#there’s nothing physical to tear apart (I just act like her sometimes and have to force myself not the throw up and attack myself from the | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vivihar · 3 months ago

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aaaah i love autistic sev!!! 🩷🩷🩷 i'm on the spectrum, not an expect of course, but i think severus and tom are on the opposite end of the spectrum, like severus does understand the concept of social cues, but conforming and acting and socializing with other people is not easy for him, so he chooses not to, is just his surly self, can come off as unsettling bcs of his interests (hence: sirius saying sev knew so much curses by the age of 11 🙄), but tom is that kind of person that can blend in and is well integrated, everyone likes him, he's a model student, he's enchanting, he knows what to say to make people like him and trust him, he can conform to typical social cues, but it all takes a huge toll on him. he likes the attention and the praising but he has a limit, gets overwhelmed, hates crowds, he gets irritable, has to hold back, needs his time and solitude to recharge bcs people are so exhausting! this is a front he's putting and it's tiresome to mask yourself like 70% of the day. it's different with severus ofc. it's all different with severus. like you say, he's not pretending around severus, he feels more at ease and can speak either boldly, cruelly (about other people), or just become more affectionate! in my mind, tom repels touch. doesn't like it. his mum is the only one that can come and cup his cheeks or get cheesy with him and he won't turn from or won't make him flinch (he's a mommy's boy), and then there's only severus whose touch he actively seeks. with severus he gets all handsy, has his hands on severus' waist, on the small of his back, wraps an arm around severus' shoulder, has his arms curled around severus' waist from behind, chin resting on severus' shoulder, he can't stop touching severus! and i like to think tom and sev as childhood bffs are always hand in hand, and physical comfort is super normal between them, but it's tom who is always initiating. i think tom is the happiest internally when severus is the one to cling to him or lean into him or tug at his sleeve in silent plea for affection. ;v;

"I sometimes think every time Severus refer something about himself as ugly Tom would kiss him there and scold him for it. Even before he realizes his feelings lmao he's so stupidly in love" THAT'S SO CUTE DJFJJDJDJDJDJFJ I LOVE THEM BEING LIKE THIS BEFORE THEY EVEN REALIZE ITS LOVE. like if it's your au and sev is sad or withdrawn bcs of his father's abuse, doesn't want to play or has a visible injury, tom will remember his mum sometimes kisses the scratches or cuts he gets before healing then, then hugs him, all to make it "better", so i can see tom attempting the same with severus, and it becomes custom between them.

AND YES THATS THE THING I LOVE ABOUT LILY AND SEV BEING FRIENDS IN THIS UNIVERSE is that tom would be so fucking jealous. it would be SO easy for tom to get rid of lily, to poison severus against her, even to use his mum's same tactics and get sev to magically love him, but he's too egocentric for something like that. tom doesn't want an artificial kind of devotion for severus, he wants severus to feel the same pull and codependency naturally, so he "spares" lily (in his mind he's sparing her BDJDJSJD) if only bcs he wants severus to naturally choose him over her (he still shit talks her whenever he can), and omg they hate each other. lily and tom am have the biggest rivalry, like you know how dumbledore was the only one who didn't buy tom's "good boy" façade? i like to think lily would be perceptive like this about tom. like everything surrounding tom seemed perfect, only rumors here and there, nothing concrete, but she doesn't like him, and tom obviously hate her ofc, and just like in canon lily would sometimes try to warn severus about how tom is "odd" to her, how he gives her this off-putting vibe, and severus gets defensive. this isn't the canon universe where their opposing beliefs teared them apart, so their only differences are teenage drama. (? sev is like "oh so you can date my bully and i have to accept it and remain alone, i can't have a friend of my own", and ofc lily says she doesn't mean it like that, they argue about this more than once, lily just claiming she wants the best for severus, severus accusing her of framing tom of things he hasn't done, sev loves lily a lot, but will still lie on tom's behalf to protect his image. lily and tom will always have this strained relationship, fake smiles and once in a blue moon some thinly-veiled cutting remarks. tom gets more confident with time though. like yes lily is the childhood best friend, big deal! he's severus' highschool sweetheart and will eventually trophy-wife severus one day, no need to worry.

"I feel like he would try his best to hide things he does so it wouldn't disturb Sev but every time Sev just gets little angry and they later cuddle he feels so happy because Severus just loves him that much and he just stupid he would want to do it more so he could see Severus chose him over and over again." YESSSSS yes this is what i mean with this being a huge realization for sev but specially for tom!!!! bcs tom then realizes he can do no wrong in severus' eyes. canon tom and tom in general quickly learn that some things are deemed "wrong" by society and outwardly puts an act about being "normal", when he clearly isn't, and clearly doesn't have enough emphaty like the rest, so to know that severus will accept him?? like him???? keep loving him even if he commits a little crime here and there? it's a heady sensation for tom. like oh, to be loved. to be cherished. and yes one could say "sev just wants to be loved, it's an intrinsic need of him that's why he excuses tom's every wrongdoing", but i think he just. loves tom as well. even if he wants to have a higher moral ground, tom's crinkling, almost red eyes and smile and warmth and wit - tom's everything, he can't turn from tom. can't reject him. tom could've psychologically or physically tormented someone and then come to severus to rest his head on sev's lap, grin up at him, and sev is floored, can't reject him, he's endeared and caresses tom's hair, tom can always come back to him after whatever terrible shit. :')

ndjfjdjjdj i don't really indulge too much on the idea of revenge on the marauders bcs i feel that life and canon fucked them over enough, but if tom is sharing an universe with sev, tom WOULD be tormenting them. i feel that it's inevitable. you harass or hurt severus and become a hindrance in his mind. you're riiiight he would find the way to make sirius' experience with werewolf!remus traumatic, (again, in tom's mind, that's what you get for almost getting severus killed), he's just a little insane like that. hell i can imagine him spiking sirius' drinks with really torturous hallucinogens, the kind of potion that have you seeing terrible visions, your worst fears etc. the first time tom does this it's in the great hall, everyone are having breakfast, sirius is drinking his pumpkin juice and suddenly he stumbled back from his seat and starts screaming, yelling, kicking, people are trying to calm him down. severus looks mildly disturbed from his seat at the slytherin table, tom is just hiding a smile behind his goblet, the evil shit BDBDBJDJDJDJDJ just silly evil things (?

canon lvss is insane bcs we're talking about someone who is so so so SO evil and uncapable of loving, but it's obsessed with the idea of having enough devotion from the rest of his subjects that he gets really annoyed when betrayed, hence why he goes so harsh on lucius. then he has to kill severus but it's obvious he's reluctant and drags it and isn't there an scene before he sends lucius to go fetch severus where he tells nagini "it's the only way?" as if steeling himself for the deed? he didn't want to kill him. it's so rare how patient and remorseful he gets about the entire thing. if he's telling nagini there's no other way, it feels that not even nagini wanted to go through with it HDBDJSJDJ it's... it's insane. sadly never explored. it's obvious too that even with sev being dead, v is shaken and appalled by the idea of sev having betrayed him for real. specially by the notion of sev having loved lily when sev surely lied to him and made him believe it was a crass, "physical" thing, no deep emotions at all. sad sad, i feel that tomerus and lvss should be more popular, there's a common interests basis here that's just not present in t!marry, harry may be good and kind but the entire ordeal of being connected to v was a chore to him. i just really wish people talked about v/tom and sev more. 😔

it's so nice to read you, your ideas are just lovely jdjfjdjf thank you for sharing them, they've made me feel more bold about sharing my own fucked up musings about them. 🩷

I'm gonna freak out here for a little THE SCREAMS İ LET OUT READING THİS OMG THİS İS AGHHXKDJDKDJD perfect, amazing and *chef kiss* everything you write just made me giggle, roll around and scream till the end. Ehem ehem anyway I'm normal again.

You're so right about their different spectrum, they do have a lot of similarities but their difference is more, that's what I love about them. Their roots may be the same but everything after that differs so much it's so interesting. Tom was at an orphanage but had some kind of power over kids, he didn't get hurt by them he hurt the kids, him having some kind of authority in his territory was enough for him to be confident and grow into his manipulative, easy to blend persona. And Sev, it wasn't same for him, he got beaten by one of his parents and was ignored by the other. He grew up wanting to be invisible so he wouldn't get beaten up. And these shaped their personality for their whole life and it stayed same, they never changed.

(also Sirius saying that was always so funny to me because boy you grew up in the wizarding world and Severus knows more than you?? I think you should be ashamed lol)

Tom acting to gain power and tricking everyone but still getting irritated by it is just a perfect description of his character. Like Tom didn't have the power to do anything about it when he was young but we see how Voldemort treats his followers, if they just piss him off a little he uses crucio on them. He hates people and makes himself interact with them, Severus isn't comfortable with people and hides from them. Tom loves to show people how talented he is and trick them to praise him for it, Severus hides his talents because he's scared from what happened to him as a child, when someone praises him he just gets so overwhelmed with it. Because it's so rare for him (and Tom uses it to his advantage of course). I also think Tom enjoys playing with people so much. He hates masking himself but he finds it fun how much he could trick people with different acts.

I think the most romantic thing about them is this. Tom has a mask with everyone but when it comes to Severus he doesn't even realize his mask is long gone, his mind peaceful he doesn't calculate what to say next when they're together. He just says what he feels and that something he can't risk with any single other person. He knows how Severus is loyal when it comes to people he loves (which he's so smug about when he figured that Severus loves him lol tommy you aren't really that behind too.) so he just drops his guard around him. He wouldn't do this with other people he knows are in love with him or attracted to him because they aren't Severus. His trust in Severus isn't only because of his feelings (the one he is not aware of lol I like point out how stupid he is when it comes to his feelings) for Sev. It's because he knows Severus's personality deeply. Also he probably likes to recharge by speaking with Sev. He's like "yeah tell me everything about you learned today, dark art, potions, oh you're working on a new spell? I'm listening." He needed this after those lie and empty flatterings he made with everyone that day. Not that he would ever confess that lol. And Severus would be so eager for it. Because people never try to cross his walls and be friends with him but Tom did and Tom has a smart mind like him so they would speak for hours every time they start to talk. They just *sigh* they're soulmates your honor I do not care what anyone else says.

And I can't express how much I screamed when I read this part but you guys could try to imagine it. Oh my god I love you so much you have no idea how this made me happy 😭 I literally reread my own posts about them to see anything about my ship (pathetic lol😭) and here you write about them easily AAAAAAA ehem anyway I'm back sorry and thank you.

Mama's boy Tom is so real and another thing I love is how he has in common with Severus. (My dearest Mama's boys). And I think we're reading each other's minds, I made a post about how much Tom gets affected when Severus is the one touching him first. It's so easy for him to touch Sev, his hands are always on Severus one way but Severus doesn't dare to be the first one to start it. He's observant he knows Tom doesn't like getting touched but he doesn't realize he's an exception or he does it's just he can't accept that fact. Sometimes when he is just full of emotion by something Tom does, he would look Tom with his eyes shining, asking him for it without saying anything but Tom wouldn't touch him, he wants Sev to get used to touch him first especially if he's the one who wants it first. And Severus would do it, because he wants to satisfy Tom and he loves how much Tom becomes happy when he does it. Severus's touches would be so soft too, Tom would always feel like he's melting under those hands.

AND AAAAAAAJCMDKDJAAAAAA omg Tom kissing Severus's scars omg how could I never think about that. I'm crying *SCREAMİNGROLLİNGDYİNG* they're just so good.

Jealous Tom is my everything 😭 I love how your brain works. He would think he's the one in charge and "let them" be friends (which is... Kind of true, if he tries he could easily get rid of their friendship) and like you said he would rather Severus come to him freely but I also know that crazy boy would do something to Lily instantly if Severus comes any closer to choose her not that it would ever happen. I like Snily but if Tom was the same age as them Severus would be too intoxicated by Tom's affection to feel any romantic emotions towards Lily.

(And since Tom shit talks about anyone Severus wouldn't find anything strange about Tom talking like that about Lily too lol. He's jealous Sevvy open your eyes.)

I actually need these idiots lmao I know I would have so much fun reading Tom and Lily 'fighting' a lot for Severus and Severus is tired of their shit. I like to think Lily had feelings for Severus when they were kids. So when Tom's become Severus's friend easily at 11 Lily would be jealous and try to find problem in Tom but with time her feelings for Sev would just remain as friends and she would realize there is really a problem with Tom she just can't find any evidence for it because Tom is so good doing it secretly. And it would irritate Tom how Lily doesn't fall for his act, if she did it would just be easier to deal with her lol he would hate he doesn't have a control over Severus's life about something.

Lily getting together with James could make things complicated if she and Severus didn't fall apart like canon. Which it would make easier for Severus to defend Tom, he's a smart boy and under Tom's influence he would guilt trip Lily for it every time Lily talks bad about Tom. And Tom would be giggling in the background lmao.

At some point Lily would keep hate of Tom but Tom wouldn't care about her when he has Severus (finally) for himself. His irritation to her was just because Severus was close to her but now Severus is with him all the time or when Severus meets someone he would be at his side too so he doesn't care about her, he even sometimes forgets her existence. And trophy-wife Severus!!

I love how we think the same about their relationship lol it makes me happy because yay I'm not delusional it would actually happen.

Also what makes Severus special to Tom about accepting his "wrongdoings" is either other people would accept him because they don't have empathy to see it as wrong just like him or well they would call him he's a monster because of his acts but Severus has the empathy, he knows it's wrong and he's still in love with him, he still would touch his face softly, he still would laugh with him when he comes back killing someone. That's what is special about Severus.

I agree with you, at first he may not care about what Tom does because he wants to be loved but these things would be small problems, things like marauders would do and get away with it. But when Severus falls in love with him, just like you said, Tom could come back covered with blood and Severus would clean him because Tom asked for him. He wouldn't care about blood he couldn't keep his morals high when Tom comes to him like that stiff at the door and expecting Severus to finally snap at him for his "bad" side. And Severus would sigh and welcome him with a smile.

LoL yeah what happened marauders in Canon was enough for me but it's kind of impossible for them to not get hurt when V|Tom is involved with Severus. At this point it's Tom in my brain laughing every time he thinks new way to torture them lmao I don't even hate them I just don't care about them and suddenly they're in my brain when 'Tom' wants to do something to them. (Does that make sense 😭?)

Omg the drink is genius lmao that smart evil shit I love him. Severus would side eye him when it happens and Tom would smile showing his teeth when he sees it and say "if you're disturbed by that stupid dog we could go darling." (Btw what do you guys think Tom would use to call Severus. I need your help lol).

Btw prank would go much more different if Tom was there. He would know about it because Tom always is alert about where Severus is and when he doesn't see him in bed he would look for him, or maybe he would hear his talk with Sirius or he would see James dragging him to school and before Albus could interfere (I think Albus did some magical contract or something like that for Severus to not say anything about Remus's condition or something else who knows I don't remember if there was any information about it) Tom would ask what happened and learn about werewolf thing. He would use it wisely lol.

Also I'm still laughing at that silly 'prank' of Tom making Sirius like that lmao ahhh I really need Tom with Severus in school it would be so fun.

And yes V was talking to himself before he could kill Severus and he also tried to explain to Severus why he must do this. Severus constantly said he needed to go back to war so he could bring Harry to V (he was afraid something would happen H) and V scolded him several times for it but didn't kill him instantly. He still keeps explaining to him why he's going to kill him. Also I think he said "I regret it" two times is so crazy. He also turned his back before he could see Severus's death body, I don't care if j*r made it so he would look like he doesn't care it didn't work j*r I'm seeing that whole interaction other ways lolol.

I love the idea of Nagini liking Severus. When I read Tomerus fics I usually can't wait to see their interaction lol they can't speak and understand each other but the idea of them being close and Tom being so happy because two of them only thing he cares about is just perfect perfecttttt.

I'm not really interested in t!marry mostly because I come into this fandom for Severus and the most interesting ship of him for me was between him and Tom. I do like Harry's char but I didn't come into fandom for him lol that's why I don't really care about t!marry. İt's not about Harry either I don't read anything about any other chars, I only read Tomerus at the moment and sometimes things about Ron because well don't come at me but Harry's trauma wasn't showing itself (j*r and her bad writing, like women I can't believe you avoided a lot of good psychological part of chars) but Ron, Ron acts on his insecurities. I love when we see chars and their life affecting them. Maybe because I don't remember but Harry doesn't give me that feeling in my mind, but we could see them on Severus which again is the reason why he's my fav and I'm more into Tomerus. And yes I wish they were more popular. I'm trying to learn to draw so I could make art for them but it looks impossible I don't think I could learn how to draw anytime soon. And writing sucks for me because it's not my first language and British has different slangs I can't keep up with, the time difference etc. My focus problem wouldn't let me write a fic in general lol. I just try to post about them as much as I can.

And thank you for sharing your ideas too. I always felt like someone would come out and say "you just make them ooc" but you understand so well and make me feel seen 😭 you always can yap any idea about them I would just die from happiness. You're the first person to say anything about their relationship voluntarily. (lol there was a thing in twitter tell me ship I will tell my opinions on them so as you can imagine I made everyone to talk about them😭😭) This just makes me so happy and gave me confidence to post about them being fluffier than I already make them 🙂‍↕️. Again thank you dear I really enjoyed reading your comments🧡

#severus snape #tomerus #tom riddle #voldemort #lvss #tom marvolo riddle #severus x voldemort #death eaters #sniddle #snoldemort

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wrenreid · 2 years ago

Text

Just Acting

all chapters in master list

Chapter Sixteen

The silhouette peers from the window of Delilah's bedroom. Her curtains had been moved, and there's a small slit where the glass isn't blocked by the fabric.

The sight seen by the shadow is sickening. Delilah, her boss, lays in her bed, head resting on her boyfriend... Spencer Reid.

It takes all of Jenna's strength not to lose her temper... but she knew if she did anything stupid, she would sell herself out.

Delilah would be hers soon. Patience.

_____

Even though Gubler makes you want to strangle him sometimes, you couldn't resist him yesterday. You couldn't deny the fact that you wanted what he wanted. And you couldn't deny that you wanted him.

You haven't spoken since you kissed in your trailer. In all honesty, you have no clue what to say to him. What happens now?

Luckily for you, you're done with filming for the week. Some time alone to set your mind straight could be beneficial.

Drinking the iced coffee you just made, you sit up on your bed, legs crossed in a pretzel. Thoughts run through your brain, making you feel like a confused child. It's time to decide if you truly want something with Matthew.

He's an asshole, right? So why do you want him? Nothing could ever work between you two; you're in totally different worlds. Colliding them could end poorly. Some type of World War III could emerge from the two of you clashing.

