and bending in every manner possible. 

Finally, he spared you of all your suffering. The first nudge felt experimental. He rubbed the pen down your throbbing clit, running it up and down the sensitive bud. Then he slowly made his way further down in a voyage for your cunt. 

His calloused fingers paved the way down the slippery road. You found yourself bucking your hips against his warm hands, craving for just a touch. For more. Anything will do from that hulking figure of a man.

“God, just put it in already,” you grumbled, a notch above a whisper. Ghost didn’t like that one bit. He didn’t like your bratty tone and so, decided to punish you against it. 

The cold pen slipped into your wet cunt in one go. It might be thin, barely the size of a finger, but when you haven’t been fucked for ages, it felt incredibly intrusive. You’re almost sure your cunt had sealed itself back up after the long dry spell. 

Like a virgin, you let out a squeal. One that received a low, dry chuckle from the Lieutenant. 

He pulled it all out, pulling it up to your eye level, as if taunting you with how dripping wet the pen had become. It was lathered in your juices, thick and globby as it dripped down. You sucked on the end once more. This time unprompted, simply to show off how dirty you can also become.

This earned another one of his low grunts. Approval, you thought.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?” he whispered against your ear. Ghost guided the pen back to your entrance, letting it get sucked back by your needy cunt. He couldn’t watch, not with this position. But God did he want to. “Being all bratty won’t help, love.”

The squelching noise your cunt had made every time he thrust the pen back in was so.. dirty. Enough to also get him hot and bothered. 

You could feel him grow beneath you, feel it bulge against your lower half, though he didn’t seem to be making certain arrangements due to it. Ghost’s index finger and thumb moved rhythmically as it worked in tandem to touch all those sweet spots of yours. Undoubtedly, it’s working like a charm. 

Sweet nectars of his hard work started spilling out your cunt in thick translucent globs. It dribbled down your inner thigh, creating such a lewd display for Ghost to marvel. Teasingly, he thrusted upwards, hitting against those ridges deep in your cunt and making you lurch forward. Your nipples rippled in reaction, a twitching pleasure made you let out a needy moan.

“S-shit,” you cursed. Ghost continued to thrust the pen deeper, as deep as it could reach at least, and took it upon himself to twist and withdraw it every time you’ve gotten too loud with it. “Don’t-” you were interrupted once more. This time with the presence of his rough fingers, creating tight circles above your engorged clit. “Fuck!”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth on you, eh?” he whispered teasingly as he pressed clothed kisses against the nape of your neck. 

He was persistent in rubbing your clit, not changing the speed one bit even without you asking for it. It felt so nice. The way his textured fingers felt against your sensitive nub, the way he dragged your juices up your clit-- oh he’s driving you insane. 

Ghost angled his thrusts once more and with such expertise, he found that one cushy spot that made you tremble. Your knees felt weak and all you want is for him to fill you up properly. The cold pen rummaged against your insides and before you knew it, your walls had already started to flutter against the smooth plastic. “Small little cunt so desperate for me.”

“I- I can’t-” you gasped in between soft moans. “A-ah, ooh, I-” 

Ghost barked out a laugh at the way you can’t seem to finish any of your sentences. He was a sadist it seemed as he had no intentions of hearing you out. 

He drove the pen in harder, faster, determined to have you react more. To have you, the pretty little thing who’d run stupid errands for him, slather his fingers with your wetness. “Gonna cum on a pen, huh?” he teased, his voice tipping you over the edge. 

You guided your thighs forward, eager to have your clit caressed more. To have it stimulated by a masked Lieutenant you barely even know. 

“Sweet little thing..” he cooed as he watched you reach your high. “Drippin’ over a pen..”

“Cumming, I’m cumming!” you announced and he found it rather.. heart-warming in a way. 

You sounded so pliant, so dumb, and it’s what made blood rush instantly to his throbbing cock. You could feel him watching. 

His gleeful eyes ran over your convulsing body, the way your cunt clenched rhythmically against the office tool that’s lodged up into you. Ghost didn’t even get to pull out the pen before your cunt began spewing out what it’s been holding back. He’d just reprimand it with a few encouraging slap to your clit. 

The thin substance dribbled down the pen and onto his fingers, leaving a mess behind. A much-needed mess that is.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he cursed, holding your body upright as it seemed you had zero control over it.

The room felt warmer, much warmer that you couldn’t even feel a tinge of the cold air anymore; that everything else sounded like a ringing buzz and the only thing you could focus on was his rugged breath. 

It felt cathartic-- the moment, that is. Though, Ghost wasn’t one with plenty of time. 

Everything is timed when it comes to him, so he allowed you just a minute to breathe before he manhandled you back onto the table. He perched you up on top of crumpled papers, admiring the way your cunt pushed out the pen messily. Your favorite red pen clunked against the cold floor, leaving your aching cunt gaping with need. 

How truly pathetic it looked.

You looked at him with a stupid smile, as if he’s truly fucked your brains out. As if all you can think of was how his cock would force its way in, of how much thicker it’d be compared to the shabby pen.

“Ghost?” a timber voice crawled from the door. Before you could make your case, the door swung open confrontationally.

Though it terrified you, that you weren't upset by the fact that you’re caught. More so that you didn’t get to have your favorite Lieutenant’s seed drip from within you. Maybe.. maybe you were a whore like he’d suggested.

[welp-back-on-my-bs]

Their first week's in the past were quite chaotic and fast. Their health being quite poor didn't help them in that regard.

Sauske was adapting easily to life in the past. 'Figues. He loves this period...' Morgan sighed as they laied down in their bed, resting from the training Kenshin had put them through.

He had cut them up quire badly, "Be glad you aren't dead" is all he said before leaving them to rest and heal.

They were happy that they weren't ignored. Despite being born a woman, he treated them like one of his men.

Whenever they rested and healed, Yoshimoto helped them learn the language, and they both did different arts together. This also improved them surviving Kenshin's training.

Sauske even helped them with different things to help their poor health to be at least more tolerable to survive their time in the past.

While training against Kenshin, the arm of their outfit was cut to show a butterfly semicolon tatto. People stopped and started at it and them. Muttering about the possible crime that they had done.

"Awnser. Why do you have that mark?" Kenshin demanded from them.

"Where I'm from tattoos are seen as a form of art and expression on the behalf of the tattoo artist and the person."

Somw of the people muttered in shock and amazement, others still gave them dirty looks. That was okay, though. They already got those in any time period.

They were a freak, and they accepted that.

Then, Kenshin and Shengen met up to forge an alliance.

More new people was hard for Morgan, so they tried to stay in the background, helping Yoshimoto when they could or doing some setup with Sauske.

Shengen was the first to approach them. I mean, they were feminine and masculine and was able to survive Kenshin. It was all quite fascinating to him. So he needed to get to know them, and flirting wasn't a bad start.

Or so he thought.

"What did someone like Kenshin do to earn an angel like you?"

"Nearly die in the middle of a storm"

"Well, i hope the storm brewing in my heart for you c-"

A thud was heard, and Yukimura ran into the room where Shengen entered to see him punched square in the face, with a pissed off Morgan sitting there calmly and getting back to work.

Yukimura was shocked, unable to decide what what the best reaction laughter, reprimand Shengen, or reprimand this other person.

Shengen burst out laughing, so that just added to Yukis confusion.

"Ah- well- if you like the hunt-"

"I'm not interested in dateing someone like you. Do your business with Kenshin, not me." They quickly shrugged him off, and the two men left Morgan, dazed, and a little confused. So the duo went to the man of the hour for an explanation. Luckily for them, Kantesugu, Sauske, and Yoshimoto were also there.

"What happened to you, Shengen?" Kenshin looked at his new ally, confused that his nose was bleeding already.

"Morgan."

"Why would you flirt with them?"

"Because they are cute."

"Thats it. Really?"

"What? Does it have to be held against me?"

"Yes. I've managed to scare off those who have proposed to both them and Sauske. I'll have to kill you aswell."

"Haha, alright, I'm sorry- you seem to care about them. I'll apologize when I see them next, okay?-"

"Good."

The next time Shengen saw Morgan was when they were in the kitchens bakeing. He was a little surprised, but shrugged it off.

"Good Evening Morgan"

"Good Evening." They coldly replied as they continued to put together the sweets they were making.

"I should get this out first- I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable." He bowed in apology.

Morgan looked at him, then sighed "It's fine. You didn't realize, and I'm sorry I punched you." They awkwardly bowed aswell before going back to their baking.

"What are you makeing?"

"Wagashi, I haven't made these recipes before, I'm more familiar with Western ones. Can you try some to be sure that they are good?"

Shengen lit up like fireworks, "That sounds good to me. I'll prepare some tea to go with it."

Once Morgan finished shapeing the Wagashi, they gave it to Shengen to try. They looked nervoious but determined.

"Wow- that's actually really good- this is really your first try??"

"Uh- yeah- heh-" They smiled awkwardly, but proudly.

[chosen-hero-inari]

Whumptober Day 17: Shipwrecked

Abandon Ship

The storm is so powerful Kohane is sure it will blow her off the deck and out to sea. She shouldn’t be out of her cabin, what does she know about sailing a pirate ship through a storm, but she heard An screaming, and can’t just leave her to do nothing.

Minori felt the same, clearly, because she follows Kohane up from below deck and immediately runs over to Kiritani, the first mate, and helps grab onto one of the ropes before it snaps.

An is holding onto the steering wheel of the ship trying to keep it from capsizing against the waves.

“An!” Kohane yells, dodging flying ropes and debris to get to her. As she gets closer, she sees An’s right arm has gone limp and she’s trying to hold the steering wheel with her left.

“Get outta here, Princess!” An says. “I’ve got it!”

Another wave crashes into the ship, causing the wheel to slip from An’s grip, and Kohane quickly grabs it and tries to force it backwards with all her might.

An grabs the top and manages to right the ship.

“I-I want to help!” Kohane gasps, salty water filling her mouth the moment she says anything. “Let me!”

She locks eyes with An, who nods. “Alright, be my extra pair of hands, there’s an island not far from here, we’re gonna try and dock the ship there and wait out the storm.”

Kohane nods, helping An steer through the Vivid through the choppy waters, quickly becoming completely soaked.

“Uncle, I dunno what you’re so pissed at, but let! Us! Through!” An shouts. She gives Koghane a nod, and with one last giant shove, they get the ship through one last gigantic wave before practically crashing into the small dock of an island.

The ship is finally still, but the storm is still whipping around. 

“Ok, everyone off ship! We’re heading inside!” An shouts, and the rest of the crew clambers down over the sides of the ship, helping the injured as best as they can to get to the single large house on the island.

Minori runs over to Kohane, scoops her up, and jumps over the side of the ship. First Mate Kiritani helps An, and they all head to the house.

An knocks, and a woman with orange hair opens it. “An-chan!”

“Hey, Yoka-san,” An says. “Sorry for dropping in, but we needed someplace drier.”

“No need to apologize,” Yoka-san says, “come in.”

Kohane had been worried that the ship’s crew would be too much for the small living room, but they fit in fine.

Apparently, Yoka-san’s son, Arata, and his husband, Souma, had been members of The Vivid when An’s dad was captain, so they were more than happy to put them up for the duration of the storm.

“What’s got your Uncle in a twist today?” Arata asks as he helps reset An’s dislocated shoulder. 

“Oh who knows,” An says. “Maybe he’s just moody.”

“Your… uncle?” Kohane asks, taking a small sip of the tea Yoka-san brought.

“Ah, I guess you’ll find out soon,” An says. “But yeah, I’m a siren. We all call the God of the Seas ‘Uncle.’”

“A siren who runs her own pirate ship?” Minori asks.

“Is it odd?”

“No, more like amazing!” Minori says. “Haruka, are you a siren too?”

Kiritani laughs. “No, just a regular human pirate.”

“And you’re still the first mate? Cool!”

“Of course,” An says. “Haruka’s been my best friend since we were little, she was my only choice for first mate.”

“Yeah, what would you have done if I had taken that job as a court singer back home?”

“Well, I’d have to tell my dad why his ship was destroyed.”

“And, you two,” Souma asks. “Are you the newest members of the crew?”

Kohane shakes her head. “No, we’re travelers. An was willing to give us a ride to the nearest kingdom across the ocean, and from there we were going to travel by ourselves, see new things.”

“Oh, is that all you wanted to do?” An asks. “That’s a shame, because if you really want to see new things, you could join us. We sail all over, doing all kinds of jobs. Meet all kinds of people.”

Kohane’s eyes widen. “R-really? But I have no experience… I mean Minori and I were going to find someplace to settle down and open an inn…” Kohane looks to Minori, to be sure that accepting the offer wouldn’t mean consigning her to a life at sea she doesn’t want, but Minori’s staring at Kiritani with sparkling eyes.”

“Once the storm dies down, I’ll ask some of my cousins to help float us back to a proper port,” An says. “Then we can do repairs, take jobs, and if you’re interested, maybe you’ll stay with us?”

“Y-yes,” Kohane says. “I’d love that.” 

[melonthesprigatito]

Word Girl Villains Christmas Headcanons

Rhyme's favourite Christmas movies are Olive the Other Reindeer because there is a con man penguin in it and Elf because she thinks it's amusing that the secretary that appears in a few scenes sounds almost exactly like her, almost as though they're both voiced by the same person * cough* Amy Sedaris *cough*

All the villains prefer not to watch Home Alone because it doesn't even well for the burglars in that movie. They dread the day Word Girl watches it in case it gives her any ideas.

Tobey uses his giant robots to hang mistletoe in every place he can think of in the hopes he can catch Word Girl under one. Maybe THIS time he'll finally get a kiss. Hopefully. Tobey also tries to introduce the bad guys to mince pies, aka the Classic British Christmas Food™ but they're all either confused or disappointed that there's no actual meat in them. Tobey ends up being exasperated by the constant "So why's it called a MINCE pie if there's no mince in it???" questions.

The villains are low key worried that Tobey, Victoria and Eileen will end up on the naughty list because of their evil activities, so Leslie makes sure they have a few presents for them just in case.

Granny May knits ugly Christmas sweaters for everyone. Unless they want to spend Christmas tied up in a giant ball of yarn, they have to wear them. No exceptions. Ms Question is totally cool with this because she already wears a sweater that she stitched a question mark into as her villain outfit so she appreciates the thought and effort that went into making them.

Lady Redundant Woman is ABSOLUTELY one of those retail workers that hates Christmas because of the customers and the Christmas music playing on repeat at the copying store. Doesn't help that Dave loves the holidays and is EXTRA cheerful this time of year.

The Villains Society decide to enforce a ban on committing any real crimes for the duration of the holiday season, because they realised that they'd rather not spend Christmas or New Year's in a jail cell. So instead...

Dr Two Brains starts turning things into cheese... so he can donate it to food banks. Word Girl wonders how the heck he managed to give away cheese to other people without pissing off Squeaky, and he's like "Well, I ordered a new cheese ray from Evil Monthly Magazine and they sent me a ray for GOAT'S CHEESE ray, can you believe it?! And they wouldn't give me a refund! Might as well get my money's worth!"

Chuck breaks into the mall at night.... Because he wants to be first in line to visit the mall Santa, might as well get there early.

Ms Question hits several people with her confusion ray... but it turns out that them being stuck in a state where they're questioning what gifts they should get got other people actually helped them to make a decision once it wore off.

Mr Big hypnotises a crowd... to organise a bunny themed Christmas parade. When the people are unhypnotised, they're just more disappointed that they missed the parade because they weren't conscious during hypnosis.

Rhyme and Reason head to the park and Rhyme freezes the entire lake... and people have a blast skating on the new ice rink. The civilians are actually annoyed when Word Girl tries to apprehend her and she gets called a Scrooge.

Word Girl is flabbergasted because they're doing things that are technically illegal, but not necessarily EVIL. And people are a lot more forgiving of the "crimes" than they normally are this time of year so Word Girl just let's them off with a warning. Amazing Rope Guy somehow gets arrested anyway but they let him go because "Hey, it's Christmas"

The villains throw a huge Christmas party (funded by Mr Big), and they even invite Word Girl. They also include her in their Secret Santa. She gets a Pretty Princess figure from Leslie. Amazing Rope Guy gets a fucking Key to the City from Word Girl because it was last minute so she panicked and grabbed the first thing she could see in her hideout.

D.A Sally Botsford is surprised to find a Christmas card signed by all the villains in the mail.

To make a long story short about Rhyme and Reason's childhood for this next headcanon, Rhyme was abandoned by her parents in space, she crashed landed on Earth, grew up in an orphanage, was ostracized by her entire town because of her powers and was singled out/bullied by her orphanage caretaker.

At Christmas, Rhyme would always end up on the Naughty List. Not because she was bad, but because her caretaker would intercept the letter and send her a return letter saying that she was a bad girl and she would NEVER get on the nice list. Rhyme was always the only kid in the orphanage who didn't get any presents. But she never lost hope because she just knew that if she tried hard enough, she could be on the nice list next year, so she never stopped believing in Santa.

Meanwhile Reason's parents... Weren't very involved in his life. They gave him the bare minimum of attention so he basically was forced to mature early and learn to take care of himself. So Santa wasn't really a thing in their household because they couldn't be bothered.

