#UGH LOOK HOW ADORABLE YOU DREW HIS FUCKING CURLS

[uncouth-the-fifth]

Happy 100 followers🥳🥳🥳

Can you write a fic w the prompt 371 with Robin and a shy shy VERY SHY s/o??🥺🥺🥺

I like that most of your fics have an of confidence to y/n but I'd rather have her extremely shy pls

371. "You have a voice and body like an angel. I'd fuck you from behind, but then I wouldn't get to see those pretty eyes," with Damian Wayne.

ugh, i never realized that before! almost all of my readers are super confident, so i should try and mix it up more. thank you for the prompt!! happy 100 🥳 some sex pollen fun for u!

After hours of blood testing, surveillance, and fear, Damian was finally released to go home with you. Poison Ivy was officially in custody. Though Damian was confident that she hadn't dosed him fatally during their latest battle, Dick and Tim had coaxed him to take the precautionary tests anyway. Ivy’s usual toxin came up, which they had dozens of cures for in the cave. Bruce let him return home after being dosed with one, but asked that you keep an eye on him - not like you wouldn't already.

You could sense how tired Damian was. The fighting had lasted through the night, so the testing had brought you both to morning. The moment you shut the door of your apartment, you touched Damian's back. "Tell me if you feel any different, okay? I'm worried about you."

"I'm immune to hundreds of varieties of poison, beloved," Damian scoffed, shoving off his coat. He planted a soft kiss on your temple. "You don't need to worry."

"...I'll do my best," you replied, wary.

You had some things to do around the house, so you asked Damian to crash in the living room instead of the bedroom to keep him in sight. The night's events had apparently rattled him, because he twisted and turned under his blanket, grunting to himself. An hour passed with this routine. Damian would sigh and struggle to fall asleep, and you'd pause your tasks to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. He was only relaxed with his head in your lap, curling his cheek into your touch and blinking slowly at you.

"Talk to me," he murmured.

"About?"

Damian closed his eyes under your hand. "Anything. I... like your voice." He hummed to himself, brows gently furrowed, "...And your hair... your eyes..." he swallowed, "...your body."

Rendered bloodless by the compliments, you couldn't help but comply with Damian's request. It was always hard for him to fall asleep, and even harder for him to sleep well, so your heart ached for him. You talked about anything you could think of. What chores you had to do this week, how little you wanted to do them - bland things, like the dishes and clothes shopping. When you got to the part about the bras you were thinking about getting, Damian perked up.

"What kind?" He cleared his throat.

"Something cute," you shrugged. "You, um, r-ripped my favorite lace one, so I'll have to find something more durable? Something that looks just as nice."

"Mmn..." Damian's voice was thick with something dark. He sat up suddenly, turned over on his hands, and faced you on his knees. One broad palm squeezed the softest part of your thigh. “I adore you in lace,” he panted, pupils huge and black as the night sky, “the way those tiny panties wrap around your hips... I-I can’t resist myself. Just thinking about you in those cute little clothes makes me want to fuck you like an animal...”

“D-Damian!” You yelped. He’d never said anything like that to you before. Stunned words popped into your mind, but his hands caressing under your waistband made it impossible to speak.

“Say my name like that again,” he hissed. Damian crawled over you like a panther, dark and sexual. One huge hand viciously pinched your jaw and squeezed it. “You have the voice, the body of an angel - I’d fuck you from behind, but then I wouldn’t get to see those enchanting eyes.”

You braced your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his nude back. It was embarrassing how wet you were at just a little praise. “Damian... t-the toxin, it could be—”

All the energy in the world seemed to surge into him. Damian’s plump mouth kissed and nuzzled your neck. “I took the antidote already. Don’t worry, my love.” The fingers playing with the edge of your pants suddenly plunged in, cupping your damp, clothed core and practically singing, “This is only a side effect...”

His warm tongue drew and sucked circles into your throat, which instantly melted into his touch. You should be trying to be reasonable, but the power of Damian’s voice washed over you like a spell, and the slow, methodical press of his fingertips to your clit sealed the enchantment over you. Damian had you  captured.

“Won’t you be a good girl and help your boyfriend feel better?” Damian drawled, wetting his fingers in your cunt. “I need you, Y/N... p-please, I’m so hard for you...”

He wasn’t lying. As your dance slowly reclined deeper into the cushions, you could feel his cock hardening against your leggings. Damian pulled himself out only when he knew you were watching, and pumped himself slowly, poorly, like he couldn’t bare to do it without you. Your cheeks burned with heat. You knew from experience how good Damian’s cock felt in hand, the weight of it meant for your touch and your touch alone. You drifted your fingers around him and Damian mewled, thrusting so hard into your touch that his sweatpants fell around his legs.

“C’mere,” you relented, and Damian crashed his lips so deeply to yours that it flattened you to the couch.

He tore down your leggings so you could wrap your legs around his middle. Damian pulled your bodies flush and curved his back, giving you both room to enjoy how you jerked the other off. With a throaty moan against your tongue, Damian sawed his cock between your folds and into your fingers, wetting the fabric of your panties. A boiling wave of heat locked your legs in place. Madly, Damian rolled his thumb around your clit, his voice keening into your ear with every circle, “So fucking beautiful... So fucking good for me...”

His enthusiasm made you desperate. Spitting a foamy circle of drool into your palm, you coated Damian’s sensitive shaft and lathered him as best you could. Damian’s jittery hips did most of the work, bucking his cock into the soft, sticky tunnel of your hand. You kissed like you were fighting, biting at the other’s lips and claiming each other's mouths with wide swipes of your tongues.

If you upped your pace, Damian would meet it. When you pumped him faster, Damian snapped your panties to the side and melted his fingers inside you. That was as coherent as the touching got. Everything else was primal instinct, wanting to touch and wanting to be touched. Damian’s free hand caressed your belly, grabbed your thighs, groped your breasts through your shirt, spasming for every inch of skin it could find. His mouth was the same, wildly claiming your moans until his lungs burned.

You came together, laboring for breath and trembling from head to toe. Damian pushed your shirt over your belly and came across it with unrestrained bliss, and you squeezed around his fingers, wound up like a toy box until Damian set you free.

But just as soon as his fingers drew away from your cunt, they closed around your thighs, pushing your knees against your chest and spreading your legs for him. The toxin’s side-effects had a greater hold on him than you thought - Damian was still rock hard, his girthy, wet tip playing with your pulsing folds.

Before he filled you, Damian uttered a single low order: 

“Moan for me.”

#damian wayne/you #damian wayne/reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne #user uncouth

[achliegh]

Ours

So, @punkkkkboi drew a pic and then I asked to write a fic about it… It might have got a little out of hand.

TW/CW: Drinks, smut, kinky sex, punishment, some fucking sweet shit at the end.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

“You’re Logan Tremblay, right?” A man was sitting next to him at the bar, Logan was sitting and resting his feet after a night of dancing. Waiting for his boys to leave the bathroom where they were probably getting off. Not paying much attention to who he was talking to Logan just nods and sips his drink.

“Hockey fan?”

“Something like that.” The man smirks and rests his arm on the bar behind Logan without the idiot even noticing.

“What about it do you like? The game or the people?” looking the man in the eyes, just trying to make conversation while he waited. The man leaned closer and he didn’t back up, he was just being friendly, also Logan being so in love with Leo and Finn doesn’t even realize when people are hitting on him. From the lady at the grocery store to the old guy on the subway.

“The people for sure.” Logan raises an eyebrow when the man's eyes flick to his mouth and back to his eyes, he feels a hand on his waist and looks up to see his boys. Smiling instantly, like a little puppy, he hops up and hugs Leo around his waist just melting into his side. Finn came up to sit where Logan was.

“And who are you?” Finn takes a drink from Logan's glass while Leo listens to Logan ramble on about all the things he thought about while they were gone.

“Just someone interested in Logan Tremblay, why are you his owner?” The man is looking annoyed and glares at Finn, looking around him to see Leo kissing all over Logan's face causing the man to laugh. Frowning, the man finishes his drink and stands up. “Whatever.” He mutters as he walks off.

As they enter the apartment, the fun and giggly atmosphere changes a bit as Leo and Finn silently agree that Logan needs a bit of a refresher. Taking his hands they lead him to the bedroom and sit him on the bed. They just stand and look at him for a moment, drinking in the adorable blush on his face.

“So… Flirting?” Leo looks down at him and cups his cheek as Finn is rummaging through their little box full of kinky shit. “Logan, we saw you and we know sometimes you need to be reminded that you are ours.” Punctuating the last three words with a sweet peck on the lips after every word, both of them smiling. Leo starts unbuttoning Logan half-way buttoned shirt and slides it off his shoulders, nipping at his jaw playfully.

Finn walks over with the soft bonds they have for when they know whoever is going to wear them will be wearing them for a while. Logan willingly holds out his hands, the fire in his lower belly burning with anticipation of the amazing sex he knows hes going to get from his boys.

The boys always think he is just being oblivious when it comes to flirting but also not flirting with people. Sometimes he does it on purpose because he wants something wild in bed. He loves the hungry looks and intense feeling when his boys get like this. He was theirs just like how they were his and they were each others. Perfectly balanced.

Getting comfy Logan rests his head back on the pillow as he is being tightened up, practically purring when he feels two different hands roaming all over his body. Unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them and his underwear off. For some reason they leave his socks on though, they probably forgot about them.

Leo tosses Finn the lube because prep is his favorite thing, Leo goes to sit next to Logan, lightly stroking his filling cock. Teasing him in the worst way. Both Finn and Leo were completely clothed and that just made the whole scene so much more hot in Logan's head. Groaning a little as Leo’s hand tightens its grip in him and Finn slides a finger into him at the same time, his vision goes fuzzy for a second.

Once the two get a rhythm set Logan is a mess, babbling in random words of French and English. His eyes widen and his breath stutters as his all time favorite toy is pushed into him. A neon green vibrator, and it’s only on the first setting, knowing his boys they are going to move it up a setting every few minutes until it is at the max. Which is ten. Panting and trying to press his hips into the mattress to feel more of the light vibrations pulsating pleasure through his body.

Feeling sweat pricking his skin he opened his eyes, from when they closed as the vibrations were turned on, and gasped as he saw his boys just sitting there in chairs at the end of the bed. Just watching him, fucking him with their eyes. They were going to make him beg, when they knew Logan had too much pride for that.

“So who was that man from earlier?” Finn is looking him straight in the eyes as Leo leans forward to turn the setting on the toy up. Jolting Logan moans and curls his toes, setting his jaw so he doesn’t cum so early. It has only been like 10 minutes and he knows he’s going to cum a lot tonight but not this soon. “Logan, who was he.” Finn grabs his thighs and pushes his knees down so his legs are straightened on the bed. His eyes are sharp and Logan whimpers as he answers.

“I-I I didn’t get his name! Ugh! Again!” His body trembles as he feels Finn push the toy into his spot causing a spike of happy chemicals to flow through his veins. He was breathing so hard, everything became urgent for a minute until Finn thrusted it in again and Logan lost it. Cumming for the first time that night, but that wouldn’t stop anything.

He turned the vibe up to the next setting, the mix of overstimulation and soothing hands on his thighs caused tears to prick his eyes. They were only on the third or forth setting, he couldn’t remember.

The next few minutes were silent from the tall two, turning up the setting every once in a while and groaning as they watched Logan cum for a second time once they turned it up to the seventh setting. Logan would tell you the boys weren’t going to last much longer but he was so far gone into a blackhole of nothing but pleasure and a little pain. An existence full of soothing and loving words mixed with firm and authoritative questions and tight grips on his thighs and hips. There would be marks and he would love every. Single. One.

“Logan, how are you feeling?” Leo, the sweet heart, has crawled up the bed to press open mouth kisses and adoring pecks to logans overheated skin, while Finn left dark sensitive hickeys on his inner thighs. A sharp bite from Finn causes Logan to fall over the edge for the third time as the vibe was clicked up to the last setting, it was almost too much and not enough at the same time. Logan yearned for his boys to fuck him, use him, make him theirs.

“je te veux- je te veux!” Logan barely got the words out before groaning as he felt the toy being clicked off and slowly and torturously being slid out of him. He feels himself clench around nothing and he feels empty. Something he wishes he could never feel again. He just about screams from pleasure as he feels Finn slam into him in one solid thrust, not having any patience to wait he starts fucking Logan hard and fast. Gripping his hips so he doesn’t slide up the bed, the feels of jealousy being shown through his actions.

Leo is swirling his finger through the mess on Logan's chest and stomach leaving light feather like touches everywhere. Making Logan shiver as he body completely loses control, he feels Finn spilling into him and that causes him to finish harder than he had any of the other times.

Leo and Finn share a couple of heated kisses before switching positions, asking permission before gliding in Leo sets s slow and easy pace. Knowing Logan was already going to be sore tomorrow he doesn’t want to make him completely miserable. Finn grips his hair as he shoves his tongue into Logan's mouth claiming it as Logan moans and gasps in his mouth. Making the other men smile. Leo slowly picks up the pace after he notices how Logan’s legs are shaking.

Logan cums once more, dry and wonderful, his body is exhausted and bubbly feeling that he starts laughing for no reason while the boys take him out of the bind and cleans him up. He dozes off still giggling ever once in a while on Finn’s chest as Leo goes to run a hot bath. The massaging of his hip flexors and lower back make him smile dopily. He murmurs how much he lover his boys as they soap his hair up into a big spike. Once he is clean, warm and wrapped in a giant towel, he comes back to a clean bed with cool sheets and is laid on his stomach while his boys tell jokes and sweet things, spreading and kneading muscle rub into his definitely sore muscles.

Sliding on some boxers they all cuddle in the bed. Just before he completely falls asleep Logan murmurs into Finn’s neck.

“I love when you’re jealous.”

#leo knut #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #o’knutzy #o'knutzy #sweater weather #coast to coast #smut

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Dr. Chilton Hates Camping [NSFW]

K!nktober 2020 Kink Bingo!: Blowjobs

For @thatesqcrush’s kink bingo!

Because for some reason this picture always makes me think Frederick is packing to go camping, and he would look exactly this miserable if he was. 

1,671 words

Feathery tops of pine trees swayed blue-green in a gentle northern breeze off the lake, the late summer air buzzing with a chorus of insects and birds. Golden light cast a hazy glow over your backcountry campsite as the sun began to sink in the sky. It was beautiful and serene. Perfect, even.

For the number of fancy galas and boring dinners Dr. Chilton dragged you to, it seemed only fair that he tolerate going camping. 

“Gah! Die, you blood-sucking fiend!” Chilton shrieked, and a smacking sound echoed off the lake. He grunted. Heavy, annoyed footfalls paced across the camp.

That was your first mistake—thinking Dr. Frederick Chilton shared your notion of “fairness” or the ability to tolerate things with fewer than five stars. All day since backpacking to the primitive campsite he complained there were rocks in his shoes. He was tired. His bag was too heavy. 

A small fire crackled in the center of a bare clearing in the trees near the lake shore. You dropped a larger log onto the tinder as the flames grew hungry enough to bear it, and excitedly rifled through a stuff sack for the makings of s'mores you’d packed.

There was a hissing noise behind you, and you choked on the bitter chemical air, covering your mouth as Chilton’s nuclear cloud of bug spray wafted over to you.

“Can you not spray that upwind of me, please?” you coughed.

He glared at you miserably and swatted another mosquito.

“This is not a fair trade. The things I bring us to are enjoyable. They are civilized, and... indoors!” Swat! “It is freezing, and—and damp, and these damned bugs want to drain me like a phlebotomist in training!” Swat!

“Sit by the fire,” you suggested. “It’s warm and dry, and the smoke repels bugs.”

“It does a better job repelling my lungs.” He stood taller and temperamentally fussed with the buttons of his wool peacoat (because why would he have worn sensible technical gear when he could look stylish). “If you need me... I shall be inside! Waiting until tomorrow when we can leave!” He turned on his heel and stormed into the small, orange tent, and gave his best effort at slamming the nylon zip-up door.

You speared a fat marshmallow onto the end of a stick and sat by the fire, making a s’more while grumbling to yourself about what a baby he was being. This could have been a nice trip if he wasn’t so—ugh!

By the time you finished the crunchy melty treat, you felt much better. It got your blood sugar up, anyway. Sighing, you followed him into the tent.

Chilton had his reading glasses on and was squinting at the glowing screen of his phone as he held it in the air trying to get service… which clearly was not working. You were way off the grid.

The tent flat unzipping caught his attention, and he gave you such a pathetic look as you ducked inside. His always-perfect hair was droopy where it usually stuck up and fluffed up where it was usually slicked down.

“It is damp and cold in here too,” he whined. “And the floor! The floor is lumpy. How will I sleep?”

Your heart softened at the sight of him. He was just so adorable it made your cheeks burn. Crawling onto the sleeping bag he was sitting on, you reached out and gingerly plucked a twig from his hair.

His eyes widened in mortification, and he quickly patted down his head for any other horrible bits of nature that might have latched onto him. “This is not my idea of fun,” he said.

“Well, I’m happy that you tried it for me. Really, I’m impressed you actually came.”

His eyes darted down to your lips, suddenly aware of how close you were sitting, and one cheek twitched briefly into almost a smile. “You wanted to do this,” he said gently. Of course he was going to come.

You leaned forward to close the distance and kissed him. His eyes shut and he moaned softly into your mouth, his frazzled, exhausted, itchy body locking onto you as source of comfort like a heat-seeking missile.

“You taste like chocolate,” he murmured, lips breaking away just far enough to breathe your air, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Have you ever had s’mores?”

“Of course I have,” he answered, a little offended at the implication. He was not so sheltered and elitist to have never roasted a marshmallow. “Not since I was a child…”

“I can make you one. Or if you come out, we can sit by the fire and make them together.”

He thought about it. You had straddled onto his lap, and your body heat was all the more enticing against the annoyingly wet air and cold floor. He was feeling a little less awful about the whole situation.

“But first…” you purred, hand running down the front of his shirt, continuing lower, “I was wondering how I could thank you. Since you’re doing this for me… maybe I can do something for you?”

He inhaled sharply, Adam's apple bobbing as your hand reached the front of his pants, searching between his legs. His eyes, as blue-green as the pines, fixated onto yours, but then rapidly blinked and darted around his surroundings.

“You want to do that outdoors?”

“We’re inside a tent.”

And yet he could hear squirrels chittering as if they were right inside the tent with them. The thin nylon was hardly a barrier at all, and it all felt a bit shockingly exhibitionist. But then, no one was around for miles apart from birds and squirrels who could see or hear you. The devilish idea stirred him that he could fuck you right out in the open if he wanted, like two wild animals rutting in the woods.

Exhaling a deep, breathy growl, he grabbed your face and pulled you back into a burning, fiery kiss. You grinned as he broke it, eyes still burning into you as he pushed you down to his belt.

He leaned back on his elbows, taking the passive role and letting you unbuckle his pants and slip his cock out of his underwear. He drew a sharp, quick breath in through his teeth as your tongue made contact with the tip of his head, and let it out long and easy and shuddering as the wet warmth of your mouth engulfed him. You nursed his semi-soft cock, enjoying being able to hold all of him in your mouth at once so easily, sucking and teasing it, feeling his arousal grow—his pulse getting stronger, throbbing under your tongue as his cock lengthened.