You're being dramatic, you tell yourself.

It's not like you have true feelings for Matthew. He's just attractive in the worst way...because he's hot and really knows how to brew up anger within. He thinks the same about you. Purely physical could work. If he wants it like that too.

You've never been the type of woman to use someone for their body or use someone at all. This is just... different is the only way to describe the situation

_____

"Wow Reid, you look extra perky today," Alvez says as he sips his cup of coffee.

Reid shrugs, smiling to himself.

"Someone had a fun day off, huh?" He winks.

"I-"

"I can see it on your face. You got lai-"

Emily Prentiss clears her throat, then tells everyone to meet in the briefing room. Spencer takes this opportunity to get out of the conversation with Luke quickly, leaving his desk to walk with JJ to the table.

___

"So like just... sex?"

"Basically,” you nod with a slight shrug.

"Aw, you think I'm hot," Matthew shoots you a smug look.

You roll your eyes. "It baffles me too."

He acts offended by that comment for a brief moment. "I'm down. Friends with benefits."

"Except I wouldn't call you a friend."

"Oh come on, you adore me, Y/n."

"Whatever helps you sleep."

"So we're doing this?" He asks, his lips tugged upwards.

"If it's want we both want, then yeah,” you tell him.

"We won't tell anyone, right?"

"Oh fuck no. I can't have people knowing I tolerate you sometimes," you chuckle, not exactly joking.

"Tolerate is an understatement for what we're going to do, but I see your point. It won’t be a secret, just our situation and only ours. I don't really want the rest of the cast being all in our business,” Matthew says.

You nod your head. "And fans. Oh god, they'd probably kill me. Eat me alive. Tear me apart.”

Matthew stifles a laugh. "They can be sort of crazy."

"That’s an understatement. Youshould probably go now," you say with a small smile.

"You don't want to do anything now?" He raises his eyebrows in a teasing, half joking manner.

"Tempting, but you should get some sleep little boy. I've got a few plans for you." You ruffle his hair, standing above him as he sits on your couch.

"Don't turn me on now," he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes, laughing. "Goodbye, Gubler." Matthew stands up, making his way to your apartment door.

“Last names,” he groans, “I thought we were past that. Can I at least get a kiss?"

"Hmm no," you say with a gloating grin.

"So mean,” Matthew groans again.

You smile again as he leaves. Teasing him should be pretty fun.

—————

"Ground rules?" His brows raise.

"Yes, Gubler, we need ground rules."

"You suck the fun out of everything."

You frown, cutting your eyes at him and furrowing your brows.

"I'm kidding," Matthew says small grin.

You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath. "I just think rules would make this whole situation easier to manage."

"Ah yes, it's so sexy when you talk plans to me,” he says sarcastically.

"You're a pain in my ass, Gubler."

Matthew winks, "You like it. I have an idea for my first rule.”

"Go ahead."

"No last names when we're alone. You can only call me Gubler on set."

You sigh, "Fine. Deal."

"Any rules for me, hot stuff?"

"No flirting,” you tell him.

"What?"

"You can't flirt with me."

"Sex without flirting? That's awkward as shit,” he says with distaste.

"Flirting while we're alone is acceptable, but only when we're doing 'business'. When we're with anybody else, we're our usual selves who don't like each other,” you say.

Matthew chuckles, shaking his head.

"What?" You ask.

"You said business," he chuckles again.

"You're stupid. Any more rules you can think of?"

"Not really. You?"

"I wrote a few down earlier today,” you say, moving to grab something.

"Of course you did," he says under his breath.

You show him the notebook you just grabbed. There's a few lines written down on the page. "One: no one can know. Two: if one of us wants to try something new, we must ask the other first. Three: we're each other's only partners. Four: no strings attached..."

He furrows eyebrows with a sigh. "Okay."

"That's all you have to say?" You ask, writing down rules five and six.

"Yeah. I guess I just wasn't expecting intricate plans and details about sex..." he says, "But I guess I should've known since it's you."

"Well, you can back out,” you tell him.

"I could, but I don't want to," Matthew shoots you a soft look.

"Then it's settled," you give him a small smile, offering your hand to shake.

He grabs it, returning the hand shake. "You're such a nerd," Matthew shakes his head with a chuckle. "Can we have sex now?"

You laugh, "Actually, Matthew, I have somewhere to be. You and the little ones can wait."

He makes a choked sort of coughing noise, "Damn, you're really evil.”

"Get used to it, babe."

"Ooh pet names... that should be on the list. Use pet names,” he grins.

"No!" You laugh, gesturing for him to walk through the door.

"Byeee," he says, fluttering his fingers in a wave.

"Goodbye, weirdo."

You shut the door after him, shaking your head in a smile. This morning, the girls had asked you to go to a bar tonight and dance. Obviously, you couldn't say no or Aisha would barge into your apartment and drag your ass outside. And you can't go to a club in sweats.

After turning on the shower, you strip out of your grey wears and black sweater. The water heats up as you take your hair out of the ponytail and wash your face. You step into the shower, the running water splashing onto your skin and hair. You wash your body and your hair before shaving. Quickly, you rinse off once more and step out.

Luckily, December isn't too cold in LA, so club clothes are still acceptable. You pick out a dress, black tights, and black boots. You dry off your body as the leave-in in your hair seeps in. After slipping on a set of white under garments, you head back into the bathroom and dry your hair the rest of the way. You straighten your brown locks, apply makeup, then step back into your bedroom to change.

The velvet green dress hits you just below mid thigh. You pull up the (mostly see through but still thick enough) black tights past your hips and step into the black boots you set beside your bed. You feel pretty good about this outfit. After grabbing a black jacket, your keys, and your bag, you head out of the apartment and down to the parking lot.

You're picking up Aisha, because knowing her, she's going to get super drunk and need a driver. You head to her place, music playing from the radio.

"Hey, hot stuff," Aisha says as she gets into your car.

"Hey!" You smile.

The two of you head to the bar and meet up with the other girls. Aj and Paget invited Kirsten, and you're excited to meet her again. You were sad she left the show before you got a chance to actually talk to her.

Music can be heard from outside of the club's doors.

"Nice to actually meet you, Y/n."

"Nice to meet you too!" You smile.

"So are we going to party or what?" Paget says, grabbing you and Aj by the wrists and dragging you into the club.

The five of you head straight for the bar to get in a quick drink to loosen up. After throwing back a shot, Kirsten turns to you and says, "You dance newbie?"

"Not usually, but I'm afraid I'll be killed if I don't."

"Ya got that right," Aj winks.

All of you girls head to the dance floor, music somehow getting even louder as you make your way to the center. You follow along with the other women, moving to the beat. Occasionally, some talk is made, but mostly you guys just yell the lyrics to the songs you know.

After a bit, you and Aj head back to the bar, taking a break from the dancing.

"I'm glad you came with us tonight," she says over the music.

"Yeah me too," you smile.

The others join you quickly, ordering a new round of drinks. You only drink half, knowing you need to stay sober. Soon enough, you guys are back on the dance floor, dancing and scream- singing to your hearts' content.

You notice people taking pictures of you guys, but the others don't seem to care. They must be used to it, the price of fame. Luckily, no one really wants to disrupt the fun you're having.

"You looked really hot in that dress"

You put away your phone, not answering the text from Matthew in front of people. You head to the bathroom. In the mirror, you wipe away the smudged eyeliner under your eyes and dab the little droplets of sweat from your hairline.

"Hmm too bad you won't be seeing me in it in person."

"We'll see about that."

You smirk, putting your phone back in your bag. He must've seen pictures someone posted on the internet of you girls.

The night out ends around 12:35am. You drive Aisha and Kirsten to their places since both of them decided it was a good idea to have well over four shots and normal drinks.

Once both of them are safe in their homes, you head back to your apartment. Matthew stands outside your door.

You clear your throat, letting him know you're approaching.

He looks up, leaning his hand against the door in an attempt to be seductive. He looks down again, "My timing wasn't great. I thought you'd be coming home sooner."

You chuckle, "A for effort."

He scans his eyes down your body. "Damn."

"Oh shut up."

"No seriously, damn." He looks at you again, licking his lips involuntarily. His eyes raking over your body put a million thoughts in your head.

You like that he doesn't seem to care that you're heavier than most girls, or at least the girls that he's used to working with and probably used to being with.

"So I'm assuming you thought you'd get lucky tonight?" You say, leaning against the back of the couch.

Matthew stands there a bit stunned.

"Well are you going to kiss me or just gawk at me, pretty boy?"

He steps forward, closing the door behind him. He grabs your hand and pulls your body against his. Matthew presses his lips to yours, beginning one of the best nights you’ve had with anyone.

seventeen

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @danis-stuff-is-here @kylakins88 @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @inlovewithcharmers @kylakins88 @f-me-reid <3

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scxttershot · 1 year ago

Text

So I copied this over from my Discord rants last night - a brief text-based analysis of Floyd Lawton's character depth.

Re. Possessing no outward feelings except sarcasm and general assholery, suppresses everything else, subconscious belief that we deserve to be punished, chronic intimacy issues probably stemming from how fucked up his family is, actively suicidal with a death wish, debatably has 0 redeeming qualities on the surface, generally homicidal [bitch me too to all of this!!!!]. Despite everything, Floyd cares. He wouldn't be around other people by choice if he didn't. Waller has canonically offered him the chance to walk several times, as he's served multiple sentences. He wouldn't have damn near agreed with Peter/Ragdoll saying the Secret Six were his family if he didn't. Wouldn't have manipulated a doctor at gunpoint into telling a young woman who he at that point barely knew that she didn't accidentally cause her father's end stage lung cancer re. Lori/Black Alice. Also yeah his flings with Jeannette, Michelle, etc. were a lot more than just sex if you read Deadshot: Bulletproof or Gail Simone's Secret Six series, there's actual romance and protective feelings there. Susan Lawton who knows, it's hard to say and I really think what they had completely fell apart after their son was murdered, + her character wasn't super developed. In any case it's the classic machismo thing of "showing human emotion makes you weak and a liability" coupled with what I'm damned sure is PTSD. The reaper follows Lawton like a shadow. re. The Get Out of Hell card, he specifically steals it because he doesn't want to watch the Six tear each other apart over it. Also re. Floyd cares, 1987 Suicide Squad: he went with Digger to Digger's mother's funeral as a plus one and stuck around without even being asked. Meanwhile the entire time he's claiming not to like Captain Boomerang.

And eventually, Floyd breaks out of that hard shell a little. It takes fucking RAGDOLL calling him [and Catman] out over it, and it's literally the final issue of the 2008 Secret Six series, but he's genuinely concerned and pained when Catman gets shot. For reference. If the guy who replaced all his joints with cybernetics and banged his own sister calls you out and makes an actually good point while doing so, that is both concerning and something you should probably listen to. Earlier in the run he also cares enough about Thomas to ask him personally to chaperone a date with Jeannette because Floyd is legitimately scared she'll take advantage of him, also. Is that referring to physically? Sexually? Emotionally? Probably all three. But nothing happens. Like. Damn. There's not a lot of content that goes out of its way to specifically show that a lot of Floyd's generally abrasive personality is an act. AS IT STANDS given pre-Crisis on Infinite Earths Floyd Lawton, lately DC has made him far too sympathetic for a homicidal contract killer. There is a very fine line between "likeable asshole" and "this is watered down to the point where sometimes it's but the vapor of a character". We need a balance, DC. And I hope, one day, someone can write that again.

#OOC - the mun speaks #Deadshot #Deadshot DC #Floyd psychoanalysis

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tlexx · 2 years ago

Text

Anthem of The Angels: The Knight

The Spartan

Warnings: Talk of grief

In Collaboration with @streamsofstardust

Evangeline sat on the couch of her apartment, sipping on her favorite tea while reading through her books again. It was a daily occurrence leading up to the blessed day where she crossed paths with her beloved. A repeated action that kept her focused, while simultaneously taking up time she couldn’t bear to think about. In all those years after Joshua’s death, she’d spend time grieving profusely, a lot of time, if she was honest. While she didn’t necessarily love most aspects of the way mortals lived, she found a bit of calm in acting as though she was one, even if it was brief.

The problem, Eve found, was that centuries had passed and she still had yet to find anything that would help her. Not a single book in her possession had any insight into how to break this wretched cycle. It hurt her deeply, the fact that she was somehow blessed and cursed with having a mortal soulmate. If there was someone she hurt in the past, someone who felt the need to burden her with this pain, she didn’t know. She didn’t understand why she was the only one going through this, why no other angel had been in her position.

Sometimes she wished it would end, the cruelty of repeating the same sole week over and over and over. Sometimes she spoke to her father, pleading on her knees with tears in her eyes to make it stop. But everything she prayed for fell on deaf ears. No one was going to help her. No one was going to explain why it was happening to her, and only her.

She felt a heavy weight in her chest, her nose tingling as a sign of impending sobs. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as best as she could. Her tea had gone chillingly cold while she was lost in her thoughts. The words on the page she had been reading were bleeding together and she swore she had read that very page at least ten times. Frustration overtook her and she resented the feeling. She hated how agitated she had become over the years, seldomly finding any peace or comfort. When the moments of anger and bitterness seeped through to the surface, she felt less and less like herself. Envy and wrath were deadly sins. She felt more like the mortals she observed.

Eveangeline placed her tea on the coffee table and slammed her book shut, dropping it next to the cup. She tossed her head back onto the couch, rubbing her hands over her face and willing herself to find peace. As she counted her breaths, a repeated action of extremely slow inhales and exhales, her phone rang, causing her to jump. Modern technology was still one of those mortal things she hadn’t gotten completely used to.

She roughly sat up and grabbed the phone, flipping it over to see the notification and smiling when she saw Joshua was calling her.

“Joshua.” She greeted him, immediately finding the calm she had been desperately searching for throughout the night.

She heard his sigh of relief on the other side of the call, her hearing being well beyond the average mortal’s.

“Good morning, Evangeline. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Her lips twitched into a smile, though it dropped immediately when she glanced back at the books spread out on her coffee table. She shook her head, willing herself to remain relaxed by the sound of his voice.

“Not at all, I was just reading.” The subject matter wasn’t an important detail to include, she wouldn’t be able to explain the issue to him anyway. Her finger absently slid down the leather binding of the book while she listened to his even breaths coming from the other end. They were exactly like she remembered, she was just thankful that it was no longer a heart wrenching memory.“What can I do for you, Joshua?”

“Nothing, nothing I just, I know we have plans for this evening but I really don’t want to wait that long. I don’t think I physically can.” He chuckled as he spoke. She could hear the nerves in his voice, but it was endearing. “I was wondering if you’d like to meet up sooner? There’s a park nearby on the lake with a beautiful view. I was thinking we could go for a walk?”

She smiled at his words, basking in the joy that he had the same pull to her that she had towards him. If only he knew why.

“Yeah, uh. It’s kind of last minute but I might be able to make it.” She had been waiting for twenty-five years, but she knew he enjoyed the chase.

“C’mon! I promise I’ll make it worth your wild.”

“I think the phrase is worth your while.” Evangeline chuckled at his sureness. Joshua never had to be correct in what he said, he was so charismatic that anything that fell from his mouth was charming.

“Tomato, potato.” The two laughed together lightly, before it phased into a comfortable silence. “So… is that a yes?”

“I don’t think I could say no to you even if I tried.”

“That’s what I like to hear. See you in an hour?” She could picture his smile in her head as he spoke, recalling the small gap between his front teeth that she found to be precious.

“Make it forty-five minutes.” She quipped back, knowing he’d appreciate it.

“Anything for you, Eve.”

“Eve?��

“Is that alright?” He rushed it out, embarrassed by the nickname he gave her.

“It’s more than okay, Joshy.”

“Good.” There was a short moment of silence, yet she knew he was smiling. “See you in forty-five minutes?”

“Make it thirty now.”

“Demanding, it’s kind of cute.”

“Bye, Josh.”

Evangeline hung up before he could say anything else. There was a deep shade of pink lovingly strewed across her cheeks. No matter what century, Josh was able to make her feel butterflies and blush with just the mere thought of his smile. He was inevitable, the only thing keeping her pressing on year after year without him.

It didn’t take long for her to get to the park, but she did have enough time to grow anxious. Even knowing that this date would go well, knowing that the two would quickly fall in love, she was extremely nervous to see him again. More so because she knew this could be the last of firsts.

The thin paved path was shaded by large oak trees while being outlined with bushes and flower boxes. It was already a romantic scene, but seeing Josh sitting on the light brown park bench twirling his thumbs while anxiously looking around, made it appear out of a golden aged romance novel. Josh looked around the park, craning his neck back and forth to look for the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about. Every time there was the slightest of noise or movement behind him, he’d whip around looking to see if it was his Evangeline.

She, on the other hand, took her time. Even with the limited amount she had, Evangeline felt the need to observe every detail that made Josh himself in this time. She had seen him clean shaven, but in this era he chose to have the cutest facial hair. His style was more relaxed than it had been before, in all honesty he seemed more relaxed than he ever had been. There was something so peaceful about this Josh, something that told her he was truly happy. Which made her stomach drop. This Josh felt complete. He was fully aware of who he was and wanted to be, and that made her sick to her stomach. He only had six days.

“Evangeline!” His sweet, smooth voice called for her. Instantly picking her up from her deep worry.

Josh came running over to her, a wide smile taking its natural place on his face. He stopped a few steps short of her, not knowing exactly how to proceed.

He put his hands out for a hug, quickly dropping them, and then raising them just as quickly. Evangeline closed the gap between the two, pulling Josh into a hug for the first time in twenty-five years. She hugged him as tightly as she could, relishing in the feeling of his arms around her once again. His arms tightened in response, as if he too subconsciously missed that same feeling. He smelled the same, he always did. A sweet musk that only he could pull off.

“Good morning!” Evangeline giggled while squeezing him back.

“It really meant a lot that you met me so early.” Josh broke the hug, shyly smiling at the ground.

“It’s no problem at all.” She waited for him to look up again before continuing. “I wanted to see you.”

“Really? I mean, um, yeah me too.”

The pair started down the path, silently, allowing their hands to bump one another’s a few times. Evangeline tried her hardest not to just grab his in her own, but she wasn’t sure if that was too much too soon for the modern boy who, as far as he was aware, was meeting her for the very first time.

“So, tell me about yourself. Where are you from?”

“Up north.” It wasn’t technically an incorrect statement.

“Oh me too! I’m from Michigan.”

“A bit more north.” She smiled at his excitement. He was always so joyous no matter the occasion.