Reason never believed in Santa but he never told any of the other kids in the town because he didn't want to ruin the magic for them. Every year Reason saw Rhyme be heartbroken on Christmas Day and it killed him inside because he wished he could just tell her that her orphanage caretaker was deliberately ruining Christmas but he didn't want to destroy her hopes and dreams by breaking the news to her and destroy her belief in Santa Claus.

So, on the last year before Rhyme was too old for Santa to visit, Reason took drastic measures. He spent months saving up his allowance to buy presents for Rhyme and on Christmas Eve, he broke into the orphanage and found Rhyme's stocking. He got rid of the coal and filled it with the presents he bought. On Christmas morning Rhyme came down the stairs to find her stocking filled with presents, and a new letter from "Santa" saying that she was always on the nice list, but her caretaker stole her presents and made it look like he gave her coal.

Rhyme later excitedly showed her presents to Reason and ranted about how she KNEW there was something fishy going on with the naughty list and she was so relieved that Santa finally managed to put a stop to the sabotage. It wasn't until well into their supervillain careers that Reason told her what REALLY happened that night.

[dragonmarquise]

Everyone keeps talking Abt all the crews and stuff, but like, I never see any content for futurism! Sure there wasn't a lot of stuff for them since they were like, a really small part of the plot, but it would still be awesome to see content for them!!!! So I come bearing a question, do you have hcs for futurism?

Ooo, I have a few for FUTURISM! Not as extensive as my stuff for Devil Theory and DOT EXE, but still. :>

(I know some people kinda debate writing it as FUTURISM vs. Futurism, I'm gonna personally keep all caps but I also understand most people probably don't care either way lol)

Also feel free to send in asks about the other crews/characters too! I might not have a lot for each character though. I also have a general list of LGBT+ headcanons for all the BRC characters, if that interests you! Granted, it's probably not as extensive as some other people's lists.

Anyways, gonna put this under a Read More, it won't get nearly as long as the other two headcanon sets, but it'll be long enough that I'll feel bad about posting this without one. ^^;

I like giving all the crew members themed names, and for FUTURISM I went with computer-related terms! Some of them more obscure than others. So for the members (besides DJ Cyber of course):

Jazz (Related to the Chorus/Jazz version of JavaOS)

Quantum (i.e. quantum computing)

Veronica (an old search engine)

Nyx (The name of a prototype Amiga chipset, though also Greek personification of the night!)

I have a personal idea that after the events of the game, one member from each of the major crews end up joining BRC, basically representing the unlockable characters in the post game. In this case, Nyx is the one who joins BRC (and in my mind she's the default Spring palette in the game), so let's start with her!

Bi, currently dating one of the Eclipse ladies (inspired by this very good fan art btw :D )

All of the FUTURISM gals have amazing skills both with computers and as writers. Nyx ends up being one of two Designated IT Person for BRC, the other being Cueball.

Her and Cueball get into little prank wars, mostly instigated by Cueball for the hell of it. Her opinion of him ranges from genuine respect for his own computer skills to Chump Lord Supreme. Depends on her mood (and how much Cueball has recently pissed her off before asking her about it, lol)

As for the rest of BRC: "Well, they're still kinda chumps, but I guess they're my chumps now, y'know?"

Not afraid to be snarky, even to authority figures (DJ Cyber included)

Now for Jazz (Summer palette):

Is actually a guy who crossdresses! Does drag shows on the weekends too. :D

She is personally not very picky about pronouns, but most people default to referring to Jazz with she/her while in her writer outfit or as her drag persona (she goes by Jazz for both anyways), and he/him when he's not dressed up. But again, not very picky either way.

"I'm just saying, when the cops try to chase me down, they're gonna be looking for a blonde woman, not a guy with dark hair and stubble. Literally, one time I ran around a corner and managed to take off my wig and mask, then just covered up my top with a hoodie I had. Same pants and shoes, but they didn't even notice!"

Truthfully the crossdressing thing was genuinely just for fun, not to mention pretty comfortable while going around doing writer stuff. It wasn't until a while later that she realized it would make for a great disguise as a writer. :P

Nyx and Jazz are basically Besties and will be more than happy to smacktalk about their respective crews behind everyone's backs, lol

Now Quantum (Winter palette):

Runs an underground (kinda literally) server farm for local web hosting, chat sites, and forums. Anyone remember forums? Man, the good ol' days...

Has a hand in a lot of open source freeware projects. Hates companies like Adobe, Apple, Google, and Microsoft with a passion. Big Linux nerd btw, she will talk you ear off about the pros and cons of different distros if you let her.

Actually on that note, if you're not talking to her while she's out and about as a writer, or otherwise talking to her about computer stuff, she's fairly introverted! Especially if you try to talk to her in person instead of via text/chat/email/etc, she's basically more talkative online.

Also very good at sneaking around. Though not really as like spying or anything like that, she just prefers to not get in people's way or annoy them. Unfortunately she has scared DJ Cyber more than once by sneaking up on him by accident, lol

Wears contacts as a writer, but otherwise wears glasses normally. Has been considering getting prescription heavy-duty goggles for her writer activities, so that she doesn't have to bother with the contacts anymore.

And finally Veronica (Autumn palette):

She is genuinely a jerk. Nyx can be snarky sometimes, but not in an overly mean way. Veronica will be more than happy to be nasty to someone if she thinks they deserve it, even if they really don't.

Always looks down on pretty much any other writer outside of FUTURISM. She's still convinced Felix cheated to get his reputation, especially the whole "did it with no boostpack" thing.

Most people would probably consider her a stereotypical Karen ngl :u

So yeah, she's basically That One Teammate Nobody Likes. Veronica is only still in the crew because her skills are second only to DJ Cyber himself. Hell, he really doesn't like her attitude, but can't find a replacement for her in terms of skills. (He's begged Vinyl to formally join FUTURISM in the past, but she always declined, preferring to keep being a freelance writer. And now that she's part of BRC, she's definitely not an option for replacing Veronica, lmao)

She had a crush on Faux, but these days refuses to admit it was ever a thing.

That's about all I got I think! Hope you enjoy these. :>

Small bonus, specific track from the game that I associate with FUTURISM the most: Funk Express!

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

What is with me and pissed off men stalking me? I mean honestly.

Guy I was kind of friends of friends with. I tried for a long time but he was a sanctimonious prick who thought he was always right so I cut him off.

Contacts me again (does my forehead say opposite day on it all the time so people think fuck off and stay there means try again?!?) I again try to ge cordial because I like to try to be a good person and give people the benefit of the doubt that they have changed -- I wouldn't reach out to someone unless I had changed, so...

He gets downright abusive because I said: a) no one KNOWS anything unless they have hard data that's replicatible, b) it is good to believe in whatever you choose and also acknowledge the possibility that you may be wrong, as keeping an open mind helps you grow, c) that as a grown adult I'm allowed to choose what I'd like to do and how, and that as I respect his choices, I expect mine to be respected as well.

In return he fucking raged at me insulting me with everything he could think of, thinking it'd hurt me (bro your shade game is weak, start looking to Shakespeare or Drag Queens, but you're gonna need to come a lot harder before it does more than just irk me) including how I wasn't things that I never said I was lol.

I said ok, that's two strikes, this ain't baseball, we're done, and I blocked him.

He starts messaging my business account for more raging because I dared not to be his sycophant.

Then starts this bizarre pissing contest about he's an Honors student at University (University of Phoenix)... um, 'kay. Well my degree is done with a 4.0 which I did while raising 4 amazing kids and I've actually worked in my field, and managed relationships, and I cut off my toxic abusive relatives by the time I was 20 while you still live with toxic mom... are we done with the dick measuring yet bc I promise mine will always be bigger.

Again said, we're done here. And blocked him.

(I did screenshot both before deleting.)

But today was the final fucking straw -- I have 2 business accounts, one that's more personal stuff, one that's directly business because coaching is weird and you need to share your relatability and shit.

I had posted a message about a brilliant woman I had just seen speak and how excellent her speech was and I looked forward to connecting as we work in adjacent areas.

He hijacked that to comment some bullshit!

So I screenshotted that, and sent all of them to his school as a violation of code of conduct and cyberbullying and had him informed that if he ever contacted me again I would get a restraining order to prevent him interacting.

Upside: Got to use this as content on how to disengage with abusive people and maintain boundaries.

But seriously... people say I don't want to talk to you and I... don't. I have on accession had B contact them if they had some of my stuff to arrange for him to pick it up without me present, respecting not wanting contact with me. Yet men continue to think it's fucking acceptable.

Jesus christ man create a fake contact in your phone to a non existent number (in the US, mine go 000-000-0001, 000-000-0002, etc) with their name and a contact photo and yell at it all you want. No need to actually be bothering people so you can vent.

[rcksmith]

Desire — Kaz Brekker

(Photo not mine)

Requests: “Hello there! I've been around this blog for a bit now and you are an amazing writer! I was wondering if you would be ok with doing something with 21 28 & 29 from the smut prompts and kaz brekker? If you are uncomfortable please just ignore this!”

“Kaz brekker Smut prompts 28 66?? Love you💖!!”

“I can request Kaz smut prompts 29?❤️”

Smut prompts:

21. “Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already shaking.”

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

66. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of shot, mention of desire, desire, mention of smut, explicit smut, NSFW.

Word count: 3k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

I hope you like💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There was something about you. Something impossible to decipher, with a glow hovering around you like a electrical energy. Wrapping your whole body in a cloak of magnetism. There was something about the way you spoke, walked, laugh. Something about what it was like to be you, in your beauty and mysteries like a sphinx.

Something that made Kaz Brekker completely furious.

You couldn't be more distorted from the image, in Kaz's mind, than what was to be a peaceful woman. Calm, controled, with steel emotions and wit in eyes. Someone who, like him, knew how to dance the waltz of negotiation, manipulation, who could blend in with the shadows and know the best time to listen more than speak.

You were not like Inej, you were not like Jesper. Hell, you were like nobody Kaz has known in all of his 28 years.

Nothing reminiscent of calm and control would be used to describe what it meant to be you.

Your soul are stormy, loud, obstinate, too stubborn and too talkative. You needed to speak loudly, laugh, move, expose your opinions to the seven winds and to whoever listened the most. You needed to question, inquire, doubt and test the limits of any situation. A direct order for you would be an affront to your free and independent spirit. A command that would curtail your freedom or tame your strong genius was almost like an invitation for you to do exactly the opposite of what they had ordered you to do.

So, for a man of trained reasoning, subtly balanced world, and who was used to his every command being followed vehemently and promptly in blind obedience, such a personality like you was like introducing a disturbing factor capable of shaking all his judgments. Sand in a watch, or stone in a shoe, would be no more a nuisance than a strong nature like your.

The extraordinary stubbornness and mania to counter his orders - when, in your words, they were unreasonable - had made you different from all the women Brekker had ever met. Kaz liked challenges and responsibilities, a good puzzle, but you were on a level far beyond that.

You were a danger to his peace of mind. And you knew that. All his aversion to your indomitable spirit only served as fuel for your own mission in to piss him off. Few men were like Kaz Brekker, you knew that, with a strength of character too powerful to be ignored. He was not just comfortable in his position of authority as he was obviously unable to act in any other way than as a leader. His stoic figure and always so contained in a wall of indifference made you want to ruffle his hair to see if you could remove any emotion. And being a girl who hasn't always liked leaders, Kaz Brekker was a huge temptation. Few moments had been better than those that you managed to piss him off beyond what he could handle.

However, all the reasons why the two of you were so exasperating for each other, did not explain why the air crackled in ambiguity when your eyes met. The hemisphere was adorned in a thought-provoking, poignant veil, like a warm honey flowing down its throat, and there was something else in the way blood flowed like flames of fire through veins of you two.

Jesper said that the sexual tension between you was so tangible that it could be cut by one of Inej's knives, but you refused to think of Kaz that way. At least until that moment.

Not pure images of what the infamous Brekker could do to you between four walls swept you like the strong Arabian wind. Making you be surprisingly breathless. Kaz was not a man whose private life was exposed, nor was he involved with many women, but you have heard two or three of them when they were drunk saying that Kaz Brekker in the room could be incendiary.

Everyone knew that his touch reserve didn't limit him to anything, but that his job was at the top of the priority list and that sexual encounters were almost never on that list.

"It was not my fault!” Jesper defended himself one night, slightly drunk, sitting at the club's round table next to the other crows “I didn't know he was married to another man! That damn pretty face seduced me!”

"Did he seduce you?" You asked, skeptical and playful.

"I swear to God! And it had been a long time since I had sex with anyone, and I went… ”

“But you did sex last week." Inej laughed, chocked.

"Exactly!" Jesper said, as if he were obvious.

You laughed with your beer glass in your hand, taking another sip.

“Is a week a long time to not sleep with anyone?" Matthias retorted, trying not to laugh.

“Are you going to tell me that is not?” Jesper and Nina spoke at the same time.

“If a man has time for sex more than once a week, he clearly doesn't have much to do. And I'm sure I gave Jesper a lot of tasks that would keep him busy.” Kaz narrowed his eyes at his friend, and Jesper hid his guilt behind the rim of his beer glass, looking to the side.

"So you are saying that you are a very busy man?" You teased, trying not to laugh at the scathing look Kaz sent you.

"I disagree. The values ​​of hard work and discipline cannot match the hot body of a woman in bed.” Matthias said, exchanging a brief conspiratorial look with Nina, who winked at him.

"There are more important things." Said Kaz.

"Like what?" You rested your chin on the back of the hand whose elbow was on the table, the playful look of a rebellious student.

"Progress." Kaz held your gaze.

He wasn't going to take your bait. But you didn't give up easy.

"Tell me, if God gave you a deal: all the hunger in the world would be extinguished in exchange for you never being able to have sex again, what would you choose?" your eyes had a teasing feline glow.

At that moment, Kaz felt a shiver up the back of his neck, like a warm breath of autumn. Something crawled, like a snake, across his rib cage and down to his groin, pumping blood like fire through his veins.

He held your gaze, but the feline glow in your eyes promised to contain the most ardent sins. Suddenly, Kaz's mind was flooded by the wave of obscene images of you, on his bed; moaning, squirming, shouting his name and being very obedient with every order he gave you.

He would make you such a good girl...

"I don't believe in God." He replied succinctly, the predator's eyes still in your eyes audacious feline's.

A big, satisfied smile spread across your face, and you said: "As I thought. Bad luck for hungry people.”

Realizing that he had fallen right into your cunning trap, Kaz got rid of your diabolical magnetism and cursed.

“I didn't say…” he stopped, impatient “It doesn't matter. I have more important things to do than waste time here.”

But the smile you hid behind the glass was noticeable to Kaz.

After that night, the crackling, gasping flame that circled the two of you intensified to alarming levels. Kaz could feel you holding your breath when he was too close, and you could see him squeezing his cane harder when you sweetened your voice for him.

However, regardless of Kaz's wanted to fold you at a table and put an end to your brat girl pose, enjoying the groans he was sure you would let out, the two of you still fought like dog and cat.

Just as it was now.

“What do you mean, I'm not going?!” You looked at Kaz, amazed, when he told you that you would not participate in the robbery that week “I know that security system like the back of my hand!”

It was true, what you had of stubbornness, you had of technological intelligence. There was no computer that you would not hack, a program that you would not hack, and a system that you would not unlock. Your genius with technology made up for all your lack of obedience.

But Kaz ignored. “I've already told you. It's a more dangerous mission than you're used to and we don't have time for the plans you come up with right away.” He needled you.

“Are you referring to Switzerland?” You were never anything short of direct and inquiring. It was logical that you would question every orden. “But I already told you that when the alarm went off your plan didn't work anymore! I was more useful inside to deactivate the alarm than waiting outside.”

And stubborn. Holy God, how stubborn you were!

"And it cost you to get shot."

"But it was just a shot!"

Kaz looked at you, puzzled. “Just?! And wasn't it enough ?! You put the whole team at risk!”

“But if I hadn't deactivated the alarm, we would all be arrested! And only I knew how to do that!”

"My fucking God, isn't there a speck of common sense in you?!"

But you answered boldly: "Not when you impose clueless plans on me."

Mortified would be an understatement to describe how he was now. What an unbearable creature! Kaz felt the anger spread from his neck to his face, igniting his breath and squinting his eyes in annoyance.

Why was it so difficult for you to follow a simple goddamn rule?!

“Besides, your initial plan was flawed and there was no reason for me to be out when it was necessary inside and...” And you kept talking!

If you had noticed Kaz's completely enraged state in front of you, you would have been scared, shut up and ran. But, truth be told, Kaz suspected that even if you knew how to read the murderous humor in his eyes, you wouldn't have left that office. Much less be afraid. You could argue with the demon. And you would probably beat him out of tiredness.

However, regardless of the desire to shake you up, to see if that put any good sense in you, in that second, watching you gesture with your hands, defending your point of view as if it were the england queen's crown, something swept Kaz's body from the top of his head with dark hair to the tips of his illustrated boots.

The sound of the world was drowned out by the flow of blood itself in his veins. His heart hammered hard in his chest and, in that instant, a sharp sting in his groin and the pit of his stomach set him on fire.

