#it's perfect or it's nonexistant is how we roll in this house

[burstanddecay]

nothing breaks my heart more than having to scrap lines that are spot on for a character, just because they don't flow with the rhythm of the passage

[ellatoone7]

Long day (Leah Williamson x reader)

It was getting darker earlier now, a sure sign that winter was nearing, that and the goosebumps littering over Leah’s tanned skin as it whipped through her hair, making the blood rush through her ears in the best way possible.

Winter trainings were always tough, the bitter cold stinging the defenders bright eyes making it nearly impossible to see the ball. It was all worth it though as she was enveloped by the warmth of her car and the thoughts of what was waiting for her at home.

Leah didn’t waste any time getting home, her playlist blaring as she hums gently to the lyrics that always reminded her of you. Leah loved football, it was a huge part of her life and she cherished every second of it, but, it didn’t come close to how much she loved you.

In fact Leah loved you so much that as long as she had you in her life, she would be content with never playing another match again. She didn’t fail to remind you of that every day, from waking you up with soft, loving kisses and breathless confessions of love that was so sacred to the both of you, all the way to the lazy evenings full of cuddles on the couch and whispered affections.

Leah craved those dark mornings tangled in linen sheets and soft limbs, so connected that you couldn’t tell where one started and the other finished. This morning for example, a rare day, where Leah didn’t have to get up at an ungodly hour, now that it was winter her trainings had been pushed further up in the evening, leaving the still mornings at her beck and call.

Strong biceps curled around your midsection, holding on as if you were some divine being that would disappear at the slightest loosen of her grip. The gentle breathing, that the defender claims eagerly is not snoring, though you would beg to differ, fans the back of your neck as the serene surrounding of pure adoration consumes the room fully.

That exact same fondness that paints the walls of your house welcomes the tired blonde back into its familiar structure. Leah’s home however isn’t slabs of concrete or treasured pictures littering every inch of the building, but it’s the comforting figure that she just knows is standing in kitchen, waiting for food to magically appear out of thin air.

Leah drops her kit bag next to the homemade shoe shelf Steph had made the both of you after Leah missed a match due to a single shoe and a rolled ankle. The blonde chuckled at the memory as she threw the keys into the designated bowel while heeling the front door shut.

“Babe?” Although knowing exactly where you were, she couldn’t help but be impatient as she hears the soft pattering of your fluffy socked feet. You smoothly slid into the corridor with the most prized worthy grin lighting up every inch of your perfect face.

Just like her previous actions, you did not waste a second, cupping her defined jaw and pulling her into a kiss that could mistaken the fact that Leah had only been gone for a few hours. The gentle tug of her hair pulled her back into the blissful reality that was you, her hands had found the place on your hips that they had been familiarised with for so long, pulling you in until the space between the both of you was nonexistent.

“Hi.” One simple word mumbled against her lips in a humour full manor, a breathless chuckle following from her own mouth as she peppers kisses against your flushed cheeks.

“God, people would think you’ve been gone for months with this greeting.” You chuckled as lips worshipped your neck, “We won’t tell people that it’s only been a few hours then.”

Her deep London accent was muffled as she placed one final kiss against the volume of your throat.

Foreheads met and eyes locked as you found comfort in each others space, “For what it’s worth, I missed you.” You couldn’t help but melt into her, nuzzling your cheek against hers while breathing her in, “I missed you too.” You pulled back slightly before continuing, “You know what else I missed? When you didn’t smell, go take a shower, Lee.”

A laugh bubbled up as you watched the defender scoff in offence, “Rude!” You nodded while wiping her sweaty strand of hair out of her face with a playful grimace. Leah swatted your hands away as she grumbled childishly, “Okay! okay, I get it.” The blonde started towards the stairs before turning backs around with an eyebrow raised, “Wanna join me?”

“As much as I would love to, I have some baking to do, so I will regretfully leave you to it,” Leah chuckled while solemnly nodding, you watched her slightly disappointed expression and decided to meet her halfway, “…but, I can offer you a kiss?”

Her blue eyes lit up again like they always seem to do when she’s near around you, leaning up on your tiptoes you pressed a timid kiss to her eager lips before quickly stepping back much to the tall blondes dismay. Her lips followed yours and you gave into her meeting her in the middle in a melting kiss.

Her sweaty stature was the last thing on your mind as you wrapped your arms around her neck, she slightly lifted you off the ground pressing you against her fully.

After what felt like a too small eternity, you gently stepped back, “That’ll give you something to think about.” She lightly groaned before quickly stealing one more kiss, “Don’t be a tease.” You giggled before pushing at her chest gently, “Go, get cleaned up and then get down here to help me with these stupid cookies.”

Leah smiled before putting her hands up innocently, she made her way upstairs with a satisfied sigh and you watched her go before heading back to the kitchen.

[breaking-everything]

Tankies talk like they're making the shittiest poetry on this site.

~Oh the evil imperialism running through the slavers veins of the west

Oh the pragmatism when I use it randomly not knowing the meaning of the word

My morality flies so high for others that I tell others to die daily for things they can't even control... like where they were born

My purity makes me smarter than imperial pigs as I pretend I don't roll around in imperialism myself while talking this in the internet and using the evil currency using the facial imagery of my uwu oppressors 😢

I don't leave even though I hate it and everyone born in it, excluding my pure perfect self of course, deserves to die and suffer because of apartheid imperialism even though I'm a privileged little shit that talks stupid 👍👍👍 👍❤️❤️❤️❤️

I'm a white cringe kid that uses words from brown and black ethnic groups to conceal the fact that I'm a white cringe kid that only speaks English and not those "minority languages". I just need myself to look like a totally enlightened intellectual that just knows things.

I fling around buzz words to seem highly sensitive and informed but instead I somehow get seen as stupid when attacking strangers on the internet and telling them to commit suicide and give all their possessions to our forever nonexistent revolution

I will shoot my own privates off before having a war because all I do is talk shit while talking uwu evil bourgeoisie, oooh bad bad apartheid, naughty imperialism, everyone I don't like is a zionist (quotes our Daddy Hitler to show how totally not racist we are), uses gringo(a) while we're crackers descended from European colonists.

We can't respond to the language gringo comes because we don't even speak Spanish or any of the Latin languages.

Oooooh we're so oppressed since we're born in evil chains, I'm enslaved in the hellish west and I won't stop talking like a low grade shitty failed poetic anime villain about it ~

Runs off to my uwu parents house in the suburbs, wearing a cape with the flag of a country I'll never set foot in but it makes me edgy and totally informed in world thingys

[ghostlycod]

just got done with this movie and I’m obsessed and this blog has no followers so nobody pay attention to me I am talking to myself for my own sake

Totally see this take!! It is very valid. I definitely picked up on PADDY wanting to seduce Ben in the car

I feel like the “sexual” tension between them was because Paddy’s end goal was to “seduce” Ben to make him acquiesce to Paddy’s plans

and I think he did this specifically because Ben was obviously the mentally and physically weak one in the relationship between him and his wife

abusers target people to groom based off of recent traumas/emotional upheaval, a lack of self esteem, lack of a good support system, and a certain characteristic that I forget the snappy name for but basically means “highly persuadable”

Ben went through recent emotional upheaval (wife cheating on him), which broke his self esteem, his support system was nonexistent (literally the only person he had in the entire country was the wife he had a recent break of trust in), and he was quite obviously in the movie very easily persuaded

Ben was vulnerable. Point blank period. Ben was always Paddy’s target for grooming the family to be killed and I think because we’re not used to seeing men being groomed for abuse by other men it kinda flew under the radar

Paddy’s main method of “seducing” Ben was via similar Alpha Male rhetoric we see seducing the vulnerable men of today. Ben represents a man who feels betrayed by the women closest to him, he feels weak, and he lacks self esteem. A man like Paddy who boasts an avid sex life, masculine hobbies like hunting and making his own alcohol, presents himself as fulfilling the masculine “warden of the house” kind of fatherhood (Ben’s fatherhood is much more gentle and empathic — and should be ideal) with his foot down and in control of his wife and kid (who totally just loooooove how in control he is! They need it! It’s good for them! They’re not suffering! Really! Look at that those happy smiles!), and who has this picture perfect manly man life of living off the land. Not to mention the ideal male physique.

If we’re rolling with the homoerotic take: Paddy doesn’t just try to seduce Ben physically through sex, he is also seducing him through gratification of the male self image.

to take that same concept (gratification through male self image) on a non-homoerotic vein, the same reason why men love beefed up and super strong superheros in comic books is the same reason why Ben becomes enamored with Paddy. It is wish fulfillment. Gratification. Seeing another man being this ideal of physicality and of strength is a gratifying power fantasy for men that they can project onto comic book characters they read.

They portray strength in men through their protagonists to validate where they lack — which makes them feel good in the moment, but simultaneously continues a cycle often found in the patriarchy which requires men to build up an ideal of what a man “should be” that ultimately is unobtainable and actively harmful to their wellbeing. Paddy is Ben’s Superman. Paddy is Ben’s wish fulfillment. Paddy is the surface level ideals of who and what a man should be and he is the horrifying reality of what actualizing those “virtues” means — a loss of humanity. Chasing that pipe dream almost kills Ben and the two women that he loves.

and that’s why I think in the car scene Paddy looked like he was ready to EAT Ben both carnally and psychologically. Because the theme is the seduction of vulnerable men to male power fantasies.

speak no evil

ben was gay, right? like that was one of the subtextual conflicts in that marriage, right? why he and mackenzie davis' character were pulling apart? like he really wanted to fuck paddy, right? i'm not reading something that wasn't there, right????

[cattheskeletonofcreative]

Starting out

(This is something I took from my Wattpad book. Check it out at KatLover893 on Wattpad. This is the only chapter so far, but please enjoy if you do read it!)

(This chapter features Ink. Please be advised that this is my multiverse and not all of the original Ink Sans's cannon things are cannon here.)

(Ink's PoV)

"That was quite the workout!" Ink said as he stretched his black, inky bones. His fellow ink monster, an Undyne that hasn't renamed herself yet, just rolled her eyes and started walking away. "Huh? What? I was just saying it takes a lot of work building a whole house for our newest ink-addition.

"Especially when you insisted we finish it in a whole day," he called out to her, but she was already gone. Man, that fish walks fast. Ink shrugged and then put on his friendliest smile. He'd just brought home a Frisk from an abandoned AU and he still has business to finish with them.

Preparing his jar, he went back to where he'd last seen them. He hopes Woodwork didn't scare the new human out of their new home. He'd be sad to find that he'll have to search for a whole new Frisk when it's already taken him over fifty years to find this one. The ground beneath his feet crunched quietly, the air gently blowing through his bones.

He spotted a life-size doll with cracks and chipped bits sitting on a bench, right where he'd left it. As Ink approached, she lifted her head and gave him a look that made his nonexistent heart break. He sat beside the human child and smiled softly as he spoke, "Here. I brought one of my jars.

"It's time to fulfill our little deal. But I'll understand if you want some time to-"

"No. I don't think I should spend any more time with it. It just keeps me tied to what could have been," the Frisk muttered. He gave a slight nod and opened his jar. Then, he reached for the broken doll's torso, pressing his hand to it. Using a slight bit of magic, he was able to get a breaking heart, a human soul, to hover outside of the vessel's body.

Gently, Ink grabbed the soul and put it in the jar, closing the lid as a name appeared on the glass. The doll's lips twitched slightly upwards as it sighed, and Ink knew this was a sign of relief. He stood, putting the jar down for a moment, and said, "Now that you've let go of your soul, you can begin your new life as an Inktale human.

"You don't need to worry about the inking process; it's painless and happens overnight. Woodwork will be your assigned guide until you feel comfortable enough to walk around on your own. And please, don't worry about your emotions. Though you feel nothing for the past AUs you were supposed to be in, your emotions are still intact.

"Keeping your soul in this jar is... well, it's a way of locking away the past. It doesn't make you an empty husk with no purpose." The newest addition nodded and then stood up to bow.

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Ink," she said and Ink chuckled.

"It's no biggie! I should be thanking you for accepting to join my AU! Your arrival is helping us all get closer to having a full home! One day, this place will be filled with monsters and humans alike!" Ink exclaimed, wrapping his arms tightly around the girl. "Now! I have a surprise for you! Come, come!"

He let go of the Frisk and took her hand, pulling her along with him. He didn't notice her grab the jar with the broken soul, too busy thinking about how happy the new addition will be to see his surprise. It was small, but the house was decorated specifically to match with the doll's vibe.

A one-story house with all sorts of colorful plants covering it, making it look like the wildlife was taking over the home, just how Ink wanted it to look. The house itself was a dark blue with white trim, a small wooden deck built in front of the door. There were chairs and tables on the deck, perfect for tea parties or watching the sunrise/set.

Ink knows that they currently haven't figured out how to make a sun in this mostly-blank-canvas world, but he can still dream about watching the sun go up and down. "What do you think?" He asked, turning to the human. He jolted when he saw the streaks of water going down their broken wood cheeks.

Panicking, he went to hug her, but she then snuffled and sobbed out, "It's beautiful!" This caught Ink off-guard, so he froze for about three seconds before smiling and hugging the girl. She sobbed into his shoulder as she hugged him back; he has observed enough to know that, based on her reaction, these are happy tears.

'It just dawned on her that this really is her home now, I think.' Ink thought as he closed his eyeless sockets and rubbed her back slowly.

He's proud to have made another being happy with taking them in.

________

(That's the end of this short story. It's partially cannon to Re-envisionedverse. Woodwork is Ink!Chara, btw. Ink!Undyne doesn't have a name. Ink!Frisk does have a name but didn't come up with it until a while after settling in (and, yeah, she's a girl; she goes by she or they. Don't be mad at me).

Need further explanation? Have questions? Feel free to ask me in the comments! I'm happy to answer questions! Just note that, depending on time zone/schedule, I might not answer immediately. I will try to answer as soon as possible; don't worry, you're not being ignored! I just finished high school a month ago (early graduate; homeschooled) so I'm usually not doing anything.

But just in case I am, then I will reply as soon as I am able to.)

[ginwalt]

uhh could I request a wanda x reader doing something really reckless (like stealing the car for a 3 am drive) and Carol and Nat (who are like their mother figures - and also are in a relationship) scolding them for it!!

ps: I don't know if scolding is even a word but I guess you know what I mean hahahah

a/n: I am absolutely in love with this prompt and I had a lot of fun writing it :) hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none just some cursing and some underage drinking.

Word Count: 2,680

--

It was around 3:30 in the morning when you felt someone nudge your shoulder. Groaning, you pulled your blanket further over your head.

"Leave me alone," you grumbled under your breath.

It was only when a strand of red magic surrounded the edge of the blanket and jerked it off your body, did you awaken. You gasped at the sudden assault of cold air and shot up. Wanda stood over you in a Black Sabbath hoodie and ripped jeans with a far too pleased smirk on her face.

"What the hell, Wanda?" You hissed, rubbing your bleary eyes.

"Put some clothes on; I want to show you something."

"The sun isn't rising for another 2 hours, Wan. I want to go back to bed," you complained, grasping for the blanket once more.

Wanda pulled the blanket fully off your shared bed and looked at you pleadingly, "Come on, please? I promise it will be worth it," her eyes were wide as she looked at you hopefully. At this time of night- or morning, you supposed - her accent was thicker than it would be during the day. You cursed your weak resolve and slunk out of bed.

"Fine, but I'm stealing one of your hoodies," you grumbled.

She chuckled, "You are already hoarding at least half of them," she pointed out as you stepped out of your pajama pants. You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled on black yoga pants and an Iron Maiden sweatshirt you had been keeping on your side of the closet for at least a month now. Wanda gasped and slapped your arm lightly, "I have been looking for that everywhere, Y/n. I thought I lost it!"

"Your hoodies are comfier," you reasoned with a shrug. "Anyways, how are we supposed to get past mother hen one and two?" You gestured towards the direction of Natasha and Carol's room.

Wanda pondered this for a moment, "Just be fast and quiet, you go out and wait in the car, and I will grab the drinks."

You raised an eyebrow, "Natasha's a world-class assassin, and Carol wakes up whenever Nat does; this won't work. Also, we're going to drink at 3 in the morning?"

Wanda huffed, "It will be fine. You worry too much, Y/n. Plus, when have we ever drank irresponsibly?"

Narrowing your eyes, you stuffed your hands in your pockets, "Do you really want me to answer that."

Wanda pushed you towards the door, "Go outside and wait in the car." You snickered and carefully opened the bedroom door, wincing when the hinges squealed slightly. It wasn't a matter of not being caught as much as it was a matter of being long gone before Natasha and Carol decided to go after them. Regardless of how sneaky they thought they were being, Natasha- if not both her and Carol - was bound to hear them. Ever so carefully, you wedged the front door open and slipped through it.

You had moved in with Carol, Nat, and Wanda a year into your relationship with her. Having graduated college with a nearly nonexistent relationship with your parents, you needed a place to live. Your girlfriend and the women who practically made sure you didn't starve throughout college seemed like the most reasonable choice. You had met Wanda on campus, and it had taken three weeks of being her friend until you realized she was an Avenger. Shortly after that, Wanda introduced you to the rest of her team. At first, your only interaction with the married couple was them giving you the "shovel talk" when Wanda first introduced you as her girlfriend. However, after working with them as a hacker for SHIELD, they quickly took you under their wing as well.

Smiling slightly at the memory, you opened the passenger door to Natasha's black Corvette Stingray. It took all of three minutes for Wanda to come running out the door, a bottle of apple cinnamon whiskey in hand. She threw the door open and shoved the bottle into your hand before pushing the key into the ignition and gunning it down the street. Your eyes bugged as your fumbled to get your seatbelt fastened. You clutched at your chest as the two of you went 45 in a neighborhood.