“Ah, a Canadian.” Josh took control of the conversation, telling her about his favorite sights to see in Canada and all of the things he got to experience while visiting. This was not news to Eve, she had been following this version of Josh Kiszka for as long as she could. The instant that his name started popping up online, she had been his biggest fan.

“I don’t know how you guys did it, poutine, it’s like something from heaven.”

“I’m not sure I would go that far.” Evangeline purposely bumped Josh’s hand once more, this time he took the bait. His soft slender fingers intertwined with hers, gently swinging back and forth as they continued down the path. “If it’s alright with you, can we skip the small talk?”

“Sure, but uh, what do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Tell me your biggest goal in life.”

“Oh wow. Okay.” Josh took a moment to think. She could tell he already had an answer with how quickly he smiled, yet he took his time to articulate his point. “I think my biggest goal is to give joy to as many people as I can. To give people a place they belong, some comfort, even if it is just for a moment. See, my brother's dream is to make music and inspire others. I love making music, but I love the connection with the fans even more. I like knowing that I’ve done something to help someone.”

“That’s quite beautiful, Josh.” His looks hadn’t changed all that much, yet this Josh seemed more conscious and caring than those before. The thoughtfulness and love that this Josh seemed to have for life was something that Eve knew was going to be even harder to say goodbye to. She pushed that thought away just as fast as it had appeared in her mind.“Do you have a favorite part?”

Josh stopped at a large rose bush that was on his left. It was fully in bloom, not a rotten or dead rose on it. It was perfect, and it should be, as Eve had willed it. She knew she should not have used her divinity, she didn’t have much left, but this seemed like the perfect moment to put a divine rose bush in his path. Like a miracle.

He looked around, finding the fullest one, carefully picking it from the bush. It was white rose on a long stem that surprisingly had no thorns. He handed it to Evangeline with a soft sensitive smile.

“When I hand someone something as simple as a rose and it makes them so excited that they may even cry. Something that little can make one person forget about all of their troubles. And even if it’s for just a moment, I know I made them happy, and that’s all I could ask for.”

Evangeline gently took the rose from Josh, looking up at him through her lashes as she did so. His eyes were glazed, nearly wet with emotion, and she couldn’t bear to look at him. Rather, to save herself from crying, she focused on the pristine rose between her fingers. It was as beautiful and meaningful as the one he gave her thousands of years ago, when he courted after the shy peasant girl she pretended to be.

______________________________________________________________

The weather was gloomy. A sky covered in a vast overcast, fog flooding the space around her, and a slight mist taking the place of rain that had previously been falling. Despite her surroundings, Evangeline felt calm. She felt a slight presence of peace knowing what was soon to come.

She had been walking around for quite some time that day, dressed in tattered clothing and shoes that were barely staying together. It was a facade, of course, but she needed a look that would be inconspicuous. Her hair had been curled loosely down her back, a braided crown pinned to the top of her head.

Evangeline casually observed the space around her, noting the drooping branches and rose bushes that looked so out of place. The flowers were mostly dead, some of the buds dried up before they could even blossom. It was simply too dark, too melancholy, for her. It was supposed to be a happy day for her, and yet, it seemed someone above had decided to taunt her and ruin her excitement.

The forest had quickly gone from a place of peace to a place of sadness, and she refused to remain there. Collecting the skirt of her dress in her hands, she made her way out towards the village where she could hear the bit of commotion from the common folk. She didn’t know a single person in the village; she wouldn’t be there long enough to make any connections outside of the one, so it hardly mattered to her anyway.

People watching was what brought her joy in the moments she was forced to wait. She loved seeing the children chase stray dogs in circles, the young women dressed in their finest - at least finest to the extent it could be when money was minimal - and the sweet elderly women selling homemade jewelry. She even enjoyed seeing the men huddled in groups with overflowing mugs of mead in their hands, cheering and laughing about the happier days of their lives.

But there were also parts of this life that filled her with a profound sense of emptiness. She found that in watching families gathering in their homes, seeing husbands and wives looking at each other with adoring expressions and a clear sense of love on their faces. The same look that extended to their children. They were complete, they had each other forever. Evangeline was not so lucky.

As she walked amongst the villagers, blending in as best as she could, she heard the sound of hooves coming towards her. It wasn’t an unusual thing to hear, but it felt different this time, and Evangeline smiled knowing what was to come. As the men on horseback approached, she stepped closer, striving to get a better look at each of them. She took notice of the crests on their shields and armor; they were the King’s knights.

One man at the front of the group sat atop a horse whose hair was black as night, his chestnut brown hair flowed just below his shoulders in somewhat of a tangled mess, but it worked on him. He looked strong, a determined and proud look on his face that told Evangeline he was the leader of this group. It wasn’t until she looked at the man behind him that she found herself entranced.

He, of course, was perched on his own horse, one with snow white hair and gold armor protecting parts of its extremities. The knight sat up straight and looked around, his curly hair bouncing as he moved his head. He bore a striking resemblance to the first knight, but Evangeline found him to be so distinctly different. This was her beloved, her Joshua. If she didn’t know better, she would say there was an aura of white light behind Joshua, making him look like a gift from God himself. Perhaps, in a way, he was.

She took more time to get a look at her love in this era. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him in armor, but this version was much better. This Joshua hadn’t been covered in his own blood and on the verge of death. No, in that moment he looked like the strongest warrior she’d ever laid eyes on, and he was beautiful. The shield strapped to his side was polished, but marked by scratches and minor dents; proof of its use over the years. In the center was the King’s crest- three golden crowns stacked on top of each other, one for the King, the Queen, and their son, who had perished at birth.

The sword sheathed on Joshua’s belt bore the same crest on the handle, though significantly smaller. Each of the knights possessed the same weapon, but it fit so perfectly on Joshua’s belt. It appeared to be an extension of him, not fully complete without the weapon. His armor, silver with gold accents, looked marvelously wonderful on him, sculpting every muscle with the metal. It was comforting to see him in this way, so incredibly magnificent.

Many of the knights had been speaking to the people in the village, informing them of changes in taxation from the kingdom, or promising to get messages back to the King. Joshua, though, had dismounted his horse to walk amongst the people. He shook their hands and gave them the brightest smile he could. It was that smile, one that shone brighter than any star she had ever seen, that first had her falling for him. It hadn’t changed once.

As Joshua continued walking around, Evangeline felt it was time to make her presence known to the knight. She moved towards him at a moderate pace, ready to make their second meeting look like a coincidence. The two met yesterday, talking while she sold her bread, and she had been awaiting his return ever since.

It was as though he could sense her, perhaps in the same way she could always sense him. Josh’s head whipped around, almost appearing to be against his will, to face her, the smile on his face never faltering. His wide brown eyes sparkled as he stared at her. She sent him a smile to match and a small wave.

Evangeline had stopped by a small cart where a kind looking woman had been selling flowers. Joshua was already walking directly towards her and she felt no need to meet him halfway; he always found his way to her. She looked down bashfully once he was no more than a foot away from where she stood, her hair falling just slightly into her face.

“Good morrow, fair lady. How fare ye?” His voice was just as smooth as it was in her dreams, the words falling off his tongue and gracing her ears, bringing a chill to her body. The sound was pure silk, and she’d never tire of it. The smile that graced his plump lips never failed to take her breath away.

“Wonderful, now that you are here, sir.” Her smile matched his, it was an involuntary reaction she found he had on her. It was an inescapable fate that the two wouldn’t be enamored by the other. The dreary weather ceased to exist when her sun was before her. He was the light in the darkness.

The knight reached forward to gently grasp her hand, the two of them looking down at where they were connected before glancing back up at each other.

“I must say, Evangeline, I had not planned to see you again so soon.” His thumb softly brushed over her knuckles, a path of goosebumps following the movement. “Though I cannot say I am disappointed to bump into you, quite the opposite actually.”

For a moment, there was a brief silence between the two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. They simply enjoyed the time together. It was Evangeline who spoke first.

“I was thinking about taking a stroll, would you like to join me, Joshua?” She grinned at him, looking up through her long lashes to find that he was already looking directly at her.

He nodded immediately, extending his arm for her to wrap her hand around. “I’d love nothing more.

Walking through the village, Evangeline and Joshua made their way to a small pond, one that she had found solace in as she waited for her love in the previous days. They once more walked in silence, not needing to say anything to fill the space. The two observed their surroundings, looking at the weeping willows and the various plants that lined the path they traveled on.

There was a small bench just on the edge of the pond, one that Evangeline had conjured a few days prior. She and Joshua took a seat, his hand quickly taking hold of hers, not wanting to let go. He couldn’t help but take advantage of the proximity to her; her skin was unbelievably soft and warm, just like her personality. He could feel himself falling for her rapidly, and he knew nothing could stop it.

Joshua closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and releasing the air slowly. As he did so, Evangeline watched him, enjoying the sight of him looking so relaxed. She valued his peace more than she could put into words, especially because she knew how little of it was left.

“Joshua.” Evangeline spoke his name as a question, grabbing his attention.

His eyes opened and he looked over to her. “Yes, darling?”

“What do you believe brings you the most happiness in life?” She wasn’t entirely certain where the question came from, but it tumbled off her lips without a second thought. She almost took it back until she watched as his face contorted in thought.

“I would say doing things that bring those around me happiness and peace. That has always been what makes me feel best.” She didn’t comment, waiting to see if he would elaborate, and he did. “Not enough people understand the simple pleasures of life, the way the smallest things can lift them up.

“My father taught me at a young age to play the mandolin and I’ve always loved to sing. I remember when I was younger performing for my family members during gatherings. Seeing them smile and sing along and be so outwardly happy… that always made me happy.”

Evangeline found herself smiling along with him, enjoying the fact that he was being so open with her. As she prepared herself to respond, he spoke once more.

“There’s something about nature too.” She looked at him inquisitively, not knowing what he meant. He moved his thumb over her forehead, smoothing out the crease that had appeared out of confusion. She blushed at the action and when his hand shifted down to cup her cheek, she found herself leaning into his touch.

“There’s such beauty in the earth around us, in the trees, and bushes, and plants of all kinds. In the sky amongst the sun and the stars. In the warmth of summer rain, or the chill of the winter snow.” He paused, looking to his left and finding a rose bush, a frown taking place on his perfect face at the sight of most of the buds being dried up and dead.

Evangeline couldn’t stand to see that frown, and in a split second decision, she used her divinity to bring life back to the roses, the buds shifting from a tragic brown to a bright, milky white. Just as quickly as it had appeared, Joshua’s frown had dissipated.

He hadn’t asked how Evangeline was able to do such a thing, it hardly mattered to him. He plucked a rose from the bush, carefully picking off any thorns from the stem. Joshua held the flower in his hand, twirling the stem between his long fingers and taking in its appearance.

“Take this rose, for example. Most people find red roses to be the most appealing, but I disagree. There’s simplicity in white roses, a sort of purity and innocence. It reminds me of a time where I could enjoy being carefree as a child, before I knew anything about what the real world held in store for me and others. And that makes me happy.”

He broke the stem off of the bud, leaving just enough to give the rose a foundation to stand on. The knight moved closer, his knee pressed against Evangeline’s, and the angel looked down at her lap in an attempt to hide her blush. Joshua’s free hand lifted her head by her chin, his eyes instantly finding hers, and he gently brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She felt her breath hitch at the slight touch and his lip quirked up at the sound. He took the rose and delicately placed it behind her ear, smiling at the sight.

Their eyes never left each other, both of them far too entranced by the other to pay attention to anything or anyone else. Evangeline watched as the sun shone in her beloved’s eyes, the warm, chestnut brown hue seeming to glow in the light. He was the personification of light and joy and she felt as though she would be content just sitting quietly for the rest of their days, or well, his days.

Her smile faltered ever so slightly and although she tried to hide it, Joshua picked up on the shift in her mood, though he was uncertain as to what had caused it.

“My angel, my sweet Evangeline.” He cupped her face in his hands once more, unable to stop himself from touching her. “You make me happy. In this life and any others, you are my happiness.” Evangeline smiled at his words, finding it funny that he had no idea how true his statement was.

She shifted closer to him, not being fond of the space that remained between them. “Joshua?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Kiss me.” It wasn’t a question, and he knew that. She simply couldn’t help herself. She had missed him beyond what mere words could explain and she needed that touch, needed to feel connected to him.

He wasted no time, pulling her into him and bringing their lips together, both of them sighing in relief at the feeling. She was in love with how soft his lips were, how gentle his kiss was while still being so full of passion and desire. He, too, found himself getting lost in the feeling of her lips. To him she felt like, well, heaven. He didn’t push for anything more, nor did she, rather they both basked in this feeling of being complete, being whole, being together again.

Joshua’s tongue swept over Evangeline’s bottom lip just a touch, deepening the kiss the slightest bit without going too far. One of her hands had wrapped around him, her fingers playing with the tiny curls at the nape of his neck. He hummed contentedly at her touch, smiling into the kiss.

______________________________________________________________

The couple had walked around the park for hours, talking about dreams and memories of his childhood. It felt like they only had spent an hour, maybe two, together but when Josh’s youngest brother called asking where he was, the two realized that it was past time for their dinner plans.

“I may have messed up.” Josh chuckled after hanging up his phone. He awkwardly rubbed his neck, insecure over how Evangeline would take the canceled plans. “We missed our reservations.”

“Oh! I don’t mind. Truth be told, fancy restaurants aren’t really my scene.”

“Really? Awesome!” His wide excited smile and cherry toned cheeks were back. “I actually know this diner, it's kind of a hole in the wall, but their food is just amazing. The cook, Deano, is a magician. Crafted from angels!”

Evangeline brushed off his blasphemous comment, becoming desensitized long ago. She took Josh’s hand in hers, keeping the white rose safely in her other. “Take me there, Josh.”

“Evangeline, stick with me and I’ll take you everywhere.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

She knew this not to be true. He only had a few days left, unless she could figure out why he was the one chosen to be cursed. There was nothing more that Evangeline wanted than to spend years upon years with Josh, and though she supposed she already had, she wanted them to happen without quarter of a century heartbreak.

The couple was in a comfortable silence on their short walk to the diner. The sunny day was quickly turning into a burnt orange night. The dinner was being lit by neon signs and harsh overhead light, yet Josh still looked soft and peaceful.

The read vinyl covering of the booth seats were cracked and peeling, a definite sign that the food was going to be delicious. The table was black with faded glitter scattered over the top, a menu with only two pages haphazardly thrown in front of them.

“Okay, this may be weird but can I order for you?” Josh looked too excited for Evangeline to say no. And albeit him not knowing it, she trusted him more than anyone.

“Yes, Joshy.” His cheeks got even pinkier with the use of the nickname.

Evangeline wasn’t expecting the large order that was placed in front of her, the whole table covered in food not leaving any room for her elbows. Josh was bouncing in his seat, carefully deciding what he was going to dig into first.

“You’re cute.” It slipped from her lips before she could even process it. He looked up at her, not blushing, but with a confident smile.

“I know, but you’re cuter.”

The flirting continued throughout the night, the food quickly disappearing. Fries were thrown at one another, and of course two straws were put in the chocolate malt that Josh couldn’t stop raving about.

“I could explode.” Josh laughed off, but the only thing that Eve could think was ‘not again.’

“Well then let's roll you out of here.”

“Not yet. One last thing.” Josh put money down on the table, a lot more than the bill justified, and grabbed Eve’s hand. Holding his hand all day still was enough for her, she needed him closer.

Her wish was granted when the two ended up near a dusty jukebox in the corner tucked behind the scrapped bar. Josh must have known the number of the song he wanted to play, because it only took him about thirty seconds to return back to his Evangeline.

He wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her tight to his body. She breathed in, taking in the same scent she has for memories. The times could change, but she could count on Joshua always being a constant. Swaying back and forth, flooded her mind with painful memories, yet she worked to push them away so she could focus on the present.

She needed to be here with him. This may be the last time. In that moment with Josh, she promised herself that she would no longer spend time trying to find the answers as to why this kept happening. Eve could no longer miss out on hours of time with Josh trying to research, she would just be with him. Take in all she could, and make every moment she could count.

“Josh?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Kiss me.”

He stopped for a moment, surprised by how forward she was. Staring in her eyes, he smiled. Josh leaned forward, pressing his lips to Evageline. The first kiss in twenty-five years, and she could feel her body come alive again. As if electricity flowed through her body, she lit up. Her love was back.

However, the excitement was taken by dread as Evangeline felt another feather fall from her back. Both her and Josh’s time was fading quicker than it had begun.

Taglist: @theweightofstardust @weightofdreams-gvf @cowboysamkiszka @ageofeddie @capturethechaos @screechesincoherently @greta-van-yeet @peaceisouranthem @age-of-nyahh @danny-wagners-peacesign-necklace @xserenax-13 @the-weightof-dreams @celestialfauna @earthlysorrows @kxnsy @doodle417 @joshkiszkas @heatmyfleet @kay-jordan @lupinevanfleet @tripthelight-fanfic @caprisunsister @mywaygvf @jimisvoodoochild @allieboop @st4rdust-ch0rds @basiccortez @gretavanfleas @jmkiszka @starchords @luverleaver @trafficwasabitch @thecoldwind @idk-maddie @weightofdreams-gvf @auntminestrone @turtleskane @kdarling1 @stardustingold @gretavanbitches @writingcold @shutupdevvie @gardenofgreta @gretasmokerising @wingedgardener2000

#gretavanfleet fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka

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loominggaia · 8 months ago

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¿Cómo eran los líderes mundiales en su juventud/niñez?

(Translated via Google Translate)

"What were world leaders like in their youth/childhood?"

Gultopp Folkvar: Even as a young child he had a serious, no-nonsense attitude. He was always highly determined to achieve his goals. When playing with other children, he made sure everyone played fair, and he would fight the kids who didn't. I think he enjoyed capture-the-flag type games that involved a lot of teamwork and strategy.

Marghan Matuzu: A wild little brat who learned he could get away with anything, because he was never told "no". Now as a teenager, he still fears no consequences for his actions. Daddy's money makes all his problems go away!

Chua Lamai: Chua's position as leader was decided before they even hatched, so they didn't get to have a normal childhood. They were raised in a temple by Serpentist priests. They played with other kids in their community sometimes (mostly the children of priests), but most of their time was spent with adults. So, I think Chua was unusually mature for their age and always fanatical about their faith.

Roz Yerim-Mor: Yerim-Mor Kingdom started deteriorating when Roz was young, and this greatly shaped who he was as a person. As a child, he already experienced much tragedy and strife as he watched the Divine of Hate tear his kingdom apart. He learned to be meek and subservient to his oppressors, and as a consequence he became a nervous child. Unlike the other Great Rulers, he was humbled at a young age and remains humble as an adult.