When he finally reached his full, exquisite hardness, he was too big to take in his entirety without choking. You pumped his shaft with your hand, bobbing in his lap as he let out helpless little whimpers, stroking your hair tenderly. He was always vocal in bed, but especially when he was feeling needy. He really needed to be comforted now, and you relished every shiver and moan of pleasure that told you you were doing a good job.

His fingers spasmed reflexively, pulling your hair as you took him deeper, opening your throat until you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes watered with the effort, but it turned you on feeling how much he loved it. You wanted to please Frederick so much he’d remember this trip fondly for a long time. You worked him with everything you had, twisting your hand around his shaft as you pumped it, flicking your tongue over the underside of his cock, stroking his balls, and hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him into oblivion, listening to his gasps of pleasure grow louder as he came completely undone.

His eyes squeezed closed and he threw his head back. You felt his abdominal muscles tense and twitch, and at last he could not hold his hips still and passive, and they began to jerk up into your mouth, pulsing at a rapid and shallow pace. You matched his tempo, bobbing faster on his cock, and within three shallow thrusts he shook and came with a forceful whimpering cry of your name. His hips kept pulsing and twitching as hot, salty cum flooded your tongue.

He fell back on the sleeping bag, panting. You held him in your mouth until you were sure you had licked him clean, then buttoned him back up.

He watched you lick your swollen, shiny lips with satisfaction, admiring your beauty and your skill at making him feel… amazing. It still surprised him sometimes when he stopped to think about it—that you had chosen him. Out of anyone in the world, he was the one lucky enough to have you. It really was incredible.

“I begin to understand how my primitive ancestors got by,” he hummed.

You laid yourself next to him and he happily made room for you to curl up under his arm, wriggling as you settled beside him. He was so warm, like a furnace. Funny and charming. Overdressed. Wickedly smart. God, you loved him. The woods were the last place he should be, you laughed to yourself at your own foolishness in dragging him there. He was not at all the masculine adventure type. There was no hidden rugged side deep down waiting to spring out. But it made you want to take care of him all the more. Your stuffy, helpless, whiny, suit-wearing, scotch-sipping Frederick, who braved the wilderness just to please you.

You kissed him again, warm and tender in his arms. He smiled, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Come on,” you sat up and crawled to the front of the tent, beckoning him. “Douse yourself in bug spray, and lets sit by the fire, stuff ourselves with s’mores, and watch the sun set over the mountains.”

“I suppose...” he considered it, eyes narrowed cautiously, “it does not sound that horrible.”

#Frederick Chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #Raúl Esparza #Kinktober #Hannibal #smut #smutfic #my writing #I WROTE NON-BURNED CHILTON FOR ONCE!! YAAAY! #I've been on a bit of an angsty post-canon kick lately eh? #I ALSO!!! #WROTE!!! #A ONE SHOT!!!! #FLAWLESS VICTORY #(not really edited forgive me) #thatesqcrush kink bingo

[clarespace]

fic: funny how love is (sarawat/tine) [ao3]

-

The strumming of the guitar was a background noise to Tine's studying. If only the subject he was reading was as pleasant as the music. Land Titles and Deeds were giving him a headache, the kind that drove a nail into the middle of his skull. The words were starting to dance on the page. Groaning, Tine fell on his back, his hand over his head.

'Wh' d' I ta' law 'gain?' asked Tine, the end of the highlighter pen still stuck in his mouth.

Beside him, Sarawat snorted. His hands shifted smoothly from chord to chord, fingers plucking the strings. 'I've been wondering the same thing.'

Tine pulled the pen from his mouth. 'Don't you think I'm smart enough?'

Sarawat didn't even look at him when he said, 'No.'

Outraged, Tine threw the pen at him. It bounced against Sarawat's arm, dropped, and left a fluorescent green mark on his knee. Sarawat gave him an unimpressed look.

'You asshole,' said Tine. 'Stop fucking with me.'

Sarawat placed a palm on the strings. 'I'm not. Look at when we met.'

Tine propped himself up on his elbows. 'What does that have to do with anything?'

'Isn't it obvious?'

'No.'

Sarawat sighed as if Tine was being the most annoying person on the planet. He tossed his hair away from his face and lifted a disdainful eyebrow. 'To be a lawyer, you need to be observant. Not just the details of a case but of people. You look at a situation and analyse it from all points of view. Right?'

Tine reluctantly nodded.

Shrugging, Sarawat played a C chord. 'Well, when we first met, you had no idea that I was actually in love with you from the start.'

'What?'

Sarawat nodded, his expression solemn. 'You were totally clueless. I dropped so many hints that they stopped being hints and I outright told you my feelings.' Sarawat rested his forearms on top of his guitar and started ticking off his fingers one by one. 'I told you that I wanted to kiss you until you dropped. That you were reserved for me. I tried touching your boobs every chance I got. I came on to you so — many — times. Did you think I was just teasing you?'

Heat filled Tine's cheeks. So many memories. God, was it really just a year ago that he'd chased after this infuriating and beautiful person to chase away someone else chasing him? On hindsight, not Tine's brightest plan, and yet the outcome was even better than he could have ever hoped for. Tine now (and forever) had Sarawat for himself, didn't he?

'Shut up,' muttered Tine. Nobody — not his friends, not his family, not even his own damned boyfriend — ever let him forget just how oblivious he'd been.

Sarawat pinched his cheek. 'Do you see? You're too dense, babe. I literally asked you to marry me and you thought I was joking. How will you ever put away the bad guys?'

Tine calmly pushed Sarawat's hand away. 'Put your guitar away, Wat.'

'Hm? I'd rather not.'

'If you want to play on a broken guitar, then be my guest.'

Sarawat rolled his eyes and carefully set aside his guitar, propping it against the bedside table. He turned back to Tine, saying, 'What, are you going to hurt me — fuck!'

Without warning, Tine threw himself at Sarawat, straddling his hips and pinning him down with his weight. Sarawat let out a wheeze of surprise, his head hitting just below the pillow, his fringe flopping everywhere.

'You're such an asshole,' said Tine. 'Take it back.'

Sarawat smirked. 'Nope.'

'Ugh, I don't know why I love you,' said Tine, then kissed Sarawat on the nose. 'You asked for it, Wat.' He raised his hand.

Sarawat's eyes widened and he tried to squirm free. 'Tine, think about this. Tine, Tine, Tine! Don't! Ah, fuck, ha ha ha ha!'

Sarawat's perpetual I-could-care-less expression broke into a million pieces as Tine dragged his fingers up and down his sides, finding all the spots that made him giggle and shriek like a child. Sarawat kicked his legs behind Tine and tried to buck him off but Tine rolled with the movements like a pro. Tine was laughing, too, his smile so big that his cheeks were starting to ache.

Finally, Sarawat managed to free his arms and wrapped them around Tine, flipping their positions with a twist of his hips. Sarawat's eyes were bright, his grin mischievous, his hair a dishevelled mess.

Tine's heart was about to burst. 'Take it back,' he said.

Sarawat scrunched his nose. 'Fine. You're a smart and dedicated guy who will become an incredible lawyer in future.'

'Good. Now, say I'm not dense.'

'Sorry, babe, but you are dense.' Sarawat brushed Tine's fringe away with his knuckles. 'I played a Scrubb song at the concert because you asked me to but you only did it for a girl.'

Tine laughed out loud. 'Oh, my God, that did happen! I forgot!'

The smile on Sarawat's face softened into something more tender. 'You're lucky you're pretty, Tine.'

Tine curled his arms over Sarawat's neck. 'And you're lucky I find an asshole like you adorable.'

'Let's be lucky together,' said Sarawat, lowering his head to touch their lips.

A hand suddenly pressed against Sarawat's mouth. 'Can't,' said Tine, trying to keep a straight face, 'I have to study so I can be an incredible lawyer you'll be proud of.'

The indignant look that came over Sarawat's face sent Tine over the edge. There were tears in his eyes as he choked on his laughter. Tine wiped at his cheeks as he took deep breaths.

Sarawat remained unimpressed. 'Are you done, Tine?'

'Yes, yes, I'm done,' said Tine, still giggling, and grabbed Sarawat's shoulders and drew him down, 'I could use a break from studying, anyway.'

#2gether the series #sarawatine #2gether #sarawat x tine #tine x sarawat

[otherthingsinhead]

I Miss You

Pairing: Reader x Javier Peña

Warnings: mild language

Words: 2389

Request: Anonymous

Can you please write something about Javier Peña taking care of a little kid? Maybe babysitting for the Murphys when Olivia is a little older (toddler or preschool age, so that they can talk to each other). Or finding a little girl on the job and protecting her as a witness? Please please, I promise I'll comment on it! :)

Every time you stepped out from the kitchen your eyes flickered anxiously from face to face. It was Olivia’s birthday party and you knew that Steve invited Javier too. What you were unsure about was whether you were ready to see him again. 

It seemed he won’t make it. You heard he retired after he unveiled the connections behind the Cali cartel. He may have begun a whole new life in Texas and he is not at all interested in old friends.

Maybe you better never see him again, you thought as you walked to the table to pick up the dirty dishes when you heard the unmistakable, dark, warm-toned voice. Your heart jumped into your throat.

“Y/N?” Javier approached you with a wide smile on his face. He wore a bright shirt with jeans. His face was fuller, his mustache leaner than you remembered, but his eyes did not change anything.

“Javier.” You smiled back at him and let out the breath you had been holding.

“It’s so nice to see you. How are you?” He said biting his lips to contain his excitement.

“I’m good.” You nodded awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Nothing much going on. Just working a lot, so... I’m good. How are you?”

“I miss you.” He answered honestly and your eyes grew suddenly wide, and your breath caught in your throat. “Sorry, I... I didn’t want to...” He added, obviously embarrassed at the startled look on your face.

“No, umm... Javi, I...”

“Y/N, please! Could you help me with the sandwiches?” Connie yelled from across the room as she made her way to you. “Oh, hi Javi! I’m glad you could make it.”

“Thank you for asking me. I-uh... I brought something to Olivia.” Javier said, handing over a wrapped gift box. “It’s a unicorn-shaped purse. Steve said she likes horses, so... I-I don’t know if...”

“Oh, it’s perfect! She’s gonna love it. Thank you, Javi.”

“Sure.”

“Steve is on the porch with the guys. Grab a beer and join them!”

“Yeah. Thank you, Connie.”

He then briefly glanced at you and his lips curled into a forced smile to try and hide the fact just how miserable he felt. Then he nodded politely and disappeared behind the back door.

 Connie stared at you with a concerned expression on her face. She was your best friend since forever and she worried about you. Javier and you haven’t met since the breakup and she knew it’s gonna tear you up to see him again.

“Are you ok?”

You shrugged and a nervous chuckle escaped you before you shook your head, harshly biting your lip into your mouth to stop it from quivering.

“Oh, honey! What did he say?”

You breathed in and out twice, trying to quell your racing heart and gain control over your emotions.

“He said he misses me.” 

You assumed Connie was going to say something reassuring but she remained silent. Although, it was clear from her eyes what she thought.

“You still love him.” She said finally and tears began to well up in your eyes. Your chest hurt from holding back all the emotions that were mixing inside you but you had to be strong.

“I’m ok, Connie. I will be ok.”

“I’m sure you had the reason for leaving him but... Are you sure, he doesn’t deserve a second chance?”

A second chance. Your whole relationship was nothing more than a tide of debates and second chances. It wasn't about not being patient. For too long you had been fooling yourself with a relationship that never had a future. A relationship in which you were the third wheel.

“He doesn’t love me.” You answered faintly. However much time has passed since it still hurt to admit it.

“I don’t know. It looked like he does.”

“Exactly! It looked like!” You snapped. “He always said he misses me, needs me, wants me but he never said he loves me. We never talked about our future, as if it didn’t exist at all as if... we could live in the present forever. I...  You said but your voice choked on a sob.

“He never said he loves you?!” Connie frowned.

“Not... with words.” You said, thinking that apart from that he always made you feel loved. “Ugh, Connie! Do you think I made a mistake?”

“I don’t know, honey. Steve and I were sure if someone, you can tame him but... I guess he couldn’t appreciate what he had.”

 Steve had sort of an average life but it was everything Javier wished for himself. A loving wife, cute kids, a nice house with a backyard. Since he moved back to Texas he had been dreaming about this kind of life. A life with you, to be more specific.

He walked aimlessly around the house, smiling at the guests he barely knew and he realized he doesn’t belong there. They were husbands and wives and dads and moms, reminding him of the paths he could have but he didn't choose in his own life.

His thoughts were involuntarily wrapped around you. He thought it was his fate. To grow old alone. But sometimes he could think of nothing but what it would have been like if you had stayed together?

He was about to leave and wanted to say good-bye to you but as he walked towards the kitchen, a young woman stepped in front of him.

“Oh, thank god!” She whined and grabbed him by his shoulders. “I’m sorry sir, but I really need to leave right now. Would you please look after the children until I’m back?”

“No, no, no, no. I-I don’t, I...”

“It’ll be ok, just don’t let them kill each other. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” She yelled from the end of the corridor and disappeared.

“This is fucking great!” Javier muttered as he peeked through the opened door. There could be 10-12 little kids inside. Most of them played peacefully. He took a deep breath and stepped in.

“Hi kids!” He mumbled but no one even looked up at him so he looked for a chair, sat down and watched the kids drawing.

“Hi! My name is Ellie and I’m 5 years old.” A little girl with big blue eyes crept beside him. “Who are you?”

“Hi Ellie, I’m Javier. Do you need something or...”

“My boyfriend’s name is Javier too!” Ellie said causing Javier to furrow his brows in surprise.

“You have a boyfriend?” He asked.

“Uh-hum. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Um. No. No, I don’t have a girlfriend but...”

“Wife?”

“Nope.”

“I’ll be Javi’s wife and we’ll have thirty kids so we can play together.”

“Sounds like fun!” He said for lack of anything better to say. 

“Do you have kids?”

“Nah...” He chuckled softly.

“Don’t you like them?”

“Oh, it’s not like I... I do like kids, I just... Aren’t you too young to have a boyfriend?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“Aren’t you too old not to have a girlfriend?” She reposted folding her arms across her chest. The serious expression on her face was just as offensive as cute.

“Ouch. Well, Ellie, I-I had a girlfriend before but... she left me.” He replied and he seemed to drift away from her, into his own thoughts.

“Why?” Ellie asked, but in response, she only received a questioning hum. “Why did she leave you?” She repeated the question while bringing a piece of paper and a handful of pencils with her to settle down to Javier’s feet on the floor.

“Because... I wasn’t good enough for her.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I think I was afraid she wouldn’t be happy if she stayed with me.”

“Why?” 

“You know it’s...” Javier began then chuckled softly, shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. She didn’t really care. 

He supposed to sit on his ass, watching a bunch of kids playing for ten minutes and now he found himself trying to have a serious conversation with a five years old girl.

“I broke up with Javi once.” Ellie said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Why?” Javier asked with a tightly controlled smile.

“He broke my dollhouse door and I cried. But he apologized and he drew me a rainbow-colored heart.”

“And you just forgave him?” 

Ellie shrugged her tiny shoulders and pursed her lips to one side as she replied:

“He said he loves me.”

 “Is that... Is that Javi? With the kids?” Connie asked, tilting her head and wearing a questioning look on her face as she stood in the doorway of the playroom.

“Javi?! With kids? I don’t think so.” You giggled but soon stopped once you stepped beside her to see what she saw.

It was Javier indeed, sitting at a small table with a handful of kids, working feverishly on a drawing. It was undeniable how captivating the sight was. Your heart melted and you couldn’t help but sigh, thinking you almost forgot how adorable he can be. However, the daydreaming came to a halt when you saw the quizzical expression on Connie’s face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged grinning then stepped inside the room. “Hey, kids! Who’s ready for the cake?” She said eliciting a wave of squeal from the children that shook the whole room.

The crowd quickly ran out, leaving the room empty. There was no one left but Javier and you.

“So... What are you doing here?” You smiled at him as he stood up from the table.

“I guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He chuckled. “Can we talk?” He asked and you couldn’t help but notice the excitement in his eyes. 

You agreed and he smiled then picked up a piece of paper from the table.

“What’s this?” You asked as he handed it to you.

“I made it for you.”

“You made it?!” You said in astonishment.

“Except for the rainbow. It was Ellie.”

“I like the horse. It’s cute.”

“Um... yeah. That’s a dog.”

“Oh, sorry. The mane deceived me.”

“That’s-that’s not... whatever, just... open it!” He said and you didn’t know why but your heart began thumping and pounding like crazy in your chest.

You did as you were told and started to read:

                         I love you. Please, give me a chance to prove it.

The words on the paper blurred in front of you as tears sprang into your eyes. A whirl of dizziness caught you and a hot rush of chaos spread through your chest. You needed to breathe.

“I love you. I still love you.” His words came out like a soft whisper and felt like cold rain to parched soil. You gave him a quick glance, but as if you were paralyzed, no word came out of your throat.

“I know it was all my fault. You always said I was married to my work and that you were nothing but my mistress but... You were my life, Y/N... I just wanted to protect you, to keep you safe.” He explained moving closer to you and carefully touching your elbows with his fingers. “It was a mistake. Not letting you close and now I know and... and you have no idea how much I hate myself for letting you go, but... Please, Y/N!” He said, his palms slowly slid from your elbows to your shoulders as he leaned closer to your face to look into your eyes. “Please, forgive me and please, come back to me.”

Javier's confession came unexpectedly. Not only because it happened quite suddenly, but also because it revealed a side of him that he had carefully hidden from the world. It was time to make a decision.

“I miss you too, Javi.” You blurted out finally and it felt as if your darkest, deepest secret had now lifted from your chest like a light balloon. Javier’s heart stopped for a moment and you could see as a glint of hope rising in his eyes. “But we can’t just pick up where we left off.”

“I know...” He smiled, reaching for your face to cup it in his hands. “I was thinking if maybe we could start with a date or something.”

“A date?”

“Yes, and-and then...” He paused as if to be sure you were listening to what he was about to say. “I moved back to my father. It’s not as fancy as this house but... it has beautiful land around it and...”

“You want me to move in with you?” You asked, looking at him in bewilderment. He seemed nervous, or rather excited.

“O-or we can move to the city or anywhere, I don’t care. I just wanna be with you.”

“I want that too.” You murmured, covering his hands with your own no longer struggling to hold back your tears.

“Really?”

“Yes.” You sobbed, wiping the wetness from your cheeks. “Yes, but there is so much we need to discuss first.”

“I know. I... I’m not gonna make the same mistake again.” He said and hugged you tightly causing a wave of warm, tingling sensation to wreck your entire body.

“A date sounds good for a first step.”

“How about a kiss?” He mumbled, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

“We shouldn't rush this thing.” You scolded him softly and pulled away from his arms.

“Right! I’m sorry, we shou...” He apologized but couldn’t finish as your mouth caught his in a kiss. 

His soft, tender lips felt sweet upon your mouth and you couldn’t stop yourself from gliding your fingers into his hair, inducing a stifled a groan from him.

“I thought you wanna keep it slow.” He said, staring at you in puppy-eyed innocence.

“And you believed this?” You frowned at him with a mischevious look in your eyes.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I won’t lose you again.” He muttered softly, narrowing his eyes at you to prove just how serious he was.

