#someone complained about me at work because i left her a handful of dishes to do

[warmdrpepper]

closing shift could solve world hunger but it still wouldnt be enough for openers because a box was left open somewhere

[parkerslatte]

Finding Home || Part Eight

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: smut. fingering. blowjob. masterbation.

Summary: Y/N goes out on her date and leaves Azriel alone. When she returns, she admits something to him she wouldn’t have when she was sober.

Finding Home Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

When Y/N left that morning, the smile fell from Azriel’s face. It was the day of her date and all he wanted to do was get on his hands and knees and beg her to go with him instead. To distract himself, Azriel cleaned around Y/N’s apartment. 

He cleaned and tidied even if he didn’t need to. Anything to get his mind off of Y/N’s date that night. He had checked in with Feyre when he woke that morning about how the painting was going. Apparently painting takes time and Azriel shouldn't rush her. He huffed out a laugh and continued to fold the blanket he had in his hands. 

The more Azriel cleaned dishes, washed down Y/N’s countertops and sorted everything out, he began to feel a slight pain in his chest. This should be the life he should have had years ago. Azriel never considered himself a domestic person, preferring the life of training and working. But the moment his family all found their mates and true love and began to talk to him about what happened the previous night. When Cassian complained about the chores he had to do when the House of Wind sided with Nesta in an argument (which was all the time). When Rhys and Feyre would come into a meeting tired and talked about staying up all night because Nyx wouldn’t settle. When Mor announced that she and Emerie were moving in together. 

Azriel had no escape from the happiness around him. He hadn’t had to bring someone to his dungeon in Hewn City in nearly ten months. The missions he was sent on didn’t take up nearly the same amount of time they normally did but sometimes Azriel would find ways to stretch them out. 

After constantly craving work and training, Azriel couldn’t believe that he was now sorting out Y/N’s cutlery and finding himself enjoying it. Maybe he was finally maturing at his big age. Maybe it made him feel useful. Azriel knew the real answer but didn’t want to admit it to himself. 

He continued to dote around the apartment. 

***

When Y/N returned that evening, she was shocked to see Azriel making dinner. He wore her apron and bit his lip in concentration. 

“What are you making?” Y/N asked, knocking Azriel out of his concentration. 

“Dinner,” Azriel said. “I don’t know exactly what but I remember you mentioning it once.”

“It smells amazing,” Y/N said, walking over to join him at his side. 

“I am not just a pretty face,” Azriel teased. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Who told you that?”

“I know you’ve been thinking it,” Azriel retorted. 

Y/N held his gaze for a moment before clearing her throat and looked away. “I need to get ready for my date. Try not to burn the building down.”

As Y/N left the kitchen, Azriel watched her walk away, feeling a tightening in his chest. He ignored it and went back to preparing his dinner. 

***

Azriel served up his dinner onto a plate, feeling extremely excited to eat it. Just as he pulled out the chair to sit—

“Az,” Y/N called from her bedroom. “I need help!”

Azriel got to his feet instantly and walked the short distance to her bedroom. He lightly pushed open the door. “Yes?”

“I need you to help me lace the rest of my dress up,” Y/N said, opening the door for him. “I managed to get the bottom part done but I can’t reach any further.”

The moment she was revealed to him, Azriel’s mouth opened in shock. Standing before him was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. Her dress was a deep crimson and flowed around her legs effortlessly. With every movement the dress moved around her like dancing flames.  

“Eyes up here, soldier,” Y/N teased. 

“I—I…” Azriel said, unable to get any words out. 

“I guess I look okay?” Y/N said. 

Azriel could only nod as he stepped further into the room as if enchanted by her. 

A laugh slipped past Y/N’s lips as she turned her back to Azriel. He simply stepped up and placed his hands on the two ribbons on the back of her dress. 

As he began to lace up the dress, he couldn’t help but inhale the scent of Y/N’s perfume. It was intoxicating to him. He began to pull the ribbons tighter, winching in the dress for her. His fingertips brushed her bare back and Azriel savoured the touch. 

Once he was done, Flavi turned around with a wide smile. “Thank you,” she said brightly and Azriel thought she couldn’t be more stunning. 

“You’re welcome,” Azriel muttered, his voice low and wanting. 

“I need your genuine opinion though,” Y/N said, stepping back, her fingers fiddling with her necklace, which Azriel was sure was more pink than it was a second ago. “Do I wear these earrings or other ones? I don’t think these go with the dress.” 

The earrings did go with the dress but Azriel pretended to look to have an excuse to admire her for a moment longer. 

Azriel suddenly gasped. “Wait here!”

He rushed from Y/N’s bedroom and to his bag in the corner of the living room. He had hidden the small box containing the earrings there after they had returned from the market. He quickly took them and returned to Y/N’s bedroom. 

“I know that you will most likely be mad at me,” Azriel began, “but just know that I haggled for them.”

He revealed the box to Y/N and she took it with unsure hands. “This isn’t a trick is it? It’s not going to turn into a large monster and eat me alive.”

Azriel laughed. “Just open it.”

A gasp left Y/N the moment she opened the box. “Azriel you didn’t…”

“I did,” Azriel said sheepishly. 

“But I told you not to spend so much money on me,” Y/N said. 

“And I didn’t listen,” Azriel replied. He wouldn’t admit to Y/N that he paid even more than the price he offered Y/N. 

“But—“ Y/N said, not being able to find the words. 

Instead she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Azriel stiffened for a moment and Y/N began to pull away. 

“Sorry,” Y/N said. 

Azriel wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her back tightly, burying his head into the crook of her neck. “Don’t apologise.”

“Thank you so much, Azriel,” Y/N muttered. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” Azriel replied. 

The hug lingered for a brief moment more before Y/N pulled away first and turned to her mirror to put the earrings on. “There. Perfect.”

Y/N turned around. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,”

Y/N smiled. “I should get going. The restaurant is about a twenty minute walk. I don’t want to be late.”

Azriel nodded. “Have fun.”

“I will,” Y/N said. “Don’t burn down my apartment.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “I’ll try not to.”

With a parting smile, Y/N picked up her small bag and left the room. He heard the front door open and close. Azriel was left alone once more. 

He calmed his racing heartbeat and left Y/N’s bedroom and returned to his dinner. It didn’t look so appetising anymore, reminding him too much of the meals he ate on his own when his family was busy. 

Azriel reached for the bottle of alcohol and poured it into a glass. He finished it one go. He poured another one immediately. Azriel began to eat his dinner in complete silence. 

***

The alcohol had gone to Azriel’s brain. He wasn’t drunk but he was sure that if he finished off the bottle, he would be. Reluctantly Azriel placed the bottle down and slumped against the couch. His dinner was long gone and he was left with nothing to do. 

Y/N had been gone for nearly two hours and Azriel’s shadows became restless as if they were looking for her. He didn’t try to stop them. 

Y/N wasn’t due back for another couple of hours so the moment she stepped into her apartment, Azriel was shocked. 

“You’re early,” Azriel commented. 

Y/N laughed humorously. “I would have been earlier if I didn’t stick around the restaurant and had dinner on my own since he never showed up.”

Azriel’s head snapped to face her. “He didn’t show up.”

Y/N kicked off her shoes, stumbling slightly. “No. I stood outside of that restaurant for forty five minutes before I went in to see about the reservation. He didn’t even make it like he told me he would.”

“I’m sorry,” Azriel said sincerely. “I knew you were excited.”

Y/N slumped down on the couch next to him. “Everyone in that restaurant looked at me in pity as I say on my own. It was embarrassing. The restaurant gave me a free bottle of wine too.”

Azriel’s shadows swarmed around Y/N’ lightly caressing her skin. A small smile was brought to her lips. 

“I’m sure he wasn’t worth your time,” Azriel said. 

“He probably wasn’t,” Y/N said. “But I was hoping to…no it’s embarrassing to admit.”

“What?” Azriel asked. 

“No, I can’t,” Y/N said. 

“It’s unlike you to get embarrassed around me,” Azriel said. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “No. But this is just embarrassing to admit to anyone.”

“You can tell me,” Azriel said. 

Y/N sighed. “I am probably only telling you this because I’ve had a whole bottle of wine to myself.”

Azriel chuckled quietly. 

“I didn’t go on this date to find the love of my life,” Y/N said. “I only went because I’ve just been so…pent up recently. And I cannot give myself the satisfaction I need.”

“Oh,” Azriel said. 

“See, it’s an embarrassing thing to admit,” Y/N muttered. 

“It’s not embarrassing,” Azriel replied. “It’s normal.”

“It’s not embarrassing that I cannot satisfy myself so I turn to the first male in years to ask me on a date to reach that satisfaction,” Y/N said before groaning. “I just feel on edge right now.”

Y/N turned and looked at Az. He could feel the heat in her eyes and the pent up frustration. The burning desire in her eyes. 

He wasn’t sure what overcame him. 

“I could help with that,” Azriel offered. 

“What?” Y/N said. 

Azriel shrugged. “I will admit that I have been pent up for a while too. And since we both have been quite…pent up for a while. We could help one another. We trust one another.”

“Is this a serious offer, Az,” Y/N said. “Because if you are just telling a really shitty joke—“

“It’s not a joke,” Azriel replied, his hand inching towards hers. 

“So you are being serious?” Y/N asked. 

“Yes,” Azriel replied, his voice quiet and breathless. 

“I…” Y/N said, her eyes roaming around Azriel’s face. 

She didn’t say anything else as she surged forward and pressed her lips against Azriel’s. He could taste the drink on her tongue. Sweet compared to the bitter drink he had consumed. It only made him kiss her harder. His hands tangled in her hair, gripping tight. Y/N groaned into his mouth. 

“Fuck, Az,” Y/N gasped, manovering to straddle his hips, her dress bunching around her waist. 

Azriel kissed her again and pressed his body against hers, feeling every inch of her. His hands cupped her ass and squeezed tightly. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her body. He craved to touch her. 

With haste, Y/N began to unbutton the shirt Azriel wore to expose his warm skin. 

“Eager,” Azriel commented, his pupils blown wide with lust.

“Never too eager, my love,” Y/N said breathlessly, ripping the shirt from his body and throwing it to the floor. 

The moment Azriel felt Y/N’s hands on his chest, he let out a deep growl. His hands gripped her thighs and felt under the dress until he squeezed her bare hips.

“No underwear?” Azriel asked.

“I was expecting to get lucky tonight,” Y/N said. 

“You are,” Azriel said and crashed his lips against hers once more. Teeth clashed, tongues explored each other's mouths and Azriel couldn’t help but think of how right it felt. 

The sleeve of Y/N’s dress fell down her shoulder and exposed the top of her breast. The hunger within Azriel only grew. He unlaced Y/N’s dress easily and it grew loose around her upper body. Y/N’s hands instantly pressed against her chest to preserve her modesty. 

Azriel’s eyes softened. “It’s just me.”

Y/N nodded before she kissed him and allowed her dress to fall away. 

Azriel couldn’t take his eyes away from Y/N’s bare form as he touched what he could, pulling sweet noises from her lips. 

“You’re perfect,” Azriel muttered against her skin.

“Look who’s talking,” Y/N said, tracing the tattoos on his chest. 

Azriel kissed her again and began to move his hands closer to the inner part of her thighs and higher. Y/N let out a whine. Azriel could already feel the heat coming from her. The wetness gathered between her legs. Azriel could smell it and he needed her now. 

“Are you still sure, Y/N?” Azriel asked. 

“Yes,” Y/N gasped for air. “Please, Azriel, just touch me.”

This time Azriel pulled her in for a sweet kiss and slowly moved his fingers to gather the wetness between her thighs, feeling along the folds of her pussy and slowly sank in two fingers. Azriel’s eyes rolled to the back of his head the moment he felt her squeeze around him. The warmth, the tightness. It was all he ever imagined. 

“Oh, fuck,” Y/N whined. 

“Y/N…” Azriel gasped, his hips jerking, wanting friction on his cock desperately. 

“Fuck me, Az,” Y/N continued to whine as gasp and Azriel set a slow pace, his thumb hovering over her clit. 

Y/N’s hips twitched, seemingly seeking more. 

Azriel pressed open mouthed kisses on her chest anc up her neck and sped up his pace. The grip Y/N had on his shoulders tightened and her nails dug in. Azriel craved more. 

“More. Give me more, Azriel,” Y/N cried. “Fucking hells, give me more.”

Azriel complied and slipped another finger alongside his other two. Y/N panted against his mouth. 

“Ride my fingers,” Azriel said, his voice low and unrestrained. 

Y/N moved her hips faster and harder, chasing after the orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Azriel panted, rolling her nipple between his fingers causing Y/N to arch her back.

“Feels good,” Y/N whined, trying to get more friction on her clit. Azriel’s thumb barely touched it making Y/N more frustrated by the minute. 

“Imagine how it would feel with my cock instead,” Azriel whispered, letting the words roll off his tongue without thinking. “Imagine how it would fill you up, stretch this tight pussy for me.”

“Azriel,” Y/N whimpered. “Please I need more.”

At her sounds of pleasure, Azriel’s cock strained in his trousers. He was sure that he could finish just from the sounds emitting from Y/N. 

Azriel pressed his thumb harder against her clit and Y/N cried out, pulling at his hair. Azriel groaned at the feeling. 

“Yes, Az, right there,” Y/N panted. “Harder, please…”

Azriel circled her clit as he kissed down her neck, finding each and every sweet spot to pull more of the delicious noises from her mouth. 

“I’m close, Az,” Y/N said, pulling his head from her neck to meet her lips. “I need to come. Please…”

Y/N’s breath caressed his lips and she rested her forehead against his as she began to move her hips faster on his fingers, chasing that orgasm she had been desperately craving. 