Qara Zareen: Qara was adopted by a wealthy couple when she was a baby. Her parents adopted many children to improve their image (they were celebrities), but didn't really care for them. So even though Qara grew up rich, she was starved for love and attention. As a child, she was always acting out and behaving outrageously to get the attention she craved. She liked to wear crazy outfits and always talked very loud.

Indiga Evangeline: Indiga was raised in a high-class, traditional Evangelite household. She was under a lot of pressure to behave in a very specific way, and she had little say in anything that happened to her. She was just shuffled around by the males in her life because she lived in a very patriarchal culture. She was a quiet and obedient child, but I think she had a secret rebellious facet to her as well. If the theories are true, if she really did kill her husband, then that could be a manifestation of her sneaky ways and her frustration with the patriarchy around her.

Oberon Mogdir: Oberon was a charmer from day one. He loved flattery and positive attention, always aiming to please...especially those who held positions of power above him. As a child he was definitely a suck-up or teacher's pet, because he knew that the adults in his life had the most power. If he stayed on their good side then he could earn some of that power himself. He kissed ass his whole life until he made it to the very top of his kingdom, and now finally, everyone's kissing HIS ass!

Hethor Etios: Hethor is infamous for her tough, brash attitude. She was no different in her youth, always throwing her weight around to get what she wanted. She compromised for nothing, it was her way or no way. She was never afraid to start throwing fists with anyone that pissed her off...and that's still true today.

Serafeen of Damijana: Like Chua, Serafeen's fate as leader was decided before her birth. But Serafeen's childhood was even more restricted than Chua's, to the point that she was never allowed to interact with the common people at all. She was elevated as some sort of demigod, told she was a special being made from stardust, so it was improper for her to interact with the dirty peasants. In her childhood, there was no time for playing because her schedule was crammed with education and extracurriculars all day, every day. She was raised to be an elite person with advanced intelligence and physical acuity. But the lack of love left her emotionally stunted, and some would say sociopathic. As a child she appeared to have no emotions, as she was punished for displaying them. She was taught to appear calm and flat at all times.

Titania of the Seelie: Her childhood was so long ago, she doesn't even remember her mortal life...I think the centuries of drug abuse, extreme depression, and apathy contributed to her memory loss.

Morgause of the Unseelie: Drau have a reputation for being a bit cold and creepy, but Morgause was took this to another level, even at a young age. She was fascinated by death, and she expressed this fascination by killing small animals and playing in the cemetery. She liked to find bodies and practice necromancy on them, but also just played with the bodies in general, learning how they decayed and studying their anatomy. Even for a drau child, she was considered weird. It's no wonder she grew up to be Titania's finest knight, as she excelled at necromancy and killed people with no hesitation or remorse.

Sovereign of Aquaria: Sovereign displayed aggressive tendencies towards his brother, Mr. Ocean, as far back as infancy. Mr. Ocean was born with some kind of health issue, and as a result he got more attention from their parents. Sovereign couldn't stand this! He always worked hard to get his parents' approval, going overboard to show how superior he was to his "defective" brother. Sovereign was a high achiever, a genius, a great athlete, an overall child prodigy. He wanted to be seen as a glorious hero when he grew up, but it seemed to no matter what he did, it was never enough. He performed righteous deeds for his community and excelled at just about everything he did as a child. But his resentment only grew, because Mr. Ocean was failing at everything in life, yet still getting all this extra attention despite being a total loser. This really pissed Sovereign off, so when their parents died, he held nothing back and made his brother's life a living hell. It seems he never let go of his childhood inferiority complex, even in adulthood.

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

#ask #askliterature

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cordelianewman · 2 years ago

Text

Her eyebrows knitted together into a glare, his sarcastic humor didn't amuse the blonde, not in the slightest. "No but now I know my brother isn't fucking willing to tell me when shit happens but God damn had that been me and you weren't told, you'd burn the damn town down to the ground!" Which was true, and she didn't want it standing behind some hypocrisy that she was a woman, because women got into physical fights too. Not that she was looking to go out and have one, but had he not been bruised, the urge to punch him would have been really, really strong. Stronger than it already currently was. "And mocking me, will get you nowhere with me, so I'd watch your tone." Biting out the words, she was raised a Browning, which meant her blood could run ice cold when she was pissed off.

"No, no. No!" This time there was a raise in her voice, "You don't get to do that, you don't get to tell me that I am making this into a bigger issue than it is. You don't get to decide how I feel on a matter that I know damn well you wouldn't have told me about if you could have gotten away with it." There was a mix of pin prickling tears in her eyes, and she wasn't sure anymore if it was because of Cage, Tommy, both, everything? "Oh, when she sees this, is that your way of saying that this," Her hands gesturing to his overall body mass, "Is going to be a regular thing and that I should just expect her to be around that, because I won't."

Glaring up at him, "You're such a fucking idiot sometimes, it has nothing to do with giving a damn about what the town will think, it's allowing them to believe all the bullshit stories were right about you. That after all of it, the bullshit lies our parents spread were true, and you going off into whatever the hell you did, only feeds into that. You don't have to give a damn about what the town things, or anyone things, but why give yourself the bullshit you're going to get for this shit. You're how old? Grow up!" This time it came out as a little of a shout.

When the tears came she knew they were angry, the way her body almost vibrated and shook, not with heavy sobs, but because adrenaline was coursing so quickly through her veins, "Tell me to shut up again." Fire behind her eyes as she glanced up, he should know those eyes, he was walking on thin ice, and like it or not, Cordelia could be as cruel as any when she felt her world was being ripped apart, and would do anything to protect herself and her daughter. "First Cage and I end up in a massive fight and I don't even know if we're going to be able to work as a couple -- if we're too fucking fundamentally different so I lose him, and then you make one mistake or fall down that hole you fell in before and something happens to you, yes. It can happen, shit like that happens to people all the damn time. So don't act so fucking cavalier about it, because how I feel about the situation -- whether you like it or not, whether you agree or not, matters too. You say you're fine, I say you're absolutely crazy to think anything about the way you look right now is fine."

"What am I suppose to do? Send a little text 'bruised and abused but today is hashtag good vibes?'" he puts on a mocking tone, clearly not going to do such a thing. "When I need someone I will surely let you know but I am fine. Nothing is broken. You're making this into something it isn't." If she hadn't seen him she wouldn't have known, and if she had it would be days after the event with part of his injuries healed.

Tommy scowls at being directed from talking to his niece. "I was trying to act normal around her, you know, to not worry when she sees this," he waves his hand at his face. He'd done farely well over the last two years to keep his mess out of Rosalyn's awareness, or at least thought he had. She doesn't need to know what her uncle is like away from playing tea party and giving her plenty of hugs.

Both of the adults were all too aware of the toddler and dog combination going out outside of their reach. Even as they bicker their gazes were turning to check, to monitor, and they were each playing parent in that moment. He watches Rue snick at the tiny fingers out stretched to her, unsure about the fun-sized human before her. With hesitantion in her eyes she touches her wet nose to Rosalyn's out stretched hand, followed it with a lick, then bounced back a few steps just in case.

"God, why do you think I care what the whole town does or doesn't know?" he hisses, hating that it was something he or anyone had to think about. The reputation that follows them around felt like a prison sentence. Before he can say anything more she's off on her lecture, telling him off and assuming nothing had changed with him. It stirred acid in his stomach, rage in his spine. Tommy had worked hard to be where he was right now. It might not be some perfect soberity where he got along with everyone and solved all the problems in the world, but it certainly wasn't losing weeks at a time on a bender where his friends felt more like life support getting him home in one piece. He should have been sent somewhere for help, instead his parents just tried to hide the problems rather than solve him. It took him years to find reason to get his own help, to pull himself out of the pit he'd been so ready to be burried in. To find himself not in what people thought of him but what he thought of himself. He was still going to have bad days though, he didn't have everything worked out, sometimes he felt like nothing was going right, but he wasn't losing himself to that feeling. Not when Cordelia gave him a reason to keep trying. He'd shown up every time she needed him, more than that, and yet he felt like she would never see that person without who he was before.

Before he knows it Cordelia is crying in front of him. He doesn't get a moment to yell back, to defend himself further, before he's once again lost any chance of controlling his day. "Will you shut up, what is going on with you?" he asks, bewildered, as he reaches for her. She's tiny next to him, easy to wrap his arms around her and hold on until she gives into him. He wants to ask if it's a hormonal thing but he remembers items being thrown the last time he asked a woman that. Something must have happened for her to be this sensitive, and as much as he wants to yell at her right now for being a pest he wasn't sure he could do that. Her crying face was too heart breaking to be harsh to. "Stop being an idiot, I'm not going anywhere, okay? Stop thinking of the worst case scenario. If you start on this you'll be telling me I can't drive next because accidents happen. You're going to pop a vein or something. Have some faith in crying out loud. I'm here, I'm fine, relax." @cordeliaeli

#✧ * º • — i will be long gone by the end of this tale ⎧paragraphs.⎫#✧ * º • — filling up the empty space ⎧thomas.⎫

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wolferine · 2 years ago

Text

Laws of Attraction - Part 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Sequel to my “Family Feud” series, featuring Wolverine-powered!Reader and Natasha.

There’s no such thing as a day of peace when you’re an Avenger...

Warnings: Violence, language

Word count: 7163

Part 2

AN: If anyone is still reading this, thank you for your patience and support. This is it.

“I’m a monster,” you say.

“Maybe that’s what the world wanted you to be. But that’s not who you really are.” Wanda’s staring at your mouth and for the first time, you realize your student is in love with you.

In your defense, you only had eyes for Natasha, and your teacher-student relationship with Wanda meant you never saw her as anyone more than your pupil.

But now she leans forward with daring confidence and before you can react, even with your superhuman reflexes, she presses her lips against yours. It takes you far longer than you wish to process what happened, before you push Wanda back and jump off the bench to get away from her.

“Wanda…” you start, at a loss for words.

Her eyes are wide, like she can’t believe what just happened either.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Natasha’s here. And she saw everything.

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

“Nat! I…uh…” You don’t know what to say, and anything that comes to mind wouldn’t be good enough anyway. Not that you enjoyed or initiated the kiss with Wanda, you also didn’t try to stop her out of pure shock. Your heart slams against your chest at the thought that you not only betrayed your girlfriend, but she also was there to witness it.

You would rather be anywhere else. Even fighting your brother Victor with both hands tied behind your back suddenly doesn’t look so scary as Natasha stomps towards you.

“Agent Romanoff!” Wanda’s face is the same shade as her hair as she stands up. Natasha continues advancing as Wanda staggers and trips to create some distance between herself and Natasha.

Even though she hasn’t laid a hand on Wanda, you have never seen Natasha so physically aggressive with a student before, and while it may be warranted, you already know you’ll be in enough trouble with human resources and want to prevent her from the same fate.

“Nat, stop it,” you demand, your arms circling her waist to pull her back, but your strength is basically on the same level as hers now, and her pure rage overpowers you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Natasha screams in Wanda’s face.

Wanda squeaks and flinches back.

“Leave her alone, Nat!” You yank Natasha backwards, although the only effect it has is spinning her to the side. Natasha has her sights set on Wanda and cannot be distracted. She pushes you aside and your fingers catch in her shirt, holding her back like a rabid dog on a leash.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Wanda whimpers.

“Hasn’t your family fucked up my life enough?” Natasha snarls at her.

Even though she isn’t speaking to you directly, her words cut you like a knife.

“She doesn’t mean that,” you say, trying to make up for your girlfriend’s behavior. You look at Wanda’s, whose eyes are now brimming with tears. “Wanda, you have nothing to do with what your dad did–”

“Are you kidding me? Look at you!” Natasha turns on you as Wanda hovers in the background, wanting to run away but too afraid to.

“What? What are you talking about?” Your voice drops weakly.

“You’re a mess!” Natasha says. “You’re not fun to be around anymore. Your mood swings are all over the place and all you do is mope around and act like you’re useless.” You feel like your heart has stopped beating as she airs your insecurities not only for you to hear, but Wanda.

“You have no idea how hard it is to be with someone like you. I know you’re hurt, and I want to help, but you make it so difficult sometimes!”

“Natasha, I–” Your whole word is falling apart.

“I’m the one who’s been here for you this entire time, and yet you go to Wanda–”

“No, no, that’s not what happened at all!” you squeak.

“I should have never let her into your head.” Natasha is practically steaming with rage. “She brainwashed you–”

“It doesn’t work that way, Nat–”

“How can you be so sure?” Natasha fumes.

“Because…” You’re ready for her to jump down your throat, but when she doesn’t, your brain struggles to think of an explanation. “Because Wanda’s not like that.”

“Of course you’d say that. I’ve heard enough from you.” She stomps away as you stand there with your jaw hanging open. Did she just break up with you? You’re so stunned you can’t even breathe.

“Y/N?” Wanda asks softly.

You glance at your student. “Why did you do that?” you say, even though no answer will satisfy you.

Wanda sniffles, hiding her face behind her hands. Without saying anything, she runs past you back to the Tower.

***********************************************************************

Against every urge in your body telling you to go after Natasha, you decide the best thing to do is give her some space. You pace around New York City for hours, turning off your phone so no one can find you. You replay Wanda’s kiss (although not because you enjoyed it) and Natasha’s reaction to it over and over in your head.

As painful as it had been to hear how frustrated Natasha had truly been with you the past two months, you think she’s completely justified. You had been a lousy, selfish partner for not taking notice of her own struggles. There were no excuses for your behavior.

You had no idea what you were going to say to Natasha when you finally saw her. Unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid the Tower for the rest of your life, and once the sun falls, you suck up your pride and head back.

Steve passes you in the lobby, and despite your best efforts to avoid him, he takes notice of you.

“Where have you been?” he asks. “I texted you a few times and you never responded.”

“Phone died,” you lie. “Have you seen Nat?”

“She wasn’t with you?”

You shake your head.

“Everything okay?”

“No.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t ask for an elaboration.

“Have you seen Wanda?” you ask next.

“Well, it’s the weekend, so she could be anywhere,” he says. “But I think the recruits were getting together for dinner tonight.”

“Cute.” Although your main priority is Natasha, you know you’ll have to confront Wanda eventually. “Out of curiosity, who’s in charge of the HR department again?”

“That would be Faccino.”

“Good to know.” You walk past him to the elevators. Nervousness fills you to the point that your hands are actually trembling. But you put on a brave face as you march down the hall to yours and Natasha’s bedroom, knocking with your elbow because your hands are still bandaged.

“Um, Nat? It’s me.”

No response.

“I’m gonna come in.” You open the door slowly. Natasha lies on the bed, curled into a pitiful ball, surrounded by crumpled tissues. It feels like a stab to the gut to see your girlfriend (?) so miserable, especially knowing you were the cause of such misery.

Silently, you walk up to the bed and sit next to her.

“I’m sorry,” you say, not knowing how else to start. “Wanda’s my–our–student, and I shouldn’t have let her kiss me like that.” You pick at the bandages wrapped around your hands. “And I’m sorry for being so…difficult…these past few weeks. I didn’t even think about how it would affect you, and I’m sorry for being so selfish.”

Natasha sniffles, and you glance at her over your shoulder.

“I know I’m old as hell, but this is all kind of new for me,” you continue. “But I know you might not trust me anymore after what happened earlier, and I understand. Just give me like an hour to grab all my stuff and I’ll be out–”

“Why?” You feel Natasha tug on your arm to stay seated.

“Because I…cheated?” However, as soon as you say the word, you know it’s not quite right. You’ve never been into Wanda, you had no intention of ever kissing her, but you were also passive about letting it happen. That was enough.

“Did you know?” Natasha whispers.

“Know what?”

“That Wanda had a crush on you.”

“No, I didn’t.” Your ears flame red in embarrassment and shame.

“You know, for someone with super senses, you’re really dense,” Natasha teases.

“I didn’t care if Wanda liked me because I already had you,” you defend.

“Until she kissed you.”

“Yeah…” Your shoulders sag. “HR is gonna have a field day with me.”

“Me too,” Natasha admits. “Although it would’ve been much worse if I’d actually roughed her up the way I wanted her to.”

“You’re welcome,” you mumble. Then, in a softer voice, you ask, “Do you still love me?”

Natasha’s hand trails down your arm to rest on top of yours.

“I never stopped,” she answers.

You lift your legs onto the bed and crawl towards her, lying your entire body on top of her–something you’ve never really done before out of fear of crushing her when you were 200 pounds heavier than you are now. Your arms wrap around her chest and you press your front to her back, closing your eyes as her familiar strawberry-vanilla scent washes over you.

“I love you, and only you,” you whisper.

“I know.” Natasha turns in your arms, hiding her face against your chest and you feel her tears wet your shirt. “I’m sorry I said those things earlier. I was just so upset when I saw you and Wanda…”

“It’s okay. You only spoke the truth anyway,” you admit.

“Still. I should’ve at least told you in private, not in front of Wanda.” She squeezes you tighter.

“Don’t worry about Wanda,” you say. “If they want to put me on suspension for inappropriate relations with a student, then so be it. As long as I get to spend my time with you.” You kiss her forehead gently as she snuggles closer to you.

“We should really take that vacation now,” Natasha murmurs.

“Where should we go?”

“As far away from here as possible.”

***********************************************************************

Wanda storms into hers and Pietro’s shared bedroom, grabbing the empty duffel bag by the foot of her bed and unzipping it aggressively.

“What’s wrong?” Pietro asks, jumping off his bed where he had been reading a comic book. “Wanda, are you okay?”

Wanda looks away from him, fighting tears as she grabs handfuls of clothing from her dresser and tossing them into the duffel bag. “We have to go,” she says.

“Go? Wanda, what happened?” Pietro stops her from running towards the closet.

“I…I messed up,” she sobs. “I kissed Agent Y/N.”

“Oh, no,” Pietro says. “Was it…Was it the hair?”

“This is serious!” Wanda slaps her brother away. “Romanoff saw it, too.”

Pietro hangs his head, lost for words.

“So, we have to leave before she kills me,” Wanda continues.

“She wouldn’t kill you over something like that.”

“You weren’t there. She was so angry, Pietro.” Wanda takes a jacket off a hanger and drapes it over her arm. “She had every right to be, but…” Wanda shakes her head. “Are you staying or coming with me?”

“Where are you going?”

Wanda inhales. “Somewhere I’m actually wanted.”

“We’re wanted here, too,” Pietro insists. “We’re training to be Avengers, remember? That’s the most exciting thing we’ve ever done–”

“So they can turn us into their pawns and send us to fight their battles? Let us get blood on our hands and then lock us up when we were just following orders?” Wanda says. “They’re using us, Pietro. That’s all anyone’s ever done. You think the Avengers are any different?”