"Wanda, what the fuck!" you yelped, gripping the neck of the whiskey bottle tightly.

"I'm sorry, I heard their door open, and I panicked!" She cried, grasping blindly for her seatbelt. The two of you slowed down slightly as you gained distance from the house.

"They're totally going to notice the whiskey's gone, Wan. We're both 19; we can't legally drink yet!"

"Relax, Y/n they won't notice one drink is missing out of a whole cabinet filled with alcohol," Wanda reasoned, turning onto a gravel road.

You raised an eyebrow at your girlfriend, "How many times do I have to point out that Nat is the world's top assassin and Carol was trained by both the US military and the Kree?"

"I promise it will be worth it," Wanda insisted, grabbing your hand from across the middle console. You sighed and leaned down to kiss the top of her hand.

"You're lucky I love you."

Wanda grinned and shot a wink at you, "I know." With that, she pulled off the dirt road and into the middle of a grassy clearing. You unbuckled your seatbelt and reached down to grab the whiskey, which had rolled under the seat during your escape out of the neighborhood. Wanda stepped out of the car and went around the back to grab a large black and red checkered blanket. You followed her as she smoothed out the blanket atop the grass and pointed up at the sky. A small gasp escaped your lips as you saw streaks of light blaze across the sky.

"I didn't know there was going to be a meteor shower tonight," you whispered, eyes never leaving the sky. Wanda grinned and unscrewed the bottle. She took a hearty drink from it and passed it over to you.

"I was hoping to surprise you," she explained, laying down on the blanket.

You followed suit and took a large drink of your own. "Why did we need alcohol for this, exactly?"

The corner of Wanda's lips quirked upward as she turned her head to look at you. "Make it a bit more...colorful, I suppose. I considered whether edibles would be better, but Nat and Carol would definitely skin us alive when they found out about that."

You giggled; the apple cinnamon whiskey had settled in your stomach, warming your body against the early morning breeze. Your head felt fuzzier as you leaned over to place a kiss on Wanda's cheek. "This is perfect, Wan. Thank you." Wanda placed a cinnamon-flavored kiss on the corner of your mouth. "How much do you want to bet Wanda and Carol are waiting by the door for us right now?"

Your girlfriend let out a drunken laugh and set the now half-empty bottle aside. "10 dollars that they left the house to find us."

"You're on." The two of you dissolved into hysterical giggles that lasted so long your stomach started to cramp. The blazes of white-hot light lit up the sky as your vision turned blissfully hazy. Clumsily, you crawled towards Wanda and placed your head atop her stomach. "Mmm, you're warm," you hummed, a goofy smile cracking through your lips. The witch placed her hands against the side of your head and started stroking them through the locks of your hair.

Just as your eyes started to slip shut at the attention, your felt her hands halt. "Y/n?" You let out a quiet 'mhm' in response. "How're we gonna get home?" Her voice was slurred and thick with her Sokovian accent.

Your eyes snapped open, and you shot up. "Shit, we can walk, maybe?" Wanda gave you a blank look in response as she gestured to the expanse of nothingness around you. You sighed, "We have to call Carol and Nat."

Wanda groaned and covered her face with her hands. Her chipped black nails scrubbed at her eyes and cheeks, leaving red lines all over her face. "Do we have to?"

"Well, we can't drive Wanda, and by the time we're sober enough, it'll be nearly 7:30!"

"They're going to kill us," she complained, burying her face in her hoodie. "Just get it over with."

You fished your phone from your pant pocket and hesitantly pressed Natasha's contact. The phone barely got through with its first ring before the older woman picked up.

"Where the hell did you two go?" her raspy voice was nearly brimming with anger. You almost dropped your phone at the venom lacing her words.

" 'M sorry, 'Tasha," you winced at the heavy slur in your words before continuing. "We thought it'd be fun."

You heard someone grab the phone, "Are you two drunk?" Carol demanded.

"No..." you trailed off pathetically. Wanda glared at you and lightly kicked your foot.

"Y/n try to say Natasha's full name, right now," you straightened slightly at Carol's military voice.

"N'tasha 'Manoff," your tongue felt too big for your mouth as you attempted to form the words. "...Okay, maybe a little bit."

"Where are you? We're coming to get you," Nat insisted. You heard footsteps from the other end of the line and someone pulling the hallway closet open.

"Wan, where are we?" you asked, glancing around the fields of overgrown grass and wheat.

Wanda winced and bit the tip of her finger, "Uhhh.."

"You don't know?" Natasha and Carol shouted. Wanda pursed her lips and looked down at her lap.

"I didn't have a specific route planned out beforehand," she admitted.

"Turn the location tracker in your phone settings on," Natasha ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," you both grumbled in unison, feeling akin to a scolded child.

"When we get there, you two better hope you have a better excuse than the ones we heard over the phone," Carol warned.

"You took my Corvette?" Natasha complained.

"It was either that or Carol's truck, and Wanda isn't used to driving stick yet," you insisted. "Her car's still in the shop from last month." A speeding car had rear-ended Wanda's car on the highway.

We will talk about this when we get there, do not touch the Corvette any more than you already have," with that, Natasha hung up.

"Well, apple cinnamon whiskey isn't a terrible last meal," you reasoned as Wanda folded the blanket and set it in the backseat.

"Y/n, we haven't eaten since dinner time. Whiskey is hardly a meal," Wanda grumbled, shutting the door.

"Babe, I'm trying to be optimistic."

"Captain Marvel and Black Widow are on their way to kick our asses into the moon," Wanda replied, leaning back against the Corvette. You sighed and rested your head against her shoulder. "Sorry this night was a bust," she mumbled, eyes staring down at her boots dejectedly.

You smiled and leaned in to press your lips against hers. Wrapping an arm around her waist, you pulled away and rested your forehead against hers. "This is one of the most romantic things anyone has ever done for me, Wanda. Thank you." Wanda grinned sheepishly and buried her face in your shoulder.

A few dreadful minutes later, you saw the headlights of Carol's truck speed down the gravel road. The truck lurched to a stop as the two superheroes jumped out of the car.

"Are you two alright?" Natasha demanded, half-running to the two of you.

"We're fine, I can protect myself, and Y/n was with me the whole time," Wanda reasoned. "We went out to watch a meteor shower, not go clubbing.

"I can protect myself just fine," you whined.

Carol raised an eyebrow, "Your hands were built for hacking and reading, not punching." You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. Wanda offered you a sympathetic smile but did not say anything to counter the older woman's claim. Rude.

"Wanda, get in the Corvette, Y/n get your ass in the truck," Natasha ordered. She was wearing a black leather jacket over her red silk pajama set. Carol was in basketball shorts and a tank top with a brown leather bomber jacket pulled over it. You quickly shuffled over to the truck and slid in.

Your foot nervously tapped against the floor of the car as you watched Carol grab the nearly empty bottle of whiskey and made her way over to the truck. Shutting the door, she set the bottle of whiskey on the open seat between you two and turned the keys in the ignition. As the pickup truck rumbled to life, she turned to face you. "Kid, you two nearly downed that bottle in a single night. What were you thinking?" You burrowed further into Wanda's sweatshirt as if to protect from her stern gaze.

"You're really mad at us, huh?" you mumbled, fidgeting with your hands.

Carol sighed and followed behind Natasha down the road, "You scared the shit out of us, kid. We didn't know where you had gone, why you left, plus it's nearly pitch black out here."

"But, we're adults just like you and Nat," you insisted weakly.

"You're still teenagers; we're in our 30's. Millions of things could have gone wrong; some creep could have taken you before Wanda could get to you, you could have crashed had you chosen to drive home, your phones could have died, or you could have gotten lost."

You shrunk further into your sweater, "Sorry..."

Carol sighed and looked over at you as she turned into the neighborhood. "Listen, kid. We really care about you two a lot. Nat and I have to resist the urge to duct tape you to the kitchen chairs to keep you two from leaving for missions. We know you can take care of yourselves, but a heads up in the future would be nice, and also more reasonable hours for your plans."

You grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, that seems fair."

Carol smiled and pulled into the driveway. Natasha and Wanda were waiting on the doorstep when you two got out. The latter looked thoroughly chastised as she burrowed her mouth and nose into her hoodie. When the four of you got inside, Natasha sighed and checked the clock on her phone.

"Well, we might as well watch a movie or something since it's nearly sunrise." You and Wanda settled on the couch, with Natasha to your left and Carol to Wanda's right acting as bookends. The assassin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, allowing you to rest your head in the crook of her neck. You saw Wanda lay her head in Carol's lap as the older woman pulled up Netflix. Natasha was idly threading her fingers through your hair, causing your already drunk and lethargic mind to grow hazier. Your eyes started to slip shut as you felt yourself being guided to lay your head in Nat's lap. You jerked slightly, attempting to fight the drowsiness from taking hold. Forcing your eyes open, you tried to sit up. However, the battle for consciousness was quickly lost when Nat started using her nails to gently massage your scalp.

--

"Carol," the assassin whispered to her wife. The blonde stopped her search for a good movie as she glanced over at Natasha.

"What is-" her question was quickly cut off by her wife quietly shushing her. Nat gestured down to the younger women currently lying in each of their laps. Carol glanced down to find Wanda's face hidden against the sleeve of her hoodie as she let out soft snores.

"Well, guess the movie idea's a bust," she whispered.

Natasha nodded, "You grab Wan, and I'll get Y/n."

Carefully, the heroes scooped the younger women into their arms and carried them to your shared bedroom. Natasha gently set you onto the bed beside your girlfriend and pulled the blanket- which was lying on the floor for whatever reason - to cover the two of you. Ever so cautiously, the couple crept out of the room.

[heyyyharry]

Drivers License

(inspired by drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.5k

And you're probably with that blonde girl Who always made me doubt She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about

This song is so sad and it made me cry so I had to write something about it 🤧

.

.

.

“I love the song.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N chewed on her bottom lip, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “But?” she asked her producer, who was on the phone. “You don’t sound like you love it.”

“Of course I love it, Y/N. It’s just–” Came a pause. “Do you really want this to be the next single?”

“What do you mean? You love it but it’s not good enough to be a single?”

“It’s too good, Y/N,” her producer said. “It’s very...personal.”

“That’s why I want to put it out, Gray. It means a lot to me.”

Gray was quiet for another moment. “The media and his fans are going to come for you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright. I’ll call you back.” Gray sounded defeated but she could still sense a smile as he told her, “Good job, kid,” before hanging up.

Y/N put her phone away, tossed her head back and heaved a sigh. She was well aware of the trouble she’d cause by releasing this song. It’d be like showing the whole world her diary. She’d written plenty of songs on her previous albums about her relationships, too. There had been witch hunts simply because the men she’d written songs about had fans who worshipped them and refused to see them as anything less than perfect. She wasn’t perfect, either. If she were perfect, she wouldn’t have written a song about an ‘almost’ relationship. She’d know her worth and not have chased someone who didn’t and would never want her. She knew that now. So this song would be the last thing she’d give this person. The last goodbye that she never got to say.

.

.

.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Nothing.”

“Let me see,” Y/N giggled and tried to grab his phone as he pretended to fight her off.

“Alright, alright.” He laughed, reached out to turn the music in his car down and handed her the phone. “It’s the memes your fans made about you not being able to drive,” he said, suppressing a grin.

Her jaw dropped. “I hate you!”

“I’m sorry. It slipped out,” he said, laughing again. She could listen to his laugh on replay. She loved his music, but his laugh had to be her most favourite melody. “To be fair, you talked a lot of shit about me in that interview, too.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she scoffed at the smug look he was wearing. “At least I didn’t tell the whole world about your imaginary friend that you had until you were thirteen. You spilt my secret.”

“Not a secret anymore.”

She playfully smacked him on the arm. “My lawyer will hear about this.”

He pouted, pretending to be upset. “Guess we’ll never work together anymore.”

“Acting is not for me anyway.”

Y/N gave Harry back his phone. He took it but didn’t break eye contact as his brows knitted. “Stop saying that. You were great in the movie.”

She rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Oh please, have you been on the internet?”

“You mean my fans’ reactions, right? Just ignore them.” He breathed. “I mean, I love my fans, but they could be too much sometimes. Just look at all my previous relationships. I can’t even breathe around a female without them sending her death threats.”

“Yeah,” Y/N let out a nervous laugh, hands folded together resting on her knees. “Speaking of relationships,” she ventured, “are you talking to someone new?”

She wasn’t looking at him yet she could feel the heat from his gaze as he told her, “No. I already told you, Y/N. Right now there’s just you.”

Harry turned, putting both hands on his steering wheel. Was he nervous as well? Had she ruined the moment by bringing this up?

He took a deep breath, confirming her assumption. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just not ready for a relationship.”

It was the same line he’d told her times and times again, and she wished she could just tell him how much she loathed it. And since she couldn’t say anything, she just nodded and focused on the rings on her fingers.

“I do care a lot about you, though,” he added, his voice heavy with emotions.

Her friends had told her that men would say things like this, and most of the time they barely meant half of it. However, she’d known Harry for years. Their relationship had only changed since they’d been cast for the same movie earlier this year. She was confident that she knew him better than her friends or anyone else. Surely, he’d meant all the things he’d said to her. The problem was, he just wasn’t ready for a relationship.

“And I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he said, now looking at her again.

She turned slowly and met his thoughtful green eyes. She offered a single smile as a way to tell him she wasn’t upset, even though she was, a little bit. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she admitted.

His dimples reappeared. “I feel like it’s rare for people like us to find a connection like this, and I’ve never opened up to anyone the way I have to you. But I think now isn’t the time for us to take the risk of ruining this. Right now we’re still trying to figure out our own lives, you know?”

She nodded again, not knowing what to say.

They sat quietly for another moment, and it was he who broke the silence. “How come you never learn to drive?”

She could feel her cheeks glowing red. “I never had to drive myself.”

She’d been famous since she was fourteen, so she’d always had people driving her places. Whenever she told anyone that reason, they’d either call her spoiled to her face or give her a judgemental look that made her feel self-conscious. She didn’t have a dad or siblings, her mum didn’t know how to drive, either, and she was too afraid to ask anyone to teach her for she feared they’d judged her.

“I could teach you.”

Y/N whipped her head up and blinked blankly at him. “Really?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “I have a cousin who didn’t learn to drive when he was young because of his anxiety and I taught him. I could teach you.”

Trying to hide her excitement, Y/N smiled. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” His grin widened even though he was the one doing her a favour. It was moments like this that reassured her that he wasn’t like the other guys who’d broken her heart. “When you got your driver license,” he said, “you can drive up to my house on your own.”

“We can even go on road trips,” she said happily, already imagining the many scenarios in her head.

He seemed equally elated, which made her heart swell. “Yeah! Wanna do it now or–”

“Let’s do it now.”

“Yeah, okay.” Quickly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. She climbed into the driver seat and watched him settle into the passenger side. That afternoon was the first time she’d learned how to drive. She would always remember that.

.

.

“Y/N, you’re up next,” said one member of the backstage staff who handed Y/N her mic and ran off to check on the backing vocalist.

Y/N felt her heart thumping in her chest as she clutched the microphone to her chest and sucked in a deep breath. She looked to her right, peering at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She looked beautiful. The makeup team and her stylist had spent three hours on this look and made sure that she was flawless.

Would he be watching the show tonight?

Had he even listened to the song?

It got to number one on the iTunes chart today. He must have listened to it. If not, he must have heard it on the radio or someone must have sent it to him. The whole world knew the song was for him, and everyone was talking about it. So even though he didn’t care anymore, even though he was happy with his new girlfriend, he must be wondering. Because when she’d heard that he’d written a song about her, she’d been so excited to listen to it. So could it be that he was wondering as well?

“This is Y/N performing her latest single DRIVERS LICENSE!”

Y/N took a deep breath as she got a nod from the stage director. She stepped out, soaked in the stage lights while the audience applauded and cheered for her. She stood at the centre of the stage as the band started playing and the noise in the audience died down. As a habit, she searched the front rows for his face despite knowing with every fibre in her body that this would be the last place he’d be tonight.

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

She could see it even now. Them driving through the quiet night. From her house to his and back. Just the two of them. The kisses they’d share at stoplights when there was no one else around. The way he’d place his hand on her thigh just because he wanted to. In retrospect, she should have realised that he wouldn’t ever do that to her in public. Their relationship, if she could call it that, had been almost nonexistent. Maybe that was why it’d been so easy for him to move on. You couldn’t feel remorse leaving behind something that didn’t exist. How unfortunate. It’d been real to her.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

She’d thought to herself that if he could write a song about someone he’d never dated, it was worth staying with him despite not actually being with him. She could not expect that a few months after that song had come out, he would be seen driving around with another girl. The girl he’d told her was only a good friend. This girl was older and perfect in every way. Y/N wouldn’t choose herself either if the choices were between her and that girl. But she couldn’t bring herself to hate the girl. It wasn’t the girl’s fault that Harry had chosen her. And it wasn’t Harry’s fault that Y/N refused to see the red flags through her rose-coloured glasses.

And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Y/N wrote this song a week after she’d got her drivers license. She’d blast sad music in her car and cried as she drove past his house, wondering if he was still up and thinking of her whenever he saw headlights passing his street. The heartbreak had been confusing to her as they weren’t even together. It was funny how the whole world had believed in them, except for him. He’d told her he loved her, so why weren’t they together now? He’d said he wasn’t ready, so why was he holding hands with someone else on the street? Was it because of her? Was it something that she’d done? Was there something wrong with her? Why couldn’t he choose her? Y/N had pondered over those questions for months until she came to accept that there didn’t have to be a reason for someone to leave you. They simply lost feelings or found someone else. No one owed you an explanation.