His gaze went down to your mouth, which kept moving. And when it came up to your eyes, your stubborn and defiant gaze sent Kaz's rationality into space. He dropped the cane abruptly, which toppled to the floor with a hollow crack, and advanced towards you in firm and determined steps.

Gluing his gloved hands to your face, Kaz silenced all your protests with a strong kiss. Hot, fiery, domineering. The kind of kiss that held years of camouflaged desire, years of irritability, years of an unnerving desire to make you shut up with all the perverse forms that existed.

You weren't afraid of him. But you should. You should if you knew everything he wanted to do with you.

However, as if you have been burning in the same desire for years, you responded to that kiss with the same urgency. The same hunger. Kaz slipped his hands into your hair, closing his fingers there and deepening the kiss with ferocity. He felt beside himself, like a hungry wild animal that had been denied food for years and that only now had its teeth set on its prey. You moaned against his lips, bringing your hands to his lean, strong biceps, squeezing your fingers there.

You both needed air, but neither seemed to give a damn about that. Misted of desire that burned like a fire in their bodies, Kaz pushed the two of you backwards, slamming your back against the wall and swinging a frame beside. You gasped, and the gesture made it possible for Kaz to invade your mouth with his tongue, hunting every piece of hot meat. You two fought the same battle in that kiss: invade, dominate, conquer.

They both wanted to take the waltz, but Kaz would never let you conduct the show.

He pulled your wrists up, pinning them with one hand against the wall, leaving you immobile while sinking his mouth further into yours. Kaz felt you try to get rid of his tight grip, but he was stronger than you. And much more when he have a objective.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He murmured against your mouth, the tip of his tongue playing with your bottom lip. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Was impossible for you to control the loud moan that escaped. Your body trembling with desire, your legs wobbly, your wet core vibrating with his words. Kaz Brekker was a fallen angel. With a beauty and charm you've never been immune to.

How can you think you'd win the dominance game with him?

And, like the fallen angel he was, his smug and arrogant smile painted the corner of his lips when he saw what his lines did to you.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” Kaz mocked “If I knew it was only necessary to do this for you to shut up...” he brought his lips closer, his voice hitting yours “I would have fucked you like the naughty brat you have been a long time.”

If his caustic and maddening kisses hadn't been enough to break you in half, that statement would have done all the work.

In that second, you hoisted your white flag, biting your lip in a needy moan and closing your eyes for a second by the overwhelming vibration of your core. God, you needed more. Whatever he gave you. Anything he wanted to give you. You just needed more.

"Are you going to be good?" He played with the dough you were in his hands, his devilish mouth going down your neck, leaving a trail of fire and debris wherever he went.

You agreed, desperately. “Yes, Sir."

That title seemed to do things with Kaz. Because in the next second, his mouth was back on your. More urgent, more needy, more dominating. You shifted your hips for more friction with his, and Kaz rewarded your obedience by pulling one of your thighs forward, making your skirt go up, aligning your thigh on his hips and giving access for his member to fit perfectly against your pulsating core.

You moaned louder this time. Fingers clenching, heart pumping frantically. Kaz pulled his lips away from you for a second, taking his hand off your thigh and bringing it to your mouth.

“Pull.” He ordered, referring to the glove.

You murmured a low, excited moan, bringing your mouth to the glove and clenching your teeth on the cloth at the top of his middle finger. Satisfied, Kaz pulled his hand back, watching the alabaster skin peel away from the leather fabric. As soon as he was free, he removed the glove from your mouth, replacing it with his own and stealing all your breath in that fiery kiss.

His free hand wandered over your thigh, touching you for the first time with a touch that promised to show you all the most delicious and secret sins in the world. His tongue wrapped around your again, and the moan you let out was even greater when his long fingers brushed against your wet, throbbing core.

"S-sir!" You sobbed, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

"Look at you." His fire voice beat against your lips, the tightness against your wrists getting stronger, more possessive "I’ ve only started using my fingers and you ’re already shaking"

Your body cried out in unbridled desire, sobs mingling with loud moans and heavy sighs as Kaz tormented you with his fingers. He touched you, slid, opened and sank, increasing the volume of your pleas.

“P-please" You begged, the body in need, the urge too urgent.

Kaz looked you in the eye, a dark, malicious gleam burning in his Egyptian blue irises. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" He teased you.

But you no longer cared about his teasing. With your lips swollen and red, your heart racing and the core pulsing in despair on his experienced fingers, you were already surrendered.

"Please. I n-need." You mumbled submissively, rummaging your hips in his hand.

"I bet if I wanted to fuck you against my desk, here and now, you would be very happy to do it, wouldn't you?"

He was foisting all of his dominance on you, bending you to your knees for him. And you knew that. You knew he was taking years of anger out on you. But you couldn't care less. You wanted him. Ardently. Desperately. And if it was a good girl Kaz wanted, damn it, you would be a good girl for him.

You readily agreed, your eyes shining in supplication.

“Good.” Kaz pulled you brutally off the wall, turning you over to the table and pushing your chest against the icy wood, pulling your hips at him. “Because that's exactly what is going to happen.”

Suddenly, desire and hunger roared like a wild beast. Kaz watched you, bent over his desk, obedient, surrendered, offering every inch of your body to him.

His breath was burning in his throat and it was no longer possible to order his thoughts, contain his euphoria. He would fuck you so hard that it would make that memory the only thought when you remembered him. When you dare to rebut his orders.

Kaz pulled you skirt up and your panties down, letting out a groan that sounded more like a growl as he saw your wet core. Pulsing and desperate for him. For anything he wanted to give you. It sparked a fervent desire that Brekker had never felt in his life, devastating any possibility of thinking about anything other than fucking you.

Playing with your fingers in your slick, wet folds, you whimpered again, the core pulsing whenever he teased you inside, pressing his fingertips there but never entering.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" His voice came over the top of your shoulder, hoarse, animalistic, full of profane desires.

"Please." You were quick to beg “I do what you want! But just...please, please… ”

You already felt your eyes watering from over-stimulation, your heart burning so hard it was beating, your core aching from emptiness.

You sealed the end of the game between you. Kaz had won. In a triumphant checkmate.

And you didn't have to beg again. Barely seeing when he unbuttoned his pants, you just reasoned his hard, hot, pulsating member by opening your from the inside. Claiming everything that was yours as his in a strong, desperate, hungry lunge.

"S-sir!" You screamed, your nails scraping the wood from the table, the core pulsing overwhelmingly around his rigid member.

In a more badly lunge, Kaz sank completely into you, moaning loudly as he hit rock bottom. The gloved hand slid over your shoulder, propelled you to him while the bare hand tightened on your waist, hitting you at a steady, raw, animalistic rhythm.

The sounds were pornographic, dirty and loud, echoing off the walls. The air was hot like molten lava, pungent and muffled, driving you two lost breath. Their bodies clashed as if the world was going to end tomorrow, in aggressive, rough thrusts. These were thrusts that made half of his things on the table fall to the floor, mixing in a mess that would serve as a reminder later about the sinful activities you two did.

You screamed when Kaz took on more force, his fingers squeezing you so hard that they would leave you with marks on your shoulder and waist the next day.

"Fucking hell!" Kaz snarled between his teeth, feeling your flesh throb around him, squeezing he with such desperation that he knew you were close.

You sobbed, tears streaming down the corners of your eyes as you pushed your ass towards him, trying to bring him as deep as possible, as deep inside you as possible. But every time his pelvis smashed into your ass, a loud moan and the feeling of being completely full drowned you.

You begged, pleaded, for something you didn't know. But Kaz seemed to know. Taking both hands to your hips, your pace became even more unperturbed, pushing you to the limit until you cum in a scream in his name, your lungs on fire. Kaz came close behind, sinking as deep as possible and pouring all the hot liquid into you. Almost like a brand.

The air was filled with sex, lust and desire, filled only by the sound of their ragged breaths that struggled to stabilize.

You were still panting when Kaz's voice came after you: "Whatever I want, don't I?"

A deal with the devil.

[kikixreverie]

Hi- may I ask for an angst-mix with Bucky x reader: she had her share of abusive/toxic relationships in her past, but it was nothing she spoke of, and not now when she had James. It wasnt like she thought she was gonna be triggered again, not by him, any other guy- buy not her Bucky! Some tiny bickering evolved to a large dispute, and before she knew what was happening, she shied away from him, making herself small, awaiting the blow - that never came... And instead she was overcome by shame...

Pasts and Apologies

Bucky x Fem!reader

Word count - 3k

Warnings - Mentions of domestic abuse from ex, some descriptions of abuse, angst, trauma

A/n - Okay I definitely went hard on the angst for this one. I kinda just went off on one so not so much bickering and more just a full blown argument but I've been feeling kinda angsty lately so I kinda accidentally made this darker than I expected. Please read the warnings and do not read if you think this could trigger you.

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Love had not been kind to you before Bucky. Every decent memory of your ex was clouded with uncertainty, you would walk on eggshells around him, terrified that saying the wrong thing would set him off and you'd be calling Sam again, sobbing down the phone, cradling another bruise at the hands of your 'partner'.

You were together for years, devoted to and unconditionally in love with the man that you had met in high school. Childhood sweethearts.

He always was quick to anger and he wasn't shy about that. He never had any issues with shouting at you when you pissed him off, just as he never had issues with shouting at his mother or younger brother, but at the time, you had always stood up for yourself and defended the poor woman, making him apologise, and he let you, he always let you clean up his messes.

The first few years were spent in ignorant bliss, you constantly ignored the fear that would creep up your spine when he got angry, but you could manage a screaming match or two, you could manage it all because you loved him, you depended on him despite that he wasn't at all dependable.

The arguments were tough, but you never expected it to go further than that, but eventually, it did.

The first time he was physically aggressive was on his 22nd birthday. He had insisted that he spend his birthday with his friends, calling it a guys night, and you were fine with that, you knew how handsy he got when he was with his friends anyway, so you spent the day with him instead, making sure to keep him happy and spoilt rotten.

As the night crept on, you had tried to wait up for him to return, just as he had asked, but as it passed 3am you decided that he wouldn't mind you going to bed since you had work the next day, so you crawled into bed and fell asleep, a mistake, at the time, you didn't know you had made.

When he returned half an hour later to see you unconscious, he woke you up with his shouting, angry that you hadn't stayed up for him, convinced that you were ruining his night on purpose. The loud awakening was enough alone to trigger your fight or flight but when he threw the duvet off you and grabbed your ankle so tightly you knew a bruise would form, you were terrified. He dragged you off the bed and pushed you towards the door, telling you to fuck off, and you did, tears streaming down your face as you laid awake on the couch till morning.

It only got worse from there, when he realised that he could hurt you and get away with it, it became his favourite past time, he'd look for reasons to shout at you, make you do things that would piss him off just so he'd have a reason to be cruel.

When Sam started noticing dark bruises on your skin, he was livid, and despite how often you'd try to convince him that it's just clumsiness, Sam knew better.

There were rare days that you would have long conversations with Sam, you'd talk about how you'd lost all your friends and distanced yourself from your family but you didn't blame your abuser, you blamed only yourself, and Sam would beg you to leave him but you'd be sobbing in his arms, telling him that you still loved the man who hurt you, that he didn't really mean to hurt you and you'd feel even more guilt if you ever got him in trouble for it.

It was a long and hard journey, but the moment you told Sam that you wanted out, he was there for you, offering you to stay at his place and helping you call the cops. He gave you all the resources he could possibly find through the VA and set you up with an amazing therapist and eventually you were living in your own place, talking to old friends again, and filing a restraining order against your ex.

It was nearly two years later when you met him. Introduced through Sam, you met the love of your life on a Sunday. He was quiet and focused, with hard eyes scanning the room, looking for escape routes, analysing people's faces.

You smiled gently at him when you met, opting for a small nod in greeting instead of a handshake. You stayed near him for the remainder of the gathering, not pressuring him to speak to you, just sitting in silence. You were drawn to him, his behaviour was so similar to yours.

You knew what it felt like to want to just blend into the corner, to stay unnoticed, you understood the need to know how to escape a room, and you saw the way he hesitantly returned your smile and then struggled to chase his smile away once you had sat down beside him.

You and Bucky soon became each other's rocks, always there for the other on the hard days, days that you would spend just walking or reading together in calm silence. There was no doubt that the two of you loved each other, and after months and months of trying to hide longing glances and blushing cheeks, you finally confessed to each other, and the rest was history. You trusted him like you had never trusted anyone before.

As your relationship progressed, Bucky started to notice some strange things in your behaviour, how you'd always ask his permission for you to go out with friends, how you were always quick to apologise in any situation and distanced yourself from him when he was the slightest bit irritated.

He had tried to ask you about it, but you always changed the subject as soon as it was mentioned, ensuring him that it was nothing to worry about.

To tell the truth, you were embarrassed, you were ashamed that your ex still had this effect on you, and no matter how many times you told yourself that he would never, that your Bucky would never, your brain refused to allow you to believe it and you continued with the odd behaviour that you used as a defence mechanism when in the abusive relationship.

You never spoke out of line, you never asked him where or who he was going out with, and you never let small bickering escalate.

It was only after you had overheard Sam and Bucky in a heated conversation, Sam scolding Buck for being reckless and stupid during a mission, that you had your first argument with him.

You had called Sam while Bucky was at the store, convincing him to tell you what had happened and after a few minutes of guilt-tripping, Sam finally confessed that Bucky had practically ran into open fire, endangering himself in an attempt to shut down a Hydra base, it could've very easily been fatal, and it wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

You knew it was wrong, you knew you should've just asked Bucky about it, but you couldn't help yourself, and you knew that Bucky would've downplayed the whole situation.

When he returned home you were pacing up and down in the living room, chewing the inside of your cheeks and your nails to pieces because you could've lost him, Bucky could've died and he was acting as if it were nothing.

"Doll?" You could hear the worry in his voice as he placed the shopping bags on the kitchen counter and walked over to you, standing in front of you to stop your movement, pulling your hand from your mouth and kissing your knuckles.

It was supposed to calm you, and it almost did, but as his soft lips grazed your hand, and his eyes met yours, your mind kept wandering to the fact that he could've died.

This moment could've never happened, instead, you'd have Sam or Steve at your door, trying to deliver the news of their best friend's death, your lover.

"Honey speak to me" He looked utterly confused, but the look only made you feel angry.

How could he be so reckless?

"I just got off the phone with Sam."

He froze, eyebrows furrowing and taking a step away from you, waiting for you to explain.

Your gaze didn't move from the floor, trying to even out the anger and worry rushing through you, settling like a heavy rock in your stomach.

"He told me about the missions, about how you've been acting."

"What do you mean, how I've been acting?" He scoffed, sounding offended, and you sighed.

"How reckless you've been acting. Sam said that Tony's considering pulling you out of missions! How many times have you endangered yourself like this? How many times is it gonna take for you to realise that you could fucking die out there, James."

Your voice was stern, and the tone felt foreign against your tongue. Bucky's kept his face hard, refusing to show any emotion, but you could see the way his jaw clenched harshly, eyes glued to the corner of the room, ignoring your fiery glare.

"Were you ever going to tell me? I thought that all the injuries you got were fairly normal for the jobs you do, but when I hear that you run into open fire, that you make decisions on your own before talking to your team, that you've gotten fucking stabbed in the past, and you never told me, how do you expect me to react?"

He sighed heavily through his nose, jaw ticking in annoyance towards his friend, angry that he had told you even though it wasn't his place.

"I told him not to tell you." His voice was gruff, the words spoken harshly under his breath and you felt your anger flair again.

"What and you think that's okay?!"

His gaze shot to yours, looking at you incredulously.

"Bucky we're partners! You're supposed to tell me this shit, you're supposed to tell me when you've nearly died on a mission, you're supposed to trust me."

"You think I don't trust you?!" His voice was slightly raised and you felt your annoyance spike, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry."

"Of course I'm gonna worry, James. This is a big deal, I can't believe you've been getting seriously injured and not telling me."

"Well, I don't think it's that big of a deal, Sam shouldn't have fucking told you. This wouldn't be happening if he had just kept his mouth shut, but no! Of course not!" Bucky's eyebrows were drawn in tight with annoyance, wishing you'd just drop the subject, "I'm not stupid, I know what I'm doing."

"What the hell do you mean 'You know what you're doing?' You know that you're not supposed to endanger yourself to complete a mission, yet you do it anyway. I'm glad Sam told me because otherwise, I doubt I'd ever find out!."

"I don't see how what I do on missions is anything to do with you. Sam is exaggerating. I'm fine!"

As Bucky's voice raised, you started to lose focus, flashbacks of your past echoing in your mind and in his annoyance, Bucky didn't notice the way your eyes had gone distant, losing sight of the man in front of you, the man you loved, and forming the image of the man you still see in nightmares, the man you're so terrified of seeing in the street that you haven't stepped foot in Queens since leaving him.

You could almost feel the sting of his palm against your cheek, the burn of his hand, tight around your wrist, and you tried to remind yourself that it wasn't real. It had been months since you'd had an episode, and your steps to control them were hard to find with the false image of your abuser so clear in front of you.

"Are you even listening to me?" The statement dragged you back to reality and you felt yourself calm when your eyes focused in on Bucky, reminding yourself that your ex wasn't here, that Bucky wasn't like that, he would never, but as he raised his arm to push his hair out of his face, everything flew out the window and in the moment, you were 21 again and you were sure he was going to hit you, your exes face flashing behind your eyes again.

