#shrugs shrugs but idk I don’t have to make it a whole event or whatever I could just call him my husband like I did during the three years*

[morticiankisser]

okay listen here me out what if i did a wedding announcement for 🪲🧃 in february?? thoughts??

[mrwinterr]

Fast In My Car

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Summary: Self-driving car sex. That’s it. 

Warnings: Adult themes | 🚫 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🚫 | Smut 18+ (unprotected sex [risky business], vaginal penetration, oral [male receiving], riding, creampie), dirty talk and language.

Disclaimer: None of the spooky events of the Stranger Things (2016) series take place in this piece. Everything is just where it’s at because this is made up. 

A/N: I don’t own a car with this feature, so oops on the technicalities. We’re just trying to have fun. Self-driving or not, lol, this is dangerous, but sexy too. Idk if this has been done. It’s just another car sex fic.   

mrwinterr masterlist

When Steve said he had a surprise, you thought it would be something simple like flowers, candy or some cute gift, but what you don’t expect is him with a new car. 

“Check it out!” he exclaims from the curb, a big smile on his face, his arms outstretched wide with the new shiny vehicle glistening in the sunlight behind him. He looked so happy and who wouldn’t be with a new car, right? 

There was nothing wrong with his BMW, so you were a little confused. He had the best car from the lot, courtesy of his parents, and while your own car was still holding its own, you remained steadfast in your refusal to mooch off their wealth, which they’d grown indifferent to. You knew they meant well in their own way. They gave Steve everything he wanted and only the best for him, but you just weren’t cut from the same cloth. 

“Where did you get that?” your first reaction was to question it, although you already had a good feeling from where. 

“At the dealership,” he answered simply. 

“Okay, not what I meant, babe. I mean how and why?” you clarify not one for playing dumb with him at that moment. 

“My parents wanted to surprise us,” he explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to do. 

“There’s nothing wrong with the car you have,” you noted.

“Had,” he corrects you before revealing the fate of his car, “they traded the BMW.” 

“What?” you exclaimed, taken aback. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Come on, it’s just a car. People trade in for new ones all the time.” Everything was just that easy for the Harringtons. “Okay, not everyone...or all the time,” he admits, seeing the unamused look on your face. “I didn’t know you liked the BMW that much.” 

“It’s not that…I don’t know,” you trailed off, trying to not sound sentimental. “We just had a lot of memories with the BMW.” 

Steve’s expression softened as he started reminiscing about the nostalgia tied to his old car. He picked you up for your first date in that car. He drove you to work with that car when yours would inconveniently break down. You both went on several road trips in that car. Among a lot of other things…in that car. 

“Couldn’t they have given us something else? Like…I don’t know, a house in Chicago maybe,” you unrealistically suggest, but wouldn’t completely put it past them. 

“What’s wrong with the house we have right now?” He asks, failing to grasp your point. 

“This is your parents’ house!” You remind him, gesturing toward the big house behind you. 

“They barely live here. It’s practically ours.” Steve reasons. 

“Not the point,” you say, hands on your hips, not amused by that answer either. 

“Whatever. Let’s take this for a spin.”

You sigh and reluctantly make your way to the passenger side, where he held the door open for you. 

~

Steve took the long way to everything during the whole drive and you were getting bored fast. Admittedly, the ride was smooth and the seats were very comfortable. You struggle to keep your eyes open and head up right, trying to not doze off. 

It was such a mundane thing, Steve driving around town with one hand on the wheel while the other on your thigh, sometimes in your hand. You didn’t think much of it at first, but when you start to feel him get a little too handsy, you rouse awake. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Well, you mentioned how we have so much history with the BMW…I was thinking maybe we can make some memories here,” he shrugs casually, continuing to drive through the backroads. 

“I’m not having sex with you in this car just for that reason,” you retort.��

“Why not? It has a self-driving feature,” he counters like that would help his case. 

“That still doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay attention to the road.” 

“How is you giving me road head in the BMW going to be any different in here?” 

“Steve!” You yell appalled by his bluntness on the topic. 

“If anything, it’ll be easier for me to keep the car on the road.” He’s really trying to upsell you on that self-driving feature, “…and the windows are tinted. No one will see us.” He can see the gears in your head turning, contemplating your next move. You just need a little nudge and Steve knows how to push your buttons. 

“You can’t tell me that car sex isn’t hot.” His hand sliding further up your skirt. He can feel the heat radiating from your core through the thin barrier of your underwear, which boosts his confidence in his plan. He has to bite his bottom lip to conceal the smirk. 

There were so many things wrong about this like endangering not only your lives but others, getting caught, and wrecking the car to name a few, but despite that, he’s right; you can’t deny the idea. It was dangerous but also thrilling. 

You huff at his triumph, unbuckle your seatbelt, and turn to face him. Giddy, he pushes his chair back to make room for you, but at enough distance for him to ensure he can still reach the steering wheel should he need to. 

“You’re taking us home right after this,” you demand, watching him nod his head eagerly, then reach to grab him. “Shit, Steve,” you pull your hand back not expecting him to be half hard already. 

“What? You’re the one that put the idea of us fucking in a car in my head. I can’t help but think about it,” he says defensively, trying to shift some of the blame on you. “Plus, your legs look really nice.” 

Shaking your head, you refocus your attention on undressing his lower half. Steve raises his hips as best as he could to help you tug his pants and boxers down enough for his cock to spring out. 

You wrap your hand around his length, giving it a light squeeze before pumping him in a gradual pace you knew that got him going. You watch his lips part at the sensation you’re conjuring from him, and it only encourages you to continue. Seeing Steve come undone is one of your favorite things. 

Leaning over the console, you get closer, poke your tongue out to swirl it around the head, collecting the small bead of pre-cum pooling from the slit. Your mouth waters at the taste, hungry for more, so you skip the teasing and go right for it. Steve sighs when you take him in your mouth, your lips enclosed around his cock.  

You look up high to the left to see he’s thrown his head back against the headrest, eyes closed, so you pull yourself off him. “Hey! Eyes on the road!” He jolts, your warning ringing through his ears, straightening up a bit and a hand back on the wheel. 

You’re soon bobbing your head up and down his length, a hand assisting in the job before you slowly start taking more of him inch by inch. He bunches up your hair in his hands to get a good view, sneaking a peek while still trying to keep his eyes trained on the road. Feeling the head of cock hitting the back of your throat stirs something animalistic in Steve. You have to keep your hands on his hips to force them down, so he doesn’t lodge himself any deeper than you could handle. 

“Fuck. You’re so good at that.“ His voice drones with the sloppy sounds from working your mouth on his cock. 

You hold him in place for a few seconds until you pull away, in desperate need for air, a mix of fluids running down your chin, but continue fisting his cock, feeling him grow harder.

Satisfied, you carefully maneuver over to him, claiming his lap as your new seat. It’s an awkward angle, but nothing new to you both. You hike your skirt up and push the slit of your underwear to the side. You let out a long moan as you lower yourself down on his thick cock. Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you close your eyes to focus on the sensation wracking through your body, doing your best to ignore the sting from being stretched out. 

“Yes,” he lets out as you’re fully seated on his thick cock, allowing him to bask in the warmth of your wet and inviting pussy. “You’re so tight,” he whines, feeling your walls contract around him involuntarily, waiting patiently for you to get used to his girth. 

It’s always a bit of a struggle, but once you get accustomed to him, you pull your face away, brace your palms on his clothed chest and start to bounce on his cock. High enough to keep the tip snuggled inside and low enough to feel his balls press up against the bottom of your ass. He looks down, gawking at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in you. 

“You’re so wet,” he says, licking his lips at the delicious sight. “You like riding my cock don’t you?” He knows you do. Your juices make certain of that when it starts overflowing that it starts to drip down his balls, soaking his seat. 

He’s just eating up the effects that his words have on you, the vulnerable look displayed on your face, so different from the one that was reprimanding him earlier. “Making such a mess,” he chastises, grabbing a hold of your chin forcibly to look at him. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open from the orgasm building up in you. Once he has your attention, his stare is intense as he gravely speaks out, “my dirty girl,” before smashing your lips together, his tongue inviting himself in your mouth seeking your own.  

It’s not enough for Steve to be just content with his cock buried deep inside you, he pulls your top down, your breasts spilling out. “God, I love your tits,” he groans, taking his other hand off the wheel so he could get a good fill of them in his hands. 

Moaning at the sensation when his mouth latches onto them, teasingly nibbling the hardened buds, you get more heated. You start grinding on him, your hips swiveling in circular motions. He loves when you do this because it allows him to feel every part of you, sending him into overdrive. 

“That’s it, grind on that cock, baby,” he mumbles against your chest, his hot breath fanning your skin.

“It’s so good,” you praise his cock. You let out a choked gasp when you ground harder, switching from circular to back and forth motions, “you’re so deep.” Feeling your body shiver, you try to memorize the angle where he’d just probed at, desperately needing him to hit it again. 

Your efforts proving futile, Steve notices your hips losing its rhythm, so he decides to take control. Sneaking his hands around to grope the globes of your ass, he draws you in closer to him, thrusting his cock deep inside to find it for you and judging by the volume of your moans getting louder and louder plus the way your walls contract around his member, he’s found your sweet spot. 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes,” your voice wavering. You use the bit of strength remaining in your legs to sit up to focus on him. “Steve, I’m gonna cum,” your warning pushing him to drive it home.  

“Oh, baby,” he coos, bringing a hand up to push away the sweaty hair matted on your face. He loved watching you unravel too. He grips the side of your hips, fingers digging into your skin, not a care given about the marks they’d leave, and starts lifting you up and down his cock. 

“Right there! Fuck, yes. Steve, baby, right there.” 

“Yeah? You got it, baby.” He pistons his hips up into you, loving the way your breasts bounce from his harsh thrusts. “That’s it. Fucking come all over my cock…I’m right behind you, honey.” 

Your thighs clamped around his hips, hands twisting his shirt from the tight grip you held, you let out a silent sob as your orgasm rocks through you. Steve makes good on his word because as your walls start pulsing around his cock, it’s enough to make him come. His arms tightly wrapped around you, keeping you close and rooted down, he stills. Sensitive, you flinch and groan in bliss from feeling, the throb of each spurt of his cum shooting deep inside you.

When you both come down from the high, your body is slumped over him. Steve tilts your head leaning in to kiss you tenderly. He pulls away, a soft smile adorns his perfect face as you gaze lovingly at him. You almost forget that you’re in a moving vehicle until the warning noise breaks your catatonic state. 

“Shit,” he panics, letting go of you, quickly reaching over to align the wheel, almost crushing you in-between. You shoot him a threatening look to which he returns with a sheepish smile. 

“It’s cool! We’re alive aren’t we?” 

Shaking your head, Steve hissed as you carefully removed yourself from him, quickly sliding your panties back in place, not wanting to make a bigger mess than you already have or leave any stains before you climb over back to your seat. 

He pulls his pants back up on his own as you try to fix your appearance, but the post-coital glow doesn’t allow you to. He doesn’t look any more innocent either and he doesn’t care. These memories are yours alone. 

“Can we please go home now?” You ask, buckling up again. 

He looks over watching you draw a small heart on the foggy passenger side window, one of your quirky ways of expressing your love. 

“Yes, honey,” he says with a sweet smile, reaching over to hold your hand, and then taking the shortcut back home. 

A/N: Well that came out of nowhere. I'm a little rusty, but I'm done looking at this. Please give it a like, reblog or reply. I’d love to hear what y’all thought. Thank you for reading!

[ravencoloredroses]

All That Matters

Nyx x Reader (Eris’ daughter)

Summary: Nyx and Eris’ daughter have known each other their whole lives. With a new alliance forming between the Autumn Court and the Night Court, their hatred towards each other will be challenged as they are forced to grow closer.

Word Count: 6,445

Warning: Swearing

A/N: request by anonymous: “Nyx and Eris' daughter!!!! Idk why but the idea of it is just so exciting for me. Since there dads are friendly (kinda) high lords they've known and seen each other around alot but are enemies to lovers” I love these characters so much! I might make another story with them… something like romeo and juliet maybe??

——————————————————————————

The last time my father wanted to see me in his office was when I was being sent away to boarding school. I’m not as naive as I was back then, but I know that whatever he has to tell me, I will have little to no say in. That's how it’s always been and always will be.

Being the only daughter to the High Lord of the Autumn Court, I’m widely considered a spoiled brat who gets everything she asks for, which isn’t necessarily false. But people don’t realize, or don’t even want to realize, that every decision is made for me. What I wear, what I eat, how I talk, how much I talk, what events I go to and who I’m allowed to be seen with.

My older brother is the heir, the golden child, he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants without anyone questioning anything. It pisses me off and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

I take a few deep breaths to try and calm my nerves, emphasis on try, then push open the office door. My father has an unreadable expression on his face as he tells me to take a seat.

“Good morning sweetheart, how did you sleep?”

He’s stalling

“Good morning father, it was alright.”

I take note of his stiff posture, the stacks of documents on his desk and the mountain of crumpled pieces of paper in the garbage can. This can’t be good.

“As you know, it is my responsibility to ensure the safety of our people here in Autumn and sometimes that responsibility falls onto you. Alliances are an important part in ensuring our people are safe, especially in times of war.

“I’ve spoken with my advisers on this matter, but the final decision is mine to make and I’ve decided an alliance with the Night Court is in our best interest.”

I’m not quite sure what any of this has to do with me and my confusion must show on my face because my father elaborates.

“Rhysand, Feyre and I have come to an agreement that you will marry their son Nyx, before the week is out.”

“W-what? Father, you can’t be serious.” This has to be a joke, there is no way he’s actually suggesting I marry that Night Court piece of shit.

Nyx is slightly older than I am, meaning we’ve seen each other at almost every event for our entire lives. He’s never been nice to me, not once. Even when we were really little he was a bully, the type of kid to ‘fall’ off the swing set and then go crying to mommy blaming you for it.

As an adult he’s not any better, walking around like he’s better than everyone and has girls practically falling at his feet when he just looks at them. I don’t blame them though, when you look in his eyes it’s like you’re deep diving in the ocean and will never run out of air. I’ve never seen anything like it and if he ever looked at me the way he does some of them, I don’t even know what I would do.

But he only looks at me with eyes of disgust and hatred, which is fine by me, the feeling is mutual. He might be the most attractive male I’ve ever seen, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s one of the worst people I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. And now I’m marrying him.

“I know it’s out of the blue and a little rushed, but this has to be done, it’s already been decided.”

Right. It’s not like I’m gonna be spending the rest of my immortal life with him, so why does it matter what I think?

“Nyx is okay with this?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“You will be moving to the Night Court with him and when Rhysand and Feyre pass on, you will be expected to rule alongside Nyx and produce an heir.”

There’s nothing I can say or do that will make any of this better, so I just put my head down and shut up. I can, and will, cry my eyes out later.

“Yes, father.”

“Perfect. Now, go and enjoy your day, the weather looks lovely.”

This day is going to be anything but enjoyable. As I make my way back up to my room I pass a couple members of our staff, they must be able to tell that I wish to be left alone because they don’t even make eye contact with me. I’m appreciative of that, I don’t think I could handle sympathy looks right now.

Closing and locking my door behind me, I collapse on the ground and let my tears fall, holding my hand over my mouth to control the noise. I sit like this for hours, at least it feels like hours, and when my tears have finally dried up, I head over to my bathroom. I avoid looking at myself in the mirror, turn the faucet on and start to undress.

Normally, a bath with my favorite soaps will soothe me, but this time it does absolutely nothing. I wait for my fingertips to prune to get out of the tub, then change into my nightgown and head to bed; I just need this day to be over.

“You look lovely, dear.” My stylist asks me to twirl so they can view my whole look. I have to admit, I do look lovely, but none of that matters right now, today is the day where I lose whatever remains of my freedom.

“Can I have a minute with my sister?” My brother slips into the room and I give a small nod to my staff.

“Did you know?” I’ve been curious about this since my father told me, he always talks to my brother first.

“I did.” He looks down, ashamed. “Nyx is a good male, he won’t harm you.”

“You can’t possibly promise me that.” He closes the distance between us and grabs my hand.

“You are my favorite sister, if he even pulls a hair out from your head I will knock a few of his teeth out.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m your only sister and you won’t even be living with me anymore, how will you know if he harms me?”

He cracks a smile and releases my hands. “I have my ways dear sis, I have my ways. If you need to, look at me in the audience, I’ll be in the front row.” He winks and walks back out the door, which is soon opened again by a staff member.

“It’s time, my lady.”

I’m handed a bouquet and suddenly I’m walking towards the altar on a flowered path. I round the corner and I feel about 1,000 pairs of eyes on me so I look down and focus on not falling. I make the mistake of looking up and see Nyx standing there waiting for me. His eyes run over my body and I swear there was a smile on his face, but it’s quickly replaced with a blank stare when we make eye contact.

He extends a hand to help me up the small staircase while a member of my ‘bridal party’ takes my bouquet and fixes my dress. I’m mad at myself for the way my heart beats faster because I know it’s just an act for him to appear like a gentleman. I stare down at our joined hands and zone out for a while until I hear Nyx’s deep voice say “I do.” My eyes jump up to meet his and I realize everyone is waiting for me.

“I do.”

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Fuck. I forgot about this part. Nyx pulls me close and presses his lips to mine. I try not to think about how soft they are or how long this is lasting, but it’s pretty damn hard to do that as his hand moves to the back of my neck and presses me closer.

Is this all for show too?

When he finally pulls away and faces us towards the audience, my eyes search out my brother. He’s watching me with somewhat of a proud expression. I notice Nyx’s family -my new family- looking at us with watchful eyes, that’s not surprising based on the little knowledge I have of these people. I’m surprised Rhysand agreed to this if I’m being honest. The Autumn and Night Courts have never gotten along, but once my grandfather died of ‘natural causes’, Rhysand and my dad became friendly with each other.

Nyx walks me back down the aisle without dropping my hand and then we head off to my new home, the Night Court.

It takes longer than I thought it would to get there, but it might have just been because it was dead silent the whole time. I thought that we would be living in the same house as the rest of Nyx’s family, but apparently we have our own place. Maybe it will be better this way, maybe this will give Nyx and I time to get along.

On the outside it looks like just a small cottage nestled into the mountains, but the inside is incredibly spacious and already filled with everything we will need. Newly renovated kitchen and bathroom, a cozy living room, an office and a bedroom with a walk-in closet and an attached bathroom. A bedroom. Singular.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” He announces while walking past me into the bathroom. Well, that settles that I guess. I change out of my uncomfortable dress and into a large sweater and leggings, then begin to unpack my things. When Nyx re-emerges from the bathroom he has changed as well, trading his tuxedo for a simple cotton t-shirt and sweatpants. I meet him in the hallway and start to ask about what’s next, but he doesn’t let me.

“I don’t care what you do, so long as it doesn’t involve me. I will be gone all day and only return for sleep to appease my parents. Do whatever you want.” He walks out the front door and flys away. Isn’t your wedding supposed to be the happiest day of your life?

I noticed multiple bookshelves when we first arrived, but I didn’t get the chance to see what books were on it. I find one that looks good and sit down on the couch to begin reading.

I didn’t notice the sky getting dark, but as I finish my book my stomach growls and I realize I haven’t eaten since this morning. I go into the kitchen and find a can of chicken noodle soup in one of the cupboards. I grab a pot and start to warm it up. Once it’s at a good temperature, I grab a bowl to pour it in and sit down at the table to eat.

Just as I get up to wash my bowl, Nyx marches through the door. He walks right past me into the bathroom without even a glance. When he comes back out, he plops down on the couch. I sigh and start to get ready for bed. Is this what the rest of my life is gonna be like?

Three days. The same routine for three more days. It’s been almost a full week since our wedding and he’s completely avoiding me.

It’s around dusk when a loud knock sounds at my front door. I mark my place in my book and open the door to find my brother standing there.

“Hey! What are you-“

“Where is he?” He pushes right past me into the house.

“Nyx? He’s. He’s um.”

“You don’t know, do you?” He spins around to face me and I shake my head in embarrassment. “How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”

“Three days.”

“That fucking asshole. Who does he think he is? The fucking king?” He starts to pace around the room and keeps spitting out insults about Nyx.

“Why are you here, brother?” I ask to stop him.

“I told you I’d be checking up on you, I’ve been seeing you doing the same thing everyday. That male has no right to keep you here locked up while he goes out doing mother knows what!”

He’s right. I know he’s right, but why do I feel this urge of protectiveness towards Nyx? He’s probably just busy, right? He’s the heir so he has a bunch of important things to be doing. But all day?

“Don’t worry, I’ll go find him and put an end to this.” He doesn’t give me a chance to reply before he’s storming out the door and slamming it behind him.

It’s not until I’m about to go to bed that I hear the front door open. I sit on the bed and listen for footsteps. They stop outside the bedroom door, I hear a sigh and then a light knock.

“Come in.” I call out, Nyx slowly pushes the door open and steps inside. He looks like he just got punched in the face. His left cheek is already starting to bruise and his eyes are red and puffy. Has he been crying?

“Nyx! What happened?” I go to get up but he puts his hand out signially me to stay sitting.

“I’ll be okay, but-“ He takes a deep breath. “We need to talk.” No good conversation ever starts with that phrase.

“Oh- okay. About what?”

“I want to apologize.” He says as he sits down on the bed next to me. I was not expecting that. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. It’s not fair to you and it was wrong for me to treat you that way. I know you have no obligation to accept my apology, but I’d at least like to have the opportunity to start over. If that’s okay with you.” He takes a deep breath and looks up at me.

“Did I do something to make you hate me?”

“No!” He rakes his hand through his hair and sighs. “When we were kids, I was intimidated by you. You had everything I’ve ever wanted, independence, confidence and I hated you for that.” He looks up at me. “I treated you like shit to make myself feel better. It was dumb and I was an idiot and I’m so sorry. I know that this relationship was forced on both of us, but if you would allow me to, I’d like to actually give it a try. I’ve um- I’ve had feelings for you for a while, and for the longest time I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t true. But it is true and I feel like I ruined any chance that we had and I completely understand if you want nothing to do with me anymor-“

“Nyx.” I cut him off and slowly move my hands to grab his, giving him enough time to pull away if he wanted to. He doesn’t. “I accept your apology. I’m not going to lie, a lot of the things you did hurt me.” I take a deep breath. “But it’s nothing that we can’t work past and I feel like starting over is a great idea.”

I give his hand a slight squeeze and then let go. “Would you like me to grab the first aid kit?” His face has only gotten worse since he came in. He gives me a small nod, I go into the bathroom and come back to hand him the box.

“Thank you.” He whispers and I know he’s not just talking about the kit.

“You’re welcome.”

It’s around time for dinner when I finish putting all my stuff away. I haven’t seen Nyx since we've talked, but I think he’s in the office, so I gently knock on the door and wait for an answer. I hear soft footsteps approach and he slowly opens the door. “I was just wondering if you wanted to eat dinner… with me… soon?”

Nyx looks behind him at the clock on the wall and then steps out into the hallway with me. “Sure.”