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

For months, he'd been a ghost living rent-free in her head. She saw him in every face and every crowd, and she could even, in this moment, hear the sound of his laugh somewhere in the audience. She could hear him telling her he was proud of her, that everything would be okay. And the worst part was that, without her, he was still doing fine. He wouldn’t see her everywhere he went. He wouldn’t think about her when he was lying in bed and couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t wonder if she missed him. Because he didn’t miss her. And he would be saying the same things he’d said to her to his new girl.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe (Ooh, ooh)

There on the stage, she received sympathetic looks from the people in the front row as she cried her heart out to the lyrics. He might be at home this moment, watching the show with his new girlfriend, and seeing her cry on live television. Would they laugh at her together? Would he turn to his girlfriend and say he was sorry for how he’d treated Y/N and promised to never hurt his girlfriend the same way? The most heartbreaking thing, Y/N thought, wasn’t him leaving, but seeing him treat someone the way she’d wanted to be treated and realising that he’d been capable of doing it all this time, just not with her.

I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Putting all her feelings into this song had made everything seem so much simpler and clearer. And at the end of the day, Y/N believed that the whole purpose of songwriting was to get closure. Perhaps, one day, when she listened to this song again, she wouldn’t be sad anymore.

Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

.

.

.

“Good job, Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

“Love the song! You’re amazing.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N faked a few more smiles then shut the door of her dressing room and slumped into her chair in front of the vanity.

All alone, she looked right at her reflection and took a deep breath.

Her phone buzzed and lit up with a new text message.

Harry: Congratulations on your no 1 :) xx

She pondered over the words, picked up her phone, and deleted his contact.

[sunwoo-hoo]

↣ kevin moon ☽ as your boyfriend

↳ a/n: hello lovelies! here we go! this is the headcanon for the moonlight boy himself kevin! this is for you anon. I hope you enjoy it! please, if your under the age of 18 do not interact with this post.

↳ genre: fluff, smut, angst??

↳ send me your requests here!

↳ word count: 839

↳ kevin moon x fem reader

↳ General

COMEDIC DUO

your so lucky to have a guy like kevin in your life 

your relationship is very laid back and easy going

he’s the type who doesn’t care if you wear makeup or if you walk out the house in sweatpants

to him your perfect regardless 

your relationship is very effortless

it’s non stop laughs whenever your around him

he the type to text you memes while your sitting right next to each other 

“babe look at this real quick” he laughed barely holding it together

the type to do a double date with jacob and his s/o 

but you also have one on one dates which include late night driving blasting your favorite music singing together

would probably eat at a late night drive thru 

family is really important to kevin so he would definitely want to show you where he grew up in vancouver 

meeting his family in the process

his love language is definitely words of affirmation

he loves it when you tell him he’s doing a good job or when you leave little notes for him to find 

he greatly appreciates you

he’s definitely teaching you how to play piano 

at first you think he’s going to teach you classical pieces but it’s literally all beyonce 

he’s always singing all of me to you by john legend

he loves it when you kiss his nose finding it adorable

he’s then giving you all the jawline kisses

you love stealing his clothes especially his hoodies because it smells like him

he doesn’t mind at all in fact he encourages you to wear his clothes

he secretly loves to draw you when you aren’t looking

you have the type of relationship where everyone thinks your similar to each other 

basically the boy/girl version of each other

your two peas in pod 

together your both unstoppable there’s nothing you can’t do

↳ Fights

kevin is big on communicating so he’ll probably want to have a rational discussion before things escalate too quickly into a fight

he’s also not the type to waste his energy over the little things

so fighting with him is rare to nonexistent 

the only time you do ‘fight’ it’s probably because he’s saying something sarcastic and hurt your feelings without realizing

“damn babe, you know i was just joking right? i didn’t mean for it to come out that way. can you forgive me?” he pouted

you rolled eyes playfully before replying “ugh fine..” you teased sticking your tongue out 

next thing you know he’s giving you all the tickles by your ribs while your laughing uncontrollably 

↳ Making Up

if the fight was somewhat bad he’s definitely the type to try to laugh about it afterwards with you

or is finding ways to make you laugh like watching funny youtube compilations that may or may not include animals

he’s definitely cuddling you giving you all neck and cheek kisses 

playing with your hair

↳ Sex

switch™ 2.0 

definitely the type to have music in the background while you two are fucking

he secretly loves it when you dom him because he loves giving all the power to you

definitely tie him up and give him the teasing blowjobs

“fuck babe, don’t tease me i need you right now, please..” he moaned

he loves it when your on top because he can grab your hips and thrust in a precise angle which hits your g-spot perfectly making you cum 

you hear all the praise coming from him 

“yeah fuck, hop on my cock.. just like that.. your doing such a good job” 

you’ll definitely have toys in the bedroom kevin is not afraid to experiment 

he loves it when you pull his hair especially when he’s fucking you, please give him all the praise back 

“god kevin i-i’m gonna cum soon your so fucking big” you cried out 

he’s in love with your breasts so expect a lot of breast fucking with his cock between them

when kevin dom’s he’s an entirely different person 

will usually dom when he’s feeling stressed or overworked 

praise goes out the window it’s nothing but dirty talk

“get on your fucking knees and suck this cock” he snapped

“yes sir” you replied looking up at him with doe eyes

definitely will have some light choking covering your mouth to muffle your moans 

as he’s trusting into you deeply and sloppily 

he loves to cum on your breast or lips

when it’s all over he’s collapsing on the bed beside you giving you a high-five with a quick peck on your lips 

telling you that it was amazing and that he loves you

↳ Aftercare

your both cuddling for awhile not wanting to move from your spot until kevin suggests that you should clean yourselves up

your then taking a bath together just enjoying each other’s company

until you finally head to bed where he’s playing a lullaby on his piano in your shared bedroom waiting for you to fall asleep before joining you 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* © sunwoo-hoo 2 0 2 1  ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[ysljoon]

Lunchbox Friends|Park Jimin x Reader

This fanfic is mature so please avoid if you are not 18+. This is also a yandere fic so there are sensitive topics.

Warnings: Drinking/mentions of alcohol, partying, oral sex (f receiving), assault (Jungkook gets punched by Jimin), choking, noncon sex, Jimin is a peeping tom, masturbation, creampie. threats, mentions of a knife

Jimin had been by your side since middle school and you guys have been stuck together by the hip since then and refuse to separate. You don’t ever plan on living your life without him as he has seen you at your highest highs and your lowest lows. He knows you inside and out and you wouldn’t want this any other way. It wasn’t until you guys went to college that you realized your friendship had overstepping boundaries. It wasn’t noticeable to you until your friends pointed it out to you and even then you were still in denial. Why would your best friend suddenly not look out for you? It just didn’t make sense to you and you wanted to push it out of your mind.

Tonight was Hoseok and Jungkook’s party and you felt the whole campus buzzing with excitement. You were never close with Hoseok, but you had a few run-ins with Jungkook since he was friends with Jimin and Jimin had introduced him to you. Jungkook seemed like a sweet person and you had your eye on him for a while so you thought tonight was the perfect night to make your move on him. Once your classes were done you took the shuttle to your shared apartment with Jimin to get your outfit ready for tonight. When you reached the apartment you saw Jimin on the couch just watching TV.

“Y/N! You’re back, come give me a hug I missed you!” You dropped your bag by the couch and collapsed in his lap. He attacked you with tight hugs and kisses on the top of your head. Your friendship is very close and touchy, but this is just what happens after years of friendship so boundaries were very few and far between. You snuggled in his lap and scrolled on your phone to kill time and he continued to watch some drama filled reality show that he constantly loved to watch.

As time passed you realized it was an hour before the party so you tried to get up from Jimin’s lap but he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you down. “Y/N can’t we just stay here for the night you can have so much fun with just me! We don’t need to go to some dumb party to have fun on a Friday.” Jimin whined, but you pried yourself from his arms and made your way to the bathroom to shower. You stepped in the shower and played music to get you in a hype mood to be in the party mindset. You were singing your heart out and didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open to create a slight opening that allowed your body to be exposed to prying eyes. Those prying eyes belonged to Jimin and you were unsuspecting of the fact.

Jimin ogled your naked body in the shower through the steamy glass panes and it started to make his pants tighten. Jimin started to palm himself while admiring the curves of your ass and breasts. You were in the middle of shampooing your hair, your bottle of body wash fell off the shelf and you bent over to pick it up and that had Jimin groaning from pleasure. He unbuttoned his pants and slid his underwear down enough where he could fist his cock with ease. He filthily spit into his hand and rubbed his dick slowly to not build up to his orgasm too quickly. You started to sway your hips back and forth to the rhythm of the upbeat song in your playlist. This had you looking so sexy in Jimin’s eyes. He wasn’t only getting off on how good your soapy body looked in the shower, but also the thrill of knowing he’s jerking off to his best friend who doesn't know how much he wants to ruin her right on the spot. Jimin hurriedly came to his orgasm when he realized you were almost done with your shower and hurried to his room when he stroked out his high.

You finished getting ready and slipped on a tight dress. You slipped on your shoes and waited for Jimin on the couch. After 10 minutes of impatience you knocked on his door and he swung it open after the second knock. “It really surprises me how impatient you are, it’s a wonder how I’ve tolerated you for this long.” You just rolled your eyes in response and grabbed his hand to leave.

Once you enter the house party you notice both Hoseok and Jungkook talking in the kitchen. Just seeing Jungkook brought butterflies to your tummy. Before you made your way to the men you found the table filled with bottles of drinks and poured yourself about two shots worth of fireball and downed it in one big gulp. You needed liquid courage if you wanted to make any progress with Jungkook tonight. Jimin watched you with wide eyes at your sudden behavior and you just gave him a wide smile while you made your strides to the kitchen. Jimin stood in his spot dumbfounded on how easily you left him. It irked him and made him feel disposable. He tried to brush off the feeling but it loomed over him for the rest of the night. He followed the direction you traveled to and saw you talking to Jungkook. You were giggling to no end and your cheeks were so round from how much you were smiling. This whole night bothered Jimin as he expected to spend it with you and only true. He walked away from the scene and moped on the couch while watching the party go down. If he continued to watch you throw yourself at his friend he would end up doing something he would regret.

“Y/N I’m surprised we haven’t properly hung out, you’re so much fun outside of class!” You rolled your eyes at his comment and poured yourself another mixed drink. The drinks helped you and Jungkook start to get cozy with each other. Hoseok even left you two alone when he noticed the atmosphere start to change between you two. Somehow the two of you managed to get rid of any space between each other and were now in close enough proximity to be skin to skin. The two of you were drunk enough to be bold but also not drunk enough to forget what happens if your actions don’t work in your favor. You started to eye his lips and Jungkook noticed because he started to come closer to you and get rid of the already nonexistent space between you two. Slowly your lips started to mold together and your stomach felt like there were fireworks bursting inside you. The two of you pulled away and Jungkook kept his hand on the small of your back. “Y/N, I hope you take me up on this offer or I’ll feel like a total idiot, but do you want to go up to my room and continue?” You were quick to agree and fervently nodded. Jungkook gave you a grin and took your hand in his and you two were quick to go up the stairs to his room.

Jimin saw you two go up the stairs and now he was livid. His best friend ditched him to go get fucked by his friend. You were selfish and he was going to make you regret your decision of being such a whore in front of him. He downed his drink and rushed up the stairs to Jungkook’s room. He swung open the door to find you completely naked and Jungkook’s head between your thighs. Oh how he wishes it was him instead. You looked at JImin mortified and crawled under Jungkook’s bedsheet with haste. Jungkook came close to your side and held your shaking body. “J-Jimin you could’ve at least knocked or something!” You were borderline angry at this point as Jimin wasn’t taking any hint to leave. Jimin took it upon himself to invite himself further into the room and locked the door behind himself. Now Jungkook was starting to get agitated. “Bro you’re my friend and all, but I really think you should go right now. I wasn’t doing anything to your best friend that she doesn’t want.” Jimin was furious to hear Jungkook’s words and in a blind fit of rage he punched Jungkook out cold and watched his body drop to the floor with a loud thud. “Jimin! What on Earth are you doing?” Now you really were scared as you have never seen Jimin act out so violently.

“Y/N, you have no idea how much I want you and have fantasized about you. Now you’re going to see tonight how I’ll make you mine!” He grabbed you by your throat and threw you down on the bed. You started to strain yourself to get any chance to breathe, but any chance you got Jimin held onto your throat tighter. He had a sinister look on his face and you were scared for your life. When your vision started to go in and out from darkness Jimin released his grasp on you and you dry heaved for oxygen. He did that just to put you in a weakened state and he used it to his advantage. He crawled on the bed and loomed over your body and grabbed your legs to drag you closer to him. He tried to force his head between your thighs but you clamped them together but he managed to pry them open. He gave you a hard slap on the back of your thigh. “Princess you won’t like me if you disobey me and fight back so just please just let me love you.” Jimin tried to give you a soft look, but you can still see the darkness embedded into his eyes. You forced yourself to comply without making eye contact. The idea of your best friend was gone and you would do anything to have him back and not have this monster in front of you.

Jimin lowered his head down to your core and gave you kitten licks on your clit. You felt so much sensitivity and you clamped your legs around his head. You felt Jimin let out a light chuckle and you tried to block the sound out of your mind. You tried to make the situation better for yourself by imagining that it was just Jungkook above you instead of Jimin taking advantage of you. Once Jimin had his fill of eating you out he lifted himself up and freed himself from his pants. Once he had his cock out he shoved himself into your tight, wet cunt with no mercy and you gripped onto the sheets with a vice grip. “Kitten, don't you love how my fat cock feels in your hole? Don’t I make you feel so good.” You had your eyes shut trying to acclimatize to his cock, but the pain was taking too long to subside. Without even getting a chance to answer, Jimin grabbed your jaw to make you look at him. “Y/N, I want an answer. Tell me how good I make you feel.” You felt so embarrassed, but you just needed to give him an answer to please him. “Y-yes you make me feel so good! “ Jimin loved how his cock looked sliding in and out of your pussy and how your tits bounced and that it brought him close to his orgasm. You felt his grip get tighter on your hips and you felt his thrusts get rougher and his groans get louder. You knew he reached his high when you felt his hips stutter and his cum start to leak out from your hole. Once he was out of you he got dressed like what just happened was not troubling. You stared at the ceiling and felt the tears drip down your cheeks. Just when you thought it was all over Jimin’s body was above you again and this time he had a pocket knife pressed to your throat. “If you ever try to get with Jungkook or anyone else I will kill you. You are mine and only mine you need to know that.”

Notes: I hope you guys are currently enjoying the start of my yandere series! I will eventually get to all the members. I am also working on making a masterlist so in the mean time if you would like to find my other works you can find them under the tag ‘bts fanfiction’ or ‘bts fanfic’ if you search my page! Again if you liked what you read please leave a like and a reblog it really helps! You can also give me a Kofi if you would like to help support my work!

[obae-me]

Hi sweetheart! I was wondering if I could request for a headcannon about Solomon casting a spell and suddenly all the brothers turn into lil smol kids? and how would MC take care of/interact with them? I just neeeeeed some fluff in my life, and the idea of tiny demons makes my heart explode. hope you have a great week! ♥️

Hi, thank you for this request, I had to write it immediately. The fluff, the softness, it’s exactly what I needed to write today, I hope this is good fluff for you! 💜

There’s a bit of exposition because I had some strong creativity for it, after it is the Headcanons!

“So what exactly is this supposed to do again?” MC asked, watching as Solomon sprinkled some strange herbs and unknown ingredients into a large glass beaker, occasionally muttering a few words and casting spells while the mixture sparkled. They were both in MC’s room, Solomon teaching them some spells and magic in exchange for some quality time together.

“It’s a youth potion,” Solomon explained. “I used to make it for other humans. The elderly used my diluted versions to help with pain or memory. However…” He dumped an entire jar of some sort of sickly pulsating liquid that had the same rainbowy shimmer that spilled oil had. “Demons don’t typically age the same way humans do, so sometimes they ask me for this so they can blend in with children. However, diluted versions won’t affect anything down here. So be careful. One wrong drop on you and it won’t be pleasant.” He watched as the contents in the container started to condense and squeeze through a tube before landing in a little glass bottle. Solomon tightly shoved a cork into it’s opening and then closed his eyes, chanting a spell. What had been a gross metallic color was now a perfect clear concoction, little sparkling bubbles endlessly fizzing throughout. “And there you have it.” He smirked, flipping the bottle in the air before catching it perfectly, putting it in one of his pants pockets. With a wave of his hand, all of his stuff that he had used to make the potion vanished.

MC shook their head. “This wasn’t exactly what I thought we would be doing when you said you were going to come over and show me magic. I’d lie if I said it wasn’t cool, though.” They went over and opened their bedroom door, Solomon following them out into the hallway. “Can I come deliver it with you?”

“You know how dangerous my drop-offs can be, can you show me that you’ve perfected that defensive spell I taught you last week?” Solomon looked down at them with a smile, hand curled around his chin. MC sighed, they weren’t even nearly close to casting that spell well, much less perfectly. Solomon apologized with a laugh as they both headed down the stairs to the front entrance.

“Oi, you done fooling around with MC yet?” They both saw Mammon leaned against the wall as he watched the stairs, a scowl on his face. Ever since the sorcerer had been coming more often to see MC, Mammon had been much more hostile towards him. Solomon didn’t mind, in fact he got a rise out of seeing Mammon get so jealous.