“Come for me, Y/N,” Azriel said, his lips brushing against hers. “I need to feel you coming on my fingers.”

“Oh, Az,” Y/N gasped as she threw her head back and Azfriel could then feel as she came hard over him. Her pussy squeezed his fingers and Azriel could only imagine what it would feel like around his cock which was harder than it had ever been. 

“Fuck…” Y/N whined before she crashed her lips against Azriel’s, riding out her high. 

As her hips stilled, Y/N pulled away from Azriel’s lips, breathing hard. Azriel was sure he was breathing the same. 

He slowly removed his fingers from her and Y/N gasped, her grip tightening on his shoulders. Azriel wished he could see the sight before him tattoos onto his brain. 

Azriel wasn’t sure what took over his body as he slowly licked his fingers clean. The moment he had a taste, Azriel craved more. He imagined what it would be like to sink to his knees and bury his face between her thighs. He could only dream of the taste. 

“Azriel…” Y/N whined. 

Azriel removed his fingers from his mouth and leaned forward, his hands gently squeezing her hips. 

“Y/N…” Azriel whispers, resting his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes, revelling in her closeness for a moment longer. He knew that this moment between them would be broken soon enough and all Azriel wanted was to remember the feeling. Remember how Y/N made him feel. 

The moment was broken too soon as Y/N pulled away from him. Azriel's hands reached out for her as she got further from him. He missed the warmth she brought. 

Y/N shuffled so she kneeled on the floor. She gently touched Azriel’s knees and parted them to allow her to sit between them, never breaking eye contact. 

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked.

“Returning the favour,” Y/N replied. 

Before Azriel could process anything, Y/N unlaced his trousers and the moment her hand brushed over his clothes cock, his hips jerked, seeking more contact. 

She pulled him out of his trousers and Azriel gasped as her warm hands wrapped around him. He gripped the pillow next to him, knuckles turning white. 

“Y/N…” Azriel gasped. “Fuck….”

“I didn’t know how much my touch would affect you,” Y/N said, her breath brushing over his cock as she massaged the head. 

Azriel didn’t want her to know how much her touch affected him but right now, all of his restraints flew out of the window. Shameless gasps and whines left Azriel as he lightly thrust his hips up, seeking more touch. 

The moment Azriel felt the warm heat of Y/N’s mouth made Azriel whine and grip tightly onto her hair, pulling her further onto his cock. 

All restraint left Azriel’s body as he succumbed to his pleasure. It had been a while since someone else had brought him such enjoyment. For the past few years it had just been him and his hand. He had never had the desire to seek pleasure elsewhere. He always had a false hope that the next person he let into his bed would be the one he was destined to be with. Azriel could never get over the disappointment when they left the very next morning with no note, vanishing from Azriel’s life. 

Azriel came without warning, shooting his load down Y/N’s throat. She made a small noise of surprise and Azriel expected her to pull away and spit. But Y/N did the complete opposite. She pulled her mouth so she sucked on just the tip as Azriel continued to come. 

Once she pulled away from his cock, Y/N swallowed and Azriel let out a deep moan and surged forward and kissed her. He didn’t care that he could taste himself. He needed the feeling of her lips on his to ground himself otherwise he was sure he wouldn’t be able to claw his way out of the haze of desire falling over him. 

Y/N kissed back eagerly and situated herself on top of his lap, draping her arms across his shoulders. His hands gently caressed her hips. She pulled away first and Azriel only wanted to pull her back and never let her go. 

The two sat in silence for a moment and it was in that moment where Azriel realised what they had just done. It was at that moment where Azriel realised that Y/N wasn’t just a friend to him. No, they had just passed the barrier of friendship. 

Y/N slowly removed her arms from where they were positioned around his neck. She seemed slightly unsure of herself as she stood to her feet. 

“Thank you, Azriel,” Y/N said, her voice strangely distant.

“Anytime,” Azriel said, and Y/N had no clue about how much he meant it. 

Y/N collected her dress from the floor and covered herself up with it. Azriel hated how shy she suddenly became. As she turned back to Azriel, he had hope in his heart as she leaned down to kiss his cheek, letting it linger. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said before turning around and walking down the hall to her bedroom without another word. 

Azriel covered his face with his hand and sighed. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. The scene replayed in his mind and he couldn’t think of anything else. The scent of her perfume lingered in the air. His cock took an interest once more. 

Azriel sighed, trying to refrain himself but the moment he remembered Y/N’s blissed out look as her eyes rolled back as she came, the eye contact as she had her lips wrapped around him, she sigh of delight she let out as she swallowed everything he had to offer, Azriel’s hand was steadily pumping himself. He tried to keep his small sounds of pleasure quiet. He placed his other hand over his mouth and he pumped faster conjuring up scenarios in his mind all containing Y/N. 

He needed to feel her wrapped around him, the tight heat consuming his very being. He needed it desperately. He needed it more than he needed anything else in his over five hundred years of existence. 

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for Azriel to come once more, spilling over his hand. Azriel panted quietly as his head rested on the back of the couch. Now that he had just a small taste of Y/N, he was sure he would never want another female again. He only ever wanted to hear her sounds of pleasure. He only ever wanted to feel her touch, her kiss. 

Her love. 

Azriel only wanted to wake up with her in the mornings. He only wanted to hold her close as they both read the same book. He only ever wanted to walk hand in hand with her through Velaris, proudly showing her off to everyone who would look his way. He wanted to take care of her when she was sick. He wanted to sing her to sleep when she awoke from a nightmare. He wanted to listen to her play her violin and allow his shadows to dance around her, caressing her body and soul. He wanted to show his love to her with every action he did.

Azriel only wanted Y/N’s love. 

***

Y/N softly closed her bedroom door behind her. She threw the dress to the ground and walked to her bed. She could already feel the wetness between her thighs. It had started happening the moment Azriel caressed her hip with the gentlest touch as she sat down. 

Y/N sighed and flopped down on her bed. She vowed that this would only be something to satisfy her needs. But those needs still needed to be met. Slowly, her hand trailed down her body and in between her legs. 

As she touched herself she only thought about Azriel’s touch on her body, how he made her feel. The gentle yet assertive feel of his touch. She craved more…and that was dangerous. 

Y/N gasped as she came, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle the noise. She rose out her high before relaxing fully into the bed. 

Her chest moved up and down in heavy breaths. She was sure she had never felt this good in her life. She could still feel the phantom touch of Azriel’s hands on her skin. Goosebumps covered her body. 

Deep down, Y/N knew that the only reason why what happened between them even happened was because they were both intoxicated. She could taste the bitter taste of the alcohol Azriel had consumed on his lips. Neither of them were thinking with their full brain. 

Y/N sighed. 

In the morning, she would pretend that it didn’t happen. 

No matter how much she wished it would happen again. 

Taglist:

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[cherry-pop-elf]

Chronic Tonic

Wolverine x Reader x Deadpool

Authors note: I’m taking advantage of all this hype to bring awareness to chronic pain, because we know this bitches have it. ((Written by someone who suffers from it

Warnings: Canon typical violence (so it’s gonna get gorey), disabilities, domestic fluff, pain, blood, gore, Logan and Wade loving each other in their own way, Blind Al being iconic and a worried mom, DogPool being a angel, and heavy talk about disabilities and disability awareness

“Honey, mind coming to help me with the dishes?” You would hear Al call for you. You swore you were the only person she treated you with that Black Mama Magic with. As if you could complain. Suppose having company helps soften you up.

You had recently properly moved into the apartment. A bit cramped now, but given how often Wade and Logan went off to do super hero work it didn’t really matter. You knew deep down Al was happy to have you move in. Even if she doesn’t show it. Same for Mary Puppins, who loved to show she loved your attention.

“Sure thing Miss Althea!” You called back, as you would return Mary to her little dog bed. She gave a whine of protest, only to hush up when you tucked her in with one of Wade’s hoodies. Smelled like her daddy’s, so she was contented to nap time.

“You don’t have to keep calling me Althea-“ She would laugh, as you would enter the kitchen. Quick to already start drying them off, or working on the plates Althea didn’t quick get clean enough. She had a dish washer, but being able to do normal things can be soothing. You knew she was a little worried about her boys. She had her ways of showing it.

“Well I wanna, so-“ That had her laugh at your smart off tone. Was like Wade was in the apartment still. Had her sigh, as you two held your routine perfectly. You often helped her, but in the ways that soothed her. Such as not immediately dropping everything whenever she called for you, or babied her when she was struggling with something. Actually treated her as what she was. A person, who needed different types of help. Simple as that.

“I don’t know if it’s the damn arthritis’s, or just that mama sense I got, but I feel it in my bones. That nerve ache that something bass gonna happen. Maybe we should get the towels out of the laundry-“ Althea would tell you, as you frowned. Wade and Logan were practically immortal. They had to be fine, right?

That’s when the stench of blood smacked you in the face.

It hit you long before they reached the door. Nearly dropped the bowl in your hand, as it just filled your lungs. That intense iron. Althea gave a ‘I knew it-!’ Huff, as she was already walking to grab the needed towels. While you yourself were wondering how she didn’t even so much twitch a nose at it. Maybe the cocaine finally wore it down.

“Get the door for them! And a mop!” Althea called to you, as you brought your shirt to cover your mouth. It was just a suffocating stench. Was like walking into a morgue, where all the war time soldiers came to rot. Wonder how bad it must be for Logan with his heighten sense. Then again, he’s probs used to it by now.

When you opened the door you nearly threw up. The smell was so bad, had you gagging. Now you understood why Althea always left febreez and a face mask next to the door. You strapped that shit on like it was a gun to your belt. You were gonna need it, especially with how banged up they were.

Wade wasn’t even in one piece. His upper torso was tossed over Logan’s shoulder, as he would drag the lower half by the ankle with him. The sight of dangling organs made you feel faint. The internal parts being on the outside was rather distracting from the fact Logan was literally missing half his face. Was like some terminator shit.

“We’re back~!” Wade would sing, as Logan would toss the broken bundle of body parts onto the couch. He himself just sat in an arm chair. That was sweet, you had to admit. Letting Wade have the couch. Least that’s what would cross your mind when you weren’t trying to keep from vomiting.

“Don’t go puking on me. I don’t need eyes to know they be fucked up. Come on, let Mama show you how it’s done. Come on-“ Al would grab your arm, as she would use the side of the couch to help find her way around. Logan tried to be sneaky, and used his foot to push the coffee table away for her. So she didn’t trip. You noticed that. That didn’t sneak by you.

“Yeah, this is why I hate Magicians. Like come on man. Not even a cool spell like Sectumsempra. Just a damn ax. Lame to the L TO THE A TO THE M E-!” Wade you whine, as Al would try and figure out what needed to be done today. As if she wanted to deal with baby legs again.

“Not your PotterHead bullshit again, you fucking nerd-“ Logan would complain, before DogPool would jump into his lap. With a rag in her mouth. Wanting to help him out. The gesture was appreciated, as he rewarded her a ruffle to her fluffy head.

“Alright, here’s how you put a body together. If I can do it you can do it. Not like you can fuck up. Just gotta get it good enough, and that damn healing factor does the rest. Don’t faint on me, baby.” Al would comfort you, before she would guide your hands to the torso.

Was quite the adventure, but it was going to be a needed skill after all. It’s important to make sure they heal up as fast as possible. You never know when you’ll be ambushed, or some other wild plot point that makes you stressed. Not to mention that being a throuple meant getting used to this.

With taking a breather at the butchered surgery, you would stand up to look at Logan. Most of his face had actually healed over already. Well, the muscle anyway. He may not have been as bad off as Wade but you wanted to make sure he was doing ok all the same.

“Don’t give me those doe eyes. I’ll be fine, kid. Nothing we can’t handle. We’re gonna be fine. You did your job. Go wash up. Don’t want to know what the hell you’ll catch.” He tried to act like this wasn’t something painful, but you knew. You knew he’s hurting badly. It’s just easier to pretend than to just make everyone uncomfortable.

You would give a little huff, but toon the advice. A shower was certainly needed. Was a well earned reward. Helped take a lot of pressure off of Al’s shoulders. She could focus on cleaning around the home now, since you did the hardest part. Now was just time to clean, and hopefully help the boys clean up to.

Looks like it wasn’t needed, as you returned. There to see that Logan had come to help clean Wade up on his own. Despite the aches, he was doing his best to help clean up Wade. Taking away all the ruined clothes, and using the cloth that DogPool gave him. Just making sure the stitch work was taken care of.

“Careful with the claws, peanut. Daddy’s sore.” Wade would laugh, but you could hear the dryness. A dryness of exhaustion. You may not understand what it’s like to be in pain twenty four seven but it’s not that hard to understand it’s taxing.

“There’s still a needle and thread here, bub. I’ll finish off your lips next.” He would warn him, but that tired tone was also shared. There wasn’t really that normal bite to it. It was like the two of them were on autopilot. That it was easier to let a routine speak over an isolating silence. It’s easier to pretend everything’s normal than to let the pain sink in. To be deep in your bones, make you spasm, and remind you that sometimes being alive isn’t the best gift humanity can have.

“Come on, you to buddy.” You would soon grab a damp cloth from the kitchen. You took your turn on the couch. Just gentle dabs at Logan’s cheek, in some kind of means to help Logan. You can’t take away the pain, but maybe showing you cared could help? That you’ll never be exhausted of them complaining. Being in pain twenty four seven would wear anyone down. It’s not fair to let them pretend it isn’t.

“Daw, kitties getting pampered.” Wade would lazily say. As if he was in so much pain it was triggering a high. Was that something possible? To reach a pain level you get a buzz and can’t really comprehend your surroundings? Yeah. Yeah you can.