I must have been staring at the kitchen for a while because Nyx moves into my vision.

“You’ve never cooked before, have you?”

I shake my head and look down at my hands. “No.” I only know how to heat things up. I’ve never cooked anything so I can already tell this is gonna be embarrassing.

“I can teach you. If you want.” I look up at him, shocked. “My mom, she taught me. It’s not as hard as it seems.” He walks over to one of the cabinets and pulls out a pot. “How do you feel about spaghetti?”

“I think that sounds great.” He gives me a small smile, places the pot on the stove and walks back over to me.

“Okay. Step one, you're going to have to pull your hair up.”I subconsciously reach back to touch my hair.

“Right. I- um. I don’t have a hair tie…” He gets up and walks into the bedroom, then comes back with a scrunchie in hand. I expect him to just hand it to me, but he twirls his finger asking me to turn around. His fingers graze the back of my neck as he picks up my hair and I hold in my shiver. He separates it into three sections and begins braiding. It doesn’t take long before he’s securing the end with the scrunchie and then steps back to view his work.

“T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He coughs then steps around me and heads to the stove.

“Step two, boil water.” He picks up the pot, goes to the sink and turns on the faucet. When it’s full he carefully carries it over to the stove and turns on the burner. We stare at it for a while in awkward silence until I hear bubbles popping, which I assume means it’s boiling.

“Step three, noodles.” I remember seeing the box of spaghetti in the pantry when we first arrived, so I go grab it and hand it over to him. He grabs a handful and drops them in the water. “Now we wait.” He says as he puts the box back and grabs a jar of sauce.

It was actually really interesting to see how the noodles slowly fall into the water as they soften up. “How do we know when they are done?”

He looks over at me with a smile on his face and grabs a wooden spoon. “Like this.” He picks up a noodle and throws it at the wall. It falls straight to the ground. “Ah. Needs a couple more minutes.”

“Um… What did you just do?”

“If it sticks, it’s done.”

“Oooooh.”

He laughs. “What did you think I was doing?”

“I honestly have no fucking clue.” Now we’re both laughing and it feels amazing. “Can I try the next one?”

He nods and hands me the spoon. “Go for it.”

I fish around for one in the pot, then fling it onto the wall. It sticks.

“It worked!” I place the spoon back on the counter and turn to face Nyx.

“You didn’t believe me?” He asks, jokingly and grabs a strainer from the drawer behind me. “Can you turn the burner off?” While I do, he dumps out the water leaving just the spaghetti in the strainer. “Okay. Step four, sauce.”

I try to be helpful and open the jar, but I guess I’m not strong enough so Nyx comes over to help me.

“Here, let me.” He opens it on the first try, then pours it over the noodles. “Now we eat.”

I grab two bowls from the cabinet as we head over to the table to eat.

“Thank you for teaching me. I’ve always wanted to learn how to cook.”

“You’re welcome. Spaghetti is pretty easy, next time we can try something a little more difficult if you’d like.” I smile as we continue to eat in comfortable silence. When we’ve finished Nyx offers to do the dishes while I clean up the table. After we’re done we get ready for bed and I come into the bedroom, finding Nyx staring at the bed.

“You don’t have to, anymore.” He looks at me confused. “Sleep on the couch, I mean. The bed is pretty big, so we can share it.” He gives me a small nod and heads into the bathroom.

I’ve already changed into my nightgown by the time he comes back. “Um, because of my wings I have to sleep on my stomach. I hope that’s alright.” I look over to find that he’s shirtless, just wearing loose sweatpants that are basically falling off. My eyes trail over his defined abs and the v-line that leads down to his-. My eyes jump back up and I see that he’s smirking at me. I turn my head away and clear my throat.

“Ye-Yeah that’s fine.” I never thought about how Illyrians sleep, but it makes sense that they can’t sleep on their backs. He pulls back the covers to get in and I follow shortly after.

His wings are tucked in and it looks super uncomfortable. “You can let your wings rest. I won’t mind.” He looks up at me surprised, I give him a small smile and a nod. I lay down on my back and he flares his wings out as we both drift off to sleep.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I wake up to the light shining in through the window and a heavy weight on top of me. I slowly open my eyes to find a huge wing laying over my chest, then I notice that I’m pinned underneath the body that wing is attached to. We’re Cuddling. Even if I wanted to push Nyx off of me I couldn’t, but for some reason I don’t even bother to try. His face is nuzzled into my neck and he’s wrapped an arm around my waist. He smells so fucking good.

I lay there wide awake for who knows how long before he starts to stir. He wakes with a yawn and hugs me closer. He must realize what he’s doing because he quickly jumps up, scaring the shit out of me.

“Oh- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ His face is bright red.

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind.” He gives me a nod and heads into the bathroom. I get up to fix the covers on the bed while I wait for him to finish. He comes out with sopping wet hair and a towel thrown loosely around his hips. I hurry into the bathroom before I can do something I’ll absolutely regret later.

I splash cold water on my face about twelve times before I actually begin getting ready.

When I come back out, Nyx is sitting on the bed holding a note. “What’s that?”

“It’s from my mom, she wants us to join them for dinner tonight.” He looks up at me and hands over the letter.

My dearest Nyx and Y/N,

I hope this isn’t too late of notice, but we would really love to see you both at our family dinner tonight. The table isn’t complete without you.

~F.

I sit down and give him the letter back. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can come up with an excuse, it's no big deal.”

“We can go.”

“Something like we have obligations elsewher- wait what did you say?”

I turn my body slightly to face him and lightly chuckle. “I said, we can go. It will be nice to meet your family.” I think. Actually wait on second thought... No, it’s gonna have to happen eventually, might as well get it over with.

“Okay, yeah. We can go. Um, I just feel like I should warn you.” Uh-oh. “My family is different from most, it can be overwhelming. Everyone has very watchful eyes, they will be tracking your every move, especially my uncle Azriel. He has… history with your father and will probably not like you at first. The same thing goes for my aunt Mor, so please don’t be offended if they don’t open up to you right away, it’s nothing personal.”

Nothing personal. I’ve heard stories of the hatred between the Autumn and Night courts, but I normally just have to deal with rude stares or nasty side comments. I’ve never eaten dinner with people who hate me.

He grabs my hand and looks over at me. “If you ever want to leave, just tell me and we'll go. No questions asked.” I nod and slightly smile. I wasn’t nervous before, but now I’m second guessing saying yes. “I promise nothing bad will happen.”

You can’t possibly promise me that.

“I have nothing to wear.” I say standing up.

“That box is addressed to you, from my mom.” He points to a box sitting on the floor that I never noticed. I place it on the bed, undo the ribbon and open the lid. Inside is the most stunning dress I’ve ever seen. Dark, navy blue suede with ¾ length sleeves. Night Court colors. Beneath a layer of tissue paper are matching heels, that thankfully aren’t too high.

Nyx leans over on the bed to peer into the box. “Oh I have something that matches that perfectly!” He runs over to the closet and returns with a suit the exact same shade.

“It’s perfect.” I look up to find him already staring at me.

“Let’s get ready, shall we?”

I brush out my curls to loosen them up a bit and move over to look in the mirror. The dress fits me perfectly, it accentuates my curves but still looks elegant. Unfortunately, even looking as good as I do does absolutely nothing to help my nerves. My hands are slightly shaking and I doubt there is anything I can do to stop it.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Nyx softly knocks on the door, his way of letting me know that I’m taking too long. One glance at the clock behind me says he’s right, we have to leave soon.

I turn around and head towards the door, Nyx has already opened it and is staring at me with an expression I can’t quite determine.

“You- You look beautiful.” His eyes roam over my figure in a way that seems far too intimate, but I love it anyway.

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” I feel my cheeks getting hot, but that’s the least of my worries at the moment. I reach out to take his hand, but hesitate when I see that mine are still shaking. “Are you ready?” I just need to get this over with.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He extends his arm out for me to take and then winnows us off to his parents house.

“Remember, you want to leave and we leave. No questions asked.” Nyx assures me as we walk up the pathway. I give his arm a squeeze as my response because I’m saving all my energy for what’s to come.

He doesn’t knock on the door, just walks right in and the chatter that I heard from on the porch abruptly stops. Silence. Just the sound of my heels clicking on the tile.

Two dark figures round the corner, one shorter than the other but both exude power. I already know who they are before they come into the light.

“Mom, Dad, thank you for inviting us over.” Nyx lets go of my arm to give his parents a hug while I stand by myself awkwardly.

Rhysand breaks away first to greet me. “Y/N, welcome to our home. We’re so glad you could make it.” He gives my hand a slight shake and then escorts me towards what I presume to be the dining room. I’m greeted with seven unhappy faces, each one more angry than the first.

Four females, one who is doing her best to not meet my eyes, one who looks ready to chop my head off, one who looks like she has better places to be and the last one seems to be as terrified as I am. There are two winged males at the table as well, one with long hair who has a watchful gaze and the other who seems to be assessing all the ways he can kill me while these black things float around him. I already hate it here.

“Y/N, these are the members of our family. Mor, Nesta, Amren, Elain, Cassian and Azriel.” Feyre says behind me as I give a smile and take my seat between Nyx and Cassian with Azriel across from me.

“Alright. Now that we’re all here, let’s eat shall we?” Rhysand gives a small gesture towards the table and all the plates are filled with food. I don’t even bother to see what it is, I just need my hands to be doing something before I go crazy, so I begin to eat right away. Everyone else follows suit and it takes about 5 minutes before Feyre breaks the deafening silence. “Have you been enjoying the Night Court since your arrival?”

“I haven’t seen much of it, but what I have seen is beautiful.” I take a small sip of water.

“Oh that’s a pity! Nyx, why haven’t you taken Y/N out to see more?”

“We really haven’t had the time, Mom. We will soon though.” And the game of silence begins again. This time it’s broken by Nesta slamming down her silverware.

“So, Y/N. How is your father doing?”

“Nesta.” Rhysand warns.

“No, I want to know. Because he puts everyone through so much shit just so he can keep living the high life. So tell me, how is ‘Daddy Dearest’?”

I choke on my water slightly while I’m desperately trying to come up with an answer. “I’m not quite sure what you are referring to. My father is well respected in my Court.”

She scoffs. “He is, is he? You don’t even know what happened, do you? What he did to Mor?” Everyone is staring at me now and I have no idea how to respond. I’ve heard that my father and Mor were in a relationship when they were very young, but nothing more. I glance over at Nyx to try and catch his eye, but he’s looking down at his plate.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t been told much of my father’s past.”

I feel a brush of something swimming up my leg, my side, then wrapping around my throat and I suddenly can’t breathe. Azriel stares at me with so much hatred in his eyes, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner.

“All you Vanserra’s ever do is lie. You know exactly what your father did. Your father hurt Mor, left her for dead, you and your brother are the exact same as him, evil. Why did Nyx have a black eye the other day? Did you honestly think we wouldn’t find out?” Nesta stands up from her seat.

Tears are streaming down my cheeks as my hands grab at my throat, desperate for air. My vision starts to get blurry and then Azriel releases his shadows. I gasp for air and quickly stand up. “Can you excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.” I run off crying.

Splashing cold water on my face does absolutely nothing for me. I slowly sink to the floor to sob and sob and sob. No one comes to check on me. No one believes me. Not even Nyx. Why hasn’t he said anything? Done anything? He knows that I wasn’t the one who hurt him, yet he stays silent.

Gods. I feel like the world's biggest idiot. I thought Nyx and I were getting along. He promised nothing bad would happen. I should have known better.

I notice a rather large window that I can easily fit through. So that’s exactly what I do, and then I’m running. I have no idea where I am, but I know where I need to go. Home.

I’m passing through some sort of market and nearly run into someone. I take a second to catch my breath. “Excuse me, sir. Could you please tell me how to get to the Autumn Court?”

The male points me in the direction I need and then I’m off again.

“Y/N!” I stop. I’ve been running through this forest alone for over 3 hours, who is calling out for me? “Y/N! It’s me!”

My brother. He runs right up to me and pulls me in for a hug. “What the fuck are you doing?!!” And that’s all it takes for me to break down again.

“I can’t do it anymore! I don’t care what alliance this marriage brings to father. I can’t be married to him, I just can't!”

“Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. Take a deep breath.” He rubs a comforting hand up my back. “I’ll take you back home, okay?” I feel a slight gust of wind and look up to see that I’m in the home I share with Nyx.

“No! Why did you bring me back here? I can’t stay here! I need to go home, back to Autumn!” I start to panic.

“You can’t go back to Autumn. Father will find out and everything will only get worse.” He lightly pushes me down so I sit on the couch and then brings me a glass of water. “I need you to stay here. I will be back to check on you, but you must stay here.”

“I will, thank you.” I’m too tired to argue. Now I’m alone, again. I know Nyx will come home eventually, but I can’t even think about that right now, I just need to go to sleep. I triple check that the doors are locked, then grab every knife from the kitchen and barricade myself in the bedroom.

I wake up to the sound of pounding on the bedroom door. “Y/N! Y/N I know that you’re in there. Please, just come out and talk to me.”

“Go away!” The banging stops and then he’s standing in front of me. “What the fuck? You can’t just winnow in here?” He kneels down on the floor as I sit up.

“Please. I just need to talk with you.”

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about. You left me there! You left me there while he was choking me! I trusted you! What happened to ‘we leave whenever I wanted’? What about your promise that nothing bad would happen? Was that a lie too?” I take a deep breath and continue.

“Was everything a lie? Everything you said? How you were sorry, that you wanted to start over and your feelings for me? Everything was a lie!”

“What? No! No, I didn't lie about any of that!”

“Then why didn’t you help me? You sat there and watched me get choked and then never bothered to check on me.”

“I wanted to! But they wouldn’t let me. The minute you left, uncle Az pinned me to the chair with his shadows. I couldn’t get to you.”

Is he lying to me right now? “From the second we walked into that house, you acted like I didn’t exist! Why?”

“Because I was scared.”

“Scared? What could you possibly be scared of?”

“I was scared that my family would find out.”

“FIND OUT WHAT?!?” If he doesn’t get to the fucking point-

“THAT I LOVE YOU!”

“You- you what?”

“I love you. I have for a while, but I thought that you hated me. I figured the only way to be with you was to have an arrangement made, so I asked my dad to-“

He looks at me with wide eyes, he's said too much.

“You asked your dad to do what?” I ask slowly, scared for his answer. He takes in a deep sigh.

“I asked him to ask your dad about arranging a marriage between us. He’s the only one who knows, not even your father. I- I’m sorry. I should have told you.” I take a step back, this can’t be happening. “Y/N, please. Let me explain.”

“No.”

“Please. I understand that I-“

“Nyx. I don’t want you to explain. Just give me an answer to my question. Just one.”

“Anything, I’ll tell you anything.” He’s begging now.

“Do you love me?”

“W-what?”

“Do you love me? Truly love me?”

“Yes! Yes, I love you!” He stands up and faces me. I can’t explain it, but I believe him. Maybe all that running I just did is messing with my head. Him asking his father to arrange our marriage is fucked up and I hate him for it, but I love him too.

“Then kiss me.”

He hesitates for a second and then slowly moves closer to me, giving me enough time to change my mind. Then finally, he places a hand under my chin, closes the distance and he softly places his lips on mine.

His lips are so soft, so gentle, like he’s afraid I’m going to break. My hands find their way to his hair as the kiss deepens. I trail my tongue across his bottom lip causing him to moan and move his hands to my hips.

We break for air and just stare at each other. Our foreheads pressed together, breath mixing between us, eyes searching the others. “I love you, too.” I realize I never said it out loud and based on his reaction, he wasn’t expecting me to. “I don’t want to start over. I just want to keep moving forward.”

“That sounds perfect.” He caresses my cheek with his thumb and gives my forehead a kiss. “Would you like to go to bed?” I nod as my response and he lets me go to pull back the covers. I get in first while he gets undressed.

There is so much we still have to work out. So many difficult conversations we have to have. But as I lay here with my head on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat, I can’t help but smile. I’m looking forward to those conversations. Looking forward to finding out as much as I can about Nyx. Regardless of what his family thinks of me or what mine thinks of him. We’re going to be happy, and to me, that’s all that matters.

[cooloddball]

JIB9 (JIBCON, 2018) ANYALYSIS-PART 1

I never know how to begin these things so let’s just dive in.

Jensen and Misha enter the stage as Alex is leaving. Jensen commends Alex and Misha whistles and Jensen says don’t hurt my ears or something. And so it begin. Misha says he regretted it [whistling] immediately.

 I’m hard of hearing you know why because I whistled. This joke didn’t land Misha. Sorry.

Jensen says “Hey” like he wants to say something to the audience but Misha does this weird thing where he runs his index finger down his nose and touches his chin.

I think this was Misha trying to communicate his disappointment that Jensen didn’t get the joke. He wanted him to get the joke. Misha e tries to find his seat so he could sit but Jensen catches on that Misha needs him so he says, “Hey what? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” Aww :)

Misha leans his ear closer to Jensen and says, and Jensen leans even closer and they have this back and forth banter about not hearing what the other is saying.

To mention something personal, I am usually very uncomfortable when people lean into me, I like my personal space unless it’s someone I’m really close to and even then not always will be with them getting up close and personal.. They seem okay with it so good for them I guess. Personal space who?

“I don’t understand your accent” Misha says. I don’t know if this is an inside joke because Jensen says “shut up,” playfully and they sit down.

Jensen applauds Alex and Misha whistles again and Jensen has to look away faux disappointed because they just talked about whistling. Misha!!! Stop being naughty.

Jensen even rubs his ears to show that he can’t hear properly. LOL.

That’s like super loud dude.

 I actually find it really weird when Misha and Jensen call each other dude. It sounds unnatural because Jensen often calls other men-pal, bud, or man and Misha usually uses people’s names or says my friend so and so. So maybe this is what they call each other? I know when I talk to my bf or my friends I call them dude (gn) especially when I’m shocked about something. So, it’s not a biggie. Just noting this because they do this a lot with each other.

Misha does this super cute shoulder shrug with the biggest grin on his face. How can a grown ass man be that adorable. I don’t know how he does it but well he did it and it’s adorable. No wonder Jensen wants to put him in his pocket and take him home.

“I’m compensating.” And he looks at Jensen with this shit eating grin on his face as if challenging him and it’s like Jensen looks like he can’t breathe for a second it was literally three seconds.

 “[compensating] For a lot of things that’s wow.” Jensen says. Misha keeps grinning. Of course Jensen would know what Misha is compensating for wouldn’t he?

 Should we talk about Alex?” Jensen asks looking at Misha.

Loudly “Yeah.”

“No I don’t think so.”

What did you ask how was the pantheon? 

Jesus I love their madness. They play off each other so well.

They say they are working on teaching alex to talk about inappropriate things.  Side note: It’s funny though because Alex looks like their love child. He looks like Misha, and to some extent Jensen, his hair, sense of style and even the way he carries himself is all Jensen. So weird. What if –What if---nvm.

Jensen mentions he remembers his first season of spn. Misha looks at Jensen and says no you don’t [remember] and Jensen agrees that he doesn’t. Yes finish each other’s sentences why don’t you? He says he doesn’t remember that far back and Misha has this far away look as if he is trying to remember something and starts laughing and Jensen has this smirk on his face. IDK what is going on but these are moments I wish I could read minds.

The way Jensen is looking at Misha though.

So Misha mentions how Jared pranked Alex during the tattoo scene of s13x02. The moment Misha mentions Jared, Jensen stops smiling.

Knowing what we know now about the fallout I want to mention something. When Misha talks about Jared and his prank on Alex Jensen doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about that. Hmm and he circles back to talk about Alex then he calls Jared a toddler? But Misha makes it sound like Jensen was referring to Alex by saying easy prey . 

Misha shows the face Alex makes when they are on set together because of the pranks and the jokes.

Jensen adds, “Do you know how many times I’ve seen you do that?”+  Jensen is so excited. I mean anyone who says this is PR then they are crazy. You can’t fake emotions like that no matter how good of an actor you are.

‘The way Jensen calls Misha ‘this one’ It sounds so couply. Like when one half of a couple says, “this one is always a crying mess when we watch the notebook” or something akin to that. Any that’s just how I interpreted it, I could be wrong.

And this is how Misha is looking at Jensen when he says “this one”

That moment when Misha touches the back of Jensen’s neck and Jensen touches his thigh and they think it’s too gay because because Jensen acts like he just touched dirt and Misha brushes off his thigh and smells it. Now that’s acting.

Jensen checks Misha out (he specifically looks at Misha’s arms) and then asks “how’re you doing bud?”

Misha says good and that cringe moment about clothes sharing starts and oh I can’t look…okay I had to look  because cringe. But the way Jensen is looking at Misha is giving me the courage to and also I had to for the sake of this analysis I had to look.

“This morning Jensen was like, ‘hey, here’s that shirt you wanna borrow that shirt to wear to the convention today and I was like ‘no dude I’m not wearing your shirt to the convention to the convention’ and he’s [Jensen] like don’t worry it still has tags on it it’s fine. And I’m like no thanks , I’m not gonna wear your fucking shirt to the convention. And then at lunch I spilled salad dressing all over my shirt like sweet so thanks for the shirt.”

The whole time Misha is telling the story he’s not looking at Jensen he’s looking at the crowd. Jensen on the other hand is checking Misha out while biting his bottom lip. There’s a lot to unpack here.

Jensen:  ‘I knew. Umm..”

Misha:  “You are like Misha didn’t bring his bib today so…”

Jensen:  “He didn’t bring his bib? We are probably having you know some pretty----no I was literally have a shirt that I brought that…cause I try to wear something new for every time there are pictures being taken of me just cause that’s the culture we live in now…”

Interrupting moose enters.

*I will do a comprehensive analysis on the clothes sharing confessions, lies and half truths in another post. Boy (gn) do I have tea.”

I think when Jared is giving Jensen the balloons Jensen asks him if Daniela or someone else sent him to join them but I think he came of his own volition.

Jared is asking Jensen to untie a balloon for him but Jensen doesn’t look too thrilled

Misha must’ve noticed the tension between those two so he asks, “how good a knot did you tie?” 

Jensen’s like, “You know what? I tie a knot that a professional knows how to tie.” Okay kinky, tell us more about knots Jensen. (Sorry for this but knowing the A/B/O or rather the Omegaverse was started because of Jensen and now he’s  talking about tying a knot and…you know what nvm)

Misha pretends that what Jensen is saying is sus so he and Jared have a back and forth wondering what Jensen is talking about as Jensen unties the balloons. Yeah sure Misha like he hasn’t tied …you know what? This is getting uncomfortable even for me. Can we move on?

But Jensen won’t let me move on because he’s like, “seriously that’s how you tie a knot.” Of course you’d know sir

Jared adds, “Or it’s not” can someone shut this man up, please.

Jensen doesn’t like his friend’s joke and he has something to say about it,  “Did he have to join us?” Was this a joke? Was it serious? Who knows but recent events seem to suggest that he might’ve been serious but made it look like a joke.