“I believe you.” You beamed at him knowing for sure that he was willing to do whatever it took to make your relationship work this time.

“However... It still hurts that you mistook my dog for a horse.” He pouted and took the drawing in his hand to study.

“Why did you draw a mane on him?”

“Those are ears.”

“On his neck?!”

MASTERLIST

#javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfic #javier pena imagine #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #narcos imagine #pedro pascal #reader x javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #agent javier peña #reader x agent javier pena #javier pena fluff

[spikeymarshmallows]

3, kleigo! for the kiss post! love your writing

I AM SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER.

And thank you to @unrememberedskies for existing.

kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s

For this thingo

"What are we thinking this morning? Waffles? Eggs? No, I don't feel like eggs." Klaus surveyed the contents of the fridge with a frown. There was so much green stuff.

This is what he got for going away again.

This happened every time. His work would take him away for a few weeks, he'd explore the world, eat amazing cuisines, set up new projects here, finish them there—and then he'd return and find Diego had, once again, filled their kitchen with innumerable amounts of fresh food.

What was wrong with toaster waffles?!

He stood back and rested a hand on his hip as, humming his displeasure as he took it all in.

"Fiiiine," he groused, grabbing a few things and placing them on the counter behind him. He knew how to make some of the smoothies that Diego liked. He'd just been hoping to make something a little more… well, something a little more.

He'd woken around 2, and even though he couldn't sleep, he lay there, enjoying the feeling of Diego's leg thrown over his, the warmth that emanated from him. He'd grabbed his eReader sometime after 3, and had read by its dim backlight for a few hours before finally going to shower and generally try to fill his time until Diego woke.

It probably wasn't good for the jet lag, but none of the tips for getting over jet lag had ever helped him anyway.

Diego was still asleep, which was perfectly normal, given the early hour. Klaus' body clock was still on Dublin time, and the only reason he'd managed the few hours sleep he did was because Diego had fucked him senseless. Diego was good like that—selfless, really. He always made sure to fuck Klaus until he was so exhausted he couldn't help but sleep after, and it was probably the most effective thing he could do for his jet lag now that he thought about it.

He grinned to himself.

Klaus didn't even have it in him to pretend to be grumpy about the food available to him; he was just so happy to be home. He loved his job. He really, truly did. But there was something special about being home again.

He hummed to himself. Sitting on the counter across from him, Ben rolled his eyes. Ben hated the song. Klaus grinned and hummed it with a little more enthusiasm.

"Not exactly what I had in mind when I figured I'd bring Di breakfast in bed, but, I suppose it'll have to do." He started carefully slicing up various fruits. He left all the vegetables in the fridge; Klaus may have been feeling benevolent, but even he had standards. And breakfast smoothies did not deserve to be tainted with vegetables.

He danced along with the song in his head, singing under his breath, as he slowly filled the blender.

Fruit, almond milk… What else was there? Diego liked those chia seeds too. Okay, chia seeds. What else?

Oh shit, the ice. He forgot the ice.

He started the blender, wincing at the grating sound it made as it tore through everything. He'd been hoping that he wouldn't wake Diego up, but that was probably shot to shit now.

Well, that's what he got for not having the makings of pancakes available. Pancakes were a lot quieter.

"Oh! Protein powder!" Klaus cried, remembering at the last second. He scrambled through the cupboards, contemplating the different flavours before figuring the pink one was probably berry, and would go well in the smoothie. He measured out the protein powder, and flicked off the blender so he could pour it in. After examining the vibrantly coloured drink for a moment, he decided to add some extra milk.

Across the living room, the bedroom door opened, and a sleepy Diego appeared.

"Hey baby!" Klaus said cheerfully, turning the blender back on.

He realised a second too late that he'd forgotten to put the lid back on. Diego and Ben realised, of course, but Klaus got the message after it had covered him spectacularly. Klaus fumbled to turn the stupid blender off, and in doing so, turned it up higher before managing to get it off.

Diego and he stood, blinking at each other from across the space. The room was utterly silent, but for the very faint sound of traffic outside.

Neither of them said a word for what felt like a lifetime.

Some milk dripped down from curls that fell across Klaus' face—he really needed to trim those. There was smoothie everywhere. It was cold and wet through the satin kimono he'd thrown on, and there was some on his bare chest too. At least it wasn't on his underwear, he supposed? Wait, no. No. It was on his briefs too.

Ugh. This was going to be a pain in the ass to clean up.

Diego blinked a few more times, nodded once to himself, and then disappeared back into the bedroom.

"Fair enough!" Klaus called to the closed door.

He stared hopelessly at the mess around him. Did he start by cleaning himself up, or cleaning the space up?

The door to the bedroom opened again. Diego's face was a little wild, and he crossed the living space in a few large strides.

Klaus watched him, thrown. Diego didn't seem upset, at least, but…

Diego reached out and wiped some of the smoothie off Klaus' cheek, not speaking. He brushed some of Klaus' curls away from his face. His expression was unreadable. Klaus laughed awkwardly but leaned into the touch; what else was there to do?

The hand that had been on his cheek slid down his neck, across his shoulder, down his arm until Diego gently took his hand.

And then—

"Wait, what are you doing?" Klaus asked, inhaling sharply.

Diego looked up at him from one knee, a shaky smile on his face. There was a faint pillow crease against his cheek from where he'd been sleeping minutes earlier. His hair stuck at a thousand angles, and his t-shirt and boxers were wrinkled. And… Shit.

"Diego, no, I'm covered in smoothie and—" Klaus stopped, hand pressed over his mouth. Was this really happening?

Diego raised a sardonic eyebrow before his expression melted back into something that could only be described as blind adoration. "This w-was," he stopped, cleared his throat, and exhaled before he started again. "This was absolutely not how I planned to do this. I cannot believe I'm proposing like this either. I didn't really have a plan yet, but it was going to be romantic as shit because I know you love that, and god fucking knows I love you more than anything on this planet."

"Oh my god, I can't believe you're doing this while I'm covered in smoothie," Klaus tittered. He was shaking all over, and his breath was coming in a little shorter, a little sharper.

"I was gonna write a speech too, because you know I'm not good with words. So, I'm sorry I don't have a big, fancy speech all planned out. But." Diego shook his head a little, looking back down. He opened a little black box with his spare hand, but Klaus couldn't look away from Diego's face to take it in. "But… You're my everything. Always have been, always will be. And I want to spend a forever telling you what a fucking disaster you are, and much I love every single thing about you."

Klaus hadn't even realised his eyes were stinging, or that they were filling until a few fat tears rolled down his face.

"I hate you so much right now," Klaus laughed wetly. His chest felt like it was bursting open. His fingers in Diego's were shaking, but it wasn't like Diego was much better.

The nervousness in Diego's face was fading, and he was still looking at Klaus like he hung the fucking moon. And there was still milk dripping from Klaus' curls, and another tear fell down his face.

"I know," Diego said and grinned widely. "But in spite of that—will you marry me?"

Klaus nodded emphatically, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He didn't trust himself to speak this time, so for once he didn't try to.

Diego let Klaus' hand drop, and he drew the ring from it's box, and slipped it onto Klaus' finger. The metal was cool, and heavy, and when Klaus glanced down at it, tiny inlaid diamonds caught the light and sparkled. It was simple, and despite the diamonds, quite understated, and, fuck, it was absolutely perfect. Diego had chosen perfectly.

And then Diego was standing as Klaus grasped at his t-shirt, trying to bring them both as close as possible. Klaus kissed him hard, and deep, wrapping his arms around Diego's neck and trying to say without words everything he was feeling. Diego's arms snaked around his back and pulled Klaus in so tight that his body curved to fit Diego's shape.

He was barely aware of it, but they were both mumbling how much they loved each other against the others mouth, unable or unwilling to draw away long enough to actually verbalise it.

It was desperate, and wet, and hot, and Klaus had never been so disgustingly in love. Diego pushed the kimono off his shoulders, and Klaus was able to yank Diego's shirt off too. Diego crowded him against the counter, lifting him easily so that he was seated against it. Klaus wrapped his legs around Diego's waist, pawing at whichever parts of him he could reach.

"Oh my god," Klaus got out between kisses. "You asked me to marry you."

Diego laughed. He sounded as giddy as Klaus felt. "You said 'yes'."

Klaus laughed, tilting his head back so that Diego could kiss down his neck.

"Oh my god. I said 'yes'." He grabbed as much of Diego's hair as he could, and dragged him back in for another kiss. "Oh my god, we're going to get married."

"Oh my god," Diego teased, "do you ever shut up?"

"I thought you said you loved every single thing about me."

"I do. Doesn't mean I don't wish you'd shut up and let me kiss you."

"Oh, well, when you put it—"

Diego shut him up with another kiss, and Klaus had never been happier to have been silenced.

*

"Okay, but seriously, while I was covered in smoothie?" Klaus laughed some time later, rolling his head to the side so that he could look at Diego. The marble countertop was still cold against his back, but it was soothing on his heated skin.

Diego's breathing was only now beginning to steady too. Sunshine poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows and lit Diego from behind, making it look as if he was glowing.

Diego snorted a laugh and shrugged. He groaned with effort as he rolled onto his side and shifted so they were closer, as if they hadn't just been as close as two humans could possibly be. "I just. You were there, and you're such a fucking disaster, and such a fucking idiot, and I… I just knew. I love you so much. I had to. I had to do it right then."

Klaus narrowed his eyes at him and then lazily lifted his hand up so he could admire the ring properly. He hadn't had a chance to yet, and he was once again overwhelmed with the reminder of how well Diego knew him. The tiny diamonds caught the light and glittered beautifully.

Diego moved his head to rest against Klaus' shoulder, looking up at the ring before back at Klaus' face. Klaus lowered his hand and Diego twined their fingers together. He brought Klaus' hand to his mouth and kissed the ring. Klaus smiled as Diego then moved to kiss his nose before resting his head against Klaus' chest.

"I'm not going to tell everyone the circumstances under which this occurred," Klaus said. "You were very romantic. There were candles and flowers. And it was at a nice restaurant. Or in a park with hundreds of fairy lights. And I was wearing something cuter than my goddamn underwear and almond milk."

"Did I still fuck you on the kitchen counter afterwards?" Diego teased, smirking.

"Oh yes, that part of the story can stay." He glanced to his other side at the blender, and the mess that still needed cleaning up. He huffed and turned back to Diego, curling an arm around him.

They could clean up later.

#kliego #spikey writes

[t0ngue-tech]

All Yours | Seven

“’Was I not enough for you…?’

Seolhyun parted her lips but hesitated to say anything. She also dropped her head, possibly trying to get everything in her mind organized.

‘Yoongi, I’m so sorry.’ She said sadly.”

↠fluff, angst, universityAU↞

word count: 4.5k

↠series: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ↞

A/N: yall idk what’s gotten into me. i literally just uploaded a story and here i am with the update of all yours lmao. tbh ive also been working on this chapter for a while so tyj i finished it huhu. enjoy ^-^

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“Come on, Yoongi. Just text her.” You stood in front of your mirror and adjusted your hoodie.

From the moment you woke up, had a cup of coffee, took a shower, and changed into an outfit, Yoongi spent the entire time debating if he really wanted to text Seolhyun. You agreed to go with him to see her because it was his stipulation, but he was the one hesitating.

“You know what, maybe I don’t need closure. It’s all good.” Yoongi placed his phone on your nightstand and laid back down.

“Ugh. Yoongs.” You grumbled and strode over to sit beside him. “Sure you may not need closure, but I know deep down you want to talk about your feelings. You don’t deserve to be cheated on—nobody does. Please text her.”

Yoongi glared at you for a few seconds before he softened his eyes. He mumbled something along the lines of I hate it when you’re right and reached for his phone but took a detour to grab your hand first.

“So, you promise you’re going to come with me? You’re not going to flake out?” He kept his eyes on your fingers as you lazily grazed the back of his hand.

Could he get any more adorable?

“I promise.” You replied earnestly. “But I start work at three today, so keep that in mind.”

Yoongi squeezed your hand and locked eyes with you. Never in your life did you ever picture yourself to be in this position. He held your hands before, mainly to guide you around places when you were extremely drunk but nothing like this. Yoongi had a sweet look in his eye with a smile to match and you were so sure you were dreaming. Yoongi was perfect. Why would Seolhyun want to cheat on him in the first place?

“Okay. Now, go to class.” Yoongi lifted your hand and kissed it. Your cheeks flared a bit and you probably failed to hide the disappointment in him not kissing you on your lips instead.

“Fine. But go outside and take a walk,” you gave him your dorm key. “You need some sunlight.”

After listening to Yoongi’s bullshit excuse about how sunlight was never necessary for him in the first place, you left his side to slip on your sneakers.

Why can’t time just fast forward to later? I just want Yoongi and Seolhyun to meet already so it can all be over with and done. How am I supposed to even focus in class?!

“Wait.”

Yoongi’s voice broke your thoughts and you stood up from your floor. He scooped you by your waist to press your body against his before stealing a long kiss on your lips. You felt your entire body relax and you clutched onto his nape to support yourself.

“You may have more knowledge about people’s behaviors and shit, but I know you well enough that you were waiting for that, right?” Yoongi said with a smirk after breaking the kiss. Your face bloomed crimson and you playfully shoved him a few inches away from you.

“Bye, Yoongi.” You walked away from him with bliss coursing through you and just before you stepped out of your dorm, you caught the satisfied grin on Yoongi’s face.

↠↞

I will die in this developmental psychology class, I swear.

Time in your psychology class always ticked on like you had nothing else planned for the day. You jotted down chicken scratch notes, promising yourself to fix them up when you had time later; thank goodness your professor put up the lecture slides at 7pm on the same day of class. You began to mindlessly doodle at the bottom of your paper.

So many things could go wrong later.

Three stick figures were drawn at the bottom; one with a crude drawing of a beanie, one with hair just below its “shoulders”, and one with long hair blacked out with your pen. You drew scribbles of symbols around the drawing of the figure with long hair indicating how pissed off Seolhyun would be if she saw you two together.

Ugh. I can hear her voice now.

“Why did you bring her?”

“Unless you were cheating on me first!”

You scribbled all over the drawing and turned over the page.

The same stick figures were drawn at the top this time and instead of symbols, you drew tears coming from the figure with long hair and hearts around the beanie figure; Seolhyun would be in tears, apologizing and begging Yoongi for forgiveness and he would play right into her and fall in love all over again.

This time, you fiercely scribbled over the drawing.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Like clockwork, you drew the stick figures. Hearts were drawn around the beanie and medium haired figures while the last one had a giant X covering its face; Seolhyun is completely cut out of the picture and forced to watch how lovey-dovey you and Yoongi were.

This drawing caused your face to heat up a little. There was no way Yoongi would show any affection towards you in front of her because he wasn’t the type to purposely make matters worse.

One last time the figures were drawn back onto your paper and this time, you drew speech bubbles with squiggly lines inside that ended with periods and a few exclamation points. The most likely scenario would be a calm conversation with a few outbursts between Yoongi and Seolhyun. The last thing anyone would want is making a huge scene in front of everyone—

Wait, I don’t even know where they’re meeting!

[10:32] You: hey, where are you two going to have this conversation anyway??????????

Yoongi’s reply came through like lightning.

[10:33] Yoongz: You know the benches outside of the library?

[10:33] Yoongz: There.

Great. We’re going to be in public…

His texts didn’t stop there.

[10:35] Yoongz: I told her to meet me at 11:15 so that you have time to be here before she comes.

[10:35] Yoongz: I’ll be wearing the light brown coat you gave me for my birthday and the blue beanie you hate so much

[10:36] Yoongz: You’ll be able to find me pretty easily.

That damn beanie.

The mental image of Yoongi in the blue beanie made you snicker, but you quickly cleared your throat realizing you were in class laughing to yourself like an idiot.

[10:40] You: okay. i’ll see you then

[10:40] You: fuk that beanie doe omfg.

↠↞

“So you’re seriously going to be there? With Yoongi and Seolhyun? Possibly arguing in front of you? Right in front of your salad?!”

Walking to the library, you gave Hani a quick call to update her with everything that had happened since you told her about Seolhyun cheating on Yoongi.

“Yes, right in front of my salad.” You laughed. “To be honest, I’m kind of scared. Like why did Yoongi have to say he kissed me! Actually… I don’t know what would be worse, her knowing the truth or his lie.”

“Either way she’s going to raise hell, but if you need me, you call and I’ll come running!”

You smiled softly. Hani was serious in the most endearing way possible.

“I know—” Yoongi’s blue beanie stood out at a table underneath one of the large trees. “Yoongi’s there. I’ll call you later Hani or better yet, I work at three so you can come to the coffee shop anytime after that and I’ll update you on what happens.”

“Okay. Be safe. I love you!”

“I love you, too.”

You took a deep breath and approached Yoongi who had two cups of coffee and two sandwiches sitting in front of him. As much as you hated that damn beanie, he still looked as handsome as ever.

“Hi, Yoongs.” You smiled.

Yoongi instantly smiled at the sight of you. “Hey—no, sit by me.” He reached for your hand to stop you from sitting across from him and tugged you over to sit beside him instead.

The action startled you and almost made you lose your footing, but Yoongi supported you by the waist to let you sit down without injury.

“Th-Thanks.” You stuttered.

“Oh, here you go by the way.” He handed you a paper gift bag that he probably stole from your closet. “You left your work shirt and shoes. There’s also a water bottle in here because you need actual hydration and not just coffee swimming throughout your bloodstream.”

Everything he mentioned was sitting neatly inside the bag and your smile was impossible to hide. You’ve been nervous and jittery about meeting with Seolhyun that you completely forgot about your work clothes. Yoongi was a life saver.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You breathed.

“Of course. Now eat, you didn’t even have breakfast this morning.”

As you had brunch, you spent the time complaining to Yoongi about how developmental psychology makes you want to jab multiple pens in your eyes. He argued that you say that about every class you have and even flicked your forehead.

“You’re doing great though, so keep on keepin’ on.” Yoongi rubbed the spot he flicked with the pad of his thumb.

You felt the weight of your school work elevate at the touch of his finger. Yoongi had the power to relieve any stress that you had in the palm of his hand and it amazed you. Maybe this was just the effect of you being whipped for him for almost a year. It sounded pathetic, but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

“A-hem.”

Both you and Yoongi tore your eyes away from each other to find Seolhyun standing at the opposite side of the table with her arms folded across her chest. Her eyebrows were furrowed and daggers shot from her eyes right into your own. The aura that came off of her was no less than intimidating and you felt as if your soul left your body.

Fuck.

↠↞

“What is she doing here?!” Seolhyun barked as she took a seat.

“I asked her to come so just leave her be.” Yoongi spat.

You silently observed Seolhyun’s outfit; she wore a casual black dress that stopped above mid-thigh and had a deep v-neck line. A cream cardigan hugged her frame and she even made time to put on makeup and curl your hair. If your suspicions were correct, she dressed that way on purpose to use her looks to win back Yoongi somehow. Seolhyun was honestly gorgeous which made you nervous. What if it reeled him back in? 

She cleared her throat again and avoided eye contact with Yoongi. “Thank you for meeting with me.” Her voice grew softer and softer towards the end of her sentence and she fiddled with the ends of her hair. This gave off a vulnerable look, almost “cute”. 

“Okay.” Yoongi said sharply.