“Ignore him. Wades being Wade.” Logan grumbled, but didn’t fight your attempts to help. Even if the cold cloth did nothing, the fact you were willing to try can be enough sometimes. Not everything can be cured. Doesn’t mean people can’t try and help dull it.

That seemed to be the last anyone said, for a while. Never thought the Merc With The Mouth would ever be quiet. Guess sometimes your body just can’t process things. That so much goes on all at once that your brain just can’t keep up. Sometimes you just gotta autopilot. To feel your body throb, beg, cry, spasm, ache, bones crack, muscles tear, brain buzz, nerves burn, just feel every fiber of your being set a blaze. Sometimes you just have to ride it out, until you can come back from autopilot.

You didn’t pressure them at all. You let them do their autopilot. Didn’t interrupt them at all. Just let them do what helped them best. You just made sure to help in your own way. Such as reducing their need to move more than they should. Grabbing them new clothes, washing their bodies by hand, getting them something to drink, just whatever they needed to got it. You were able bodied, and knew they already felt shit enough not being able to get up to do it themselves. You didn’t hold it over their heads. They had enough of a rough day.

“Thanks peanut.” Wade would smile at you, as you would plant a kiss to the top of his head. A gruff was given from Logan, his own means of thank you, so you kissed his head as well. He deserved to get affection all the same. Just because Wade was more open to his emotions didn’t mean Logan gets left out from the smooches.

“They ain’t gonna leave the couch for a while. I know that feeling-“ Al would say, as she had blankets for them. So you took them from her, and helped them get as comfortable as their aches allowed them to. So much ache that even Logan couldn’t complain at Wade’s overly touchy affection. He was just to damn tired.

“Better get used to this. Happens once a month I swear.” Al huffed, as you gave a sound of agreement. Given she wouldn’t be able to see you nod your head. Just hurt your heart to see it all, but that’s just how the cookie crumbles. Sometimes people are born with it, like Logan, some just get it from Mother Nature saying you had to be special like Wade. Couldn’t imagine the mental barrier they had. Then again, not like they had a choice.

Least DogPool was there to help. Having jumped up on the couch, and snuggling between them. Doing her little pat to the blanket, and curling up between her daddies. Doing her best to help them. Warmed your heart. You made sure she had a plushie while she was there. She wouldn’t leave their side easy after all.

“Not bad for your first run around. Didn’t say that bullshit of ‘wow you are so strong-‘ and that useless crap everyone says-“ Al would ramble to you, as she returned to the dishes. Back to her routine. Like nothing had even happened.

“I mean, why would I? It’s a given, and it’s not like it’s doing much.” You muttered, as you tried to do the routine as well. To try and wash, and clean, like nothing weird had happened. That wasn’t your normal, though. But you’ll learn to have that normal.

They deserved to feel normal.

[forlorn-crows]

one time someone asked me for a little something about cirrus and mountain's friendship. i don't know where that ask ran off to, but. tagging @askingforthesun bc i think i mentioned this to you randomly one day.

sometimes cirrus asks mountain to help her shave. gives them a chance to spend some alone time together and catch up. slice of life & banter for a sleepy sunday.

words: 680

“Ah, there it is,” Mountain hums, running his thumb along the newly shaven patch of skin.

“There’s what?”

“Your cute little mole.”

“Oh,” Cirrus snorts, thwacking him with the end of her tail. 

“Whaaat,” Mountain complains. He swishes the razor in the dish of water on the nightstand, laying it on the towel so he can go back to admiring the little blobby heart-like mark nestled in the fold of her upper thigh. “I love it. One of my favorite kissy spots.” The earth ghoul dips down as if to do just that, only to get a hiss and a face full of feathers.

“Uh uh,” she scolds. “No. You’re gonna give me pimples.” As if Mountain doesn’t already know this.

He sighs dramatically, resting his cheek on the opposite thigh. “Can you blame a ghoul for wanting to kiss such a perfect spot?”

“For an untrimmed bush? Yes. Because we both know once you start, you’re gonna get all horn-dog on me and I’ll be left indecent,” she pouts. 

Mountain tuts and rolls his eyes. “Would not,” he protests. He’s terrible at lying. With a pointed glare, Cirrus says as much. “Okay, maybe I would.”

“You have,” she corrects. “And I am not in the mood.” It’s not malicious, the way she says it. More haughty, teasing, and matter-of-fact, re-settling herself against the pillows with a wriggle of her shoulders. 

Mountain chuckles, placing a kiss to her bare thigh instead. “Alright, darling.” He runs the pads of his fingers lightly over the edge of her hair, feeling for rough spots or stray hairs. Pulls the thin skin to check in the creases too, mentally taking note of where to pick back up. 

“Thank you,” Cirrus chirps, crossing her arms playfully. 

Mountain just smiles and picks up the safety blade again. He shaves carefully along the crease of her thigh, brow furrowing as he concentrates. Cirrus has dark hair, so it’s easy to see, but he always vows to be precise when she’s asked him for help.

He cleans the blade again. “How’s mentoring going?” They’ve been talking about everything and nothing, mainly Cirrus’ newly developed finger joint pain (“So stupid, I’m how old and this vessel is just now deciding to fuck with me?” “You have been going hard on that baby grand recently, though, Cir.” “It’s new, it needs breaking in!” “Little harder on the hands, isn’t it?” “Well–”).

“Aurora?” Mountain hums an affirmative. “She’s . . .” Cirrus interrupts herself with a laugh. “She’s a handful, I won’t lie. In the best of ways.”

“She’s an eager one. Maybe more than Sunshine,” he muses.

“Yes,” she sighs. “So eager. She makes me feel like an old woman sometimes.”

“A wise old owl.” Mountain’s smirk earns him another tail smack. “You are going to make me miss a spot,” he accuses. 

Cirrus ignores him. “She has so much energy. She fits in wonderfully, and Sunny is taking well to mentoring, too. But Lucifer, that inner fire of hers . . . somehow it’s more pronounced than Sunny’s, if that were possible.”

“She’ll mellow out,” Mountain assures. “Sunny did, too. You and Lus have a calming influence.” The earth ghoul sets the razor aside and surveys his work. He hums, considering. “How’s the shape for you? I know you wanted a bit less this time, but I didn’t want to take too much off before I trim.”

“Hmm . . .” She peeks over her torso, assessing. Mountain hands her the mirror so she doesn’t have to crane her neck. She palpates her mound, pulling away hair from the shaved perimeter and spreading her thighs to see the rest. Tilting the mirror this way and that. 

“No, that’s great, sunflower, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, darling.” Mountain takes the mirror back and trades it out for the comb and scissors. “Same as usual for length?” 

Cirrus nods. “You know I can always bring you my clippers too, right?” 

“Call me old fashioned,” Mountain shrugs. “Sometimes it’s nice to slow down. More time to catch up.” He offers her a smile, one that she mirrors fondly.

“Can’t argue with that.” 

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 9.6

“Tymon told me that if I was sticking around for the full summer, he might want to take me out for icecream or something, so he-” “Wait what!?” Verona exclaimed.

I'm with Verona, this is important gossip!

“Tymon likes you?” Avery asked. “I don’t know, and that’s beside the point.”

from what I remember he was good backup at the institute, both in dealing with Bristow and in the argument Lucy had with Corbin. And he seemed pretty welcoming, a decent older brother, from a practitioner family but not weird about it...

“He also responded to my complaint about how much of a headache all the glamour stuff is by offering me a pill, so… maybe his judgment is a bit screwy.”

c'mon, that's just his school of magic! Headache medication can be a touching gesture

“This is a big part of why I didn’t mention this before.  You were already being a pain with Avery and Fernanda.” Verona cackled.

Verona not being interested in romance and being blasé about sexuality gives her an advantage at this teasing

Lucy sighed.  “Glamour is another thing for the list.  Big things we’ve been asked to do by the council include more patrols, we may be a part of the interrogation of this McKay Other, we should be part of the interrogation because I hate the idea of letting that happen without us knowing the end result…”

the TODO list in this section is exhausting. I wonder if the murderer(s) might try to bury the girls in extra patrols and other distractions to keep them from preparing?

“Fair warning,” Booker said.  “I’m not an experienced cook, I have a hot plate at the dorm, and breakfast turned out very gray.” “Gray?” Lucy asked. He showed them the frying pan, where bacon and onion were frying. It did look a bit gray.

Too much liquid in the pan and too low temperature?

“Crepes are fancy sounding but they’re super easy.  Learned how to cook those in grade five for a home ec style thing,” Booker said, handing Alyssa the board.

maybe I should start making crepes... in college one of my friends did them every once in a while, and they were always great. It just seems like a lot more work-per-food then pancakes, which are thicker and can be made as four small-medium ones at a time on a skillet. But I've been getting a bit bored with just alternating pancakes and waffles for brunch...

It was a good sized kitchen, really clean, very minimal, with almost no food or anything on the counters that wasn’t a direct product of the meal being made.  It was a contrast to Avery’s house, with its supply of chips, healthier snacks, the box of cereal someone had left out, and the various dishes that hadn’t fit in the dishwasher, laid out on a drying pad over more of the counter.  Add in the appliances, the stack of bills, and the counter space disappeared fast. 

my kitchen tends more towards Avery's, without the excuse of five children in the house

“Nah.  And Avery I only know through word of mouth.  Likes sports and is good at them, is a sweetheart according to both Lucy and Mom."

also according to me!

"New to the friend group and already locked in.” Lucy nodded once, firm, like this was gospel. Avery was touched, really.

:)

Booker had been talked up so much by Lucy that she felt a bit like she was in the presence of someone she didn’t want to offend.

I really do like this sibling relationship. I'm not sure wildbow's written this kind of uncomplicatedly positive siblings before?

He wasn’t Ulysse, who was probably a twelve out of ten on the gay-girl’s-guess-about-guys scale

I also have problems judging this, since my instinct for "that guy's probably attractive" is set to '"he looks like a butch lesbian"

“I don’t think you were ever going to get away with it, Ronnie.” “Not with the way you were acting!  Your jaw dropped.” “Of course my jaw dropped! It was a straight-faced, complicated lie, out of complete nowhere.”

huh, I guess the "Verona lies a lot" thing her dad was complaining about was based in reality. And this specific kind of lying, making up a story that seems too elaborate to make sense to fake which then falls apart when poked at, fits with what we've seen of her planning.

Avery put her crepe together, daubing in some blueberry jam and what might have been leftover fruit salad, then wrapping it up.

Important question: what kinds of fruit? Because for most fruit salads I've seen, yuck.

“You gotta quit it with the horror movies,” Booker told Lucy.  “You’ll scare away your friends.  Except I remember Verona being weirdly into that?” “I like monsters.”

understatement

Lucy’s expression was dark, frustrated, and deeply bothered, even as her family bustled around her. “I had one big priority last night and that was to not be an idiot and distract her any,” Lucy said.

Something I remember from early chapters is Lucy being really focused on not letting her mom find out about Lucy's emotional issues, not wanting to be a burden or need care.

And she felt that energy that was coming from Verona.  Avery knew her own parents cared but when push had come to shove they hadn’t noticed her hurting.  They had apologized but they hadn’t really done anything to make up for it, in the grand scheme of things.  She wasn’t sure they’d notice the next thing.

Jasmine is a good mom!

Which was weird until she sorta realized that she and Alyssa were pretty quiet as kind-of-outsiders in this family dynamic that did include Verona to some extent.

I do like that Verona gets to be a part of this family. And give it time, Avery. You'll get there.

It was so easy to escape notice or escape the systems of priority people used, but it took energy to avoid it.

deflecting concern in a way that doesn't seem worrying is tricky

Or be inoffensive, or not a screaming emergency in the same way perimeters, invading monsters, wars over magic schools and ominous conspiracies were.

I think Avery and Lucy should talk about keeping all their emotional issues bottled up so that they go unnoticed. They're rooted in different things, and expressed differently, but there's some commonality.

Her gut feeling was that if she went by Clementine’s system of handling stuff by scale, then at least one important thing would slip away. So she stood outside a house she didn’t recognize, double checked her phone for the house number, and walked down the path

Melissa?

She wore an athletic top with a thin ‘y’ of straps at the back and a herb or something on the front

odds on it being weed?

“Hey, teammate,” Avery said. “Not on your teams anymore.” “I still see you as a teammate in spirit,” Avery said.

love you Avery

“Apparently Hailey’s out, though, you know that?  Dropped from the team.  Weed is legal but coach says we’re not allowed, and after she got frisky with boys around at the end-of-year party, one of the other girls passed it on to coach.”

is weed legal for kids in Canada? I would assume it's age-restricted like in US states where it's legal. AFAIK people in my hometown didn't start getting stoned until midway through highschool, though I suppose there's less else to do in Kennet

“Doing more than hanging out, trust me.  Is that what we’re doing here?  I tell you stuff and you crap all over anything I say?” “No.  Not crapping, just clarifying.”

feeling a lot of sympathy for Avery here, trying to be supportive while also not agreeing with the other person sucks

You’re gay, cool, do what works for you. Girl at the Wavy Tree was gay and really good.

I'm amused by the straight urge to respond to someone coming out by listing off all the other gay people they know. When I came out to my grandmother I instantly got a rundown of every distant relative and grandchild of her friends' who was gay.

“If I say the wrong things, I might scare you off and never get this magic stuff?” “Being bitter about your friends isn’t great,” Avery said. “Just as a clue.”

job interview rules! never trashtalk your old coworkers

“I think you’re bitter and you’re unhappy and you might want to be unhappy, and I don’t get why but I want to fix it."

this line is like, peak Avery

“I don’t know.  I’m not good at this.  I’d need some sign or some clue you’re not going to keep being… this.”