Jared asks for one balloon and Misha tries to reach for one but Jensen keeps pulling them away so Misha can’t reach. This is so playful and adorable. Misha snags one finally then gives it to Jared. One flies away and he tries to reach for it but he’s not tall enough. 

“Do you want some help?”  Jared asks and laughs then Misha gives him the finger. 

Jensen gets grumpy after Daniela brings Misha a colourless balloon so he hits it with his microphone then he hits his and  sits on it and pops it. Fuck that was hot for some weird reason. I could watch him pop balloons all day.

Misha and Jared’s reaction when Jensen sits on the balloon.

Misha tries Miserably to pop his, Jared can’t look, Jensen is still grumpy but the more Misha struggles the happier Jensen gets and he even manages a smile.

This was hilarious though. Their face journeys.

Jared brings a watermelon and gives it to Misha but Jensen slaps it out of his hands and shows he doesn’t want him to do it from the way he’s waving his hand.

The only thing Jensen wants Misha to wrap his legs around is his waist, or his neck or shoulders or whatever. I don’t know which method of wrestling they prefer, I’m not a professional wrestler I mean I’ve watched WWE a few times but-

Jensen seems happy, I don’t know what Misha says to him before he sits but Jensen seems okay until…

Jared hands Misha the pink balloon holder and says, “You gonna want this for later,” 

Misha doesn’t look too happy about it either but he’s always a good sport. Poor guy, so he plays a long and looks at the holder which interestingly is pink and phallic. I know Jared was joking and yeah the joke wasn’t that funny but Jensen is super pissed because he asks, “Is he?” looking at the balloon holder.

Jesus Jensen wtf? But I honestly understand him, I mean why would Misha need that weird cheap plastic thing when there was the real thing waiting someone in a pair of Levis.

Jensen says, “well… some parts of this”  I can’t quite make out what he says.

Misha tries to make it a light moment by saying it looks like something horrible happened and that gets Jensen to laugh and then Misha bends over to uh..to drop the melon and the phallic object and Jensen’s eyes shoot right down the citrusy-juicy stone fruit goodness. He catches himself looks away and then looks at the crowd while chewing on his bottom lip.

Okay sexual jokes are fun but not every time Jared. I mean c’mon, not everything is a gay sex joke. This is the one thing that sells him out as a straight dude. He makes way too many gay sex jokes it’s not even funny.

They have this weird back and forth about Jared having some notes. Argh. It’s weird. It’s like they are fighting. You see how girls fight and act like like they aren’t fighting but you can sense the seething anger in the undertones of their voices? That’s the vibe I get here. Even Misha is confused because he keeps looking between the two wondering why notes are so important of a discussion that warrants a back and forth. Or maybe it’s just me. IDK.

Misha has to jump in and save the day “He’s [Jared] is just looking through for pictures] Misha explaining to Jensen why Jared has to read the script forty times while Jensen only reads it once.  WTF is going on boys? You were doing so well before and now things seem totally awkward *cough*fallout*cough*

Jensen looks totally done like he wants to be anywhere but here, seriously look at him.

It gets so awkward so much so that Misha has to prompt a fan to ask a question. As I said earlier, no one is such a great actor to fake emotions. Jensen keeps proving my theory. Something was going on with j/2 that day and no matter how hard they tried to mask it, it came out and it wasn’t pretty. Then again, maybe it’s just me and nothing was going on.

A fan asks how they like stories to end and  before he can answer, Misha quickly glances at Jensen then goes ahead and explains how he likes the story to leave him on a cliffhanger.

Misha has barely finished talking before Jensen chimes in with a “I Do NOT!” Look at Jared’s and Misha’s faces. Something was clearly going on and I think it had something to do with the show because Jensen didn’t seem okay since Jared came on stage. He says how he wants a finality to things otherwise jerks. They were clearly talking about the show, Jensen, for a good actor you are acting really weird. It is about the show because he says, “we are just dead”  Something very weird was going on. Maybe at this time they already had had their meeting with TPTB in LA and he was told to take it or leave it and Jared and Kripke didn’t even hear him out. My poor baby, Do all the spin offs King and you should star in all of them like you deserve.

He even says that spn dying is not a finality. He looks super pissed. What did these people (Jared and tptb) do to him? They broke him. He was doing so well.

Luckily a fan asks them if they can dance so Jensen goes to the wheel and Misha gets up. I think he knows Jensen is angry and he has to try to make his man happy the best way he can. Jared is suffering from second hand embarrassment as am I. Jared can’t look, same Jared this is so cringe. But Jensen can’t help himself, as he is coming back from spinning the wheel he checks out Misha’s citrusy-juicy goodness again 🍑

Misha please stop. I love you but this is embarrassing. Okay so let me look at Jensen instead. He looks like those gentlemen waiting for the debutantes at a debutante ball because of the way he’s standing looking at Misha dance. Subtle sir. Very subtle. I mean if my friend was dancing like that I’d be laughing at them not watching longingly. Just saying, but that’s just me.

The way Misha looks at Jensen and starts rolling his hips. Sirs, can you not do your mating dance in public? There are children in the audience. 

Even the way Jensen cues in the music so he can dance looks like he’s in the Victorian era asking the music master to play the song he asked to be cued in so he could dance with his sweetheart or something. Am I going crazy? I’m going crazy.

The whole dancing scene was just cringe.

Mish explaining what Castiel does when the boys go to sleep 

Hold on, when Jensen asks what Castiel does when the Sam and Dean are asleep in their respective bedrooms, he made sure to emphasize respective bedrooms and we all know the reason why. Stay speaking facts king.

Anyway, when he asks Misha to demonstrate for us what Cas does, did he expect that Cas stands there peeping into Dean’s room and wanks or what did he expect? Honestly I’m just curious, what did he want Misha to demonstrate exactly.

Then he gets up to demonstrate it himself . 

When Misha says that the episode will be called ‘I’ll just wait here ten” Jensen unicorn laughs and when he realizes he was laughing to hard at Misha’s joke he says, ”I don’t get it.” Yeah sure Jensen it was clear from how hard you laughing to the point where we could see your tonsils that you didn’t get it. Good one. Misha maintains a serious face and even shakes his head.

A fan asks Misha what Castiel would have in his room. Misha says just a bunch of catnip. I don’t know what is so funny again that it warrants Jensen to hide his face because he’s trying not to laugh too hard. Does the word catnip or Cas being a cat mean something to you? Is it because Misha is cute like a kitten? Do love to rub his tum and hear him purr? Does he rub his nose along your beard like a cat would? What is so funny?

Then Jensen adds, “and kitty litter.” So adorable. I want in on the inside joke.

Misha says that he would have a poster of a cat hanging from a tree that says, “Hey it’s Monday” and Jensen laughs so hard. Then Jensen makes sure to add, “he has that poster in his trailer.” How do you know?

Why are these two dorks so happy about the mention of AU Cas? 

Then the way Jensen is excited about asking Misha for a demonstration of AU Cas 

 WTF am I watching? Help. But the eye fuck and the way the laugh.

Look how hard Jensen is laughing when Misha says what went through his head is that “they met at a club.” Pray for Jensen. He needs help. Serious help because no one is ever that funny all the time Jensen.

You can see how Jensen’s mood changed after Jared said that is the best acting he has ever seen Misha do. Jared seriously read the room. That part of the video has been discussed before so I won’t get into that.

The way Jensen’s eyes widen when Jared says Misha really wants to answer the who is your rock question. It is subtle but it happens. He also raises his eyebrows  as if to say “really? leave my husband alone.”

Okay did Jared expect Misha to say Jensen was his rock or??

Jensen is acting weird through Misha’s answer. He’s mostly stoic, like he’s holding his breath? Can I also mention how handsome Misha looks? But I like Misha’s answer and it’s so beautiful that he married his best friend. Everyone who wants to get married should marry their best friend. What do I know though? Marriage is a foreign concept to me.

Jensen asks how many mothers there are in the audience.

Jared carries on with “how many of us have mothers?

Misha: That’s quite an impressive turn out. So many people didn’t raise their hands.

“They are like no I was genetically engineered in a lab.” Okay hear me out. Jensen knows what you know who believe that  his kids and Jared’s kids were made in a lab because they couldn’t stand to copulate with their wives because of how much they hate them because Jared is his on true love. If you didn’t know this I’m sorry to divulge this disgusting piece of information to you but you can’t unsee it now so you are welcome. I swear I think this was a jab at them, no one can convince me otherwise.

Even Jared and Misha’s reaction to that is pretty telling. Then Jensen adds “And some of you probably were” I think he means those soulless fans who send their wives and kids threats and also hate on Misha every chance they get. Go off king.

He talks about how his wife is also his rock aww Jensen

Remember how Jensen was being weird during Misha’s answer? Misha is being weird as well, mostly stoic and looking at a fixed spot on the ground. I want to know what was so interesting.

Oh that micro expression from Jared, his right eye widens the moment Jensen says “I have some amazing pebbles in my life.” Did he think Jensen was going to out himself? He was like oh shit oh sit it’s happening.

The glee on Misha’s face when when Jensen calls him a pebble aww Jensen.

I know what I’m about to say is controversial but I think that by pebbles Jensen meant Misha. It doesn’t make sense that he was comparing his wife and his friends. The only person he would relate his wife to is his husband. I know this sounds crazy and people will definitely not be happy about this but that’s my opinion.I I know he loves Jared and he is his bro for life  so if he was referring to them both wouldn’t he have pointed to them both?

Jared talks about how sometimes he doesn’t want to burden the people he really loves with what’s on his mind all the time and Jensen points to himself in a very aggressive way. Jesus Jensen way to be subtle. Fuck. Also Jensen nods vigorously when Jared says look for your pebbles because sometimes pebbles are what you need to get back to your rock.

It’s time to sing a hbd song and when Misha asks Jared “did you volunteer for this?” That’s when Jensen places his hand on Misha’s knee and says “I got it” He’s like, babe seriously? You are gonna ask Jared to sing when you know I got the voice for it? Seriously? I’m right here babe. I sing to you every night and you gonna do me like this? I got this and you are mine.

He caresses that leg and gets very comfortable on it, draping his arm from the elbow down on it. Possessive much? It’s clearly not the first time he has parched on that leg. The hand was on that leg for 1 minute and 15 seconds. Yes, I counted.

The intimate way in which Jensen and Misha they are seated is so awkward that Jared scoots away from them.

 Damn, son. Jensen’s vocals are out of this world. So good.

Jesus Jared “Deeper, deeper feel it” Is that what they were screaming through the hotel walls last night? Tell us more.

Misha is so uncomfortable and Jensen is so done.

So overall this part was basically cockles being cockles, Jensen being possessive of Misha, Jared being Jared, Jensen being done, the girls are fighting and Misha is the referee. 

That’s the end of part 1.

Part 2

[senacal]

hi hi hi i LOOOOOVE your erik stuff and i hope u don’t mind me requesting and requesting because i think you’re an amazing writer! i was hoping to see a erik x female reader fluff:) i’ve always wanted to read a jealous erik fic when he has a crush on the reader ya know! i’ve always pictured her to be a mutant professor at school and all:)

Exceptional

Request:  By malfoys-demigod

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x Fem Reader

Prompt: hi hi hi I LOOOOOVE your Erik stuff and I hope u don’t mind me requesting and requesting because I think you’re an amazing writer! I was hoping to see an Erik x female reader fluff:) I’ve always wanted to read a jealous Erik fic when he has a crush on the reader ya know! I’ve always pictured her to be a mutant professor at school and all:)

Warnings: Is jealousy really a warning? IDK but jealousy

Author’s Note: I won’t mind you requesting lol, I love getting requests 😊  Thank you so much for enjoying my writing 💖 Again, I am so sorry for how long this took for me to write 😬 

Erik always prided himself on how well he was able to control his feelings. Sure, he used to let them control him; however, he always hid them well. One look at him, and no one could tell how he was truly feeling. The only people able to read his feelings were empaths, or Charles (but Charles used his telepathy, so that was cheating). 

When Erik had met (Y/N), he wasn’t sure what to expect. At first, he thought of her as any other person, irrelevant. He didn’t know her, so why should he care for her? But then she was always there. He later found out that Charles had employed her at his school for the gifted. It was with a great obligation that made him get to know her. Charles liked to hold dinner parties for the staff and his friends to mingle outside of school hours. Erik would always try to get out of it, but, he always manages to get roped into those engagements no matter what he said or lied about. It was as though Charles would use his powers to get Erik to attend. It tempted him to use his helmet again to block him out, but maybe he’s just overthinking it. 

It was at one of these events that Erik first spoke to (Y/N). She was standing near the refreshments, so really, it wasn’t like it was completely out of his way to talk to her. She had smiled kindly at him, the first person to do so. It was no secret that he had a troubled past and many of the professors employed under Charles never seemed to let him forget. So it was refreshing to know that someone wasn’t holding his faults over him. He was immediately enthralled by her. They spoke nearly the whole night. He found himself enjoying the sound of her laugh and the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about the things she was passionate about. Erik never believed in love at first sight, and really he didn’t think this applied either, but he knew from that moment on, he would make it his duty to keep the smile in her eyes and that laugh in place. 

From then on, Erik didn’t argue with Charles over attending the dinner parties, and he didn’t bother making excuses when (Y/N) needed his help with her class. Whatever she wanted, he made sure she would get without any troubles. They soon became best friends within no time. He was fine with that too because then he knew he would always be in her life. He was the one she went to when she had a problem,  and the one she went to when she had good news. Life was suddenly going his way and he had no fucking clue what to do from there. He supposed he could continue like normal, talk to her, laugh with her, but there was a part of him that wanted more. She was an amazing girl. Who wouldn’t want to be with her?

Which was the problem. He knew there were people interested in her, he wasn’t completely oblivious. He would usually spot them from the distance whenever he wasn’t with her. There would be another professor talking to her, trying to get her to laugh at some stupid joke he made. Erik would clench his jaw, and he swore one of the metal benches was crushed near him. He couldn’t be too sure that was him though. He brushed it off at the time as a fluke. There was no way she’d fall for that cheap trick. So the next day when it happened again, Erik couldn’t help but insert himself between (Y/N) and the other guy. 

(Y/N) instantly lit up in his presence. Erik was a great guy and anyone who didn’t see that was an absolute idiot. Getting to know Erik was her favorite thing to do. Being a part of the school gave her insight into his past, sure, but that didn’t mean she knew who Erik actually was. If growing up in a half mutant, half-human family taught her anything, it was that people can change. She found out that her mother was taught to hate mutants but then she met her father. So no, (Y/N) wasn’t going to let Erik’s past block her judgment. Erik turned out to be the most genuine man she has had the pleasure to meet. Sometimes he would show off his powers to her, so she would talk him into demonstrating for her classes. She always looked forward to the days he would help her with the younger mutants. 

Sometimes she could swear that Erik might like her back, but who was she kidding? She wasn’t anything spectacular. Her powers weren’t anything extraordinary compared to her co-workers, her powers were rather boring. (Y/N) used to enjoy the fact that her powers were quite mundane, she could easily manipulate a person’s choice, but it would only last a moment. Now she wished she had a power that was worthy of Erik. She knew he had a hatred towards humans at one point, so she was nervous that maybe he would be appalled about her half-human family. 

(Y/N)’s thoughts were once again interrupted when she felt someone touching her arm. She looked up to see Professor Cassidy smiling at her. He had a boyish charm to him and she knew that he liked her, but she didn’t feel the same way. She was finding it harder to let him down gently. 

“So? What do you say?” He asked nervously.

“Uh, about?” (Y/N) furrowed her brows. 

“A date? With me?” Sean ran his hand through his hair nervously. This was not turning out how he imagined. For one, Erik wasn’t there glaring at him when he imagined asking (Y/N) on a date. 

“I…” (Y/N) glanced from Erik’s stone expression and back to Sean’s nervous smile, “I uh, I have plans, I’m sorry Sean.” (Y/N) lied, “Erik promised to help me with uh, a thing,” She winced internally at her crappy excuse.

Erik smirked, happy to hear her turn Sean down. Sure, Sean wasn’t a bad guy, but he’d be damned if he started dating (Y/N). She was too good for him, She was too good for anyone.

“Oh, uh, okay, no worries,” Sean looked back at Erik one last time before leaving the two mutants alone.

“So I’m helping you with a thing?” Erik asked smugly.

“Oh shut up, I panicked, okay?” (Y/N) bumped her shoulder against his side, “He’s a nice guy, but I only think of him as a friend.”

“Ouch, even that hurts me,” he laughed despite his words.

“Hmm, so what brings you by?” (Y/N) wondered.

“What do you mean?” Erik avoided her gaze. 

“I think you know,” She raised her brow, she was tempted to ‘persuade’ him to tell her the truth, but Charles made a rule not to use their powers against anyone’s will unless absolutely necessary. 

“Nothing, I just saw you over here and thought I’d say hello,” He shrugged. 

“Okay… now that you’ve said hello, what now?” (Y/N) leaned against the wall beside her.

“Maybe we could do a thing?” Erik smiled.

“Haha, very funny,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. She may have liked Erik but she didn’t appreciate being teased.

“I’m serious,” Erik lifted her chin so their eyes could meet, “Let’s do something together.”

(Y/N) stared into his eyes, looking for any hints of insincerity, “Like what?”

Erik shrugged, “anything you’d like.”

“As friends?” 

“Well I- I was hoping maybe as more than friends?” Erik cleared his throat. He hasn’t felt this nervous in… ever. He has never felt nervous like this before.

“Okay,” (Y/N) grinned, “But don’t tell Sean just yet.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed, “Why not?”

“I just turned him down, I don’t think he’d be too pleased to hear that I’ve agreed to go out with you,” (Y/N) tucked a strand of her (H/C) behind her ear.

“So?” Erik couldn’t help but scoff.

(Y/N) tilted her head, looking at him quizically. “You were jealous,” She laughed.

“What? No, I wasn’t! I was the opposite of jealous. Why would I be-” Erik looked at the amusement clearly written in her eyes, “Don’t tell anyone.” He begged.

“Only if you don’t say anything to Sean, at least not yet.” (Y/N) bribed.

Erik sighed heavily, “Fine.”

“Awe, such a romantic,” (Y/N) laughed. She kissed Erik’s cheek softly, “Now about that thing we’ll be doing?” 

Erik’s heart fluttered in his chest. This was all new to him, but as long as (Y/N) was by his side, he would do whatever he could to keep her happy. It was also nice knowing no other guy would be able to take her out on a date now that she agreed to be with him.

[cinnaminsvga]

Undercover (M)

→ summary: the company banquets that your family loves to host are often drearier than you would like them to be. lucky for you, your bodyguards have the perfect solution: why don’t you play a little game with them? 

the only rule? you must keep quiet at all costs.

→ pairing: vamp!jungkook x reader x siren!seokjin → genre: bodyguard!au, supernatural, smut → warnings: dom!jin, switch!kook, sub!reader, remote vibrator, rough public sex, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, blood-drinking, hypnotization, jin is kinda sadistic, basically pwp ;_; → words: 5.4K → a/n: this is for the holiday fic exchange that was held on @btsghostiewritersnet!! my fic is dedicated to ms @jincherie​ (aka the loml and also the recipient of 1/3 of the fics i’ve written this year??) who requested this prompt. i’m not really good with poly or smut fics, but i tried my best??? it ended up being a lil more jk centric than i anticipated but HHHH IDK I JUST HOPE YOU LIKE THIS EVEN A TEENY BIT ;o; anyway... happy holidays everyone!!

You can feel their eyes on you.

Except that isn’t much of a revelation—they are always watchful of you, after all. Your father pays a hefty enough salary that they would risk their lives to keep you safe, so it isn’t much of a surprise to know that they are lurking at the sides, keeping distant and close all at once.

This time, however, is different. You know for a fact that it is different. There is a subtle shift in the air, something tangible enough that you can almost touch it, taste it. You know that if you glance back at them, you will find two pairs of eyes, watching and waiting for… something.

That fact alone is enough to keep the goosebumps on your arms from subsiding. You feel like a canister just waiting to burst, a small disturbance enough to get you to erupt into flames and burn every last inch of propriety left in your being. Tonight, they are here to ruin you.

“Why are you acting so damn fidgety? Stand still,” your brother huffs after a while, pinching you lightly in the side. It breaks you from your reverie, causing you to jolt away with wide eyes.

“W-what?” you ask breathlessly. You wipe your clammy hands across your expensive dress, leaving wrinkles in their wake. “Sorry. I just… had a lot of coffee before coming here, is all. I needed the wake-me-up.”

He watches you for a moment, raising an eyebrow at your odd behavior. You can tell that he’s suspicious, but he inevitably shrugs it off, too unbothered to care. Like you, it takes a whole deal to get Yoongi excited about anything, and having a jumpy sister is far from reaching his quota. “Whatever. Just don’t cause a scene, alright? These events might be boring as hell, but dad has a bunch of important people here tonight, so you better get your shit together.”

You snort. “Right. Like when does he not invite important people to these parties?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Just behave, alright? I’m not covering for you if you piss someone off.”

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of asking,” you mutter. Little does he know, you are already planning on behaving tonight, anyway. That is the name of the game, after all.

On a makeshift stage at the head of the ballroom, your father has just finished giving his opening remarks, thanking all his esteemed guests for making it to tonight’s banquet. Polite applause follows soon after, the clamor loud enough to mask the way you inhale sharply in surprise. Your back straightens imperceptibly, your body going rigid as if you had been struck by lightning. To your left, your brother is none the wiser to your panic, his attention glued to his phone.

When the clapping breaks, you nearly speak your prayers aloud when the ambush on your senses suddenly stops as well. You take one, two calming breaths, your core throbbing needily as you await the second wave to hit. Disappointed when nothing comes, you smooth your dress down, fighting the urge to look around to see if anyone was watching.

Legs slightly weaker and breath a little shakier, you walk among the throngs of people as they make their way to their seats, getting ready for dinner to be served. Instead of heading to where your family’s table would be located, you change direction halfway and walk towards the back. Yoongi does not comment, just nodding back at you and going the other way as well. This is normal etiquette for both of you, anyway—your father has always expected the two of you to wander during these parties, greeting guests and socializing with them as proper hosts should.

Except that isn’t on your agenda for tonight. Right now, you have a game to play, and you don’t intend on losing your focus to anything else.

It does not take you long to find who you are looking for. Just like he promised, Jungkook is standing close to the east entrance, standing stock still against the wall in his designer black suit. When he notices you approach, his stern demeanor softens, a small smile gracing his Adonis-like features. It is nothing more than a quirk of his lips, but it is enough for a flash of something sharp to catch your eye. It disappears before you can even blink, but you know that what you had seen is far from a figment of your imagination.

To an outsider, Jungkook looks as intimidating as any regular bodyguard should be: tall and muscular, coupled with a dangerous gaze that could pierce diamond. He certainly works like one too, as your father would have never hired him if he wasn’t 100% sure that Jungkook was up to his lofty standards.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is something else that sets Jungkook apart if you just looked close enough. Even from a few feet apart, you can see the redness lining his irises, the deathly pallor of his skin, the sallowness of his cheeks. As you get closer, you notice other things too, like how his hands tremble against his sides and how his breathing has gotten shallow.