You flinched, a gasp falling from your lips as your eyes squeezed shut and your head ducked down, breathing heavily through your nose as you awaited the hit.

Time slowed.

Bucky froze completely, his eyes wide and frantic as he quickly stumbled away from you, shaking his head as self-hatred ran through his veins, disgusted at himself for making you think even in the slightest, that he would ever hurt you.

"Doll?" He sounded absolutely broken.

Your head shot up, panic flooding through you when you realised what you had done and pain replacing the feeling when you saw the agony on Bucky's face.

"Y/n, I- I would never-" He kept his voice at a pained whisper, not wanting to scare you further as he stayed at a distance.

You collapsed to the floor, sitting on your knees as the weight of the situation pulled you down. Your hands raised to cover your mouth as a sob threatened to tear through you, so fucking ashamed of what had just happened, so fucking ashamed that your ex had done this to you, and you had let him for so long, ashamed that he still haunted you.

"Babydoll I-" He struggled to find the words, terrified that he had just lost you, wanting to reach out and hold you but scared shitless of hurting you more than he already had, "I don't know what- I'm so fucking sorry y/n, I can't- I can't even fathom the thought of-"

His voice trailed off, unable to even say the words and you felt your guilt tenfold.

"N-No Bucky, I'm sorry I thought-" You struggled to speak through your crying, hot tears flowing down your cheeks as you rocked yourself gently in an attempt to self-soothe.

"Why are you apologising honey? This is on me, this is-"

"No, it isn't, I promise Buck this isn't you, it's.." You couldn't get the words out, you couldn't tell him, "Just come here, please."

You wanted him to wrap his arms around you, you needed him to know that it wasn't him, you know the way his mind works and you knew that by now he would already be drowning in guilt and self-hatred.

"I don't think that I should. I don't want to hurt you, I can't- I can't hurt you" You smiled at him gently through your tears and your chin wobbled as you saw the tears running down his cheeks too.

"It's okay. I'm okay Bucky, I just- I-I need you over here, I need you - I need you to touch me. I need you."

He was over in an instant, falling to the floor beside you and letting out a huge sigh of relief when you instantly wrapped yourself around him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and crawling into his lap, needing to be as close to him as possible, to rid the memories of the pain, to remind yourself that his touch is good, his touch is safe.

Arms enveloped you and he held you as tight as possible, the both of you crying.

After the two of you had calmed down and a comfortable silence enveloped you, Bucky knew he would have to break it.

"Why did you think that I would hit you?" He asked, his voice tentative and gentle and you sighed, knowing that it was time for you to tell him.

"I didn't, I don't, I promise."

You lifted your head from his shoulder but still stayed on his lap, instead, resting your forehead against his.

"Then why-?"

"I thought I was better, I-I thought it was all over but I just- I lost myself again. Everything got all foggy and I lost where I was and I just, I thought I was there but-" The floodgates opened again and you knew that Bucky had no clue what you were talking about but the words just kept coming.

Bucky's eyebrows were furrowed tightly and when your vague, confusing explanation only made his worry grow, he felt himself pulling you even tighter against him.

"Doll, Did someone hurt you? Is that why you're always walking on eggshells around me? Is that what the nightmares are about?" He struggled against the words, not wanting to say them because he didn't want to believe them and he watched in agony as you swallowed hard and nodded slowly, your hands coming to rest on the back of his neck as you continued to hold your forehead against his.

He refused to let his anger show, he wouldn't do that to you, especially with you so fragile, but he couldn't hide the pained shaky breath he let out at your confession, "Fuck, I'm so sorry. God, I'm so sorry that that happened to you. Was it your ex? Did he hurt you?"

You nodded again, doing your breathing exercises, and calming yourself so that you could explain your situation fully to your partner.

"I should've told you, I know, I just, I'm so angry that I'm still like this, I just wish it would all go away and I could forget about what he did. I thought I was better. I can't stand that I'm still so haunted by that asshole" Bucky nodded along as you spoke, brushing his fingers up and down your back to help calm you.

"It's okay, Doll. Things like that don't just go away. Believe me, I wish they did too, but things will get better, I promise you that. Thank you for telling me."

You scoffed in self-deprecation, "I should've told you ages ago."

"That doesn't matter, you've told me now, and I'm sure it wasn't easy, so thank you for sharing" His voice was so gentle, his hands caressing your back almost making you feel sleepy.

"And Buck?" He hummed in response, letting you know that he was listening, "About the mission thing, I'm just worried about you. I can't lose you, I need you, and I need you alive."

A gentle smile lifted his frown and he nodded in understanding, feeling bad for getting mad in the first place, and you leaned back, looking down at him, your hands playing with his hair.

"I know. I'm sorry for being an idiot, It's just so hard to look at them and remember what they did to me and know what they've done to so many innocent people and I just lose it, all rationality out the window" You nodded at him, understanding how painful some of the missions must be.

"I'm sorry I got so upset with you, and I'm sorry I went to Sam instead of talking to you. Don't be mad at him, I kinda forced him to tell me" You gave him a sheepish look and he breathed out a small laugh, his nose crinkling like you always loved.

"It's okay doll, I'm sorry for being so careless and hiding the stuff about the missions, I promise I'll be more careful, I gotta make sure I always come home to my sweet girl. And don't worry about Sam, you deserved to know and I know what you're like."

You tutted at him and he smiled in response, the adorable, loving look on his face making you pull him into the sweetest, softest kiss which he instantly returned.

After sitting together in each others embrace for a while, the yawns eventually started. You were both positively exhausted from all the emotions you had both just experienced so Bucky wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted you both from the floor, discarding the groceries still left in bags in the kitchen and carrying you to bed, holding you as close as physically possible as you both drifted off to sleep.

[jekacatrina]

Umm so for the bkdk prompt thing I was wondering if you could do some quirk mishap. Mostly because your fic where Izuku loses his memory is one of my favourites and i want to read something like that, but i can't think of any idea which isn't an extremely overused trope...

Hey, thanks for asking!

Okay, first of all, I'm so happy "You feel like home" is one of your favorites, it's one of mine as well. That fic actually took a while, so I hope this short quirk mishap is to your liking! (Disclaimer: I know OFA wouldn't work this way, but meh, it was fun to write!)

The Wonder Duo finally cornered the villain in an alley.

“Game over, fucker!” Kacchan shouted before exploding his way up.

The woman smirked before raising a hand and activating her quirk.

The purple beam hit Kacchan square on the chest, sending him flying back.

“Kacchan!” Izuku jumped between his partner and the wall, catching without a second thought. 

Light exploded around them the moment they touched. Green and orange beams surrounded them, nearly blinding them. They fell down, with Izuku still cradling him in his arms.

Kacchan shook his head, groaning in pain, while Deku felt his temperature rising.

“The fuck you just did?!”

“I swapped your quirks,” she said, winking. “Good luck catching me now!” And with that she was off, leaping over them and running in the direction of the street.

“Shit!” Kacchan untangled them, studying his hands. “Fucking Hell, nothing!” He punched the floor.

“It’s definitely temporary, OFA wouldn’t allow a permanent switch without my will,” Izuku muttered. “Our quirks are probably not as strong as usual, otherwise she could have seriously hurt you.”

“Oh shut up, don’t compare me, in all my glory, to the weak ass noodle you were when All Might gave you OFA,” Kacchan got up, rolling his shoulders. Then offered a hand to Izuku and hauled him to his feet.

“I think it only mirrors the physical aspects of it,” Izuku fanned his face lightly. Did Kacchan normally walk around packing this much heat? 

“You okay, nerd?” His partner pinched his cheek.

“Yeah, just warm,” Izuku reassured him. “How do you feel?”

“Pissed,” Kacchan grunted. “She thinks she’s such a hot shit, I’ll teach her not to mess with us.” His partner unclasped his grenades, hiding them behind the dumpster. “Are you ready to put all your observation skills to good use, nerd?” Kacchan smirked, the challenge making his eyes shine brighter.

Izuku only needed a second to understand what he meant. He grinned and hastily removed his gloves, storing them for safety in his belt.

“You think you can do better than me?”

“An egg inside a microwave, right, loser?” Kacchan arched an eyebrow and closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply, and Izuku noticed with wonder as the red lines of power crisscrossed his skin. They expanded until they disappeared, leaving an orange shine around his partner. “If I catch her first you’re cleaning the apartment for a month, nerd!” The pavement cracked the moment Kacchan bolted. “I know I’m just as fast as you, so you better keep up!” 

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Izuku protested, running behind him until he worked up a sweat. 

Every moment he had spent drinking the sight of his partner effortlessly propelling his body in the air flashed in the back of his mind. He clenched his palms, focusing the heat in the center and he shot up to the sky with the next step.  He had a different build, more legs than shoulders but nothing he couldn’t manage.

The blasts made his shoulders throb but he didn’t quit his advance. Izuku spotted Kacchan two blocks away; he was jumping over cars and using walls for impulse, easily switching the blast of his explosions in favor of the extra strength in his limbs to move faster and faster. 

God, how good he was at everything was equally amazing and insufferable.

He had been right though, he was just as fast as Izuku. 

With a big explosion, he passed Kacchan, searching for the villain scurrying in front of them. She kept looking back with the widest eyes Izuku had ever seen.

Served her right for underestimating them.

“I knew my quirk was better than yours!” Kacchan shouted under him.

“Maybe I’m just a better wielder in general!” Izuku teased, looking down with a grin.

“You little shit!” Kacchan raised the percentage, gaining ground and finally tackling the villain.

“You’re insane!” she wiggled out of his grip, crawling away when Izuku did a somersault, falling right in front of her and raising a hand. The sparks dancing in his palm were enough to freeze her.

Kacchan marched to her, his skin sizzling with the energy OFA coursing through his veins.

“Are you kidding me?! It’s a whole different quirk!” She cried out, staring first at Izuku then at Kacchan with horror.

They shared a look over her. It was an universal truth by this point, after being together their whole lives, that sometimes they knew the other better than they knew themselves.

Strengths, and weaknesses, and everything in between.

Izuku wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Well, that damn nerd stole half of my moves, so better luck next time!” Kacchan twisted her arms behind her back, clasping her hands in handcuffs.

“I didn’t steal them,” Izuku defended himself. “You inspire me, it’s different.”

Kacchan snorted.

“You’re such a kiss-ass,” he said fondly.

His partner propped the woman against a parked car while they waited for the police to arrive. Then he crowded Izuku against a bus, hiding them from view. 

“Care to find out if I can give you back OFA?” Kacchan whispered in the small space between them. His red eyes were smoldering and Izuku felt his breath catch in his throat. He leaned closer, eyes half lidded. 

Their lips almost touched before he got a mouthful of hair.

“Kacchan!” Izuku squealed, laughing despite his annoyance.

“What? You can pick the strand if you want,” he replied, rubbing the blond locks all over his face.

“You’re the worst,” Izuku cupped his face, pushing his head back until Kacchan faced him.

“Nah, I’m the fucking best.”

He was, so Izuku kissed him.

-----

Don't you guys love how much they understand the other?

[lovelyrots]

Under Her Spell

Fantasy AU

Yandere Sorceress! Momo x maid! Reader x yandere Prince!Shouto

Warnings - ‘love potion’ use, dubcon (aphrodisiac is involved), attempted sexual assault (from Shoto), some Dabi/Touya slandering, power dynamics (just in case), angst, wlw/yuri/lesbianism, 69

Masterlist

Another sigh leaves Momo’ red painted lips as she watches the love of her life through her tower’s window. She watches how her fingers nimbly hang up linens on the line and how her face lights up as she talks about whatever with another maid.

She’s known about her blind love for some lowly maid for some time now, and yet she can’t bring herself to actually speak with the girl of her affections. The most she managed to say to the girl was just a quick, and often mumbled, ‘good morning’ as the two passed each other in the palace’s halls.

Sure she’s a prodigy and the youngest mage to be employed by the King but does any of it matter when she can’t even manage to say something beyond a greeting to the one that holds her heart? She can summon demons and beasts of unimaginable strength and yet she can’t summon the courage to speak to the girl. Pretty pathetic huh?

So since she’s such a coward, she chooses to watch from afar and enter her love’s dreams at night. Her former professor had once said that dreams are when a person’s desires are most malleable, so she’s been forcing herself into the young maid’s dreams in the hope that maybe she would one day approach the sorceress and confess her love to her. Nearly a year of entering the maid’s dreams and Momo has absolutely nothing but an aching heart to show for it.

“If you want her then why not just drink a draught of courage and go actually talk to the girl? Or you could even sneak a love potion into her drink.” Her familiar Jirou spoke up from her perch. Momo let out a deep sigh and turned away from the window to face the creature. “A draught of courage doesn’t actually give someone courage, it just boosts their adrenaline. I’ve thought about using a love potion but it’s too immoral. I want her to genuinely love me, not be drugged and forced to love me.” Jirou just scoffed and turned away from her. “Morals seem pretty stupid if you’re trespassing in her dreams, but fine stare at her for years until she actually meets someone and runs off with them.”

Momo frowned and turned back to the window. ‘She’s just trying to tempt me to do the wrong thing, it’s what demons ultimately do. Besides, King Enji is having a ball tomorrow for Prince Shoto’s nineteenth birthday and I’m sure he’ll order me to be there. I can show off my talents and she’ll be so amazed by me that she’ll approach me and then I can sweep her off her feet!’ Momo let out a dreamy sigh as she began envisioning how tomorrow may go, while her love outside was being watched by the youngest prince.

~*~*~

You were just chatting with your fellow maid when you heard the Head House-Maid call your name. You excuse yourself from Ochako and make your way to your supervisor briskly. “Yes, Madam?” “Master Shoto’s room needs to be cleaned again, supposedly Master Touya had ruined the room while the young Master was out training. Don’t tarry, the young Master will be back in an hour from his studies.” The elderly woman ordered before leaving you.

You sigh and reluctantly head to Master Shoto’s room after picking up the usual supplies needed for cleaning any mess. ‘I swear, Master Touya is the eldest and yet acts like such a petulant child sometimes. Now I have to clean that room yet again. If I wasn’t just a maid I would throttle that man’s neck.’ You bitterly thought to yourself as you reach the youngest prince’s room and enter, seeing the room has practically been turned upside down.

The phoenix-down mattress was thrown off the bed, there were wine stains all over the silk curtains and if your nose was right then you’re pretty sure the man had pissed all over the pillows. Thankfully, vinegar works for almost any mess.

You grit your teeth and thank the gods above that your uniform requires you to wear gloves as you remove the soiled bed sheets and pillow cases and toss them into a pile with the silk curtains. You let out grunts as you heave the mattress back onto the gold and dark oak bed frame and run down to retrieve some new clean linens and curtains.

‘I just need to last until the end of next week, and then I can start working in the Iida Household. It’ll be less pay but at least I won’t be dealing with anything like this.’ You remind yourself as you spray the vinegar solution onto the pillows and allow them to sit on the windowsill as you clean and organize the rest of the room, carrying the dirtied laundry to the washroom and fetching a scent charm to disperse any lingering odors.

You’re just about finished with the room and setting the pillows and clean duvet on the bed when the door opens to reveal prince Shoto. You turn to the prince and bow before him. “Welcome back young master. Please excuse the intrusion, a mess had been made in your quarters.” You explain and wait for him to dismiss you so you could and get away from his gaze.

You’ve never liked being around the youngest prince; anytime you’re in the same room as him, your skin begins to crawl and you want nothing more than to run away. Hell, you’d almost rather be in the same room as the king. Sure he’s cold and is more likely to have you executed for a minor mistake but at least you won’t feel like you’re being undressed by his eyes.

“Hm, let me guess, it was Touya?” He steps closer to you and you manage to steel your nerves enough to stay put. “From what I was told, it appears so. May I leave, sir?” You asked and desperately hope he’ll finally dismiss you. He’s silent as he steps closer to you, practically in your face, and you give into your instincts and try to take a step back but he grabs you by your biceps and pushes you onto the bed.

You open your mouth to scream but he quickly puts his hand over it. “You look so much better on my bed than cleaning it. My birthday is tomorrow, you know. That means I’ll be king in just one more year or sooner if the old man finally dies. You would look so gorgeous at my side as my queen, but I don’t think I’d be able to wait for a whole year to have you.” He murmurs as his other hand pushes your knee length skirt up.

You try to push him away but you might as well be striking a brick wall as your puny fists do nothing to force him off. You’re both oblivious to the soft knocking at the door until it opens and a gasp is heard. You quickly turn your gaze to see princess Fuyumi with her hand held over her mouth before running over and pulling her brother off of you. “Shoto! You can’t just force yourself on people!” You hear her shout at him at you run from the room, your vision heavily obscured by the tears in your eyes.

You don’t know how but you ended up running to your provided room and slam the door shut as you slid down to the floor and held yourself while sobs wracked your body and the ghost of his touch lingered on your skin.