“We had a classmate, didn’t we?”

ah :(

“I thought you were going to kiss me without asking or something messed up like tha- that’s my phone, what the fuck? Give that back!”

dude. c'mon. Not all lesbians are trying to hit on you. Probably none of them are!

“He came back, or they came back.  I’ve been walking with no place to go that isn’t getting food so I walked to his house, and he’s back, or something- it’s not him, like I remember him.  Older.  But his mom looked happy.  I tried knocking on her door to tell her about it, but she got weird about it.  Is that the kind of thing you were thinking about?”

oh fuck. One of those new others? I guess probably the youth?

[thatonegreyghost]

"You know the hero is traditionally supposed to marry the princess, right?"

Cecilia looks at the knight, easily twice her age and definitely twice as heavy, and tries not to choke in disgust. Lucan, the prince from Corinth, was supposed to come rescue her from the monster- this one was a werewolf, she thinks? She never saw it- but gods forbid Lucan do anything helpful. He's too busy "sparring" with his personal guard, probably.

"Is that a fact, Princess?" The knight gruffs sharply. "Well, that's not going to happen here. You're hardly much older than my daughter. I don't think anyone should want a wife of you."

"I should hope not." Cecilia mutters. "I have no interest in merely being someone's wife."

"As you shouldn't. You're too young." The knight agrees. "Come on, then. My camp is over this way. You can stay in the tent, and we'll head out in the morning."

"And where will you sleep?" Cecilia questions.

Lucan always sleeps in the tent with her. Not next to her, not usually, but always in the tent with her. He'll always complain that it's too cold outside, and he can't possibly be made to stay in the cold. Of course, that's likely because Lucan is a complete wuss.

"I'll sleep by the fire, Princess. It isn't a hardship."

Speaking of, Cecilia thinks, this camp is wonderful. A small tent, soup bubbling over a small fire, and what looks to be the coziest blanket in the kingdom. The knight begins to take off his armor, placing his sword near Cecilia's feet. An act of trust, and honor.

"Oh, you're a much better knight than Lucan."

The knight laughs, shaking his head.

"Lucan? Lucan of Corinth? No wonder you were stuck in that lair for so long. Lucan couldn't fight his way out of a potato sack- just like his mother."

Cecilia might agree, but on principle, she has to defend Lucan. Even if he is a bit of a wet sock.

"Excuse you, sir, how could you say such things?" Cecilia scoffs.

The knight laughs a hearty laugh, shaking his head. His armor clangs as he sets down his breastplate, then, as he stirs the soup, he laughs again.

"Lucan is my son. My former wife, Queen Castella of Corinth, is his mother. She won't give him any money until he marries, so I work to get him out of that castle. Once I've gotten enough to get him some armor, I'll start taking him on jobs. He's not much good at fighting, but he's got a charming smile and he can navigate royals much better than me."

"You're..." Cecilia takes a small step back. "You're Galyn of Corinth. The knight of Corinth. You saved the queen from a dragon!"

"She saved herself. No one would believe her, so she picked up the scrawniest knight she could get her hands on. I worked hard to be a good knight, but I was no dragon killer. Not back then." Sir Galyn laughs. "Imagine our surprise when she was promised to me. I told her I could leave, if she wanted. She told me to stay."

"So... what happened?" Cecilia asks as she sits by the fire. "Everyone says you disappeared. But Lucan always says that his father is his favorite person, and you don't seem dishonorable."

"Well, it's simple. Castella and I outgrew each other. I wanted to mend things. She... didn't think we could."

"So you left?"

Sir Galyn shakes his head, gruffing and groaning as he dishes out soup for the two of them. He glares at nothing in particular, tossing a blanket towards Cecilia with a quiet "don't catch cold, now." and nothing more.

Cecilia eats her soup, quietly wondering about this man in front of her. Lucan has consistently praised him for being the best man he knows. Lucan is also about as smart as a basket of cottage cheese. And does the great Galyn of Corinth really have to stoop so low as to take lowly rescuing jobs? Those are for young knights who would be better suited to palace life- one grand gesture they can coast on for the rest of their lives. Most princesses are lucky- they get a kind man, an honorable knight. But this...

"I didn't leave, Princess. She kicked me out." Sir Galyn reveals. "I couldn't stop fighting nobles for making lewd comments about young servant girls. I couldn't leave it that children were starving and freezing in the streets. She said I wasn't the man she married. I just never became the prince she wanted."

Cecilia eats her soup, not daring to look at Sir Galyn. She is more curious now, especially now that she knows this is Lucan's father.

"Why take Lucan with you? He is Corinth's only heir." Cecilia asks eventually.

"Well, see, Lucan has some specific preferences that Corinth won't tolerate." Sir Galyn mutters. "Were this my home country, it wouldn't be an issue, but his mother is starting to get nasty about it."

"So... You're paying to take him away?"

"It's as you said, Princess. He is Corinth's only heir. His mother will fight to keep him, even at the cost of his life."

Cecilia remembers, quite viscerally and suddenly, how she saw Lucan playing with a knife at a ball last year. He was drunk- most of them were, as the wine was quite strong and the weather was quite cold- but the ease with which he had settled that knife against his throat terrified her. He had spent two hours talking to her, during which time she confessed that she did not ever wish to marry, and would allow her younger brother to take the throne. She even detailed her plans to move to a convent.

A month later, he had begun courting her. At the time, she saw it as a betrayal of her trust. Now, she's not so sure.

"I hope you succeed." Cecilia blurts out. "Lucan can be a bit of an ass on occasion, but he deserves to be happy. Everyone does, I think."

"Aye, Princess, that we do." Sir Galyn says. "Sleep. I'll take you home in the morning."

The princess has been rescued, hooray! But to her dismay the hero isn't young and handsome, instead he's a middle aged divorcee who took the job to pay alimony and child support.

[misunderstood-muses]

Promise (Part 1)

Just another Ateez inspired Pirate AU

Aleah never wanted to leave the safety of her Inn, but when the Navy threatens her safe haven, she she is forced to leave it and join the band of pirates she has grown to care for. 

But will her own secrets threaten to ruin everything?

Tags: Language, Drinking, Sexual Talk, Sex, Major Character Death, Mentions of abuse, potentially mild gore

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had just finished making a bed, smoothing out a few wrinkles in the floral bedspread when someone whistled.

“No point in making that, Aleah.”  

I looked up and raised an eyebrow at the person standing in the doorway. 

“Why Wooyoung? Because it’s time to put the children to bed?” I asked. 

Someone cackled in the hallway.

“Oh come on.” Wooyoung complained, running a hand through his purple hair. 

I looked around Wooyoung at the other person who was entering the room, throwing themselves at me, short dark hair the only thing I could now see. 

“Hey, San.” I said, laughing. 

He pulled back and looked me over, face turning to a frown, “You look thinner.”

“Yes, thank you, Mother .” I said, rolling my eyes and pushing him away to hug Wooyoung. Despite his previous pouting, he hugged me back tightly. 

“Where are the others?” I asked, tucking in the rest of the bedding.

“Some are still on the ship. Yunho is downstairs.”

I ushered them out of the room, smoothing out my skirts before following them to the foyer where a tall boy was standing. 

“Leah!” He shouted, opening his arms wide. 

I sighed but jumped from the last two steps into him. He spun me around a few times before setting me down. 

“Come down to the docks with us. Come see everyone else.” He said.

I shook my head, “If they want to see me then they know where to find me.”

This was always a running thing. Everytime they were here one of them would try to get me to come see their ship, to go to the docks, to go near the ocean. I always refused. 

“But you know how Captain is.” San said. 

“And? If he’s too busy to leave his cabin to visit his friend then so be it. Besides, I have work to do.”

Wooyoung looked around and smirked, “And by work you mean…”

I smacked his arm, “You know nothing like that goes on here.”

“Only when Seonghwa is in port.” Yunho chimed in. I smacked him as well, and then San for good measure. 

“Hey, I didn’t do anything.”

“No, but your head was there right along with them.”

He said nothing to that. 

“Look, I have a few people booked here for the night but, if any of you would like a room, you know it’s always open to you.”

Wooyoung smiled, “I’ll take one. We haven’t had a real bed in a few weeks.”

“I’m sure everyone could use a good rest. Captain especially.” Yunho added. 

“Tell him it’ll be double for him,” I said, “This is a business after all.”

They all laughed and promised to return later. 

I had “inherited” a small inn on the Island of Marh. It wasn’t much, a two story building on the smaller side, but there were two bathrooms with pump water and the kitchen had been well equipped. I’d befriended the owner when I’d first gotten here, a small but stern woman who had given me a job. She’d asked no questions about who I was or where I was from as long as I could take orders and clean. I proved I could do more and she’d left it to me when she’d died a few years after. I was happy, and it was far enough away from the ocean that I couldn’t see the water from where I was.

I still did a lot of the cleaning myself. It helped to keep me calm, but I did have a few other girls and a cook, a woman named Maria, who I was pretty sure was on the run from someone, but she knew how to make a mean breakfast so I wasn’t asking too many questions. 

The sun was setting when I heard the door open from my place in the dining room where I was cleaning the dishes up from the few guests staying here who had had dinner early per their request. 

More than one pair of boots moved on the wood floors. I tensed up a little. Boots sometimes meant trouble. I looked at the silverware on the table, wondering what I could use if I needed to defend myself. 

“Planning to come at us with the cutlery?” A light voice said.

My shoulders sagged a little.

“Possibly. I am feeling a bit upset that it took you this long to get here, Captain.” I said, relaxing fully and turning around to greet the smaller man,  his light brown mullet still slightly damp from where he must have washed it recently.  

He grinned and walked over, pulling me into a hug. 

“Believe me, we barely pulled him away.” Mingi said, him and Jongho also entering the room. 

“I’m sure.” 

I hugged them both as well. 

“Sit. There’s more food and everyone staying has already eaten for the night.” 

I tilted my head, silently questioning Hongjoong who nodded his head towards the foyer.

I schooled my features to face the beautiful black haired man standing by the front door. 

“Seonghwa.” I said flatly. 

He looked me up and down before a half smile appeared on his face and I couldn’t hold mine back any longer either, practically throwing myself into his arms. 

He pulled me against him, holding me like that for a while before taking his hands and cupping my cheeks. 

“Look at you. Lady of the house. Must I ask your permission before kissing you, my lady?”

“You must.” 

“My dear Aleah, please may I kiss the lips that have haunted me every day at sea.”

“You may.”

He grinned before bringing his lips to mine. 

“Ugh, get a room. You have like twelve here.”  I recognized Wooyoung’s voice as he walked in. 

“Get out of here, Wooyoung.” Seonghwa said against my lips. 

“Gladly, I’d rather not have my dinner ruined.”

I pushed Seonghwa back lightly, “He’s right though. Let’s have dinner.”

Pulling a few mismatched chairs into the dining room, we all sat relatively comfortably around the table.  San and Yunho had joined us as well by the time I’d gotten all the food out, but there was still someone missing. 

“Where’s Yeosang?” I asked, passing a plate across me to Jongho, who grabbed three rolls before passing it on. 

“Reading.” Hongjoong said. 

“As per usual. We’ll save him something then.” I said, slapping Jongho’s hand away from getting his fourth serving of potatoes. 

“He’d like that, and thank you, for this wonderful dinner and lodging,” Hongjoong smiled, “Even if I’m apparently paying double.”

Everyone else shared his sentiment. It was hard to believe that all these boys were feared pirates and that the small, smiling man across from me was its fearsome Captain. I hadn’t even believed it when I’d first met them four years ago. 

“Well, I’ll have someone clean everything up while I show you to your rooms if you wish to stay in them.” I got up, moving to the kitchen to tell one of the girls to put everything away, but save one plate. 

I showed everyone else to their rooms, giving Hongjoong the only room that wouldn’t need to be shared.  I headed back to my own to find Seonghwa already there. 

“A little forward aren’t you?” I asked. 

He pulled me into him, saying nothing. I could tell he was tired. 

“Sleep.” I said, pushing him until he sat on the edge of the bed. I ran my fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes. 

“I have a few more things to do but I’ll be up soon. Rest until then.”

“I’ll be waiting then.” He kissed my knuckles once before starting to remove his boots. I left him, heading to one of the bathrooms to freshen up from the day before doing final rounds. I ran some water, careful not to touch it. Grabbing a cloth, I took a deep breath, running it over my face and arms. I removed my outer skirts and clothing until I was in the thin shift underneath, which I hoisted up to run the cloth over my legs. The water made my skin prickle and I tried to ignore the feeling. In small doses I could control it. The change, the urge. A sharp rap on the door startled me, making me jump and spill the small bowl I’d filled with water, it splashing down my leg as I yelped. 

“Aleah?” I recognized Yeosang’s worried voice. 

“I…” I looked down at my leg, panicking slightly, quickly trying to dry it with the towel but I could see something catch the light on my leg as bolts of pain started shooting down my leg.

The door opened slowly. I’d forgotten to lock it. 

“Are you alri…” He paused, large, attentive eyes flicking to my leg. I quickly covered it with my gown but I knew he’d already seen something, even if he didn’t know what it was. I grabbed him by his vest and pulled him into the small bathroom, slamming the door. 

“Not a word, or you won’t get dinner. And not a word to Hongjoong or you won’t get a bed.” I hissed at him, letting him go to turn my back to him, continuing to dry off my legs until I was satisfied. 

“And what exactly am I not telling him?” He asked and I could hear the amusement in his voice. 

“Don’t Yeosang.” I warned, pushing him towards the door. 

“Alright. However, if we both leave this bathroom with you in just your undergown I may have to sleep with one eye open from now on.” 