The tension in the air was suffocating and all you wanted to do was run away, but Yoongi kept his hand on your knee underneath the table to keep you at bay.

“So? Anything else you need to say?” Yoongi kept the same tone of voice, annoyed. He truly didn’t want to be here.

“Sigh. I’m sorry okay? God, can we just talk without you being mad at me?!” Seolhyun raised her voice a bit.

“Of course I’m mad! How the hell am I supposed to be feeling? You cheated on me!” Yoongi raised his voice as well and you were even more nervous. You three were sitting in public with students walking by and you were praying to God that everyone was just minding their own business.

“Y-You cheated on me too! You—!” She pointed at him. “—kissed her!” Her finger was now on you.

Yoongi furrowed his brows and squeezed your knee. “Alright, fine. I kissed her once and like I said, I knew I had to tell you because I was feeling so fucking guilty about what I did. You were my girlfriend, Seolhyun! I had to be honest with you.”

Seolhyun tightly pursed her lips together, probably stopping herself from saying anything else.

“How…” Yoongi breathed. “How long have you been…”

Your eyes softened at the sight of Yoongi faltering. He didn’t want to say it. You reached beneath the table to hold that had that was on top of your knee. Instantly, you watched his shoulders relax.

“Um…” Seolhyun chewed on her bottom lip and picked at the skin around her nails. “Just-Just once..”

Bullshit.

“Don’t you think Yoongi deserves a lot more honesty that?” You boldly questioned. Talking was never part of your agenda, but it’s true, he deserved to know the truth after tearing himself apart from agonizing over his self-worth.

“Excuse me?” Seolhyun stared you down and you couldn’t back down no matter how much you wanted to.

“I–I don’t think you’re telling him the truth.” You tried to sound confident, but your stutter gave it away.

Seolhyun scoffed and crossed her arms. “Who do you think you—”

“She’s right. I don’t think you’re telling me the truth either.” Yoongi interjected. “For Seung Ho to talk to y/n about our situation kind of shows how close you two really are.”

“My thoughts exactly.” You said softly.

Seolhyun aggressively scratched the back of her head. “Ugh. Two months!” She blurted out. “Two-fucking-months! There’s the truth! Happy now?”

Your eyes widened then turned to Yoongi who was looking in Seolhyun’s direction with an empty expression. After remaining quiet for about a minute, a low chuckle pushed past his lips.

“Is that why we’ve been fighting so much lately?” There were hints of both sadness and anger in his tone. “This was why you’ve been so short with me? You would cut our dates short—it was because you would rendezvous with Seung Ho?”

“Y-Yoongi.” You whispered and gently rubbed the back of his hand, trying to calm him down.

“Do you know what the fuck I’ve been going through because of this?! I continuously questioned what I was doing wrong—was I not making you happy anymore? Did I do something to piss you off? Was I not buying you enough flowers on the weekends? Altering my class schedule to match yours wasn’t enough? Skipping class to spend time with you? I talked my friends’ ears off trying to figure out why I didn’t seem important in your eyes anymore…” Yoongi kept his head down and squeezed your hand to the point where his nails could draw blood from your skin. “Was I not enough for you…?”

Seolhyun parted her lips but hesitated to say anything. She also dropped her head, possibly trying to get everything in her mind organized.

“Yoongi, I’m so sorry.” She said sadly.

For the first time in a while, she sounded genuine.

“You were enough for me, but I—I guess… I guess I was being selfish and I wanted more.” Seolhyun lifted her eyes in search of Yoongi’s but he still kept his head down.

“You could’ve told me.” Yoongi choked out. “You could’ve talked to me about how you were feeling and maybe—maybe things could’ve worked out.”

It was your turn to lower your head. This was truly an issue between Yoongi and Seolhyun. There was no reason for you to inject yourself into the conversation anymore.

“Is there any way we could work past this?” Seolhyun asked.

Yoongi finally met her eyes. “No. No way in hell.”

He fumbled with your hand to let go and reached into his pocket to pull out his keyring and wallet. He detached Seolhyun’s dorm key and pulled out a polaroid photo of her from inside his wallet. “Here. I don’t need these anymore.”

Yoongi reached back underneath the table in search of your hand and you stealthy met him halfway.

“Please. Just go, Seolhyun. We’re done here.” Yoongi said firmly.

Seolhyun sat there for a couple seconds and then reached forward to retrieve her belongings. As she stood up from the table, she kept her eyes on Yoongi hoping he would say something else, but he remained silent. Shortly after, Seolhyun took her leave without Yoongi sparing her a single glance.

↠↞

Even with the hustle and bustle of students walking all over campus, the world had never been so quiet. Yoongi had his head down, face buried in the crook of his elbow while still holding onto your hand. You weren’t sure when was the best time to speak, so you kept quiet waiting for him to break the silence first.

It almost physically hurt staring at Yoongi. He had been bottling up so many painful emotions to the point where it almost consumed him. He didn’t deserve to go through this.

“Y/n?” Yoongi finally spoke, but the rest of his sentence was muffled behind his coat sleeve.

“I-I’m sorry, Yoongi. I can’t really hear you.”

“Thank you for coming with me.” He turned his head and made heavy eye contact with you. “Saying all those things… I don’t think I would've been able to do it on my own, but you being here gave me strength to do so.”

His words caused a noticeable blush to form on your cheeks. He chuckled and sat up straight to tuck a few of your hairs behind your ears.

“I think you have enough time left to get to your next class from here. I’ll walk you.” Yoongi lifted you up by your arm and you almost didn’t want to go to class. All you wanted was to sit around and hold his hand all day. The thought of that made you blush even more and this made Yoongi laugh a little harder. “What’s the matter with you? Come on.”

Unfortunately, Yoongi didn’t hold your hand when he walked you to class. This was probably because it felt too soon to do so in public. It’s not like he and Seolhyun were the campus couple, but people might get the wrong idea if they knew they were dating.

After the whole thing with Yoongi and Seolhyun, it made it even harder for you to concentrate. Now that they were broken up, who knows if Yoongi still had anymore underlying feelings for her. They were together for a year, so there had to be some leftover right? Plus, Yoongi made a comment the other night about how he thought about why you kissed him and that he “figured it out.” This meant a whole new conversation, a whole new reason to be nervous.

Fucking great.

This was a conversation you weren’t looking forward to. You needed to prepare yourself somehow, but it seemed like no matter how much you could mentally prepare yourself, you still wouldn’t be ready. After knowing Yoongi for roughly a little over two years and falling for him like an idiot, never in your life did you imagine him finding out about how you felt about him.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t even a little happy. You kissed Yoongi, held his hand, and even shared a bed with him with your feelings unknowingly exposed in the air. It made you giddy; butterflies roaming around in your stomach, fighting the urge to smile whenever you thought about him. If only the circumstances were different, life would’ve been near perfect for you.

Class dragged on, notes were written down, doodles were drawn, and next thing you knew, you were tying your work apron around your waist.

“Where’s Yoongi? He didn’t walk you here?” Seokjin asked.

“Nah. His energy gauge was pretty much empty by the time he was done talking with Seolhyun so he decided to just nap for a few hours.”

“Okay, so, what’s the tea?” Seokjin stood near you, eagerly waiting for you to tell him all the juicy details.

You playfully shoved him away and walked over to the espresso machine. “I’m not saying anything until Hani gets here.”

“Aw, come on, y/n. She won’t be here till like five or something!”

You chuckled to yourself and continued to ignore all of Seokjin’s pleads for information.

The moment Hani walked through the coffee shop doors, the first words she shouted was “okay bitch, bring forth the tea!”—this was said with a shop full of students. You were immediately put on the spot, but Hani’s intentions meant well.

You made sure to include all details of the confrontation when you told Seokjin and Hani about it. You also made sure to keep your voice low because you weren’t sure who knew Seolhyun, Yoongi, or even Seung Ho. This wasn’t your story to tell, but both Hani and Seokjin were there from the beginning so it seemed fitting for them to know it all too.

Evening came just as quickly as your shift started. Hani didn’t mean to stay so late, but she got pretty invested in the situation between Seolhyun and Yoongi. Both you and Seokjin did his best to keep all of Hani’s reactions at bay, but you had to admit, it was entertaining. At least she was nice enough to help the coffee shop employees close up.

“Wouldn’t your knight in shining armor show up by now?” Hani joked. 

“You need to relax—oh, bye!” You chuckled and threatened her with a broomstick and waved two of your co-workers who were heading out.

“It’s true, y/n. He’s supposed to waltz in here and be like ‘my lady, I have arrived. Your chariot awaits.’” Seokjin pranced around the room and even bowed and took your hand in his.

“And by ‘chariot’, you mean his legs right? Because the dorms are within walking distance?” You laughed.

“Well, yes, b-but anyways let me finish,” Seokjin cleared his throat. “So your knight in shining armor swoops in—” he went from holding your hand to picking you up bridal style. “—picks you up and saves you from the dungeon aka the coffee shop! And then Yoongi says—”

“Seokjin, what in zakum’s name are you doing?”

At the mention of his name coming from behind him, Seokjin froze in his tracks and turned around to find Yoongi staring at him with a questionable look.

“I—uh—” Seokjin panicked, almost dropping you on the floor but he still managed to place you back on your feet. “Alrighty-roo, well, Hani—babe, shall we take our leave?”

All Hani could do was laugh until her stomach hurt and Seokjin dragged her out of the coffee shop by her hand; she laughed so much that she could barely properly say bye to you and Yoongi.

“Do I even want to know?” Yoongi asked hesitantly.

“No, you really don’t.”

Yoongi helped you flip up the chairs onto the table while you continued to sweep the floor. As you two cleaned up, you proceeded to tell him about your day and apologized for telling Seokjin and Hani what happened in the afternoon. He brushed it off because he also trusted them.

Unlike your busy day, Yoongi spent his entire day eating, sleeping, and watching netflix; he exaggerated that it was a packed schedule. He even mentioned that Seolhyun still tried to call and text him, but he ignored every single attempt.

“You know, I think she dressed up that way today to lure you back to her with her looks.” You confessed.

“Huh. You think so?” Yoongi walked behind the counter where you were wiping around the sink.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, I mean, it’s been pretty cold lately and she shows up in an outfit that could barely keep her warm. She curled her hair, put on makeup, like why is doing all of that necessary to meet up with you? It seems so—what?”

Yoongi was just staring at you with a smirk plastered on his face. “Were you worried that it was going to work?”

A blush bloomed on your cheeks. “N-No. I just think it was ridiculous, that’s all.”

He stepped closer and stood behind you, placing his hands on the metal countertop to cage you in between his arms.

“You know, you observe others pretty well but from my observations from knowing you, you kind of suck at lying.” Yoongi laughed and you forced a chuckle out. You weren’t going to even deny it.

From the counter, Yoongi lifted his hands to secure them around your waist, hugging you from behind. You made a few attempts to move around to clean the counter properly, but he remained.

“Yoongi, I have to clean.” You chuckled.

“Just—” He briefly let you go to spin you around so he could hug you from the front. “Five minutes. Let’s stay like this for five minutes, please.”

It was such a genuine request, how could you say no?

Yoongi was leaning into you with his face buried in the crook of your neck. You had your arms lazily slung around his shoulders and just listened to his faint breathing. The blonde tips of his hair tickled your nose a bit, so you gently slide your hand across his nape to brush down his hair. He hugged you tighter at your sudden action and sighed.

“You’re really going to touch me like that, y/n?” The teasing tone in his voice was enough to raise your temperature and cause a blush to appear on your cheeks.

“Y-Yoongi!” You tried to push him away, already feeling embarrassed, but he just continued to hold you.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Yoongi snickered. “It’s fine, keep touching my hair.”

You were still feeling embarrassed because that was the first time Yoongi used that tone of voice with you. Nonetheless, you listened and continued to stroke his hair. Thankfully he didn’t wear that awful beanie.

Yoongi didn’t say another word and every once in a while, he’d caress your back and readjust himself. Small sparks ignited at the simplest touch and for some reason you wanted to laugh. This was everything you wanted but it did confuse you as to how comfortable Yoongi was doing all of this to you. All you did was kiss him once and the next moment he’s acting as if you two were dating for years.

“Okay, I’m recharged. Continue your cleaning.” He emerged from your body and cupped your cheek. Even if you were the one embarrassed, Yoongi still had a hue of pink displayed at the tops of his cheeks.

For the next ten minutes, you swiftly cleaned up the stations and tossed out the garbage in the dumpster out back. Yoongi waited patiently and even gathered all of your things for you from the back room.

“So you’re opening tomorrow?” Yoongi asked whilst helping you adjust your hoodie.

“Sadly, yeah. So we can talk first then I’ll head straight to bed.”

“We can talk tomorrow, it’s fine. You need your rest.”

“B-But—”

Yoongi stole another kiss from you, probably to shut you up and it worked; it left you utterly speechless. You had to get used to this somehow.

“Tomorrow.” Yoongi whispered. “For now, let’s go home.”

Home?

There was no doubt that Yoongi was referring to your dorm as home since he stayed there the entire day. The idea of him considering your place as “home” gave you butterflies.

Home was a safe sanctuary. Home was a place where someone can easily unravel themselves to be at peace. Home was where the heart was and Yoongi was there with you.

“Yeah.” You blushed. “Let’s go home.”

-

-

-

♡ rae jagi

#bangtan boys #bts #bts scenarios #suga #suga scenarios #min yoongi #yoongi scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst #bts university au #suga angst #suga fluff #suga university au #she bacc again #hello hi #how u doin #all yours #20200122 #yoongz #rae writes

[retro-rezz-the-est]

The Right Alpha pt. 2 (Drew/Reader/Roman A/B/O)

Summary: A/B/O action with Drew and Ro accompanied by real time plot lmao. No smut this time, but plenty of angst and fluff.

(A/N: I wanted to get this out for my birthday and for the 500 followers milestone last week but since I’m a lazy piece of shit who’s brain doesn’t work properly, I forgot lol. So here it is! Thanks once again for 500+ and let’s hope that I haven’t lost my marbles due to VKM’s crap by the next milestone. God bless @writinglionqueen and @writing-reigns for being my betas and my support system throughout this. Love y’all both! ^3^)

Warnings: a lot of harassment/sexual harassment, brief flashbacks of the douchebag ex from the first part and Roman and Drew bc they should come with their own warning labels lmao

Word Count: 6728

Read part one here 

(Y/n): your name

                                                       ~~~~~

“You sure you don’t need anything tonight?” Roman asked.

“Trust me, Ro, I’ll be fine,” you said, holding your phone to your ear as you walked towards the backstage door. Even though Ro was still scheduled to be at tonight’s show, he still had yet to show up to the arena. Duffel in hand, you shouldered the door open and were met with the bustling sounds of the production team and the stagehands prepping for that night’s SmackDown Live taping. 

You heard him chuckle in your ear. “If you say so, baby girl. Love you.”

“Love you too, Big Dog.”

Your heart felt light as you ended the call, sighing to yourself and holding the phone to your chest. You’ve been floating on air since Roman and Drew confronted you in that hallway after RAW a few months ago and with the implementation of the new, albeit incredibly stupid, “wild card rule”, you were able to spend more time with your Alphas. For the first time since jumping ship to the blue brand thanks to the new rule, you felt…

...happy.

You were actually eager to come into work that day, mentally preparing for your tag match with Bayley against Alexa and Nikki Cross. Sporting one of the merch tees you stole from Ro and a pair of jean shorts, you tried to maneuver your way around everyone and make it to the women’s locker room in one piece. You tugged on it and bought the collar to your face, inhaling and smiling as the scent of your alpha washed over you.

You really have it bad, don’t you? you asked yourself, your thoughts taking over.

Yep, and I don’t mind one bit.

You didn’t notice the figure in front of you until you crashed into them nose-first, bashing your head against the back of theirs.

“Shit,” you said, pocketing your cell as you tried to speak with a mouth full of hair. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention!”

“It’s ok, girl. I shouldn’t have been standing around like an idiot,” the voice replied, their body turning to face you.

The now-revealed Smackdown Women’s Champ ran a hand through her long hair and smiled at you, taking her other hand off of her suitcase’s handle briefly to give you one of her iconic hugs. When you first transferred from the Monday show, the Beta was the first person to show you any sort of kindness. So, the two of you became fast friends, looking out for each other both in and out of the ring. “So, how’s my fave tag team partner doing?”

“I’m doing well, actually,” you replied as you started off on you way again, her trailing closely behind you. “SmackDown’s a lot more chill than Raw is, to be honest.”

She let out another short laugh. “You’re not wrong here, (Y/n), but the wild card rule keeps shaking everything up around here.”

“Ugh, tell me about it. If I keep having to see the same people getting pushed when there’s quality talent just sitting back here, I’m gonna pull my hair out.”

“I know, right? I’d love to face some of the other girls here, like Kairi or Ember,” she added, unzipping her dark grey hoodie.

You raised your brow at her suggestions and noted, “I would actually pay to see those matches happen.”

“Well, at least it hasn’t been all that bad lately. You still get to see your mates every day thanks to the rule,” she sighed in content and looked at you. “I’m literally so jealous of you. Two mates! How do you guys even function?”

You started to ramble on about your relationship with the two Superstars as the two of you continued to walk down to the locker rooms, but you soon noticed Bayley glancing at you funny.

“What?” you asked her, brushing yourself off. “Is there something on me? Is there something on my face?”

“Nah, there isn’t. I was just hoping that you were gonna get into the more… juicy details,” she cheekily wondered, a sly grin plastered on her face.

“B-Bayley! I’m not gonna gossip about my sex life here! There are three topics you don’t talk about at work: politics, religion, and sex!”

“Aww, come on, live a little!” the beta whined. “Just this one little thing? For me?”

She already knew the answer the moment she looked back at your face, pouting in defeat. She made a move for her pocket and paused, feeling around in it when her eyes went wide.

“What’s wrong, Bayley?”

Groaning, she answered, “My hair ties. I think I left them with that stagehand I bumped into when I got here about an hour ago. Can you wait for me here and watch my bag while I try to find them? I promise I won’t be gone for long.”

“Of course,” you responded as she handed her small suitcase over to you. She shouted a “thank you” in your direction as she ran off and turned a corner.

You dropped your duffel on top of her suitcase and pulled your phone back out and leaned up against the wall behind you, scrolling through your old texts as you drowned out the hustle and bustle around you. You opened your group chat with Drew and Ro, giggling at how they both complained about working with Shane and his behavior.

Reading through the messages, you didn’t notice the shadow that had just loomed over your body. A hand slapped the wall next to your head, but you didn’t want to look up. You didn’t want to look up because you already knew who it was.

Speak of the fucking devil.

“Hello, (Y/n).”

You could already hear the sickly sweet adoration dripping from his voice, but you still didn’t look at him when you responded. “What the hell do you want, Shane?”

“Woah there, Omega. Is that any way to speak to your boss? I feel offended,” he said, his voice still filled with endless loads of fakeness. You could smell the cockiness rolling off him in waves, so much so that you had to hold your breath whenever he was around. The hand on the wall was slowly moving closer to your head and you could hear it, and you hoped to whoever’s above that someone would do something about it.

But no one ever did.

You could feel your hands starting to tremble as he leaned closer to your face. “I was just gonna ask where your two big, bad Alphas were, sweetheart. There’s no harm in that.”