~*~*~

Momo bit her lip nervously as she’s led by the princess through the maid’s quarters, a horrible feeling bubbling in her stomach. She had heard through the staff gossip that prince Shoto had assaulted a maid, and she hadn't seen her love in nearly four days. While it’s something she wouldn’t want to wish on anyone, she hopes you had just run away from the castle or left to see family. She hopes she isn’t being led to see to you; according to the princess, the maid that was assaulted refused to be seen by any male and the princess was worried this hadn’t been the first incident.

To top it all off, she hasn’t been able to enter your dreams in the past three days which has only fueled her paranoia that something has happened to you.

“I know healing magic isn’t your specialty but a female cleric wouldn’t be able to arrive before next week and I’m worried about this maid. The Head House-Maid told me she’s had to coax her out just to bathe and isn’t eating any of the meals that have been brought to her.” Princess Fuyumi explained quietly, keeping her voice just quiet enough that the passing servants aren’t able to hear.

“O-of course. Though if her only wounds are mental then I’m afraid all I can do is ease her pain, not take it away.” She gulps as the pair come to a stop at one of the nondescript doors and the princess gently knocks before opening the door and poking her head in.

“It’s okay, it’s just me and the royal sorceress. She’s going to make sure you’re okay and ease any pain you have. If that’s okay, of course. May we come in?” Momo’s heart dropped as she made out your voice saying they could enter.

“Thank you. Once again, I deeply apologize for what my brother did. I sent a letter to the Iida family, letting them know that you may leave our family’s employment as soon as you’d like as well.” Now Momo’s heart has not only dropped but she’s pretty sure it’s stopped beating at this point.

‘She was planning on leaving to work somewhere else? She’ll probably try and leave before the sun sets today.’ She’s brought out of her thoughts when the princess says something. “Are you okay with her looking you over? If it would make you more comfortable, I can step out of the room.” You nod and then the princess obliges and gently shuts the door behind her.

“My name’s Momo, may I know yours?” She asks, even though she’s known her beloved’s name for nearly two years now, but from how her love is shielding herself it seems like a gentle approach is needed here. She wants to sigh and tell you that your name is as beautiful as a rose in full bloom when it leaves your lips but she holds that back and tosses it to the farthest corner of her mind.

“Thank you, do you feel any pain anywhere? Feel physically sick in any way?” Momo kneels before you on the floor and looks up at your downcast eyes. “No, not physically at least.” Momo nods and asks you to clarify how you feel. “It’s more like…like I can still feel his hands on me. It’s like bugs or worms are stuck under my skin, and no matter how much I scrub my skin the feeling just never goes away.” Momo wants to hold you as you burst into tears and nearly curl into yourself.

“I’m sorry, was this the first time or has it happened before?” ‘Please tell me, my love. Then I can brew a poison that no one will be able to detect and watch the brat choke on his own spit and die!’ Momo held her hand out, allowing you the choice to either deny her comfort or take it. She could practically dance among the stars as your somehow soft hands enveloped her hand, gripping as if Momo would disappear from your sight otherwise.

“T-this was the only time, b-but he’s always looked at me like…” you trail off and you're shaking now as Momo contemplates if you’d be okay with her holding you. She ultimately decides not to push your boundaries and instead lays her other hand over yours as she gives you a minute.

“Would you like me to try and ease your trauma? It won’t go away completely but I can at least make it easier on you.” “What do you mean?” Momo hums as she ponders the best way to describe what she’s offering. “Well it’s like breaking a bone. Sure it can be wrapped up and taken care of, but the actual bone will need time to heal. It won’t be better instantly, but it can be easier to live with the wound.” She watches as you bite your lip and finally nod.

“Alright, there’s no spell for it but I can brew you a potion. Simply take two drops a day for as long as you need and it’ll ease the trauma. I can either bring it back here to you or if you’d like, you can come with me to my tower? It would just be you, me, and my familiar there. As long as you aren’t allergic to cat hair then you’ll like her.” Momo offers and subtly slips in that there would be no males there.

“I…how long would it take?” “Hmm, maybe four hours? I should have all the ingredients for it but the actual brewing process is what takes forever.” “C-could you just bring it here?” Momo gives you a gentle smile and pats your hand. “Of course. Would you like something for nightmares as well? That would only take about 45 minutes to brew.” Momo expected you to nod or say a simple ‘yes’ like you have been but she’s pleasantly surprised when you throw your arms around her and begin sobbing into her shoulder. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“It's no problem. Trust me, that is the very least I can do for you. I’ll knock four times when it’s done, that way you’ll know it’s me. I’ll be back this evening.” Momo says, reluctantly pulling away from you. More than anything she wants to savor the feel your hands in hers but your well-being comes first and she wasn’t lying when she said it’ll take four hours.

“How is she? What did she say?” Princess Fuyumi anxiously asks as soon as the pair start walking away from your room. “She’s traumatized, obviously. In time though, she may be fine. Your brother has apparently made it very obvious that he had every intention of doing this before though. I’m going to make something to help soothe her pain, but it’d be best if you do your part to keep your brother as far from her as possible.” Momo warned her, though not for the same reason the princess thinks.

Momo parts ways with the princess and finds a new, unwanted, surprise at the door to her tower. The heir to the throne, Shoto Todoroki. “Grand Sorceress Yaoyorozu. I need something from you, something that I’ll make sure you’re paid handsomely for.” “Tch, what would that be?” “Let’s step inside, there’s always prying ears out here.” With a tense nod Momo allows the brat to follow her into the entry room of her tower, telepathically commanding Jirou to watch from her shadow in case something goes wrong.

“Okay, we’re inside now, what do you want?” “Such an attitude, remember that I’m the heir to the throne. I’ll overlook that and chalk it up to you being tired. I want you to make a love potion. Or even a lust potion, I really don’t care which.” The bi-colored prince said as he carelessly distrubed knick-knacks and priceless vials. “No, I heard what you did and I’m not doing anything like that for you.” Shoto’s eyes narrowed and turned back toward her. “You dare defy your future king? While my father may have a soft spot for your talents as a witch, he would no doubt value my word over yours so think carefully before you say something that gets you burned at the stake.”

“Are you threatening me?” The prince shrugged his shoulders and stared at the sorceress. “Just giving you a little warning and another chance to give me the answer I want to hear.”

‘Damn him, damn him, damn him! There’s no way I’d ever make him anything. I know exactly who he wants it for too.’ Momo wanted to tear the prince’s smug grin off his face but she knew what the consequences would be so she gathers the last of her resolve and steels herself.

“Fine, but it doesn’t leave this tower. Whoever you use it on, they have to come here. The after effects can vary depending on how much is ingested. At best, the person will feel light headed and slightly dizzy. At worst, their heart will stop beating. I can monitor how much is administered if they’re here.” Majority of what Momo just said is false but the prince doesn’t need to know that.

“Fine, how long will it take?” “Four hours, it has to brew and th-“ “I don’t care about the specifics, just how long it takes. Just have it ready, witch.” The prince slams the door, rattling nearly every glass item in the room and leaving the sorceress and her familiar alone.

“What am I going to do now, Jirou?” Momo asked as she sank to her knees. “Well, you could always trick him. Simply brew a sleeping potion and make it look like she died. You know illusion magic so as long as she’s asleep then he wouldn’t know anything was up.” Her familiar said as she left her mistress’s shadow and reformed before her.

“Illusion magic only works as long as someone doesn’t try to touch the illusion or illusionist. If I don’t care about being thrown in the dungeon for treason and regicide then I might think about just blasting the brat into pieces.” Momo chuckled and stroked the demon cat’s fur as the two continued to throw out ideas.

“Well you could make a love potion. I’m sure a genius like you could figure out a way to make it a targeted love potion.” “Targeted?” “Yeah, make it so even if she looks at that creep all she’ll think about is you. Then you can blast him out the door and seal it and you and your maid can live your happy fairytale ending. Well until the King finds a stronger mage and kills you at least.” “Gee, I really love the positivity, Jirou. Though, part of what you said is a good idea.” Momo slowly stands and starts walking around her tower, gathering all the necessary ingredients for what she has planned.

~*~*~*~*

It’s been hours since you saw the sorceress and you’ve spent the time packing your few belongings so you’ll be ready to leave for the Iida manor as soon as possible. You pause your pacing as you hear the Head House-Maid out in the hall talking to someone, no it’d be more accurate to say she’s trying to get someone to leave rather than talk to them. You nearly scream when your door is slammed open by the one person you never want to see again; Prince Shoto Todoroki. “Your highness, she is no longer in your family’s service! Touch her and you’ll answer to the Iida family or wo-“ “I’m the next king, what will those low class nobles do to me?” The prince shoves the older woman away from him and grabs your wrist as you try to back away from him.

“I’m taking her to have her fixed. Just have her things burned, she won’t need them when I’m through.” Your heart is hammering in your ears at this point and you’re trying to get out of his grasp. “L-let me go!” He’s silent as he all but drags you through the halls until you reach the back gardens and turn towards the tower. “After this, you’ll be begging me to never leave you alone. I almost wish I could do this in front of the entire court, then everyone would know you’re mine.” “You’re insane, let me go right now!” The door to the door opens and your heart stops when you see the kind sorceress from earlier. Then you’re shoved forward into the tower, but the prince doesn’t follow.

You turn your head and see a pink translucent wall preventing the prince from entering after you. “What’s the meaning of this, witch? Let me in right now!” Shoto snarls as Momo calls someone down. “Jirou! Take her to my room until I’ve dealt with him.” To your surprise, it’s not a person that comes down but a purple cat. “Follow me, mistress has the comfiest bed ever. In fact if there’s a better one somewhere then I’ll actually eat cat food just to nap on it.” She says as you follow her, just to get away from Shoto, up a spiral staircase and into a room that almost rivals princess Fuyumi’s in terms of elegance.

You don’t have much time to appreciate the beauty of the room though, because as soon as you step into the room it seems the whole tower starts shaking. “W-what’s going on?!” You ask the cat as you fall to your knees by the bed. “We’re moving! Don’t worry your pretty little head about any of it.” She says like it’s normal for a whole tower to suddenly start shaking and apparently move.

Finally the shaking seems to stop and you tentatively sit up and look around. Quick steps are heard leading to the room and you see the sorceress run in. “Are you okay?” She lets out a sigh when you nod and sit on the bed. “Good, sorry I didn’t warn you beforehand. I just wanted to get us away before the little creep screamed for his daddy.” She steps towards you and plops down on the bed beside you. “Uhm thank you but where are we now? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” “Not at all. The safest place I get you to would be the Midoriya Kingdom. Well, more accurately, we’re in the Verdant Forest which is just a stone’s throw from the capital. If you were to tell the new king your story, then I’m positive he’d grant you amnesty which would protect you from the Todoroki family.”

You said nothing but just stared at the beautiful sorceress before throwing yourself onto her and hugging her as tears gather and burst free from your eyes. “Thank you! How could I ever repay you? You’ve basically saved my life!” You sob into her ample chest until she gently pushes you away and wipes some of your tears away. “You don’t have to repay me for having a heart. Although, it would greatly soothe my worries if you’d drink something. How about a calming cup of tea before I escort you to go see king Izuku?” You nod and wipe your face with your sleeve as she gets up and goes back downstairs.

~*~*~*

Momo smiled as she heard you talk to Jirou while she prepared your special tea. “Just three drops and some ground honeysuckle petals to cancel out the worst of the side effects.” She mutters to herself as she carefully drops and pours each item into the porcelain cup. Once it was ready she poured herself a normal cup of tea and cast an illusion spell over it, making it seem identical to the tampered cup.

With a deep breath and hopeful prayer, she took each cup in each hand and returned to her room. “Alright, be careful it’s hot. I wasn’t sure how you take your tea so I didn’t want to add any extra sugar or milk to it, just in case.” She says as she extends the cup in her left hand toward you. “Oh thank you. Honestly, I don’t drink tea all that much so I don’t have much of a preference.” Momo just lets a little hum as she retakes her seat beside you, sipping at her own cup and surreptitiously watching you as you carefully sip at your tea.

‘I’m sorry I had to do this to you, my dear, but in order for my plan to be a success then you must love me. If that pampered brat hadn’t tried to force himself on you then I’d have let our love bloom naturally.’ Her thoughts echo in her mind as she watches for any small change in you.

“Momo? Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?” The question catches the sorceress off guard, a blush forming on her face as she fully turns to look at you. The faint pink glow starting to overtake your natural eye color explains where the sudden compliment came from though. “N-no, uh well not from anyone I wanted to hear it from that is. Thank you, are you okay?” She asks as she gently takes your nearly empty cup from you and sets it to the side with hers. “I’m fine, just a little hot. It’s not just your face that’s beautiful, you know. You’ve got such soft looking hair too, and you’re my savior so that makes you super beautiful!” You exclaim and suddenly lean on her, almost like you’re drunk. Perhaps Momo had put too much of that love potion in your tea.

She’s trying to get you to lay on the bed and relax while she debates on going and brewing something to counteract the potion when you start undressing yourself. “Oh, uh I can leave if you want to change.” By now Momo is sure her face matches her crimson robes as she stands and attempts to leave the room, but she’s stopped by your nearly naked form latching onto her sleeve. “Please don’t go. I feel so hot, but when I touch you it doesn’t feel so bad.” Momo gulps and let’s you pull her back onto the bed. ‘I think you forgot that ground honeysuckle acts as a powerful aphrodisiac. You kept saying you needed to use dried petals and in the end mixed them up. At least you can reenact your dreams, mistress.’ Her familiar Jirou told her telepathically as she spied the demon slinking out the room, her tail conveniently shutting the door behind her.

‘Oh. Oh no.’ Momo begins to think but stops when you press your warm lips to hers, practically sitting in her lap. ‘Well maybe this isn’t so bad.’ She lightly caresses your sides as she leans back until you’re both laying on the plush bed. You’re panting as you pull back from Momo’s lips and press teasing kisses down her neck, distracting her from your hands that work on hiking her robe up to reveal her black lace panties. “W-wait, dear maybe we should wa-oh that’s, ahh” She moans as your fingers slip past the lace and go straight for her honeypot, teasing and stroking the wet folds without truly slipping inside.

“You’re so wet, you must have wanted me for so long. I hope that’s why, if not then I might die of a broken heart.” You breathlessly giggle and move down to her covered mounds, licking her flesh through the soft silk until you grow tired of the barrier and practically tear it off her. You remove your own under garments in a frenzy as you lay flat, or as flat as you can get, on Momo’s body and press your mouth against the swell of her breasts. Kissing, licking and giving harmless nibbles to the soft skin as your free hand fondles and kneads her breast. Despite her brain starting to overheat from your attention, Momo moves her hands up from your hips to your own breasts and pinches your teats. Momo drinks in your muffled moans with a lovesick smile as she wraps her legs around your hips and flips the two of you over.

“As nice as being topped by you is, I think it’s time I take some control. Ligatum in catenis*.” As soon as the words leave her plush lips, golden chains appear and wrap around your body. “Aw, no fair! My ex-girlfriend always let me be on top.” You pout and a spark of jealousy threatens to ignite in Momo but she lets it fade off. After all she has you now, granted it’s not the exact way she wanted things to go, so anyone from your past is simply that.

“Don’t pout, my darling, if you’re a good girl tonight then maybe I’ll let you do whatever you want next time.” Momo purrs as she captures your lips in a passionate kiss, stealing your breath and words before you can even think of them.

Momo reluctantly pulls away from you and turns around on the bed, her face level with your bare pussy and hers hovering just out of your reach. “I fantasized how you taste every night, and now you’re here. Helpless and bound, and so needy.” Momo parts your folds, not yet touching you but just watching your hole tremble in anticipation and your gleaming juices coat your skin.

“Please please just do something! It hurts so bad!” You writhe as best you can under the magical chains before squeaking when the sorceress licks her way from your swelling clit to your tight rear. “I can’t have my love hurting, now can I? Oh but you taste more divine than I could have ever imagined.” She sighs before licking at your clit and easily slipping two of her fingers into your wet hole.

“Ahh, y-yes! Thank you, thank you!” You say as you try your hardest to reach up to her own pussy, the small rivulets running down her legs only teasing you. You whine and moan as the sorceress works magic on your clit and cunt, seeming to spell something with her tongue’s movements on your throbbing clit. She moves up, down, up, down, swirls around it, and repeats those same actions once more while her fingers gently scissor your insides until she can get another finger in.

More chains appear and hold your involuntarily twitching hips down to the bed as Momo curls her fingers and strokes your g-spot. “Naughty girl, maybe I need to distract you with something else if you can’t be still.” Momo says before she brings her wet mound down onto your waiting mouth, immediately moaning as you lick at her like a hungry kitten.

You hungrily lap at her gushing hole, breathing in her musk as you seek to return all the pleasure she’s giving you. You’re rewarded with the sound of the sorceress moaning and more of her tart yet sweet cream.

You two stay locked like that for some time, exchanging moans, sighs, and muffled cries for more. It isn’t until you’re fighting against the gold chains that Momo realizes you’re teetering on the precipice of your orgasm and she debates whether to pull away and let you cool down or be nice and let you finish. In the end though, she decides she doesn’t have it in her heart to do that to you, not yet at least. So she suckles harder on your clit while her fingers practically abuse your cunt.