I looked down, blushing as I grabbed my other clothes, frantically putting them on. 

“Now, about that dinner.” He said, grinning. 

“You’re insufferable. Worse than Wooyoung.”

I shoved him from the bathroom and he followed me to the kitchen where I set his plate in front of him at a small table beside the hearth. 

“Sit with me?” He asked, cocking his head to the side a little, flicking his long hair away from his eye, birthmark now peaking out. He knew he was impossible to refuse when he did that. 

I sat heavily, legs still slightly tingling but having them near the fire, warming up and drying, was making me feel better. 

“You know,” He started after we had sat in silence for a while, “I thought you just had a fear of the water and that’s why you never come and meet us or see us off.”

I eyed him suspiciously. 

“But you’re not scared of the water at all. In fact, it’s the complete opposite since you’re…’

“Stop. I am very scared of the water. You’re right. I’m never going near it.”

“Aleah…”

“Just because you read your books with big words and even bigger myths does not mean that I am one of them.”

He picked apart his bread for a moment before looking up at me, “It never meant you had to be...but you are, aren’t you?”

“You’re taking this rather well.” I said, leaning back into the wooden chair. 

He smiled, “This is what I sail for. This is why I do this.”

“Not for the piles of gold?”

He laughed, “Do you think we have piles of gold?”

“Yes.” I said truthfully. 

He just shrugged, “This is much better than piles of gold. How are you...how do you…” 

I knew what he was trying to say, “It is with great difficulty and control. With small amounts of water, like from a cloth or such, I can control it. I haven’t been near the ocean in years. I’m afraid that would be too much.”

“Which is why you stay here.”

I nodded. 

“You can’t tell anyone about this, Yeosang. No one. I’m already going back on what I said about you having dinner, but I will kick you out of this house.”

He nodded, “I won’t.”

I stood, walking over to him and kissing the top of his blonde hair. 

“Eat up. I have things to do.”

“Like Seon…”

I smacked the back of his head before he could finish his sentence and he just laughed. 

Honestly, they were all the worst. 

I did a few things to get ready for the morning and locked up before heading back to my own room.  Seonghwa was snoring lightly and I smiled. Slipping off my clothing until I was in my shift, I walked over to the windows and stood there for a moment, looking in the direction of the ocean, feeling the pull I always felt but ignored most days. A breeze swept across my face, the smell of salt carried with it, tempting me to follow it back. 

I felt arms wrap around my waist as Seonghwa pulled me back against his chest.

“Did you have a good nap?” I asked.

“Could’ve been better. All done?”

“Yes. Yeosang came in so I sat with him for a little while he ate.”

He laughed lightly against the back of my neck, “Why are you so good to us?”

“I ask myself that everytime you dock here.” 

I squealed quietly as he spun me around to face him. We just looked at each other for a while. The breeze blowing the front of his hair which had gotten longer and lighter since the last time I’d seen him. 

“I love you.” He said finally.

“I love you too.” I whispered back. 

“Let’s go to bed.” He said, untying the strings on the back of my shift until it fell to the floor and I blushed. He grinned and led me to my bed, pulling me down until I was on top of him.

“Your crewmates will hear us.” I said, pecking him on the nose anyways.

“You always say that.”

“And I’m always right.”

[alixinwwonderland]

“Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner. And maybe breakfast.”

It has been a very, very long day.

Midge isn't complaining, to be clear. The NBC gig is the biggest step in her career yet, and it turns out that she really enjoys working in television - something she hadn't expected. There's a whole new crew of people who have quickly gone from work acquaintances to actual friends, and it turns out that it's really, really nice to have more than one or two friends "in the business."

That being said, however, their friendship can't fill one very specific void in her life. Specifically, the one left by a particular tall, curly-haired comic who she hasn't seen since a bittersweet airport run-in that left far too many things unsaid.

She always knew that, if they crossed that line, things wouldn't ever be able to be the same. What she didn't expect was him fucking off to California, just days after handing her her ass (and multiple orgasms), leaving her to dwell on... well, a lot of things: what she could have done differently, what he might be doing now, whether all is really as "well" as he claimed, what his hands felt like on her...

Most days, she's able to push those thoughts out of mind. Today, though, was a two-episode filming day, her mother is in a flurry over some petty act of sabotage, and Joel is being particularly Joel. In short, she's too tired to fend off the thoughts and the longings that creep in when she lets her guard down.

So when she stumbles out of the studio, declining the crew's offer for a late-night bite, all she wants is to go home, take her shoes off, and pretend that she's not wishing she had someone to go home to.

Despite working side-by-side with Alfie, Midge doesn't really believe much in magic. That is, until the voice she most wants to hear emerges from the shadow outside the stage door entrance.

"That was quite the show tonight, Mrs. Maisel."

She whips her head around just in time to see Lenny pushing himself forward from where he was leaning against the wall. Her eyes can't help scanning over him, eagerly searching for any clues about what he's been up to since they last saw each other. There's a familiar exhaustion in the slouch of his shoulders and something unsettled in the twitch of his fingers. But his face looks a little fuller (though those cheekbones should still be in an art museum somewhere), his eyes are as clear and sharp as ever, and the little smile playing at the corners of his mouth has the same effect it always has on her.

"Gee thanks, Mr. Bruce," she says. "Someone told me 'just work, and keep working,' so. Here I am. Working."

"Sounds like a very wise someone," he quips.

"Sometimes. Other times, he's a complete bonehead who can dish out advice but won't take it," Midge says pointedly. He at least has the grace to look abashed.

"It sounds like maybe he just needed a little time after the right someone gave him some tough advice. Maybe that's something you can relate to?"

And damn him, because of course she can. That's always been at the heart of their... whatever this is. They're nothing alike on the outside, save for their signature color and chosen profession. But inside, where no one can see, something within each of them found something kindred from that very first police car ride.

"Maybe," she allows. "But I'm still mad! But..." She takes the risk, reaching up to smooth at his lapels and leave her hand there. "I'm also really happy to see you."

He places his hand over hers, then lifts it so he can press his lips to it.

"Got anywhere special to be tonight?" he asks. When she shakes her head no, he nods seriously. "Let's go. I'll buy you dinner... and maybe, breakfast?"

"We've got a lot to talk about before breakfast, mister," Midge warns as they head down the sidewalk. "But," she allows, "what kind of girl do you think I am? I don't buy breakfast, I make breakfast. In my own kitchen," she stresses, and oh boy is she in trouble when she sneaks a sidelong glance just in time to see him lose the battle to keep a broad, boyish grin from breaking across his face.

[karmic-toast]

For Love♡

Please read Part 1! Word count: 742

A/n: So I changed the genre of this story to like horrorish? ｡◕‿◕｡There is no happy ending for the boys, but the reader gets to live a happily ever after with her sibling(s). (⌒▽⌒) Summary: After having a good nights rest, you are awoken to another mess. You’re late for work and there is some bad news. Characters used: Kazuha, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Lumine

Kazuha looks up from the book he was reading.

“Welcome home.”  

Kazuha? Why was he here?

Kazuha seemed to have read your confused expression and answered, “I just came to check on Lumine, since you were coming back home late.”

Gratitude swells in your chest. But before you could thank him, Lumine excitedly tells you about the haiku she made with Kazuha. 

“Adepti are cool, I want to be one one day, Qilin are the best.” 

It was so random, but you loved it. 

“Wow! It’s so good!” 

You turn to Kazuha. “Thank you. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

“No no, she was excellent.”

Lumine yawns in your arms.

“Let’s get you to bed.” you whisper.

She yawns again in response. 

Getting Lumine to bed was always a hassle. And today was no different.

“Whew, finally, we’re done.” you say in relief.

“Not yet.” Kazuha gently shakes his head. “You haven’t gone to bed yet.”

You shake your head in protest. “I’m no done with the dishes and I have too-”

“Shhh.” Kazuha places one finger over your mouth, shutting you up.

It wasn’t long until you were also placed in bed next to your sister. 

“But Kazuhaaaa-” you complain only to be interrupted again. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Just stay here and sleep, Ok? I know you’re exhausted.”

Kazuha then left your bedroom.

He was right, you were very tired, and the bed was warm… Soon you fell into a deep slumber.

“Y/n!” You were awoken to a frantic Lumine, desperately trying to wake you up.

“We’re gonna be late!”

Late? What time was it?... OH. The hands on the clock were definitely past 8:20. You get ready as quickly as you can. 

The shop was going to open at 8:30!

After you help Lumine get ready for school, you take off to the cafe.

As you near your destination, you see several cars in the parking lot- and customers inside to your dismay. Someone was taking the shift of being the barista, although you were sure it was yours.

Going in through the back door, you enter the ‘employees only’ room.

Your eyes widen as you realize that your apron wasn’t there! Was one of your co-workers nice enough to pose as you in your shift? You exit from the back door and enter through the main entrance.

To your surprise, you see a green haired man in your apron.

“Xiao?” you call out.

The apron you usually wore looked so tight on him. Too tight. A blush creeps up your face as you realize how ripped he is. And the other female customers fawning over him seemed to notice too.

“You weren’t here. And the other customers were waiting. So… I decided to help out.”

“Oh thank you Xiao!” you say in delight. If he hadn’t helped you out, you were sure you would’ve gotten in deep trouble.

“Hey comrade, you should also thank me.” A new voice comes from the corner.

“I also decided to help out. Mr. Emo boy here was scaring off most of the customers.”

“Hey!” Xiao growls.

“Well someone had to do something. It wasn’t good for business.”

“Your ‘helping out’ had mostly to do with talking. A lot.”

“But it stopped people from leaving because of you.” Childe points at the line of customers as if to prove his point.

“No, the only reason there is a line of customers now is because you spend 5 minutes talking with each one of them!”

The two men glare venomously at each other.

“Well, you both helped me out a lot. I appreciate your kindness.” you say interrupting their small conflict.

Childe’s sour mood from before disappeared as quickly as it came. “Of course, sunshine!”

“Oh, so we’re giving Y/n nicknames now?” 

…

After you retrieve the apron, you start your shift.

Soon, the number of customers dwindled, you give Childe and Xiao a free cup of coffee as a thanks.

“By the way, how did you get into the cafe?” you ask, curiuosly.

“It was unlocked when I came.” Xiao says plainly.

“Oh I was sure I locked it yesterday…” you say trying to recall the moments before you closed the shop the day before. Had you been in such a hurry to get back to Lumine that you forgot about such important things?

Before you could continue, a frantic Zhongli walks in.

“Have any of you seen Venti?”

Part 3

Taglist: @pix-stuff

[ledbet]

all of this is so true. And also a fantastic measure of community and the regular with the usual really epitomizes that, I think. And makes it possible! My hometown (a bustling suburb 10mins outside a good size US city) has lots of flux in the people living there, lots of people moving in for short term business contracts, or while completing college or higher degrees, and lots of townies (saying this as one myself), and immigrants, and just a really nice blend of folks. There were two breakfast joints in town (I’d call them diners but this isn’t the NJ/NYC area so diner isn’t exactly right). My family went to just one of them for the past…oh, 35 years. We’ll call the place Ram’s.

Mr. Ram had provided simple but amazing food pretty much every day without fail for longer than I had been alive. He was gnarled but always neat, knew all the town gossip almost as intimately as he knew his grill, and he had a memory like a steel trap. His place was small but it was a hub of community. Kids had lunch dates there, old ladies met there to discuss club news, business men and women went to complain about work, students completed projects in the booths while downing French fries at unprecedented rates. It was ALWAYS busy there. A townie hangout but everyone was welcome and everyone came. but it was only Mr. Ram working the grill, plus one person busing tables and serving coffee/toast (usually a local high schooler), and his right hand guy (equally gnarled) handling all chopping and prepping. How did they get through? The regular 🙏

Sometimes my mom and grandma and I would come in and he’d shout our names from the grill and ask us what we wanted (he always made sure to ask) and my mom would say “ooh maybe I’ll try the new (insert something delicious)” and Mr. Ram, still working the grill and with such speed it was like he had 4 arms, would say “no, you want the chicken salad on white with lettuce and no tomato and chips on the side.” And my mom would think about it and say actually, yes, that’s true. Because it always was.

And you might think, woah that’s not right, but please keep in mind Mr. Ram knew my mom since she was ~20, before I was born. Before she even met my dad or left town. And if there was a new dish he knew she’d like, he would recommend it or tell her he got something special in just for her. He knew! And my mom was never upset with this, she was thrilled. (For my part, I only ever ordered 2 dishes — an omelet with green peppers and cheese for breakfast, or a chicken kabob wrap with tahini for lunch, and I still dream about them. My grandma always got an English muffin with lots of butter, side of bacon, and cup of coffee, no matter the time. Sometimes if Mr. Ram was having a great day he’d make her a few silver dollar pancakes with chocolate chips to go with her regular order, just for fun)

he got us. Everyone in town really. And that let him operate his restaurant with efficiency but also with care. It was amazing to show up, not have to think and just be taken care of, know you’d get an amazing meal exactly the way you wanted it, and spend that mental energy catching up with neighbors or kids home from college you hadn’t seen in ages or with the tool shop owner who had some knew gizmo in that he knew you had been looking for the day before. You know? I don’t now how to express it. It felt like love. And totally normal, and just cozy and easy in a way most other things aren’t. When he started talking about retirement I asked him if I could buy one of his restaurant coffee mugs (they have the best heft and have his name printed on the side) to keep at home. He wrapped one up on the spot and gave it to me and chided me for asking to pay for it. That’s just Mr. Ram. He wanted you to feel cared for. Anyway. He’s been retired for a few years now and moved out of state to be closer to his grandkids, and he sold the building, but his old restaurant still looms in the community. Tell someone in town that you’re making chicken salad for lunch and they’ll still ask, “the way Mr. Ram makes it?” And you know the answer is going to be “yes!”