“Yes, Mammon, I’m just about to leave.”

Mammon grinned and swung the doors wide open, gesturing for Solomon to get out. “Great, here’s the door, bye now!”

Solomon looked at MC with a smile, bringing them close into a hug, squinting at Mammon over their shoulder as he soaked in the look Mammon had on his face. He pulled apart and MC was none the wiser on their interaction behind their back. “Wish me luck with the drop-off.”

MC exclaimed to him how they wished him all the luck in the three realms, and Mammon moved out of his way to personally bump shoulders with Solomon as he made his way out the door. Neither of the humans had noticed Mammon’s pickpocketing skills as he slipped an important small bottle into his own pocket.

***

“Is there any particular reason why you’re not eating?” Lucifer questioned, watching MC play with their food instead of eating it.

MC snapped out of a little daze, bringing a halt to shoving around their meal with their fork. “Ah, oh, I guess I’m just thinking about something.”

Mammon growled. “What you don’t want to taste the food I slaved over making for everyone today?” He opened his mouth, probably to say something snarky about Solomon, but Satan interrupted him.

“Speaking of what you made, what did you put in it? It’s making me awfully nostalgic. I can’t help but think of meals from centuries ago.” He said it with a slight smile on his face. All of the brothers minus Lucifer voiced their agreement. Whatever it was, it brought back sweet memories, some of them going back and forth between stories of what being first created was like. MC leaned back in their chair, trying to comprehend what it would be like to just...exist fully without having to go through childhood.

Mammon grinned, one hand on his hips. “See I knew it would be great, and it’s all thanks to my genius.” He pulled something out of his pocket, holding it between his fingers as he waved it around in the air. “I knew whatever that sketchy sorcerer had on him had to be good.” MC’s body froze, eyes focused on the bottle Mammon possessed, the same size and style of the one Solomon had put in his pocket. The only difference was the contents were missing.

MC opened their mouth, ready to demand that everyone stop eating, but unfortunately it was already too late. The only thing Mammon had done perfectly was time his reveal right before the potion went into effect, all the brothers bowling over and collapsing to the ground. Their clothes and bodies magically shifting into miniature versions of themselves.

Lucifer

He was the first to get up, taking in the now larger scale of everything around him. Noticing especially how MC was on their knees beside him and yet was at the same height level. He felt the lungs in his chest tighten, now looking at his younger brothers, who...were now all exceptionally young. All looking like humans did at around the age of five. He screamed Mammon’s name, but cut himself off short when he heard what his voice sounded like now, his small hands cupping his own throat. He looked at MC once more, seeing the reflection of his child-like body in their eyes. His pride might as well have been shattered on the ground. Before he was seen in this embarrassing state any further, he sped off to his room.

He did his best to prevent MC from following him into his bedroom by leaning into the door with his own body. He was even more crushed to find not only did he not have most of his power, but he was extremely weak and vulnerable. Not to mention he was feeling raw emotions. He would control himself, he had to control himself. When MC came into the room they saw him standing there with his best attempt at a death glare, arms folded across his tiny red vest.

It didn’t do nearly what he wanted it to. MC saw the small Lucifer, his usually sharp-edged face now covered in soft curves, his piercing eyes now hidden behind floppy hair too big for his head. He didn’t even seem to realise his lips were in a strong pout. MC almost felt like crying looking at him, and they stifled a laugh.

Being laughed at was the final cut at his pride already barely hanging on by a flimsy string. This form he had now was unable to control emotions like his typical body could. Big tears started rolling down his face as he ran towards MC, his only thought being comfort.

“Don’t laugh at me! Change me back!” He wailed. MC scooped him up in their arms, apologizing deeply about laughing. They pet his small head, feeling two nubs poking out from under his hair where he usually had his horns when he was in demon form. Once he let all of his emotions out, he dried his own eyes and calmed down.

His new state didn’t keep him from being any less bossy, standing there, barely up to MC’s waist, head held high as he continued to try to tell MC and his brothers what to do. He didn’t like having MC be the head of the house, at all, even though they now had to take care of all of them. If MC has to tell him to stop hitting Mammon or go to bed, he’ll usually throw a tantrum. He will not be told what to do, he’s not a child, he’s not! MC takes this time to give the Prideful First-born Demon a scolding, and after the first few times he’s forced to sit in timeout, he begrudgingly obeys MC for the rest of the curse.

He’ll do his best as the older brother to help MC take care of everyone, but he’ll end up being one of the most needy. He’ll follow MC around, copying them, doing exactly what they’re doing. If MC tells one of the brothers to do something, he’ll repeat them, doing the same gesture in order to regain a more authoritative status. He likes to also stand on tables and chairs, he needs to be above everyone.

Until he’s back to normal, MC puts him to bed at the same time every night, helping him change into smaller versions of his PJ's (delivered thanks to Diavolo). The only way he can fall asleep is if MC sings old lullabies he hasn’t heard in millennia.

Mammon

When he woke up, he didn’t really comprehend the new change in his form. He was blind to the fact that he had accidentally turned himself and his brothers into children. He still wasn’t done feeling angry about Solomon, being greedy over who MC spends their time with. When he saw MC, he strutted up to them, not understanding that MC now towered over him. He put his hands on his hips, chewing MC out for hanging out with the sorcerer. His filter in his childish state was even worse, almost nonexistent, and he called Solomon by words that should not be coming out of any tiny mouth.

“Mammon!”

Hearing that almost degrading stern tone coming from MC made him stop in his tracks. He tilted his head back to look up at them. Since when did he have to look up that much? Since when had the furniture in his home been so big? He looked around at the other little chaotic bodies in the room, finally connecting that the little tykes were his brothers. He grabbed the bottom of MC’s shirt.

“What did Solomon do to us?!”

“Solomon didn’t do anything, did you steal his potion?” MC had their arms folded like a much too familiar older brother of his, looking at him with a frown. They sounded...disappointed. He started to blink away moisture he didn’t comprehend was tears. MC had to repeat themselves. “Mammon, did you steal from Solomon, yes or no?” He stuttered out a quiet yes, looking down at the floor.

MC rubbed the sides of his little arms and turned him around to look at the rest of his siblings who seemed to be waiting. Most of them looked angry, ready to beat Mammon down with their tiny fists, but MC ordered them all to stay there and listen. If it weren’t for the fact that somehow now MC seemed much scarier, they wouldn't be obedient. MC told Mammon to apologize to them since he got them all in this predicament in the first place. He stood there for a long time, doing his best to bribe his way out of the situation, but MC wouldn’t budge. When he finally said his sorries, he did so with a waterfall of tears, turning and crying into MC’s leg, explaining that he only did this because he didn’t want Solomon to steal MC away anymore.

During the time they’re all affected, MC realizes exactly why Lucifer is always so hard on Mammon. He just never stops. He’s a ball of energy, always getting into something, always leaving a mess wherever he goes. MC has their hands full just keeping up with him.

He never wants to share toys with his brothers, and MC oftentimes has to get everyone something of their own so Mammon doesn’t steal. He also somehow got into MCs phone and used their information to buy several things off of Akuzon. MC punished him by locking away all his toys. It didn’t last long, however, because Mammon kept whimpering, fluttering his long eyelashes over his big shimmering gold-speckled eyes. He’d endlessly call MC’s name over and over again, cuddling into them and begging for his stuff back. Just his soft adorable face alone could get MC to give him anything he wanted.

Mammon is always with MC, and he’ll get angry over anyone who wants to play with them. He wanted them! He did! The only reason why this happened was because he wanted to be with them. So he didn’t want anyone else around.

MC puts him to sleep by rubbing his back over his little fragile wings and sings sleepy songs about the stuff they’ll buy for him.

Levi

He was absolutely mortified. It took him awhile just to get to his feet, he was shaking so badly with embarrassment. As if he wasn’t already self conscious enough, now he was...he was. He snuck away and hid while MC was distracted with his six other insane brothers. He didn’t want to be like that, he didn’t want to be a bother. He didn’t want to be a needy child! And yet he could feel his tiny body filled with Envy. The way MC was holding, coddling, and taking care of everyone else, why weren’t they doing that for him?

When MC went looking for him, they followed the sound of small sniffles. It wouldn’t have been hard to find him anyway, since his big hiding place was in the comfort of his room. He was huddled under his gaming desk, clutching a Ruri-chan plushie to his cheek, speckled in his tears. When MC called his name he scattered to another corner of his room, pulling his tiny hood over his tiny face. He wanted to get into his tub-bed, but he couldn’t even pull himself in.

“Levi, do you want to tell me why you’re upset?”

He shook his head vigorously, managing to make himself seem so small he was hidden behind the plushie he was gripping. He didn’t seem to want to speak so MC had to play the guessing game. He wasn’t upset over Mammon, he wasn’t upset at anyone else, and then when MC asked if he was upset about himself, he got real quiet. MC consoled him by telling him this was a temporary setback, something akin to the shows he watches. It was just a filler episode, not a major plot point, so he had nothing to worry about. Normally this would’ve helped cheer him up just fine, but it wasn’t enough, so MC had to bribe him out of hiding by telling him they would watch all the shows he wanted until he was better.

When he came out, he rushed to them, burying his face in their clothes and cried so hard he gave himself the hiccups. MC was confused, thinking that they were trying their best to convince him to feel better, not to sob. MC did their best to make him feel better, rocking back and forth with him in their arms, rubbing his back, even turning on his consoles so he could play. He only felt satisfied when he thought he was getting the same amount of attention his brothers were getting.

He’s the biggest crybaby and the epitome of the “it’s not fair” child. If Mammon has more toys than him, he’s going to cry. If MC tells him he has to go to his room, he’s going to cry. If Beel ends up eating some of his food, yep, he’s going to cry. MC has a panic attack over how dehydrated this kid is going to be and has to constantly give him water to drink.

The only time he’s relatively happy is when MC has him in their lap as they hang out in his room, playing a game or watching a show. The best way to get him to sleep is to put on a documentary. Puts him out like a light.

Satan

When he woke up, it was like all hell had broken loose, and that could mean either figuratively or literally at this point. He was a tiny ball of rage. No later than five seconds of consciousness before he was on top of Mammon ready to kill him for turning them all to kids. He was definitely that kid who solved problems with fights. MC had to quickly rush over and pick him up only to have Satan kicking, punching, and screaming. He flailed in their arms, and MC had to drag him into a private room to quickly get things straight.

“I know this is inconvenient, and I know you’re angry, but no kicking, no punching, I don’t want to see you lay a hand on anyone, understand?”

He did understand, logically, but no matter what he tried telling his brain, his body didn’t want to follow. Even as his normal self it was hard keeping all that anger under control, and now as this...this...thing he was, all he wanted to do was scream. So scream he did, he shrieked for hours, MC doing their best to keep him safe as he tore up and almost destroyed his own room. He yelled so loudly for so long he lost his voice, resorting then to something he didn’t know was an option. Angry tears.

He took the bottom of his small green shirt and balled it up in his hands, looking confused as wet drops fell from his face. His voice now gone, all that was left was squeaks as his tiny frame started to shudder. He let MC hold him tight as he cried, scrunching up the fabric of their clothes tightly as all the pent up emotion he usually kept inside him had no choice but to keep flooding out of his eyes. MC shushed him, trying to tell him that this was an experience that would benefit his education and curiosity.

It took him a long long time to calm down, but when he did, his demeanor was similar to the one MC was most used to, the quiet curious Satan. Occasionally MC did have to keep him from losing his temper, doing their best to not have to scream at the small demon for having knives or breaking things. But most of the time he read books, books that were too big for his now smaller hands to hold. He either had the book wide open in his lap, or he had MC hold it for him as he sat in their lap. MC adored how he would tilt his head back against their chest, looking at them while politely asking them to turn the page. On the rare occasion, sometimes MC would find Satan outside, using a stick to pick at bugs in the dirt, watching how they move. They would’ve almost found it cute till they realized he was using them to fight to the death. MC monitors him anytime he’s outside now.

He’s the hardest to get to sleep, he’s always asking MC endless questions. MC is never sure if he’s testing their knowledge or asking them in earnest. Either way, it’s always way too late in the night for wondering what the world would be like if giraffes were as popular as a common household cat. He always needs a warm hot chocolate, a boring book, and MC’s angelic patience before he’ll finally drift to sleep.

Asmo

When he regains consciousness and looks at himself in the mirror after the event, he cannot get over how adorable he is. He looks so squeezable and huggable. But then...he feels...hollow? While all the other sins are things that are easily available as kids, his...is gone. He’s missing those...adult urges he’s so used to feeling. His normal burning desire, his flirtation, his charm, all vanished along with his adult appearance. He almost takes this harder than Lucifer. He’s not sure how to act, how to feel, his whole life in the Devildom was driven around his core sin.

MC is infinitely concerned when Asmo doesn’t smile, doesn’t speak, doesn’t know how to, well, how to do anything. They do their best to cheer him up with the other things he loves. They dress him up in adorable clothes, they pet his head and tell him how cute he is, but this is enormously hard for him. The typically boisterous Asmo was now nonchalant.

It takes a while for MC to convince him that he is Asmo, he is not his sin. He might be more easily persuaded by it, but that’s not all there is to him. They hold his whole tiny face in their hands, thumbs rubbing his wet cheeks dry. They tell him they miss his bubbly nature, his cute voice, his endless compliments, his sweet disposition. They want Asmo back. This little speech with added cuddles brings Asmo back for the most part.

He’s the sweetest little kid MC has ever met. He’s always cheering his brothers up, pulling off doll fashion shows, and making sure MC feels appreciated. He wants to be in their arms almost 24/7, wanting to be carted around if MC can manage. This whole experience causes him to feel something in his chest that makes him feel a kind of warm and fuzzy that he’s never felt before. It’s not lust...but something sweeter, more innocent and he’s not sure what to call it.

MC almost was going to reward him for being the best kid in the household till they spent hours helping him get clean after he did his best to do a spectacular makeover. He was unaware of how hard it was to maneuver these bodies, and now his face and room was a mess. MC was just thankful that the mess was on him and he didn’t attempt to give MC the makeover.

Asmo will only sleep with MC holding him. Something about the cold darkness of his room when he’s alone makes him panic. He likes being able to feel comforted, hearing MC’s heartbeat while they work on smothering him in adorable chaste kisses, his little giggles adorably addicting. That same warm feeling in his heart letting him feel comfortable enough to shut his eyes and get some rest.

Beel

He woke up holding onto Belphie’s hand only to find that the hand he was holding was much smaller than he remembered. Upon further discovery, all of Belphie was much smaller than he remembered. It takes him a few minutes to connect the dots since he was getting distracted on the food still on the dinner table, but once he figures it out, he just blinks. He’s the only one fairly calm about it. Sure he’s upset, but he likes to be an optimist, and by being this small, all his portions of food are all that much bigger.

His size does end up being an inconvenience for him, though. Most of his favorite snacks are high on the shelves in hard to reach cupboards. Not to mention now MC refuses to let him near the stove, so he can’t cook himself anything. He eats more than any human child should and yet he feels like he’s starving.

He can’t help but run to MC and softly beg for more snacks, gently tugging on their clothes. Most of the time, MC obliges, petting his soft red hair while he eats his food and lets his legs dangle off the edge of his seat. Until he starts letting his gluttony take over and steals his sibling’s snacks.

MC tried punishing him by taking away dessert privileges that night, not knowing what kind of monster they unleashed when they told him no. His shining eyes went darker, and the best mannered kid MC knew went sour in a heartbeat. He threw a massive demonic tantrum, screaming, throwing food and plates, causing MC to break down and give him what he wanted, drying his tears with an exasperated sigh while they now had to clean up broken glass and wipe down the entire kitchen.

He was the easiest to take care of in every other aspect, though, as long as he wasn’t denied food. He’d help MC and Lucifer watch his brothers, breaking up fights and comforting them when they cry. He would squeeze each of them tightly, as supportive as ever. He would even still do his best to protect MC in his state. Even as tiny as he was he still put his whole body into his hugs, acting like MC wasn’t now twice the size he was. He would clean up his messes without MC having to ask, and he’d go to bed as long as he had a bedtime snack and a glass of warm milk. He’d insist on tucking Belphie into bed, and then sweetly wish MC goodnight.

Belphie

He took forever to wake up, almost giving MC a heart attack wondering if he had been put into some sort of infantile coma. He eventually got up, opening his eyes to himself in MC’s arms. He wasn’t going to complain, they were very comfortable. When he realized he now resembled a small child...he was too tired to complain. He never did anything different from his normal form anyway. Sleep, eat if he needed to, be highly slothful and irritated. He was so similar to his usual mood, it amused MC greatly. They didn’t want to say that this meant he was always a baby but...the facts were right in front of them.

Adult, child, it didn’t matter, he was going to be monotone, demanding, and sleep as much as possible. In fact, now that he didn’t have responsibilities and Lucifer breathing down his neck, he was sleeping more than usual, and he demanded that MC carry him. If he was awake and MC ever put him down, he would cry until he got picked back up, comfortably against MC’s hip, face nestled in MC’s neck. It makes it so much harder for MC to get stuff done, but they can’t give up the feeling of his little eyelashes and bangs brushing against their skin, the smallest hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. Plus, if they do anything he doesn’t like, he’ll pull on their hair, so it's best to keep him happy.

The first night they had changed, MC put Belphie in his own bed, tucked him in and wished him sweet dreams, and once they were sure all the brothers were asleep, they went to their room and went to bed for the night, absolutely exhausted. Not even an hour after they went to bed, they felt a large weight on their body. They opened their eyes and saw Belphie, his skin shining in the moonlight from tears.