Your spasms are nothing for your bindings as you shake and convulse under her ministrations, your juices coating her face and wrist as she slows her pace as you ride out the last few tremors before stilling. “You don’t mind finishing me off, do you darling?” The only answer Momo gets is a muffled moan before you sink your tongue into her once more.

Momo sighs and starts to sit up, using her knees to keep herself from completely sitting on you. It isn’t too long though before Momo can feel herself begin to crest on that edge, her magic waning as she starts to lose control. A yelp leaves her lips as your hands, now free from the chains, reach up to her tits and grope blindly.

As you suck, lick, pinch and prod at her body, Momo is thrown into the throes of her own orgasm and with a surprisingly loud moan from the sorceress you finally move from her pussy and sit up just in time to catch her as she falls back. “W-well, if you’re like that all the time then maybe I should let you take the reins.” She jokes with a shaky voice, her body still feeling aftershocks of pleasure.

“I’d like that, almost as much as I love you.” She can hear the smile in your voice and Momo almost forgets that it’s a manufactured love. Almost. “I love you too, so very much.” She says back, her hand covering yours as you two bask in each other’s presence.

* rough translation in Latin - tied in chains

[personasintro]

drunk over sober | ksj drabble

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; getting through the evening in his presence calls for help and that's why you decide to reach for one thing that could possibly get you through it, or maybe it helps you in a whole another way

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst (?), fluff, enemies to lovers au

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.5k+

𝒂/𝒏: commissioned by @xxxjkxux​, hope you like this! x

drunk over sober | sober now

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ☕️ | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

What did you do in your past life to deserve this? To deserve such an overly confident, snarky, cocky bastard to be in your life. Why couldn't your friends find a nice human being that is polite, friendly and modest? Not… him.

And the fact everyone is so okay with him acting like he owns everything just makes your blood boil even more. Why the hell did you even agree to come here in the first place? Oh yeah, because one of your friends Jimin, assured you he won't be here. But rather than be mad at Jimin for lying to you because well, your worst enemy – the epitome of evil is right here, you're actually more mad at his presence.

Or maybe because he's enjoying this night to the fullest, even has the decency to lift up his glass of wine at you as he cockily quirks up one of his brows and sends a smirk your way. You gape at him like a fish, features twisting to a deep scowl and a glare. But he looks even more amused at your obvious anger, living for it.

“Y'know, this glaring at him won't do anything.”

The melodic voice resounds next to you, your eyes moving from the devil himself to your friend who's looking at Seokjin amusingly before he looks at you with the same amused eyes. That's great! Even he's enjoying this. Are you the only one being miserable? Maybe you should leave this bar, leave the group of your friends to maybe open a bottle of wine for yourself.

“Don't talk to me,” you grit, trying to appear intimidating but it only makes Jimin chuckle which makes your brow twitch in irritation. “You lied to me. You told me he won't be here tonight.”

“I didn't lie,” Jimin clarifies, “He wasn't supposed to come but decided to tag along at the last minute.”

“Of course, he did,” you roll your eyes. “He likes to make my life miserable.”

Now it's Jimin's turn to roll his eyes, finding the hatred between you two pathetic and childish. You don't even know how it started. Seokjin always made you irritated from the moment you met him. You don't like overly confident men, thinking they can do anything and act however they like. Then he started to make fun of you, throwing snarky remarks your way ever since he noticed the way you clearly wasn't very fond of his presence. And it quickly turns into bickering whenever the two of you are in the same room.

He has already managed to comment on your outfit the second he saw you.

“This is not your grandma's funeral, Y/N.”

How dare he bring your poor grandma into this? You know he did that just to annoy you, that doesn't make it okay.

To be fair, you did tell him something back. “Oh really? Says the man who's wearing his dad's clothes.”

It's certain you made your friends laugh, both of you did. They always have fun whenever it comes down to your bickering. Seokjin didn't even look offended by your comment, just smirked your way as he gulped down more wine. That pisses you even more. He barely shows annoyance or any negative reaction. He always remains calm, amused and cocky. It pisses you off.

And of course, he doesn't look as if he's wearing his dad's clothes. He looks far from it. He might be close to his thirties, but he looks amazing. But surely, he knows that. Everyone knows that – even you. But you'd rather have your arm cut off than to admit it out loud.

“You both are freaking stubborn. Whatever the two of you have going on, you need to sort it out.”

“Sort it out,” you scoff, “As if that's possible.”

“It is,” Jimin says, a grin making its way to his lips. “I feel a certain tension here.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you while you frown, glaring at him for a moment before you let his words sink in and you realize what he's hinting at.

“Oh, fuck no!” you exclaim, wanting nothing else than to punch him for even mentioning that but you know you'd feel awful later. “Y'know what? I won't let him get to me. I'm gonna have fun.” you say lightly, your tone awfully fake but you go along with it as you gulp the rest of your wine.

“Now, I'm gonna get some more.” you inform him, Jimin's mouth is opening.

“That's not what I--”

But you're already gone, making your way towards the bar to order more wine but not before you brush past Seokjin giving him the nastiest glare. However, it only makes him chuckle, turning around for a moment to look at you amusingly as he's met with your back and swaying ass.

You usually make good decisions.

You always think through things because usually, you're a responsible person.

Usually – that's the key word because you're certainly not proving yourself to make good decisions. As much as you'd like to blame it on Suckjin (yes, because he really sucks), it's your own fault for deciding that drinking might be the best idea for how to get through the night. Part of you wanted to leave as soon as you saw his dumb and handsome face but you haven't seen your friends for two weeks and you wouldn't give him that satisfaction to show him how much his presence affects you. Or more like it annoys you.

Who are you kidding. He certainly affects you more than you'd like to admit, if he didn't – you wouldn't keep ordering wine (and probably going bankrupt because you'd save a lot of money by buying a whole bottle of wine, rather than buying one glass every ten to fifteen minutes). However, you're in a bar and it's quite obvious you pay more than you'd if you just bottle an alcohol from a convenience store.

Also, if he wouldn't affect you that much you'd listen to your friends' worries and advice to slow down. You did the right opposite. You feel like you started ordering even more frequently.

But most importantly, if he wasn't affecting you, you certainly wouldn't throw up into the toilet of the ladies restroom.

And the fact you embarrassed yourself in front of (not just your friends) but also everyone in a bar while running to the ladies with a hand over your mouth, to keep the vomit inside until you're free to let it out.

Oh, fuck so fucking embarrassing.

Your knees ache as you hug the toilet, not caring about possible bacterias laying on the toilet seat. If you were sober, you'd actually be so disgusting.

When one of your female friends comes to check on you, you rasp out that you're okay and will be out in a few minutes. You weren't.

You've been here for god knows how long but considering how many women already went to use the restroom, you must've been here for quite some time. Luckily, you stayed quiet and didn't throw up while anyone else was here.

Your stomach is uncomfortably clenched reminding you that you're about to have a wild awakening in the morning full of regret, you know you emptied everything in your stomach. You've a weird sour taste in your mouth, causing you to groan disgustedly at yourself. Once you flush the toilet for like the fifth time by now, you get the courage to walk out and check your appearance in the mirror.

You look awful. You also feel like it.

You rinse your mouth a few times, feeling lucky that no one has decided to come here to see your head in a sink while spitting out the water to get rid of that awful taste of vomits in your mouth. Your make-up is slightly smudged but it's actually not that awful once you wipe your undereyes and the smudged mascara there.

Once you're ready, knowing you've to walk out of those doors to face the others (and by that, you don't just mean your friends but also everyone that witnessed you clearly ready to throw up), you brace yourself and open the door.

You're startled to be met with Seokjin leaning against the wall, standing there just on the opposite side of you as your eyes meet right away. He sighs, awfully similar to sighing in relief, as he takes your appearance and eyes you up and down.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, straightening himself.

“Like shit,” you answer honestly, grabbing the side of your throbbing head. “I think I'm still drunk.” you tell him, stumbling when a woman makes her way towards the restroom and you've to move to let her in since you've been standing right in front of the door.

Seokjin stretches his arms towards you, getting a faint hold of your wrists. HIs brows are furrowed while he stares at you.

“Come on, let's get you home.” he says, taking a few steps closer to you as you glare at him.

“You?” Is the only thing you let out of your mouth, ready to resist but Seokjin holds you close since you seem to have barely any balance.

You might've thrown up everything in your stomach, but your head throbs and you're still very much drunk.

“Yes,” he answers simply, “Everyone else went home. I told them I'd get you home safely.”

You scoff, not believing your friends. So, they just left you here? With him? They know you don't like him! The hell, you hate him! They know all of it and yet, they left you here with him.

Little do you know, Seokjin promised to take care of you. He was met with a few skeptical stares from your friends but Jimin assured them it's okay. The smirk Jimin gave Seokjin just as he was walking out of the bar didn't go unnoticed by him.

And here he is. Has been waiting for half an hour for you. He did get worried, wondering if you hadn't passed out on the floor or something and had this urge to just walk into the ladies restroom, knowing that might've got him kicked out of this bar.

Luckily, you walked out of there before he really decided to do it.

As much as you hate Seokjin, and doing a stupid decision, you know the smartest option for you is to just go with him. It's dangerous to go alone and even though you want to prove to him you don't need him or his help, you kind of do and it definitely helps to get you home safely, just like he promised to you and his friends.

So you huff under your breath, brushing past him but saying nothing in return but you know he's right behind you, feeling his presence following you out of a bar.

“Oh shit, I haven't paid for my drinks.” you exclaim once you make it outside.

Thank god, no one stared at you while walking out of a bar. You already feel embarrassed as it is.

“I took care of it,” Seokjin tells you, phone attached to his ear as he ignores your suspicious eyes and calls a cab for the two of you.

You groan, feeling your legs getting weak so you sit on a curb, hugging your arms as you feel a chilly breeze on your exposed arms.

After he makes the call, hanging up with a polite “Thank you, we'll be waiting”, he's joining you and sitting beside you as you eye him suspiciously again.

He probably feels your eyes on him, but he stares ahead watching cars passing by.

“Why would you pay for me?” you ask, voice drowsy as you keep your tired eyes on him.

He turns his head to you, staring at you for a moment as he lets out a chuckle. “I expect you to pay me back. I'm no charity.” he scoffs causing you to scoff back.

“Don't worry,” you murmur, feeling angry for some reason even though of course, you'd pay him back. You wouldn't let him pay for such an expensive wine, or even if it was a cheap one, just so he could use it one day against you. You don't need his money.

But deep down, you're glad he took care of it so you could just walk out of the bar and not spend any longer in it than necessarily. What you're angry about is the way he reacted. And here you thought he's being weird by the whole taking care of you thing. He's still the same idiot.

Your thoughts are cut off by him taking off his suit and throwing it over your small figure. You instantly feel the heat from it, knowing it's his body that made it warm. You open your mouth, staring at him surprisingly as he chuckles at your reaction.

“Well, don't look at me so surprised.”

“I am surprised,” you point out, “Thanks though.”

“What? I didn't hear you?”

You look at him again, opening your mouth but once you see the corner of his mouth twitching, you know he heard you and is just making you say it again.

“Your mistake.” you huff.

You don't know for how long you sit there waiting for the cab, but you feel yourself getting more and more tired, looking for a place to lean your head against which happens to be Seokjin's shoulder. You're too out of it to check out his reaction or realize what you just did.

His shoulder feels nice. The one you kept making fun of him, actually you made fun of both of his shoulders. Suddenly, you start feeling guilty for it and you blame you being drunk for it because you're already opening your mouth.

“I'm sorry for making fun of your shoulders,” you mutter, yawning sleepily. “They feel nice.”

Seokjin laughs, actually it's something between a laugh and a chuckle but he finds your confession and apology funny nevertheless.

“I know you secretly love them.” he teases you, causing you to groan in response. Oh god, you're so out of it.

“I hate you secretly.” you inform him, causing him to snicker.

“It's not that big of a secret.” he points out, making you chuckle for some reason. He's right. It's quite obvious.

“You hate me too, don't make me feel guilty.”

“I don't hate you,” he tells you, sounding serious for a second before he chuckles. “You just can't take some teasing.”

You lift your head up quickly, groaning when you feel it spin as your vision gets blurry. You glare at Seokjin, seeing double – two Seokjins – but you glare at him nevertheless.

“Teasing?” you exclaim, “That's not teasing! That's pissing me off and you know it.” you snap but lay your head back when it starts to hurt even more. He lets you, scoffing a little.

And he stays quiet, letting the distant sounds of cars and people chatting that walk past you be the only sound between you two. You're on a verge of actually falling asleep, closing your eyes for the first time since fighting the urge to close them since you laid your head on Seokjin's shoulder.

But yet again, Seokjin manages to open his mouth again and for some reason, you're not as annoyed as you'd normally be.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

It's so random, you don't get why he's asking you this but you're also very drunk to put too much thought into it.

You let his question linger in the air and in your mind, pursing your lips slightly in a silent thought before you come up with a quite sober answer. “I think everyone is in your life for a reason.”

“Oh, so I'm in your life for a reason.” he teases you and if you looked up at him, you'd see him wiggling his brows.

“Yeah, to piss me off apparently.” you tell him, getting to hear a breathy laugh from him.

“You piss me off too,” he says, sounding both amusing and accusing at the same time. Maybe even offended too. “But I like you.” he admits.

It's like a slap to your face and thanks to your drunkenness, it takes a while to fully understand his words but once you do, you whip your head in his direction while looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You what?”

“Come on, isn't it obvious?” he laughs almost bitterly, but keeps his tone light and even when he looks at you with his dark brown eyes, you see nothing but softness in them.

Okay, you're really drunk.

“Do you think I'd take care of you, borrowed you my suit to keep you warm and waited in front of the restroom for half an hour just because I hate you?”

You're speechless, not fully realizing that Kim Seokjin, the Kim Seokjin that makes fun of you whenever you're around, just confessed that he doesn't hate you. And admitted verbally and loudly what he's done for you so far. Even though you didn't ask for it, you know deep down you appreciate it.

“I don't understand…” you mumble, “What about all the teasing and annoying me?”

“It's just teasing, it's not my fault you can't take a joke.” he snorts, causing you to send him a glare. It's just a small confirmation that yes, he still acts like a dick but the difference is, that you're not overly mad over it and don't want to slap his handsome face.

“You and I have a different concept of a joke,” you scoff, “I don't like those jokes.”

“Alright, no more teasing and jokes,” he says, causing you to raise your brows at him lazily. You don't believe him. “Don't look at me like that, I'm serious. And just a reminder, you haven't been going easy on me too. I'm just lucky I have thick skin and can take a joke.”

You want to have some smartass response, to say something back about how he's making it seem like you're some kind of a prude that can't joke around, because you can. You're quite a fun person to be around. He just doesn't know that side of you because you just straightass go into an attack mode whenever he is around.

And as your drunk mind thinks about it, you do feel an obvious guilt slowly building but you're too drunk to fully tell him what you think. But you try your best, muttering the first thing that comes to your mind.

“I'm sorry to joke about your shoulders,” you almost whisper, pouting. “I like them. They're comfy. At least this left is.”

That's right, you've been leaning on his left shoulder only.

Seokjin snorts at that before he erupts laughing, causing you to cringe at the loud sound close to your ear but you find yourself smiling. He catches the sight of your smile, his laugh slowly dying as he keeps his lips stretched into a similar one.

“I can assure you my right shoulder is just as comfortable,” he remarks, causing you to snort as you nod at him. “I don't know what's up with you and my shoulders. You said far more mean things about my own personality than my appearance.”

You cringe at that, feeling the guilt even more. Perhaps it's the tone in his voice that makes you think that you making fun of his personality rather than appearance somehow affected him too.

“I'm sorry,” you murmur, hiding your face back in his shoulder once he looks at you, chuckling as you not so sneakily hide your shy face. “You said mean things to me too.”

“I'm sorry,” he says back, louder and more confident than when you said it. “I think we both have something to feel guilty about.”

You just nod, muttering something about how long it's taking for the cab to arrive. Seokjin is not sure if you did it to change the topic purposely, or you're just so drunk that you mind drifts elsewhere. Nevertheless, he coaxes you to stand up as he helps you, not minding the way your body practically stumbles into his in the middle of it. He has a tight grip on you, tucking a few restless strands of your hair behind your ear. Yeah, he commented that too. Something about how having your hair in a bun makes you look like you're in a job meeting rather than hanging out with your friends in a bar.

He cringes at that, having the need to apologize for that but you seem distracted by something else and that something else happens to be his lips. You're shameless, maybe you don't realize that you're staring and that he obviously sees you… but you just keep staring.

“I'm sure I made fun of your lips too.” you drunkenly murmur, causing Seokjin to breathe out a chuckle.

“You did.” he confirms your suspicion, causing you to sigh.

“I like them.” you tell him honestly, eyes lazily closing and smile stretching to the same lazy and drunk smile. And you bluntly reach towards them, your point finger tracing the bottom lip.

Seokjin feels the tip of his ears heating up, wondering how it must look like to someone that just walks by. You're in front of a bar with you drunk while tracing his lips as if it's the most normal and common thing ever.

“You know,” Seokjin starts, your finger no longer in front of his mouth. “I think I prefer you drunk over sober.”

That makes you snort, chuckling slightly as you lean towards him and bump your forehead into his chest. Wow, it's hard. You stay like that, trying to ignore the throb in your head.