Everything about him screams vampire—a starving one, at that.

“How long has it been now?” you murmur, gently nudging your shoulder against his. You keep close to him, feeling yourself relax at the mere scent of him. Jungkook always somehow manages to smell good; you suppose that’s a given since you don’t think he’s even capable of sweating.

“Since the party started?” he asks.

“No, silly. How long has it been since you last fed?”

“Three days, seventeen hours, and twenty-one minutes, ma’am. But who’s counting?” he wheezes, offering you a strained smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really, but I know you,” you reply. A little too well, in fact. “Seokjin hasn’t even allowed you a snack? Even once?”

Jungkook coughs out a laugh, amused. “You and I both know that hyung wouldn’t be that merciful. He did say that if I behave today, then maybe…” he trails off. You don’t miss the way he stares longingly at you, thinly veiled desire rolling off him in waves.

You feel the blood rushing up to your face, turning away from him in embarrassment. You have to remind yourself not to rub your neck, lest the make-up covering your fading scar give away your dirty little secret. “I’m sorry, by the way. I kind of did this to both of us, huh?”

Jungkook chuckles, snaking an arm around your waist. You shoot him a warning glare, but you both know he only dares to get comfortable with you when he’s sure no one is watching. Besides, it’s always been hard for you to get mad at the boy, not when he has always been so sweet with you.

“No, it’s fine. We all agreed to this when you proposed it. Besides, neither hyung nor I are going to risk our health when your safety is on the line. It’s not that bad, I promise.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, glancing at him doubtfully. You have never seen Jungkook quite so… unhinged before, as if he’s just a step away from teetering off the edge. It scares you just as much as it arouses you, but you make sure to keep that to yourself. “I honestly didn’t think Seokjin would be this ruthless.”

Jungkook snorts. “I’ve known him for a long time, Y/N. Trust me when I say that he is definitely going easy on us, especially you.”

“If this is easy, I’m afraid to know how he’s like when he goes all out then,” you say, but the thought of Seokjin becoming even more merciless than usual sends an excited shiver down your spine.

“How about you?” Jungkook asks. “Are you doing okay with the, um, you know?” He flushes, still shy to even say it aloud even after all the things the two of you have done together.

You giggle, unable to resist the urge to tease him. “You tell me, Koo. You can smell me, can’t you?” You lean closer, looking at him through your lashes. “You could probably smell from across the ballroom, especially with how hungry you are… My poor baby,” you coo. You have your chest pressed against his, your low neckline leaving nothing to the imagination. And yet, his gaze is fixed elsewhere, red eyes following the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

It’s a rhetorical question; you know he can smell you. The remote vibrator in your underwear has been on the lowest setting ever since the night started. The vibrations are persistent enough to keep you constantly aroused, but it’s never enough to give you what you really want.

And just when you think you’ve gotten used to the sensation, Seokjin will spike it up occasionally, causing your composure to crack ever so slightly. You’re pretty sure he hasn’t turned it on to the highest setting yet, but judging from how the dampness of your underwear has seeped past your thighs, you aren’t sure if you’d be able to keep your cool if he did.

“Do I smell good, Koo? I know you said my blood tastes sweetest when I’m like this, right?” you whisper, trailing a finger down his chest. He does not reply, his nostrils flaring as he struggles to control his breathing. He has a dangerous edge in his expression, a simmering darkness just begging to be released. It’s the kind of lust that sweet and lovely Jungkook hardly ever has the capability of showcasing, except during moments like these, when he is at his hungriest and most desperate.

“I’m not going to lose the game this early on,” he says, voice quiet. There is danger in still waters, you recall your mother telling you when you were younger, and you find that there is truth behind her words after all. Jungkook may sound calm, but the edge in his tone is laced with meaning.

“No fun,” you laugh.

As if on cue, your own dose of karma hits you when Seokjin decides to turn the vibrator up to its maximum setting. “Shit,” you gasp, barely holding back your moans. You nearly double over, mostly from shock, not expecting the intensity of the vibrations. You feel your legs turn to jelly, your body heating up and breaking out into a sweat. You have to lean against Jungkook for support, your grip on his biceps so tight that you’re afraid that you might have torn through the fabric. If he had been human, you might have worried that you were hurting him.

Jungkook stumbles slightly against your weight, surprising the both of you as he’s normally as sturdy as a brick wall. Your worry for Jungkook supersedes the lust addling your brain long enough to wonder if his blood fast is starting to affect him.

“S-sorry, Koo. Are you okay? Are you getting dizzy from hunger?” you ask, your words stilted and breathy as you try to ignore the pleasure coursing through your veins. “We can go somewhere and—fuckfuckfuck—”

You are unable to finish your sentence, having to muffle your moans by biting into his shoulder. You’re shaking and panting, the relentless assault on your clit causing a fresh wave of arousal to drip down your cunt and ruin your panties even further. The coil inside of you is close to snapping, your long-awaited climax just inches away. You have half a mind to reach under your dress and chase after your high, but the sensible part of you reminds you that you are still at a public event—your father’s public event, to be exact. So instead, you wrap your arms around Jungkook to restrain yourself, looking to all the world as if you were just two lovers in an embrace.

Just as you’re about to finish, the vibrator shuts off completely, snatching away any hopes of you coming. You want to scream in frustration, a few tears threatening to fall as you squeeze your eyes tightly. Eventually, you release your death grip on Jungkook, keeping your head bowed to hide the way you’re still short for breath. When you feel less hazy, you take a shaky step away from him while muttering apologies to Jungkook.

“S-sorry about that. So much for Seokjin going easy on me, huh? I really didn’t expect him to pull a fast one on me like that—”

When Jungkook doesn’t respond, you turn back to face him. “O-oh,” you whisper lamely, your blood heating up when your gaze meets his. “Jungkook?” you call out, though you don’t think he’ll be up for much conversation right now.

You have never quite seen him like this before. His eyes have started glowing red, so much so that there’s barely a sliver of white remaining. His fangs have extended far past what should have been humanly possible, its sharp tips puncturing his bottom lip. He doesn’t even appear to be moving, not even showing any signs that he might have been breathing at all.

“Jungkook,” you repeat. You tug on his sleeve hesitantly, but he stands as still as a statue. “Jungkook, get a hold of yourself!” It takes you a few moments of coaxing and shaking before some semblance of lucidity returns to him.

He blinks a few times, but his incisors have yet to retract. “Sorry,” he grunts, bringing a hand up to his face. He rubs at his eyes, and when he reopens them, they’ve stopped glowing. His irises are still a deep shade of red. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d lose myself there. That’s never happened before.”

“You were kinda scary there for a second,” you laugh nervously. “Almost like you were going to eat me alive.”

“I honestly might have,” Jungkook admits. “If Seokjin hadn’t stopped you from coming right then, I might have just fed from you right in the open.”

You shiver. You kind of hate yourself for liking the sound of that, even if it was hypothetical. Your bodyguards wouldn’t risk your reputation like that. For a moment, it almost could have been real though, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

“You would’ve lost the game then,” you say instead.

Jungkook chuckles weakly, shaking his head. “You, Seokjin, and I already knew from the start that if anyone was going to lose, it was always going to be me.”

“Conceding defeat, then?” you ask. You press your thighs together in anticipation, catching the way he watches your movements like a predator awaiting its prey. “Is anyone watching us?”

With your back facing the party, you would never have known if anyone was close enough to hear your strangled moans back then. Ever the attentive bodyguard despite hunger and lust clouding his mind, Jungkook had still made sure that the two of you were far away enough from prying eyes. Well, with the exception of one.

“He was watching us,” Jungkook mumbles. You don’t turn to look when he points somewhere behind you. “He’s by the northwest entrance. He was watching us the whole time, but now he’s talking to your brother’s bodyguard.”

“How much do you wanna bet he won’t notice us sneaking out?” you ask, giggling when Jungkook gives you an incredulous look. “What? Didn’t you once say you could sneak me out of anywhere without my father knowing?”

“Your father and Kim Seokjin are two different people in two different leagues,” he points out. He glances at Seokjin once more, rubbing his neck nervously. “Oh, he’s definitely going to figure out what we’re doing the moment we get out of here.”

You shrug, already tugging him by the hand towards the restroom outside the ballroom. You wink at him, your giggles full of mischief. “Then it’s settled. We lose this game, and then we start another one.”

“Another one?” Jungkook echoes, following you like a dutiful pet. When you exit the ballroom, you find the reception area empty save for a few other security guards loitering by the elevators, surreptitiously on their phones. You easily make it past them and head to where the restrooms are, setting your sights on the polished wooden doors.

You push Jungkook inside the women’s restroom, locking the door once you both are settled inside. Turning to face him with an eager grin, you almost let out a laugh at the overenthusiastic gleam in his eyes. “New game plan. I call this one the ‘let’s see if we can get off before Seokjin catches us’ game.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Jungkook chuckles, but he’s already opening his arms when you walk over to him. You accept his embrace, pressing him against the marble sinks and slotting your lips together.

The kiss is fiery, all teeth and no finesse. He has one hand grabbing fistfuls of your ass and the other cupping your jaw as he holds you in place. Your own hands almost seem like they don’t know what to do, scrambling up and down his sides before finally locking around his neck as your mind goes blank.

Jungkook’s incisors cut your lips accidentally, causing droplets of blood to trickle down. They don’t even make it past your chin before Jungkook’s voracious tongue is already lapping it up, his groans echoing in the vastly large room.

You barely register the pain before Jungkook is offering another distraction in the form of his lips trailing down to your jaw until he reaches your neck, his breath leaving goosebumps across your skin. “Y/N,” he rasps, his fangs dizzyingly close.

Before he can choose to do anything, you trail a finger to his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes appear glazed over, almost as if he isn’t even fully cognizant of his surroundings. But when he catches sight of the way a fresh droplet of blood is already beginning to take form on your lips, his gaze hardens immediately.

You smirk, giggling when he groans at you licking up your bloodied lip. “No marks on my neck, baby. You’re gonna have to drink from down there.”

In any other scenario, you might have been concerned at how quickly he drops to his knees. He doesn’t look too bothered, however, as he bunches up your dress to your chest and tears your pathetic excuse for underwear into shreds. The small purple vibrator falls to the ground along with it, neither of you worried about where it is rolling away.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, burying his nose into your cunt. You yelp loudly, sensitive after hours of edging. You unconsciously try to trap him with your thighs, but he holds them apart with an iron grip. From your vantage point, you can only see his eyelashes grazing your stomach as he licks two long stripes across your slit, nearly causing you to fall over had he not been holding you.

“Shit.” He leans back to look at you properly, his mouth shiny with your slick. “Can I? Can I please?”

You don’t even know what exactly it is that he’s asking, but you’re already nodding anyway, eager for him to do something, anything. “Yes, yes, yes. C’mon, Koo. Give it to me,” you whine. Your voice sounds hoarse to your ears, desperate and delirious.

Not one to disobey, Jungkook does exactly that. One moment he is on the floor and the next he is lifting you with ease, placing you on the marble counter and standing between your legs to keep them spread. He returns to kneeling and hooks your legs onto his shoulders. He caresses your thighs with a gentleness that seems out of place, craning his neck sideways so he can plant a chaste kiss on your inner thigh.

You whimper impatiently, nudging him with your knee. “Jungkook, this is sweet and all, but my pussy has been aching to be stuffed for hours now so I’d really appreciate it if we can just get on with the pro-o-g-gram—” you stammer, your verbal skills forgotten the moment his thumb brushes your clit. Your body jerks on instinct, his delicate touch like lightning on your skin. “Ah, fuck! Jungkook, please!”

You have your head thrown back, unable to keep still when he proceeds to push a finger into you without warning. He pumps into you slowly, the drag of his fingertips torturously slow as you incoherently beg for more.

“More? You fucking asked for it,” he grunts, adding a second finger and being rewarded with another chorus of moans from you. He fucks his fingers into you like a drill, the obscene squelch of your sopping cunt coupled with the sound of palm hitting against your clit is like music to his ears. He can sense the way your blood is rushing through you right now, pleasure thrumming through your limbs and making you intoxicatingly sweet.

“I can’t wait to taste you, darling,” he says, licking his lips in anticipation. “You must love this, don’t you? Love it when I finger you like this, even though you know hyung is going to catch us and punish us for this?”

You nod fervently, incoherent babbles dribbling from your open mouth. “W-want both of you! Want S-Seokjin to catch us and make us cry.” You gasp, your stomach clenching when he curls his fingers in just the right way to make your toes curl in pleasure. “Koo, I’m a-almost there!”

Your pussy, despite hours of being constantly aroused, still feels like a vice grip, selfishly sucking him back. He relishes your moans, drawing more sounds out of you that you had not known you were capable of producing. There is no time or space for shame as your whines grow higher in pitch, calling out his name when you sense your orgasm approach.

Jungkook feels feverish when he finally takes a bite from your skin, your blood made sweeter when you climaxed from his fingers alone. The meat of your thigh gushes crimson like a fountain upon his desert-like tongue. He is drunk on you; not even nectar can be sweeter than you.

He drinks for what feels like hours, lapping at your wound until he cannot stomach another drop. A blatant lie, of course, but he also does not wish to drink you dry. So with a heavy heart, he pulls away, leaving one last lick up your thigh to stop the bleeding. He slumps back on his knees, his head lolling drowsily as he looks at you with a satisfied smile.

You are in no better condition, your chest heaving as you struggle to regain your sanity after both the mind-blowing orgasm and blood loss. Still, you smirk sleepily back at him, your eyebrow raised as if in question.

“What?” Jungkook drawls.

Instead of a verbal response, you point at his crotch with your feet. When he looks down, his dick is completely hard, his erection straining against his slacks. He was so deeply engrossed in the flavor of you that he had not even stopped to consider his own arousal, but now that it has been so kindly pointed out by you, the need to be inside of you consumes him like a fire burning him on a stake.

A guttural sound escapes his throat, a renewed fervor pushing him to climb to his feet in an instant. Impatient, he struggles for a moment to loosen his belt, has half a mind to just tear his pants in two when—

“Jeon Jungkook, can you hear me?”

Jungkook stiffens. Unable to hear the voice coming from his earpiece, you give Jungkook a quizzical look, wondering why he’d suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Koo? What’s the matter?” you ask, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Jeon Jungkook, answer me,” Seokjin’s voice is slightly garbled by static, but the authority in his tone is unmistakable.

Jungkook swallows thickly. He lifts the small microphone attached to his lapel, bringing it closer to his lips. “H-hyung?” he stutters. Your eyes widen, realization and panic seizing you.

You both share a frantic look. Fuck!

Seokjin chuckles darkly. “Took you long enough. Did you and our little mistress have fun?”

“W-well, we—” Jungkook stammers, looking to you for help. You shrug your shoulders, equally as tongue-tied. He returns to his mic, “We were just, umm…”

“Open the door,” is all Seokjin utters before Jungkook’s earpiece goes dead. Jungkook rips the small piece of plastic from his ear, both of you turning to the door when a loud knock reverberates across the restroom.

“It’s…” Jungkook cuts off, but he doesn’t need to say anything for you to know exactly who is waiting outside the door.

“Open the door,” Seokjin repeats, but there’s a certain quality to his voice that makes both you and Jungkook immediately want to follow his command. Without another word, Jungkook stands up stiffly, his feet dragging as he unlocks the door to allow him inside.

“No fair,” you complain. You pout, crossing your arms. “You used your siren voice on us!”

“I wouldn’t have needed to use it if you two weren’t acting like a pair of brats,” Seokjin says, sickly sweet. He’s smiling, but there is darkness lingering in his expression. It doesn’t help that your lower body is still exposed, free for his gaze to roam. “Do you have any idea how much trouble the two of you are in?”

“I’m sure my father is hardly concerned,” you scoff, filled with false bravado. You smirk when his eyebrows furrow, keen to tempt his anger. After all, Seokjin is the most fun to play with when he lets go. “Besides, I pay you to look out for me, don’t I? I’d expect you to come up with an excuse on our behalf.”

“I suppose so,” Seokjin hums. He glances at Jungkook, whose prior arousal has yet to subside. In a flash, Seokjin has Jungkook backed up to a toilet cabinet, roughly grabbing his bulge. Jungkook wheezes, his eyes flashing open in surprise.

“And you?” Seokjin asks, using his free hand to force Jungkook to face him. “You understand that you left your post, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook gasps out. Seokjin’s grip tightens, and Jungkook releases a soft moan.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes hyung,” Jungkook emphasizes, his hips unconsciously rutting upwards. Seokjin situates his thigh in between Jungkook’s legs, letting the younger boy rock against it for a few moments before pulling back just as quickly. Jungkook whines pathetically, jaw agape.

“You both lost the game. What makes you think you deserve anything?” Seokjin asks. He directs his question to you, glancing over his shoulder. “Well? Did I interrupt something I wasn’t supposed to see?”

When you don’t reply, Seokjin frowns. “Answer me, Y/N.”

His voice is musical, and it pulls the answer out of you, unable to resist. “Yes,” you say, through gritted teeth.

“What were you going to do?”

“He was going to fuck me,” you say. You smirk when his shoulders tense. “We were going to fuck without you.”

At your admission, Seokjin considers you with an unreadable expression. The tension in the air is tangible. Jungkook has his eyes averted, but judging from the way his cock twitches in his trousers, you know he’s also aware of what’s going to happen. All you need to do is wait a little, and then Seokjin will—

He steps away from Jungkook and walks towards the chaise lounge situated near the wall of the entrance. He sits on it primly, his back straightened as though he were about to call you in for tea. “Go on then,” he says, flapping his hands flippantly. When neither of you moves, he quirks an eyebrow in amusement. “What? Don’t let me ruin your fun. Continue where you left off.”

“Um…” you say, thoroughly at a loss. This is usually the point where Seokjin decides to punish either of you, or perhaps drag the two of you back home for more adequate disciplinary action. Instead, he seems content to allow the two of you to do as you please. He has a mask of indifference on, and it’s always been a little hard for you to figure out what he was really thinking.

“But…” Jungkook gulps. “W-we wanted you to, um…”

“What? To join you? Oh please,” Seokjin laughs, a little cruelly. “No, I’d rather not stop your fun. Carry on.”

“But—”

“Carry. On.” Seokjin commands, his power trickling onto his words. At once, Jungkook straightens up, his feet carrying him towards you and spreading your legs apart. You gasp, the sudden movement surprising you.

“Seokjin, what are you..?”

“Fuck her, Jungkook,” Seokjin interrupts, ignoring your baffled stutters. “Fuck her until she can’t even stand.”

Jungkook shoves down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, kicking them off his ankles somewhere behind him. He situates his cock against you, rubbing the tip against your slit for a second before thrusting forward and splitting you open.

You both scream and moan at the sensation, your warm walls clamped around him deliciously. He begins his brutal pace immediately, both due to his desperation to meet his orgasm and also the magic imbued in the simple command given by Seokjin.

The intoxicating roll of his hips has your eyes seeing stars as he pulls out nearly all the way before pushing back in. He angles himself until he hits your sweet spot with every thrust, ripping ragged whimpers from your throat. Your second orgasm is quickly building before you know it, your body tightening up as he continues to rut into you.

With a trembling moan, you gush around him, coating his cock with your arousal. Your legs are still shaking even after you finish, your entire body going limp from the exertion. Jungkook slows down, still painfully hard inside of you.

“Did I tell you to stop? Keep going,” Seokjin utters quietly. He is the picture of calmness, his hands folded delicately onto his lap.

“What?” you exclaim. “I can’t, no, it’s too much—”

But when it comes to Seokjin, his word is the law. Between the two of you, Jungkook has always been more susceptible to his voice, completely powerless under Seokjin’s influence. And so, Jungkook resumes fucking into you, mindlessly obedient.

“I’m too—Jungkook, stop, I’m sensitive,” you cry out, but your pleas go unheard as he reaches between the two of you, his thumb grazing your clit and causing your entire body to jolt forward. Your walls squeeze around his cock in response and Jungkook trembles in pleasure. His ministrations on your clit, in tandem with the swiveling of his hips, are almost vicious, the sting both pleasurable and painful.

You can feel the beginnings of tears forming, the assault on your senses almost too unbearable to handle. “S-Seokjin, please! Make him stop!”

Jungkook is nearing his climax, his rhythm growing erratic and showing no signs of slowing down. He is unable to hear you past his desire, completely entranced and hypnotized.

“You want him to stop? Fine,” Seokjin says, amused. “Jungkook, stop.”

“No, please!” Jungkook lets out a tortured wail. His body freezes in place, his cock still twitching inside of you. The poor boy lets out a few stray tears, his eyes squeezed shut as his body refuses to do his bidding. He sobs, his voice cracking as he pleads, “Hyung, I was so close!”

“Not my problem,” Seokjin giggles. He gets up from his perch on the sofa, leisurely walking towards the both of you as he surveys the frozen boy with a satisfied grin. “That ought to teach you a lesson,” he says, patting Jungkook on the back.

“And you,” he says, facing you, “aren’t getting away so easily.”

You gulp, a shudder running down your spine. “B-but, the party..?”

Snorting incredulously, Seokjin taps his microphone on. “Namjoon-ssi? Yes, I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. I found Miss Y/N. It seems that she is having stomach problems, so I’ll be escorting her home. Please inform Master Min about her early departure,” he says in one breath, shutting his earpiece off before the other man can reply.

“It seems like everything is already taken care of,” Seokjin says angelically, even though he is anything but. He bends down to pick up Jungkook’s discarded pants, handing them to the younger. He also finds your forgotten vibrator under one of the sinks, picking it up and placing it neatly into his pocket.

He smiles. “Get dressed, both of you. The night is still young, after all.”

[hollowedwing]

Isekai-ed into Hawk's Life

Hawks x gn!winged!Reader

Warnings: ⚠️ Death!(at very beginning, it is an isekai), mentions of death throughout, some angst(??maybe not yet??), slight cursing

THIS WILL NOT FOLLOW A SPECIFIC TIMELINE IN THE MANGA

(so sorry i just, love, love, the idea of having wings)

(this is all my art, it is on IG, im just too embarrassed for people who know me irl to potentially find this xD Even though none of them have tumblr 👀 if you somehow recognize it...props to you?)

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tbh, I can’t decide if I want this to have more than 1 part. 

Word count: ~1,800

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You were on your way home from a long evening at your part time job. Before that you had already taken 2 finals that morning too.

You dragged your feet, exhausted, as you headed towards the crosswalk. Stopping at the edge as the traffic light turned green, you decided to pull out your phone and decided to watch a speed paint from your favorite artist who recently released a new video.

It just so happened it was a Hawks speed paint 👀

The light turned red and you slipped your phone into your pocket as your started to make your way across the street

little did you know this would be the last time you'd cross the street

A wild driver came barreling down the road, no regards for civilians or traffic lights, probably drunk or high or just someone out for blood.