The weight of his leer felt like a brick pressing against your forehead and you kept getting whiffs of want her and mine that you sure as hell didn’t need today. The Alpha above you moved a piece of hair away from your face and chuckled at your hesitance, already familiar with it.

“Y-You should already know where Drew is, you prick. And Ro’s here as well. He’s just not… here… right now.”

Your wolf was going absolutely batshit at the sight of him, and the thought of him touching you made it even more ravenous.

Hit him! Tear into his smug face! Kick him in the balls! Tell him off! Do something already!

You could feel your teeth start to grow sharper as he chuckled again, his free hand descending to your waist while the other made its way to the back of your head. You could feel his gaze lingering in your cleavage, and you felt more exposed than before.

Why can’t he just leave me alone, for fuck’s sake?

“Oh, he’s not here right now? What a shame. Truly,” he said teasingly. Shane’s hands gripped you tighter as he pulled you closer to him, forcing you to look up at him and drop your phone to the floor with a clatter. His eyes were malicious, but they held in them a caring look so fake and plastic that it made you sick.

Your entire body shuddered as you looked into his empty eyes. “Yeah, he’s not here now. So, w-what do you want from me, S-Shane?”

It was still shocking how no one passing by saw him do this to you. It still shocked you how no one interfered with him tormenting you like this.

“You know what I want, (Y/n). Just say yes and I’ll go.”

Resisting the urge to scoff, you uttered, “The fucking answer’s still no and you know why.”

“Aww, come on, live a little!” he whined, mocking Bayley’s earlier comment and making you cringe. “I could show you a really fun time.”

He managed to pull you even closer to his chest and he leaned down to your ear. “Just picture it: a night out celebrating with me and Drew after beating your pathetic, waste of space mate to a pulp once again. And as the night grows even later, we could get more… intimate, if you will.”

Don’t say anything, you told your wolf despite the immediate pushback from it. Shane’s breath was near potent and you actually felt the need to eject a wave of vomit onto his Jordans. Keep quiet and don’t make this any worse for me.

“Plus, seeing as those two idiots haven’t even claimed you yet, I can show that Scottish dud how it’s really done.”

Gripping your hair, he yanked your head back and bashed your head on the wall, ogling at your unmarked neck while you hissed in pain. With your arms stuck against his body, his head fell and he drew his nose over the skin. “You’d love being mine, Omega. I’d treat you right, unlike those absolute brutes you have for mates.”

Don’t do anything because if you do, then you’ll bite his nose off and we’ll be out of a job.

“What do you say, (Y/n)? You wanna take this for a test drive?”

His wedding band started to dig into your side through your shirt and you yelped, telling him, “You shouldn’t be doing this, Shane. You’re married, right? And you have pups?”

He roared with laughter at your comment, and all you wanted to do in that moment was curl into a ball and hide with your mates at your side. He responded with a large grin, saying, “And what about it, sweetheart? She doesn’t have to know now, does she?”

Moving up to your jaw from your neck, his lips brushed against your cheek as he added, “And besides, you like knowing that, don’t you?”

Before he could move closer to your own mouth, his own phone rang and you thanked every deity in existence that he released you and moved away to take the call.

“We’ll finish this conversation later, (Y/n). I’ll see you around.”

Holding the phone to his ear, he brushed off his chest with his free hand and casually walked away, you looking bewildered as he did so. You felt nauseous and dirty, feeling your now sharpened nails digging into the palms of your hands as you curled them into fists.

You hated this.

You’ve hated it since he started this little “game” of his a month ago, and you sure as hell hate it now. You hated how easily he could corner you and make you feel as vulnerable and weak as a small child. And you couldn’t even do anything about it because he was your fucking boss!

Your wolf howled in anger, letting out kill and must tell mates with every other breath. Everything around you continued as normal, but you knew that it was far from it. Your eyes burned with the feeling of unfallen tears and you could feel your breath grow faint when a familiar voice reared in the background. 

“Hey, (Y/n)! I’m back! Sorry I took so long, the stagehand wasn’t in the spot where I had found them originally and I had to go searching for them again but that took ages-”

Bayley stopped her mini rant and took a good look at you, your entire attitude seeming to deflate since she had left originally.

“Hey, are you okay?” the Beta asked you. “You look...sick. Like you’ve just seen a ghost or something.”

Blinking the tears away, you forced a laugh out and moved your hands behind your back. “It’s fine. I’m just… just a little nervous about tonight. It’s my first time going against Alexa and I want my first match with her to go well.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be fi- oh my god, (Y/n)!)”

You quickly looked around, eyes wide with shock. “What? What happened? What is it?”

“Your hands!”

“My wha- oh.”

Drops of blood were currently dripping from your fists and onto the floor, making small puddles at your sides. You didn’t feel the bite of your nails digging into your skin, but you chuckled nervously and tried to hide them again. She grabbed your wrists in one hand and reached for her bag with the other.

“We have to get these cleaned and wrapped before out match tonight. Come on!” she told you, hoisting your bag onto her shoulder and dragging you by your wrist to the medical personnel with her free hand.

~~~~~

“Haha, take that, Bliss! You’re never getting your hands on this!” Bayley exclaimed at the blonde as the woman clutched her sides at the champ’s feet, you raising her arm above her head in victory. Moments later, Nikki slid into the ring as soon as you two slipped out of it.

Bayley gave you a hug as she started to make her way up the ramp with her title held high, Bliss and Cross limping back up a few minutes later. You, however, walked in the direction of the announce table where an empty chair and headset were waiting for you. You gave a brief greeting to Graves, Saxton and Philips before situating yourself next to the first man.

The last match of the night was a one-on-one bout between Ro and Shane and as always, Shane cockily walked out to the ring with Drew in tow to the sounds of boos from the crowd and his “best in the world” introduction. Drew grabbed two mics for him and Shane before they both climbed into the ring, looking like they absolutely owned the place. It would’ve made you smile if it weren’t for him being the lackey at the likes of Shane. 

Shane raised his to his mouth and was about to talk, but he was interrupted by the blaring sound of Roman’s theme. He came out with a smirk on his face and you could almost hear the thud of his boots as he stalked to the ring.

He threw you a wink when he made it to the ropes closest to you and you smiled, hearing the ref signal for the bell and seeing Shane immediately rush at him from behind. He threw his forearm into the back of Roman’s head and crippled him, making you gasp. Drew applauded at ringside and the two of you locked eyes.

You shuddered under his intense gaze and you quickly looked away just in time to see Shane stomping out Roman, your mate groaning as his heel connected with his chest. You glanced away from the match briefly to discuss other matters with your fellow commentators (minus Graves, of course) before turning back and seeing Shane glaring directly at you, the look in his eyes making feel nauseous as you wrap your arms around your torso.

He winked at you like Roman had, taking his time raking those eyes along your figure and Roman was quick to notice. The Samoan bared his teeth and growled as he began to let out his wolf and rose from the ring floor, charging at Shane and spearing his head into the ringpost he was closest to. As the grey-haired Alpha started to regain his senses again, he threw his chest back and howled with the rest of the Universe and speared Shane again. The match was over before you could even blink, and Roman quickly pinned the other Alpha to pick up the win.

Huh, Shane’s off his game tonight. Good, you thought as you heard the three-count and you stood to clap for your mate. Taking off your headset and thanking the three men at commentary, you made your way into the ring and took Roman’s arm to raise it.

You two quickly moved out of it and began walking up the ramp side by side, his arm thrown around your shoulders and your own wrapped around his waist. Glancing behind you, you saw the dirty look Shane threw you and you smiled internally at that, claiming it as a small victory over him.

He pulled you aside near some supply crates as you made it backstage, bringing you into his chest while you inhaled his familiar scent. It had momentarily calmed your nerves down, being there with him, but they were briskly replaced by a new feeling of dread when he moved your hands from around him and looked down at your bandaged hands.

“How’d this happen, Omega?” Roman asked, worry making his brows furrow. “Did you hurt yourself?”

He started to rub at where the skin of your palms would be as you answered him. “Yeah, I did. I was nervous my match and I didn’t notice my nails digging into my hands. Bayley bandaged me up well, so I should be fine.”

You and your own wolf felt bad for lying to him about them, but you didn’t need him going after Shane with a death wish in tow and getting fired because of it.

This is better, you assumed, seeing his eyes grow soft. It’s better for all of us.

“I’m just glad that you were able to pin Shane tonight,” You raised your hands to cup his face and he nuzzled himself into them, making you chuckle. “Lord knows he needs to be put in his place.”

Roman laughed as you said the last bit under your breath, squeezing your waist before lifting his hands to move yours from his face. “Speaking of Shane,” he questioned, looking down at you with concern in his warm brown eyes, “what was that wink all about during the match? Is there something you’re not telling me, baby girl?”

“What? No,” you scoffed, answering him quickly. “Shane’s just being his usual dickish self in order to get under your skin and make you mad. Nothing more.”

The quickness of your response made the Alpha quirk his brow for a second when he smelled hurt and shame wafting off of you but he brushed it off, agreeing with you. You rose onto your toes and planted a kiss to his cheek, saying, “Now, you wait for Drew here while I go and get our things ready, ok?”

You let go of him and began walking away, hearing him reply with a “yes ma’am” and pivoting on your heel to see him throw up a faux salute in your direction. His eyes lingered on you even as your figure grew smaller until you finally turned a corner.

Your heart wanted to fall out of your chest and flop around on the floor when he asked you about your hands, and even more so when he asked about Shane’s shitty excuse of a wink. But, you persisted, even though your wolf continued to berate you about the situation.

Lying will not make this better. Makes it worse for you and mates. You’ll see.

~~~~~

Since your tag match with Bayley against Bliss and Cross went over so well on SmackDown, you were told that you had to give a dual promo with the blonde Omega the next week on the red brand. 

You arrived to the arena dressed in a casual black tank with some skinny jeans, your sweater tied around your waist. Since the skin on your hands was starting to heal and you didn’t want to encounter Shane again, you decided to take the longer route to the locker room instead, using as many of the hallways as you could. He was always lingering somewhere on both shows and was always eager to find you, and you weren’t taking any chances.

A few minutes had passed since you’d seen anyone and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Turning down another empty hall, you felt a presence trailing behind you as you walked, but you paid it no mind. Then, a rough hand grasped your shoulder and spun you around.

“Thought you could run away from me, little Omega?”

How in the absolute hell?!

Your eyes went wide when he spun you around and pinned your arms to your sides. Shane moved in closer and you had the incredible urge to just raise your head and scratch his face up with your teeth.

“H-How did you find me?”

His laughter bounced off the concrete walls, making your bones vibrate. “I told you last week that we’d finish our conversation later. And to me, ‘later’ means ‘right fucking now’.”

He laughed again at your lack of words, your mouth slightly agape and hyperventilating. You were smart in that you didn’t ball your hands up as to not puncture the skin of your palms again, but you were damn near close to.

You could feel his hands sliding up your bare arms and situate themselves at the base of your neck, his thumbs drawing figures along your collarbone. All you could see was his smug grin, complete with eyes that were filled with absolutely zero remorse for what he was doing.

“Why do you do this to m-me, Shane? What did I do to you?”

This caught his attention. “You haven’t done anything yet, but you will.”

Huh?

“Like I said numerous times before, you’ll need a real Alpha like myself to show you the ropes. You’ll need me to claim you and show you how to be a good-”

He talked to you as if you were an incompetent child, and his hold on you grew tighter with every word. You began to struggle and try to get yourself out and away from him, but to no avail.

This hurts.

“- obedient -”

Pain.

“- little Omega for me, (Y/n).”

Struggling became useless as your breathing became quicker and quicker with each passing second and you shut your eyes tight, feeling them shift along with your teeth. His words were reminiscent of those from your ex-lover, and you couldn’t help but see blood red all over at the sound of them. 

All you could think of was how dirty your ex made you feel, putting you down constantly with his hurtful, disgusting actions and words, and he made you feel the exact same way that he had and you wanted him to. You had to physically hold yourself back from pouncing on him and dragging his face into the ground.

Get him now!

“Shane? Shane, where th’ fuck are ya? We’re on in thirty bloody minutes!”

Oh, thank the gods above.

Shane groaned and released you abruptly, causing you to stagger back. “Fucking hell, Drew.”

The large Scottish Alpha’s feet reverberated off the walls around you and he turned the corner closest to you two, looking around. He spotted you both and stomped over, clearly pissed off with Shane.

“What th’ hell, man?! Ya say you were gonna meet me here, an’ then you just rush out like a bat outta hell!”

Dressed in a simple white tee and jeans with a leather jacket on top, he curled his hands and growled, letting off more feral scents combined with his usual one. Through his frustration, he saw the glow of your shifting eyes and how much you were trembling, accompanied by the growing of your nails at your sides.

Eyes flickering between the two of you, he looked at the other Alpha and grimaced. “And what were ya doin’ all alone here with my mate, Shane? I thought I told ya she’s taken.”

The other man chuckled nervously as you cupped your neck, feeling the imprints from his fingers already beginning to bloom into small bruises.

“We weren’t doing anything, McIntyre. I just caught up with her and was just politely asking her a question about her new feud with Alexa. Isn’t that tight, (Y/n)?”

You nearly barfed at his piss poor attempt at being nice, but you decided to play along. “Yeah,” you murmured, willing your eyes to fade to their normal hue and your nails and teeth to shrink down. “We’re all good here.”

You feigned another laugh and quickly put your sweater on, zipping it up fully to keep your skin hidden. Drew looked as if he didn’t buy any of it but soon turned around, grabbing Shane by the collar and dragging him away.

“Woah, hey now, watch the shirt! This thing is worth more than your monthly salary!”

“Cut th’ shit,” the Scot grumbled, stomping away with him in tow. “We’re already running behind schedule and I don’t need t’ hear your daddy runnin’ his mouth at me again.”

And with that, the duo disappeared behind another wall, their voices fading into nothing while you stumbled back into the wall behind you, clutching your chest and feeling your heart race.

“Great,” you muttered, briskly walking in the opposite direction of them. “Hope the Glam Squad has enough concealer to cover these up.”

Your promo was one of the first segments of the night and you were finished with it relatively quickly, getting a fairly good reaction from the crowd when the other woman had come out to do her bit. You were glad everything went smoothly once you finished and when you finally got backstage, you started to make the journey back to get the remainder of your things and head back to the hotel.

You made it to the women’s locker room and shut the door, grabbing your sweater and bending down to stuff it into the bag you had Natalya bring for you. You got out your phone to text your mates and ask them when they were going to be finished when the door behind you creaked open, twin footfalls thudding on the floor. Their scent slowly filled the room surrounded you before you saw them and you relaxed your shoulders.

“Hey, are you guys finished for the night? I was gonna text you to see when you-”

You pivoted on your heel to face the two large Alphas with a grin on your face, Roman dressed in a long sleeved black tee and shorts and Drew in the outfit you saw him in earlier. They stared back at you intensely, Roman crossing his arms and Drew moving to go lock the door.

You shuddered under their intense glares, asking, “Is everything okay?”

Roman was the first one to speak, uncrossing his arms and walking over to you. He moved your bag and took your hand, sitting you down on the bench behind you as the Scot watched from the door.

“Me and Drew were talking earlier, and we feel like you’re hiding something from us, ‘mega.”

Oh, help me now.

“Me? Hiding something from you two?” you pondered, scoffing and chuckling anxiously. “Everything’s totally fine. Trust me.”

“And there it is again,” he shot back, “you’re doing that thing again. You’ve been acting skittish and dodging our questions for almost a month now. Why won’t you tell us what’s wrong?”

He was confused, and you could clearly see the hurt in his eyes when you looked into them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them yet.

Do it.

“I mean, was it something that we said? Something we did?”

“N-No, of course not, Ro! You know you’d never do anything to hurt me! You both wouldn’t!”

You sighed and took your hands out of his, placing them on your head as your eyes fell to your lap. It took everything in you not to burst out into a fiery mix or rage and tears. “Look, I already told you guys before. It’s noth-”

A loud bang brought you back from your stupor and you yelped, jumping out of your skin and directing your attention to the door. Drew stood there with the side of his fist against the door, and there was a crack emulating from the impact.

“Enough of this, (Y/n). We’re your Alphas, your mates. You’re supposed t’ tell us when something’s up. Why’re ya hidin’ from us?” he whispered, his voice cracking near the end.

Drew didn’t really express his more sentimental emotions outright but when he did, it absolutely crushed you. You could see your mates hurting - feel them hurting - and they were slowly chipping away at your walls. The silence after he spoke was deafening and you knew that if a pin fell then, you would hear it.

Every second felt like a minute and every minute felt like an eternity until you opened your mouth again.

“I don’t want you both to think that I’m a bad Omega for not saying something sooner.”

Your soft voice prompted Drew to move away from the door and kneel down to your height, placing both of his hands on your thigh. “Leannan (sweetheart), nothing ya say right now will make us ever think that. You’re our mate, and ya should be able to tell us anything plaguin’ ya.”

“We love you, (Y/n), and we do care,” Roman added, moving his hand to cup your cheek. “You don’t have to tell us everything if it’s too much, but at least give us something.”

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The fuse was lit.

Boom.

With that permission, you didn’t notice how quickly your body shifted into attack mode and you hastily stood, knocking your bag over.

“It’s fucking Shane’s fucking fault!” you barked, baring your teeth and nails to no one. “He keeps on stalking me and harassing me and bothering me and saying how much fucking better he’d be as my mate!”

You moved from the bench and began to pace the room, huffing and blocking out all outside noises as you continued to rant. “That little rich shitbag thinks he can do all of this over and over again with no consequence, and he thinks that he can just grab me and toss me around like I’m some useless thing! It makes me feel sick and dirty and… argh!”

The two Alphas jumped when you kicked a nearby locker, putting a dent in the shape of your foot in it. “I want to claw his eyes and scratch his smug stupid face! I hate it when he says that he’s gonna ‘show me the ropes’ and fucking claim me as his own when he’s got a whole wife and pups!”

You paused to catch your breath but you couldn’t stop the tears that were burning your eyes from falling. Your back hit the wall and you slid to the floor, cradling your face in your hands.

“I just… what did I do to deserve any of this?”

Your mates rushed to your sides as you cried, Drew holding you to his chest as you let the tears flow. You could feel Drew's heart beat faster and faster and you could feel Roman's heavy breathing on your neck.

The Samoan stood up and looked at your wrecked form, growling. You could see his eyes dilated and flash gold for a second before he turned away from you and unlocked the door, almost ripping it from its hinges as he stormed out with murder on his mind.

“Shane! Where the fuck are you, you bastard?! I’m gonna tear you apart!”

Oh fuck, you though, untangling yourself from Drew and getting up as quickly as you could to follow him. You two scrambled outside to find the wild Alpha and spotted him barreling through anyone who dared to get in his way as he continued to shout.

“Everyone get the hell out of my way! Where’s Shane?! I’m gonna fucking kill him!”

You ran after him, shoving past poor stagehands and other Superstars to get to your angered mate. Reaching him, you took his wrist and spun him around, seeing his eyes blown out to a full gold. His chest heaved with every harsh breath, and you could see veins popping out of his neck from how hard he was clenching his teeth.

“You see? This is why I didn’t tell you in the first place! I didn’t want you to go on a murder-happy fucking rampage and lose your damn job!”

“She’s got a point,” Drew added, firmly grasping Ro’s other wrist. “You need to think!”