“I think I prefer you when I'm drunk than when I'm sober.” you admit, causing him to laugh, hands respectfully on your back as you keep swaying slightly.

Suddenly, you've this urge to look at him because god knows if you'll ever have that opportunity. So you do, finding him already looking at you.

“But I wish you were sober now, though.” he admits too, your brows furrowing in a confusion for a moment.

“Why?”

“So I could kiss you.” he bluntly responds, your eyes widening and for a moment, you feel like you sobered up. That's not true, though. You just feel like it.

“You--you want to kiss… me?” you point at yourself, wondering if this is some kind of sick joke of his, so he can laugh about it later.

But he looks honest, staring at you with a deep glance. It makes you swallow dryly.

“Yeah,” he nods, “But you're drunk. And I don't want to take advantage of that.”

You stare at him cutely, your lips pouting without you even realizing and your pupils are big and waiting, causing him to grab your face gently. He traces his thumb over your lips, similar to what you did just a few minutes ago while tracing his own plush lips.

You called him Kylie Jenner look-alike if you remember correctly. God, you were such a bitch.

You like his lips.

“I'm not that drunk,” you stupidly protest, causing Seokjin's brows to raise in shock from your sudden interest in him kissing you. But he quickly shakes himself out of it and chuckles at your eagerness.

“How about a compromise?” he asks, catching your interest as you nod without thinking of it.

It's until he leans towards you, face just a few inches from yours. You can feel the heat coming off his breath, warming your face while your heart seems to be the only thing sober and awake.

His lips are so close, he is so close. You can smell his incredible and expensive cologne making you almost whimper in his direction but before he can take another inch closer to you, you realize something and panic.

“Wait, wait!” you exclaim, catching him off guard as he stares at you surprised while pulling away slightly, giving you some space as your hand is already on your mouth.

Are you about to throw up? Oh fuck, he'd be so embarrassed if you throw up at the idea of him kissing you.

“I threw up!” you inform him which makes him snort because he obviously knows that.

He heard weird noises that undoubtedly came from you while he was waiting for you.

But he doesn't tell you that to not make you embarrassed. He's not that big of a dick, even if you think he maybe is.

“But I rinsed my mouth!” you quickly jump to say, not wanting him to think like you stink or something. You made sure your mouth doesn't smell like vomits. The thought of him kissing you while you threw up just twenty minutes ago makes you want to throw up again. In your defense, you did rinse your mouth a lot and you no longer can smell or taste vomits in your mouth.

He chuckles, eyes scrunched as he inches closer to you and you almost protest (because just in case, you'd die of embarrassment) but you're taken aback when his lips find your forehead instead of your lips. He gives you a soft kiss there, smiling down at you as you gape at him with an open mouth.

This is the compromise he talked about, but you're too drunk to realize that.

“Come on, the cab is here.” he says, taking your hand in his as he leads you to a cab.

Once you both sit there, you give the cab driver your address before you allow yourself to finally relax and feel something soft under your butt rather than a hard pavement. You're not too shy to scoot closer to Seokjin, even though you've been glued to him from the moment you made it into the cab. You let your head rest over his right shoulder this time, commenting that it's comfortable too that makes him laugh.

It's the last thing he hears from you because he soon realizes you fell asleep, cuddling up to him. He's not sure if he'll be able to wake you up once you make it to your apartment building and he has no plans trying to get into your purse, so he sighs and tells the driver to drive you to his apartment instead. It's not far from yours anyway and the cab driver is more than happy to charge him for it.

But he doesn't care about money. If he did, he wouldn't pay that much money over the wine you drank and threw up all of it in the same day.

He wasn't joking when he said he wants you to pay back, but maybe now, he'll live without you paying him back. He can think of it as if it's redemption by burying the hatchet.

And as he glances at your peaceful sleeping figure that still is very much glued to his warm body, he knows it might be just worth it.

He just hopes you won't kill him in the morning once you find out you're at his place. And maybe, just maybe, he hopes a lot that you'll remember everything in the morning.

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

Chicken Shop Date - Dele Alli x Reader

Masterlist

summary: In which the reader is a famous actress and gets invited on Chicken Shop Date, only to find out that her friend Amelia has set her up with a very famous footballer.

When your management contacted you about appearing on Chicken Shop Date you were obviously pumped. You loved Amelia and you thought she was absolutely hilarious.

The two of you had met each other at a birthday party and immediately hit it off. It had been a while since you had seen her though so you were excited to catch up with her.

Being an actress came with many great opportunities. Since starring in a Netflix Series the offers just didn’t stop rolling in. It was amazing and you were incredibly thankful that you had been given the chance to do so many awesome things.

You had won an Emmy, hosted SNL and attended the Oscars all in one year. So to say that you were grateful was clearly and understatement. But it also got quite tiring to travel all the time and meet all these new people.

So doing something like the Chicken Shop Date felt like a vacation. You already knew Amelia and the Chicken Shop Date wasn‘t a normal interview. You could do the thing you loved the most; play a role.

So when you arrived on set, everyone was already getting ready to film. The set was basically just a Chicken Shop that was emptied out and Amelia was already standing there in some fluffy blue jacket and bright orange pants.

You smiled as she greeted you with a big hug.

„Y/n!“ she cheered, catching everyone’s attention „How does it feel to be back?“

„Great!“ you giggled, looking at the blonde woman as your assistant started talking to Amelias manager, leaving the two of you alone for a bit „Thanks for inviting me! I‘m so excited.“

Amelia and you talked for a little before you were ordered to sit down. It felt quite funny to just sit in a regular chicken shop with all these light and cameras pointed at you. But then again, that was the catch of the whole thing.

Food was set down in front of you and the last few details were adjusted. Amelia had ordered you to just act along and go with it and they were gonna cut as needed. You obviously agreed thinking this was gonna be easy.

„Action!“

„Y/n.“ Amelia started out with a straight face and you already had to try not to laugh. This was gonna be harder than you thought.

„Amelia.“ you managed to say in the same monotone way.

„It’s nice that you had the time to come today.“ Amelia said as you tried to quietly open your can of soda, failing as the sparkling drink made the loudest pop.

„Could you not interrupt me?“ Amelia then said, face still as cold as the night as you mouthed a small „sorry.“

Looking at the camera for help as Amelia cleared her throat.

„Well, as I was saying.“ Amelia sighed, folding her hands on the table „Amelia and Y/n. Y/n and Amelia…“

You raised your eyebrows confused at were she was heading.

„I mean we‘ve been through this.“ Amelia lied, pressing her lips together.

„We have?“ you asked, taking a bit of your already cold fries.

„Yes. And I just don’t think we fit that well.“ Amelia stood up and you watched her with a baffled expression. Never had you seen her do something like that on an Episode.

„So I thought… I‘d just try to set you up with an old friend of mine.“

And after that everything went super fast. Amelia pointed at the glass door where a guy, dressed in the fanciest outfit and followed by his own camera team, entered and made his way straight towards you.

You gasped, immediately recognizing who it was. It was none other than Dele Alli.

Amelia must have known that Dele and you had a little awkward run in a long time ago.

You had attended a party, which you had no idea had been hosted by Dele. So you and your friends got wasted and next thing you knew you were dancing on top of a pool table.

When this guy came up and told you, it would be wiser if you got down or you’d hurt yourself. Well, your drunken self told him to fuck off and not to tell you what to do or not do.

Of course Dele was pissed after trying to be nice and getting cursed at and told you that, in fact, this was his pool table and his house.

The whole thing eventually resulted in Dele kicking you out and the two of you both having eachother as the „the rudest celebrity you have ever met“ story.

After time though, you did have to say that maybe your nineteen year old drunken self had been a litte disrespectful. But he still also didn’t seem like the most chill person.

Well now he was standing infront of you as you gasped at Amelia, who was behind the camera with her hand over her mouth.

You looked up at Dele, who had changed quite a bit from when you had last seen him. But he still had the same smirk that he always had.

„Hello.“ Dele bluntly held out his hand to you, making you shake it with an awkward smile.

„Well, please sit down.“  you gestured to the red leather bench opposite you as Dele finally took a seat in the booth.

Did he not even remember you? You truly hoped so. That would make this whole thing less awkward for you.

„So you‘re Y/n Y/L/N!“ Dele smiled, opening the boxes of food in front of him as he confirmed the theory that he had already forgotten the incident many years ago.

„Yes.“ you nodded, taking a sip of your soda „And you‘re Dele Alli.“

„I am.“ he grinned, now also opening his soda before holding it out to you „Cheers?“

„Cheers.“ you smiled, already you could tell he was a charming guy „So you play football right?“

„Yes.“ he nodded, taking a bite of his chicken and scrunching up his nose, it was obviously cold and tasteless by now „And you are an actress.“

„Mhm.“ you watched him, wipe his mouth with a napkin „So we obviously have nothing to talk about.“

Dele laughed at your bold statement before furrowing his brows „Well that depends on how you look at it.“

„Tell me.“

„See I have reportedly gotten quite bad at football and you have yet to star in a good movie.“ Dele smirked and you tried your hardest not to look offended.

„So you want to talk about sucking?“ you asked, acting along.

Dele covered his mouth as he tried not to laugh. When you realized what was so funny you also blushed. You shook your head; how childish was he?

„Yes… I’d love to talk about… sucking.“ he wiggled his eyebrows, making you scrunch your nose in disgust.

„So what makes you say that I suck?“ you then asked, crossing your arms as you watched Dele casually chew on his chips.

„Well, your new Netflix show.“ he sighed, leaning back in his seat also crossing his arms „It's just after having to see your face for over eight hours, I was happy to see your character die.“

„Did you just spoiler my show?“ you asked, raising your eyebrows but keeping a straight face. Trying not to be offended by his statement.

„Sorry not sorry.“

„Well…“ you sighed, folding your hands as you thought about what to say „I’m also glad they have started to cut your time at Tottenham. I appreciate not having to see you miss the goal for ninety minutes straight anymore.“

Dele smirked, nodding as he probably deserved that one.

„But…“ you added, putting your finger up „I do have to say; back in the day when you were actually good, you had the best celebration.“

With that you held up both of your hands before putting them together and holding them infront of your face.

Dele burst out into laughter before covering his mouth. You grinned as you tried to act oblivious.

„That’s the Jlingz one.“ Dele then nodded, knowing you did that one purpose „Mine goes like this.“

Dele held up his hand in a swift and smooth movement as he showed you his legendary „eye“ celebration.

You tried to also do it, only now realizing it was actually pretty difficult and failing miserably.

„How do you do that?“ you giggled, now truly curious as you looked at his mischievous grin.

„Wait…“ Dele stood up, now standing next to you „Can I?“

„Sure.“ you gestured him to sit down as you slid over, allowing him space. Dele sat down next to you and you had to admit this made you kinda nervous.

You looked at his face from the side, wondering what he was planning to do.

„Give me your hand.“ he then mumbled and you hesitated for a second before putting your hand in the palm of his.

Dele started to form your fingers, showing you exactly how he did it. He was being incredibly gentle, which you thought was cute. You gasped when realizing how easy it was.

„And then…“ he held his right hand up to his eye while his left one was still holding yours „You have to look at the camera.“

You also held up your hand, thinking it was not gonna look anything like Deles. The both of you stared at the camera, having completely forgotten you were being filmed for a second.

„This kinda hurts.“ you giggled, shaking out your hand as Dele sat down opposite you again „I still think that Jesses is the greatest but I applaud you for having incredibly flexible fingers.“

„Ouch.“ Dele gasped, holding his hand to his heart „But that everybody is how you get to hold a ladies hand.“

He winked at the camera, making you roll your eyes before continuing to munch on some of your food.

„You’re so full of yourself aren’t you?“ you blurted out, looking him straight in the eyes.

„Am I?“ he furrowed his eyebrows, before leaning over the table „As I remember it it was a certain someone that told me these exact words; Who do you think you are to tell me to get off a pool table?“

He remembered? You internally cringed, immediately blushing as the embarrassing memories flashed through your brain. You wanted to kill your younger self for being so out of control and doing stupid stuff.

„Well… I do…“ you stuttered, Dele obviously having the biggest grin on his face. Knowing the whole world was gonna want to know the pool table story from now on „I don’t remember you being that nice about it as well.“

„What?“ Dele squealed, looking super confused „I was super nice. I didn’t want you to get hurt and asked you super kindly. You were the rude one.“

„You kicked me out!“ you exclaimed, realizing everyone on set was probably extremely confused that the two of you seemed to know eachother.

„Because you were incredibly rude!“ he laughed, making you join him as you realized he was probably right.

„Okay…“ you sighed, holding out your hand towards him „I admit, I was a bit rude and I sincerely apologize.“

Dele smirked before taking your hand and shaking it.

„Apology's accepted.“

„Thank you so much Amelia.“ you hugged the blonde girl, a big smile on your face „This was incredibly fun.“

„Thank you Y/n!“ Amelia exclaimed as people around you were packing everything up „This episode is going to be hilarious. People will absolutely love it.“

„Well I hope so.“ you looked at Dele, who was standing across the room getting his mic taken off „You really pulled that one.“

Amelia smirked, looking at you knowingly „I think you guys have great chemistry.“

„Hmm I don‘t know…“ you furrowed your brows before shaking your head „No It’s probably a bad idea. He‘s a footballer, you know what they say about…“

„And you’re an actress.“ Amelia remarked, shrugging her shoulders „I mean both come with their reputation but at the end of the day you can’t let that keep you from getting to know someone, right?“

You nodded, agreeing with what Amelia was saying and just when you wanted to add something you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around to look at Deles face. The guy shifting on his feet nervously as he gave you a small smile.

„I'll let you guys alone for a minute.“ Amelia smiled, walking away and showing you a thumbs up.

„That was fun.“ Dele now spoke up, clearly not knowing what to say.

„Yes it was.“ you smiled, trying to reassure him. His incredibly confident persona suddenly having vanished.

„I’m sorry for telling the story.“ he chuckled and you just shrugged your shoulders „Ah it is what it is! It’s just the consequences of my bad decisions.“

„I actually wanted to ask you.“ Dele looked at the floor for a second before sighing „While this Chicken Shop Date was incredibly fun. It’s not really my idea of a great date. So I was wondering if you’d like... to maybe go out with me sometime?“

"I'd love too."

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Coffee Shop Kisses

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Request: something soft with Yelena from @bright-molina

Summary: After moving back to her small Ohio hometown, the reader bumps into an old friend at her favorite coffee shop.

Warnings: none ?

A/N: Happy incredibly belated Birthday Bianca!!! Sorry this took so long for me to write but I really hope you like it!! This fic has everything: the gays, some light pinning, and chai lattes !

Masterlist

___

You couldn’t believe you were back in your small Ohio hometown. When you moved away after high school it was never your intention to come back but clearly, fate didn’t have the same plans as you drove through your childhood neighborhood.

It was nostalgic, driving through the familiar streets despite the changes in the neighborhood since your childhood. While the houses had mostly remained the same, you knew many of their occupants had changed. The Browns no longer lived in the house two doors down from yours, having retired to Florida not long after their children had moved out, and many other family’s you’d known growing up had followed suit. Others had downsized to smaller houses in other parts of the city, no longer needing the extra space. Now the neighborhood was filled with new families, young parents taking advantage of the location to raise their children.

Still, the atmosphere was largely the same, and if you let yourself you could almost imagine that the kids playing in the front yards and the street or biking through the neighborhood, calling out to friends as they passed, were the kids you’d grown up with.

It was strange, being back home. It felt stranger still to call it “home.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall back into a routine, despite the lingering nostalgia. You woke up every morning with just enough time to get ready and drive downtown to work, if you were lucky you’d end up with a few extra minutes to stop into your favorite coffee shop from your teenage years, which was conveniently located a couple doors down from your office. It was simple, sure, but it worked for you.

On the weekends you always made a point to walk to that downtown coffee shop with a book or some other activity, preferring the ambiance and the subtle noise of the building and its other patrons over the still silence of your house. Plus they had amazing drinks so you really couldn’t lose.

Normally you enjoyed taking in the hustle and bustle of the small town around you as people completed their weekly errands, but that day you were lost in your head as you walked along the sidewalk. It wasn’t as if you were thinking about anything in particular (when reflecting back later you’d merely blame it on having had a long week at work), but rather than enjoy the people watching as you normally would, you let them all pass you by without a single glance, all the way down the street and into the line at your coffee shop. You ordered your usual without much fanfare, still having the presence of mind to drop your change into the tip jar on the counter. It wasn’t until you had gotten your drink that you were thrust out of your thoughts, quite literally.

You had only just turned around from the counter, about to start scanning the cafe for a seat when you were knocked to the ground, your drink spilling in your hands.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” Disoriented and still in a haze, the thick Russian accent of the woman who had spoken caught your attention.

A hand reached down into your line of sight and you took it gratefully, managing to keep the pitiful drops of unspilled chai latte in your cup as you were pulled to your feet.

“Let me buy you a new drink,” she offered though you barely heard her.

Now that you were back on your feet you got a better look at the woman who had bumped into you. She was of average height and had her blonde hair pulled into a double ponytail. You didn’t know any Russians but you could’ve sworn you’d met before.