You stood there like a deer caught in headlights as your life flashes before your eyes

You can barely comprehend what's happening as you felt pain engulf your body and suddenly you were unconscious

________________________________________

Keigo tiredly stumbled into his large apartment, kicking off his shoes and shrugging his jacket off by the door

He wants nothing more than to just flop down and pass out. The HPSC has been giving him hell lately about god knows what.

He let out a long sigh and headed towards the bathroom to do his nightly routine

As he finishes up, he drags his feet towards his bed and flops down face first into the comfort of his pillow and sheets

Keigo falls asleep almost instantly after getting into a comfortable position, worn out from a long day of work

What he wasn't expecting was a loud "thud!" coming from the main room. He jolts up from his bed, feathers ready to attack.

*******

Reader's pov(?)

*******

You groaned as you hit the floor. Your head was spinning and it feels like a truck just hit you

oh wait...

You suddenly became more alert, looking around in a panic, expecting to either be on the road and injured or in a hospital of sorts. What you didn't expect was a wooden floor inside of a random apartment.

You felt around your body for any signs of injury, but all you found were a set of wings on your back- wings?? Hold up. Why did you feel wings what kind of sick joke was this?

Your thoughts were racing as your breathing picked up. What was happening? Didn't you just get hit by a vehicle? Why are there wings in your back? Where are you even?

Feeling around in your pockets, you found your phone and whipped it out, trying for anything. You turned it on, the harsh light of it illuminating your face, you tried to send a text to your best friend, but alas, it wouldn't go through. Actually nothing on your phone seemed to work. You checked your location settings, for some reason it said Musutafu, Japan.

Wasn't....Wasn't that the location that most of Boku no Hero Academia took place?? This can't be right, this has to be a dream right? There's no way that you could have actually ended up here unless...

Then it hit you.

You read your fair share of isekai series back when you were alive in your realm. Mostly manhwas of characters getting reborn into another person's body, but, never actually reincarnating as yourself into another world.

That was the only thing you could think of. You must have been reincarnated into the Boku no Hero Academia world. Except as yourself.

In all honesty, this is not how you thought you'd go out. You didn't know what to expect after death, but this definitely wasn't it. After all, this was a fictional setting, wasn't it?

Well, not anymore because now you're living in it! Smh.

That would also probably explain the wings on your back. This was you now. You have a bird quirk.

Now, all you have to do, is figure out where the heck you are.

Just as you are about to stand up, feathers zip towards you, pinning you to the ground

You hear footsteps begin to come towards you. You don't know if you should be scared for your life considering you've already died once or ecstatic because, you knew for a fact, this could be none other than Hawks' apartment.

The winged hero finally emerges and stares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

He says in a low, gravely voice from sleep, "Who are you, and how did you get into my home?" You stare back up at him and nervously chuckle.

"I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you." You nervously sigh out.

"Try me." He demands, sounding a little more irritated now. You sigh in defeat and start to explain your situation.

"Do...do you know what an isekai is?" You said sheepishly while turning your gaze away from his. He kind of gave you a confused head tilt and just a vibe that said “No”. You sigh again and explain it to the best of your ability. Hawks becomes more and more interested and confused as you talk, but nods a long slowly. 

“So...you were reborn here, but as yourself? Wait- does that mean you died before!?” He asked, disbelief and fear ran through his eyes. You looked at him in bitter amusement.

“Apparently I did. The last thing I remember of my world was getting hit by some truck or car. The dude clearly did not know how to drive. I had the right of way I was pretty sure at least. I mean, the light was red, usually that means pedestrians can cross the street? And plus he was going wayyy over the speed limit,” you begin to ramble on, the reality of actually dying setting into you. Hawks noticed the panic beginning to set into you and released you from his feathers. He crouched down next to you and grabbed your shoulders gently.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me, you're ok now, right? You're here, and not dying in the middle of the street still. You're here. In Musutafu," he said trying to calm you back to reality. Well, what was your new reality. Your mind was racing. Trying to put together a coherent thought. 

You look up to him, with a panicked look still in your eyes, thoughts started to come out of your mouth as your brain was trying to catch up with the situation. "I'm... I'm in Boku no Hero Academia and, and you’re Keigo... standing... right in front of me..I have wings. I have wings? Jeezus I have fucking wings. And I’m dead in my own world. I don’t know anyone, well, wait, technically, I do know people, just-Oh gods! I’m so sorry, that name slipped out! I- I, I’m really sorry Hawks." Even in your wild state, you noticed Hawks tense up at the sound of being called Keigo by a total stranger, and were able to get out an apology. That was progress? You were slowly coming back to reality.

Hawks froze up a bit at the sound of hearing his real name mentioned. At first he wasn't sure if he believed your tale of the isekai situation, but after this he might have to reconsider it. He opted to shake off that weird feeling for now and focus on different matters. 

" I-I don't know what I'm supposed to do now? I have nowhere to go or to stay. I'm in a whole different freaking universe! My phone doesn't even hardly work here. And I have a pair of wings on my back!" You puffed them out angrily. Hawks glanced behind you and his eyes widened a little. You in fact, did have a set of bird wings. Kind of owl like wings. Not near as big as Hawks', but definitely big enough to fly you around.

Before Hawks could process the words coming out of his mouth, he was already asking you, "Would you maybe like to stay with me? I can help with your quirk too." He glanced away awkwardly. You looked towards him in disbelief.

"Dude, are you sure? We literally just met like 10 minutes ago? I mean, I'm all for it, I have nowhere else to turn to, but if you really really don't want me here, I will politely step out of your life." You so badly wanted to accept his offer on the spot, but being the considerate, mostly sensible human you were, you gave him the option to back out. Hawks shook his head.

"No, no, it's alright. You can crash here. Uh- I mean- stay here! Sorry!" You giggled at his comment.

"Well thank you very much!"

"It's all good. I have a spare bedroom you can occupy for the time being. I'll give you some clothes to sleep in that'll hopefully fit. Accidentally bought a couple things in the wrong size without looking. " (a/n: just...just assume its your size, or oversized, whatever's comfy idk) He jumped up and headed towards his room to grab you the clothes. You still sat on the floor. Still amazed at everything that was occurring.

Hawks walked back into the room and tossed you the clothes. "Hey uh, you know, you can get up now, sorry for holding you down earlier.."

You blushed and scrambled to stand up, "Oh no! It's ok! I understand. This would definitely warrant that kind of action. Some random stranger crashes into your apartment at like 1am. I completely understand. Honest."

He let out a small laugh and wearily brushed his fingers through his hair. The adrenaline of everything finally wearing off. He could feel the tiredness setting into his aching muscles again. “Ah, well, I’m going to head to bed now. The room is down the hall at the very end that you can stay in. I’ll take you out training tomorrow evening if that’s alright?”

You gave a nod of understanding and followed him down the hallway. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sang as he walked into his bedroom. He gave a hum of acknowledgment and closed his door. 

Making it into what was now your room, you changed out of your clothes so fast, eager to rid yourself of the past hours events. 

Not gonna lie, you could not figure out how to properly get your new wings into the shirt, even with the holes and snaps in the back. Your mind was too exhausted to even process this new skill. So you ended up going to bed without the shirt on and just settled for putting the sweatpants on. 

You figured it’d be good to just pass out asap. You were sure if you tried to recount the recent events, you’d spiral into a panicked mess. 

You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to sleep, trying to only think of positive outcomes for the future. But to be honest, you didn’t know enough about anything in this realm to think rationally about anything good. 

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I prooobably didn’t proofread this as much as I should have

[ellitx]

I know this is mostly a venti blog but will you write for albedo again? would love to see more of him with your writing.. oh also I hope this doesn't come off as pushy haha I was just wondering

I did made a snippet of another albedo x reader and the draft is sitting here for months now ajskks

It has 1.7k words and albedo still hasnt appeared yet orz so uhm, here ya go even tho its not yet finished im sorryy

This looks like aether x reader at the start

            The soft clouds of Mondstadt were a wonderful sight to see. Hues of white and blues scattered across the horizon, making it seem like a smudge of a paintbrush, beautifully painted on the canvas. 

            You were wandering at the town square of Mond, mindlessly checking the shops that will ever catch your interest. You passed by Marjorie’s souvenir shop, boring. Checking Timaeus’s alchemy, yeah you’ve already learned a lot, no need to go back there. 

            Unfortunately, there was none at all.

            A tired sigh slipped from your lips and furrowed your brows. There was nothing to do and you’ve already done all your tasks. Klee was still stuck in her confinement, so you can’t play with her today.

            What a bummer…

            Another sigh came and your stomach released a sound hungry grumbling. You squirmed and wrapped your arms around your waist to silence the noise. Walking around the town made you starve for sure. 

            You noticed a lot of people have been crowding at Sara’s restaurant. Was there an event or something? You shrugged your shoulders to brush those thoughts off, more focused on getting food than the commotion that is happening in front of you.

            “Excuse me—“

            “Please, traveler!! I’ll give you a meal for free!”

            Your brows raised in surprise seeing the Honorary Knight was here. “Ooh, free meal?! Traveler, say yes! Say yes!!” His floating companion, Paimon, exclaimed whilst floating around and wiggled her little legs in excitement. “F-fine… we can’t say no to a free food.”

            Aether placed his hand on his hair and ruffled it with a sigh of defeat. From the corner of his eyes, he saw you waving at him.

           “[Name]!” You approached them and gave a big grin. “Hey! Didn’t know you’re already back here in Mondstadt.”

            He chuckled and rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, we just recently arrived.” Before you could respond, Sara called out your name. “[Name]! Perfect timing, I also need your help.” 

            You tipped your head and hummed. “Sure. Is it another delivery?” The waitress shook her head and jutted her thumb behind her. “Lots of customers are coming and we need you two to give these orders on their table.”

            Your eye twitched and squinted at her in wariness. “I don’t mind but please don’t tell me I still have to wear that uniform.” 

            “Even though it’s a must, there's no need to. There's not enough time to change. Just give these meals to their respective tables.” She clasped her hands in front in a begging manner. Breathing in relief, you went to the counter to take the plates and set off to serve them.

            “You owe me a free Flaming Red Bolognese!” The outlander chuckled at your words and mimicked your action, ready to do the task.

            The duty actually went smoothly than you thought it would be. With Aether helping you out, it was fast and steady but with a few slips here and there. Just as you were already done, another pack of customers came rushing in.

            “Woah!! [Name] really is the waitress again in Good Hunter~!” 

            “Hey! First come, first serve!! And no skipping lines!”

            You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned your head. This is bad. Really bad.

            Your throat bobbed seeing lots of customers gathering in the diner. Then you slapped both sides of your to shake off the nervousness. Paimon glanced at you and floated over. “Woah, lots of people came. Shouldn’t you two handle it?”

            Aether seemed like he was about to pass out from exhaustion and hunger. “I…I just want something to eat…” Head clouded and hazy, he unknowingly grabbed the emergency ration by her legs and opened his mouth ready to take a bite to get rid of his starvation. It surprised her as she wriggled out from his grasp and stomped her foot in the air.

            “Get a hold of yourself! Sticky Honey Roast is almost there waiting for you!”

            “Huh?! Says the one who just floats around and does nothing to help!”

           This is going to be a long day.

  —

             “Good work, everyone!” Sara clapped and wiped her head to remove the sweat that was slipping on the side of her head. The waitress then put out a meat dish coated with sweet honey sauce. The fragrant of the freshly cooked dish wafted through their noses making them drool.

            “Finally!!” Aether cried and took a big munch of Good Hunter’s beloved dish. 

            “And here’s your Flaming Red Bolognese, [Name]. They’re freshly cooked, so eat it while it’s still hot.” She winked and gave you a fork. You thanked Sara and twirled the spaghetti with your fork, letting its long noodles snake around it.

            “Ah, by the way, I have another request for you.” You quirked a brow at her as you chew your food, signing her to continue. “A client asked me to prepare a banquet and since we’re currently low on staff, do you mind if you do the baking?”

            You grabbed a napkin and wiped the red stains on your lips. Her request made you raise a question though. Why you and not someone who’s good at baking? Well, you can bake too but at an approaching proficiency level only. 

            The first person who came to your mind was Noelle. She can do everything perfectly well with ease. However, she seems so busy lately, so asking her to do it will make you feel bad and you don’t want to add another task to her hands.

            And the other one is…

             I-I don’t know anyone else who can bake…! 

             You can also ask Aether but you don’t want to trouble him any further especially since he just arrived here. You've already lost count of how many sighs escaped from you. Well, it’s better to help a friend who’s in trouble than just leaving them there struggling.

            “Sure, but why me?” You asked. Her lips curved and grinned at you as her eyes gleamed like the stars at night. “Your Moon Pie was so heavenly! When I took a bite of it, all the taste came to me at once. And the meringue was perfect! Not too sweet and not too bland.”

            “I would do anything to have another plate of it…” She placed her hands on her cheeks as she whined, drooling just thinking about the said pastry. 

            “So what kind of pastries am I going to bake? I hope it’s not too many.”  Sara propped her elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “Just a cake that’s all.” She then waved her hand, motioning you to come closer.

            Aether looked at them who are whispering to each other. He saw your face turned beet red and before puffing up your cheeks and playfully slapping her arms. Whatever their chat was, he shouldn’t bother wanting to know it.

            Food is here. Food is free, must eat it. Yes, only these thoughts must be inside his head. He continued relishing the delicious meal with Paimon across gnawing the plate clean.

  —

             “Flour, check. Eggs, check. Milk, check. Now all I need is… strawberries!” You were currently shopping for ingredients in Blanche’s shop. Your eyes scanned the racks, looking for a pack of that delicate pink fruit. With the continuous search for the red fruit up and down the shop, you're starting to lose hope at no signs of sight of that sweet berry.

            Did they run out of stock?

            You went towards the shop owner and asked. Sadly, she said yes, much to your dismay. 

            “There might be fresh strawberries in Springvale. You should ask there. Or—” Blanche suddenly smirked, making you feel unease about what’s behind that mischievous smile of hers.

            “You could ask Albedo to grow one for you. He can easily grow out those with just his alchemic powers or something.” Huh, it can be. You closed your eyes and give a thought about it. 

            “Albedo? I mean yeah, but he’s busy right now.”

            “Eh? But he’s right behind you.”

            The mention of the said male standing behind you made you immediately whirled your head in excitement. You feel delighted knowing about it, but rather expecting to see his figure there, you see nothing. No one and not a thing was there. Only air greeted you. 

            The shopkeeper snorted and covered her mouth to hold her laughter as small tears started to create from the edge of her eyes. You can’t believe she just did that. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment that Blanche just tricked you into thinking the Chief Alchemist was really there.

            “S-sorry sorry.” She said in between her giggles and shook her hand. You grumbled and took out a pouch of mora to pay for the ingredients and shoving it into her hands.

            “Keep the change.”

            And with that, you marched your way off to Springvale with your face still flushed. Blanche looked over to the waitress of Good Hunter and gave her a thumbs up with that impish grin still glued to her face.

i have to cut it off here since its not finished yet. It’s just klee and reader are baking. idk what happened to my motivation in writing for albedo ;; but if you read the snippet you can get the whole idea of this oneshot

[sparxwrites]

What would be your ideal dream smp ending?

honestly?? idk! there are just... so many variables here, so many bits and pieces we don’t know about, so much mysterious shit (“what the fuck is up with xd” and “why did dream Want to be in the prison”, for starters), that i think pinning down “i want x event to happen” just seems unfeasible.

(or so i thought when i started typing all of this. the volume of bullet points below the cut appear to have made a liar of me, here.)

that said, i do want an emotionally and narratively satisfying ending, and there are a few things i think need to happen (or that i would like to happen) for that:

dream needs to die. it needs to be sad, and underwhelming, and not a cool death. ideally, he in some way recognises that he’s backed himself into a corner with this and that death is the only way out.

i’m still torn between whether i want tommy, tubbo, or sapnap to be the one to do it. current favourite is tubbo gets between dream and tommy, and then sapnap steps in because he doesn’t want that sort of thing on tubbo’s conscience / he feels he has a promise to fulfil re: what he said about killing dream if dream got out.

everyone is there. big group finale. if the dsmp has been playing with themes of family, and posessions, and community, and power, and the ties that bind - you gotta culminate that shit. and you do that by having everyone on the server pull together, as a single group, with a single aim, and not just putting aside their differences but facing them head-on and apologising, making right, making ammends, as they all gear up for the big showdown against dream. there needs to be, not complete closure or anything, but this sense that everyone’s managed to get a sense of perspective, and some empathy for what everyone else has been through, and a general acknowledgement that really they’ve basically all been played by dream and a lot of the shit they blame each other for is stuff that’s come from dream’s manipulation. i want “never thought i’d die fighting next to an elf / what about next to a friend?” vibes here, i want foreheads pressed together, i want hugs and tears and apologies and clasped forearms. the whole bromance thing. let’s go!!!!!

philza & techno get smacked around the head with a big ol’ “get some perspective and stop being dickheads; helping dream and destroying people‘s shit is bad, and you’re not anarchists, you’re just bullies” hammer.

please let niki be the one to do this actually. she deserves it. she’s so sad, and she’s so clearly going against her moral intuition with the syndicate, and i would love for her to find a bit of the backbone she showed during the manburg era and basically be like “for fuck’s sake” at them.

this works well with the whole “everyone pulls together” finale thing. either techza join with the server-wide pulling-together and realise that, hey, they fucked up with the whole “no government” thing bc this isn’t about power, it’s about community; or they don’t, because they’re too cool and apathetic and also dream hasn’t done anything to them, and that de facto excludes from the “big damn heroes, strength in numbers, you tried to break us apart but you just made us stronger” moment, and they shrug and move on their way to another server somewhere, too old and powerful and tied up in each other to particularly care or learn from their mistakes, and there’s some weird narrative parallel only not quite with dream or sth. idk.

i am fucking desperate for eryn to get the arc i think he’s angling for - which is where he entirely misreads the dynamic between dream and tommy (”ah, my nemesis, my raison d’ete” a la quackity and wilbur, rather than the real “abuser and his terrified victim”) and ends up as basically dream’s acolyte because he thinks this is all fun and games and he’s helping tommy enjoy himself (and because, really, deep down, he just likes feeling big and scary and important, and he’s got a bit of resentment towards tommy for whatever reason, and because dream is very good at charming people into feeling like they’re special). and then i think he should get a moment in the finale where he gets to be tommy’s narrative mirror, and they face off, and eryn is forced to confront what he’s become and who he’s sided with - and then, crucially, unlike dream, he recognises that what he’s become is Bad, Actually and goes. yeah. i’m done with this shit. and turns his back on dream and returns to the rest of the server and stands by tommy’s side.

quackity & wilbur (& sam, actually, tbh) get a chance to redeem themselves, in the sense they recognise how badly they have hurt certain people, and acknowledge it, and apologise and make a demonstrably sincere commitment to change. wilbur ideally apologises to tommy, specifically, and acknowledges their dynamic is unhealthy; quackity, ideally, apologises to like... the whole of las nevadas lmao, but also specifically acknowledges the torture thing was fucked up (though i think the latter is unlikely).

especially for wilbur and sam, like... talk of explicitly getting help? of community support? i’m not asking for “i am going to go to minecraft therapy now”, but i am asking for some explicit acknowledgement of the huge mental health problems wilbur (and others!) have, and support mechanisms being put in place and/or asked for by those who need it - and given by those who have the capacity for it!

something dope should happen with xd. idk what, and i don’t even really care what tbh, i just fucking love minecraft gods and i think he should do some evil and fucked up and very cool stuff. as a treat for him and also me.

jack manifold coming in clutch. idk how and, again, i don’t really care, i just think it would be narratively satisfying.

sub-plots (karl and quackity, whatever the fuck is going on with george, tubbo/ranboo and michael, probably a bunch of other shit) get wrapped up, even if it’s just a few summary lines in the finale or a “word of god” kind of thing or whatever. don’t leave stuff hanging! honestly, as much for the ccs (wilbur and his burger van my beloved. ranboo and his character arc my beloved.) as for my own personal satisfaction.

i would like tubbo and ranboo to get a nice house somewhere with lots of bees and flowers, please. this has literally no relevance to anything, i just think it would be nice and they deserve it.

narratively satisfying closure of tommy destroying the logsteadshire suicide dirt pole pls. i think that would be very cool.

final shot of tommy and tubbo on the bench, listening to the discs. please. i beg. let me die happy with this, pls. it would be such good imagery. i can imagine the animatics as we speak... the fanart... the poetry...

and then, actually, more than that - everyone moving on from that server. like. that place holds such pain, such destruction, such happiness; give them the narrative grace and simplicity of a new start, a new world, a fresh world, with them all stood together as a family, the ties between them stronger for what they have endured.

[wowtobio]

pls feed me with ur incredible writing. Iwa angst bc I haven't cried in a while lol.

Cheater! Iwaizumi x reader (angst)

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a/n: haha this made me laugh, ur too kind my writing is not that good so i cannot guarantee tears

It’s been awhile since I wrote my guy iwa and angst, hopefully this doesn’t turn out too bad eheh this is also sort of like an 800 followers special. Thank you all so much for following and reading my works, i cannot express it any other way :)

warning: angst, cursing, slight mentions

Part 1 | Part 2

You expected this to happen, as hard as it is to swallow the bitter truth that threatened to burn down your whole marriage. This man, what happened? The time he would sacrifice in order to spend just some time with you, only now consumed by his company forcing him to work overtime presumably. The words he spoke to you, full of meaning were now void of emotion and as cold and sharp as icicles hanging from the rooftop edge during winter nights. The love and adoration his eyes used to hold catered only for you.

Where did it go?  

Suddenly, the golden band adorned with emerald jewels did not shine as brightly as it used too. Though you kept yours on, it seems his own band was often absent. But you bit your lip, afraid to voice out queries that could end up in another pointless argument. 

The door shut hard, yet you do not jump from your seat like you used too. Keeping your blank eyes forward staring at the static of the television. No words, no welcomes were heard. 

The calming night breeze coming from an open window only served to add more coldness in the living room.

Recently, all the nagging you did would not serve you both justice. You were only worried for your husband, why did it seem like all he did was yell at you? A simple question concerning what was for dinner would always end up in heated words. 

“You can eat alone.” 

“But, I just wanted to eat dinner with you, I waited so lo-”

“And why should I care? Just leave me be I’m too tired to deal with you right now.”

But, you always seem like you don’t want to deal with me..

Soon, it all ceased to exist. Any conversation or fight in this matter, it all scurried away as fear of more spiteful words would dig deep into your chest and sting greatly. 

But tonight was different, you just missed him so much.

Standing slowly, you trudge behind him wordlessly wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face into his broad back. He stands frozen, you wish you could see his facial expression. Iwaizumi’s gaze is casted down at the arms enveloping him.

You guessed your arms were pretty skinny now, when was the last time you even had a proper meal? 

You tried to ignore the feminine, floral fragrance that lingered on his button up, a scent you know for sure you did not use. 

Minutes passed, what felt like hours. After Iwaizumi snapped out of his state, he easily shrugged you off and continued to your once shared bedroom. And all you could do was hold out your now empty arms and stare at his receding form.