Here's an example of some of that shifting frame I'm talking about, as we truly enter the 21st, and leave behind the 20th Century. This is actually a really normal interaction that you see in 20th century media. Most people my age and older understand it as completely normal and it is not seen as autistic.

I have had to reassure any number of people that asking for the same beverage two visits in a row, and or being a regular at a specific restaurant, is not weird.

Maybe it is weird now. I don't know.

But it would not have been considered weird at ANY point during the majority of my lifetime. You will see this kind of an interaction in a majority of 20th century sitcoms. Probably even later ones. But I suspect that the people the most worried about this, are not in the media consumption silo that would show this. Sitcoms will show this, but lots of the most socially anxious people do not watch sitcoms. (I've noticed this for ages.)

"The Usual" is actually NOT an inconvenience to shopkeepers.

[savage-rhi]

Can I get a part 3 or masterlist of ada meeting Leon’s daughter if you want to

@aeonlover2007 Here's the link to the other 2

There was a peaceful quiet that fell between Ada and Leon while they cleaned the dishes together. It was approaching midnight, and the two could feel sleep tugging away at their eyes.

Leon was dead set on accomplishing the chore. He didn't want to deal with dishes in the morning, nor could he trust his daughter to follow through and have them done before taking the bus to school. It was up to him to save the day. Per usual.

The thought had Leon smile big, finding irony. He had left his government job because he got tired of being the go-to guy for everything. As a parent, he did nothing but act as someone's rock. Not that he was complaining. Leon realized he could never truly leave the profession of wanting to keep people safe.

"Something on your mind?"

Ada's voice snapped Leon out of his thoughts. He glanced at her from the side and shook his head, going back to cleaning off a plate.

"Nothing worth talking about." Leon said. "You've been awfully quiet since Jade went to bed. Did I do something?"

Ada raised a brow, putting up some bowls in the cabinet nearby. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know." Leon sighed. "I guess I'm tired. Not thinking straight."

"I'll say."

They both smiled at each other. Both amused at Ada's playful jab.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Leon turned his head to Ada, handing her a dish he finished scrapping.

"Shoot. We have time." Ada said while she started soaking the tray.

"Do you still smuggle B.O.W's for clients?"

"You sure know how to go for the throat," Ada laughed. "No foreplay. No build up. Honestly, that saddens me Leon."

"C'mon," Leon sighed. "Enlighten me."

"Very well," Ada's playful smile began to falter. She let out a deep breath through her nose, knowing Leon wasn't going to like the answer. "Yes. I still smuggle B.O.Ws. To my credit, I haven't taken on as many clients as I once did. I'm slowly weaning off of the life, and the money that comes with it."

"What's your long term goal?" Leon asked curiously. He crossed his arms, leaning his back against the fridge while watching Ada continue to clean.

"Well, we both know I'm getting too old for this job." Ada said as a matter of fact. "I'm lessening clients little by little every year. Eventually, I hope to have a few left. So when I finally disappear, it won't be a big deal among the black market."

Leon nodded. As much as he had his grievances towards Ada's line of work, he still respected her. Even the nefarious choices she made. After all these years, he still didn't know why Ada got involved with the black market in the first place. It was an unspoken line neither of them crossed. He'd be lying though if his curiosity wasn't tempted to poke the bear.

"Do you want a drink?" Leon offered.

"You buying?" Ada teased.

"You're the guest. My treat." Leon chuckled. He watched her nod to him and ventured to a cabinet across the kitchen. Leon prepared two glasses of bourbon for himself and Ada after getting the bottle out.

"Your ex," Ada began. "Did she have enemies?"

Of all the things Leon thought Ada was going to converse about, he didn't anticipate the question. He did a double take.

"Pardon?"

"I don't know her line of work, but the fact you called me out here suggests she messed with the wrong crowd." Ada said as a matter of fact. She ventured over to Leon's side, grabbing one of the glasses of bourbon from the counter and took a sip.

"You can say that," Leon murmured. "She was an undercover cop. Was once a journalist before starting academy. Even when her and I began dating, she pissed off many people."

"She sounds charming." Ada smiled.

"She was," Leon smiled then furrowed his brows. Shaking his head. "But charm doesn't fix relationship problems."

"What made you guys break up?"

"Well," Leon took a quick sip of his bourbon. "I picked up more shifts at the college. She was taking on too many cases. Jade was paying the price. If her mother and I weren't fighting, we were working the grind and didn't make time for her. I saw how much Jade was hurting, and served the papers. I can't believe that was three years ago."

"I'm sorry." Ada said sincerely. She shook her head.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Ada countered with a shrug. "Things didn't work out between you and I, but I always knew the kind of life you wanted. I hoped that you'd find your happiness. I wish that it worked out."

Leon smiled. There were many things he wanted to say, but the words couldn't leave him. Or maybe he wasn't ready to tell Ada. Whatever the case, he was thankful for what she said.

"Kiera was working on a case before she died." Leon began. "One of the suspects had associations with a B.O.W. trader."

"How does this tie into her death?"

Leon made a face. "The timing of it. A week later after she found the connection, she suddenly got sick and died. I can't prove anything, but all my instincts as a former agent are telling me somehow the trader was involved. I was hoping you'd be able to dig into him more. I have the files ready to go."

Ada nodded. She appreciated Leon's diligence, and could see how this situation shook him up.

"Does Jade know?" It wasn't her place to pry in something so personal, but having met Leon's daughter and starting to grow attached to her, Ada couldn't help but ask.

Leon's eyes conveyed a sense of dread. He shook his head. "No. All she knows is that her mom got sick and died. She doesn't know anything about the case, or the fact her mom was more than likely murdered. I'm not ready to have that conversation with her yet."

"Understandable." Ada sighed. Both her and Leon drank more of the bourbon, and once the glasses were empty they set them down on the counter.

"I need to be up early." Leon broke the silence, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No longer a night owl?" Ada chuckled.

"Unfortunately," Leon shrugged and smiled at her. "I have an ethics class to teach at 7am. Lecture afterward."

"I don't envy you."

"Ada,"

"Yeah?"

Leon wasn't sure if it was the alcohol coursing through him, the loneliness he had felt these past few years, or the familiarity of her, but his trembling right hand reached out for Ada. His hand cupped the side of her face before he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

Both of them averted their gazes from one another when the deed had been done. Uncertainty crossed their features. Ada could feel her face burning up.

"That's probably not a good idea right now."

"You're right," Leon nodded. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Old habits die hard. We'll talk when you're off work. Be seeing you later, Leon."

"Goodnight."

Ada ventured out of the kitchen of Leon's house and made her way to the guest room. She didn't know what to make of what transpired, but decided sleeping it off would be the wisest option.

If you like my work and feel generous, feel free to donate to my ko-fi account or my cash app account!

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[ddarker-dreams]

Buds of Marigold. Yan Childe x Reader x Yan Scaramouche

Warnings: Implied forced marriage, unhealthy relationships, depictions of anxiety, darling threatening violence against someone, mild not SFW implications.  Word count: 2.5k.

“I never thought the day would come where I’d be so stumped,” Ying’er runs her fingers over glass bottles of essential oils and varying plant nectars. “For such an important customer too… everything needs to be perfect.”

You don’t lift your eyes from the task in your hands, scrubbing valiantly at a stain blemishing an incense pot. To affirm you have been listening, even if you won’t spare her a glance until you’ve finished cleaning, you hum with a rising intonation. Ying’er sinks to the ground with all the grace of a drunken sailor, sniffling in a final attempt to pry out your sympathy.

She hobbles over to where you’re sitting and places her head on your lap. Your body tenses at the sudden touch, but you steady your breathing before it can get noticeable.

“Oh, almighty Yun, the lost Archon of fragrances, have thee no pity for thy devout follower,” Ying’er lifts the back of her hand and presses it against her forehead in a show of unparalleled theatrics. The sight does as she intended, a light giggle leaving your lips at the impromptu melodrama. Her timing lines up well as the stubborn grime you were fighting finally concedes.

You place the incense pot aside and sheepishly pat her head. “Ying’er, how are you going to learn if I give you the answers every time?”

“By your ingenious example!” She exclaims, jutting out her lower lip into a pout. “I’ve already picked out the base, I just need a little nudging in the right direction for the top and mid notes.”

Your eyes soften and your heart is strum with conviction. You soothe your grumbling friend by stroking her hair, humming a soft tune, all the while feeling somewhat baffled by your growth thus far. A few moons ago, you couldn’t have pictured allowing yourself to be touched like this by anyone. It wouldn’t matter how innocent the contact was. The moment someone got too close for comfort, you were willing to reduce them to nothing but a pile of cinders.

You pause your ministrations and sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll help you compose your perfume. This is the last time though, okay?”

Ying’er ailments seemingly vaporize into the air at your begrudging assistance. She shoots up from her kneeling position like her feet were coiled springs, an overflow of gratitude fumbling past her lips.

“You’re the best, Yun,” she praises and pinches your cheek, much to your chagrin. “Now that I’ve won you over with my charms, how about—”

The front door’s chimes ring, alerting you both of someone entering. You two exchange a look of confusion, as Scent of Spring is closed for the day, the oil lanterns extinguished and doors locked. Your finger twitches by your side in anticipation. Ying’er is blissfully ignorant to your Vision and subsequent ability to command forward a blade, a façade you wish to sustain.

“I’ll handle it,” Ying’er says before you can contemplate your options another second. You nod, an unspoken appreciation etched onto your countenance. The details of your circumstances were purposefully murky and she never presses. Whatever conclusions Ying’er has come to, you prefer it stays that way, not wanting to upset the delicate balance that is your current life.

You straighten out her collar which had wrinkled. “Call me if anything’s wrong.”

Ying’er winks reassuringly and presses her hands over yours, the touch featherlight. “I’m a fearsome opponent, no one would dare cross me.”

Let’s hope that’s true, you think. Frowning, you observe her retreating figure, taking caution to remain out of sight. Ying’er steps out of the backroom, the thick wooden door closing loudly behind her. You keen your ears to listen, cursing internally over how the thick walls muffle their voices. Her voice is one you instantly recognize, but the other belongs to someone with a deeper timbre. Your boss is an elderly woman, so that rules her out. A Millieth, perhaps?

You’re not left waiting for long, much to your relief. Ying’er pops her head back in a few minutes later.

“It was just a returning customer who was pleased with his latest commission, the one you helped me with no less. He had nothing but high praises for it!”

Waves of relief crash over you, but your senses remain on high alert.

“I’m happy to hear that. Still, how did he manage to get in? Didn’t you lock up for the night?” You inquire, hoping you don’t sound overly paranoid. In the back of your mind, you can’t fully discount the idea that it’s him, the thought alone enough to have you shaking in place.

“Must’ve forgotten or something,” she shrugs. You let out a breath you were holding in at her nonchalance, it seems plausible given her airheaded nature. “By the way, Yun, can we work on the perfume in the morning? I just realized how tired I am.”

“Of course. It has been a long day... I’ll finish things up here, go home and get some rest.”

Ying’er waves and wishes you a good night.

It’s now your turn to slump onto the ground, grasping your chest when your knees hit the floor. Deep breaths, deep breaths, you tell yourself. Everything is going to be okay.

This peaceful existence that you’ve fought tooth and nail to build for yourself… the only way it could ever get be stolen from your hands is if air no longer filled your lungs. Your fingers travel underneath the foreign fabric of your Liyue garments, the warmth of your pulsating Vision giving you solace. Tending to the last few chores, your subconscious drifts elsewhere, to an island beyond the sea. What is it you would be doing this time of day again? Ironically enough, you realize you’d be working with incense as you are now, but for different reasons. The reason you excel with curating incense to produce the best aroma is because you were trained to do so.

Your work now is your lifeblood, giving you enough to scrape by undetected. Those days, however, were a different story. It constituted survival like now, but to a far more humiliating degree. It was expected of you to perform your duties with grace and discipline. You would retire early to your shared chambers, prepare and burn your husband’s favorite incense, and fuss over your appearance in the vanity. Then you would loosen the sash of your obi, just enough so that if it had been a frustrating day, he could lose himself in your body for a momentary escape. Those customs had been ingrained into your mind. Had you needed to, you’re certain you could’ve done everything with your eyes closed from memory.

You head for the back exit. Surely, your past self would be thrilled to know your meticulous plans had come to fruition. All those smiles through gritted teeth, submissive language, and patience that could rival that of a god… everything was worth it.

Now you’re no longer the number Six of the Fatui's Eleven Harbingers’ spouse. You’ve taken the identity of Yun, a Visionless worker for a perfume shop in Liyue, everyday defined by freedom. To do as you please, go where you please, speak to who you please. The little details that were stolen from you by his hands return like tentative buds in spring.

You’ve yet to fully assimilate with Liyue’s cuisine, but it’s steadily growing on you. Maybe you’ll make an Inazuma-inspired dish tonight? In the months that have passed, you’ve found a taste for your nation’s food coming back. So as not to repeat Ying’er’s mistake, you double-check the backdoor’s locks, finding it is as it should be. Behind the humble shop is an alley which you use to creep back home. It’s best not to risk traveling out in the open if you can avoid it, you never know what eyes might be hiding in plain sight.

“Liyue apparel compliments you very well.”

With the speed of a descending phoenix, you pivot on your heel, summoning your weapon and pressing it to the jugular of whoever spoke just now. Squinting, your eyes take a few long seconds to adjust. Once they do, your body feels like it’s being drug into the underworld, the air in your lungs forced out. This man… you’ve seen him before. He gives you an all teeth grin, azure eyes swirling with delight and face contorting in amusement.