Pietro scratches his head. It was clear this had been bothering Wanda for quite some time.

“Remember what they did to our country?” Wanda says. “Then they brought us here, told us we were ‘free,’ and recruited us for their Avengers Initiative program? That’s not freedom, Pietro.”

“But we can leave at any time if we want to–”

“So, let’s leave now.”

Pietro sighs. “Where do you plan on going?”

She takes a moment to answer. “Where…Dad is.”

“Wanda, I…I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Pietro says.

“Why not? We know where he is.”

The day Erik had attacked, as he was fleeing and Pietro was the only would who could keep up, he had dropped a slip of paper. Pietro picked it up and discovered it had an address in Canada on it. He didn’t tell anyone but Wanda, and both of them had known what it meant.

“Yeah, but…We saw what he did to Y/N.”

“It wasn’t personal,” Wanda says, although inwardly she hates being so dismissive of what happened to you. She thought you were going to die, and even though it brought you two closer, it hadn’t worked out the way she wanted and she couldn’t hang around anymore.

“We’re outcasts here, Pietro. No one–except Y/N–has special abilities like us. They don’t understand what it’s like, and they never will.” Wanda thinks about the conversation she had with you on the bench before the disastrous kiss, then what Natasha had said about her using her powers to trick you into falling for her. But that was something she would never do–it hurt her that Natasha thought she was capable of such selfishness.

“Dad would understand,” Wanda says.

Pietro’s shoulders slump when he realizes Wanda cannot be persuaded otherwise. “Well, I can’t let you go alone.” He mourns the loss of his new friends. Unlike Wanda, he isn’t so pessimistic about the Avengers, but understands where she’s coming from. But as her older brother, he vowed to be by her side no matter what.

“When are we leaving?” he asks.

“As soon as you’re ready.”

“So, we walk out just like that?” Pietro only needs a few seconds to pack his belongings, anyway.

“We’ll be okay.”

“What if they try to stop us?”

“They won’t.” Wanda looks at him with sadness. She fiddles with the watch on her wrist for a few seconds before slipping it off and placing it on the bed. “Remember to take yours off,” she says. “Or they can track where we’re going.”

Pietro has his watch off before she can even blink.

***********************************************************************

You and Natasha emerge from the bedroom in time for dinner. She has her arm around your waist possessively, keeping herself glued to your side as you two walk to the kitchen.

Steve is already there, but he’s not alone. Sam, the recruit, is here too, and he quickly lowers his gaze to the floor when you and Natasha walk in.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, untangling yourself from Natasha.

“Why are you here, Wilson?” Natasha snaps, pouting at the loss of your contact. But she understands your desire to always appear professional in front of the recruits (although that had gone out the window with Wanda).

“Tell them what you told me,” Steve says, frowning upon Sam like an upset father.

“Uh…We can’t find the Maximoff recruits,” Sam reveals, still avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“Relax, Wilson,” you say, reading his anxiety. His shoulders roll forward, but he keeps his hands behind his back. “What do you mean, you can’t find the Maximoffs?”

“Well, all the recruits were supposed to meet for dinner, but neither of them showed up. I went to their room to check and they weren’t there. Their watches were on one of the beds, though,” Sam explains. You look guiltily at your own watch, the equivalent of a computer. It was a communication device, monitored your vitals, and most importantly, could track your location at any given second. SHIELD had full control over its assets and their whereabouts. The Maximoffs leaving theirs behind was a statement in itself.

“I noticed some of their stuff was gone, so I told Agent Barton, and when he checked the security cameras, he said they left the Tower a few hours ago with duffel bags,” Sam says.

“Here.” Steve passes you his phone, and Natasha pulls down on your shoulder so she can look.

In crystal-clear footage, Wanda and Pietro, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, carrying one duffel bag each, walk out the front doors of the Tower.

“Did you know they were going to leave?” you ask.

“No.” Sam shakes his head.

“And you have no idea where they are now?”

“No.”

“What about you two?” Steve asks, turning to you and Natasha. You hesitate, not wanting to talk about what happened with Wanda in front of another recruit. Natasha senses your discomfort.

“Thank you, Wilson. You’re dismissed,” she says suddenly.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Sam scurries out, having no desire to stay and listen to the gossip.

Steve raises an eyebrow when the door slams behind Sam. “What did you do, Romanoff?”

“Nothing,” Natasha growls, moving closer to you as if she’s afraid Steve will hurt her.

“Leave her alone,” you bark, your arm coming around her shoulder protectively. “She didn’t do anything.”

“You know where the Maximoffs are,” he says, but he doesn’t phrase it like a question.

“No, I don’t. We don’t,” you answer.

“But you were asking about her earlier.”

Natasha looks between you two in confusion.

“I saw Steve when I came back,” you say. “And I asked if he knew where Wanda was, because I hadn’t seen her since…” You grit your teeth. “...since what happened in the garden.”

“What happened in the garden?” Steve prompts.

“Wanda kissed me.”

“Oh.” However, he doesn’t seem overly surprised or horrified. “With a student, Y/N?”

“I didn’t initiate it,” you snap.

“We really need to get you a haircut.”

“Shut up, Rogers.”

Steve stifles a laugh behind his fist as you glare at him. “So, I’m also guessing that Natasha saw…?”

“Yes, I saw,” Natasha says.

Steve closes his eyes. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Natasha says, and Steve opens his eyes to squint at her. “Well, I mean–I didn’t lay a hand on her.”

“That was very generous of you.”

Natasha throws her hands up in exasperation. “Are you blaming me for Maximoff running off like that?”

“No,” Steve responds. “But I doubt it’s a coincidence.”

“What happened today was probably the tipping point for her,” you say. “I’m sure Wanda already had the idea of leaving in the back of her mind for a while. I mean, she never really struck me as an impulsive person–”

“She had a crush on you since she first met you and you never noticed until she kissed you,” Natasha interrupts.

You are silenced painfully quickly.

“But Pietro went with her. He…He didn’t kiss you too, did he, Y/N?” Steve deadpans.

“Enough about the kiss!” you snap.

“So, we basically just lost two million-dollar SHIELD investments,” Natasha sums up.

“They’re not just investments,” you say. “They’re not soldiers. They’re goddamned kids. Maybe if you’d all treated them like that, they wouldn’t have run off.” You always related to the Maximoffs more than the other recruits because you knew what it was like to be different. You had been hunted and enslaved by the government for decades because they wanted to turn you into the perfect weapon. If the Maximoffs felt that SHIELD was trying to do the same to them, you couldn’t fault them for leaving.

“If they couldn’t handle our training, they shouldn’t be here,” Natasha says, and although her words irk you, you don’t argue.

“So, what are we going to tell Fury?” you ask.

“Everything that we know,” Natasha says.

“And what do you think he’ll do?” you say.

“At least track them down.” Natasha shrugs.

“But you don’t think he’ll force them to come back, right?” You would draw the line there. As much as it hurt you to lose two very talented students, you knew better than to force them to stay against their will. While you didn’t support their decision to run, if they wanted nothing to do with SHIELD, that was their choice and you would respect it.

“No, I don’t think so,” Steve says, seeming to share your view of the situation. “He’ll just want to make sure that they’re safe at the very least, wherever they are.”

“Okay.” That’s all you can ask for now, anyway.

Steve presses a few buttons on his phone, and suddenly the room is filled with the dialing tone.

“I’ll let you two do the talking,” he says.

“Ass,” Natasha mumbles.

***********************************************************************

Wanda is relieved when she can withdraw money from an ATM without the card being denied. She and Pietro take a taxi to the airport, purchasing tickets on the soonest flight to Canada. She knows it’s next to impossible to evade SHIELD’s eyes if they were actually being searched for, but nothing had happened so far to indicate that, so they would need to move as quickly as they could.

When they board their plane, Wanda plants herself next to the window, looking out at the wing and bouncing her knee anxiously.

“It’ll be okay,” Pietro assures, sitting next to her and taking her hand.

“This is all my fault. I ruined the one nice thing we finally had for ourselves,” she whispers.

“No, you didn’t,” Pietro says. “I mean, did you really think we were going to be working for SHIELD the rest of our lives?”

“It didn’t sound too bad at first,” Wanda admits. “I mean, we had a place to stay, food, friends…it was like having a family again.”

Pietro’s hand tightens around hers. “We are a family, even with just the two of us.”

“And now we’re going to find our father,” Wanda says. “What if he doesn’t want us?”

“He knew we were at the Tower. He gave us his address because he knew that we would want to meet with him,” Pietro says. “He wants to see us, Wanda. He won’t turn us away when we find him.”

“Right.” But the nerves are already getting to Wanda and she doesn’t know if this is such a good idea anymore. “Do you think we’re acting irrationally?” she asks her brother. “Running away like this?”

“We’ve run from government organizations before,” Pietro reminds her.

“I know, but…” Wanda chews on her lip anxiously. She thinks about what Erik had done to you, the pure brutality of the act and dismissal of your life. While she doesn’t believe he would do the same to her or Pietro, she knows Erik is willing to cross boundaries that no one in SHIELD ever would.

“We can’t go back now,” Pietro says.

“What if it doesn’t work out with Erik…Dad?”

“Then we’ll go somewhere else.”

But even Wanda can tell that Pietro is sick of running–figuratively, at least. However, there is no returning to SHIELD, not after that stunt she pulled. All she wants to do is curl up and cry, but there is no time for that now.

She can only pray that Erik doesn’t make her regret her decision.

***********************************************************************

“...so…yeah, that’s where we’re at now,” you finish lamely, feeling like you’re sitting in the principal’s office for a crime you didn’t commit.

“And this all happened in the last…eight hours?” Fury asks, his voice deep and penetrating from the speaker on Steve’s phone.

“Yes,” Steve answers.

When Fury doesn’t respond, all three of you glance at each other fearfully.

“Well, the good news is that we know where the Maximoffs,” Fury finally says. “They’re on a plane. To Canada.”

“Canada?” As far as you were aware, neither of them had any Canadian heritage.

“How did you know where they are?” Natasha asks.

“Friday alerted me when she saw them leave the Tower without their watches,” Fury explains. “So, I authorized some tracking and we learned that Wanda stopped off at an ATM to withdraw a few thousand dollars, Pietro exchanged some of the cash for Canadian currency, and they were last spotted on security footage at the JFK airport boarding a plane for Vancouver.”

“Why are they going to Canada?” you ask.

“You tell me,” Fury says.

You have no answer for him and drop your head. Natasha squeezes your hand in encouragement, but you feel nothing but the urge to pull away from her in shame. Despite what anyone said, you take most of the responsibility for the Maximoffs leaving.

“It doesn’t really matter, though,” Fury continues. “Because we’re not going after them.”

“We’re not?” Your head snaps back up. “Why not?”

“Because they’re adults,” Natasha says.

“But they don’t know any better!”

“Well, they’ll have to now.” Your girlfriend shrugs dismissively.

“Agent Romanoff is correct. From the sounds of it, no one forced the Maximoffs to leave,” Fury says. “Sure, they may have felt especially motivated after what Miss Maximoff did to Agent Y/N, but she was not told to leave. She was not threatened to leave.”

You glare at Natasha, certain that the events might have played out differently if you hadn’t interfered.

“The Maximoffs were still in the early phase of their training. They don’t know any more SHIELD secrets than someone could learn off of Google,” Fury continues.

“But they’re our students,” you protest.

“Not anymore,” Steve says. “Fury’s right, Y/N. We gotta let them go.”

You balk, surprised to see yourself standing alone. “Really, Steve?”

“We’d make things worse if we went after them now,” he argues. “All we can do now is give them the space they’re seeking. If they want to come back, then we’ll talk about how to proceed. But if they want to stay away, then that’s their choice.”

You’re so frustrated you can’t even think straight. The Maximoffs deserve someone to fight for them, and you can’t believe how ready your colleagues are to just let them go.

Wanda was right. No one here, besides yourself, could ever hope to understand her and Pietro. They just didn’t have the same life experience. But while everyone else was quick to dismiss the Maximoffs as not being cut out for this line of work, you know it’s because they’d rather be somewhere or with people that were more accepting of them.

You’re heartbroken you couldn’t provide the security and support they needed. You enjoyed your mentorship role to the both of them, and were devastated that it would not continue. Hopefully, they could find someone who could teach them as you did (although you would argue that your near 200 years of experience was incomparable), and would be just as respectful and supportive as you hoped you were.

“Hey.” Natasha nudges you sharply, taking you out of your thoughts.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” you blurt out.

“It’s not your fault,” Fury responds. “This lifestyle isn’t for everyone. It’s better they realize that now than later.”

You bite your tongue, wanting to say that you didn’t think it was the Avengers’ lifestyle that turned away the Maximoffs. But it would be good for them, in your opinion, to find a place where they could be around superpowered individuals, more than just yourself, not ones that got their gifts from a bottle.

“They must’ve really hated us,” Steve says, “to move all the way over to Canada.”

“They don’t have any family over there, do they?” Natasha asks, and the room goes completely silent when everyone makes the same realization. Your eyes dart to Steve and Natasha anxiously, and even Fury is quiet on his end.

Your stomach does somersaults at the thought. While you don’t really think of it as a betrayal, you can’t believe Wanda and Pietro would run to meet someone they witnessed firsthand as an extremely violent and dangerous individual.

Even with your dry mouth, you manage to whisper before anyone else:

“Where’s Erik?”

***********************************************************************

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Wanda complains, wrapping her arms around herself tighter. They hadn’t prepared very well for the Canadian weather, and now their hike through the wet, claustrophobic forest did nothing to ease her nerves.

It had been almost an hour of walking now, and no cellphone reception since they set foot past the first row of trees. Wanda could only pray they were going remotely in the right direction–they never made it to Steve’s map-reading class.

“Yes, we’re going the right way,” Pietro says, glaring at the flimsy paper map fluttering in his hands. He pauses, then turns the map on its head. “Never mind.”

Wanda sighs. “You think Dad would’ve tried to lay out some better signals if he wanted us to find him so badly,” she says. She sits down on a rock to rest her legs, while Pietro stops next to her, still trying to find north on his map.

“Maybe I can just scout ahead?” he offers.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Never.” Pietro feels a twinge of guilt for even making the suggestion.

After a few minutes, the twins start moving again. Wanda feels drained, physically and mentally. She has played every scenario of what could happen if they did find Erik. There was little chance that he could hurt them; after all, his powers were limited to metal manipulation, an element both of them made sure not to bring with them. Pietro was the fastest being on Earth as far as they were aware, and Wanda had practiced shield magic enough to be comfortable defending herself and her brother.

“Wanda, look!” Pietro explodes suddenly. Wanda’s head snaps in his direction and her eyes follow the row of dark tents, almost resembling uniformly-shaped bushes, about a quarter-mile away. Her heart hammers against her chest and her hands feel clammy. She didn’t know if she was ready to confront Erik, but there was no way she was turning back now.

“Let’s go,” Wanda says, with as much determination as she can muster. She leads the way, Pietro on her heels, towards the perimeter of tents.

They are within 100 feet of the tents when a large man, bigger than Captain America even, with tattoos covering every inch of his bald head, emerges from the bushes with a rifle held loosely against his chest.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing here?” he growls.

“Uh…” Wanda is at a momentary loss for words, until the tattooed man tries lunging for Pietro. But no one has better reflexes than Pietro, and he easily dodges the man’s efforts without even blinking.

“We’re here to see Erik,” Wanda finally says.

“Erik?” the man scoffs. “He doesn’t do appointments like that.”

“We don’t have an appointment.” Wanda feels herself grow bolder. “We’re his children. Wanda and Pietro Maximoff.”

“C-Children?” The man’s demeanor changes instantly. “My apologies.” He bows until Wanda can see the black-and-white eyeball tattoo on the back of his head. “Follow me, please.”

“You couldn’t have said that earlier?” Pietro asks, sticking close to Wanda’s side.

The tattooed man leads them through a gap in the fences, and more people close in to observe the visitors. Most of them wear long, heavy jackets, not unusual given the weather, but Wanda knows they could be concealing weapons–not that she is concerned for herself or her brother. She hears their curious murmurs, but resists from reading their minds. Not that she has the concentration to do so, anyway.

As they walk further from the perimeter of the tents, Wanda takes notice of the large, metal dome in what seems to be the middle of the campsite. There are no doubts on who must reside there.

“Wait here,” the tattooed man instructs, before knocking on the doors. “What did you say your names were again?”

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff.”

“Right.” With some apprehension, the man pushes the door open and disappears. A few moments later, he emerges, Erik right behind him. Although he is dressed casually–a plaid button-up and jeans–he still wears the same bulky helmet he had when he came to the Tower the first time.

“My beautiful children!” Erik crows, striding towards them with open arms. He embraces Pietro in a hug first, then Wanda. It feels completely wrong, as Wanda awkwardly pats her father on the back before pulling away first. “I knew you’d both come. My children are not stupid.”

“What is all this?” Pietro asks.

“A gathering of like-minded individuals,” Erik says, keeping one hand on each of their shoulders. Before Wanda can ask what he means by that, he says, “Let’s talk inside.” He leads them into the metal dome, whose inside looks much comfier and inviting than the outside.

There are enough furnishings to decorate a house, although a little more cramped together. The one room splits into a bedroom, kitchen, and lounge area. The only door on the opposite must lead to a bathroom, Wanda guesses.

Erik directs them to sit in squashy armchairs around a wooden table. “Tea? Coffee?” he asks, waving his hand and pushing a jug of water onto a boilerplate.

“No, thank you,” Wanda and Pietro say in unison.

“Relax,” Erik barks. “You are both safe here. Your own people would not turn against you.”

“Own people?” Wanda repeats.

“Don’t be afraid to embrace who you truly are, Wanda,” Erik says, taking a seat across from them. He lifts a metal tumbler from the counter and floats it over to his open hands.

“What are we?” Pietro asks.

“Mutants.”

It was a derogatory term, almost on the level of a slur, that Wanda had only heard when she and Pietro had been locked up by HYDRA. It surprises her that it’s a term her father willingly uses to identify himself with.

“Do not look down upon yourselves for it,” Erik says. “‘Mutant’ is simply a term they gave us to make us feel inferior. But they are really the inferior ones that God did not deem worthy to be born with such powerful gifts.”

Wanda does not ask who “they” are, but can assume from the context who they are.

“I am so proud of the both of you,” he continues. “Working for the Avengers? Very ambitious. Very, very ambitious.”

“It wasn’t by choice,” Pietro corrects. “We only went with them because they freed us from HYDRA in Sokovia. Something you didn’t do.”