No tears shed, you ran out of them awhile ago. However, that familiar aching pain still stirred deep within your gut.

Another night on the couch it seems.

When was the last time you were happy? Your friends voice concern for your well-being, the sparkle in your eyes now dulled to a mere dull light. Eventually you stopped hearing their distressed voices when you started to decline their offers of going out.

There was no point in forcing yourself to go anywhere anymore. It was more convenient to mask yourself as to not cause anymore worry.

But, this one night you decided to go out. Maybe it was to escape the realms that reminded you of your dying relationship. You texted Iwaizumi, it’s been awhile since you clicked on his contact. And of course, no response. Probably didn’t even glance at the notification. 

Whatever, you gulped down another shot, your step wobbled slightly. Things did not change, your friends held the same hidden worries for you. 

Was it a coincidence that his best friend was there? I mean he was quite the party animal nowadays. His casual, flirty tone ignored by you. Until you voiced heading home early, not wanting to keep your husband waiting. Oikawa’s eyes darkened, he knew something you didn’t. 

And that something was met with you when you quietly open the door to your shared apartment. The thumping of your heart was probably louder than the one heard from your shared bed. 

Suddenly, your surroundings were starting to blur in your vision. Was it the alcohol? Or have you finally lost it?

Hands shaking, you grasp the golden doorknob. Nothing to lose now, as you swung open the only barrier hiding the ugly truth. A shriek, a barely audible gasp and a sob. 

He didn’t even react, he didn’t scramble the way that busty bitch did when she made futile attempts to pick up her clothing and leave. He didn’t even look at your trembling form. 

After the woman hastily left your apartment, taking your dignity along with her. All you could do is silently stand there, hot tears streaming down your pale complexion. Hajime’s eyes, as always casted down at the sheets he committed great sin in. 

You make eye contact with him one last time. It was only a second, yet you saw it all. All the lies he hid, the hatred he held for you. He hid it so well, and you were a fool to not notice how obvious it was.

No more, you ran out of the apartment in the same fashion that woman he indulged with did. 

Days passed. Weeks as well. No apologies, no contact, no moments of crossings, nothing. This is what your marriage has come too. Months of drowning in tears and alcohol.  

The feeling of worthlessness, ugliness, everything negative consumed your being during this dark time. Your phone untouched, flooded with texts and calls from friends and family. But you didn't have the energy to respond back with empty lies. It didn’t matter, out all of those messages his name never popped up. 

How could he do this to you? How could he love you to the point of marriage only to ignore you til the downfall? How could he steal everything away from you like this? Your first kiss, your first time, your hand in marriage. And to just take that all away and leave you with absolutely nothing but heartache and painful thoughts. 

You pondered this, who knows how long you will continue too. And as you scroll down your social media feed for the first time in awhile, Oikawa’s constant post flooded your timeline, one particular caught your eye. A candid selfie of the pretty setter, your ex-husband and a girl clad in a white sundress and sun hat. The girl had perfect wavy, long brown hair that complimented her hazelnut eyes. A body of a goddess and a beautiful smile. Her delicate and dainty arms wrapped around the bicep of your ex-lover. 

Hajime’s face was caught off guard, yet overall he did not seem the least bit effected by the events that happened just months ago. 

It broke you, why was he happier now without you? Though he left you all alone to wallow in your own sadness and selfishness. 

You did not get it, and you never will. As you sobbed deeply into your arms on that cold night, the stars shone brightly into the room barely enveloping your quivering body, all you could ask yourself is where did it all go wrong?

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a/n: idk abt y’all but i think the most painful heartbreak is watching someone fall out of love with u. but once again thank you for reading my blogs you guys :’) i seriously cannot thank you enough 

masterlist

[ickle-ronniekins]

silent confessions

request from nonnie! “Hey erica! I have a request for you, it's a bit challenging i think but I'm sure you'll do perfectly. Imagine like, the fake dating trope with fred, BUT at the end it's a george x reader? Like, imagine george feeling uncomfortable and jealous seeing the reader and fred acting like a couple even though he knows its not real and stuff anyway im obsessed with your writing love you bye”

pairing: fred x reader, george x reader

word count: 3.8k

A/N: wait, i loved this request. so different from the normal fake dating tropes! i hope this lived up to expectations.. idk why i just feel like my writing sort of sucks in this?? wah, idk, sad, feedback pls? also we’ve got some POV changes in this but they’re pointed out ayyyee, thanks for enduring the fluffiest fluff ever bc that’s all i have to give you hooligans

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan

You

You could practically hear the smirk that grew on his face — he wasn’t exactly being subtle. He took his place next to you in the Great Hall, ignored the fact that you were removing spellbooks and quills from your bag to begin your work, and didn’t bother to heed Snape’s warning glance.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Fred’s voice was a little too sweet for your liking; sweet as sugar, in fact. You knew this voice. It’s the voice he always put on whenever he needed a favor — whenever he wanted something from you. You didn’t look up from the table.

“Whatever it is, I think I’m going to pass.”

He scoffed and closed your spellbook. You grunted in annoyance; you were positive he wasn’t going down without a fight, but you supposed you still needed to try, even though you knew in your heart that this was a fight you wouldn’t win. You turned toward him and he batted his eyelashes at you.

“Dear, dear Y/N — you won’t pass when I tell you what’s in it for you.”

“What type of chaotic mischief that you have planned could possibly be beneficial to me?”

He digested this; you were right, and he knew it. He just shrugged, though, took in your rejection and tried to use it to his advantage.

He nodded across to the other end of the Gryffindor table; there sat Angelina Johnson — fellow Gryffindor, member of the DA, Quidditch captain and, to your most recent knowledge, Fred Weasley’s crush. Again. Boy was crazy about her.

“Thought we already tried this, Freddie?” you sighed, stealing your spellbook back from his very tight grasp and opening it to your desired page. He huffed a bit, and you were quite sure he was remembering the disaster that was the Yule Ball, just a year ago.

You noticed a small grin lift his cheeks; he looked rather smug now, which made you worried. What was it, exactly, that he had planned? “I know last year didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped.” Right. Fred had gotten a little too sloppy on his date with Angelina. She’d been a bit turned off. The night ended and she never pursued anything else; he was so embarrassed, neither did he. Fred Weasley? Embarrassed? The word wasn’t even in his day to day vernacular. But boy, was he shook.

“But it was a long time ago — besides, she’s been sending me all types of signals.”

“I don’t think her eye rolls mean she fancies you, Fred.”

He jabbed you playfully in the ribs. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. I know she fancies me. I just know it. You don’t go on just one date with Fred Weasley.”

You scoffed at his air of egotistical confidence; you shut your eyes at the prospect of him maybe going to someone else for help. Much to your dismay, it didn’t happen. He just stayed where he was, resting his chin on his hand, peering at you longingly as if his staring alone would convince you to say yes to whatever he had up his sleeve. After a few minutes, you said, “If I agree to help you, you prat, will you leave me alone?”

“Can’t say leaving you alone would exactly work with what I’ve got planned,” he replied, relaxing now, tapping his foot underneath the table and not taking his eyes off of Angelina. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Relax, Y/N, I’m not going to pin you against the wall and snog you, if that’s what you’re so worried about,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. You felt as though your throat was closing up at the mere thought of it. “Just some hand holding, things of the like. Need to make her jealous. Need to make her realize what she’s missing.”

You groaned in frustration. “Can I take back what I said?”

“Nope,” he answered brightly. “You can’t. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Don’t get in too deep, though. No falling in love with me, alright?”

You felt a pang in your chest; you weren’t in love with him and you never would be. He was your best friend and nothing would change that. You knew it and so did he. You felt worried, though. What would others think? What if Angelina did get jealous — but in a bad way? Or worse — what would George say?

His was the only opinion that mattered to you, truthfully.

So that’s how you came to be Fred Weasley’s “girlfriend”, and when you both finally told George what Fred had strategically planned, you were relieved and also a bit upset at how nonchalant he seemed; a small grin tugged at the edges of his lips which sent you into a tizzy. You tried your very hardest to hide your disappointment; you didn’t want to let on how absolutely mad you were for him. So, you supposed, when you thought about this ridiculous stunt one night in your four poster, fake dating Fred would certainly squash any and all suspicions George had (if he did) about you fancying him.

“How’s my favorite couple?” he’d asked teasingly one day in the middle of the common room, sinking into the couch on the other side of you. Angelina then popped in through the portrait hole, and Fred placed his hand on your knee, stroking it absentmindedly. You felt a dull ache in your heart when you saw George’s eyes dart toward Fred’s hand.

Angelina had done the exact same thing; you were able to see a very faint shade of pink flush her cheeks before she stormed upstairs to her dormitory without a word to any of you. Fred immediately dropped his hand and you felt your muscles relax, but not without a quick squeeze to your knee and a cheeky grin. “Brilliant, Y/N,” he said, earning himself a dull grunt from you. Not that you’d done much, or anything, for that matter. But still, your heart felt sore at the thought: you wanted, more than anything, for George to reach over and gently graze your knee, pull you into him, kiss your temple as Fred had been doing the last few weeks.

The dull ache in your heart just seemed to grow stronger.

George

“Help me!”

You frowned. “I’m already in the middle of the other favor your lovely brother asked me to do,” you told him with a slight twinge of annoyance to your voice; however, it wasn’t difficult for him to detect a bit of cheekiness, too — especially when he saw the slight grin that spread itself across your lips.

“I just need some help with this stupid Potions essay.”

George noticed you soften at his request; he supposed it wasn’t as time-consuming as pretending to be someone’s girlfriend, and was rather elated when you agreed. You pulled out your desired books from the shelves in front of you and pointed at an empty table in one of the rows. “Let’s get started then, Georgie.”

But the truth was, he didn’t really need help. He was actually doing surprisingly well in Potions, for the first time since he began at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to let it get to his head, though. He figured there wasn’t anything wrong with getting some extra assistance.

It wasn’t assistance that he yearned for, though — it was you. More importantly, time spent with you. Any time — which he found himself getting hardly any now that you were “dating” his brother. He was first impressed at the idea that you’d decided to help Fred with his ridiculous request, and spent most of the time hanging around you teasing you and taunting you mercilessly for it, earning himself adorable laughs and flustered looks in return. But now, as he watched Fred press featherlight kisses to your temple and snake his arm around your waist at every given moment, all he felt was resentment. Jealousy. Hurt.

He felt himself feeling guilty; he shouldn’t be allowed to feel any of those things, because Fred didn’t know. Nobody knew. Nobody knew how he felt about you. Also, this whole stupid thing was just a ploy, anyway. So he suppressed those feelings everyday until he ended up alone in his dorm room, where he’d kick his trunk and scream into a muffled pillow while he let his brain unwind and digest the day's events.

“Ah — work here is finished,” he said after a few hours in the library. Much needed hours, in fact. He watched as you slowly placed your spellbooks back into your bag. “Thanks for your help.”

And in between those bouts of jealousy and resentment came moments of clarity, moments of affection, overwhelming feelings of admiration toward you. “For you?” you started, a gentle smile on your lips as you placed a hand to his knee, “Anything.”

You

You woke up before the sun and groaned; it was Saturday. Four Saturdays, in fact, since Fred had asked you to embark on this silly endeavor with him. Three Saturdays since you’d begun wondering when this would finally be over. Two Saturdays since Fred had told you sooner rather than later. One Saturday since George had noticeably become off balance.

You felt a pull at your heart when you popped through the portrait hole with Fred and Ginny later that evening after a much needed trip into Hogsmeade; you chewed nervously on the sugar quill you’d purchased as you placed yourself next to the roaring fire, Fred taking a seat next to you on the couch when Ginny made her way to the girls dormitory.

You didn’t know where George was; he hadn’t come to Hogsmeade. Or maybe he did, and he’d just very successfully avoided you both as you ended up, hand-in-hand, wherever Angelina was. With the exception of a few measly youngins on the other end of the common room, you and Fred were alone.

“Freddie?”

“Hm?”

“I really need to talk with you.”

He looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet he had clutched in his hands. He furrowed his brow and placed the paper on the table in front of him, criss-crossing his legs and peering at you longingly. Then he turned cheeky and wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Must be important,”

You cleared your throat and felt your heart thundering against your ribcage.

You opened your mouth to speak and closed it just the same. You didn’t really know how to ask what you wanted to — to tell him what you wanted to. So instead, you opted for, “How much longer d’you think this is going to last?”

“I dunno — a few days, or so. Why?” He raised his eyebrows. “Sick of me already?”

“Ha-ha,” you replied sarcastically, jabbing him in the chest. “I just — I’m a bit worried —” you broke off and let your mind wander for a moment. You thought about truthfully telling Fred how you felt. Guilty. Upset. Lonely. In love with someone who didn’t seem to notice. Worried he’d find someone else. “I just hope Angelina isn’t getting the wrong idea.”

Fred digested this. “How d’you mean?”

“Well, you want her to run to you in a fit of jealous fury, right?” he nodded curtly, taking this in. “I just hope she doesn’t see us together and instead, turns the other cheek. Looks the other way. Finds somebody else. You know?” But it wasn’t Angelina you were worried about.

Fred thought about this for a moment. You watched as his cheeky expression turned rather stoic, and then a bit grim. “I never thought of it that way.”

Suddenly, you felt extremely worried. You started, “No, no, you know what? I’m being silly — she wouldn’t, because she’s absolutely mad for you, too. Just forget I said anything, okay? I reckon she’ll be round to snatch you right out of my hands this week.” You laughed, but it felt foreign in your mouth. Fred noticed.

“Y/N,” his voice suddenly sounded a lot less like his own — more concerned. “What’s going on?”

Just then, George popped through the portrait hole with Ron, Harry, and Neville. You met his gaze and let it linger for a few long moments. He then smiled brightly, as if he hadn’t been acting strange this entire past week. With a quick wave to you both, ignoring Fred’s motion to come and sit down, he made his way straight up to the boys dormitory. Fred shot you a glance, and you answered his previous question.

“Nothing, Fred,” you sighed, silencing him before he could ask you if you knew what was up with his twin. You hated how painfully true your next words were. “There’s absolutely nothing going on.”

George

George was outside in the courtyard with Ron, Harry, and Ginny. He’d been doing his best to avoid you and Fred at all costs, which was pretty hard when you were his best friend and Fred was his twin. But he tried.

He found himself growing incredibly uncomfortable around you both; the sheer sight of Fred slinging an arm around your waist, intertwining his fingers with yours, calling you his “love” — it sent George spiraling. He didn’t want Fred doing those things. In fact, he didn’t want anyone doing those things. Only him. He wanted you to be his love.

“Georgie?”

You took him by surprise in the courtyard; the others were immersed in a conversation about bets, or something. He, though, was peering up at you, doing his very best to not look as bloody nervous as he felt.

“Can we talk?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer; you pulled him to his feet and immediately brought him back into the castle. You found an empty classroom and sat yourself down on a desk across from him. He had to resist the urge to spill his guts, tell you everything, grab your face in his hands and confess his unwavering love for you.

So instead, he opted for a generic, “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure..” you started timidly. He could see the shyness in your eyes and he didn’t like it one bit. You? Shy around him? You’d never been. He hated that this is where it had gotten too. “Are you mad at me?”

He was very much taken aback at your forward question; way to cushion the blow. He swallowed a few times, trying very desperately to dislodge the lump that appeared in his throat and hoped to Merlin that he could fool you. “Mad? Of course not. Why would I be?”

You crossed your arms, now looking a bit angered. George felt his insides constrict. “We haven’t spoken in days.”

“I’ve just — been busy,” George lied. His jaw tightened. “Assignments, and things. Detention. You know,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood, “the usual.”

You smiled back, though it was a broken sort of smile. Lonely. It took everything in him not to lean over and kiss it right off of your mouth. “Are you sure? You’d tell me if anything was wrong, right?” He swore he heard more than yearning in your voice; he scolded himself silently for being dishonest. Was your voice breaking? “You’re my best friend.”

Inside his pockets, he clenched his fists. He was going to go for it. Who cared about Angelina? Fred could get her without this ridiculous bloody stunt of his. And George needed to tell you before you fell for his twin, for real, and the both of you ended up heartbroken. He stepped forward, but before he could do or say anything, you slung your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tight. He felt revitalized at your embrace, like he was reentering his body after having been off balance for months. His fingertips found your hips and he focused solely on the smell of your shampoo, the feeling of your body pressed tightly against him. When you both parted, he took your hands in his. He wet his lips and took a steady deep breath. “Honestly?”

“Darling!”

Fred’s voice, much to George’s dismay, came from the classroom door. Damnit. How had he found you both? The door was closed! Frustration, anger, and gloom raced through George’s body; he was about two bloody seconds away from decking his brother for interrupting. But he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. Fred didn’t know. George sighed through gritted teeth, let your hands fall out of his, and backed away slowly.

“”C’mon, love, we’ve got dinner,” Fred called, sounding much happier than George would’ve liked. To him, Fred said, “you coming, mate?”

“Be there in a minute, Freddie.”

Fred grinned brightly and left you both standing in the middle of the classroom, the tension still hanging in the air. You turned back from the door, a solemn sort of look on your face, and asked him, “What were you going to say?”

“Oh,” George’s voice got caught in his throat, “just — been a little stressed. Knackered from class more often than not. Reckon I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You frowned. He knew that you were aware not to press on; that was all the information he was going to give. You took a deep breath. “As long as we’re okay?”

“Of course we are.”

“Okay,” you said. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m famished. Let’s go eat.”

You

“Did I do something wrong?”

Fred was standing across from you in the common room, arms crossed, shoulders back, and a smirk growing on his face. He laughed at your nervousness. He’d just told you that things were over between you both. You’d asked, of course, just to be courteous. But you were actually pretty bloody excited. “Of course not, Y/N. You’ve done quite the opposite, actually.”

“Meaning?”

Fred walked over to you and placed his hands on both of your shoulders. He wet his lips before a huge, cheeky grin swept itself across his face. He squeezed you. “Angelina cornered me this morning.”

You raised your eyebrows. You were suddenly feeling much more invigorated. You grabbed his face out of pure excitement and shook him. “And? Keep bloody on, would you?!”

He threw his head back and laughed haughtily now. “Haven’t seen you this excited since before we began this,”

“Sorry,” you calmed down and frowned a bit. “Reckon I haven’t been the greatest “girlfriend”...”

A soft smile found its way across Fred’s cheeks. You furrowed your brows in confusion, hoping that he was going to tell you that he and Angelina were finally, wonderfully, officially together, which meant that you and Fred didn’t need to be. But he caught you completely off guard and said, “Don’t blame yourself too much. I reckon it’d be difficult to pretend to date me, especially when you’re in love with someone else.”

You were certain that your heart had jumped directly into your throat; your entire body went rigid at his words. He knew? Who else knew? Did George? Did everyone?  “I don’t.. know what you’re on about, Freddie.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” he teased, pulling at your hair and shaking his head. “C’mon. You think I didn’t notice? Each time I’d drop your hand, or unwind my arm from your waist, I saw you steal glances at him.” Fred leaned in to get closer to you and you noticed a light shade of pink wash over his cheeks. Had you been silently confessing your love for George this entire time? “He was stealing them right back, you know.”

You swallowed thickly. Did Fred know more than he was letting on? Where was George? “He was?”

“He’s in the Great Hall.” It was evident to you that Angelina was watching from the other end of the common room, and she was smiling brightly. No doubt, Fred had told her everything. You turned back toward Fred and grinned nervously. He took your hands in his and squeezed them. He simply said, “Go get him already, would you?”

And as quickly as your feet could carry you, you ran swiftly down the staircases, through the corridors, into the Great Hall and all the way to the front, where George was sitting, pouring over a bit of parchment, looking positively ghastly. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins like fire; your cheeks felt hot and flushed and each and every muscle in your body ached from running so bloody fast. “Ah,” he said brightly at the sight of you. “Come here to help me, have you? This assignment is a right load —”

You cut him off, ignored this completely and pulled him to his feet; he peered down at you with a confused expression and opened his mouth to speak, but you cupped his face in your hands, pulled him forward, and kissed him. The muffled moan that escaped his lips gave you your answer — he was certainly shocked. However, it didn’t take him long to melt into it; he was kissing you as though he’d never kissed anyone in his life, like the pure feeling of your lips moulding together with his was the very oxygen pumping through his lungs at that very moment. His hands were tangled in your robes, but he eventually found himself stroking your spine delicately with his fingers, earning himself slight whines from you as he laughed cheekily against your lips. From behind you somewhere, someone said, “Hey Y/N, you do know that’s the wrong twin you’re snogging, right?”

“Oi, shove off, Finnegan!” you called, parting from George only for a moment. “I know which twin it is!”

You turned back toward George and the two of you let out a bit of relieved laughter, limbs still entangled together. “I’ve got a confession to make,” he began, biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from pouncing on you, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Yeah?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Pretty difficult to do anything about it when you’ve been dating my brother the last month or so,”

“You’re right,” you told him, pulling a bit on his tie, “but I’m pretty sure he broke down and told Angelina everything.”

George raised his eyebrows at you in surprise. You continued, “Pretty sure he got sick of me being a mopey “girlfriend” because all I wanted to do was be with you instead.”

His sweet smile turned rather sensual. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so,” you told him straightforwardly, running your hands through his very messy red hair.

Somewhere in the distance, over the sea of people watching you both, Seamus Finnegan shouted, “Wait, has it always been George?”

George actually snorted a bit at this; then he bit down on his lip again, wiggled his eyebrows at you, and asked, “Well — has it?”

You didn’t break your gaze, though; instead, you let your eyes linger on George’s for much longer than you normally would. You were pretty sure that you could hear the steady thumping of his heart against his ribcage, and his eyes washing over you like a cool tide completely sent you into overdrive. Suddenly, you were feeling much more confident than normal. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. “Yeah,” you said to George, pressing your lips to his once more, “it’s always been you.”

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[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Addicted to You

Part 1: The Chain

Summary/Author's Note: As the sister of veteran turned freelance for hire Santiago "Pope" Garcia, you grew up close to his friends and ex-military squad. Frankie Morales always had your heart, in the same way you always had his--the two of you just never seemed to get the timing right. Trying to escape the violence of a military career based family, you turned to journalism and humanitarian work in war torn countries. But three days ago your crew was ambushed and after three days without any contact, Pope is getting the guys back together for a rescue mission. (Follows Canon events very closely with added character and liberties) Thank you to @winters-buck for headcanoning with me about Frankie and getting me pumped up enough to write this.

Pairing: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Pope's sister!Reader Word Count: 4.6k (idk what happened...) Warnings/rating: (NC-17)/18+ Language, smoking, implied drug use, PTSD, sex/smut, kidnapping, blood, violence, threats, fluff and feelings

MASTERLIST

Present Day Somewhere in Texas, USA

Santiago "Pope" Garcia had always had a talent when it came to lying, but never had that talent been used so willingly on his closest friends. He was a good bluffer. It had helped his career in the military with his superiors, it had helped him on their weekly poker nights, but he had never planned on getting the five of them back together to boldly lie directly to their faces. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of the locker room as Will looked him over skeptically.