You remain steadfast through your bewilderment. “Try and scream and I’ll slit your throat.”

“I’m not much of a screamer,” Childe replies, laughing as if the situation was comical. “It’s good to see you too, [First]. Never thought I’d happen upon an old face in Liyue. I knew I recognized that unique combination of perfume, looks like I was right.”

It hits you that this is the first time you’ve heard your actual name in months. How Childe says it doesn’t feel right, he utters it with familiarity. Though, from what you remember, he’s never been known for having boundaries. Scaramouche would complain about his conduct for hours if given the opportunity. This would be the first time you’ve spoken with him, not from a lack of trying on his behalf. When Childe paid a visit to your husband’s estate, you were expected to be present at the start of their meetings. They would discuss business together while you stood there and looked easy on the eyes. Occasionally, you would refill their tea, but that was all you were permitted to do.

The look Scaramouche shot Childe when the latter tried speaking with you was enough to give you nightmares for days.

“What… what are you going to do now?” You murmur, anticipating the worst. This isn’t going to end well no matter what. If Fatui are in Liyue, that means Childe’s likely told someone where he was going; meaning that him going missing would be suspicious and warrant an investigation. On the other hand, who is to say he won’t just return you to Scaramouche if you let him live? You doubt your tears and pleading would have any effect on the youngest Harbinger. He’s similar to your husband — acting altruistic and kind — only to show their true colors when it suits them best.

“Right now? I’m trying not to get my throat slit,” he raises an eyebrow like that was the most obvious answer.

You bite your lower lip. “We both know you could get out of this hold if you wanted to.”

“Emphasis on the ‘if I wanted to’ part. As of right now, I don’t believe I do, being held by you is rather enjoyable,” Childe tests the waters by moving forward, humming in contentment when you lessen your grip as not to slice through his skin. “See? You’ve never even killed someone before. Call it intuition, but I don’t think you could.”

He reconsiders the proposition for a second. “Well, maybe if it was him...”

“You’re as insufferable as I remember,” you hiss, imbuing heat into your blade. Childe barely backs off and the unspoken threat. “Everyone who refuses to take me seriously comes to regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I fully agree with that. The Balladeer reduced you to nothing but a pretty little ornament. He underestimated you and this is the consequence.” Childe has an easier time maintaining eye contact than you do. It’s another minute detail that expresses the gap in your experience. You may be adequately trained in combat, but that pales in comparison when faced with a trained killer. This sorry charade will end the moment he wants it to.

Hate floods through your veins like venom. He’s looking down on you, just in a different way than how your husband would. Where Scaramouche was condescending and sadistic, Childe is brutally honest and teasing. It’s a split-second decision on your behalf, one motivated by the desire to prove this smug bastard wrong more than self-preservation. You loosen your grip on him and jump back. It’s not a lot of space, however, it should be enough to allow you room to react when he strikes.

He goes silent. It’s painfully obvious that he’s trying to get a read on you, now that you’re veering into unexpected territory.

“You were waiting for an opening, weren’t you?” Your words come out with more strength than you thought possible, deep from the chest and guttural. “Well, here you go. It’s the best you’re going to get.”

Childe blinks. Once, twice. His shoulders start to tremble, his chest following soon after, and he lifts his gloved hand to cover his mouth. Hearty laughter leaves his lips and pierces your self-esteem. You don’t understand what’s so humorous to him — though you’re well aware these Harbingers hold no humanity — repulsion flooding your system. This feels nostalgic in the worst ways possible. Early on in your marriage, Scaramouche would regard your resistance with a similar air of blatant dismissal, like your protests were nothing but a tantrum.

“You were wasted with him,” Childe’s loathsome cackling dies down, a maniacal grin splitting his face ear to ear. “Now I understand… the way you’re looking at me now is chilling. Exciting. In what ways have you evolved to survive? I love the fight in you, unlike him. Your adaptability is remarkable, like that of the most cunning prey. ” 

Prey. The dehumanizing word makes you frown, yet you remain firm in your stance. This is the best chance, you think, now that you’ve managed to surprise him once. There’s plenty more where that came from. Tendrils of molten flames, like they were stolen from the sun itself, would make for a considerable challenge. Harbinger or not, he should know better than to charge in without thinking twice when you hold a Pyro Vision.

His face returns to a more casual visage and he waves his hand. “I never had any intention of bringing you back to Inazuma. You think a Mora reward would be a good enough motivator for me to do that?”

“T-then why are you here?” You challenge, ever the skeptic. Childe can weave a tale of lies as much as he wants. That doesn’t mean you’ll allow yourself to be ensnared in it.

“I wanted to see how you’d react,” his nonchalant admission leaves you speechless. “Needless to say, you didn’t disappoint. A pretty face with the feist to match. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

“Oh, fuck off with that,” you snarl, your vision almost going red from the fury holding you hostage. Now that you no longer need to play the subservient partner, vulgarities come to you with ease, and you have no shortage of them for this blight in the flesh.

Childe’s smile widens. “No can do, I’m afraid. My curiosity has gotten the better of me this time. Could I tame you? Break your spirit better than he did? So show me your resolve to be free, sweet [First].”

He readies himself and you do as well. It’s in the dull illumination of the overhead lanterns that you realize there is no light in his eyes. How fitting, you think. That even his body has come to accept his lack of humanity.

“Go on. I’ll give you a ten second head start. After that... well, you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” 

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[jadequeen88]

Smart Girls Make Fast Learners

NSFW 18+ ONLY. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

My contribution to the BNHarem’s monthly collab. The theme was SEx work. ⛓This piece is a first real deep dive into darker themes and was actually really, really exciting to write. 🖤 A massive thanks to my dear friend @libiraki​ for beta reading this.

TW: yandere behavior, toxic relationship, degradation, non-con, dub-con, degradation/praise kinks, mind break, oral (M and F receiving), over stim, loss of virginity, mentions of physical violence.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone this type of relationship. This is a work of fiction and if this happens IRL please get out of the relationship!

There is a very specific type of dread that occurs when you discover that the person you built your world around has been lying to you. Tamaki Amajiki was experiencing this brand of betrayal for the first time in his twenty-one years on a rainy Tuesday in October in the dim lighting of your dorm room. His grip tightened around the open laptop as he stared at glimpses of flesh in the thumbnails of the many, many videos posted to the site. Previous live streams with thousands of views. He gulped down the bile in his throat as he scrolled through the videos. His shock and disgust morphed into a pure rage as he counted up the live streams that you’d had since first kissing him. 12. There had been twelve. Three times a week for the past four weeks. 

Those big doe eyes that looked into his eyes as you tentatively licked the tip of his cock for the first time… mere hours later they were rolling in the back of your head as you got off for strangers on the internet. He couldn’t take it. You were his first… everything… he knew that you hadn’t been innocent in your past. The way your tongue expertly wound around his when you first kissed him amongst your plush pillows and goose-down comforter reminded him of the fact. The low violet LED lighting of your bedroom made him feel like the two of you were in your own ethereal world. He could forgive you for not waiting for him as he’d waited for you. 

For the past four years, he kept to the shadows. He was there when the football player from freshman year cheated on you with one of your terrible friends (and when it happened the second, third, fourth time). He was there to binge your favorite shows with you (“*insert current guy you were fucking* just doesn’t get it, he’s not into it. I’m so glad I’ve got you to watch it with!”) He bit back the heartache that would wash over him when you’d pet him and coo over him… you didn’t see him as a man. He wanted to bend you over and prove he could fuck your brains out. He KNOWS he’d be perfect for you. But he never rejected the attention. He smiled and accepted whatever crumbs fell from your table. Whether it be helping you study or letting you complain about your shitty friends or your shitty jock boyfriends or your shitty parents… He gave and gave and gave… until that one day, 35 days ago to be exact, a shift in the tide occurred.

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“So why don’t you have a girlfriend, Tama-kun?”

“Wh-wha?”

Tamaki dropped the pencil he’d been using and before he could bend to get it himself, your hand was on his thigh and he was putty in your grasp. You giggled and cooed over him like you always did, but this time you did it while assaulting his mouth and neck with your skilled tongue. This time, for the first time, you made Tamaki feel like a man. Like YOUR man.

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Over the next few weeks, Tamaki had become quite skilled in pleasing a woman. It only took a little guidance to have him sucking at your clit with just the right amount of pressure. He learned on his own how to couple that with his long, delicate fingers twisting and pumping in and out of your slick hole. You’d cling to his silky hair, pulling him closer as a constant stream of praise tumbled from your lips:

“No one has ever made me feel this good.”

“Your fingers are perfect Tama-kun”.

“I love your mouth on me so much, baby.”

The first time you came on his face, Tamaki knew there was a god because he’d found heaven between your thighs.

But that was gone now… ripped away with one mouse click on the night he was going to finally give you his virginity. He had held on to it like it was a treasure. A treasure he’d present to you one day wrapped up in life-long devotion and worship... But Tamaki wasn’t in heaven anymore. He wasn’t going to worship you tonight. For the first time since laying eyes on you, Tamaki wanted to hurt you.

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You turned the shower off and dried yourself. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt like this was going to be the first time giving your body to someone. Tonight was a redo. You were wiping the slate clean. Your first time would no longer be underneath the football captain in the passenger seat of his truck, left feeling sore and unsatisfied. It was going to be with the guy you should have noticed long ago. It would be soft and slow… passionate and filled with sweet words and caresses… limbs tangled in soft sheets that smell like lavender and vanilla. 

You applied your lotion and moisturized your face. The red lace adorning your body was arranged perfectly, accentuating the soft swell of your hips and chest. With one last glance in the mirror and adjustment of your bra, you opened the door to the cool air of your dorm room…

...And saw Tamaki looking murderous. 

His eyes slowly left the screen to meet your gaze. His tear-stained face had never looked this harsh. His normally sweet eyes were narrowed and red from crying. The sweet lips you’d licked and sucked with such tenderness were hard and cold as they pulled upward in a grimace.

The only thing he said before rising from the bed and setting aside your laptop was your camgirl username. Then he was on you before you could draw a breath to explain.

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Tamaki always thought he liked you best on top of him showering him with kisses and threading your fingers through his hair, but he had to admit… having your arms tied to a bed frame with the silky sash of your bathrobe cutting into your skin was doing things to him. When you sniffled, face stained with tears and snot, his dick twitched in his boxers. The whines you were choking back behind the silky red panties stuffed down your throat sent chills up his spine. You had to learn the hard way not to spit them out after a harsh slap echoed against your skin when you fought back the first time.

Tamaki stood back to survey the mess of skin, spit, and tears for a moment. You were a blank canvas for him to mark up with his rage and lust. You tried to hide away your bare pussy by clenching your thighs together. It only spurred him on.

“Do you have any clue what you’ve done?” he hovered over you, sleek muscles rippling over your own soft body, “I waited, and waited, and WAITED,” he bit down on the side of your exposed neck and you screamed behind the silky gag, trying your best not to expel it from your mouth and receive more punishment.

“I want to give you everything, Y/N,” he licks over the bite, almost apologetically, “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want it to happen like this… FUCK, why?! Why did you ruin this?” his long fingers dug into your cheeks as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze. You couldn’t help whimpering and sniffling back more clear runny snot. You were so humiliated at how disheveled and disgusting you must look. His head ducked into the soft spot between your neck and shoulder and you felt him sob. 

Despite the abuse he’d inflicted upon you in the last ten minutes, you nuzzled your cheek into the top of his head in an attempt to comfort him. And he let you… he hated himself for it and he hated you for making this all so hard for him.

“No… no, no, no,” he rose from the bed to set up your ring-light and laptop, ice running through your veins at the sight. Your mind couldn’t accept what was about to happen.

“I’m... I’m not letting you get away with this,” he shook his head and pulled at his hair as he finished setting everything up, “If you’re insisting on being a slut, you’ll be MY slut. And everyone will know…” he jerked your ankle to force you flat on your back.

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Maybe if he’d let the gag out of your mouth, you’d be able to tell him this was just a job to you. That it was clinical… that he was the only one who had ever been able to get you off, that his face was the only one you’d come on… that you needed the money since your parents had disowned you…

But you only laid there, accepting whatever he was going to dish out. You knew he was hurt. You weren’t stupid. You overlooked him while knowing how he felt about you. It took years of horrible one-night stands and countless frat parties pretending that whatever guy you’d picked that night was interesting for you to come to your senses. You hated yourself for being so blind for so long… You adored Tamaki, truly. And you hated yourself for all the times you’d hurt him… so you swallowed your fear and tried to prepare yourself for whatever came next.

⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸

Any soft parts of Tamaki that you’d grown to love were gone, hardened by heartache and desperation. After angling the laptop to get the perfect shot, he started the live stream countdown. Subscribers started trickling in, commenting on how this was a pleasant surprise since it wasn’t one of your regularly scheduled streams. You shut your eyes to pretend this wasn’t real.

Without fanfare or warning, Tamaki ripped apart your thighs, exposing your bare slit. A raw shrill was pulled from your lungs, your back arching from the sting of an abrupt slap. Neurons fired off in your brain… were you in pain? Was it pleasure?

“Since my girlfriend likes to keep secrets from me, I can’t trust what comes out of her whore mouth,” he emphasized his point by stuffing his fingers past your lips, pushing the soaked silk further into your throat, “So she’s going to keep this gag right here until I can fuck the truth out of her,” he trailed his fingers along your reddened folds. Were you getting wet? Horror and shame blossomed in your chest. The fact that you were growing aroused wasn’t lost on Tamaki. His foreign, sadistic grin was back… aimed directly into your soul.  