He was having none of it. “He hurt my mate, our mate, and that waste of space needs to pay! I’ll find him and rip out his eyes myself.”

It scared you how aggressive he was when he meant it, but you stood your ground. “You’re not the only one who wants to kill that bag of human scum, Roman, but we do have to be smart about this.”

“We can deal with him next week,” you sighed. “Just… just calm down, please.”

No! Now! Get him now!

Drew nodded, agreeing with you and helping you to pull the other man back in the opposite go get the rest of your things even though he continued to try and escape. You smiled to yourself, though, at the thought of the things you were going to do to Vince’s son in the near future.

                                                          ~~~~~

For the next week, your two mates didn’t leave your side for a second, with Roman escorting you out to the ring for your match on SmackDown the next night and Drew acting as your personal bodyguard when the cameras weren’t rolling. They wouldn’t let anyone get near you, growling and baring their teeth at anyone who wasn’t a personal friend who dared to get in your personal space.

Monday came far too soon and the three of you arrived to the arena, game faces on as you waltzed in like your own little pack. They each had an arm around your waist with a hand in each of your back pockets, leering at everyone while you grinned.

Roman and Drew were already planned to have another in-ring bout prior to Extreme Rules, but they wanted to have you out for the main event as support. You already knew that Shane was going to be there, going ringside to cheer the Scotsman on and berate his opponent.

You all had your roles, you all had your positions. Now, it was just time to put it all into play.

As their match was the one to close out the night, you had to deal with hearing Shane’s long introduction when him and Drew went through the curtain. You watched them travel to the ring and you saw the Scottish Alpha’s hand twitch, eager to get his large hands on the man next to him.

Shane continued to rant before you and Roman cut him off, trekking down to the ring to meet him. He swiftly ducked under the ropes as Ro approached him but he smiled at you when he saw you, instantly making you sick to your stomach.

Gripping his elbow, you whispered, “You know what to do, right?”

“Of course I do, baby girl,” he replied, brushing you off. “I got this.”

He smirked at you, climbing up the steps and under the ropes. The bell rang and the match began with the two men locking into each other in the middle of the squared circle, Drew quickly getting Roman into a headlock and bringing him down to one knee.

He managed to shove the larger man off of him and into the ropes to throw his forearm into his clavicle and drop him down with a thud. Roman roared as a “Let’s go, Roman!” chant erupted from the crowds. You applauded him and Shane sneered, creeping closer to the ropes like a rat to freshly tossed food.

The match went on for several minutes, each filled with blows delivered and taken by both Superstars. Drew took a harsh Driveby from Ro on the edge of the ring and you were almost certain that he had been knocked out, had it been for the groan he made when he reached up to rub at his head.

It quickly turned to the Samoan being on the receiving end of most of the blows when Drew landed a nasty Glasgow Kiss to his skull, dropping him like a fly. He dragged the fallen wrestler to the middle of the ring, standing above him menacingly.

“Pin him! What are you doing, man? Just pin him already and get it over with!”

Shane’s loud voice could be heard above all else and you prayed that Roman would get up and walk it off like it was nothing. Instead, Drew chuckled and ducked out of the ring, walking around it to come face to face with the McMahon. As the older Alpha continued to go on and on, your mate threw the fastest right hook you’ve ever seen, making Shane plummet to the floor like a stone in water.

You looked around at the shocked faces of the commentators as well as various members of the WWE Universe, but you didn’t expect the roaring cheer that one move got.

He kneeled down to his level and proceeded to pumble the man further, driving fist after fist and hit after hit into him. You were full-on belly laughing at that point, noting how comical it was to see the once high and mighty Shane McMahon who had cornered you numerous times be put in a similar, vulnerable position.

It was beautiful.

Hearing the newfound commotion, Roman arose from his spot on the ring floor akin to the Undertaker and the crowd went wild once more. He got up and ran to the ropes behind him, bouncing back from them and diving over the set in front of him, Drew moving so he wouldn’t get hit.

Shane’s head struck the ramp below and began bleeding as his face and body grew battered and bruised. The two men towered above him and rained down blows and kicks galore, and you wished you had a phone with you to record the magic happening. They then hooked an arm under one of his and hoisted him up from the ground, looking at you gleefully. 

It was your time to shine, your chance to get your licks in.

“Go on, leannan!” Drew shouted, a wide, wicked smile plastered on his face. “Show this ugly bastard what’s for!”

Roman laughed alongside him. “Show ‘im your spitfire, Omega! Make him pay for what he did to you!”

Make him pay.

You roared, baring your sharpened teeth and charged at the silver-haired man, landing a solid dropkick to the middle of his chest. He fell with an “oof” and laid there like a limp ragdoll, but you weren’t going to let that deter you from having your own fun.

“If you ever-”

Punch.

“-ever-”

Another punch.

“-ever-”

One more for good measure.

“-think about touching me or talking useless crap about my mates again, I will fucking. End. You!”

With every word let out, you let out led to another hit to his body, your feet flying everywhere they could reach. After a solid five minutes of you three tossing him around and beating him to a pulp, you landed a fine tuned pointed-toe kick to his crotch. He crumbled to the ground, clutching his body as you and your mates looked on victoriously.

You could barely hear yourself think over the commotion going on around you, but you didn’t care. You got your payback. You all did and if he tries some shit like that again, you’ll be bound to pay him back again by a ten-fold.

You raced up the ramp to meet your lovers at the head, raising their arms to signal your win against Shane’s bullshit. You felt a weight being lifted off of your chest and you felt relieved for the first time in over a month.

Karma really is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?

                                                         ~~~~~

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[fluffandlove]

Pure Irony

Author’s note: First Klance fic for this blog! Very late, very random, but have two boys giggling like a bunch of highschoolers in an alley anyway  Thanks for 800 followers! 

Summary: Keith was going to hell for this, wasn’t he?

But if going to hell meant Lance practically pushing him against a cold wall with their faces barely three inches apart and his adorable, hushed laughter blessing his ears, then Keith was more than ready for it.

Word count: 1,650 

Irony was a funny thing.

“Shit!”

Before he could even utter a sound of protest, he was yanked into the nearest alley by Lance’s warm, yet rough hand. Honestly, Keith kind of wanted to make fun of him for this, but Lance slapped a hand over his mouth and not so subtly sneaked a peek around the corner.

Seriously, this guy would be the worst spy ever. It was a good thing Allura – that girl he’d been crushing on for three years – was a couple of feet away from them and talking to someone, totally oblivious still. Keith hadn’t had time to register who the other person was exactly, but it’d looked like a girl from one of their classes.  

Didn’t have to mean anything. It did to Lance, though.

“What do we do,” Lance hissed and, ah, pressed himself closer to Keith, lowering his hand when he continued, “She can’t see me. What if she thinks I’m stalking her?”

What. How did Lance’s mind even work.

“Right,” Keith deadpanned and resisted the urge to flick his ear. “You both live in the same dorm. We hang out almost every day. Why would she think that you’re stalking her?”

That didn’t seem to any effect on Lance as he curled around Keith again, craning his neck so he could take another look. “Okay, okay, shh. They’re talking. Still talking, laughing, yes I’m sure that that girl’s hilarious. Ugh, just-just turn around. Turn around and walk along, so we can, I dunno, make a one-eighty and get out of here.”

A sigh. “And where exactly do you plan on going? It’s getting late.”

“I’ll sleep on a bench in the park, it’s fine.”

Lance still wasn’t looking at him, his dark eyes totally focused on the other two and Keith couldn’t believe he was actually in this situation. Pressed against a brick wall by that one guy he’d been crushing on for about three years as well, which was fine, totally fine. Said guy’s cologne wasn’t exactly helping, though. Along with the fact that Lance’s face was so close to his own, like, he could feel the warmth of the other’s skin and ugh, Keith really hated his life right now.

Their cheeks were practically touching— anyway. It wasn’t like he could exactly blame Lance for this. He and Allura had been dancing around each other for those damn three years while Keith was on the other side of the room, casually pretending he didn’t mind Lance’s insane pining. And that his poor gay heart wasn’t suffering because of it.

It was usually easy to pretend that it wasn’t affecting him, at all. This particular situation, however, was a whole new level.  

“If she sees me, I might as well die of embarrass-ment!”

That last part turned into a squeak. Keith guessed that one of them had looked in their general direction because Lance, of all things, had buried his face in Keith’s neck.

Peachy.

Keith turned his head a little and tried to focus on their voices as a way to distract himself. They seemed neither nearer nor farther in his opinion. Probably hadn’t even noticed their presence. In fact, they were laughing again, so Lance was truly being paranoid about this.

“They’ll probably talk for another two hours,” Keith whispered and, interestingly, felt Lance shiver. “You’re not gonna die if she sees you, Lance. Let’s just go. ”

But Lance was flailing and squeezing his shoulders, shaking like crazy. Keith was so confused.

“… What?” he mumbled.

“Stoptalkingittickles.”

Right. Yeah, the back of Lance’s neck was really close to his lips, so that made sense.

Surely Keith was not an asshole. He wasn’t gonna take advantage of this. No, not at all—

Never mind. Yes, he was.

“Sorry, what was that?” Keith oh so innocently spoke, making his words even breathier than necessary and almost chuckled when Lance psychically cringed, digging his fingers into Keith’s shirt.

“Fuck you, oh my god,” Lance huffed and raised his head, probably as some sort of way to defend his sensitive neck, but there were more than enough openings.

Gloved hands snuck down to Lance’s waist, slipped under his jacket and threateningly stayed there, enjoying the full body shiver he managed to cause with that simple touch. Lance was glaring daggers at him, obviously trying to look intimidating, but it was pretty cute in Keith’s eyes.

Lance was literally pouting. “Keith, my dude, my man, think about what you’re doing.”

“I already am,” was the smug reply, accompanied by a small squeeze that made Lance jerk forward with a panicked gasp. “’s pretty fun if you ask me.”

Squeeze, squeeze.

“They’ll hear us!” Lance panted, his lips curled into a forced smile, hands still holding onto Keith’s arms for dear life.

“Better make sure they don’t, then.”

It was so mean. Maybe a little too mean. Still, creating a memory of Lance laughing breathlessly into the crook of his neck was gonna be worth it. Their position had been an absolute nightmare before and now he was able to enjoy every second of it.

Now he didn’t mind their proximity, or the lovely smell of Lance’s cologne, or the way his warm hands were gripping his upper arms. He could get used to Lance’s short huffs of giggles brushing over his collarbone, his body twitching along with his fingers, feeling the warmth of his skin because, well, he’d casually flicked up his shirt and went under it.

Yeah, there it was. A muffled shriek. He could feel Lance’s lips stretching into a wide grin.

At this point, Keith was shaking with silent laughter, too. His fingers roamed over Lance’s back, muscles twitching every time he brushed over another ticklish spot and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

“I hate y-you,” Lance groaned and jumped when Keith’s fingers hovered near his ribs. “I will get you back for this.”  

Instead of answering, Keith scribbled a bunch of random patterns over the other’s ribcage that made Lance go rigid before he hid his face in Keith’s chest, more soft laughter escaping. Allura and the other girl were still talking and didn’t appear to have noticed Keith being a huge dick, so he decided he could step up his game a little.

By leaning forward until his lips were close to Lance’s ear again and murmuring, “Sure you will.”

Poor Lance scrunched up his shoulders and waved his hands around like a ninja, which was so very amusing that Keith had to look away for a second to compose himself. His hands were still very much under Lance’s shirt, just chilling. Holding his waist like guy friends do.

Keith was going to hell for this, wasn’t he.

But if going to hell meant Lance practically pushing him against a cold wall with their faces barely three inches apart and his adorable, hushed laughter blessing his ears, then Keith was more than ready for it.

Yeah, it was bad. But also kind of fun. Lance was holding him so tightly, bubbly and giddy laughter continuously pouring out of him and Keith both loved and hated himself for being the one responsible for it.

“I’m dying,” Lance whined through his endless stream of giggles and laid his hands over Keith’s chest. Not holding him, but not pushing him away, either. All the while Keith ran his hands over his sides and ribs, barely grazing him, but it had the desired effect nonetheless. “The police will come for your sneaky ass.”

“I’ll go to jail for tickling you?”

Snicker. “Yes.”

Stupid, unbelievable Lance was mirroring his smirk. “Idiot.”

Apparently their voices had been loud enough to draw attention, because they heard footsteps. It was somehow possible for Lance to bring their bodies even closer and Keith instinctively tightened his grip on his hips.

“Thought I heard voices. Oh, hey, it’s Lance! And— Keith?”

Keith should’ve seen this coming. “Hi.”

“… It’s not what it looks like?” Lance added lamely, still curled up in Keith’s arms, face flushed beyond saving.

A few seconds passed in which Allura’s eyes darted back and forth between them before her pretty face broke into a knowing smile. “I’m sure it isn’t. Sorry for interrupting.”

The other girl politely stayed on the other side of the wall, so Keith couldn’t see her and he was thankful for that. Lance simply flashed her one of his dashing grins, clearly aware of the fact that he wasn’t gonna sweet-talk himself out of this one and Keith was starting to feel the guilt eating at him.

It had all been fun and games until now. Maybe he’d overstepped some boundaries. Damn.  

He nodded when Allura told them goodnight and left him and (his feelings for) Lance alone.

“We were spotted,” Keith awkwardly broke the silence after they were out of earshot.

Lance still hadn’t moved. “Yeah and it was totally your fault.”

“Pretty sure it was yours.”

It drew another small huff of laughter out of Lance who finally decided to stand up straight and, oh, Keith probably had to pull his hands back. They felt oddly cold and he could only watch as Lance fixed his shirt and jacket.

“Guess you were right.”

Blink, blink. “I was right?” Keith gaped at him.

“Yeah,” Lance flashed him a grin. “She saw me and I didn’t die. I’m a total survivor.”

Right. That.

“Told you,” Keith managed to grin back and followed him out of the alley until he fell into step beside him. They also fell into a silence but Lance did move closer to him, their shoulders and hands shyly touching. “You’re not… mad?”

“’course not.” Lance looked back at him, a soft smile on his face. “I’ll admit I was being a bit dramatic. You can make it up to me by coming over for a movie night.”

Irony. ‘Twas truly a funny thing. 

#voltron #klance #tickling #tickle fic #laith #lance mcclain #keith kogane #my fic #i'm really very rusty #it's just fluff #just boys being giggly in an alley #that's it that's the fic #I'll be taking my leave now

[theborahaecat]

makes me want

#2 - Taekook Drabbles - Picture Prompts

Relationship: Kim Taehyung/Jeon Jungkook Rating: T Words: 4279 Tags: University-AU, Fluff, more fluff, also fluff

“His arms, Jimin,” Taehyung groaned, sitting cross-legged on his bed, wrapped in a crumpled blanket, “His fucking arms.”

He buried his face in his hands wondering if there was a way to go a whole year back in time and tell himself to wait literally two seconds before walking into the lecture hall so he wouldn’t walk straight into the most gorgeous boy he’d ever seen. Or convince his mind not to notice his wide, startled doe eyes that made him feel a certain way, or his sharp jawline, soft cheeks, his coral red lips, or the way his front teeth, peeking out from under his upper lip along with his pale pink oversized hoodie made him look so adorable he wanted to cry.

Or at least to tell himself to get a fucking mind-to-mouth filter, and apologize like a normal person instead of staring blankly at him for a good five seconds before quietly booping his nose, whispering, “Bunny!”

Jimin, his roommate and best friend, had laughed his head off when Taehyung told him about it that night, quickly recognizing the boy as Jungkook, the new kid on their dance team. Jimin loved drama, and Taehyung hadn’t known if he should rejoice or curl up in a ball of embarrassment and die.

Taehyung sighed.

He had lost count of how many times he tried to talk to Jungkook ever since, asking for help he didn’t really need for an essay, or maybe offer some candy. Once he even read a whole book because he saw it on Jungkook’s desk, just to have something to talk to him about, only for Jungkook to flinch, stammer, look pointedly away, like every single time he’d tried before, and tell him politely, in that beautiful breathy voice, that he wasn’t sure about the essay himself (Liar. He got an A+.), that he didn’t like sweet things (Liar. He visited the ice cream place off campus far too often wearing those comfortable looking hoodies.), that he decided not to read the book after all (Liar. Taehyung had seen the bookmark travel down the pages until the end.)

At some point, Taehyung had tried to give up. Jungkook hated him anyway. He wasn’t going to keep bugging him and make it worse. It probably just wasn’t meant to be. Fate, destiny, all of that.

As the chilly breeze of spring turned into a leisurely warm summer, all of Taehyung’s efforts went downhill when, one exceptionally fine day, Jungkook walked into class wearing, not another oversized hoodie, but a white half-sleeved t-shirt revealing his beautiful, veiny forearms and biceps that flexed even as he simply fixed his hair, and Taehyung wanted to drop down to his knees.

Honestly, it wasn’t even about his major, all-consuming crush at this point. He wasn’t expecting Jungkook to suddenly realize that he ‘like’ liked Taehyung too. It just really hurt to be hated by someone he had come to care so much for. All he wanted was a fair chance to apologize, perhaps to have some mutually non-escapist conversation. He wouldn’t even dare to hope to be friends.

All he wanted was a fair chance to talk. Was that really too much to ask?

Taehyung shook his head, willing himself not to wallow in self-pity again.

“He’s so hot, Jimin,” Taehyung let out a dramatic sigh, pulling his blanket like a hood over his head, “I wanna bite him.”

Jimin nodded, not looking up from where he was typing furiously on his phone.

“Park! Ji! Min!” Taehyung tried again.

“I’m listening,” Jimin mumbled, frowning at the screen, clearly not paying attention.

“Jiminie is a meanie,” Taehyung pouted.

“Ugh, alright,” Jimin rolled his eyes, putting his phone down, “So, did you finally talk to your Jungkook?”

“My- Wha- talk to him?!” Taehyung spluttered, “He can’t even look at me without flinching. You know that.”

“Maybe,” Jimin began slowly, “maybe he’s just- I dunno- shy?”

“Yeah, right.” Taehyung scoffed, pulling his blanket over his head, “It’s been over half a year. He hates me, and I’m not going to make it worse.”

“Sure,” Jimin bit the insides of his lips to hold back a smirk, “You were saying…?”

“Oh god, Jimin,” Taehyung groaned, “He wears short-sleeved shirts every single goddamn day now, and ugh, his arms are just so fucking unfair. I just wanna suck his dick.”

“You should come and visit the studio,” Jimin laughed, “He sometimes takes his shirt off when he gets too sweaty.”

Taehyung’s mind decided to create a tempting image of a shirtless dancer Jungkook with dark eyes and sweat-damp hair, and almost whimpered, faceplanting onto his pillow.

Jimin laughed. The nerve.

“But you’re coming to the group study at Jin and Joon hyungs’ place tomorrow, right?” Jimin sat up on his bed, groping his desk blindly for his phone’s charger.

“Is he going?” Taehyung mumbled into his pillow.

“I guess,” Jimin scrolled through something on his phone, “Jin hyung said it’s the two of them, two of us, Jungkook, Hobi-hyung and Yoongi-hyung.”

“Hmm, I’ll stay back this time,” Taehyung responded sleepily.

“No, you won’t,” Jimin countered, walking over to his bed, “Remember how you clicked a picture of Jungkook when he fell asleep in class and I promised I wouldn’t tell him anything?”