"What did he say?" Will asked, straddling the wooden bench and crossing his arms to mirror his friend.

"He's taking a look at it," Pope sighed, taking off his hat and running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "He may not be up for this."

Of course he was talking about their friend Tom. Tom, code name 'Redfly' had been their captain back in the day, their leader, and his brutality and no bull shit attitude made him a good one. Pope knew if he wasn't on board with this, then Will would be out, and the rest of them would drop like flies before this even began.

"You know he's the best with something this complex, and he needs this right now," Will said and Pope agreed with a silent nod.

Beyond the concrete walls of the locker room a cheering crowd could be heard albeit muffled. Both men turned and looked in the direction of the noise before Will shook his head and leaned forward on the bench.

"This shit is fuckin depressing," he said.

"Come on let your brother have some fun. Support him." Pope offered with a wave of his hand like Will's brother getting the shit kicked out of him for a couple hundred bucks wasn't a big deal.

"I've been supporting him since the day he was born." Will pointed to the wall that stood between them and the mixed martial arts arena. "That kid's a one in a million talent, going out there playing the fucking clown to a bunch of hillbillies."

Pope started to respond but the door opened and a man dressed in nothing but loose fitting shorts and the med tape wrapped around his hands entered.

"Where are my boys at?!" He yelled in a deep voice like an announcer and threw his hands in the air.

"Benny! There he is!" Pope embraced him before patting him on the back and passing him off to his brother who stood up from the bench.

"Hey, shithead," a familiar voice said in Spanish and Pope turned around to see Frankie, a wide grin on his face.

Frankie "Catfish" Morales, known mostly by 'cat' or 'fish' to his friends, was probably the closest thing Pope had to a best friend. Even though it had been two years since they had last seen one another, Frankie looked exactly like he always did. His dark curly hair stuck out under his trademark, ratted, ball cap. His lips held a full mustache while the rest of his face had what was probably week old scruff and the brightest smile of the group. It didn't hit him until they were embraced in a tight hug just how much he had missed the man.

"How' you doing?" Pope asked, patting him on the shoulder.

"Hanging in there, I guess." Frankie nodded, finally letting go and moving to sit on the bench opposite of Will. "Is Tom coming?"

"Yeah, he said he would be here," Pope nodded looking at all of them in front of him. "You assholes get my texts?"

All of them looked in various stages of guilt, rubbing the back of their neck, adjusting their ball cap, not meeting Pope's eyes. Of course they had gotten his texts and by the tension in the room none of them had responded.

"Yeah," Frankie finally broke the silence. "Yeah I got your texts."

"And? I need a pilot." Pope looked at his best friend.

"I don't do that anymore, man." Frankie shook his head and sighed. "Besides, I lost my license."

"I don't need a pilot with a license, I need a pilot I can trust. And that's you." Pope pointed at his chest and held his gaze.

Frankie rubbed his hand over his face and stood up, leaning back against the lockers and looking up at the ceiling. "Will, you in?"

"I told Pope, if Redfly was in, then so was I." Will turned his sights to his friend and shrugged.

"And what about you, Benny?" Pope said, asking the man who had been quiet the longest.

"Of course I'm in."

Pope ruffled his short, dirty blond hair roughly with a smile and a word of praise and Benny shoved him away with a grin.

"Fuck," Frankie sighed and shook his head. "So, what's the job?"

"Can we talk details later? It's fight night--I got other shit to think about." Benny pleaded, looking around to the other three as the crowd cheered again through the concrete walls.

"Sure, wouldn't want you to be late," Will scoffed and stood, offering a hand to his brother and helping him up off the bench. The three men left the locker room and started down the concrete tunnel that led out to the arena. Benny was in front, holding his fists out in front of him like a true heavyweight and mumbling what sounded like a well rehearsed pep-talk to hype himself up.

Frankie and Pope hung back a few steps beside the other two, falling into step with one another like they shared the same brain. The other boys often joked that they did. Frankie put his hand on Pope's shoulder and rubbed his own beard in thought before he broke the silence.

"So, I got busted. That's why my license lapsed. It's not a big deal." He let the sentence hang in the air before he shook his head and sighed. "Okay, so it is a big deal."

Pope turned and looked at him. "Coke?" When Frankie nodded in agreement Pope rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Cat."

"It's still pending. But I'm clean now--I swear."

Pope nodded as they kept walking. He believed him. Frankie was a man of his word, and he knew he didn't have to prove anything to him. If he said he was clean, then he was clean. And cocaine or not, Frankie was the best damn pilot he had seen in his entire career, he wanted him for this job. No one else was going to cut it. Not when the objective was this important.

"Hey," Frankie said, trying to act casual but sounding anything but. "Have you talked to (y/n) lately? How--uh, how's she doing?"

There it was. He had to hand it to him, it took him longer to ask than he would have thought, but where it was normally endearing how much Fankie was still in love with you, this time it made Pope sick to his stomach. Did he tell him? He should tell him--even if it was just him. It was the right thing to do. Instead, as they approached the arena, the lie fell from his mouth.

"She's uh--she's good. Took a job down south, but I haven't heard from her this week." It wasn't a total lie. Pope didn't look at him and he could feel his friend staring intently at him.

Frankie let it go, even though his expression said he didn't want to. "So, what is this job really? What aren't you telling me?"

Pope looked over his shoulder, "It is what I said. Simple recon. We can talk details after the fight."

"Sure, whatever you say, man," he shook his head as they walked into the crowd and Benny greeted Tom with a cheer and a hug as the taller man started passing out beers he had just gotten from the concession stand. "I'm in." Frankie said flatly and walked passed Pope, taking a beer from Tom and giving him a clap on the shoulder.

Pope stopped short and watched the other man smile and interact with the rest of his friends. Frankie was his oldest friend, and lying to him hurt worse than that time he was shot down in Peru. Frankie had been in love with you for as long as he could remember, and if Pope was being honest with himself, he was the only man that deserved you and that he trusted to take care of you. He thought you guys would really make it work, and the day you called it quits hurt him too. Why wouldn't he want his best friend to take care of his sister? Protect you when he couldn't? Make sure you spend the rest of your life happy.

The four of them sat in the front row as Benny walked up the steps to the raised fighting platform, ducking under one of the ropes and bouncing around like there were springs on his feet. Pope looked back at Frankie and when the other man smiled, Pope returned it but it was a lie. He knew he was going to be crushed when he found out why the gang was really back together. When Frankie found out you were missing, nothing was going to stop him from getting you back--that's the real reason Frankie was the most important part of this crew. Because just like Pope, Frankie would get you back...or burn the whole country down trying.

--

Two years earlier

It was just supposed to be drinks and pool, maybe some darts if he talked you into it--you were a terrible shot and it made him laugh until his eyes watered. Frankie had asked you to go to the bar while he was in town and you had happily said yes. You missed him. And by the look on his face you knew he missed you too.

It was never awkward when you were with Frankie. No matter how much time had passed, as soon as the two of you were back together it was like picking up right where you left off. Gentle touches, knowing each other's drink order, holding hands, it was all so natural. He opened every door for you, bought every seven and seven you ordered, and paid for every round of pool, shoving more quarters into the metal slot and racking up the balls the second the previous game ended.

The first part of the date ended when Frankie tried to teach you how to do a trick shot in the corner pocket. He leaned his pool cue against the table and stood behind you, wrapping his arms around yours and putting his large hands over yours on your own pool stick. He smelled like fresh air, like the woodsy smell of recently cut grass, clean earth, and just a hint of campfire smoke--musky and comfortable and safe. He spoke in your ear telling you where to aim, and even though he had to speak over the other patrons and the juke box it felt like he was whispering just for you. When he pressed himself against your ass, your body erupted in goosebumps. He must have felt it too because he asked, "Wanna get out of here?" And all you could do was nod.

The both of you fumbled into your apartment, he barely got the door closed by kicking it, as you dropped your purse and keys on the floor and started unbuttoning his shirt. Of course all of this would have been easier if either of you could pull away from each other's lips, but that wasn't happening.

"Bedroom or couch?" You said as you shoved his shirt off of his shoulders.

He grabbed the hem of your own shirt and pulled it over your head in one smooth motion. "Both." The two of you laughed and kept kissing as he walked you backwards towards the hallway. "Kitchen. Floor. Shower." He kissed you after each word and you blushed, laughing again at his suggestion. This was the Frankie you remembered. This was the Frankie you fell in love with.

"Got big plans for this weekend, do ya?"

"Yup," he bent slightly and gripped the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. "And they all involve you."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him hard on the lips. His tongue slid into your mouth like it had so many times before, exploring, tasting, moaning softly into you. He knew where your bedroom was, walking down the hall like he lived there and nudging the door open with his hip. Some summers, back when both of your lives were simpler, it was almost like he did live there. He had his own drawers, his own side of the bed, and you made sure his favorite coffee was always in the cabinet.

"Frankie," you breathed against his mouth and his grip tightened on you. You slid your fingers into his hair, removing his ball cap and tossing it behind you.

"Tell me, baby," he mumbled back, putting you down on the bed and crawling over your body.

"I missed you," you said and he froze, looking down at you with those enchanting brown eyes.

He swallowed hard and tried to slow his breathing. "I missed you, too."

The both of you took a moment just staring at one another. He leaned down and gave you another soft kiss before moving to trail his lips down your jaw, moving to your breasts and unclipping the snap in the front. He took each of your breasts in his hands, squeezing and kneading them as you closed your eyes and carded your fingers through his hair again. When he took one of your nipples between his teeth you gasped, arching your back off of the bed and holding him against you.

"You still like that?" He mumbled, moving to the other nipple and repeating the motion, sucking it into his mouth along with as much of your breast as he could. The feel of his teeth against your skin was exquisite and you could have let him do what he was doing all night.

"What do you think?" You laughed as he moved from your breasts down your stomach, biting and kissing his way to the edge of your jeans. "You always were a boob man."

"For your perfect tits? Absolutely." He undid the button and zipper, grabbing opposite sides of your pants and underwear, shimmying them off of your hips.

"Charming." You scoffed, raising your hips to help him as he stood and did the same to his own.

"You always thought so."

He knelt on the bed, stroking his half hard cock before he fell on top of you, making the mattress bounce gently. You gripped his shoulder and rolled him over onto his back, enjoying the surprise on his face and the absolute adoration as your breasts hung directly in front of his face. He started to raise up to put them in his mouth again but you pressed his shoulders back into the bed.

"My turn," you grinned and he nodded, letting you move down his body, kneeling off to the side.

As soon as you wrapped your hand around his dick, his eyes fluttered closed. You worked him slowly before bowing your head and letting some saliva pool in the front of your mouth and letting it drop slowly onto the head and down the shaft. Your hand worked the liquid down, making it slide easier as you pumped him.

"Fuck, (y/n)," he sighed as he watched you. "You're killing me."

"You still like that?" You asked, playfully, mocking his earlier question and he chuckled.

"Smart ass."

You smiled again before taking him in your mouth and you revelled in the way he moaned softly and slid his hand into your hair at the back of your head. You bobbed in tandem with your hand, working the entire shaft as you sucked the head of his cock and his grip on your hair tightened. You took as much of him into your mouth as you could, your lips meeting your fist and a small sound escaped you as he hit the back of your throat. He thrusted up involuntarily and when you gagged slightly, he opened his eyes and looked at you worriedly.

"I'm sorry," he breathed and you shook your head, continuing to suck him off, running your tongue along the large vein that ran the length of him. There was no apology needed, you were just as desperate to remember his body as he was yours. He held out for a few more pumps, rock hard in your hands before he sat up and grabbed you by the arm. "Come here. Come here, baby."

You let him pull you to him as he leaned his back against the headboard and pulled you into his lap. He reached his hand between the two of you and ran two thick fingers along the slit of your pussy.

"Shit," he cursed quietly as he felt how wet you already were. He loved how quickly you were ready for him, it had always been like that. He could have you dripping for him before he even got you undressed and he loved reaching up your skirt or your dress and feeling you against the lace of your thong. "You're so wet."

"You love it," you said as he continued to stroke you and you straddled his hips, putting his arms around his shoulders.

"Always have," he said and it was in a voice tender enough that you weren't sure if you were talking about the same thing any more.

You leaned up on your knees as he took his cock in his hand and lined it up between your thighs. You lowered yourself on to him, sinking down slowly and letting your body adjust to his length. He throbbed inside of you as you paused, letting yourself adjust to his girth. The stretch was intense and you wanted it to last forever, feeling every inch of him as the bottom of your thighs touched the top of his and you settled in his lap. Your fingers found their way into his dark, soft hair. It was a little longer at the ends and you liked the way it curled around his hat, but that hat was currently on the floor with the rest of your clothes so you could touch the soft locks as much as you wanted.

"You ready, baby?"

You nod and hold him close, your breasts pressing against his chest, your foreheads coming together as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Fuck me, Frankie. Please, please." You whisper the last few words over his lips as he started to thrust up inside of you.

You both released a contented sigh at the same time and it made you smile. Even in your worst days, it always felt like you and Frankie were in sync, two halves of a whole. How your body had missed him, missed the soft way he said your name and the way he held you close to him like he wouldn't be satisfied no matter how close you were.

"I missed you," he said, closing his eyes as he guided your hips up and down, rocking against him as your stomachs brushed together.

"You said that already," you smiled, moaning softly as he hit a particularly sweet spot deep inside of you.

"And I'll say it again," he grinned, pressing his nose against your cheek and kissing your lips.

"Charmer," you kissed him back, soft and slowly.

He dipped his head and kissed your neck, sucking along the soft skin of your throat. You wanted him to leave marks like you both were in grade school, making out in the back of the movie theater, kissing in the bed of his truck, back when things were simpler. His arms tightened around your back as you nosed his hair, breathing him in and kissing the top of his head.

"Fuck," he cursed quietly as you ground your hips down on his lap. "You feel so good, baby."

"Don't stop," you moaned softly in his ear as he picked up the pace. "Harder, Cat, harder, please."

He held you tightly as he looked up and put his hand on the back of your neck. "Look at me." You opened your eyes and leaned back slightly to look down at him with heavy eyes. "God damn, you're so beautiful," he whispered and it made you blush. You kissed him hard and slid a hand between the two of you, frantically searching out your clit as his thrusts started to get sporadic and uneven.

"I'm gonna cum, Cat-" you watched as he looked at you and nodded encouragingly.

"Come on, baby. Give it to me. I got you," he panted close to your face as his cock hit the end of you, pumping up inside of you.

Your orgasm took you suddenly and completely. Your mouth opened but no sound came out as you clenched around his cock and squeezed your thighs around his lap. You felt the heat rise up from your core to the rest of your body in a way that made you curl your toes against the bedspread. You threw your head back and groaned out your pleasure to the ceiling, his name falling from your lips with sweet ecstasy as you clung to his shoulders.

He followed right behind you, spilling himself inside your cunt, the feeling of him hot and wet around his cock and starting down your thighs. He thrust hard, and spaced out, a few more times, grunting a mixture of his pleasure and your name with each movement.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed, leaning back against the headboard and pulling you against him.

You pressed your cheek against his chest, breathing hard as you ran your hand up his neck and played your fingers against the scruff along his jaw. He was still inside you and you clenched your thighs again, an afterthought of a muscle twitch left over from your orgasm. It made him groan again and tighten his grip on your hips.

"Sorry," you laughed softly and he chuckled.

"We still got it, don't we?" He asked, looking down at you with a boyish grin.

"I never had any doubts." You crossed your arms on his chest and laid your head on top of them, looking up into his eyes. You shivered as he lifted your hips slightly and his softening cock slid out of you and you both got more comfortable. It was definitely quicker than the two of your normally liked it to be, but after being apart for so long, you had a feeling anything that happened tonight would be desperate and fast.

He dipped his head and kissed you softly, each kiss punctuated but a soft pop in the silence of your bedroom. He brushed your hair away from your face and smiled.

"You want me to head out soon?" He asked, trying to hide the fear in his face of the possibility that you would make him leave.

"No," you said quickly, shaking your head and staying firmly planted on top of his lap. "No, stay the night. Please." You added the last word sweetly and his face relaxed.

"Sure thing, sweetheart." He nosed your hairline and kissed your forehead.

You knew this couldn't last. You knew he was leaving tomorrow for another mission, another pilot seminar, and you were headed upstate for your job as well. You loved Frankie Morales with all of your heart and he felt the same way--life just always seemed to have other plans. And yet, life was just as cruel as it was sweet because somehow, someway, it always brought you two back together.

---

Present Day Some where in the jungles of Columbia

You weren't sure how long you had been traveling. In fact, when you thought about it, you didn't know much of anything. You twisted your wrists in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure the zip ties were leaving on your skin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you whispered, leaning your head back against the side of the van. The bumps and potholes in whatever shitty road you were on caused the back of your skull to bump against the metal. How had this happened?

The last few days had been a blur. You and a group of journalists were having dinner in a local village. You had teamed up with a group of doctors and, in between travel, were lending a hand providing basic medical care to anyone who needed it in the surrounding towns. You cut bandages, gathered clean water, played soccer with the children, and took photos to add to your collection and publish when you got back to the States. It had been a pretty uneventful trip, enjoyable actually, until Lorea's men had shown up. No one seemed to know what the dangers narcos drug lord would be doing in a place like this.

Before you knew what was even happening, there were guns pointed at your crew, men yelling in Spanish that you only vaguely understood, and you raised your hands above your head shouting back, pleading them to calm down. Did they want money? No, that would have been too easy, and as a traveling journalist that dabbled in humanitarian efforts, money was not something you had a lot of anyway.

A rather large man grabbed you by the wrists and even though you struggled, even though you screamed, it didn't make any difference. A hand on your head made you duck as you were shoved into a van along with a few of the others on your crew and the door slammed shut behind you.

"Stop, stop," you tried as the van revved and pulled away down the street. "You don't have to do this--" The man who grabbed you ignored your words, if it was because he didn't understand English or because he didn't care, you weren't sure.

He jerked your wrists in front of your body and wrapped the zip tie around them, pulling it tight. Your heart was beating way too fast and you could feel the blood rushing in your ears and on instinct you pulled your hands away from him and screamed again, turning towards the door. He yelled something in Spanish and pulled his arm back before punching you in the side of the face. Your world exploded into flashes of white as you hit the floor of the van. With the wind knocked from your lungs, you gasped for air and coughed, your eyes burning with hot tears.

The man driving turned and yelled something over his shoulder, obviously upset at his partner for roughing up the merchandise. Your stomach felt nauseous and the last thing you remember was some kind of scratchy material being put over your eyes and the rest of the world went black.

Tag List: @stevieharrrr​ @zeldasayer​ @winters-buck​ @seawhisperer​ If you wanna be tagged, lemmie know!

[illfoandillfie]

I’d love a platonically blurb ab them applying to foster/adopt kids 🥺

i love you for this request but also it made me very soft and emo and how dare you

It ended up being a little less about them actually applying and more just them deciding they wanted to adopt or foster and discussing their options because i can't read but perhaps i could do an actual fic later about the process involved and them meeting their kid and stuff?? idk...dad ben makes me 🥺🥺🥺

Anyway, here's the second last blurb in my Platonically event!

Words: 1,683

Warnings: Nothing much really, discussions about children including pregnancy, adoption and fostering, a little mention of sex but nothing explicit.

“I wanna be a dad.”  You weren’t surprised to hear Ben say it. You’d seen the signs. There was the way he’d befriended and doted on the adorable toddler who’d played his daughter on a TV project. Every day he’d come home and his face would light up as he talked about her – how she babbled little kid nonsense at him all day and how they’d played silly games sitting on the floor of the set while the cameras were set up around them. You’d almost expected him to bring up the possibility of having kids then but he’d surprised you and not mentioned it. You could tell he was thinking about it though which made you think about it too. It made sense to at least discuss it and see where you both stood now that you’d been in the QPR for a while and knew that it worked and that you made a good team. You asked about it one night while you were washing the dishes and Ben was drying them. “Do you ever think about kids? Like having one?” “Yeah, sometimes,” he said, bumping your shoulder gently with his, but the conversation didn’t go any further than that.

It wasn’t until about three months later that you heard him say it. It took one of his mates having a baby with his wife for Ben to bring it up. You’d gone over a couple of weeks after they left the hospital, gifts in hand (a cute little spotty onesie and soft toy elephant that he hopefully wouldn't grow out of as quickly as he would his clothes). It was a lovely afternoon, catching up with the new parents and meeting brand new baby Bertie who just stared at everyone who cooed over him. You each had a turn holding Bertie too, marvelling at how anything could have such tiny hands and such big brown eyes. Ben happened to be handed the bundle of blankets that Bertie was swaddled in as the baby began to fall asleep. He didn’t mind though. When the new father asked if he should take Bertie and put him in his crib Ben waved him off. He said he didn’t mind sitting there a little longer to make sure Bertie really had dropped off. The parents didn’t argue, a little relieved that they were able to take a break and just relax. Both of them excused themselves for a moment to get some more food and use the bathroom which left you and Ben and the sleeping Bertie alone together. Quietly you stepped towards the armchair Ben was in, sitting on the arm so you could run your fingers through his hair. “I wanna be a dad.” Ben glanced up at you as he said it, and you could see how much he meant it. “Let’s talk about it tonight,” you reached out to stroke Bertie’s pudgy cheek as Ben lent his head against your side, his attention turning back to the baby.

Neither of you mentioned it on the drive home. In fact you both specifically avoided mentioning it, though not from fear of what might be said but rather just wanting to make sure you had adequate time to go over it without rushing. Once you were inside, shoes kicked off and the kettle on, you opened the discussion.  “So....a baby?” Ben nodded, as he settled into the couch, body angled towards you, “I’ve been thinking about it for a bit, it’s not just because of this afternoon but that did help. I really want kids and I think I’m at a place where I feel ready to. Is that...is that okay?” “It’s wonderful Ben. Honestly, I’ve kinda been waiting for this conversation for a while. I’ve seen you interact with kids and I knew it wouldn’t be long before you wanted your own.” He laughed and inclined his head in amused agreement, “So does that mean you like the idea?” “Yeah I do.” “Really? Just that I know you weren’t really sure about it when we first decided to be partners.” “I might not’ve been then, but I am now.”  “What changed?” “Well...you, obviously.” “Me?” He seemed surprised. “Look, before we got together I couldn’t imagine being in a relationship that didn’t make me feel at least a little uncomfortable. I figured I’d be single forever and I was okay with that. I’d considered just having a kid on my own – sperm donor or whatever – but that seemed like a really hard thing to do and I wasn’t sure I’d ever want it bad enough to do that. But then you showed me that it was possible to be in a partnership that felt good and, I don’t know, I started thinking about the possibility of having a family with you, and the more I thought about it the more I liked the idea.” Ben smiled as if he was trying not to look as pleased with your answer as he felt, “So we’re doing this then? For real?” “Yeah I think so. Weird.” “Bit weird.” There was a pause as you both just sat with the knowledge that you were planning a future together, that you both wanted to go ahead with it. You never would have guessed you’d get to that point with anyone.