“Bad dream?”

He nodded, making a small sniffling noise. MC lifted up the blankets, letting him crawl in. He got close to them, keeping the fabric of their pajamas in a death grip. MC put their arm around him, making him feel safe and sleepy. He dried his tears and shut his eyes, not having any nightmares during the night.

Only, now, he won’t go to sleep in his own bed, it has to be with MC. Of course, this makes all the brothers jealous, and so after one night of some semblance of peace is resulted in seven little demon brothers all bundled up close together, each needy for MC’s warmth and attention.

After

It was an entire week before Solomon came back with the completed antidote for the potion. It tasted disgusting, and MC and Solomon had to wrangle all the demons, holding them down to get them to take it. It was surprising after all their frustration towards their position that they would be hesitant to return to normal.

After they’re back in their normal bodies, each of them are as red as tomatoes, looking at the floor instead of MC’s face. None of them will mention what happened, even if MC tries to tease them about it, they act like they have amnesia. None of them remember all the photos that MC had taken of them, nor do they know about all the ones they’ve shared to Diavolo.

[angryinternetduck]

‘twas the night before tour

925 words on the night before harry leaves for tour :( harry styles x reader

Dinner was quiet. 

You sat next to each other, practically silent between bites. Both of you wanted to talk about it - you wanted to beg him, irrationally, to stay, and Harry wanted to apologize. Harry wanted to apologize, wanted to tell you he loves you and needs you and would never leave your side if he could. 

But at the same time, neither of you wanted to think about it. Harry didn’t want to think about the car that would come in the morning, about the plane or the landing or being apart from you. You didn’t want to think about the big empty house, about the one cup of coffee you’d pour in the morning, about the empty bed you’d curl up in at night. 

You wanted to live, just for a second, in that fantasy that tomorrow wouldn’t come. That tonight would last forever, that you’d wake up tomorrow to realize time had frozen and it wasn’t tomorrow at all. 

Weirdly, though, you hated this, too. You hated the silence. It was heavy. Still. Loud. 

It was when you were cleaning up that he broke the ice. Your back was to him, cleaning dishes, when you heard him give a wry laugh and you felt his arms around your waist. “This is ridiculous,” he mumbled into your shoulder. 

You feigned ignorance. “What is?” you asked, bumping your shoulder against him just a bit and turning slightly to kiss his nose. He looked up at you, pouting a bit. “You’re so quiet,” he murmured, and you sighed, drying your hands before turning around and resting your hands on his chest. 

“It’s weird,” you said, looking at your hands for a second before quirking a smile and looking up at him. “We’ve never been apart this long.” Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. He held your gaze for a second, letting the silence draw out, settle back in, before breaking it again. 

“You haven’t asked me to stay,” he whispered. 

Your smile faded, and you bit your lip, hesitating as you picked at a nonexistent piece of lint on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “No,” you finally decided. You cleared your throat, shaking your head. “No,” you said again, “I haven’t. Because I don’t want you to.” 

“What,” Harry began, a teasing lilt to his voice as he leaned into you and spoke softly into your ear, “should I leave early?” You giggled, shaking your head again. “Of course not,” you murmured. “Of course not. But you’d hate staying.” 

He sighed. “I know.” 

“You’re much too narcissistic to stay here, with just me as your audience…” 

“This is true,” Harry agreed with a shrug.

You groaned, laughing as you slipped out of his hold and gently pulled him into the living room. “Let’s dance,” you suggested, spinning yourself around and into his arms. “Dance, hm?” Harry asked, kissing you instead. “Let’s skip the foreplay, darling.” 

“You’re impossible,” you giggled, pulling away and thumbing through his record collection. “C’mon, we need something… something…” You faded off, concentrating, and Harry appeared behind you, his arms winding around your waist again as he swayed to his own melody. 

“Ah-ha!” you exclaimed triumphantly, holding up a record. 

“Sinatra and Company,” Harry read, and then looked at you. 

“Leaving on a Jet Plane,” you clarified. 

Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. “How perfect.” 

You set the disk on the record player and gently set the needle down, then spun around and held your hand out to Harry. “Dance with me, Styles,” you said, and you watched him smile despite himself as he let you pull him into the center of the room. 

As the music began and you led him around in a clumsy waltz, you sang. “All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go…” Harry bit his lip, hiding his grin with an eye roll, and shook his head as you looked at him expectantly. 

“I’m standing here, outside your door,” you sang for him, “I hate to wake you up to say goodbye…” When you looked up at him, pleading with your eyes, Harry took his arm off your waist for a moment to mime zipping and locking his lips. 

You pouted and spun around, being dramatic enough for the both of you. “So kiss me, and smile for me… tell me that you’ll wait for me…” You spun into his arms, throwing your arms over his shoulders. “... hold me like you’ll never let me goooo…” 

You poked him as the music swelled, and he laughed, finally caving as he spun you around and started to sing. “‘Cause I’m leavin’, on a jet plane - don’t know when I’ll be back again… Oh, babe” - he held you close, feathering kisses on your cheek and down your jaw - “I hate to go… 

“There’s so many times… I’ve let you down… So many times I’ve played around… I tell you now, they don’t mean a thing…” His voice was quieter now, more serious. He pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear and smiled softly. “Every place I go, I’ll think of you, every song I sing, I’ll sing for you…” 

Your breath caught as you remembered the next lyric, and you almost expected him to kiss you, ducking out of it, but his voice went even softer, even more serious - “... and when I come back, I’ll bring your wedding ring…” 

He kissed you then, smiling against your lips. “I love you,” he whispered. 

You sighed happily as you smiled back, content at last. “Love you too.”

***

the end 💜

I hope you liked it! I’ve been tempted to write this fic every single time I heard that song, and I finally did! if you enjoyed, feedback and a reblog would be much appreciated :) 

masterlist is here. 

thanks for reading!

[ffangirlingsince2001]

The Great Upheaval of Percy Weasley: Black Lingerie

Percy Weasley x OC

Summary: Accidental insults lead to study sessions and answered questions

Warnings: angst, some public making out (still a bit tame, but don’t you worry ;) )

MASTERLIST

black lingerie -n- you said you matched it to the color of your heart but as I undressed your soul I knew you had lied

***

“We’re going to get right into it,” Lupin announced as he passed back the pop quizzes from his first class. Percy glanced down at the paper, almost perfect marks. More surprising, was at the top of his paper, beside his name was Wilton. He looked around in panic.

Had he written that?

Was he already blowing their cover?

“Some of you may have already noticed, but there is a name beside your own. That individual scored the closest to you on the pop quiz, and consequently will be your dueling partner for the rest of the year. Now there will be no need to change seats,” he added as students began groaning about their partners. He wanted to look back and see Elle’s reaction, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

He had always been a little hesitant of the girl. She had ‘bad news’ written across her forehead in the same thick liner he had never seen her without. And there were of course the rumors he tried not to put much stock in. Somehow, now that he knew her, she was more intimidating than before, and smarter, and more of an enigma.

Funny how that works out, isn’t it? He knew that while she looked like Halloween, she tasted like May Day. He knew what her skirt felt like in his hands, and he knew that the space between her thighs were warmer than any sweater. He knew how she kissed, and yet he didn’t really know anything about her.

“Hey, head boy,” she said, startling him out of his thoughts. He turned to find her standing behind him, arms crossed with an amused expression, “Are we going to practice or are you going to keep staring at your test.”

“Practice?”

“Nonverbal spells. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“I guess not,” he muttered, and she rolled her eyes before beckoning him to their corner. “I didn’t know you were second in the class, congratulations,” he offered as he followed her. He didn’t know why he had said anything about the grade, it was without tact, but he certainly hadn’t expected her to laugh coldly. A shiver ran down his spine while he placed himself the correct number of paces away, pulling himself together as he tried to shake out the distraction. By the time he was ready, she was already pointing her white, slender wand in his direction. She looked nonchalant and unprepared, but he could tell from the tightness in her wrist she would begin as soon as he did.

He flicked his wand, aiming to disarm her, but she blocked it with ease. He went again, determined to keep her on the defense. They were entirely silent as she gracefully defended every attack he had to offer.

Then he switched from simple disarming to jinxes.

She didn’t miss a beat. Her defensive charms grew stronger until not only were they protecting her but pushing him backwards. They stepped into another group’s area, but it didn’t really matter, their silent lightshow had already captured the rest of the class’s attention. Percy even caught sight of Lupin watching them from where he had been helping another group. His back hit a desk as she advanced, something dangerous in her eyes. Using his wand, he whisked it towards her in a desperate attempt to slow her, but she hopped onto the desks surface. She stared down at him, looking like pure power. She threw her first jinx, and then another, and another, almost quicker than he was able to throw up shield charms.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, stinging his eyes, but she didn’t look like she was tired at all. She looked like she had just entered the ring and was prepared to destroy whoever tried to face her.

That just so happened to be Percy.

He could feel the spells getting more dangerous, pushing against every counter curse and defense with no remorse. He stumbled over a chair and hit the ground. Quiet, cool, calculation turned to a smile as she hopped down from the desk, wand still raised. His wand had fallen out of his hand and whatever spell she decided to cast was going to be the end of the duel. She raised it and he scrambled for his wand in a last-ditch effort to keep it going, but a shield formed between them before either could make a move.

“That class, was an excellent demonstration of dueling,” Lupin said, clapping as he stepped forward. He spoke quietly to Elle, but from where Percy lay, he couldn’t hear, he could only see the angry look Elle’s face soften before seizing up again. She opened her mouth the argue, but Lupin must have said something to keep her quiet, because she instantly shoved past him and around the shield charm.

Lupin was chuckling as he helped Percy from the ground, offering him a ‘good job’ before dismissing the class. Percy turned to look for Elle, but she was already there, shoving a piece of parchment into his chest.

“I’m number fucking one,” she snapped before marching away, Dinah doing her best to keep her stride. Percy pulled the parchment from his chest and glanced at her test, a perfect score. His stomach dropped at the sudden explanation. He had become the pompous ass she knew him for by simply assuming she was beneath him. She had certainly proven him wrong, and now he was going to be lucky if she bothered to ever look at him again. As he packed away the books that had been strewn across the floor during their duel, promising himself he would apologize the moment he got a chance.

Which he hoped would be Transfigurations.

He slid into his seat at the front of the classroom and watched as Elle and Dinah whispered in the back of the classroom, the poor lad who had taken Elle’s seat dripping with boredom.

“Ms. Wilton, take your seat,” Professor McGonagall called as she entered the classroom. The girls laughed for a few moments, before Elle slid off the desk and practically swanned to her seat.

“Elle,” he whispered but she ignored him, not that he blamed her. She took her notes and ignored every possible thing he did to capture her attention. When class ended, she jumped up as quickly as she could manage. All he could do was run after her.

“Elle, Elle,” he called down the corridor after the pair. Suddenly, Dinah whirled around while Elle continued to look away.

“Are you looking to get your ass kicked again, because I promise I won’t be as nice as my friend,” Dinah snapped, drawing her wand. The hallway around them seemed to freeze, almost every pair of eyes seemed to stare at the badge shining brightly on his chest. Even Dinah seemed to flicker as she remembered who she was speaking to, but it only lasted a moment before she inched closer, sticking the tip of her wand against the gold.

“I’m sorry, Elle,” he announced, doing his best to ignore Dinah’s glare, “It was a stupid arrogant thing to say, and I’m sorry.” Much to his relief, she turned around, lowering Dinah’s arm as she did so.

“I’ll meet you in Herbology.”

“Elle-.”

“Do you not think I can handle a Weasley?” she snapped. Had it been any other time, Percy would have felt indignant, but he was going to take every sort of verbal abuse she had to offer if it meant she was going to forgive him. Dinah glared at him one more time before turning on her five-inch heels and marching away. “And the rest of you, get to class before the Head boy has to take house points.”

No one moved, points and orders meant almost nothing when a fight was about to break out.

“Go,” he yelled into the silent corridor. A few beats passed before begrudging feet shuffled away, leaving them alone in the corridor. “I’m sorry-.”

“I heard.” He shifted nervously, desperately thinking back to everything he knew about her. He had never groveled before, and before that moment he was sure he never would.

“I want you to study for our N.E.W.Ts with me. I only want to study with the best, and that’s clearly you.” He took a small step back as she narrowed her eyes, waiting for the jinx that was sitting on her tongue to lash out.

“Alright, library at six?” He blinked, and then again. He couldn’t believe it; he was still alive, and she had agreed. She waved her hand in front of his face, “Earth to Percy?”

“Yeah, six.”

“Don’t be late,” she ordered before offering him the smallest little grin. It disappeared as quickly as it came, and she whirled away, hurrying off to her next class. He watched the two braids down her back wave him goodbye. Frankly, they were the only thing that stopped him from watching her hips instead.

He shook the image of skirt swishing back and forth, coughing, and checking to make sure that no one had noticed his moment of weakness. When he was satisfied there was no one hiding behind corners, he briskly made his way to the common room. If he was going to keep up with her, he needed to be a little ahead.

The trip, that should have been quick and without interruption, was hijacked by none other than Fred and George. They were rushing around a corner excitedly, but when they saw him their excitement quickly dropped.

“We heard you were getting beat up,” George announced.

“But you seem free of bruises,” Fred finished, both approaching him skeptically, searching for the nonexistent contusions.

“I don’t know who told you that, but I am not getting beat up.”

“So, Dinah Baker didn’t pull her wand on you after Transfiguration?”

“And Elle Wilton didn’t send everyone away so she could absolutely pummel you into the ground?”

“She didn’t send everyone away to pummel me,” Percy snapped and both boys sagged in disappointment.

“That’s too bad. It probably would’ve been the most action you ever got.”

“Yeah, probably the first and last time a girl ever put her hands on you.”

“I’d let Wilton pummel me, she’s a right babe.”

“Very true, Fred, very true.”

“And that rack of hers.”

“I heard Davies ran into her during the rain once, claims he could see right through her shirt.”

“Black lingerie?”

“Black lingerie.”

Percy was fuming. He wanted to interrupt, to punch one of them, but he remained still, doing his best to keep his breathing even. Attacking his brother was not how a head boy should behave, and there was nothing more suspicious than defending a girl he barely talked to in public.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they had piqued his curiosity about the under-workings of Elle Wilton’s wardrobe.

“Last year she patched me up after Quidditch practice, and I swear she was all over me.”

“Are you sure that wasn’t all the painkillers?”

“Hey!”

“Are you two done?” Percy asked as casually as he could manage. They both turned to look at him. It seemed they had forgotten he was even there. “I have things to attend to, and if I catch either of you sneaking into the girl’s dormitory, I will not hesitate to take fifteen points from you both.” The twins rolled their eyes before pushing past him.

He took a deep breath and promised himself not to think about black lingerie.

And it worked too, until six when she arrived in the library, not wearing her uniform. It wasn’t ridiculous, but it certainly wasn’t what he was used to. He should have called her over, raised his hand, anything, but he couldn’t stop staring long enough to control his motor skills.

The flared plaid had been traded for a solid black skirt that was much tighter… and much shorter. The combat boots and fishnets were still present, but they seemed more dangerous than before. The neckline of her top was high, and the sleeves were long, but the red fabric was so tight it didn’t really leave much to the imagination. He shifted beneath the desk as he rose a hand, hoping to catch her attention without drawing too much to himself. Her eyes landed on his and she grinned, pushing towards the table he had chosen.

She sat down, pulling out her books as she went. He tried not to stare, he really did, but could anyone really blame him, when she looked like that, and when he knew that if he asked she was going to let him touch… that.

“You changed,” he blurted, and then prepared himself a Draught of Living Death right there. His big mouth had already gotten him in trouble once today, and here he was blurting out whatever came to mind. She looked up from her bag and smirked.

“It is technically the weekend; you’re not going to take points from me, are you?”

“What? No, I just noticed.”

“Thank you for noticing then.” Somehow, he had survived. “Also, I want to apologize for what happened in Lupin’s class, my temper got ahead of me.”

“It was my fault, I shouldn’t have assumed, and trust me, I won’t underestimate you again. That was excellent magic, I wasn’t kidding when I said I want to learn from the best.”

“Oh,” was all she said, and for a moment he thought she might be blushing, “I hope I live up to your expectations.”

“I’m sure you will.” She was definitely blushing now. “Shall we get into it?” he asked, doing his best to save her and she quickly nodded, burying herself into her charms essay.

They both worked for hours, only speaking to ask questions about something that had been mentioned in class, or an odd concept discussed in the book; and it was enjoyable. Percy had never once considered that one day he would enjoy sitting across a table from Elle Wilton as they studied. He wasn’t even convinced she studied before today, but now she was sitting across from him, a stain on her lip from where she held her quill as she slunk deeper into thought.

Suddenly, she slammed her book shut and stood.

“Want to come to the restricted section?”

“You need a note?”

“I have a permanent note, plus we’re in advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, that’s automatic admittance.” She slid past Madam Pince, offering her a smug smile to which she responded with a glare. It was clear they were not one another’s biggest fans. She pushed through the gate and began perusing the shelves, clearly looking for something.

“What are you looking for?”

“Unforgivable Curses.” That did not exactly answer his question.

“Any book in particular?”

“No, anything that focuses on their creation will be perfect.”

“What for?”

“Lupin’s essay.”

“What’s your topic?”

“Why Defense Charms are useless against Unforgivable Curses. It has something to do with how they were created, but our book isn’t specific in what manner, so I’m hoping that…” she explained, trailing off as something caught her eye. She took a step back and pressed up on her toes. “Yes, that’s got to be it.” The book she was pointing at was silver, the words “Unforgivable Curses” emblazoned into the side with dark black ink.