“I’ve been busy,” Erik says with a wave of his hand. “But I found you eventually.”

“You hurt our friend,” Wanda says.

“A casualty in the grand scheme of things,” Erik replies.

“You didn’t have to do that.” She doesn’t miss the way Erik doesn’t even ask if you survived.

Erik chuckles. “You must not have cared that much though, if you’re here now.”

Wanda flicks her fingers and the tumbler jets out of Erik’s hands, sloshing coffee over the rim. “You can control metal,” she says. “But I can control anything.”

Erik glares at her challengingly until she puts his tumbler back on the table. “I’m sorry for what I did, but I had to get your attention somehow. And it worked.”

Wanda wonders how much of this her father had planned. Obviously, he couldn’t have known about her crush on you, and the inevitable fallout once she tried making a move on you. It seemed like the entire universe was playing to his favor.

“The Avengers weren’t good for you, whatever you may think of them,” Erik says. “They were teaching you to be soft. They were trying to control you.”

“They didn’t stop us when we left,” Pietro points out.

“Could they have?” Erik asks. “Even if they came out–all of them–to stop you two, would you have let them get in between us?”

The Maximoffs are silent.

“No,” Wanda murmurs.

“Exactly. It’s not because they didn’t want you. It’s because they know you’re too powerful to be stopped. They said they were ‘training you,’ but they were really just keeping an extra close eye and putting on leash on you to make sure the people you hurt weren’t them,” Erik explains.

“Everyone here has agreed to join me in my fight for equal rights for mutants,” he says. “We are not a kind to be enslaved, or put down because of our differences. Our gifts.”

Wanda thinks that her father sounds exactly like the kinds of people the Avengers fought against. Pietro seems to share her thoughts and glances at her uncomfortably.

“The Avengers probably told you that people like myself are to be feared, didn’t they?” Can Erik read minds too? “But if they had powers like ours, they’d be singing a much different tune.”

“What do you want from us?” Pietro asks.

“Your support. You’re both my children, and I figured it was time for some family bonding. I can also show you how to use your gifts properly. Imagine how unstoppable you’d be then,” Erik offers.

Wanda had always been told her power was something to be restrained, or she could cause serious harm to everyone around her. She had never even thought about its potential if she were given the chance to release it any way she wanted.

“Of course, you’re free not to stay either,” Erik says. “The choice is completely yours.”

“We have nowhere to go now that we’re here,” Wanda points out.

Erik stands up and holds out his hands. Pietro and Wanda take one each with some hesitancy.

“Then welcome to the Brotherhood, my children.”

***********************************************************************

Three months later

Even after Erik had been traced to a provincial park in Canada, there was no way Natasha would let you go after him, even if all the Avengers agreed to go with. You no longer had your metal skeleton, making his powers all but useless against you now, but nothing would convince your girlfriend. She was terrified (and rightfully so) that Erik would find a way to permanently kill you, and forbid you from going anywhere near the northern border.

It was a rough few months in the Maximoffs’ absence. Again, you blamed yourself entirely, but when nothing in the news popped up about a woman who could make things move with swirling red magic or a man who could move faster than a person could blink, you rested a little easier.

Natasha, as usual, notices your low energy and suggests the two of you take some time off for a vacation. She picks Norway, since it was one of the few places even you hadn’t been to yet, and Fury sets up a little camper for you two away from any major populations. The nearest store is a 20-minute drive, but you didn’t mind. It was nice to have some alone time with your girlfriend, and with no work-related duties to distract you.

The two of you take a day trip to Oslo to visit the National Museum of Art. You’ve always enjoyed history, having lived through quite a bit of it yourself, and enjoy the calm setting as you peruse around with Natasha’s hand in yours.

You’re admiring Edvard Munch’s iconic The Scream when Natasha excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

“I’ll be out here,” you tell her, your attention drawn to another art piece behind a glass case. In the glass’s reflection, you see the people behind you suddenly stop moving mid-walk, and when you turn to look at them, it appears they’ve turned into mannequins.

Immediately, your senses are on high alert. You step away from the glass case, trying to remember which way the bathrooms were, when a noise catches your ear in the otherwise deafening silence. It sounds like rubber scraping across the floor and your claws shoot out of your hands. There’s still a sharp ache as they slice open your skin, but you heal fast enough to not bleed instantly anymore.

Whirling around, you lift your arm and find yourself staring down a bald man in a wheelchair. He has one arm raised, an invisible force holding your arm back from stabbing him in the face with your claws.

“Who…the hell…are you?” you growl, your arm trembling as you try fighting him.

“Relax, Y/N,” the man says, although every part of your body is screaming at you to do anything but that.

“How do you know my name?” you ask.

“I know everything about you,” he replies. “You’re a hundred-ninety years old and you have a brother named Victor. Your girlfriend is Natasha Romanoff, who is in the bathroom as we speak. You met her on your first assignment working for the Avengers.”

“Oh, so you know how to use Google. Very impressive,” you snarl.

There’s a twinkle in the man’s eyes. “And until a few months ago, you used to run around with an adamantium-laced skeleton.”

You drop your arm and sheathe your claws. That had not been made public knowledge, and even though you had just showed this man your metal-less claws, he knew when you had lost the adamantium.

“What do you want with me?” you ask. “What did you do to Nat?”

“She’s fine. Just like everyone else in this museum, time is stopped for her.”

“What do you mean, ‘time is stopped?’” you repeat.

“You are not the only ones with gifts, Y/N,” he answers. “But I’ll make this brief, because I know you’d rather spend your time with your girlfriend rather than me. My name is Charles Xavier, and it is my understanding that you had an unfortunate encounter with a former friend of mine that led to the loss of your adamantium.”

“Loss is a subjective term,” you point out.

“Yes, it is. Your girlfriend might not miss it, but you do.”

You swallow hard. How could Charles know this?

“I’m trying to find Erik Lensherr, and I think you’ll be able to help me with that,” he continues.

“And what makes you think I want anything to do with him after what he did to me?”

“Closure.”

Natasha had made you swear that you would never even go looking for Erik, and while you would do anything to make her happy, you hated that you had to live the rest of your life in fear of what he had done and the disgrace of not being able to get your revenge.

“I believe Erik is building an army, and he needs to be stopped before he gets out of control,” Charles says.

“How do you know that but you can’t find him?” you ask.

“Because he’s blocking me.” You hear Charles perfectly clear, but you don’t see his mouth move. His voice echoes like it’s literally inside of your head. “And he has something–someone–he didn’t have before. She’s by far the most powerful being I’ve ever encountered.”

It takes you a moment to connect the dots. “Wanda?” you guess. “Wanda Maximoff? His daughter? Look, she’s just a kid, Charles. I know her well, she used to be my student until…well, until…” You’re too embarrassed to finish the sentence, but Charles seems to know exactly why.

“Until she kissed you in front of Natasha?” His voice comes from inside your head again.

“Yeah. That,” you mumble, staring at the floor.

“It seems that Erik has been teaching her how to use her gift in ways that could absolutely annihilate the entire human race,” Charles says.

“Wanda wouldn’t do that,” you argue. “She would never–”

“Wanda is not your student anymore,” Charles reminds you. “She’s Erik’s now.”

That thought churns your stomach. If you hadn’t helped drive Wanda away, she wouldn’t have turned like this.

He rolls his wheelchair forward and offers you a business card. It reads “Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.” His name is underneath, with an address in New York.

“Enjoy your vacation, but please consider stopping by. We could really use your help.” Charles backs away from you and leaves the room. Everyone begins moving again, like a play button has been pressed, with no indication that they had missed anything.

You stand in place until you feel Natasha by your side.

“Everything okay?” she asks, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“Huh?” You tuck the business card safely into your back pocket and wrap your arm around your waist. “Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

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

Taglist: @toouncreativeforausername @fayhar @jujuu23 @bbwidowxc @screamsin-gay @how-to-disappearrr @when-wolves-howl @kermy48 @druggedduck @t00manyfand0ms @someobliviousgirl @theprinceofmarvel @lightssx @maria-403 @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @i-need-somebody-else @natasharomanoffswifeyyy @thewidowsghost @alexzz13 @zombies1ayea @lattayhottay16 @likefirenrain @

AN: The end! I know I left it a little more open-ended than I normally do, but I wanted to try something different and felt it was the only ending that made sense with this storyline.

This is likely my last fic with the Natasha Romanoff fandom. Thank you to everyone for the kindness and support. I never expected to be writing fanfics again, but this past year was a blast and I don’t regret any of it.

I’ll be lurking around, so feel free to reach out. Take care and be safe. 💙💛

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader #black widow fanfiction

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yoooori · 3 years ago

Text

3 Player Punishment

genre: smut

renjun x jaemin x haechan x fem!reader

kinks: degradation, male receiving!oral, threesome(? is that even a kink), creampie, gagging

relationship is established

1500 words (exactly), 8275 characters

a/n this took me 50 minutes and it's 1:30am rn lmao

you whimpered when you felt haechan tug on your hair. usually jaemin would chuckle when he saw you in a helpless position like this, but this time even he was looking sternly at you. "aren't you such a dirty slut?" haechan hissed, giving another tug.

you were on the master bedroom's bed. the room was dim as none of your three boyfriends had the light at a higher priority than seeing you fucked and punished. on your stomach, you strained your neck to see them.

renjun cupped your chin and tilted it up to have eye contact. "what do you have to say?"

"i'm very sorry," you whimpered. "please don't go too hard on me."

muted chuckles could be heard from all of them.

"did I hear that right? 'please don't go too hard on me'?" jaemin asked.

"you really should've thought of the consequences before you teased us the entire dinner, y/n. in front of our friends, what's more." haechan said. "now, go on all fours."

you complied immidiately, afraid of risking even more punishment. renjun had his pants off, his cock up and ready for your mouth. he cupped your chin and thrusted his cock into your mouth, your gag reflexes protesting against it. renjun didn't stop until all of him was inside of your mouth. he knew you liked it with the way your eyes looked at him with desire even with tears flooding it.

you could see a small, sly smirk form on jaemin's face as he sat at the corner of the bed, already using his hand to pump his cock. jaemin loved watching haechan or renjun fuck you. he'd wait until your eyes were messy with tears and then come over to fuck your overstimulated brains out.

"haechan," he called out to haechan, who was taking off his pants. "be sure to fuck her really good, alright?"

"don't worry about it." haechan growled.

with renjun rapidly thrusting himself into your mouth and your gag reflex working as hard as the devil, you could say nothing but squeal vainly.

haechan positioned himself, giving one big slap to your ass as he did. he slipped himself in, gave himself 2 seconds to convince himself that you won't be physically hurt, and went animalistic. thrusting into you quickly, grabbing your waist, eyes on your ass, haechan's breathing was quick and loud.

tears escaped your eyes. you felt otherworldly as you felt haechan pounding you from behind and renjun cursing from the front with his cock pumping inside of you. your head felt so light, and the first 2 minutes haven't even passed.

"fuck," renjun groaned. "dirty slut. how many times have you took this dick in your mouth like this? f..fuck."

haechan slapped your ass again, making even more tears leave your eyes. "y/n is nothing but a dirty whore, always wanting to get fucked- hmm?"

you could say nothing but let the tears fall.

"such a beautiful sight for me to enjoy," jaemin heaved loudly. "my little slut with two holes filled."

you looked at jaemin, and felt like you could orgasm just by the sight of him. his eyes met yours, his filled with lust and desire. his hand quickly pumped his cock. his chest heaved as his eyes took in the masterpiece of a sight in front of him.

your eyes were glued to jaemin- whether it was his cock or his eyes. yours were desperate. you so wanted this- renjun and haechan's cock in two of your holes. you felt so euphoric. you felt so full.

haechan could see this.

"you like this a lot, isn't it? that's why you were acting like a complete-" he hissed and grabbed your ass tightly. "-complete whore. couldn't even wait till we got home."

"such a naughty girl." renjun heaved, his eyes unable to look sane with your mouth working magic on his cock.

you cried on renjun's cock, feeling your need to orgasm grow bigger and bigger. you needed to cum soon.

"what is this?" haechan growled, now tugging your hair. "you want to cum?" he felt your walls tighten even more around him.

"don't let her." jaemin instructed.

haechan sadistically grinned. "of course i wouldn't. sluts don't get to pick and choose."

renjun hissed. "shut the fuck up and fuck the shit out of her."

you couldn't take it. the sight, the sound, the feeling of being so filled with haechan and renjun-

you cried loudly into renjun's cock. he groaned at the vibration, thrusting faster. "i'm gon- cum!" you cried, but no one could hear it.

haechan hissed and gave a spank to your ass when he felt your walls squeeze his cock. "cumming all over my cock? you're clenching so tight around me, y/n."

"fuck, i'm going to cum." renjun growled. using his two hands to grab your head, he thrusted deeply into your mouth. your mouth felt destroyed, but you loved it. your entire body felt so overstimulated with haechan's pounding still continuing, but you wanted renjun to destroy your mouth as much as he could. even more, you wanted his cum as deep down your throat as possible.

with hissing and groaning, you looked at renjun's eyes with a small sense of accomplishment as he pumped his load into you. he scoffed when his eyes met yours. still, he pulled out his cock and lied on his back, panting.

as for you, you were gasping and readjusting to not having your throat completely filled by renjun. haechan's thrusts didn't slow down. if anything, it went faster. haechan groaned loudly, his hands digging into your ass. he relished the sight of your body, loving everything about it.

you whimpered and whined, begging him to quickly fill you up. it was overstimulating.

"i'm going to cum soon," he looked at jaemin. jaemin nodded, a sly smile on his mouth. you gulped at the sight of the smile.

haechan gave one final spank to your red ass, thrusted in as deeply as he could, filled you up, and pulled out. he panted, a satisfied smile on his face. he moved to clean himself out, leaving space for jaemin.

jaemin moved onto your collapsed body. cum covered his crotch and hand, but he seemed to ignore it. not when you were in front of him, at least.

"think you can handle me?"

"not too fast, please" you said weakly.

he laughed, amused. "i'll try."

jaemin slipped inside of you easily. he waited for a couple of seconds, gauging your limit. then he started moving. he started at a slow pace, but as time went on he rapidly increased the pace. he was now going nearly as fast as haechan did, much to your gasps and pleasure.

jaemin never really felt physical pleasure from fucking alone; it was making you feel as pleasured as possible that turned him on.

"aww," he cooed, wiping away your tears. "i thought you wanted this badly, y/n? and when haechan and renjun are done with you and it's my turn, you cry so much?"

you wailed and buried your head into the bedding. "so much- so much, so much"

jaemin smiled, amused. "you did want to feel three cocks, baby."

you wailed with overstimulation, already feeling your insides clench at jaemin's cock. you felt stretched and out of your mind, but you knew that you needed jaemin's cum deep inside of you, just like haechan's.

"cumming so fast?" jaemin laughed at your pitiful figure as you arched your back and whimpered loudly. "shh, you want to wake all the neighbors up?"

"need your cum" was all you could say.

jaemin's eyes widened with amusement. he complied, figuring that haechan has fucked you enough. quickening his pace and looking at as much of your fucked face as he could, he came inside of you. a lot of it overfilled and spilled out of you, and he made a point to finger it back in when he pulled out.

renjun crawled towards you and picked you up. he went back to the middle of the bed and lied you down on his stomach. haechan took his left, jaemin his right. the room was quiet apart from your loud attempts to regain a steady breath and to wipe away all of your tears.

"we should do that again sometime." haechan commented.

jaemin laughed. "are you saying you want y/n to be a dirty little whore?"

renjun huffed. "you guys talk too much. let me and y/n sleep."

"alright, sorry~" both haechan and jaemin apologized playfully.

within 2 minutes, all of the 4 of you were dead asleep in a tangled mess of limbs.

#nct imagines #nct au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct dream #nct haechan #nct renjun #nct jaemin #nct jaemin smut #jaemin smut #nct renjun smut #renjun smut #nct haechan smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut

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tryingmybestpls · 4 years ago

Text

Me and My Husband

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The reader warns herself of her relationship with Steve Rogers.

Rating: R

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Infidelity, miscarriage, depression, suicidal thoughts

No one will tell you what to do when you find out your husband is cheating on you. No one tells you that whether you stay or you leave him, everything you do will be judged ruthlessly. So you just pretend. You will pretend like its not happening, like you haven't seen the text messages on his phone or heard the whispers when you visit the Compound upstate. You'll ignore them the best you can, pray that somehow you got this all wrong. But you can read minds, so you get it straight from him that he's cheating on you.

You'll keep your head held high, ignoring the issue as much as possible. You act like nothing is amiss, even though everyone that you work it-or have worked with-knows the truth. They all know your husband was having an affair and they wonder if you know. You can see their questions as they appear in their heads. You plaster a smile on your face, wishing to be in your bed so you just cry. You'll get bombarded with their thoughts and it'll make you feel like you're drowning.

You'll never bring it up to your husband, but he knows that you know. You've promised that you'd never read his mind, but he knows that you have. You know every gritty little detail of the affair and he knows. He is reminded of it every time he sees you lying in the bed you once shared, your back to him. He's reminded of what he did every time the two of you visit the Compound upstate, when everyone gives her looks of sympathy while he gets glares that bore into his skin. Every time your eyes meet his, he is reminded that he didn't care about the sanctity of marriage and because of that you'll never look at him the same way ever again.

You'll spend moments wondering what you did wrong. Did you not love him enough? Not give him enough attention? Instead of being mad at your husband, you're mad at yourself. Wanting to think about what you could have done instead of thinking that your husband just didn't love you. It'll be easier to blame yourself and you'll live with this bundle of hatred for yourself.

A betrayal by the people closest to you. Your husband and your best friend. Your husband and your maid of honor. The two people you loved most in the world sleeping together and losing your trust, losing you. You wanted it to be anyone but her, anyone else. You prayed and begged that somehow his thoughts betrayed him and he didn't sleep with her, but you know deep down that he did. Her face is all over his memories. She won't meet your eyes and you've stopped taking her calls. You will want to hurt her, kill her. Want to make her brains spool out from her head because you're so God damned hurt. She isn't friend anymore. Friends don't betray you. Friends don't sleep with your husband. Friends don't make a mockery of your marriage. Friends don't-

Cry.

You'll find yourself crying a lot. It's an endless stream of tears that leave your head pounding and your eyes aching. It's the type of crying that makes your throat and entire chest hurt, the types of crying that leaves you feeling hollow. You must be dehydrated with how much you're crying. Your husband will come home to see your eyes red and watery. He used to be so concerned when he saw you post-crying, but that was before your marriage imploded. He knows he is the reason why you're crying, so he doesn't bother asking anymore. And that only makes you cry even more.