“So that’s what you like, huh?” His nails bit into your thighs leaving tiny crescents behind, “I’ve been too nice? Too soft?” He pushed your thighs impossibly wide, the stretch causing you to moan. He hovered over your core, onyx orbs blown wide with a mix of hate and lust. Tamaki looked like the devil himself and you wondered just how fucked up you were for wanting his punishment.

He opened his mouth and lolled out his tongue, never severing the desperate gaze you both shared, his intertwined with hunger, yours with fear. You’d never noticed how long and thick his tongue was and couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel caressing every ridge and crevice of your inner walls. He flattened the warm, wet muscle and pressed it along your slit. As he slowly slid it closer and closer to your burning clit, you whimpered and bucked your hips chasing the pleasure you knew he was capable of giving… but this was not your sweet boy and he wasn’t doing any of this for your pleasure.

He slung his arm over your lower stomach and growled into your drenched lips. You were pinned down, helpless against his torturous tongue. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered how he’d let you pet him and buck into his face, how sweetly he’d ease you into a gentle release. Not this time… it was all teeth and sharp sucks, his tongue forcing you open violently. You were being shoved over a cliff and despite the horror and violence of what was happening to you. You were approaching an orgasmic state at record speed. Tamaki caught on and doubled down. The arm that wasn’t pinning you into the mattress pulled your leg down straight, your knee in a death grip. The new angle made the sensations even more intense. His face pressed harder into your core and you noticed that at some point, he’d started weeping, small sobs vibrating against your skin. The overwhelming mix of emotions and the vigor in which he was eating you shoved you over the edge.

He kept going along at the same speed with the same determination through your orgasm until it became painful. You pushed past it as best you could, allowing him to sob into your over-sensitive skin until he had his fill. As the pain started intermingling with pleasure, your legs shook and the gag couldn’t hold your screams back any longer. You released against his tongue once more, both of you sobbing. He laid against your thigh for what felt like an eternity before he lifted himself to lay on top of you, his hip bones digging into your soft thighs. You could feel the bulge through the thin material of his boxer briefs. Your hips rose to meet it, a pleading gesture filled with the desire to comfort and please him. Your eagerness encourages his mercy, there’s a meek cry that leaves your lips when the damp silk slips from between your teeth.

“Please baby… I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you…” your voice was as weak as a kitten’s cry and Tamaki couldn’t deny it made his heart (his dick) clench.

“Say it…” his lips were close enough to kiss, but you resisted… fearful of what he’d do if you did.

“Say what, Tama?” your eyes were wide with concern and confusion. You were desperate to please him.

He turned your face to the camera that you’d forgotten was there and the gravity of the situation crashed around you again. New tears leaked from your stinging eyes as Tamaki whispered into your ear.

“Say that you’re a lying whore…”

“I..I’m a lying whore…”

The last syllable broke as your abused throat grew accustomed to speaking again. He rewarded you with a soft kiss to your cheek and your eyes closed at the tender gesture. The familiar pain in your chest welled to the surface causing even more tears to escape.

“And tell everyone that you’re my own personal slut”

You repeated the phrase to the audience behind the screen and he hummed with approval, trailing one finger along your wet cheek. 

“Good girl…” the praise sent shivers through your wrecked body.

“And tell them from now on, your boyfriend will be the only one making you come… that they only get to see you be HIS slut.”

You noticed the chat going absolutely haywire at your announcement. Before Tamaki shut your laptop, you realized you’d made three times as much as you’d ever made before and a twisted sense of accomplishment filled your cloudy mind.

“Please,” your voice came out in a croak, “Please untie me. I wanna make it up to you,” his clothed bulge was burning into your core and you could tell he was close to breaking.

“Please let me make you feel good. I’m so, so sorry,” the clench of your thighs around his waist made him whimper.

He reluctantly pulled away to sit on the foot of the bed. The way he curled in on himself hugging his knees made him appear so small, so fragile… a complete change from the man who’d just manhandled you into restraints.

“You’re a liar…” you almost didn’t hear the whisper, his face buried into his knees.

“Please!” you were losing feeling in your hands and all you wanted was to be free to comfort him.

His eyes met yours and it was your Tamaki again... Your sweet boy… the snarling, green beast that threatened to devour you was sleeping now after it reached its fill of violence. He crawled over your body and released your restraint. Before you even regained feeling in your hands, you wrapped your arms around him. You littered his collarbone with sweet kisses and apologetic sobs. He began to melt into your affectionate gestures and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly close. Wet lips met and your tongues fought against each other for dominance. Hips began to roll against each other, increasing pressure until you both gasped. 

The violence was gone, but this was still not a gentle coupling like you’d been planning. Tamaki pulled away and freed his straining cock from his boxers. The skin-to-skin contact made your eyes roll back into your skull. You felt his long fingers grasp your throat, squeezing to remind you just how powerful they were. You shuddered in response, arching upward into his touch, chasing that high his dominance was giving you.

With one swift motion, Tamaki speared you onto his cock. With the minimal prep he’d given you, the stretch was agonizing. This was by far the largest cock you’d ever taken and it stole your breath from your aching lungs. You moaned earning a visceral reaction from the boy on top of you.  

Tamaki stayed as still as he could. He refused to come so soon… not when he’d waited so long for this. He tightened his grip on your throat and tentatively rocked his hips into yours. It didn’t take long for it to progress into the most frantic love-making you’d ever experienced.

There was no other way to describe it, he was hate fucking you… biting and sucking your chest until blood bloomed under your skin… hammering into your sore, sticky cunt with total abandon… he was using you like a toy, taking out all his frustrations on your body.

It was ecstasy.

When his hips stuttered as he met his release, the spasms of his tip against your gummy walls sent you into a painful orgasm. You were spent and it seemed like he was too. Your fingers twitched over the crown of his head, wanting to run your fingers through his hair but too scared to initiate any contact with him. As if he could read your mind, he grabbed your hand and placed it on his head. You sighed and began carding through the tangles, gently undoing them. You felt a stream of tears running down your chest as you worked your fingers through his strands. Lifting his face gently, you met his teary gaze with your own.

“Don’t…” he drew in a shuddering breath, “ever lie to me like that again…” the monster behind his eyes stirred quietly, a malicious glint in his eye, before shifting back into your gentle boyfriend. 

“Never, I swear to you, baby…” he lets you lift his chin gently to meet your lips. His eyes close and he sighs into your kiss. His muscles relax and when his eyes open again, his warm, adoring expression falls over your face. The hand that wanted to choke the life out of your eyes minutes ago now caresses your jaw tenderly,

“I trust you…” his lips turn up into a grin that’s just a little too wide, “Because you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?” his top lip brushed against your still trembling bottom lip…

“Y-yes…”

You were fucked. This whole situation was fucked up and you weren’t blind to the fact. But as Tamaki nuzzled into your neck placing soft kisses and whispering praises into your skin, you let yourself bask in the gentleness of the moment…

Because you were a smart girl and smart girls learn their lessons quickly... 

[nygmobblepot-trash]

Nygmobblepot Cooking Headcannons

Ed: Of course he can cook. If you think too hard about it, cooking is a science. And oh man is Ed good at science. Unfortunately he never cooks. This poor man lives like a college student during finals week, except Ed has had finals week every week for the past 15 years. So yes you can blame Oswald for being half the reason why Ed's fridge is filled with a variety of hand eaten different Chinese food that is expiring. He is so skinny, please someone feed him.

Riddler: No he is not the same as Ed. This fucker's ego is so big that he makes every dish inedible. Frankly it is quite impressive to be able to mess up that bad. He isn't even trying anything hard. He tried to heat up soup and it blew up. The heat was on low. How is that even possible? Because of this he is the other half reason why Ed doesn't cook. Riddler sees Ed as beneath him so when he realizes Ed can do something he can't, he loses it. Anytime Ed cooks this asshole goes on about how only the stupid can cook. And how he is a true genius and that is why cooking doesn't work out for him. Thus Riddler contributes to the various boxes in Ed's fridge.

Oswald: Yes. Yes he can cook. Listen I know you want to yell at me and say Oswald has people cook for him. He's above it (like Riddler). You're forgetting about the Queen. You cannot tell me that Mama Cobblepot did not teach her boy not to cook. She dragged his ass into the kitchen to cook because "if you can't cook for your special one, you'll lose them." So yes Oswald can cook his mother's recipes quite well. He doesn't do it because well... it would be wrong to cook without her. He does do it on occasion though. It is Ed's fault. Oswald went over to Ed's apartment once to complain to Ed about not being done with the plan yet. Oswald is a nosy fuck and opened the fridge and stood in horror for a good 5 minutes. After that he told Ed he would be back for the plans in 2 hours and left in a rush. 2 hours later Oswald comes back with several Tupperwares of soup (the kind with vegetables and potatoes, all the things a growing boy needs). Ed is in his own little world and doesn't know Oswald has stocked his fridge. So when he opens the fridge to find actual meals in there he is quite confused. As he doesn't remember making anything and knows damn well Riddler didn't make it.

[chechiv]

your longest twoteru story.

byakuya tried my dish today!

“mom! nobody wants to try what i cook in kindergarten!”

teruteru was heading towards the nursery school, holding his mother’s hand and complaining about not having enough communication with other children.

actually, it did bother nanoru a lot. if nobody was going to talk with hanamura, he would cry and get upset…

“did you offer your dishes to everyone? maybe you’ve forgotten about someone?”

“hmm… i remember. i told everyone and ibuki, she…”

teruteru stammered as he had started crying.

“she threw away what i’ve cooked, and then…”

he paused abruptly, starting to hug his mom and cry.

“she called everyone to watch me cry!”

the boy squeezed the sleeves of his mother's sweater tightly.

“i… i didn’t offer my meal to byakuya, he is always alone and i’m scared of him,”

“my darling, she’s just a silly little girl… but why are you scared?”

“yes! she is! i’m afraid of him because he’s always with a book,”

nanoru laughed, looking at her son.

“books are interesting! does he read them? wonder if there is a boy in your group who can already read, try to make friends with him,”

“I will try…”

he took his mother's hand again, and when they came and the woman left, teruteru sat in his corner again, looking at the toy products and at the children coming from his group. here came byakuya too, but teruteru decided not to approach right away, he must have a gift of some kind, right?

as today began, byakuya felt a little different. he went to kindergarten, not to socialize with anyone, but so his mother wouldn't worry so much while she was at work.

but here today, it was like someone was always watching him! and then looked down at his book again, and it wasn't even a fairy tale, it was some kind of fantasy.

and then, something very strange happened that had never happened to byakuya before.

“b-byakuya, hi!”

hanamura was standing in front of him with a toy egg on a plastic frying pan.

“hello…”

togami put the book aside, looking at the boy in front of him, in fact, he didn't even remember his name, or any of his classmates in general.

“and what is your name?”

teruteru was surprised by such a question and sat down in front of togami.

“i am teruteru! didn't you remember it before? everyone calls me…”

“a crybaby?”

it was byakuya who really remembered it, but he didn't think of him like that.

“you're not a crybaby, it's ibuki who's stupid,”

teruteru even blushed, does anyone think so too?

“mm… but I brought you something, look! when you want to be friends with someone, you bring a gift,”

byakuya looked at the toy food, but, hanamura had decorated everything so beautifully with some leaves and herbs that it looked very realistic.

“oh, do I have to try that?”

Byakuya knew that Teruteru would be younger than him in intelligence, but, he tried to be so sweet and kind.

“huh? if you don’t want, I don't force you to eat it, maybe it's not pretty, is it? let me redo it or…”

hanamura became so nervous again that he covered his face with his hands in shame. is he going to cry again?

“no! it's really beautiful, just like the real thing, here I am… mmm, delicious”

he took a plastic knife and fork as if cutting a piece and tasting it.

“delicious?”

teruteru raised his head at togami, blushing heavily. only his mother used to tell him so, and here he is! of course, the boy was greatly pleased.

“so you agree to be friends with me?”

it was a question that byakuya had not expected at all, but teruteru was also such a loner, and everybody laughed at him, but he wanted to take him under his protection as if…

“yes, but… I don't have a present for you,”

byakuya looked around.

“well… I can read to you! do you want to listen?”

teruteru was both pleased and surprised that togami could read after all.

“yes! what do you have, a fairy tale?”

togami smiled, picking up the book.

“no, it's a different genre - fantasy, it's a collection of short stories, let me read you one that I haven't read myself”

“sure, let's do it! but let's go somewhere else!”

teruteru took togami by his hand, guiding him somewhere. it was a place where teruteru was always alone. it was cozy and soft. like a hanamura hamster, crammed everything into his nook and basking. and it was definitely better here than in their first place, on the cold floor…

byakuya sat on the blanket and teruteru snuggled next to him, and when he listened to togami, he lay down on his shoulder, looking at his book.

byakuya did not read very well and stammered in some words, and teruteru often asked him what the words meant.

“bye, byakuya!”

“bye…”

all the children were already being taken home by their parents, but togami was still sitting in his room. his mother worked really hard, and byakuya was always the last one to be picked up from the daycare…

“mom, byakuya tried my dish today!”

teruteru walked home with nanoru and was over the moon, even though he was crying this morning.

“really? see? “

“yes! and also…”

hanamura began to tell how byakuya read to him, what a story it was, how they even fell asleep afterwards.

“well, it's good teruteru that you found a friend, take care of him,”

“yes, mother! I will take great care of biakua, and he will take care of me!”

(thank you if you read this, I'm a Russian fan of twoteru, but I don't get feedback on Russian social networks, so I will be glad for your support here, I really hope that you like it, and if I get motivation, I will write a continuation, this fanfic should be very long according to my idea! and thanks to @chuziano for translating the fanfic into english.)