It was a few shelves higher than she could reach, but that didn’t stop her from trying, or her skirt from rising up her thighs as she stretched for the desired book. Percy reprimanded his wandering eyes and reached for it over her head. He barely brushed the bottom of the spine but managed to pull it down without too much effort. She turned around, taking the book from his hands, staring up at him as she leaned against the shelf, smirking all the while.

He wasn’t quite sure what she was smirking about until he realized what it would look like if someone turned the corner. His arm was stretched above her, gripping the shelf as he leaned over her, a leg situated between hers. He jumped back and she had the audacity to laugh.

“Don’t act as if we’ve never been in that position before,” she teased as he sputtered with indignation.

“We’re in the library.”

“Yeah, not a church.”

“Anyone could see.”

“It’s the Restricted Section, how many people come in here on a busy day, let alone a Friday?” She was smirking at him again, always smirking when she knew she was about to win. Though, in this case he wasn’t inclined to stop her. She crooked a finger forward and he obeyed, hovering over her once more, leaning down to capture her lips in his. She responded wholeheartedly, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hand slipped to her skirt and he might have let it wander beneath it if Fred and George’s voices didn’t fill his head with the conversation from earlier.

‘Black Lingerie,’ they seemed to repeat, until suddenly he was sure their voices weren’t just in his head. He pulled away, and sure enough just outside the Restricted Section were his two very loud brothers.

“Those idiots again. I already had to fight them off once today. They were convinced I beat you up earlier,” she groaned as she pushed Percy away, fixing her skirt as she marched towards the entrance. He followed her, but she pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Just wait here, they’ll be gone before you know it.” He hid in the shadows as she pushed her way back into the main portion of the library.

“Where’s Percy?” one of them, who he could only presume was Fred, yelled over Madam Pince’s insistent hushing. “You’ve killed him, haven’t you?”

“He’s looking for a book, which often happens in a library. Not that either of you would know anything about that.” A beat of silence passed before his brothers burst into laughter.

“And you do? C’mon Wilton we know you’re only here to beat him up in private.” Percy could practically hear Elle’s eyeroll.

“If I go get him, and prove that he’s not dead will you leave?”

“Only if you kiss me too.” Percy was ready to charge out after her now, but from the way the library grew decibels quieter, he had a good feeling that she was going to take care of it. Another beat of silence passed before her voice filled the air. It was low and dangerous, and even Percy was a little worried for his younger brother.

“If you ever insinuate anything like that ever again, I will make sure the next morning you wake up in Timbuktu thinking you’re a French salesman who recently donated his prick to a local charity, do you understand me?” A beat of silence passed. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” his brother whispered and then the atmosphere returned to normal.

“Excellent, now do you still want to see Percy or are you feeling ready to retire for the night?” Scampering footsteps followed her question and before he knew it, she returned to where he had been listening. He blinked at her and she smiled, dragging him further into the dark aisles of the restricted section.

“Where have you been all my life?” he stuttered, and she laughed before pushing him against a shelf and pulling him down to meet her lips.

“Wait, wait,” he gasped pushing her away.

“If you’re really the uncomfortable about the library we can go.”

“No, no that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” Percy swallowed nervously, but he was sure if he didn’t ask, he was going to keep hearing their voices.

“Do you wear black lingerie?” Thankfully, she didn’t seem at all put out by the question, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to end up as a French salesman.

“Not today, but sometimes, why do you ask?” she laughed.

“No reason,” he replied, swooping down, and kissing her before she had time to ask any more questions. She responded with zealous, and he smirked against her lips. He was sure he had just found another surprise about the enigma he was holding in his arms, a surprise he was excited to witness all on his own.

Taglist: @andromedasstarship​ @danadeacon​

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Five Times Colson Baker Almost Kissed You and the One Time He Did

Requested? For someone else maybe (i’m sorry LMAO)

Warnings? None? 

Summary: You and Colson have been best friends for years now and had feelings for each other for what seems like the same amount of time. However, you always seem to be missing out on one another. 

Word Count: 2,902 (it’s so long but I promise it’s worth it)

One

“One hour,” Colson says, trying to convince you. 

“No.” 

“Please? We can get food after,” he begs and you consider it for a moment. 

“Alright.” 

Colson cheers loudly at this, picking you up and spinning you around before throwing you back onto his king-sized bed. He heads to his closet, sorting through his clothes to find something to wear and you roll your eyes at your best friend. 

Colson had been begging you practically all week to go to a party that Pete Davidson was surprisingly throwing. You had always wanted to meet his best friend but had never gotten the time to do so. That was the main reason you said yes to going to the party and the other was Colson was Colson and you couldn’t say no to those big blue eyes.

“One hour,” you tell him when you arrive at the house. 

“One hour,” he repeats pressing a kiss to your cheek before heading into the party. 

You head in slowly, making your way to the drink table first and pouring yourself something before figuring out what to do next. Just as you’re about to walk around in hopes of finding someone you know, you hear someone call your name. 

“(y/n)?” you turn to see Pete standing a few feet away with a smile plastered on his face. 

“Hey! I’m Pete,” he says offering his hand to shake. “I didn’t mean to sound weird knowing who you are, Colson talks about you a lot.” 

“Good to know,” you joke, and Pete smiles. 

The two of you end up talking for a while, getting to know each other, and trading secrets about Colson. You don’t realize how fast time is going until a drunk Colson finds you. 

“Darling!” he calls, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and leaning his head against yours. “You met Pete?” 

“Yes, love. And you’re wasted?” you ask. 

You turn your head to the side to look at your best friend when it occurs to you how close Colson is. An inch rests between two of you, and your eyes flicker between his and his lips. Your eyes land on each other and for a moment something passes between the two of you. 

"Y'all gonna kiss or what?" Pete says from in front of the two of you. 

You and Col both laugh, and your head rests on his chest. The two of you cast another glance at each other before you maneuver so your arm is around Colson's waist and his slips around your shoulders. 

"Let's go, big guy." 

Two

"Fuck!" Colson curses loudly while messing with the pearl-like necklace. 

You stand from your spot on the couch and head over to your frustrated best friend. As you walk up to him, his hands drop and you stand in front of him. You offer a small smile and reach up to click together the confusing necklace. 

“I’m nervous,” he admits as you work on the jewelry. “Why the fuck am I nervous?” 

“Because it’s a VMA and you’ve been working your ass off and you deserve one.” 

“But I don’t care if we win or lose,” he insists and you nod. 

“I know. But you still care a little bit.” 

After fastening the necklace, you fix it so the bullhorn is at the center of his neck. Once finished, your hands fall to his chest and you look up at him. 

“You’re gonna win.” 

Because of restrictions, you sit to the side of the room as Colson heads in front of the cameras to talk to the interviewer. You sit back and admire your best friend’s success, proud to have been able to watch how far he’s come and how amazing he’s done in his career, vma or not. 

“What I wanna let you know, you won the vma. I have somebody bringing it in for you right now.”  

Just as Colson begins to freak out on camera, you immediately start to jump up and down for your best friend. You want to run up and hug him and tell him you knew it but you refrain wanting to hear what he says in his acceptance speech. 

He runs through the og’s, Casie, his family, Travis, and Mod, and just as he’s about to stop, his eyes land on you. 

“My beautiful best friend. Just before this, she was reassuring me that I was gonna win and I trust her with everything. Thank you for always believing in me.” 

A happy tear falls as Colson continues to cheer and you watch until the interview is over and the crew cuts the camera. As soon as they’re finished, Colson beelines straight for you. 

His arms wrap around your waist and yours slip around his shoulders and you can feel the excitement and love radiate between the two of you. He picks you up and spins you around unable to contain the happiness and you’re both practically screaming in the tiny backstage area. 

“I won!!” he yells. 

“You won!!” you echo and you’re both laughing out of pure bliss. 

He sets you down and you take a step back, your hands moving from his shoulders to his face and you cup his cheeks and see a beaming smile greet you. 

“I’m so proud of you Col,” you say and he laughs lightly still not believing this all. 

You stay there like that for a moment, gazing into each other eyes and your heart beats fast as his striking blue eyes study yours. Your thumb absentmindedly strokes the side of his cheek and he leans into your touch. You’re certain he’s leaning in and you’re getting closer when someone interrupts you. 

“Colson? Is it okay if we get some pictures?” 

Three

“Okay, we’re gonna sit here and get all of our work done even if it kills us,” you say turning to your best friend and laughing. 

“Or, we could go to this party in the hills?” Kells asks, offering you puppy dog eyes. 

“Absolutely not. You have to finish that song and I need to write this paper. We can get it done together.” 

The older boy gazes at you from across the room and you meet it with ease. After a moment or so, he breaks and you giggle lightly knowing you won. 

You and Colson both had been putting off your respective work for days now. You were both born procrastinators, having bad habits for waiting till the last minute to get things done. When you met each other, it got a little bit easier to finish things though when you had to do it together. 

However, sometimes you got things done much later in the night than the two of you would have liked. Currently, it was almost 2:30 and neither one of you had made much progress. 

“Okay, I’m done,” Kells says coming over to your spot on the couch and laying down. 

His head falls into your lap and you instinctively let your hands fall to his hair. Your hands card through the soft blonde locks that fall into a messy mohawk formation on his head. You watch as Kells eyes fall shut as your nails scratch the sides of his buzzed hair before running through the locks once more, 

“Hey,” Colson says and you look down at him. You smile lightly at the older boy and he sits up at the action. He props up on his elbow, one hand reaching up to twirl his fingers through your hair and you hum at the action. Your eyes trace over his features, committing each perfect detail to memory. 

You suddenly realize you’re both moving closer and closer to each other until you’re centimeters away from each other. Your heart is nonexistent and your eyes shut in anticipation at the closeness. 

Suddenly the loud sound of your alarm goes off and the two of you split. Colson falls back into your lap, his head hanging lowly and sighing quietly. You scramble to turn the alarm off, completely forgetting that you turned it on in case you took a nap during your work. 

“So close,” you hear Colson whisper before he stands and goes back to his work and you find yourself smiling. 

Four

“I suck,” you tell him. 

“You don’t suck,” Colson reassures you. 

“Please? It’s one song, the last song! Please?” he begs taking your hands in his and tugging at them lightly. 

“Fine.” 

“Let’s go!” Col cheers letting go of your hands to pump his fists together. 

Colson had come to you when he was almost finished with the album and had only a few songs left to mix and go over to make sure they were perfect. After going over the album and the deluxe over and over, Colson finally realized what he was missing. 

“It’s just this part at the end, me and Dom already did it but I think adding a high harmony will be perfect,” Colson explains, leading you into the small recording booth. 

He wanted to add you onto body bag, one of your favorite tracks off of Col’s new album that he recorded with none other than YungBlud. The two finished the song, but Colson insists the ending woahs need a harmony. So, he came to you which you still didn’t understand in the slightest. 

“Are you sure you want me to sing? I’m gonna ruin the whole song.” 

“Definite. I’ll sing with you if that makes you feel better,” he reassures and you nod. 

The two of you get set up, Col explaining the process along the way and you try to follow along to the best of your abilities. After putting on your headphones and you both step up to the mic, your nerves start to kick in. 

“I promise it’s not bad. And we can always redo it.” 

You nod at your best friend and he smiles before giving Travis the thumbs up to start the audio. The backing of the song begins and out of habit, you begin to dance to the song. 

Just before the part you’re supposed to sing hits, Colson taps you and you look over at him and he nods as you’re supposed to come in. The two of you sing together, you hitting a higher harmony and Colson smiles wide at you the entire time. 

“It’s perfect guys,” Travis says when you’re finished. 

“We finished!” Colson yells. 

“You did it!” You yell back. 

It hits you both at the same time, the fact that Colson had finished something so close to him and your best friend had achieved something so great. 

You jump into Colson’s arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. He catches you as if he’s done this a million times, his arm circling your waist and he pushes his face into your neck. 

You pull away, about to tell Col how proud you are of him when you’re struck by the proximity of the two of you. You both smile widely at each other, radiating complete and utter joy. You move closer, wanting to finally close the gap, wanting to enhance this moment when you’re interrupted. 

“Uh, guys?” 

Five

“Colson,” you whine from across the room. 

“Yes?” he asks looking up at you. 

You give him a look, the look you’ve perfected between the two of you that is always understood whether you say something before, after, or nothing at all. It always means I want food. 

“We just ate!” he exclaims and you burst out laughing. 

“We ate preppy award show food! I want Mcdonald’s,” you say in between laughter. 

“I mean,” he says, shooting you the same look and now you’re both cackling together. 

You grab your phone and Col grabs his keys and the two of you head out together. Some days, going to McDonald’s and just hanging out was the best for you and Colson. You got to relax, spend some genuine time with each other and do whatever you wanted. 

As you drive, you and Colson sing along to your throwback playlist and talk about the award show you just attended together. You two were getting tired of award season, and the speeches and the tiny food. However, you always promised that if you had each other you’d bear every award show. 

“Usual?” Col asks when you pull up the speaker. 

“Yes please,” you answer. 

Colson orders your food and as you pull up to the first window you try to hand him your credit card. 

“Venmo me,” he says. 

“I..” you begin and he tilts his head to the side in confusion. 

“Have no money in my bank account currently.” 

The two of you burst out laughing, the worker giving you confused looks as Colson hands him his card anyway and you try to protest but nothing comes out between the giggles. 

After Colson pays and you pick up the food, you tell him to pull over somewhere so you can eat. He ends up finding a secluded parking lot for the two of you to chill. 

As you eat, you two talk about random things, from stories from the week to past dumb things you two have done. You end up laughing and enjoying your time well past when you finish your food. 

“Remember when you fell at that award show?” kells asks and you begin to laugh.

“It was one time!” 

“You face planted!” he reminds you and you’re both laughing all over again. 

“You didn’t even try and catch me,” you whine. 

“I’ll always catch you I promise,” he says and you look over at your best friend. 

Kells wears a serious expression replacing the bright but rare smile on his lips just seconds previous. Your eyes search his, uncertain of the meaning behind the words. His hand takes yours, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin and his eyes stare into the distance as he does the action. 

“Col,” you whisper, trying to get the older boys attention. 

His eyes snap to yours and his hand moves from yours to your cheek. His thumb traces your features, trailing from your jaw to your lips and you’re breathless at his touch. Just as you inch closer and closer, your lips ghost over each other’s, and your breath hitches. 

You think you’re about to meet, a long-awaited connection when a horn blares out of nowhere, scaring the two of you apart. You both settle back into your seats, a soft chuckle emitting from your best friend as he shakes his head. You bite your lip, a hand coming up to feel the skin where his fingers gracefully touched and you can’t believe your moment was ruined once more. 

And One 

“Hey I’m coming over in 5,” you say greeting Colson from the view of your car. 

“Uh why?” he asks peering into the phone to figure out why you’re headed over to his place so late at night. 

“Cause there’s a meteor shower and I wanna watch it from a good view,” you explain and Colson laughs at you. 

After a quick drive, you’re walking inside of Colson’s house with blankets, pillows, and tons of snacks. When Col sees you, he hops up from the couch and helps you with the stuff. 

“You seriously drove all the way over here for a meteor shower?” 

“It’s a better view over here!” you defend and Colson laughs. 

Together you bring the stuff upstairs and manage to bring it out onto the rooftop. You set up, laying blankets over the rooftop, setting up pillows, and laying out snacks. 

“When is the shower supposed to start?” Col asks as he climbs back onto the roof next to you. 

“I think like 10 minutes?” 

Colson nods in response, settling in next to you. He lays down, his hand slipping underneath his head to prop himself up slightly. You lay down next to him, relaxed in each other’s presence as you wait for the meteor shower to begin. 

As you sit and stare at the stars, your mind wanders to the boy next to you. As cheesy as it was, you’d always be grateful to have Colson Baker in your life. No matter what happened, knowing him and gaining life experience together will be something you always cherished. 

You feel Colson moving next to you, and his hand slowly trails down until it meets yours, interlocking your fingers with ease. Your heart pounds slowly in your chest and you’re surprised Colson can’t hear it. 

“Hey,” he says and you turn to look at him. 

His hand comes to meet your cheek and you search his eyes. You sink into the feeling of his hands on you and nothing feels better in the world. As he moves closer, your breath hitches and you’re mesmerized by his stunning blue eyes. 

Then his lips are on yours, and the long awaited connection has sparks lighting from end to end. He moves slightly so he’s facing you, one hand holding your waist as the other caresses your cheek and you’re relaxed into his touch. 

As he pulls away, he places another chaste kiss to your lips and you’re left smiling wide. As you stare into Col’s eyes, you can’t help but giggle as the ultimate feeling of happiness overwhelms you. 

“Fucking finally,” he says and the two of you are really laughing now. 

[luvlyrv]

Duel | Seulgi x F!Reader | Knight!AU

Request: Okay so I have a request 👀 you don’t have to write it if you want want to, but the idea came to my head and I thought why not request it from one of my favourite writers! 🥺

SO, knight!seulgi. Or basically Seulgi with a sword and being bad ass 🥴 maybe a small bit of enemies to lovers, who knows? But just Seulgi. With a sword. 😳🥵

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: i hope you like it! i'm not big on action scenes so they were kind of rushed, sorry :( also sorry that it took so long my dear!! hope you're doing well <3

Date: 4/11/21

You uncomfortably roll your shoulders back, a phantom pain gradually enveloping your body. Somehow the mere sight of Seulgi was enough to send shudders down your spine as your body recounts the sensations of the many fights you've had with her. Maybe defeat has already etched itself into your muscle memory.