Ben was the one to break the moment, “How would you want to...I mean how should we...How do you feel about being pregnant?” You bit your lip in thought, “I’m not sure. Honestly, it still kinda freaks me out.” “That’s understandable.” “I mean, if it was a dealbreaker for you then I would. I’m not entirely against the idea of carrying our baby and it would mean we’d get to do the fun part of making it.” “We do the fun part a lot as is,” Ben laughed, “But it’s actually something I thought about a lot.” “The fun part? That doesn’t surprise me.” “No, the you being preggers part,” he said exasperatedly, “I knew you weren’t super keen on the whole thing so I got thinking about whether or not it really mattered to me and I don’t think it does. I think I could be just as happy with a kid that came from someone else. And,” he paused as if giving you time to prepare for what he was about to say, “I might have looked into our options for adopting or fostering.” “You did?” “Mmhmm. It’s kinda complicated so we shouldn’t rush into anything and we should probably contact some agencies to ask questions and stuff.” “How complicated are we talking?” “Well, basically, if we want to adopt I think we have to put our names down with an agency and then there’s an interview process and if they think we’re suitable candidates then they’ll put our names in the system and find us a kid. And I guess it depends on the age bracket you’re looking for. I think if we wanted a newborn we’d be more likely to get one through adoption but it might still take a while whereas older kids are a little easier to find, so that’s something we need to consider.” “What about fostering?” “It sounds even more complicated. Like adoption you put your name down and go through an evaluation process but then there’s a few different options. There’s short term fostering where we’d look after kids for a couple of weeks or months while plans for their futures are finalised. Then there’s long term fostering which is usually for kids who can’t go back home but don’t want to be adopted out of their birth families and they mostly stay with you until they’re adults. Emergency fostering is another option which is a few nights or weeks at most but it’s for kids who need to be moved quickly and you don’t always get a lot of warning about them coming to you. And like, there’s possibilities to end up adopting the kid or kids you foster depending on what they want and how it goes.” You puffed your cheeks up with air and slowly blew it out, head swimming with the sudden influx of information, “That does sound complicated.” “Yeah. We’ll really have to consider out options and decide what sort of family we want to have. I think reading about adoption and fostering made me want to do it more though. Cause like...” he paused as he tried to find the right words, “These kids are out there without good homes and I really believe we could give them that.” You noted Ben was getting a little misty eyed, blinking more rapidly to hold back the emotion, so you tried to make him laugh by nudging him and calling him a sap. But you loved seeing how much he cared.  It worked a little as he chuckled softly and shrugged, “Look, either way – adopting or fostering – it's probably not going to be easy. There’s challenges involved in fostering for sure – kids with trauma we won’t be able to understand, kids who are grieving the loss of their birth families or who’ve had bad experiences with other foster carers and who struggle to trust anyone. And the kids who are up for adoption might not have the same problems, especially if they’re younger but, I don’t know, I think finding out you were put up for adoption would leave its own scars. Issues with abandonment and things like that. So I think we have to be really, really sure before we put our names down anywhere. But I also think we could properly help someone doing it, maybe more than one someone. So, if you’re up for it then so am I.” “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” “What are you thinking?” More pros and cons lists?” You both

laughed at that but Ben grabbed your arm, encouraging you to leave your seat and sit on his lap instead. He wrapped his arms around your waist and tilted his head up for a kiss which you gladly gave.  “I’m really happy we’re talking about this,” He almost whispered, squeezing you a little tighter. “Me too. I guess we should start by going through all our options and seeing which ones would suit us best.” "I've got some websites bookmarked and a few documents downloaded so why don't I go get my laptop and you make us a drink and we'll start working through it, okay?" "Okay,"

[lokiitty]

Posting this here so no one floods my rp account w/ stupid shit. This post aint for people who liked episode 5. If you liked it, good for you, I’m happy for you, I wish that were me but heres my issues.

I don’t know if I’m suppose to consider Loki & Sylvie a couple now & at this point I don’t care like I really don’t give a shit anymore do your weird self/incest thing Disney if it makes you happy and makes you feel safe from representing queers then like idk man we dont want your take on Loki anyway. 

Everything they did with Black Loki made me uncomfortable on a level I’m not smart or political enough to explain but what I can say is the only way it would be worse is if someone called him the N-word. I’m a white passing black person & I was squirming in my seat frm being so uncomfy. I can’t remember the last time I was that uncomfy w/ the portrayal of a black character & I think the worst part about it, at least for me, is I’ve spent the whole week imagining him as this “GOOD LOKI” whos nexus event was being worthy of mjolnir or something & woo boy. & You know they’re gonna excuse all that by saying ‘tee hee but hes loki’ like oh my god that could have been handled better. Anyway Id love to see black people talk about this & wonder if they feel the same? 

They've pretty much disproven any idea of Loki being genderfluid. They gave  Sylvie the unicorn treatment LITERALLY because shes a woman/female Loki & thats apparently so unheard of among the Lokis like... Man. You CANNOT sit there & tell me hes genderfluid please STOP giving them credit for something they never did. In fact, theyve undone it. Bc comic Loki & Myth Loki ARE genderfluid. They would never treat a female presenting/iding Loki as weird bc they do so frequently themselves. Marvel/Disney Loki is cis as fuck & theyve gone above & beyond to affirm this. no nb/genderfluid person would act like that guys point blank. 

(Also the idea that what made main!loki better was cos he was in love w/ a “woman” / had an m/f romance on the horizon teehee like I’m sorry the subtext was there.) 

They really went hard on the no-homo treatment for Loki & Mobius. Like even having Sylvie mentioning to Loki that Mobius cares about Loki & Loki shrugging it off (straight up ignoring it) to focus on whatever weird thing he has going on with her. The hug was fine but again it screamed no-homo and I’m just... Im not surprised but I mean mentioning just to add to the pile of why that ep made me feel uncomfy I’m building here. Ive already wrote IN DEPTH about why the whole bait with Loki/Mobius was whack & why it was 100% bait so I don’t have a whole lot to add here. 

Lastly, I think I’ve covered everything so yea, lastly... Old man/classic Loki (as someone who knows classic loki from the comics that was UNEXPECTED) was the best thing to have happened to the entire series & they took him away just like that & I have serious emotions about it. I feel as angry about it as I do about all the actual problematic TM shit I just sat through.  So um. In conclusion. 

[bluewinnerangel]

Hello! I’m a bit new so forgive me if you’ve already answered a similar question before but what do you think about H supposedly making fanfic references in his mv and one more I forgot about? Because the whole concept just seems idk (weird?) to me.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with reading fanfics and I’m sure they’ve read them because L says he’s did in one interview and H doesn’t say anything and there’s one more where L doesn’t say anything but probably Z or Li reacts in a way that gives it away.

Hi!

So this is just my opinion and I think the only people that can really answer this properly are those who have been here from the start and have read many fanfics (and that isn’t me). This because I think it's pretty easy to misinterpret some things he's done by lack of a grasp on how the fandom was build up (if that's the proper word for it) over time / when he started doing/wearing certain things and whatnot. Fanfics are based on some essense of the real person one way or another, and it's often going to have small details that fit what the person has already done or would fit their character, or at least how the writer perceived them. So naturally some writers are going to hit the sweet spot and just describe them pretty well, write them into things they would do or appreciate, or even an aesthetic they vibe with, etc. So I honestly can't tell you the order of events about some of these supposed referencing. With that I mean that even if Harry comes in with something highly specific that was already in a fanfic that's been around for a while, then still that specific thing in the fic was probably already based on something he would do or has done anyway, and we’re just running in circles. So basically I think a lot of small things people claim are fic references are bullshit. That said, I’m making a big exception for TTS because all the coincidoinks with that one are just a little bit too much for me. Like most you can just kinda shrug off but then long after the whole eroda = fair isle shit he goes on to do that vogue shoot in his little fair isle slipover on the TTS’s bnb shore like are you fking kidding me with this shit Harry. 

And to touch upon your comment about the concept seeming weird, you know that thing with Euphoria? They fking visualised and narrated a larry fanfic and then Harry was like lemme show im besties with this director and also follow zendaya (who narrated it)? He thrives in weirdness, he seems to enjoy some form of (sneaky) irony, self-mockery, sarcasm, just basking in the strangeness of it all, turning his life into satire, seeing how far he can take things, whatever the hell he's doing (that I’m all totally here for) really. So I don’t think that of all things reading and appreciating and even referencing fanfics would be a step too far for him. And you know what, I don’t even think it’s weird at all. I think the way the media and GP projects their ideas of him onto him / into the world is probably something weirder to deal with than some fics that are much closer to what he's really like, or at least written in a much more positive way, also just larry i mean, I imagine it might actually be refreshing to read that even, like people are writing/talking about him, actually him (im actually doing it now actually you're reading it now FOURTH WALL) constantly all the time, I really don't see why the idea of him reading fics (and enjoying it so much he wants to reference it / identifies with it / is inspired by it) is then the weird bit. If anything I'd say that's an escape from how he's normally perceived, if that makes sense. This is probably just me tho. My guess is the idea of the actual people a fic is based upon reading it makes some readers (or writers for that matter) uncomfortable, like it's written inside the fandom bubble for the people within that bubble only and should stay there. Maybe, maybe it depends on the fic hah. Anyway! TTS references my beloved always.

[alolowrites]

Everyone’s Got a Sweet Tooth!

Summary: Bakugou hates sweets. You don’t think this is true and begin a mission to discover his favorite candy. After all, you are the brilliant Candy Master who won’t stop until Bakugou’s sweet tooth is satisfied.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I’m so glad I was finally able to write a full fic for Bakugou; it’s been so long. Originally, this was supposed to be for the bingo event, but had trouble fleshing out the story’s direction. I really wanted to write this story since the plot was hilarious to me, idk why. 

Please enjoy!

10.30.21 UPDATE: HI!!!!! I went back and edited the heck out of this baby since it’s my favorite Bakugou story I’ve written. I hope it is now decent lmao. Happy Halloween!! 

Word Count: 2.4K+

“Katsuki, what is the meaning of all this?!”

“The hell are you talkin’ bout?”

“This!” 

You marched with purpose and plopped down on the couch where he sat. Bakugou remained unfazed, clicking on the remote control. He mindlessly surfed through the channels with an attention span of an HR recruiter combing through a mountain pile of resumes. Stupid sitcoms, fake ass “reality” tv shows, QVC advertising their products like it's Black Friday all day, every day. Bakugou frowned—why does he pay so much for these useless channels? 

His eyes teared away from the screen as the phone waved frantically on his left. 

You huffed. “According to Maximus Heroes, you—and I quote—‘bleeping hate sweets!’”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Damn idiots censored my words.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?”

“That you hate sweets!” 

You viciously smacked a pillow at him, ignoring his yells. Bakugou snatched the weapon with a growl. For a soft pillow, it felt like a firm foam roller. You stood up and paced around, arms flailing in the air. 

“How can my boyfriend say such a thing?!” You pointed at your signature black top hat. “Do you know who I am? I’m the lovable Candy Master, CEO of the Candy Basket Factory!” 

Bakugou shrugged. “So?”

“So, you can’t say you hate sweets!” You gripped your chest, sniffling a bit. “I feel as though I’ve been betrayed.”

“Would you sit your ass down?” 

Bakugou tossed the pillow at you and crossed his arm; he was too tired to deal with this nonsense. Somehow the QVC channel looked more appealing now. You begrudgingly plopped on the couch, a small pout growing on your face. Bakugou snuck a glance and sighed, tossing the remote aside. 

“Are you seriously so upset about this?” Instant regret flooded through his mind as he remembered that ridiculous day. “It was a freakin’ answer to a stupid question in a stupid celebrity article.” 

“…maybe…”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. You took off your signature hat and examined it; the hat was firm yet soft and had three peppermint candies artistically attached like a beautiful brooch. You moped silently for an eternity until an exciting idea rushed into your mind. Bakugou jumped as you squealed, his mouth ready for snarl, but you beat him to the punch. 

“I got it!” Two hands eagerly cupped his sharp cheeks, your whimsical eyes meeting his feral ones. They did nothing to damper your beaming smile. “You don’t hate sweets; you just haven’t found your favorite candy!”

Bakugou grabbed your wrist yet didn’t pull them away. Another giggle rang throughout the living room as you shot up from the sofa. A specific look crossed your face—one that both irked and frightened Bakugou to no end; he was through dealing with your shenanigans. 

“Whatever you’re thinkin’ about, the answer is no!”

“Too late! The mind is churning,” you piped, taking a cheerful step toward the doorway. Spinning on your heel, you gave a hat tip to Bakugou and declared, “I won’t rest until that sweet tooth of yours is satisfied!” 

Yup, it was too late. Bakugou had no choice but to go along with this dumb idea. Closing his eyes, he slammed a pillow over his face and screamed.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Ground Zero’s hero agency was buzzing with life. Phones rang off the hook, yet all were answered to avoid the voicemail machine. Interns carried endless stacks of papers, their dying arms begging for relief and fingers stinging from brutal paper cuts. The afternoon shift sidekicks clocked in their arrival while the morning ones yawned out the door.

Everything ran like a well-oiled machine, just how Bakugou liked it. He took great pride in this, hiring only the best and brightest. However, none of them held a candle against him—the number two pro hero. Unfortunately, being a prominent hero brought lots of reports he needed to sign.

And he was not excited about this.

“Um, sir?”

“Damnit, Small Head,” Bakugou growled, halting his pen’s movement. Fiery eyes glared at the man peeking around the ajar door. “If you bring me another paper to sign, I will stab this pen in your damn eye!”

“I-I assure you that I bring no reports, sir!” Kioshi, Bakugou’s personal assistant, waddled inside the office, fixing the tie that was strangling his neck. He slid a peculiar package toward his boss and bowed his head. “You have a special delivery from the Candy Master.”  

Bakugou scrunched his eyebrows. On his desk was a white box with an orange ribbon wrapped neatly in the upper left corner. A tiny card sat underneath it, and with closer inspection, had his first name written across in gold letters. Bakugou shooed Kioshi away, waiting to hear the door close to ensure absolute privacy.

At first, Bakugou had a mini stare-down with the gift. When it didn’t burst into flames, he sucked his breath and snatched the card. Bakugou turned it around to read the following message:

Everyone knows you got a sour attitude, but only I get to see that sweet side of yours. Figured these treats might do the trick. I made them just for you!

Enjoy,

C.M

P.S. These are an ~exclusive~ batch from my top-secret collection! So hush-hush!

Bakugou snorted at your writing, tossing the card aside and opening the box. His eyes narrowed at the vibrant gumdrops nestled above the black tissue paper. White sugar lightly coated the green and orange candies, each twinkling under the natural light that shined through his large window. A smirk curled on his lips; the whole package reflected his hero costume.

“Let’s see how good these are.”

Bakugou ate the green gumdrop. It was chewy and sour, the lime flavor making him twitch a bit. The sweetness kicked in ten seconds later. Bakugou tried the orange gumdrop next, and the acid was strong too but enjoyable. He soon devoured the entire box in one sitting.

Once that was done, he marched out of the office to start his daily patrol. It didn’t take long for a stupid thug to cross his path. Bakugou slammed him against the concrete wall, hauling him up with just one hand. The man trembled in fear but stopped squirming and cocked his head to the side, dumbfounded. 

Bakugou growled. “What the hell are you looking at?”

“Your tongue...it got weird colors, man.”

“Eh? The fuck are you talking ‘bout?” 

Bakugou peeked at his reflection on the store’s window. He recoiled when he saw the horrible swirls of green and orange covering his tongue. A vicious scowl crossed Bakugou’s face, his iron grip tightening around the thug’s collar. The guy’s high-pitched yelps fell on deaf ears. 

“Fuckin’ gumdrops!”

They were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“I don’t want it.”

“But, sir, the gift—”

“I know who it’s from, and I’m telling you no.”

“Sir,” Kioshi gripped the massive, cherry red treat in his hand. A black ribbon with long strings almost reached the floor. The assistant sighed. “It’s just a lollipop.”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ baby to ya?” Bakugou crossed his arms, refusing to budge on his childish decision. The irony made Kioshi roll his eyes mentally. “Give it away or something. Now get out.”

“Yes, sir…”

Lollipops were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Another day, another gift Bakugou received from you.

They came sporadically and kept the hero on his toes. He never understood why you sent the gifts directly to his office; you both lived in the same apartment for crying out loud! Worst of all, he could never get a single hint on what candy he would receive next. Every time he asked—or more accurately, demanded—you shot him a coy smile and purred, “Ah, ah, ah! It’s a surprise!”

Bakugou wanted to rip his eyeballs out.

However, he reluctantly played along with your stupid game. Whenever Kioshi entered his office, Bakugou masked his slight interest with the usual scowl. If the assistant didn’t bring candy, then Bakugou blamed him for interrupting his private time. The anger was worse if Kioshi brought more reports for him to sign.

Kioshi was thankful for the days when a new candy gift arrived.

Unfortunately, the last three gifts were complete failures. The first was the strawberry licorice, which dangled in Bakugou’s hand. He took a few bites and complained that he was eating a rubber wheel. Next was a bag of colorful gummy worms. Bakugou shoved a couple in his mouth and swore he felt one of them move on its own. Finally, there was the lemon green jawbreaker; it was the size of a baseball. One look and Bakugou shouted over the phone: “You tryna give me dentures?!”

All three candies were crossed off the list. Still, you didn’t give up and sent another gift to Bakugou. He read the simple message on the card:

Chew and blow to your heart’s content, babe!

Love,

C.M

P.S. I promise this won’t change the color on your tongue, haha!

Bakugou opened the sleek, rectangular box and found a bubble gum packet inside; there were three thin pieces. He slipped one in his mouth, surprisingly pleased with the bold raspberry flavor hitting his taste buds. Bakugou skimmed the card again and did as instructed—he chewed.

Typically, an ordinary bubble gum would lose its flavor after five minutes. But the flavor in your gum only got juicier; it encouraged Bakugou to continue chewing. He then blew a tiny bubble before popping it in his mouth. Not bad, he thought as another bubble expanded in front of him. His chews became more aggressive, and the bubbles more prominent than the previous ones. Stupidly, he puffed out a massive bubble, and it grew…

…and grew…and grew until there was a loud pop.

Bakugou’s roars shook the entire building, spilling cold tea all over Kioshi’s shirt. 

Bubble gum was crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Everything was going well down at the Candy Basket Factory. People lined up outside for the magical tours that ran every hour. Kids bounced off the walls as if they were on a sugar rush while their parents felt a migraine pounding on their heads. Inside the factory, the ceilings were high, and the walls were vibrant like the sun. Laughter rang from every corner as employees chit-chatted about their daily lives; they were relaxed yet efficiently worked to the same drumbeat.

A soft smile crept on your face. You were glad everyone was happy; it was the driving force behind your factory’s joyful spirit. Eventually, that spirit would leave these doors and touch billions of people’s hearts with your precious candies.

Just as you closed your eyes, someone barged into your office and barked your name. You chuckled, spinning the leather chair around to meet a furious Bakugou. His nostrils flared like a bull, and his menacing eyes looked ready to kill. However, the gum’s blobs stuck on his porcupine blonde hair squashed the pro hero’s intimidating aura.

“You—”

“—I’m so sorry, boss!” Nozomi panted into the room, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “I tried stopping him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“It’s quite alright, Zomi!” You chirped without breaking Bakugou’s intense eye contact. “I can handle him. Please let everyone know I’ll be busy with an important meeting.”

Nozomi bowed and closed the door behind her. Bakugou wasted no time complaining, his hands slamming on your desk. 

“Quit sending me your cavity-infested garbage! I’ve had it with this fuckin’ game.”

“Oh, come on, babe!” You rolled forward and rested your chin on your gloved hand palm. “Can’t I just send my dashing boyfriend some sweet gifts? Get it!” You jokingly slapped his forearm. “Because candies are sweet? Man, I crack myself up at times…”

“You’re insufferable.”  

You winked at him. “But that’s what you love about me!”

Bakugou gritted his teeth and looked away. A light blush tainted his cheeks; he hated how right you were. You walked around the desk and stood beside him, wiping off the fairy sugar dust on his shirt. He probably barged through the sample stand near the entrance, scaring off the poor intern. 

“Alright, alright.” You gave a gentle pat. “Sorry for going a little overboard with the gifts. I was just excited about finding your favorite candy! I don’t want you hating them.”

Bakugou’s anger subsided. “Why is this so damn important to you?”

“Because I love spreading endless joy through sweets.” 

The answer was simple and innocent. Bakugou blinked and was taken aback by the gentleness in your eyes. 

“Candy makes everyone happy,” you chirped. “Knowing someone’s favorite candy helps me bring their smile back whenever they’re upset or lost. Can’t have the world be all mopey now, can we?”

Your fingers hovered above Bakugou’s head. The gum moved under your command and floated in the air. You flicked it into the trash bin with ease, and Bakugou murmured a quick ‘thanks’ under his breath. After ruffling his hair, you suddenly remembered something sitting on your shelf. Bakugou stared at the small pyramid of chocolate truffles coming toward him.

“I made these babies a few minutes ago,” you said, eying the plate with a proud grin. “Normally, I do a taste test and then send the gift if it satisfies my expectations. But, I got a feeling you’ll love them.”  

Bakugou’s face was unreadable. You gave him a gentle nudge and encouraged him to take one. He sighed before picking a chocolate truffle; it was warm and soft, the cocoa powder dusting his fingertips. After suspiciously staring at the truffle, he ate the entire thing in one go. His eyes widened as all the flavors exploded at once. The crushed red pepper flakes, the hints of rich cinnamon and orange zest, and the bittersweet dark chocolate made from the finest quality found on Earth all danced perfectly together with every bite. 

“So…” You placed the plate on the desk, watching Bakugou swallow the truffle down. “What do you think? Give me your honest opinion! Don’t sugarcoat it, haha! I’m on fire today!”

Bakugou turned away. “I’m leaving.”

“No, wait!” You hugged his bicep with a pout. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Just tell me if you liked the chocolate truffles.”  

“They’re good.”

Your smile grew. “Good enough to be your favorite?”

“Sure,” he smirked, shoving another truffle into his mouth. You cheered on the spot after weeks of constant failures. Of course, some of the complaints were nonsense which didn’t surprise you. Bakugou was a picky bastard; the lollipop fiasco served as a great example. You were glad he thoroughly enjoyed the chocolate truffles.

Before you walked away, Bakugou pulled you close to him and crushed his lips on yours. He caught you off guard, but the surprise was certainly welcomed. You soon melted into the kiss after tasting the rich dark chocolate and spices on his lips. Bakugou’s arms snaked around your waist as your hands gripped his broad shoulders.

“You know,” Bakugou’s hot breath tickled your right ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I think I got a new favorite candy.”

“Is that so?” You hummed, a coy smile plastered on your face. 

“Let’s hope it satisfies your sweet tooth then, Ground Zero.”

“Oh, it will.”

After all, you were the one and only Candy Master.

As always, thanks for reading!

10.18.20 UPDATE: Story’s sequel, Gold Coins and a Gold Heart now uploaded.