A night of emotions being too high and apologies that he doesn't mean result will in a positive pregnancy test and you're stuck in marriage with three people. You, your husband, and the other woman. It's too cramped and you feel like you can't breathe. It's suffocating.

When you get pregnant, people will whisper it's a save the marriage baby. None of their smiles will meet their eyes and their pity will be written all over their faces. They congratulate you nonetheless, calling you a fool once your back is turned. Having a baby with a man that betrayed her with her best friend.

They'll ask you how he feels about it. Not how you feel because you're not allowed to have feelings anymore. You gave up your feelings when you chose to ignore his infidelity. They'll ask you how he reacted, if he is happy. You don't want to tell them that he just nodded when you told him, his face not giving away way what he felt about the news. You don't to tell them at he left immediately to go see her as soon as you got into the shower.

She will be in the room when you tell the remaining members of your team, both holograms and in person. Hidden in plain sight, she sits among the people you call your friends-at least the ones that remain. His eyes meet hers when the news falls from your lips and you can hear her whisper in her mind "What are we going to do?". As your friends and teammates walk up to congratulate the two of you, she takes her time getting up, takes her time to walk over to you. She looks you in the eye and says that the two of you are going to be great parents. Three of us in this marriage and I can't breathe.

You'll wonder every day as your stomach grows if the man who you married hates you. He's stuck in this house that he had built, with the family he had wanted, in loveless marriage because he messed up and you found out. It doesn't stop him from leaving at night, showering immediately when he comes back. They both know you aren't stupid. You know what they are doing, but your heart can't break anymore. You'll tell yourself that he'll stop when the baby comes, but you know that's a lie, but it's a lie you keep repeating to yourself in hopes of it coming true.

Sometimes, you will dive into his mind when he is asleep next to you. He'll never know that you've snuck inside, but you get to see every moment of their relationship. It's sadistic and all it does is make you more upset, but you can't help yourself. You need to know how far it goes, if they love each other or if it's just a physical thing. She fills up more of his memories than you do. You're being replaced and there isn't a thing you can do about it. You can only watch it happen.

And no one will tell you what to do when you start to bleed. It will seems to pour endlessly from you, staining the cream colored sheets. Your husband won't be beside you, he's off with her. So instead, through the pain, you drive yourself to the hospital, blood covering the seat. Tears streaming down your face as you force yourself to walk into the emergency room, hand on your stomach. You'll lean on the receptionist's desk and calmly tell her "I think I am losing my baby." as blood drips down your legs. No one tells you who to call. Should you interrupt your husband's time with his mistress? Make him hate you more? No. Instead, you call your friend, the one who has always been like a brother to you. The one who lives a few hours away with his wife and their newborn daughter. You'll wait for him, sitting alone in a hospital room as nurses run tests on you.

No one will tellyou how you are supposed to react when they come in and tell you that your baby-a boy, you learn-is gone. Your bump is still there, so how can he be gone? He. A sweet baby boy that you'll never get to meet. When Tony arrives, you can't get the words out. Saying it aloud will mean it's true. But he knows. He knows as soon as he walks through the door that the baby is gone. He doesn't bring it up and instead sits next to you, where your husband should be, and holds your hand. Your hand in his while you other hand cradles your bump. Your husband will return home the next morning to find your car gone with blood smeared everywhere. For the first time in months, he'll call your phone, wondering what was going on.

Tony will be the one who answers the phone when you're in surgery, the doctors wanting to make sure the contents of your womb are completely out. He'll be the one who tells your husband that you lost your baby. Tony will be the one to tell him to stop calling. Before your friend hangs up, Tony will tell your husband that he caused this, that his infidelity direct caused your miscarriage.

In that time, you'll finally lose it. It's like you're finally reacting to everything. You'll be drowning in anger, in sadness, in sorrow. How you managed this far you'll never understand. Tony will bar your husband and his mistress from coming anywhere close to your hospital room. Your life is falling apart at the seams and you're losing control of everything. You're unable to sleep, unable to eat. The last thing you've had was your baby and now that he's gone-Well you don't have anything left. You just want all of the pain to end and you'll tell Tony that. He'll will be worried and he'll ask for you to be put into a seventy-two hour hold. While this is happening, while your brain is being picked in order to see if you're going to harm yourself, Steve will be throwing away the bloody bed and getting rid of the ruined sheets and blankets.

Tony will decide that you can't go back to your home you share with Steve, but you also can't stay with him. He has a baby and you just lost yours. It's not right for you to stay there. So instead he takes you to Asgard's new home. You'll be thousands of miles away from the home you had wanted to raise a family in, away from your husband. Thor and Valkyrie will welcome you with open arms, helping you transition into your new lifestyle as you grieve. Tony will handle the divorce proceedings and Steve will get a new bed. Your things will be packed up and sent to you and you'll be completely removed from your husband.

And when Bruce and Rocket come knocking on your door three years later, begging for your help, you'll be forced to make a choice. And you'll sit there in your tiny cottage next to Thor's, thinking about what to do. And then you'll agree to help because you want to bring back half of the universe. You love saving people and it doesn't matter if you feel uncomfortable, you are going to help bring people back.

So when that beautiful man with the baby blue eyes comes up to you after a mission, a million dollar smile stretched across his nervous face and asks you to go on a date, heed this warning. He'll be amazing at first, but it'll go down hill so fast. Know that you were never his first choice, you were the only available one.

If you don't heed the first warning and you do go on a date with the blonde man, don't marry him. The marriage is a sham, something you'll do a year after half of the universe turns into dust. You'll be excited and it'll seem like he's really happy, but he isn't. He just wants purpose again and he won't get it from the marriage. He'll emotionally leave you and you'll try to stick it out.

Being with Steve Rogers will only end in pain, so save yourself the heartbreak and stay away.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader

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hotwings0203 · 3 years ago

Note

I love the angst from the fighter!Bakugo scenarios... but sometimes i need a little softness to even out the angst, so what if he catches on when y/n's spirit starts to break (i mean since he kills people in the ring, he's seen that spark of life go out in many people's eyes) and he gets scared, or finds his own ways of easing up on her?

Awww well this is a cute change of pace🥺🥺

When Bakugo approaches you hesistantly, fingers fiddling with each other and head bowed, you’re sure someone has died.

Apart from your own soul.

Bakugo doesn’t get nervous, he isn’t hesitant about anything. He’s a man of action, a man of act now and think later.

He’s never come forth so unsurely, one foot in front of the other and then stepping back as if retracing his steps. His gaze which is usually so intensely trained on your eyes and roaming over your body is now glued to the floor as if the lottery numbers were written on it.

“‘Suki…?” You can’t help but utter. Your broken spirit which was previously in a state of grey is now overcome with colors of curiosity and cursed concern. What’s he so cautious about?

“Y/N. You, uh…take a bath.” He grunts like a caveman and immediately cringes when you visibly recoil.

He stumbles over himself to correct the mishap and finally looks at you in panic, seizing the deafens of the comforters you sit on.

“Wait! Wait, that’s not what I meant.”

Your eyebrows scrunch and your lip curls in indignation. You didn’t think you smelled that bad, and even if you did it was because he never let you do anything anymore without begging.

Katsuki takes a deep breath. “Look, I-I just…I want to make you happy. You’re not you anymore.” He mumbled and studies his toes.

Yeah, you wonder why.

He takes your silence as encouragement to see this through and pull you out of your unresponsive state.

“I want you to-actually, can you please take a bath with me?”

Baths with him usually included a harsh fucking and an even more severe beating if you didn’t want to fuck. It’s natural that you mirror his uncertainty and curl into yourself even more.

But he’s not known to back down, in the ring and in his own house. Instead, he slowly raises both his palms to show no harm and walks on his knees towards you, a good two feet away to ensure your comfort.

He knows he fucked up. It’s unfortunate he’s just now realizing it when you respond to virtually nothing but it’s better late than never, in his warped opinion.

“If you start to feel uncomfortable in there, I’ll stop touching you. And if you still want to bail, I’ll let you out any time. I want you to, uh, be happy with me. That’s all.” He finishes lamely and winces at his lack of eloquence.

But amazingly, miraculously, you nod your head a little. You look so cute with your lashes lowered and your lip bitten in his acknowledgment of change, and he wants to eat you up right there.

He doesn’t though. His fingers twitch and his mouth waters, but he loves you too much to carry on like this anymore.

Bakugo doesn’t think he can stand looking at your face of fear and avoidance for one more day. He wants you, needs you back.

The mattress lifts up when his weight disappeared from it and transfers from foot to foot on the hard floor, his large hand outstretched to take yours.

You grant it to him, and he slowly encloses his fist around it, careful not to press too hard and irritate the old bruises.

He lets you take your time getting off of the bed, your sockets audibly popping and whirring as you move off the place you’ve been bedridden for almost weeks now. He takes your other hand gently and hobbles at a snails pace towards the bathroom.

You see the effort. Usually he takes in long strides and huffs impatiently when he can’t go at his own speed, but now he lets you set the pace.

One foot at a time. Left, right, left, right.

Eventually he sets you down on the bathtub edge and lets you observe the soft lavender color.

It smells like vanilla and the rest of your favorite scents, almost like he put a little too much of everything in hopes that you’d like it all.

But it’s nice. You won’t complain.

Little pink petals are dusted across the white froth and a sort of daze comes over you.

Your mind starts to soften like mush and your limbs begin melting in his grasp. Katsuki is having a premonition of his own, and almost in sync with yours he tightens his grip ever so slightly on your arms as your body begins to sway.

“You’re good. I got you.” He mutters and stroked the top of your head. You looked up at him blankly as he dips his fingers in the water and tests the temperature out for you.

Deeming it to be up to your standards, he reaches out towards the hem of your shirt and then stops suddenly.

“Can I, uh,” he clears his throat, “undress you?”

In response, your arms move slightly above your head, and he lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Your shirt rides up your body, and with a quick glance for confirmation at you your bra, panties and shorts come off as well.

Katsuki’s penis is erect but he wills it at a standstill, your love more important than his hormones.

But fuck, there’s moments when you’re slowly sliding in the tub with his guidance that your soft breasts brush against his hands, your ass glides across his dick when you sit with your back against his chest and he wants nothing more than to shove your head underwater and to fuck you like the cheap, teasing whore you are.

Which is what the past Katsuki might’ve said. But strangely enough, when all that goes through his head his dick deflates a little to his utter astonishment.

It looks like he really is just craving your attention and love more than your beautiful body, his physicality a testament to his real desires.

When you both sink into the warm water, a unison groan can be heard from the two of you, and it causes you to giggle.

The sound is so sweet and so much like you that he actually feels like his heart is swelling. It’s a feeling he hasn’t felt in seemingly years, like an old cut being reopened to release the sweet taste of ichor pouring from its bittersweet wound.

If he’s ever doubted his love for you, he’s sure as hell of it now.

You complete him.

You always will.

And when he’s pouring little handfuls of water over your torso that don’t clean as much as merely soothe your dozed off being, that love kept away in the confines of his fists and head unravel and spread across as a buzz to his heart and mouth in forms of cooes and quiet nonsense that means nothing to anyone else but you two.

And with his hands being the cause of a lovely flush for once instead of gruesome black and blues, with his mouth next to your ear telling you that he’s nothing without you instead of the usual sneers and insults , with his strong thighs locked around your side to protect rather than crush you, the resentment kept within your tears resurface and fall away, forgiving but not forgetting.

When your eyes get heavier and your breathing slows almost to a still, you can feel his chest start to shake behind you.

It lulls you further.

His sniffles and choked breaths lay a velvet blanket over your aching heart and his, tying the string that binds you both together tighter. Your hand distantly comes up and embeds itself in his scalp, fingers softly raking through his spiky hair.

He gasps for breath and buries his face into the crook of your drenched shoulder.

You can’t tell whose weaker-him or you.

You’ll suffice for the both of you for now though, granting him reprieve even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve you.

In his arms, you are not asleep right now.

But you can barely open your eyes.

#bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugo mha #bakugo bnha #mha fluff #bnha fluff #katsuki #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki x y/n #katsuki scenario #katsuki bakugo oneshot #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #mha #bnha

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years ago

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Once Again (PT.I) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN : PART ONE

Summary: Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, slight angst, f!reader x dad! Iwaizumi

A/N: There will be 2 or 3 parts of this oneshot! Depending on how long I feel like writing. Thanks for checking it out and stopping by! Let’s dive into some Iwa moments :,)

NEXT PART -->

---

“What’s your return policy on rings?”

The saleswoman smiles sympathetically behind the counter. That stupid sympathetic smile he’s been getting for weeks on end now. And it never stops; with his co-workers, with his family, his friends...

Iwaizumi’s sick of it. He’s sick of having to prove that he’s doing just fine, thank you very much. When in truth, his heart is constantly being torn apart and stomped upon as is people have nothing better to do than torture him in their free time.

“I’m sorry, but these rings have been brought more than three years ago, and our warrant only lasts for three years,” the saleswoman keeps on talking but it doesn’t matter, for Iwaizumi can already feel the anger slowly creep up through the back of his neck, can already feel the vibrating emotions clogging up his sense of judgement.

His fists clench at his sides upon impulse, the physical pain of his nails driving into his palms enough to remind him to stay cordial. It’s not the woman’s fault, the better part of him chants, it’s not her fault at all.

“Fine,” he manages to grovel out, barely, “thanks anyway.”

He all but storms out of the shop while shoving the rectangular box back in his pant pocket, and though it’s been more than four months since his ugly divorce with the woman he’d hoped to share the rest of his life with, the weight of their promise hangs heavy and hot upon his thigh.

The thing is, Iwaizumi is mad. He is seething. If one were to give him a bat, he’d probably destroy the entire town by himself. Not because she was the one that cheated, not because she was the one going behind his back numerous times a week to seek out her lover when he’d been basically driven mad between Hoisuke’s cries and the stress of call meetings scheduled back to back.

No, he’s angry. Because how the fuck could she do this to Hoisuke? How can she break the child’s heart like that, so ruthlessly, without even thinking twice about the consequences?

Because if there is a victim in all this, then it’s definitely Hoisuke. And not only that, Hoisuke understands that his mother has been acting strange, that she doesn’t return at regular times and that her hugs now smell of cigarette smoke with a bittertaste of alcohol.

Iwaizumi is so caught up in anger that he almost blunders past his battered Hyundai, red and chipping away at the corners. Still, this car holds so many memories, the good and the bad ones.

“Can’t you get a newer car? I thought your company could sponsor you,” the ghost of his wife’s voice echoes through his head, a blatant reminder of all the things she’d found wrong in his life.

“Why?” he’d tilted his head around to fix his gaze on her figure bending over the sink. The TV was playing in the background and he thanked the gods that the morning comics were taking up Hoisuke’s attention, enough to distract him from his parents’ quibbles.

“It’s just--so old and tacky.”

“It still works well, doesn’t it? Why change it now?”

She’d paused, hesitated slightly before blundering on, “It’s embarrassing. My colleagues keep asking if we're poor or something."

"Who cares what your colleagues think?"

Fuck her, Iwaizumi mentally swears as he turns on the ignition. Fuck her and all her needs for a better life. As if the life they had wasn't more than enough. Pulling out into the street to join the incoming traffic, he blinks away the sudden tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes and swears once more, this time aloud, glad that Hoisuke isn't in his presence when he gets in such a foul mood.

Iwaixumi may be angry. He may be filled with pent-up rage from the memory still attached to the day he'd discovered a used condom in their bathroom trash. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

That doesn't mean he does not still cry into his pillow over it every night.

----

"Please don't forget to do your homework for tomorrow! We'll correct them before moving on to the next chapter," you call out to your students as excited chatter fills the air. Students rise from their seats, some calling you bye and waving as they all file out of the classroom and you can't help the small smile lingering over your lips even though your feet are killing you.

Outside, parents have already lined up to collect their kids, the chatter and bustle of people ebbing away down the corridor as you let out a soft sigh.

"Miss?"

You jolt, not realizing that one of your students stands by the table wringing his hands, "what's wrong Hoisuke? Dad's not here yet?"

He shakes his head, watery eyes blinking up at you as he raises his thumb to his lips. You stand quickly and motion him to come close until he's within reach before your hand smoothes over the back of his head, "it's okay. He's probably stuck in traffic. I'll wait with you."

It's not surprising that parents get tardy once in a while and you're all too accustomed to those slight change in plans. Thankfully, you manage to distract the young boy with some coloured crayons and a piece of paper while you dial for his father's number.

It keeps ringing. No one picks up.

You try once more, one more time after that. But still, nothing. It shifts to voicemail. You decide it's better than nothing, "hi Iwaizumi-san. This is Y/N, Hoisuke's teacher. I was just wondering what time you would be picking up Hoisuke? Please call me as soon as possible. Thank you."

You end the call only to spot Hoisuke's eyes on you, intent and impatient for you to explain, "it's okay," you tell him with a smile, "he'll be here soon. Don't worry. Do you want to keep colouring some more?"

Hoisuke nods, to which your smile widens. It's those special moments, where your shyest students express themselves, that your chest warms with sympathy and affection. You've been there, you know how it feels like not to be heard, and you appreciate every interaction they offer you.

Being a primary school teacher is tough, especially since it wasn't in your original plans. But the satisfaction of bringing up some of the world's future leaders cancelled out all the late nights correcting tests and scrambled weekends trying to finish off as many worksheets as you possibly could for the coming week. You can’t complain, not when you have a decent salary that keeps bread on the table and a roof over your head.

A tug on your sleeve brings you back to Hoisuke looking up at you, a scribbled drawing of what seems to be of him and his dad. You feel yourself chuckling at how he's drawn both their hair in brown spikes, erratically extravagant and yet so close to reality.

"That's really good, Hoisuke!" You beam down at him, "what do you and your dad do on weekends?"

He shrugs shyly, head averted to the side so that there's no need for eye contact. And in the shyest voice he can muster up, he says:

"Daddy brings me...to see Mama," Hoisuke's words are barely above a mumble, "they live in different houses. They can't live together anymore."

Uneasiness squeeses in your stomach, followed by sympathy for this soft-hearted boy. You had overheard some of your colleagues giggling about Hoisuke's dad being attractive and single -- a combo that teachers adore -- but that doesn't mean that the weight of his words don't lay heavy on your own conscience.

"Do you miss your Mama a lot?" You ask him softly. Unconsciously, your hand finds a way to smooth over his head.

The boy doesn't pull away. Instead, he nods, "sometimes. But it is better this way. Daddy smiles more now. And there's no one to shout and make noise."