Taehyung pulled the covers down to this nose so he could look at Jimin, now glaring down at him, eyes narrowed, “Ye-s…?”

“Maybe I should, y’know, reconsider that promise,” Jimin continued, mischief bright in his eyes, “What do you think?”

Taehyung stared. Jimin wouldn’t really do that. Even though he and Jungkook were close friends and on the same dance team, even though… Jimin wouldn’t really tell him…or would he?

“Fine,” Taehyung sighed, “What do you want?”

“Ungrateful brat,” Jimin began, exasperated, “I’m doing this for you and your future boyfriend’s happiness.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taehyung waived him off, impatiently, “What do you want from me?”

“There’s a bunch of summer sales going on, and I want you to come shopping with me tomorrow morning,” Jimin paused.

Taehyung blinked. That’s it? 

“You didn’t have to blackmail me for that, Jiminie,” Taehyung couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. They were best friends, right? Of course he’d go shopping with Jimin.

“Yeah, no. That’s not all. You’re going to try on all the clothes I ask you to. Then you’re going to let me buy you clothes of my choice.”

Taehyung stared.

“Also, we’re getting your hair dyed,” Jimin concluded.

“My h- I mean, not that I mind, but, like, why?”

“Because I said so,” Jimin responded pompously, with a suspicious smirk.

Great. Taehyung wondered briefly what colour Jungkook would like, before realizing it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like Jungkook would even look at him.

“Um. Question?” Taehyung sat up slowly, “What do you get from this?”

“I dunno,” Jimin sighed, “Inner peace?”

 “Blue,” Taehyung sighed, climbing the last flight of stairs to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, “I can’t believe you convinced me to dye my hair blue.”

“I can’t believe you let me,” Jimin snickered, ruffling Taehyung’s newly dyed hair.

“I wanna go home,” Taehyung mumbled glumly, elbowing Jimin in the ribs, “I look like a freak.”

“No, you don’t,” Jimin responded, firmly, “You look beautiful. Like a sexy little blue fairy. Trust me.”

Taehyung wanted to trust him. He really did, but all he felt was awkward in the loose, creamy-white top with the neck too wide for his introverted tastes, and light blue jeans that hugged the skin so tight that Taehyung felt naked. He scoffed. Trust Jimin to mess with him, more like.

“I’m serious. You look great,” Jimin turned to face Taehyung as they reached the front door, “Confidence, yeah? Oh, and if you don’t go and sit beside him, I’m telling everyone you painted a portrait of Jungkook for your acrylics project.”

“You wouldn’t,” Taehyung laughed as he rang the doorbell, “I’m your best friend and soulmate.”

“Try me, bish,” Jimin narrowed his eyes, smirking, and Taehyung would be lying if he said he wasn’t suddenly very nervous. God, why was he even friends with this miniature incarnation of Evil.

 The door clicked open to reveal a very annoyed Seokjin.

“You’re literally over an hour late,” Seokjin stated, exhaustion evident in his voice. Taehyung wondered if Namjoon had set their kitchen on fire again.

“Yea, well,” Jimin began, guiltily, gesturing to Taehyung’s hair and clothes, “We got a little caught up.”

Seokjin tilted his head with a slight frown, studying Taehyung’s new look before stepping aside with a curt nod, “Good work, Jimin-ah.”

Taehyung followed Jimin into the living room where Namjoon, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jungkook were sitting on the carpet around a long, low table, laughing.

Jungkook was wearing one of his loose, black t-shirts, smiling like the gorgeous angel bunny that he was. Taehyung didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to watch the way the Jungkook’s eyes lit up with he laughed at something Namjoon said. He didn’t want to notice the way muscles of his biceps flexed, the way the veins in his forearms popped when he erased something in this notebook. Taehyung had seen it all. He didn’t want to see the way Jungkook smiled at everyone but him.

So he looked away. Fixing his gaze on the empty spot beside Jungkook, completely missing the way Jungkook lost track of his words the moment Taehyung walked in. He missed the way Jungkook’s eyes widened, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs, the way his lips remained parted as he drew in a sharp breath, the unfinished sentence catching in his throat. He missed the way Jungkook tensed, fingers tightening around the eraser in his hand, swallowing hard as Taehyung stepped over a stray worksheet, making his way towards him.

“Jungkook?” Taehyung spoke up, tentatively. Jungkook snapped out of his daze and blinked slowly up at him from where he sat on the carpet a little away.

“Hi,” Jungkook breathed, quickly looking down at the worksheet on the floor. Taehyung grit his teeth. Great. So Jungkook wasn’t even going to look at him.

“Can I sit there?” Taehyung asked softly, willing his voice to stay steady as he pointed to the empty space beside Jungkook.

The tense silence in the room was uncharacteristic when the seven of them were in a single room. Honestly, fuck Jimin. He was probably having a good laugh while Taehyung messed up all over again with the guy he really, really liked.

Jungkook made an awkward sound, then cleared his throat. He still wasn’t looking up, but Taehyung could see that his ears were bright pink. Perfect. So Jungkook was polite little marshmallow, too embarrassed to actually ask Taehyung to fuck off. He spotted Jimin, silently laughing at his state. Maybe he should leave. This was making things worse and Taehyung felt like he might cry if Jungkook actually asked him to back off.

“S-sure,” Jungkook mumbled. Taehyung nearly jumped at the soft voice, heart stuttering, because how could anyone sound this precious, damn it?

Taehyung hesitated. He would never want to do anything that might make Jungkook uncomfortable. Now Jungkook was awkwardly scratching the back of his head, and all Taehyung wanted was to ruffle his hair.

But that was exactly what he was doing, wasn’t he? He was making Jungkook, sweet, considerate Jungkook uncomfortable, because now, Jungkook couldn’t ask him to sit somewhere else without being rude. This wouldn’t do.

“ I- I mean- I didn’t-” Taehyung stammered. God, why couldn’t he even talk normally around Jungkook, “You don’t have to- I mean, I- I’ll sit over there, yeah?” he made to move towards where Jimin was sitting by the kitchen door, furthest from Jungkook.

“ Wait- No- Please-” Jungkook scrambled forward and gripped the edge of Taehyung’s shirt, then quickly pulled his hand away as if it were burned. Taehyung’s heart was racing, because who allowed this kind of adorableness, as he tried not to focus on how quickly Jungkook had recoiled. Was Taehyung that revolting that Jungkook couldn’t even touch his shirt without flinching?

Taehyung turned to find Jungkook staring up at him, his eyes wide, shining suspiciously bright, as if they were full of galaxies, Taehyung’s stupid mind supplied, and Taehyung froze, idly wondering if his heart was just a speck of broken dust somewhere in there.

Jungkook drew in a shaky breath, “S- sorry- Just- I-” he swallowed thickly, “I want you to…sit with me…if that’s okay…” Jungkook gazed steadily up at Taehyung, even as his voice faded into a whisper, a light blush on his cheeks, and what was Taehyung supposed to say- No?

Taehyung told himself to get a fucking grip as he stepped over the mess of textbooks and highlighters on the floor. He willed his hands not to tremble as he settled down cross-legged beside Jungkook, making sure to maintain that solid two inch gap between them.

Taehyung nearly jumped out of his skin when Hoseok snorted from the other side of the table, facing them, shattering the icy tension.

“Alright, guys!” Namjoon, sitting on Jungkook’s other side, tapped the blunt end of a pencil on the table, “Can we get back to studying now?”

“We all know that differential calculus turns you on, Namjoon-ah” Seokjin sighed, patting Namjoon’s shoulder in fake sympathy, “But you could’ve let us watch the drama of the century for once.”

“God,” Yoongi wrinkled his nose, “Just get a room.”

Taehyung let out an exasperated sigh. Great. Now they were going to tease, and Jungkook would be more uncomfortable than ever. Can this evening just be done now?

“Hyung?” Taehyung held out his open math notebook to Namjoon, ignoring the way the side of his forearm brushed lightly over Jungkook’s, ignoring the way Jungkook froze at the touch, “I can’t get this one right.”

“Oh, hey, Jungkook?” Jimin called out over the quiet jumble of voices, sounding suspiciously overexcited, “You know this one. Why don’t you help Taetae out?”

“U-um,” Jungkook stammered, turning to look at Taehyung, those wide puppy eyes barely inches from his own, and Taehyung didn’t know if he wanted to gently ruffle his hair or kiss him, hard.

“Y-you don’t have to,” Taehyung managed, his mind a little fuzzy from how his knee was now in actual direct contact with Jungkook’s. Why did he always turn into a lovesick twelve-year-old when Jungkook was around?

“No, it’s- it’s okay,” Jungkook took a deep breath, “Which one is it?”

Over the next fifteen minutes, Jungkook spent tried to teach Taehyung differential calculus, and Taehyung tried so hard not to focus on the way Jungkook’s gorgeously thick thighs strained ever so subtly against the fabric of his track pants, or the way he looked up at Taehyung through his eyelashes between sentences, occasionally wetting his coral red lips, or how his voice was slightly breathier than what he remembered.

“...and then you use the negative of the inverted gradient and get the equation for the normal to the curve,” Jungkook concluded, looking up at Taehyung with a small smile. Taehyung wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him or if the light blush on Jungkook’s cheeks was real.

“...So, uh,” Jungkook continued, quickly looking back down at the book. Taehyung mentally smacked himself in the face. Had he seriously been staring at Jungkook throughout? God fucking damnit. Who even does that. Great. Now Jungkook knew for sure that he was a freak and a creep.

Taehyung leaned over to get a better look at Jungkook’s book, “Should I try that one again?”

Jungkook flinched so hard, he promptly dropped his pencil, notebook, and a half-full glass of orange juice on Taehyung.

Taehyung froze.  

Taehyung was a theatre kid and was plenty good at keeping up pretences. He had never once in all of one year called Jungkook out on avoiding him, lying to him, hating him, but perhaps everything has that limit.

Maybe it was the orange juice, maybe it was how Jungkook was looking like he’d rather be naked on stage than be sitting beside him, or maybe it was just a whole year of frustration that finally tipped over the line.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung began firmly, ignoring the tears burning at the back of his eyes, “You could’ve just told me you were uncomfortable with me sitting here.”

“Uncomfo- I don’t-” Jungkook looked almost comical, eyes wide, ears an embarrassed red, eyebrows scrunched, voice tight with panic as he held the empty glass shoulder high upside down.

“I would’ve moved,” Taehyung continued, nearly flinching at the cold edge in his own voice.

“W- wait, no,” Jungkook stammered softly, looking like he was barely two seconds from bursting into tears himself, “That’s not- I’m just really, really nervous,” Taehyung heart stuttered at how soft, how vulnerable Jungkook looked, “I’m sorry, I just- I didn’t want you to hate me even more.”

Taehyung blinked. He hate Jungkook?? He shook his head, trying to get his mind around the idea. As if. As if he weren’t halfway in love with him.

“Wai- Wh- I’m sorry, I- What?” Taehyung spluttered, wondering if this was another twisted dream, and if he was going to wake up and realize that the juice, now seeping through his top, was simply water that Jimin poured over him in his evil duty to wake him up, “But you hate me??”

“Why would I hate you?” Jungkook shook his head incredulously, “I like you.”

Taehyung stilled as he watched the realization, the beautiful blush, rising in Jungkook’s face. He swallowed thickly, willing his own cheeks to cool down because this had to be a dream, a trick, a something that would have Taehyung regretting that he believed this was reality.

Jungkook brought his hand to cover his face so quickly that he nearly slapped himself. Taehyung tried in vain to get his racing heart to calm the fuck down goddamnit when Jungkook bit down on his lip, peeking through the gap between his fingers, eyes dark, wide, bright, beautiful.

“U- um,” Jungkook stuttered, snapping Taehyung out of his daze.

“So like,” Taehyung’s voice was barely over a tight whisper, eyes burning with tears as his entire reality crumbled, “you don’t hate me?”

“No, just-” Jungkook chewed on his lip, rocking slightly back and forth before he lunged forward, grabbed Taehyung by the wrist and pulled him up, while Taehyung’s mind spun with a flurry of thoughts, most in disbelief, and some in awe and thirst of Jungkook’s trembling, pretty hands and his strong grip that would feel amazing pinning him down on the bed, or the wall, or the floor. Taehyung wasn’t too particular, “Let’s get you dry clothes.”

“Grab something from the left closet in the bedroom,” Seokjin called out as Taehyung followed Jungkook into the house.

“Sit anywhere,” Jungkook mumbled as they stepped into the bedroom, “I’ll find you something dry.”

Jungkook rummaged through the closet while Taehyung sat down on the floor by the edge of the bed, facing Jungkook’s back, wondering if the dim lights hid his blush at all.

“S-So, like,” Taehyung fidgeted with the edge of his drenched top, “You don’t hate me?”

“Why would I hate you?” Jungkook shook his head, incredulous. Taehyung scoffed. Was Jungkook really that oblivious, or did he just think Taehyung was dumb?

“Oh, I dunno,” Taehyung began, glaring at the back of Jungkook’s right shoulder, “You make it a point to keep a ten-foot distance from me, respond in monosyllables, don’t even look at me when I’m talking to you. See? Even right now, you’re facing away. What am I supposed to think?”

Jungkook froze. Taehyung shut his eyes. Great. Now Jungkook was going to tell him exactly why he hated Taehyung, and Taehyung’s eyes hurt from holding back tears.  

“Oh god,” Jungkook’s voice was soft and panicky, and Taehyung’s eyes snapped open.

“That’s- That’s not-” Jungkook’s eyes were wide, intense, desperate, “Taehyung, I swear-”

Taehyung managed not to flinch when Jungkook dropped to his knees in front of him, reaching wiping away a stray tear from his cheek. When had he even started crying? Why was he crying anyway? Stop fucking crying!

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook repeated, desperation creeping into his voice, “I just get really, really nervous.”

Taehyung looked away, focusing on anything but the gentleness in Jungkook’s gaze, the tenderness with which he wiped away Taehyung’s tears because this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

“When am I going to wake up?” Taehyung whispered into the empty space in the room.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook repeated, “I really do l-like you.”

Taehyung swallowed. Would the universe be cruel enough to put him through through this whole illusion, only to snatch it away when he woke up? Would he even remember this dream?

“I guess I didn’t want you to know that,” Jungkook’s voice was tight, “Didn’t want you to hate me for it.”

Taehyung drew in a sharp breath. Not once had Taehyung even imagined hating Jungkook.

“I’d never hate you,” Taehyung looked up, confused, “I don’t think I can ever hate you.”

“But- I don’t- I like you,” Jungkook repeated, a dark blush rising on his cheeks, softened in the dim light, “Taehyung, I really like you. Doesn’t that creep you out?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Taehyung insisted, fighting down the euphoria, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat every time Jungkook said he liked him, “I- u- um- I really like you too, Jungkook. Is that…okay?”

Jungkook blinked.

“Are you…sure?” Jungkook asked, quietly.

Taehyung laughed, his voice cracking. Was he sure he was in love with the love of his life?

“Yes, Jungkook,” Taehyung bit down on his lip, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“Noo, don’t do that,” Jungkook whined all at once, hiding his face with the back of his hand.

“Do what?” Taehyung frowned.

“Don’t bite your lip like that,” Jungkook elaborated, “It- It makes me want…stuff.”

Taehyung stared. God, if this was a dream, could he at least kiss Jeon Jungkook before he woke up? If this was a dream, was he allowed to let go?

“What sort of…stuff?” Taehyung asked quietly, letting himself run his hand up Jungkook’s arm, feeling his muscles tense under his touch. He watched as Jungkook swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat.

“K-kissing you? Maybe?” Jungkook stammered, his gaze flickering down to Taehyung’s lips

“Well, are you going to?” Taehyung asked, pretending like his voice wasn’t wavering, like his knees wouldn’t give out right about now if he were standing.

Jungkook’s gaze darted back up, eyes wide, cheeks flushed as he breathed a quiet, “Yeah,”

Taehyung closed his eyes, feeling Jungkook’s trembling fingers gently card through his hair. If this was a dream, now was about time to wake up. He drew in a sharp breath when Jungkook gently nudged the back of his head, pulling him in, stopping so close that he could feel Jungkook’s breath on his lips. If this was a dream, why was Jungkook hesitating? Just as Taehyung decided to open his eyes, He felt Jungkook’s lips brush against his own, then quickly pull away. If this was a dream, why were Jungkook’s lips so warm, slightly chapped against his own?

“That’ it?” Taehyung asked, raising an eyebrow, biting down on his lip, feeling like his heart was beating right out of his chest.

Jungkook laughed a short, breathless laugh, pulling Taehyung in for another kiss, firmer this time, still shy. Taehyung grabbed the collar of Jungkook’s shirt, pulling him closer, gasping into the kiss when Jungkook tightened his hold on Taehyung’s hair, shivering slightly when Jungkook licked into his mouth, feeling all sorts of hot at Jungkook soft groan when Taehyung sucked lightly on his tongue.

“Oh my fucking god, Taehyung!” Seokjin stood in the doorway, slamming his hand haphazardly on the switchboard until the room was lit like a theatre stage.

Jungkook leapt away from Taehyung, landing ungracefully on his ass, cheeks flushed, breathless.

“Ah- Jin-hyung,” Taehyung began awkwardly, “It’s not- We didn’t-”

“Yes!” Jimin cried as he ran into the room, holding up a half-eaten cookie, “You kissed!”

“I- We- I mean-” Jungkook stuttered, glancing nervously between Seokjin and Jimin.

“Oh, you guys kissed already?” Hoseok strolled into the room, shaking his head incredulously, “Now I owe Jimin a pizza, damn it.”

“You guys bet on us?” Taehyung huffed a laugh, “Seriously?”

“Well,” Yoongi sauntered in with a proud gummy smile, “we thought Jungkook would snap with the blue hair and tight jeans and stuff,”

“You knew?” Jungkook looked like a light pink baby bunny, “All of you?”

“Yeah, well,” Namjoon smiled as he wrapped his arm around Seokjin’s shoulders, “You weren’t exactly hiding anything with all the tsundere flirting.”

“Right,” Jungkook mumbled, shaking his head, now staring at Taehyung’s damn top, “You should take your top off, Taehyu-”

The other five collectively groaned, cutting Jungkook off.

“We’re still here, Jungkook!” Jimin exclaimed, laughing.

Jungkook’s ears were bright red, and Taehyung wasn’t faring much better.

“That’s not- I meant-” Jungkook stammered and Taehyung bit back his own laughter, “I meant because it’s wet and there are dry clothes-”

Taehyung burst into laughter, watching Jimin and Hoseok nearly in tears, clinging to each other on the floor from laughing so hard, Namjoon and Seokjin struggling to breathe between laughs, and Yoongi abandoning his grumpiness to join them.

Jungkook bit down on his lower lip, even his nose taking on a light pink. Taehyung wanted to bite that lip too.

“Stop that, Jungkook,” Taehyung called out over the laughter. Jungkook turned to him, confused. Taehyung tapped on his own lip, “It makes me want stuff too.”

Jungkook buried his face in his hand. Taehyung laughed. Adorable.