“Do I know you?” You blurted out before you could think and the other woman blinked at you in surprise, brows lifting slightly.

“Perhaps,” she shrugged, “I used to live around here when I was younger.”

You narrowed your eyes at that, certain you would’ve remembered growing up alongside a Russian family, everyone you remembered was as American as they come. It was a small town in Ohio, after all.

“So did I,” you spoke slowly, still trying to ponder it out in your head. “Over on Brown.”

Her eyes narrowed at that, now scrutinizing you as well.

“I grew up on State Street.”

That’s when it clicked for you. You remembered them; family of four, two daughters. Natasha used to ride her bike down your street all the time which meant the woman in front of you must be…

“Yelena?”

“You remember me?”

“Yeah, holy shit! Your sister rode her bike through my mom’s flowers one time by accident, pissed her off for the whole summer. Plus, we went to preschool together.”

“Wait, Y/N Y/L/N?”

“In the flesh,” you replied, spreading your arms out dramatically.

Yelena took that as an invitation to really study you then, eyes flitting up and down as she fully took you in.

“You grew up quite nicely,” she spoke, tone appreciative and you found yourself blushing.

“I- I could say the same thing about you,” you stumbled over your words, feeling flustered. “I don’t remember you being Russian.”

You mentally cursed yourself for once again blurting something out before you could even think about it.

Yelena laughed at that and you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling at the sound. She had a cute laugh. It was fitting.

“Yes, well, my ‘family' and I were actually part of a Russian spy organization, sent to infiltrate a nearby SHIELD facility for some information, so,” she shrugged and you laughed at first, assuming she was joking before you realized she wasn’t laughing along.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Why would I lie?”

You fumbled around with your words at that, unable to come up with a proper response but feeling as though you needed to say something anyway.

“How about I buy you a drink and you tell me about it?” You finally settled on saying and Yelena’s brows lifted again in surprise.

“Sure, but I’m buying the drinks. I owe you for spilling your first one.”

You nodded in agreement, somehow having forgotten all about your spilled drink in the excitement of reconnecting with an old friend. An old friend who was very attractive, if you were being fully honest with yourself.

With new drinks ordered and retrieved, the two of you made your way to a small table by the front window of the cafe. True to your agreement, Yelena explained to you that her “family” when she’d lived in Ohio wasn’t actually her family at all, the entire thing fabricated for their mission, and that after their success she continued to work for the organization before finally getting out as an adult. She skimmed on a lot of the details but you got the sense that the entire ordeal was traumatic for her so you didn’t press. Though, you were quite amazed that the woman across from you (and the tiny blonde girl you’d played dolls with as a kid) was a former spy and assassin. In comparison, your own life story was much less exciting, though you guessed it also held much less trauma as well. Still, Yelena asked and she listened intently as you explained how you’d wound up back in your hometown all these years later.

After that, the conversation seemed to flow seamlessly from one topic to another, and it was so nice to talk to a friend and catch up that you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you went to take a sip from your long-forgotten chai and found it ice cold. You checked your phone and were surprised to see that nearly two hours had passed and while you were planning on spending much longer at the cafe anyway, it still caught you off guard.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I keeping you from something?” Yelena asked, having noticed you checking the time.

“No!” You rushed to reassure her before flushing slightly at the knee-jerk reaction. “No, I just hadn’t realized how much time has passed. It’s been really nice to see you.”

“It’s been nice to see you too, perhaps we can do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that a lot.” You tried to fight the heat that you felt rushing to your cheeks once more. You weren’t sure if she meant it the same way you did.

“Me too,” she replied softly, ducking her head so that her face was out of view. “I actually do have to get going but maybe we can meet here again next week?”

“Absolutely!” You nodded, trying not to seem too eager and failing miserably. “It’s a date.”

Once again the words slipped out on their own accord and you were left scrambling to do damage control.

“I- I mean like, y’know-”

“A date is good,” Yelena cut you off with a smirk, though you could’ve sworn you could see your own nerves reflected in her eyes.

“A date then,” you agreed, flashing a nervous smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N.” She stood from her chair with a smile, pausing on her way to the door to press a quick peck to your cheek, and then she was gone.

You sat there, still as a statue, for quite some time afterward, your fingertips lightly grazing over where Yelena’s lips had been moments before. You really loved this coffee shop.

[loveisalwaystheanswer]

Could you give us a short fanfic? Of how each of Shelby family members react or thought of once they meet Grace?

p.s love your blog!

Hi anon!

Sorry to disappoint you but I'm only good at rebloging such things :) I write short scenes (scratches of them) from time to time like this for example. I really love do it!

Because I didn't quite get it right about which point at the show's timeline you're talking about: s1 or pre-wedding time, then I'll try to answer from both perspectives.

S1 events are very obvious about this matter of fact. Arthur is a little attracted to Grace (that glances at her ass in the backroom of The Garrison) but surely he understands that Grace is out of his league. So he doesn't push it any further. John doesn't think of Grace as a woman at all (Esme keeps his balls empty). Finn (as I think) is enchanted by her. Polly and Ada really don't care about her at first.

Pre-wedding time gives us space to imagine.

Arthur is very happy for his little brother. The line 'Sorry, sister' warms my heart and makes me smile every time (and now I'm smiling). It's nearly the best Arthur's line in s3.

John literally doesn't care about Grace at all or we weren't been told about it. He actually has more feelings for the cavalry than for Grace. The one time he says something that is slightly related to Grace is utterly unresectable, dumb, pissing-off line about legitimate business 'Since when' to Tommy after Grace's death. Complete emotional impotence and lack of common sense. Urgh.

Oh, Polly... Literally hates this whole situation. And Grace especially. She's very cynic, vindictive (she didn't forget the incident five years ago), jealous, possessive and definitely afraid of Grace's influence on Tommy (which is bigger than hers). It's interesting, because Tommy and Grace's reunion is the consequences of her actions when she told Tommy that Grace fell in love for real. But there's nothing she can do about it, because despite how she feels she knows that Tommy and Grace really love each other. She loves Tommy and because of that fact she doesn't do anything but says something snappy to Grace and that's all. And I think at Tommy's announcement of marriage and child she rolls her eyes and says something like 'Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me!'.

But I'm absolutely sure about the fact that Tommy would never let anyone interfere in his relationship with Grace. Never. No one. This car only seats two.

In my head Ada likes Grace. We see them chatting nicely in the background at the dinner that Grace hosts. Also Ada was really glad that her brother is happy and smiles again. She can't help but see that this changes was caused by Grace's presence. Don't really think she's been told about all that situation with Freddie when she was giving a birth. But even if it's so, it doesn't seem she cares about it now. And she's a kind person by nature, soooooo.

Finn and Michael don't have any interactions with Grace or say something about her at all (except 'Grace Shelby Institute' line said by Michael in 3.03.). We only can guess about their attitude towards her.

And in a side note I want to add smthg about Johnny Dogs and Jeremiah! If you watch closely at 3.01 episode you will see Jeremiah asking Grace for a dance after Tommy's "first" *cough* dance with her. And Johnny is a complete cinnamon roll when Grace's trying to climb into the carriage. I think that they both loved her.

Hope I managed to answer your question a little bit :)

thank you 🤍

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

A Period Drama

Summary: When that time of the month hits, Y/n wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and forget about the world. Lucky for her, Dean has other plans. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2.1K+

Warnings: Language, discussion of menstrual cycle 

Author’s Note: I guess I'm emotional this cycle, who knew? Anyway, I wrote this because I wanted to die the other day, and imagining Dean's cuddles was the only way for me to get through it. This is a work of self-indulgence and therefore the Reader is a little less non-descript than I usually try to write, but that's what these things are for! Hope this helps my fellow menstruating people lie it did me xoxo Alex

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

A nagging sensation tugged on her strings of consciousness, bringing the sleeping huntress back to the world of the living. Her mind fought against waking, knowing not nearly enough time had passed since she had retreated to her room the previous evening. As the ache deep in her abdomen became more obvious, she stopped fighting and opened her eyes to the darkness of her room. 

“Fuck,” she groaned as she tossed the covers from her body, instantly missing the heat they provided in the recess of the bunker. Y/n rolled from the bed and stood, the action occurring too quickly and the huntress felt the familiar rush between her legs. She cursed herself as she bounded off to the bathroom on the opposite end of the hallway. The socks on her feet muffled her hurried steps as she passed the boys’ rooms. 

Once inside, she went straight for the showers and turned the hot water all the way up. Steam enveloped the space as she stripped her soiled panties and old t-shirt from her body. She let the bathroom turn into a makeshift sauna as she rinsed the blood from her undergarments before finally stepping into the boiling shower. 

It was unclear how long she stood under the water, searing her flesh and scrubbing away the metaphorical grime, all she knew was the relentless heat was managing to ease the ache from her angry uterus. The tentative knock on the bathroom door snapped her back from the silent reverie she had been indulging in, and Y/n noted how the water had gone almost cold. It was likely she had been in there long enough for Sam to have taken his morning run and if her own body wasn’t attacking itself, she might have felt guilty about using up all the bunker’s hot water. 

When she walked out in just a towel, her dirty pajamas rolled into a ball in her arms, she was met with a confused younger Winchester. All she could mutter was a weak ‘sorry’ before she breezed past him and back to her room. The huntress wrapped herself into a pair of sweats and a clean tee, braided her hair out of her face, swallowed a few pain killers, and crawled back under her covers. She thanked whatever higher power had made sure they were hunt-free for the foreseeable future so she could spend the day curled up in a ball. The pills kicked in quick enough to allow her to easily slip back into a blissful sleep.

****

It was nearing one in the afternoon when Dean made his way back inside the bunker, his hands covered in grease and oil from his work tuning up the Impala. He was wiping his hands on an equally dirty towel as he walked into the kitchen to find his little brother making himself a lunch. 

“Please tell me that is not your veggie bacon?” Dean wrinkled his nose as he watched Sam putting together a BLT, the various ingredients strewn about the island. 

“Fine, then I won’t tell you,” Sam didn’t bother to look up from his task to answer his brother. The look of disgust only depended on Dean’s face as he moved around his sibling to wash his hands in the sink. 

The older hunter glanced over his shoulder as the sound of shuffling footsteps grew louder, his gaze landing on a disheveled Y/n. The sweats that hung from her body were wrinkled and she had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. There were lines across the left side of her face, indicating she had been sleeping recently. Worry instantly flooded his system as it was unlike their hunting partner to sleep this late unless she was ill. 

“Sam, what did you do with my heating pad?” her voice was coarse as she didn’t even bother with pleasantries. No ‘hello’, no ‘ how are you’, just straight to whatever business she had in with the younger Winchester. 

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s in the linen closet in the bathroom?” Sam answered, completely unperturbed by her callousness.

“So you put my heating pad in the bathroom,” Y/n rolled her eyes and Sam could only offer her a bewildered nod. “What is with you guys and not being able to put shit back where you found it?” The huntress turned on her heel, not waiting for a response before heading to retrieve the item she was seeking. 

Sam looked over his shoulder at his older brother, his brows knit together in the middle of his forehead. “What the hell was that?” 

“What’s the one thing Y/n uses her heating pad for?” Dean’s lips cured up on one side as he watched the look of realization flash across his brother’s features. The oldest Winchester dried his hands before peeking in the fridge and a few cupboards. “Looks like she could use a supply run. You need anything?” 

“Nah, I’m just going to retreat to my room and pretend like I don’t exist for the rest of the day,” Sam picked up the plate that held his lunch and scurried off, leaving a chuckling Dean behind. 

****

The only light filling her room came from the laptop that was perched in her lap, playing some television show she had stopped paying attention to a while ago, and the filtered light from the hall through the slats in her door. The huntress was still curled into a ball under her covers, attempting to use what little bit of heat from her computer she could muster as she had been unsuccessful in located her heating pad. She felt bad for ripping into Sam about it, but the truth was he had misplaced her belongings, something that she found happened often around the Winchesters, and she was over it today. Pain tended to make her grumpy, as it did most people, and she wasn’t going to apologize for being pissed at their carelessness. 

A soft rapping against her door had her pausing the show as she shoved the device aside. The guest didn’t wait for a response before they pushed the door open, bringing with them a flood of light. Y/n cringed at the sudden change, hiding her face behind her hand. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Dean’s familiar chuckle sounded before the click of the latch indicated he had closed the door behind him. “I come bearing gifts.” 

“What?” she was confused by his words as she dropped her hand and allowed her eyes to adjust back to the relative darkness. 

“Your water bottle, half ice, half water,” he set the green canteen on her bedside table. “The heating pad Sammy somehow managed to lose behind the washing machine,” Dean handed her the light green pad folded neatly with the cord sitting on top. Y/n sighed a breath of relief as the eldest Winchester continued. “And a sharable size bag of dark chocolate peanut M&M’s.”

“Dean,” Y/n caught the purple bag as he tossed it her way, biting back a gleeful moan. “I fucking love you.” She unceremoniously tore into the bag and popped a couple of the chocolate candies into her mouth, missing the rush of blood on the Winchester’s cheeks. 

“And finally,” he mimicked a drum roll with his mouth and procured a box from his arms, placing it on her bedside table. The woman frowned, unable to make out the object at first in the darkness. 

“You bought me tampons? How,” she trailed off, not only awestruck by the hunter’s gesture but amazed at his attention to detail as she read the label. 

“There is only one thing you need your heating pad for,” he remarked as he took the referenced object back to plug it into an outlet for her. “Also, you never snap at Sammy.”

“But how did you know what kind to buy?” 

“Kind of hard not to when you have a box of them stashed away in Baby’s trunk,” Dean countered as he perched himself on the edge of her bed. 

“Hey, those are for emergencies. Besides, I’m sure Baby understands.”

“I’m sure she does.” 

Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek as she fiddled with the bag of candy in her lap, the kindness shown by Dean throwing her off. She offered the open bag to her hunting partner, who snatched a handful for himself with a grin. 

“Thank you, Dean, seriously. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” her voice was low as the admittance slipped past her lips. “Want to watch some Scooby-Doo with me? You know, if you aren’t busy or anything?”

“I’d love to, sweetheart,” Dean winked at her, that shit-eating grin never leaving his face even as he stood and shucked off his jacket and boots so he could climb into the bed next to her. “Who could pass up Daphne?”

The huntress sat back against the headboard with a roll of her eyes and switched the streaming show on her laptop before unfolding her already warmed heating pad and laid it across her lower abdomen. She moved the laptop at the end of the bed so they could both see it and set the bag of M&M’s between her and Dean to share. 

The two settled into the cartoon, laughing in unison at the ridiculous parts and commenting on how the Scooby gang couldn’t have handled that monster had it been real. Three episodes passed by before a shredding cramp ripped through her stomach, the shock of it enough that she was unable to hide the groan as she had been so far. 

“You okay?” Dean shifted in his spot next to her, his head turning from the kids’ show to his friend beside him.

“No, I’m not okay. It feels like my internal organs are attempting to exit my body,” she snapped, instantly regretting it when Dean subtly recoiled. “Shit, I’m sorry. I--I didn’t mean…” Y/n was cut off as the pain returned just as intense as it had been moments ago, causing her to roll onto her side and into a ball, clutching the heat of the pad against her body like a lifeline. 

“Alright,” Dean huffed before moving the candy and laptop from the bed. Y/n could hear the hunter shift behind her, but her eyes were clamped shut as she tried to breathe through the pain like she was experiencing the contractions of labor of something. She felt the hard lines of his body lock around the curves of her own and his arm snake around her abdomen. His hand rested over hers as he pulled her tight against him, putting more pressure than she had been able to muster against her lower belly. “I’ve got you.”

The heat of his body on one side and the pad against her stomach, combined with the force he was exerting on her uterus, finally allowed her to relax fully for the first time since she had awoken that morning. She never wanted to leave this moment, utterly content in the peace that his presence in her bed brought her. The idea scared her a little, but she figured that was a problem for another day. Now she chose to just live in this moment for as long as he would let her. 

“Why?” she muttered into the dark space after she was sure he had fallen asleep as his grip had relented a touch and his breathing evened out, hoping he wouldn’t answer but knowing she had to ask. 

“Cause I wanted to,” his voice was gruff, indicating he had probably been on the cusp of falling asleep when she spoke up. “I hate seeing you like this. Figured it was the least I could do.”

“Dean Winchester, are you going soft on me?” she quirked up one corner of her lips, unable to fight the giddiness his words instilled in her chest. 

“Sweetheart, there is nothing soft about me when I’m around you,” he chuckled, earning himself an elbow to the gut. He grunted and the two of them fell into a fit of laughter. 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” The hunter was ready for her arm this time, his hand moving to wrap around her forearm and pull it into him so as to trap her even tighter than before in his embrace. Y/n struggled against his hold, giggling like an idiot as the two wrestled in the bed a moment before she relented that he was much stronger than she. 

“Honestly,” Dean placed a gentle kiss to her shoulder once she had settled, only encouraging her to melt further into his arms. “I’d do anything to make you smile, Y/n.”

“Well, then mission accomplished, Winchester,” she turned her head to flash him a genuine smile to which he reciprocated before planting his pillow-soft lips against hers.

P.S. I didn't even try on this title because this is just a little therapy piece and therefore no one should judge me. 

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