"Are you happy, Hoisuke? With your dad?"

He nods and to your amazement grins, "daddy is funny. He tells me not to swear but when he burns the food he always swears. And then he says to shush and tells me to close my ears. He also makes me pancakes every Saturday morning before I go see Mama."

Right on cue, a figure bursts through the open classroom door and both your heads snap to see a drenched, older version of Hoisuke who looks like he just finished running a marathon.

"I'm--" he wheezes, causing you to stand in alarm and concern, "I'm sorry I'm--so late--"

"Daddy, you forgot me again!" Comes Hoisuke's statement as you ask Iwaizumi if he's okay. He shakes off your worry with a flick of his hand and a shake of his head, "I'm fine. Sorry-- there's a nasty rain outside--"

"It's okay," you reassure him as Hoisuke practically barrels into his father and almosy knocks him off his feet.

"Sorry Hoisuke," you watch Iwaizumi's hardened features soften ever so slightly as he ruffles his son's hair. Then, looking back up at you as you bring over Hoisuke's backpack, he says, "thank you. For looking after him."

"It's no problem, honestly. We had fun didn't we?" You grin down at your student and are delighted to find Hoisuke grinning back up at you, albeit shyly, "I put his homework in his diary. He'll need to complete it for tomorrow so that he doesn't fall behind in class."

His father nods, "alright. Thanks."

"Daddy, your hair looks atrocious," Hoisuke says, tugging onto his shirt.

"Atrocious huh?" Iwazumi's eyebrow rise, "someone was listening in their English class today."

"Atrocious means that it looks bad. Daddy, your hair looks bad."

"Thanks buddy, I knew that. Now say bye to Miss Y/N."

"Bye bye, miss Y/N," Hoisuke says, wriggling his short arm through the air as you wave back with a giggle. His father nods at you in silent thanks, makes a move to walk out of the class, only to swivel back to you just as you're collecting your bag.

"Uhm," he clears his throat, causing you to jump slightly, "yes?" You blink back at him and try hard not to stare at the way his white shirt clings to his toned chest, translucent from the rain.

"Do you need a ride?"

-----

You've known Iwaizumi since high school. Having graduated just two years later than he did, his reputation had preceded him throughout the school halls even though you'd never actually had any face to face interaction with the said man. Iwaizumi doesn't know this of course and you are adamant about keeping it a secret. But that plan seems to be unraveling before your very eyes the moment your small talk turns towards your academic history.

"You're from Aoba Johsai?" His surprised glance doesn't escape your notice, especially since that's the most reaction you've gotten out of him.

"Yeah," your eyes stay glued to the row of cars crawling through the motorway, "I remember you went there too, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"You were Aoba's ace volleyball player. Everyone knew who you were."

His silence answers you and for a moment, you fear that you might have offended him. Not that it's something to be offended about.

Before you try to scratch your brain for some kind of response -- any response -- Hoisuke pipes up from the back seat, "Daddy was famous back when he was in high school. He hit the ball like kapow! And jumped so high he can touch the sky."

"Oh? Have you seen him on camera?" You turn slightly, a small smile dangling off your lips at how adorably amazed and excited Hoisuke seems to be.

"Yeah! His spikes are so awesome! It goes pow! And it zooms! Like a cannon ball!"

You burst out laughing, "yes, your father was amazing whenever he was on the court. Every girl in our class had a crush on him."

"What's a crush?"

"Hmm, you know when you really like someone. You like like them, you want to be together with them. Like, girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Oh," Hoisuke draws out, "did you really like daddy too?"

"Yeah I did."

"What?" Iwaizumi almost chokes on his own spit at the same time traffic eases and you're glad for the distraction, for you're certain there's a scattering of colour upon your cheeks.

"Do you really like him now?" Hoisuke persists, undoubtly untouched by the embarrassment taking over his father's features and you swear that more than ever, you want to laugh at how flustered Iwaizumi looks.

You decide to play nice though and instead turn to wink at your student, "that's a secret for me to keep."

You don't have to look twice to know that the man beside you is bursting into hot flames.

-----

"Did you really like Mama before you started living separately?"

Iwaizumi swears that he's never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Not when he's had to state that he was divorced, not when he had to sign divorce papers half drunk off his ass. Not even when he'd raged after his said ex-wife after finding a tie that wasn't his own in his laundry pile.

Now is probably a good definition of what uncomfortable means.

"You're not gonna let me off the hook are you?" He steals a glance at Hoisuke from over his shoulder while stirring the vegetable curry, "yes, I really liked your mother."

"Did she?"

The word 'yes' almost slips past his mouth. Except, he isn't sure whether that's the truth and decides to shoot back with, "have you finished your homework, Hoisuke? You know it's due tomorrow. Miss Y/N said so."

"Do you really like miss Y/N?"

"What?" Iwaizumi frowns, "well--no. Not like that."

"Why?" His son whines, "I really really like Miss Y/N. She's nice to me and she never shouts. And she bakes good cookies!"

"How'd you know that?" Iwaizumi leans over to taste a bit of the sauce. Not bad, he thinks and mentally pats himself on the back. A few weeks ago, he would've probably burnt the entire house down.

"Because she bakes them every month. Every time we finish a test."

"That's nice of her."

"Yes," there's a pause as the man fishes out a bowl in which to serve the curry, "daddy, what do you do when you really like someone? Do you marry them like you and Mama did?"

"Uh--yeah. Sure."

"Then does that mean I need to marry Miss Y/N if I really like her?"

"Yup."

"Daddy!"

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing. Turning off the stovetop and bringing the bowl over to the dining table, he reaches out to ruffle his son's hair with a grin, "you're the one who has a crush on miss Y/N."

"She's too old for me Daddy," grumbles Hoisuke while scooping out two rice bowls as the pair sit down for dinner, "but she'll be good for you."

"Not that simple, buddy," Iwaizumi says as he dumps two spoonfuls of curry into his son's bowl, before doing the same with his own, "there's a difference between like and love."

A frown falls over his son's face, so like his own that Iwaizumi can't help but chuckle, "what is the difference?"

"Well, when you really like someone, you might want to get to know them better. Or play with them andd shit--stuff like that. When you love someone, it's..." he hesitates, "it's different."

"Why?"

There goes that innocent question that punctures his chesy a little too deeply. The brown-haired man steadies his gaze upon the calendar fixed on the wall opposite him as he answers with:

"When you love someone, you want to live with them. You want to start a family with them. Their happiness," his brown orbs switch back to his son's focused attention, "their happiness is all that matters."

Maybe it's the fact that he's not used to speaking so truthfully about such things. Maybe it's just Hoisuke who suddenly realizes the layers hidden beneath his father's poker-faced exterior. But for a moment, neither of them speak, as if bewitched by a silencing spell if broken by the scraping of cutlery against porcelain.

"Did you love mama?"

Hoisuke's voice is small, fragile. So fragile that Iwaizumi pauses just as his spoon reaches his mouth, glancing over at his boy. His beautiful boy.

"Yeah."

Another short pause. "Did she love me?"

"Of course she did," Iwaizumi's face softens. To be honest, Hoisuke hadn't showed any kind of restraint during the entire divorce procedure, had merely accepted things as they had unfolded before his very eyes. But sometimes, Iwaizumi fears his son might be keeping more from him than he lets on.

He ressembles his mother a lot in that sense.

"Then," wet coffee-coloured eyes blink up at him, lips trembling with a hoarse whisper, "why'd she leave?"

Before his father can say anything, the young boy bursts into tears.

Iwaizumi rushes over, clasping Hoisuke in his embrace as the child buries his face into his neck and cries and cries and cries. His little heart beats like wild horses and with every sob echoing through hid body, Iwaizumi feels his own heart break over and over again. One of his hands rub comforting circles of Hoisuke's back, while the other smoothes over the back of his head as he murmurs soft nothings in hopes that it will calm down the young child.

"I want--" Hoisuke's voice is thick with tears, "I want Mama--"

"Shh, hey it's okay," Iwaizumi murmurs out, "s'alright kiddo. I got you."

Hoisuke falls asleep eventually, the soft sniffles dying out into even breaths as he slumps against his father’s shoulder, probably tired out from his earlier emotions. Iwaizumi takes this as his chance to tuck the boy into bed, glad that he’d listened to the small subconscious in his head telling him that Hoisuke would be falling asleep sooner rather than latter.

As he smoothes over his son’s hair, a part of him wonders how much Hoisuke is still silently hurting from his mother’s departure. He can’t imagine it; suddenly changing lives like you’ve merely changed your bed sheets and Iwaizumi had been so caught up in his own heartbreak, in his own bout of silent rage, that he’d forgotten that along the way, Hoisuke was also a victim to their endless fighting, the cold war that had broken his family apart.

He wishes he can take the pain away, ease it somehow. But it’s not that simple. The truth is, no one can actually predict how a heart gets broken, nor when it does. The only evidence are the repurcussions. And it’s only now that Iwaizumi gets to see it truly take its form.

Leaning over to press a soft kiss to Hoisuke’s forehead, Iwaizumi murmurs his silent goodnight before walking out and gently closing the bedroom door behind him.

He leans onto the hard wooden surface and rubs his eyes. It is only upon pulling them away that he takes notice of the family photograph hanging on the opposite wall, frozen smiles wrapped up in lies.

He really needs to take that down.

-----

777 notes · View notes

chocolateheart · 4 years ago

Text

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

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whoree321 · 3 years ago

Text

the bad batch + what romance/rom com movies they watch with you

each of the bad batch x gn!reader

ok first and foremost i really truly believe to the pits of my soul that every single one of these fuckos loves romances and you cannot under any circumstances change my mind

ALSO it’s a gender neutral reader except kinda in echo’s theres like a very brief quote regarding breasts but like i still think even that is pretty gender neutral tbh

so anyway

Hunter: Pretty Woman

this is not the first time that i have publicly declared that i think hunter has a deep rooted connection to the movie pretty woman and it will not be the last

first of all this movie is incredibly soothing to hunters overwhelming savior complex

second of all hunter is literally richard gere (debonaire but emotionally distant gentleman that learns to love) and julia roberts (hooker with a heart of gold) at the same time

he was a little skeptical the first time you put it on but he instantly fell in love with it

the humor, the sensuality, the class divide, the glamour, the unconventional cinderella story of it all. it just really butters his bread

after the first time, when you suggest watching a movie and you pick this one he’ll act very aloof about it (“whatever you want cyar’ika, it doesn’t matter to me”) but secretly he’s really really happy bc it’s one of his favorites (you def know this and def pick it more often)

he absolutely hates the scene when stucky the lawyer hits vivian. like it doesn’t matter how many times he watches it he will fully turn his head away from the screen and say “I don’t like this part” and when it’s over he nuzzles a little closer into you and very tenderly kisses your forehead

he loves the soundtrack too. like he fully exposes how much he likes the movie when you catch him singing or humming “pretty woman” or “it must have been love” absently to himself (you kept it to yourself for a while but eventually you just had to tease him about it. he just smiled a little sheepishly and admitted he liked the songs before promptly changing the subject)

hunter also lowkey definitely wants to recreate the ending where richard gere shows up to her apartment in the white limo with you bc he thinks it’s such a sweet gesture and he wants to treat you like royalty

Crosshair: 10 Things I Hate About You

if there’s one thing about crosshair it’s that he’s a sucker for the enemies to lovers genre

maybe its just him projecting (spoiler alert it most certainly is) but he really enjoys watching the drama conflama of a miserable bastard be tricked into love

and really that’s the true essence of 10 Things I Hate About You

he will grumble and bitch and moan about not wanting to watch a ‘chick flick’ when you put it on, but 15 minutes in and he’s hooked

he has strong negative opinions on literally every single character except for kat and patrick

(crosshair really really wants to think he’s patrick but when it comes down to it he is katarina stratford in every single possible way)

he doesn’t say a word throughout the entire movie but you can tell when he’s annoyed at like bianca or cameron or joey bc he will openly scoff at them

will absolutely hum along in your ear during the “can’t take my eyes off you” scene and make out with you during the paintball scene

(seriously he wants to be patrick verona so bad)

when it’s over and you ask him what he thought he’ll roll his eyes and say “i guess it could have been worse” but his little smirk let’s you know he enjoyed it a lot more than he’s willing to admit

Tech: 50 Shades of Grey

ok hear me out on this one

tech is a huge movie talker. like subtitles are a non-negotiable if you wanna be able to take in any of the movies dialogue bc tech is most likely gonna make commentary over it the whole time

this makes him absolutely indescribably so much fun to watch bad/corny movies with

he will go off about EVERYTHING. the plot, the dialogue, the acting, the costuming, the music, the production quality. nothing and no one is safe. whether you just enjoy letting him talk at you or you join in on the roast, cheesy movies are a hoot between you two

and honey. 50 shades is one of THE cheesiest movies ever

you and tech will literally spend the entire duration of the movie tearing it to shreds

and the thing is tech is a very sarcastic, funny guy when he wants to be (and when it comes to you he definitely wants to be) so by the end of it he will have you in absolute stitches from laughing at the ridiculousness of both the movie and him

with any of the other batchers watching a movie like this either turns into a shy, slightly awkward experience (wrecker, echo) or an incorrigibly horny experience (crosshair, hunter)

but in this context tech literally has no shame or squeamishness about sexual things (why should he it’s a natural biological process?) so to yall the sex stuff is just another thing to roast

literally christian grey could be fully tying dakota johnson down and flogging her and tech will be like “in the last 3 minutes they have panned up to her nipples 4 times. this is criminally shoddy cinematography”

even tho he’s busy giving a detailed play by play critique, he never fails to keep some sort of physical contact with you (wrapping an arm around you and running his hand up and down your skin, playing with your fingers or your hair) so you know he’s enjoying spending this time with you despite his nasty words about the movie

also 1000% after you watch it tech will do extensive research on the ins and outs of bdsm and will have lots of hypotheses he wants to test out (as long as you’re willing and able ofc) ;)))

Wrecker: 13 Going On 30

of all the bad batch members, wrecker is the only one who unabashedly loves any movie that could be considered a chick flick

like he doesn’t even try to hide it or act like he’s too masculine for it. he loves romance and he’s proud of it

this man will have full marathons with you. rom coms, regular roms, tragic roms, hallmark roms, you name it and he’s game

his absolute favorite tho is 13 Going On 30

i feel like he has a huge soft spot for childhood best friends to lovers stories like he finds that type of lifelong partnership so endearing (and he loves to live vicariously through jenna since that type of romance was obviously never an option for him)

wrecker is also very childlike at heart and i think the idea of a 13 year old sweetheart trapped inside the body of a 30 year old cut throat magazine exec is so amusing to him (and maybe makes him feel just a little bit represented in the media)

he is definitely the type to completely engulf you in a cuddle for the entirety of the movie and he DEFINITELY cries into your shoulder at matty’s wedding when jenna is crying on the stoop with her dream house

he wants to try razzles so bad. like so bad. i think if he ever came across them somewhere he would barter at least one of his brothers for them

wrecker really just loves love and watching movies about it just reminds him of how lucky he is to have his own love story with you <3

Echo: The Princess Bride

i feel like it’s glaringly obvious why echo loves this movie

pirates. sword fighting. decades long revenge plots. the value of an honorable, loyal man. true love that never wavers even in the face of devastating tragedy and the darkest of hardships. clever but goofy humor.

echo considers this an action/adventure movie and NOT a romance movie (even tho it 100% totally is a romance movie) and requests to watch it very frequently

he can quote the whole thing. i’m seriously telling you echo loves the princess bride with his whole chest

even tho he refuses to admit it’s a love story above all else, he really does try to model himself in your relationship after wesley

like especially given what happened at the citadel and all the time you thought he was dead, the cinematic parellels are alive and present in y’alls relationship and he strives to be even half the man to you that wesley is to buttercup

literally in your day to day life he will sometimes respond to your requests with a smooth “as you wish ;)” (it doesn’t matter how many times he does it it still gives you butterflies)

when you watch the movie, he snuggles as close to you as possible and does his best to make youre comfy the whole time (he’s insecure about his prosthetics hurting you no matter how much you reassure him they don’t)

he just loves to be able to feel your heartbeat and your laugh when you giggle at the funny bits

every single time without fail at the part when buttercup is about to stab herself he leans down, ghosts his lips against the shell of your ear, and whispers the line in time with wesley: “there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. it would be a pity to damage yours”

every single time without fail you wind up making out until he pulls away and tells you to watch the next part when wesley challenges humperdinck to a duel to the pain

echo just loves you to bits and wants you to know he’d endure a thousand fire swamps for you

Omega: Clueless

i have this really specific obsession with omega being a total girly girl and having very traditionally feminine interests as she keeps experiencing the universe and being exposed to a spectrum of gender expression beyond clone (masc and boring) and kaminoan (ugly)

so with that headcanon of her in mind, it’s vital to me that she sees clueless as soon as possible

clueless is an essential piece of media for a girl entering adolescence and i will die on this hill

it has literally everything you want and everything you need to develop into a well-rounded young woman

it’s so deliciously 90s and glamorama and valley girl humor and camp. its got meaningful female friendships and valuable life lessons and paul mf rudd

if there’s one thing you should encourage a burgeoning hetero teen girl to do, it’s to stick to dating guys like paul rudd in clueless. the earlier this message can be broadcast the better

the second you’re able to steal omega away from hunters watchful eyes (“hunter we’re just gonna watch finding nemo i swear!”) you show her this movie

at this point omega is not really a girly girl, but omega also has absolutely zero feminine influence in her life

the first time she sees clueless she is absolutely obsessed. like seriously she is so enamoured with the glitz and glam of cher horowitz

she asks you questions the entire time. she wants to know about EVERYTHING. the makeup, the clothes, the hair, the slang

(she definitely goes around saying stuff like “i’m totally bugging” for long enough afterwards that almost all of the boys have slipped up at least once with some ridiculous valley girl slang. you thought you were gonna die of laughter when you overheard tech say “as if!” to wrecker in the middle of an argument)

it just really introduces her to this whole world of femininity that she didn’t even know existed and she absolutely loves it

she makes you watch clueless with her seriously once a week at minimum. she begs you to style her hair like tai’s and you can’t help yourself when you happen to run across a little yellow plaid dress and buy it for her on sight

(hunter was gonna scold you for recklessly spending credits until he saw how omega almost cried from how happy she was for the gift)

honestly she enjoys the romance of it all and paul rudd is def her first celebrity crush but she enjoys more that you and her now have this special thing of hair and nails and pretty dresses

she loves how confident and beautiful and special you’re able to make her feel, and you love that you get to bring her that small sense of normalcy and happiness

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