You let out a quiet breath as you observe her sparring session with a fellow damoiseau, a knight-in-training. Your mind feels a bit torn by the sight in front of you. On one hand you are entranced by the fluid motions and contortions that Seulgi managed to make her body do. On the other hand you struggle to not make an obviously unsettled face. Your mood sours at the disappointment you feel when reminded of the fact that despite how much you try to observe and study her, you have never bested her in a duel.

Besting the people around you had always come easy. You've enjoyed the pain of your training, knowing that it would be proven a worthy investment of your time when you see a pitiful body laying on the floor in front of you. When you get to see the face of defeat, hear the admittance of it. For all you know you are the perfect warrior. A noble knight worthy to serve the monarch.

You're better than everyone. You know it. Except for her.

What was it? What did you she have that you didn't? Every time she bested you in a duel it dealt a bastardly blow to your ego. The words 'second best' would make your eye want to twitch. For all your strength and endurance, your familiarity with the motions of battle, Seulgi just seemed to understand it more.

You recount the many times your body would strain itself after being dealt with many sharp thwacks. The throbbing pains from falling and rolling, again and again. The sense of hope and excitement as you pushed yourself to take on a stance and seemingly deal a final blow, only for Seulgi to easily and gracefully step away, just to kick you back to the ground.

You hate her. You hate the weaklings underneath you too. You swear you can hear them snicker when you lose to her, that treacherous woman.

You stop your thoughts when you suddenly hear the booming voice of your master calling for you. Your grip strengthens around your training sword as you slowly make way towards Seulgi. It's time for the two of you to repeat the process. This time though, you are determined to win. Certain of it. Seulgi, the best apprentice in your regiment, would not longer make a mockery of you.

Your jaw hurts as clench, barely containing your anger. You try to calm down and refocus on the situation at hand. You look at Seulgi as she stands in her own battle-ready stance in front of you. You wonder how her blows deal so much power when her frame looks so delicate.

Focusing on calming down your breathing, you slowly advance forward. Your opponent does the same and soon enough you're circling around each other. It's the same story again. The same beginnings.

You want to end things quickly and dive in for the first blow. One blow should be all you need, you think to yourself. You force yourself to go as quickly as possible, everything around you a blur except for your target herself. All of a sudden though, she disappears and suddenly you feel your training sword facing resistance, threatening to escape your grasp.

You grunt in frustration and reorient yourself to find Seulgi. You spot her and balance yourself waiting for another opening. She is always on the defensive it seems, but you are never one to wait. As the seconds go by you deem it the right time to go for a slash. It feels as if your body is moving through molasses as you watch Seulgi glide out of your weapon's way in horror. You see her sword and a painful thwack is given.

It's the same story again. The same middle.

You repeat and repeat these motions. You going in for a hit only to be countered. Sometimes you'd get one in, but like you your opponent is hardy and gets back up. After a brutal pummeling you must resign yourself to defeat, as much as your heart hates it. The same ending as always.

This time though you can't seem to hold your tongue back.

You storm up closer to Seulgi and roughly hold onto the collar of her training attire. "What the hell is it? What's your secret?" You shake the woman a bit until her hands come up to your wrist. She pushes them down and you decide to let go. "Rematch tonight. I'll prove my worth." The words come out viciously but quietly. They were a promise both to her and yourself.

The crowd of spectators around you stay quiet after your outburst, and Seulgi doesn't say anything either. Not bothering to look at anyone's faces you leave the grounds to change clothes. They stuck to you with sweat and the gritty dirt that covered it bothered you

You can't think much for the rest of the day. The thoughts of your failure prevents you from enjoying training or beating other people. Soon enough you find yourself looking at a bowl of measly soup and bread in the mess hall all by yourself.

The warm soup makes you feel marginally better, but you don't pay much attention to it. Instead you take in your surroundings. This scenario is routine. You sit by yourself somewhere among the crowds of people interacting and enjoying their meal together. Even if people were nearby you simply would not speak. Why waste your breath on them?

In contrast to you though, you notice how hordes of people flock around the number one apprentice. Vying for her attention. Are you jealous? You can't tell. You just wonder if people would act that way towards you if you were the best.

Soon enough you hear the familiar yelling of a commander telling you all to return to your bunks. You quickly put away your bowl and utensils before hanging back from the line of people walking back towards the measly barracks that housed you all. Through the large body of people you see the crowd finally thin out as people their respective barracks. As you get closer to yours you finally spot Seulgi towards the entrance of the building. Coming up behind her you speak out.

"You didn't forget, did you?" She takes a moment to think before huffing.

"I suppose I should humor you after all."

You turn without letting her speak further. There's a silence between the two of you as you go to retrieve your training swords. You'd expect to hear loud padded footsteps behind you, but surprisingly Seulgi's footsteps sound faint. Nearly nonexistent.

The night sky of course makes it hard to see things, but your years of training has ingrained the layout of the entire area into your heart. It also helps that the moonlight allows you to see just enough as well. You make it to your destination with ease, picking up your weapon you watch as Seulgi grabs hers too.

"Where are we going to fight?" She questions you tiredly.

"Out in the field." Your answer is curt as you once again lead Seulgi, this time to the middle of the field you had fought in earlier in the day. When you arrive you distance yourself farther away from her and take your stance.

"You ready?" You ask her as you plant your feet into the ground and focus on your breathing.

"Mhm." Seulgi, unlike you, decides to stand there. She seems uncommitted, like she doesn't care about the fight. How dare she do that when your pride is on the line? When you're taking this so seriously?

Frustration builds up inside of you as you take her attitude as disrespect. You move in to give her a quick jab. Extending your arm, you feel your weapon graze her before she moves out of the way. A popping noise fills the air as she strikes down near the hilt of your weapon, trying to make you loosen your grip. It almost works but you quickly readjust your hands. You force up your sword in retaliation, breaking away the contact between your two swords.

With your sword so high up you decide to go for a horizontal swing towards Seulgi's body. In the early moments of your swing though, Seulgi ducks down and gives you an upwards jab towards your chest.

You heave as air forcefully leaves your lungs, a pain exploding around your chest.

"God!" You wheeze out loudly. Seulgi stands in front of you while she lowers her sword. You get down to your knees and look at the ground. Your breathing normalizes quickly but you try to get your bearings before rising again.

"I still... don't get it." As quickly as your breathing returned to its normal state, your voice quivered as your eyes felt hot. The disappointment that you seemingly always felt around Seulgi had made its reappearance. This time it hit harder than normal. Hard enough to make you start crying.

As your breathing began to become more uneven you finally raise your head and stand up. The form of your opponent gets closer to you. The only sounds between the two of you is the noises escaping your throat as you broke down again.

"How can you manage to fight like that?" You notice Seulgi has put both of her hands out to you. Your hesitance to take them spurs her to speak.

"I'll show you." Her voice touches you somehow. How have you never noticed how angelic she sounded? How gentle she was being with you right now? "Just take them."

You allow her to take your hands. She carefully clasps her similarly calloused hands around yours and begins to move. Her body sways, you don't quite understand why but you try to follow suit.

"I don't get it." You say as you try to mirror her movements. You fumble in embarrassment as Seulgi moves with confidence and grace. You're like a fawn who hasn't learned how to walk next to her.

"I'm a dancer, don't you see?" She momentarily lets go of your hands and walks backwards. You miss the feeling of her hands but you're entranced by the short show she puts on.

She performs for you, the dance itself was beautiful as she created curves and angles with her body. The moonlight enhances it, bouncing off her body and allowing her to glow.

Why have you never noticed how delicate her features looked? How it looked as if she was hand sculpted by the gods?

She returns back to you, taking your hands in hers and leads you back to dancing. You focus harder on trying to mimic her correctly. Eventually the both of you are gracefully dancing across the vast field. You're calmer now, happy even.

"See?" Seulgi says after a while of silent dancing. "The battlefield is my dancefloor, and I'm simply dancing around your blade."

"You're an incredible dancer, Seulgi." Seulgi has brought the two of you closer now. You notice how her lips tug up a bit as you pay her a compliment. That was the first time you've complimented her, perhaps even anyone here. It was the first time you said something without malice to her.

"I try." She laughs a bit. "I wanted to be a professional dancer at first actually. My family wanted me to go into a more noble field though, for the sake of our reputation. I protested at first of course. As I thought more though I decided I wouldn't mind protecting people. I still try to dance everyday though."

"Oh." Shock is laced through your voice. Listening to Seulgi was a humbling experience to say the least. You had wanted to become a knight for your own honor, to attain glory and recognition. You hadn't paid much thought towards protecting other people.

It was also strange to see Seulgi treat you like this. Her kindness was unprecedented. Was your hatred and spite one-sided all along?

"Hm?" Seulgi is curious to your shock as she quirks her eyebrow.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"I've..." It hurts you a bit to say sorry, let alone apologize correctly. You force yourself to do it though. Maybe, just maybe, you need to change. "I've certainly acted coldly towards you and others. My actions have been... conceited." You here a soft giggle before Seulgi speaks again.

"You're cuter when you're not being awful, you know?" You're glad that the sun has set and that Seulgi can't see the embarrassment on your face. Seulgi hums a tune as you continue dancing together.

"Try smiling more and scowling less. You'd be more approachable that way, along with some attitude changes of course. Aren't you lonely?" She tries to advise you, and normally you'd lash out if anyone made comments about your behavior, but you can't help but to listen to the soothing voice of Seulgi.

"...I can try." You whisper. "I think, if I may speak frankly, I would be okay with being second best under you." Seulgi laughs again.

"Oh? Was dancing with you all it took to make you earn some humility?"

"Maybe... can we dance again another time?" You ask with hesitance before you quickly elaborate. "To get better at fighting, like you! Of course. Only if you want to."

"If this would effectively make you learn your lesson, then sure."

This was the first time you could talk to someone like this, and you like it.

"Thank you, Seulgi, for your patience."

You understand why she's the best apprentice out of all of you. Why people flock around her. Who wouldn't want to be near the giving soul of Seulgi?

[crybabykiko]

Brainrot Kinktober - 10/1

nice guys finish last

Hate sex: Shigeru Yahaba x Fem!Reader

Warnings: oral sex (f. receiving), sex (protected), kinda unhealthy relationship? Lmfaoooo idk how to tag a hate fuck but that’s what it is... frat boys. frat au- frat boys always come with a warning.

Word Count: 1.7k

Brainrot Kinktober Mlist

Of all the people in your contemporary issues seminar, it was just your luck that you had to be paired with Shigeru Yahaba for your midterm project. He was the arrogant, know-it-all, frat boy type that you loathed. It wasn’t that you knew you’d get a bad grade, actually quite the opposite; you both had some of the highest marks in the class- no, it was the fact that you had to spend time with someone who had such an inflated ego, and made it a point to let everyone know that his dad was on the university board of trustees or that his fraternity won the greek wars the past 2 years in a row- Every. Time. He. Opened. His. mouth. But begrudgingly, you had to do this to pass.

After texting back and forth sporadically for a few days, you had agreed to meet and work on the paper in your dorm, as you told Yahaba there was no way in hell you were stepping foot into his frat’s house. You felt a lot better doing the assignment on your terms this way. He, however, decided to show up almost an hour late to the pre-arranged meeting time, only further fuelling your disdain.

“Sorry,” he said flatly, tossing his backpack down to the floor. “Our pledges had a mission that ran over time and as Pledge Master I-“

“I don’t care,” you cut him off. “Let’s just get this project over with, yeah?”

You both set up your laptops and sat in an uncomfortable silence. Every once in a while, one of you would mention the topic at hand for the project, discussing a detail or commenting on the formatting of the paper you had to co-author. But mostly, the air was riddled with a heaviness, a lingering tension that was as close to breaking as possible. It was about an hour and a half before he opened his mouth to actually make conversation- and of course, he chose to press the issue.

“You know… I never really knew what your whole deal was with me,” he chuckled. “You seem to be the only person on this campus that has it out for me…”

“I don’t have it out for you,” you replied. “I just simply don’t like you.” You went back to work, typing feverishly in an attempt to draw your silence back in.

“But… why?” His tone changed, almost to one of desperation. One that let you know that he wanted you to validate him. But you could never give him that satisfaction.

“Because trustfund boys like you are a waste of time, space, and energy!” You yelled. Yahaba’s eyes widened.

“Well at least I don’t think I’m better than everybody for being a loner without friends!” He yelled back.

“At least I don’t have to fucking pay for friends,” you spat. “I worked for everything I have, I worked hard to get here! You think you should just be able to get by because daddy’s money keeps the school afloat!”

Your faces were lingering mere inches from each other, anger boiling over into a sickening feeling of contempt- but also an overwhelming arousal? The feeling of those sinfully familiar butterflies welled up in your abdomen as you stared into his eyes.

It was in a fluid motion that his lips found yours, teeth feverishly tugging at your bottom lip to allow entrance to your mouth. Your head was spinning as you tried to comprehend your current position- but your senses were overriding thought. You melted into the kiss, allowing your jaw to fall open just enough for Yahaba to swipe his tongue against yours. You paused for a second, stopping to look him in the eyes again, seeing his now hooded with an entirely different story than the hateful narrative you had been writing for them the entire semester.

“If we’re going to do this,” you started, taking the time to take a deep inhale before you finished your sentence:

“If we’re going to do this, you better not fucking tell anyone- or you’re dead.”

“Scouts honor,” Yahaba replied, licking his lips and giving you a shit-eating grin. Even though you were thoroughly convinced he had never been a scout, you couldn’t be bothered to care. He kissed you once more, pushing you into the couch before starting to sloppily trail kisses down your jawline, neck, and collarbones. He placed both hands at your waist, pinning you to the surface below as he used his teeth to pull up your shirt, feathering more kisses down your torso. You watched him wistfully, mindlessly following his lead.

You began to kick off your leggings, wriggling them down your thighs while Yahaba had removed his shirt. He found his way back to your mouth, placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses to it as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your slowly dampening underwear, tossing them to the floor. He ran a finger up your now glistening slit- the sudden sensation of which earned a gasp of surprise from you. Examining his finger, he slowly licked your arousal from it.

“Delicious,” he smirked, positioning his head and body in between your legs, his own feet dangling from the couch. He looked up at you one last time.

“I hope you’re ready for this....” he teased. He wasted no time, flattening his tongue against your core. You inhaled sharply, one hand finding his hair and the other palming one of your now exposed breasts. You rolled your nipple between your fingers as he went to work, lapping at your folds with an almost sinfully slow pace.

“Fuck I need- MORE!” You could barely get the last word out when you were jolted by the feeling of suction his mouth had made on your clit. Slowly, Yahaba had slid a finger at your slit, slowly pushing it within your plush walls, several soft moans escaping your lips. He curled his finger inside of you once or twice before lazily slipping another in, making sure to keep the pressure also building around your clit, rapidly darting his tongue against it.

He released you from his mouth with a pop, fingers still pumping away. He was motivated by the moans you were so desperately holding back- he wasn’t supposed to be making you feel this good. You hated him, you hated what he stood for- why give him the satisfaction of having you come undone at his touch?

“Come on, y/n,” he coaxed. “I know you’re a raging fucking bitch- but can you sound real pretty for me? Let me hear how pretty you sound, tell me how good my fingers feel inside your pretty little hole...”

“Hmmmph~ fuck,” you whined. He quickened his pace. “It feels so- mmmm- so good.”

“Good girl.” His mouth found its way to your clit once again as he removed his fingers from your cunt, bringing them to your lips. You quickly opened your mouth for them, tasting your essence and humming as you wrapped your lips around them. Your eyes fluttered closed as you could feel the knot in your abdomen slowly starting to rip.

“I’m going to c-“ you choked out a half sentence, stopping as you felt your climax ripped away from you as Yahaba removed his mouth from the bundle of nerves, leaving your spasming pussy desperate for attention.

“No you’re not,” he growled. He tore his joggers from his body, boxers following immediately after. Spitting into his hand, he stroked his already hardened cock; looking at you lustfully. He used his free hand to reach into the pocket of his joggers, pulling out his wallet, followed by a condom.

“I’m always prepared,” he winked. As much as you wanted to smack the smug look off of his face, you knew that he would be able to scratch the growing itch you had. You just wish he wasn’t able to talk through it.

“Shut up,” you retorted. “Just fuck me before I change my mind.” You swivelled your hips in anticipation, watching him prepare himself. He lined himself up with your core, sliding himself against your opening.

“Shiiiit,” he hissed, slowly sinking into you. Your head flew back as the feeling of fullness overtook your lower half. Yahaba started moving at an even pace, snapping his hips against you with each thrust. You threw your arm around his side, coaxing him to move a little faster.

“For someone who can’t stand me, you sure are needy,” Yahaba laughed, continuing to pull himself in and out of you at a teasingly slow rate.

“I said shut up and fuck me- that’s all you need to be doing,” you commanded.

He bent down even closer to you, bucking himself into you deeply, attaching his tongue to the sweet spot just below your ear and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. He started pounding away at your pussy, satiated by the stream of curses and needy moans spilling from your lips. Your nails absentmindedly dug into his back, clawing at him to make sure you could feel every inch of him dragging through your soaking wet walls. The familiar knot in the bottom of your stomach was building itself up yet again, only made larger by Yahaba pressing his hand against your abdomen to deliver more quick and hard thrusts, hitting at just the perfect angle to cause you to snap.

“Fuckfuckfuck I’m- oh my god- I’m cumming!” You choked out as your vision went blurred. Yahaba didn’t let up, continuing to thrust as you rode out the high, your walls spasming around him. Once you went limp, he pulled out, hair still perfectly coiffed and sticking to his forehead from the sweat. He began to dress himself again as you lay sprawled on the couch, your body beginning to prickle with sensation again.

“Wait,” you paused. “You didn-”

“Nah,” he threw his shirt back on. He hadn’t finished himself. You were a little hurt- did he think you were trash?

“I wanted to prove to you that even if you hate me, I’m a pretty good guy… a good guy would never let you go unfinished.”

The hurt you had felt turned into the contempt you knew instinctively.

“Fuck you,” you huffed, pulling your t-shirt back over your own head.

“You just did,” he smirked.

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[strawberrysoup]

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 3

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 3.4k chapters: 3/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. 

Tony had presented as a delta at twelve, much to his father’s insurmountable disdain. Howard Stark had gone to great lengths to ensure himself an alpha prime for a son—he’d spent years hunting down the perfect omega, who proceeded to have almost unheard of difficulties getting pregnant. After a grueling pregnancy, said omega had the gall to have massive complications during birth that meant she’d never carry another pup. The fact that Tony couldn’t even do the simplest thing right—present as an alpha prime, like himself, like Captain America—was just heinous.  

But for all of his intelligence, Howard Stark had been a moron. Being a delta came with a slew of advantages over alphas, over alpha primes even. His heightened empathy was an extraordinary tool, his intuition was nearly on par with an omegas. Sure, he wasn’t as dominant as an alpha but he could hold his own in most situations. Alpha orders rarely worked on him, at the very least. He could induce an omega’s heat and even if he couldn’t completely sate an omega during that time as he lacked a knot, deltas were critical in giving alphas periods of rest during the week-long estrous.  

If an omega was the glue that held a pack together, deltas built the foundations. Their ability to support packmates on multiple levels was crucial—just like an omega, they were able to understand their packmates deeply and act as conduits and facilitators.  

He’d never been called a manipulator before. Especially not by a sweet-faced omega with surprisingly sharp little fangs. He supposed that most deltas were considered more… cunning than other presentations. Tony preferred the terms suave or charismatic, if he was being honest. Deltas were charming, dammit. But she’d reacted like he was some sort of con artist, a blink away from hiding the Queen up his sleeve.

Letting the suit catch her while he stood aside might’ve caused a bit of unnecessary distress—it was a good thing said suit was equipped with a silencer, or the shrieking would’ve brought down every alpha in the surrounding three towns. Steve had been giving him those disappointed eyebrows since he’d emerged from the woods, even after Thor and Peter took her inside to be bathed. Tony figured that was punishment enough, especially considering their omega seemed to hate him.  

“We should probably go through the car,” Steve sighed, running a hand over the back of his head—Tony knew the alpha prime didn’t want his own discontent to unsettle the rest of the pack, “thoroughly. Make sure you check for anything hidden, we’ll make stacks for what we can and can’t give back.”  

The blond shifted closer to Tony’s side, his other hand brushing against his back gently. Alpha primes weren’t as in tune with their pack’s emotions, that’s what omegas and deltas were for, but Steve and Thor put in more effort than any other’s Tony had ever encountered. They’d waited for him to arrive after all, instead of converging on the scared omega in a group of two alpha primes and two alphas—even Bruce’s serene beta wouldn’t have been enough to calm her. Steve realized that Tony was put off, had made the effort to notice the shift in the delta’s demeanor, and moved to offer comfort if he should want it.  

“I doubt she has much,” Bruce had his arms crossed over his chest, one hand rubbing at his chin as he stared towards the house, “I can’t decide if her body chemistry is just a 180° of what it should be because of the suppressants or if there’s something else.”  

“You called her something earlier, when we were walking through the woods,” the blond had already started pulling bags from the back of her Tahoe, setting them gently on the ground so that his delta and beta could begin looking through them, “you called her classical?”  

“Classical presenting omegas? It’s a theory that started cropping up in the late nineties,” Tony’s hand bobbed slightly in the air, “widely debated in accuracy. There have been very, very few case studies but they’re pretty promising—essentially, we’re looking at traits that were bred out of omegas a thousand years ago or more that are starting to crop up again due to environmental and cultural stressors.”  

“Or,” Bruce sent the delta a stern look, “it could be the result of genetics; omegas on both sides of the family likely went extremely scarce, to the point of nonexistence. Both parents must’ve carried the same near ancient recessive genotypes, the alleles would’ve had to match up perfectly in order to produce offspring with those traits.”  

“Like I said, it’s widely debated,” Tony rolled his eyes affectionately at the beta, riffling through the bag at his feet, “either way, our omega is displaying traits that haven’t been prominent since the 10th century.”  

“What do we need to do? What do we need to watch out for?” If alpha primes were only good for one thing, it was determining the necessary course of action for their packs’ safety and prosperity.  

“There’s no way to tell for sure exactly what we’re looking at, except for an omega who’s biology is incredibly convoluted and—” the sound Bruce made was one of disdain as he pulled a ziplock with what must’ve been at least a hundred small blue pills in it from one of her bags, “chemically altered beyond belief. How could she even get a hold of so many suppressants?”  

“She’s willful,” Steve sighed, tossing a matching baggy towards the disheveled beta, “Even Peter’s purr doesn’t affect her the way it should, it’s a good thing Thor and I coexist so well—keeping her in hand would be difficult for one prime.”  

“Jesus Christ,” Tony’s jaw dropped as he withdrew a fucking machete from one of the bags, the several hunting knives, snares, and fishing lures neatly arranged in the bag barely even shifting at the jerky movement, “can you imagine an omega using one of these?”  

“That one I can,” the blond snorted, gesturing back over his shoulder with one thumb, “if she’d managed to grab that bag we’d be a couple of packmates short.”  

“This is the one she was about to make a run with,” Bruce held up a wallet, opening it a moment later, “no debit or credit cards, driver’s license for Colorado, local library card, $200 in American money.”  

“There’s a wallet in this one too,” Steve frowned, unzipping it and peeking inside, “looks about the same, license is out of Quebec though—and another library card. No cash in this one though.”  

“I bet it’s hidden in there,” Tony stated, having already pulled out two fifty dollar bills from a small hole in the seam of the inside of his chosen bag, “oh, here’s the suppressant stash from this one.”  

The sound of tires on gravel distracted the three of them, head’s popping up to see Bucky and Carol making their way down the driveway in a dark green Jeep Wrangler. Both looked antsy and there were shopping bags piled so high in the back seat Bucky couldn’t see out of the rear view mirror. Carol was out of the car before it even came to a complete stop, coming to stand in the middle of the chaos of neatly packed bags.  

“This is all she had?” The blonde alpha questioned, frowning at the three remaining boxes and the camping equipment in the back of the Tahoe, eyes briefly passing over the contents of the bags on the ground, “good thing we went overboard with the shopping.”  

“Did you buy her any clothes?” Bruce questioned, looking at a faded, threadbare old t-shirt he’d just withdrawn from the bottom of the duffle, “everything she has is either full of holes or has been washed so much it’s practically see through.”  

“We bought everything,” Bucky answered as he dropped down from the lifted Jeep, “clothes, toiletries, collars, nesting supplies—we grabbed some of those omega diet essentials too, the vitamins and the powder stuff they’re supposed to have.”  

“She inside?” Carol interjected before the conversation could be continued, “I wanna see her.”  

“Thor and Peter took her inside to get cleaned up about 10 minutes ago, Sam’s starting on dinner,” Steve stepped to the side and motioned the two towards the house, “be gentle, she’s… she’s having a hard time.”  

“Have we figured out how long she’s been hiding for?” Bucky ignored his friend’s gesture, turning back towards the Jeep to retrieve several bags, “Wanda told us what sizes to buy but wouldn’t say anything else about her.”  

“This ID says she’s thirty-two,” Steve flicked the plastic ID, having dropped the rest of the wallet back in the bag, “Bruce, what did the one you had say?”  

“Twenty-nine,” the beta’s response was quick enough that the alpha prime knew he’d memorized the details of the ID and anything else he’d found in the bag already, “there’s no telling how long she’s been on her own though—at least a few years considering how well established she is living from her car.”  

“She has two different IDs?” Carol’s eyebrow raised, taking several of the shopping bags Bucky passed her without complaint.  

“And at least a thousand doses of suppressants,” Tony snorted, “a machete, I’m pretty sure if we keep digging we’ll find a gun—”  

“Thank you Tony,” Steve cut the delta off before he could start any nonsense, “we’ve found two wallets with two IDs so far, but she’s got three more bags like this and then those boxes. We’re just trying to sort what she needs from what she doesn’t right now.”  

“How is she?” Bucky’s question was obviously directed at his fellow delta, eyes not wavering even when he saw Steve and Bruce exchange glances.  

“She called me a manipulative monster and tried to bite me.”

“There’s no telling how long she’s been hiding, or what she went through before she started hiding—or even what she’s been through while she’s been hiding,” Bruce sent the delta a look that bordered on provoked, “and you were being antagonistic.”  

“I was not, I was just—”  

“Being yourself, huh?” Carol smirked, dodging past the men and heading up the path towards the mansion before the billionaire could respond.  

“What, you guys think we should’ve waited for the sentient iceberg?” Tony jabbed his thumb towards Bucky, “his delta charm is rustier than that heap of metal we found attached to his arm after he pulled you out of the Potomac.” 

“You don’t even know what charm is yah fuckin’ grifter.”  

Steve dropped his forehead into his hand; there was a consistent theme in large packs that resulted in deltas being at each other’s throats constantly. It would only get worse when Loki arrived, the third of the trio was an entirely different breed of antagonistic. Steve was absolutely sure that all of his packmates looked upon each other with affection, at least 99% of the time, but Tony, Loki, and Bucky fought constantly without an omega’s balancing presence.  

The clearing of a throat silenced the squabbling deltas, attention immediately going to where Bruce stood with a stack of notebooks in his hand, “one of the boxes has notebooks and library books, the other has dry foods. She’s got a sleeping bag, tent, a water filtration system—anything she could need to survive in the woods or her car for an extended period of time.”  

“No notebooks or food in the go bags?” Bucky frowned, arms crossing over his chest and he shifted his weight when they all responded negatively, “I could understand why the notebooks wouldn’t be a priority to bring with her, but no food?”  

“From her supplies it looks like she’s probably a passable hunter, food would take up too much space if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Looks like she prefers hunting knives to bread and peanut butter,” the beta shrugged, motioning to the piles he’d been organizing while Steve tried to mediate the deltas squabble, “each of her bags has a wallet with an ID, cash hidden somewhere, a change of clothing, a bag of suppressants, water filtering tablets, the hunting knife, matches, a water bottle and a thermal blanket.” 

“Pragmatic,” Bucky muttered quietly as he stepped up to the trunk of the Tahoe, glancing at the box of notebooks and library books, “Neotropical Diversification, Monoco—what the fuck, Mono-coty-ledons? Avian Genomics in Ecology and Evolution, Orientation and Navigation in Vertebrates. I don’t know what half of those words even mean, and they’re titles of books.”  

“That’s all environment biology—ecology,” Tony’s eyebrows went up, “niche stuff too, higher level.”  

“Good thing there’s a lot of us to keep her brain occupied,” Bruce’s lips split into a small grin, eyes directed at the pile of knives, “otherwise she’d be difficult to manage. Whatever happened in the meantime, it seems she might’ve attended university at some point—this level of understanding is usually somewhere in a graduate program, although it’s a pretty wide variety of specific topics that aren’t generally associated with each other.” 

“They are library books,” Tony stated with a shrug, “maybe it was all she could get her hands on at this level. We did find multiple library cards, all to different library districts. The ones she has now are all from the same district—does she have any Canadian IDs?”  

“One from Quebec and one from Ontario,” the beta pointed out two bags, one of which was sitting by Steve’s feet, “those two bags. The other IDs were Colorado, Alaska, and Michigan. We’ll have to figure out which one is real, if she has a real one. The name of the housekeeper the company assigned to us matches the Ontario ID.”  

“This is insane,” Steve sighed, shoulders heaving with the breath, “she must be running from something, hiding.”  

“Wanda will tell us, I’m sure,” Bucky’s flesh hand landed on the blond’s shoulder with a clap, fingers squeezing momentarily, “for now, how about we just focus on getting her settled in the cabin with her things.”  

“Should we let her get settled here?” Bruce frowned, a worried line creasing his forehead, “I’m worried it could be detrimental, for her to adapt here and have to move to the compound once our vacation is over. As soon as she starts to get comfortable she’s gonna be uprooted all over again.”  

“We’ll discuss it tonight at dinner,” Steve spoke before anyone else could prolong the debate, “Hopefully Natasha, Clint, and Loki will get here in time. Sam’s making lasagna, said we wouldn’t be eating until late anyway. Let’s bring everything in, minus the things she doesn’t need.”  

“Nesting supplies to the laundry room?”  

“Yeah, toiletries to Nat and Wanda’s bathroom. Put her clothes with mine or Thor’s,” the blond alpha instructed, heaving several bags into each arm before turning on his heel and heading into the house, “leave the camping supplies, we’ll lock up what she doesn’t need back in the garage for now.”  

Her scent, chemically masked and altered, was emanating through the entire cabin, he could smell it the moment he stepped over the threshold. Everything looked spotless and he smiled, ducking his head slightly to hide it; he liked that the whole house smelled like his omega—their omega, who’d spent a lot of time and effort making everything look perfect for their arrival.  

Wanda and Carol were in the living room, bathed in the light of the sun just beginning its descent. The stairs, one set leading up and one down, were straight ahead, blocking the view of the kitchen, dining room, and study. The parlor to his left featured haphazardly abandoned suitcases, the rest of the pack who couldn’t quite be bothered at the moment to properly deal with their things.  

The smell got stronger up the stairs, he could hear the low rumble of both Thor and Peter’s combined purr. Their omega was in distress—alpha’s struggled when omegas were in distress and Steve imagined both were getting their hearts twisted in their chests. His packmates dispersed to follow their assigned tasks, Bruce joining Sam in the kitchen to help with dinner. Steve dropped bags at the appropriate doors in the hall before making his way through Thor’s room and into the bathroom, where the two alphas were practically piled in the tub with their omega.  

Peter sat on the edge of the tub, pants rolled up past his knees and his legs in the water where she was leant up against them. Thor was half in the water, shirt gone as he leaned over to clean the mud and grime from her skin, manipulating her limp limbs gently.  

“I take it she didn’t want a bath,” Steve murmured, eyes flashing around the half destroyed bathroom.  

“She can fight my purr more than we expected,” Peter looked almost bashful, the hand that wasn’t stroking her cheek running over the back of his head.  

“Omegas on Asgard are very similar to her,” Thor commented quietly, still focused on his task, “its why I found them so meek when I first arrived—Omegas are willful and determined. She just needs to be trained, her behavior can be corrected.”  

“I know there are omega protests sometimes, but I’ve never seen one completely reject packs,” the brunet alpha was frowning, “they have biological requirements for interaction with others—her body can’t generate certain chemicals without the necessary pheromones that the different presentations provide. It could stunt her immune system, damage hormone glands like the thyroid and—”  

“We’ll get all of that figured out Peter, we can fix anything that’s wrong with her,” Steve told himself it wasn’t a false promise, “it’ll just take time and a lot of effort. Let’s get her dressed and up to the attic. Bucky took all of the extra bedding for nesting to wash but we can make do with what we’ve got temporarily, the scents might help.”  

“Would you grab one of my shirts?” Thor asked, looking back at the other prime imploringly; it wasn’t just a simple request—Thor was asking that their shared omega be scented by his clothing first.  

Steve hadn’t been born an alpha prime. Sometimes, he felt like a delta that had been gutted and pumped with morphine—his empathy had been stolen, replaced with strength and adrenaline and aggression. He missed the part of himself that allowed him the deeper connection with others, the amount of effort he had to expend to determine the emotions of his pack made him feel like an alien (especially if they weren’t telegraphed by scent), but sometimes it was okay. Sometimes, it meant he had a wider understanding than other alpha primes because while he didn’t retain the heightened sense, he knew where to start to unravel their puzzles.  

With Thor it was easiest. All he really had to do was follow his own stream of consciousness—wanting the omega clean and warm and fed and scented. He wanted her to smell like him, wanted her wrapped in his clothes, his blankets, he wanted it beneath her skin and seeping from her pores. And so did Thor. The Aesir was asking Steve to take a loss, to not fight him for the right to scent her first.  

It was a good thing he hadn’t been an alpha prime, or the request would’ve absolutely ended in some sort of dominance display. Aggression had immediately surged though his chest at the question, the challenge, the demand, he needed to prove he deserved it more—Steve shook his head firmly, cleared his throat, and rolled his shoulders back before making eye contact with the other prime.  

“Sure thing, any in particular?”  

There was relief on Thor’s face, along with understanding; he was fully aware of the sacrifice Steve was making and the effort it took to make it, “I know you’ll chose the right thing.”  

They didn’t realize their omega was practically having an out of body experience­—that she felt like she was hovering over her own body, watching in horror as the two alpha primes who’s mingled scents she was sure marked each and every one of their packmates, communicated like real people. The suppressants hadn’t completely brutalized her scent receptors or hindbrain; she’d known there was something too much about the blond alphas, something that whispered to her omega senses. They were alpha primes and that was a nightmare.

Because alpha primes weren’t supposed to co-habitate. They didn’t share. They were aggressive, territorial, verging on violent. The idea that the two had somehow weaseled their way through that instinctive disposition upon meeting, had managed to form a pack—it didn’t bear thinking about. All she needed to think about was getting out quickly, before something irreversible happened and she was trapped forever.