- - -

REQUESTS OPEN! for Taekook drabbles - Picture Prompts

#bts #fanfiction #bts fanfiction #taekook #vkook #kookv #taekook fanfiction #fanfic #bts fanfic #taekook fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #v #jk #jjk #kth #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jungkookie #taetae #tae #kook #taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #v fluff #v smut #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic

[beepbeeprichiellc]

Hard as Ice

It was cold inside the rink, colder than anticipated. Pulling at his jacket he averted the knowing glare of Beverly, her I told you so smirk getting on his very short nerves. The two teams were already on the ice, looking like a bunch of gorillas on skates. How they decided to partake in such a barbaric sport he would never know, all they did was punch and push and ugh, so stupid.

Richie was not amused with hockey.

Which is why it took Stan’s constant begging and Beverly’s promise for drinks afterward to get him to come. Ignoring their warnings of the chilly stadium he merely threw on a light jacket and sulked his way to the car. “Why are we here again?” He growled, walking up the stairs and taking a seat on the hardest bench ever. “This is hardly considered a sport.”

“We are here because Stan is a puck bunny.” Beverly explained.

“I am not!” The bundled up blonde shot back, “I promised Mike I would come and watch him play, that’s it. I’m not here because I wanna fuck the team!”

“You wanna fuck Mike.” Beverly corrected.

“Shut up!”

Usually Richie would get a real kick out of this, it was the perfect opportunity for some prime teasing but his bad mood kept his mouth sewn shut. He had met Mike on a few occasions, he seemed like a nice guy and Stan really did take a liking to him but he lost quite a few points when it was revealed that he was a hockey player. With a puffed out chest he invited all of them to their next game and Richie had told him flat out no. The other two however had different plans for their Friday night.

“There he is!” Stan cooed, pointing to a waving player on the ice. “Hey! Hi!”

“Oh my god, you are adorable.” Beverly jested, elbowing her friend in the elbow. “I have never seen you so smitten.”

“Smitten?” Richie scoffed, “What are you from the 1950?”

“Alright grumpy pants keep it down.” She retorted with a scoff, “Don’t let our bad blood with hockey ruin a good time You like Mike, you said it yourself and you aren’t giving him a good chance with this attitude.”

Richie only huffed, sulking like a child beside his two best fiends. It was true, he did have terrible experiences with hockey players. One hockey player in particular, and it was enough to turn his taste sour. Ever since he has cursed the meat head every time the opportunity arises. Which in this god forsaken town, was more often than not.

The game started, and he could feel the vibrant excitement that radiated off of the crowd. Richie zoned out for a while, that was until a grip came to his forearm and nails dug through his jacket making him yelp. “Jesus Bev, what the fuck?” He snapped, pulling his arm from her. “Why are you-”

“Mike, look at Mike!”

And Richie did, just in time to see him hit the ice thanks to a very dirty play from another player on the other team. It was enough to make the trashmouth himself yell out at the ref, who was clearly blind as a bat. Looking over he was surprised to see that Stan was still very calm, a smirk curling around the corner of his lips. “Why are you chill about this?” Richie asked, slapping his friends knee. “Your boy is getting killed out there!”

“Eddie will get him.”

“Eddie?” Richie repeated, turning at watching as a smallish figure slammed his entire body into the same player that had done dirty onto Mike, shoving him into the wall and creating a horrific noise. When he skated away the other player looked like he was going to explode, the referee still obvious to it all. This happened three more times, each hit more violent than the one before. Finally the player had enough, throwing his stick to the ground as well as his mitts. Eddie was more than ready, skating over to the man and tackling him to the ice right then and there.

“Eddie is the enforcer, keeps the other players honest.” Stan explained, the sound of the refs whistle crying out for the fight to stop but there was no slow down to Eddie’s punches, each one landing true. Surprisingly he took them as well as he dealt them out.  Eventually his own team came to pull him off, his voice ringing out as a warning.

“Touch my teammate again and you’ll have to leave in a stretcher.” He warned in a loud voice. “Got it?”

Eddie was sent to the penalty box, where he sat with a sideways smirk and bloody lower lip. The game continued on, but Richie couldn’t take his eyes off of the goon. There wasn’t anything special about him persay, in his bulky gear he looked like a duplicate rather than an original. Still, there was something about him that drew Richie in, some kind of dynamic that weighed Richie down to the spot. Eddie didn’t notice his admirer, that or didn’t care. Instead he turned his head and spat a clump of blood onto the box floor.

“Still dislike hockey?” Beverly asked, nudging him to gain some attention.

“Yes very much so.” Richie answered honestly, smiling the moment Eddie was released and immediately went to serve punishment to another rowdy player who had targeted another teammate.

“But I guess it’s not all bad.”

#it #it au #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #some stanlon #drabble #moodboard #moodboards #someone posted about eddie being a hockey player #and i just #got it #totally believeable #and awesome #a little ball of rage

[lushloki-blog]

Can’t take my eyes off of you

Can’t take my eyes off of you-Peter Parker x reader

A/N: I’ve been listening to this song nonstop. The song can be listened to here if you’re on desktop. (3:20 really made my heart clench) I would add a link for spotify (mobile) but they removed the song for some reason :( I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it.

lyrics in italics and bold

Title: Can’t take my eyes off of you

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: fluff overload!

Wordcount: 2236

Summary: Everyone knew that Peter was madly in love with you, gosh darn it did you make his heart flutter. Basically Peter showing you the love you deserve!

★ ━ ★ ━ ★ ━ ★ ━ ★ ━ ★ ━ ★ ━ ★ ━ ★ ━  ★ ━ ★ ━ ★ ━  ★ ━ ★ ━ ★

You always had a plan. Even if the plan wasn’t good, you had one. Organization was always key to success, is something you would tell yourself. Planning what to wear, how to study, planning your day, it was your cycle. You didn’t like to break your cycle because that was definitely not part of the plan. But of course the universe had other plans for you. Peter Parker and love were not apart of your plan. Your plan did not include late night calls talking on the phone, or staying up late at night when Spidey was out on patrol, middle of the day cuddles on his bed with your bodies intertwined. He might have not been apart of your plan, but you were sure as hell grateful for him.

You’re just too good to be true

Peter had never met such an understanding and compassionate person such as you. You understood him more than he did himself sometimes. You knew that he had a moral duty to Mr. Stark and the city that he promised himself to fulfill. You never once questioned where he was, you just greeted him with open arms and warm smile. You just always knew what to say, when patrol went good or bad, if he managed to save everybody, or if he just stepped on gum walking home. No matter what was going on in his crazy and hectic life, you were always his anchor to bring him back down to reality. He sometimes thought that he wouldn’t be able to be Spider-Man without you.

I can’t take my eyes off of you

The best mornings, according to Peter, were the ones where you would sleep over with him on a weekend, and he would open his eyes to your beautiful face. His heart would beat a hundred times per minute when he would take you all in. With your eyes closed, facing him, he would appreciate the beauty in front of him. From your head, down to your toes there was not one thing Peter would change about you. Just by looking at you, Peter felt such immense love and appreciation for your existence.

You’d be like heaven to touch

His soft fingertips would trail on your forehead, ever so lightly so he does not wake you, down between your eyes, to the beautiful curve of your nose, then down to your angelic perfect lips. He moved to cup your cheek and placed a soft peck on your delicate mouth. Your subconscious made you ever so slightly smile, even though you were asleep. God dammit you had him putty in your hand without even trying. The boyish smile that seemed to be permanently plastered on his face when he was with you made his cheeks hurt. 

I wanna hold you so much

At long last love has arrived 

And I thank God I’m alive

“This is Y/N, you know what to do.” Peter sighed as his call went straight to voicemail again. You had promised to come over but you were running half an hour late. It was a hot summer night in New York, and he really wanted you next to him as a light breeze washed over your warm bodies on his bed. He didn’t get to see you day today, and it didn’t help that patrol had been rough. Of course on the hottest possible day did everyone decide to be a criminal. Peter was so tired and really needed you next him right now. Not only was his day extremely long, but he couldn’t save someone today because he was too late. The officer to arrive first at the robbery did not wait for backup, and the robber shot him. Peter felt guilty for not being more efficient with his time.

 If only he had asked Karen for-”Ugh, I’m so sorry babe I took a nap and I didn’t wake up from my alarm.” You didn’t knock as you entered his room. You just saw him and you knew. Taking your shoes off you just laid down and dragged him down with you. Running your fingers through his floppy hair, you kissed his forehead as his arms snaked around your body, hiding his head in the crook of your neck. You kept your fingers running through his hair and kissed the top of his head again. “You did your absolute best Peter. That’s all this city could ever ask of you.” You whispered into his ear, making him shake his head. “No, I wasn’t fast enough. I didn’t use my time right. He won’t get to go home like to his family like I do. I just feel like if I were bet-” You rolled over to your side and looked him dead in the eyes stopping him mid sentence. 

“Peter Benjamin Parker, do not, and I mean do not ever feel like you are not good enough. You are out there risking yourself for the greater good. Your heart is made of gold Peter, and the world does not deserve it. You will always be more than enough because you’re just that amazing. You did what your fucking best and damn whoever says it’s not enough.” You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips then cupping his cheeks as you rested your forehead against his. “Don’t doubt yourself baby. You are absolutely amazing.” You whispered against his lips. He finally connected your lips with his. The kiss was slow, but full of love and passion that you could feel in your core. His hand would move to hold on to your hips as your hands moved up to his hair. He would be so lost without you by his side.

Pardon the way that I stare 

There’s nothing else to compare

The sight of you makes me weak

You had just finished getting ready for prom and you were looking at yourself in the mirror, when there was a knock at your front door. You ran down the stairs knowing it was Peter and his aunt. Your mother opened the door to reveal your dashing boyfriend with the same boyish smile he always had around you. You left him with his mouth slightly agape as you looked you up and down. His legs felt like jelly as soon as he saw you in that red dress. Your hair was beautifully curled but was pulled back in a half up half down do to frame your pretty face. The makeup you had was light and minimal except for the dramatic lip that matched your dress. Peter was at a loss for words on how extravagant you looked. A warm blush covered your cheeks as Peter just stared without saying a word. Your father cleared the silence as he let out a loud cough causing aunt May and your mom to smile to themselves. Peter was dragged out of his trance as he fumbles with his corsage. “I-wow-you just-amazing-woah.” Were the only words Peter could form as he walked towards you, making you giggle. “Right back at you Parker.” You smirked at him as it was his turn to blush. “It’s just, you really do look breathtakingly beautiful Y/N. Truly.” He grabbed onto your hands as he spoke, pulling you into a trance with him until your mom snapped a picture with the flash on pulling you back to reality. “Mom really?” You blinked repeatedly as the light was unexpected. “Oh shush Y/N. You two just look adorable. Don’t they?” Aunt May and your father agreed. You smiled shyly and looked back up at Peter. “Let’s take pictures yeah? I feel like it’s going to be a while until I see you you in a suit.” He kissed your cheek lovingly and smiled back. “Sure thing darling.” He felt like he had the most heavenly girlfriend ever. 

There are no words left to speak 

But if you feel like I feel

Please let me know this is real

Before you and peter were a couple, he would toss and turn on his bed, not being able to get you out of his mind. You were his only thought that would cloud his mind at some point during the day. He just wanted to tell you how he felt and have you feel the same way so he could hold your hand, kiss your forehead and lips, pull you close and call you his. But when he wanted to speak his mind went on override and just combusted on the spot. His tongue would fall numb and his brain would fall blank. Sometimes he would think that you felt the same way he did. Because you would give him the same looks that lasted a little too long, or would hold his hand for no reason as he walked you home sometimes. He swore you felt the same, but his negative thoughts would always win, making him think you only did it because you felt bad for not liking him back. But he couldn’t stand it any longer. You had your arm linked around his as you walked in comfortable silence when he stopped in his tracks and turned his body to look at you. “Y/N I need to tell you something.” The nervousness could be heard in his voice. “What is it Peter?.. Did you leave something at-” He could hear the gears in his turning on overdrive. It was now or never. “I like you. Like a lot. I like like you.” You opened your eyes wide and let go of his arm. You were at a loss of words as you looked at him all bug eyed. “You-you do?” Of course you would be shocked, you always thought that he liked MJ, they would see each more at school. “Heck yeah I do Y/N. How could I not? Do you not feel the same? You can’t tell me you can’t feel this connection that feels too real?” You couldn’t deny it, he was right. Grabbing his hands you kissed his cheek. “Always the drama queen.” You giggled. “But yes, Peter Parker, I feel it too.” You smile met your eyes, and from that moment on, your smile would continue to leave him gasping for air. 

I love you baby 

And if it’s quite alright 

I need you baby 

To warm a lonely night 

Even after being together as a couple for a while, Peter had never gotten tired of being a tangled mess with you in bed. Especially during the cold winters of New York when he had the perfect excuse to hold you as close as he wanted. He loved that there could be comfortable silence between the both of you as you both drew random figures on each other skin with your fingertips. The cold nights were perfect nights to Peter, and you could not convince him otherwise. 

The pressure of your body against his made him feel grounded and dizzy at the same time. With nothing but positive thoughts, he would lay his head on your stomach and your fingers would automatically play with his hair. It had been awhile since he had seen you, with you know, being disintegrated into dust. 

You would cry yourself to sleep sometimes hugging his pillow that you took from his room, pretending it was his scent that would lure you to sleep and not your migraine. Or that it was his arms keeping you warm and not your blanket. He would never leave you alone again. You both don’t know what you would do if you weren’t together again. It made your relationship be seen in a different light. Each moment would be appreciated 100 times more now. 

Oh pretty baby 

Don’t bring me down I pray 

Oh pretty baby 

Now that I found you stay 

Before either of you discovered how the other felt, Peter was like a lost puppy following you around. You had him wrapped around your little finger and he did not mind at all. Whether it was to help you with school or even just someone to rant to you both were there for each other. No matter what. You were there for Peter when he needed to rant about Spider-Man. To Peter they were one in the same, but not you. Peter was your best friend, your rock, your savior. Spider-Man was the savior of the city. No matter how you saw Spidey or Peter, it was lonely for him being Spider-Man. But not that he would ever complain because he is more than grateful, but you knew him better than he thought. You knew that he would often doubted himself and his ability to save the city. Some days would be harder than others for him, but you always knew the right thing to say. You always knew what he needed, and he would forever be grateful for your love and trust in him. It was because of the amount of support that you gave him he was able to wake up and be proud to call himself Spider-Man. Sometimes, Peter would lay awake at night alone in his bed thinking on where he would be without you. It hurt him to think of such things, but all he knew is that he never wanted you to leave his side. Eventually, the thought of you would lull him to sleep.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #fluff #peter x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fluff #songfic #marvel imagines #i love you 3000 #cant take my eyes off you #marvel x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfic #spider man #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfic #spiderman x reader

[itsallavengers]

stony, 5 please? :)

Wait a minute. Are you jealous?

There was someone hitting on Steve.

Which was woefully normal. Steve was... well, Steve. He drew every eye in the room as soon as he walked in. He was charming and kind and genuine. Literally anyone with eyes and a brain would want to take him home and keep him there. Luckily, Tony had (somehow, miraculously)  managed to get there first. 

Unluckily, however, that never seemed to stop people from trying their luck anyway. 

In all honesty, Tony couldn’t even blame them. Back in his youth, he probably would’ve tried to do the same sleazy thing. And this guy- the one brushing his shoulder against Steve’s and smiling up at him with the most obvious bedroom eyes in the entire fucking world- he seemed exactly like Tony when he’d been that age. Couldn’t have been over twenty-five, with tan skin and those stupid hipster glasses that no-one thought was cool anymore. Except Steve, who called them ‘neat’. 

Goddamn him and his adorable ass. 

They were having what appeared to be an avid conversation, Steve cradling his bottle of beer between two hands as he leaned against the bar and watched the other guy talk. Tony, to be quite honest, wasn’t even supposed to be at the gala at all. It was for a school-funding charity that Steve had fronted, and although Tony’d been invited as a guest, he’d been ridiculously busy and had had to send Steve out on his own. 

Of course, this was what happened as soon as everyone saw that Steve Rogers was missing a Tony Stark hanging off his arm. Obviously thought he was fair game. Fucking vultures.

Would Steve even want him to butt in at this point? Tony had come to drop off Steve’s speech which he’d somehow managed to leave in the workshop before heading out, and when he’d texted he’d implied that the event had been pretty boring- but that was twenty minutes ago, and he seemed to be having a good time now. With the younger, hotter version of Tony who had an ass that left practically nothing to the imagination in those jeans and who probably didn’t have nearly as much trauma and daddy issues-

Stop it, he warned himself with a huff. It had been three years, and Steve hadn’t left yet. He loved Tony. Tony was being ridiculous. Tony was-

...Watching as the man ‘spilled’ his drink all over Steve’s dress shirt and then used that as an excuse to put hands all over Tony’s fucking boyfriend, dammit, those were his pecs to touch, not that little overzealous highschooler who probably didn’t even have anything higher than a fucking bachelors in anything, the stupid little bastard.

Tony was walking over before his mind had even made the decision, body acting of its own accord. He pulled the notes out of his jacket, looking down at Steve’s familiar curly writing with a small smile before dropping his hand and hurrying down the stairs, moving through the crowds with practised ease. As he got closer, he heard what the kid was saying. He had a warm voice; smooth and low, and jheeze, Tony could just hear the suggestiveness in his tone, no one spoke like that normally and that was a fact.

“-I’m such a clutz, dammit, I remember this exact same thing happened when I was driving my new limited edition mustang, except with coffee. Ugh, I swear I’m good with my hands usually- in all senses of the word if you know what I mean,” the guy stopped and winked up at Steve, who, bless him, just smiled sort of awkwardly and then shook his head.

“It’s fine, honestly, I can- you don’t have to- I got this,” Steve raised his own hands in a signal for the guy to back up, which surprisingly, he did. He then began to scrub a few times at the stain on his chest, before sighing and just leaving it there, tossing the napkin onto the bar. “I don’t think there’s much else we can do about that for tonight.”

Tony could practically see that asshole gearing up to swoop in for the final move- some sort of ‘my place is five minutes away, wanna go clean up there?’ or some cheesy line like that- and so before he could, Tony’s mouth moved first.

“Hey babe- now I’m here, we can really get this party started.”

Steve and the kid both turned to him, opposing expressions falling over each of their faces at the same time- Steve with delight, and the little asshole with annoyance. 

“Tony,” Steve said warmly, opening up his arm on instinct and then letting Tony press himself up against Steve’s side. Usually, Tony probably would’ve just gone for a cheek kiss- but Tony was feeling petty, and sometimes, he just liked to let people know that he did not and would not ever share his toys, and so without hesitation he leaned up and curled his hand around Steve’s jaw, pulling him down for a scorching kiss. 

Of course, Steve went with it. Tony could feel his mild surprise, but that didn’t stop him from kissing back with vigor, his hands sliding down Tony’s body until landing on his ass and staying there for a few moments. It took at least three seconds for Steve to remember he was at a public function and hastily move them back up to more appropriate territories, and Tony felt himself grin. 

He eventually broke off, keeping his hands resting around Steve’s neck as he turned his head and looked at the other guy with a slick smile. “Hi,” he said, “I’m Tony. You might have heard of me before.”

The guy blinked, looking a little put-out for a moment before regaining his composure and then smiling back. “Lucas,” he responded, “it’s nice to meet you, Tony. Although I thought you weren’t attending tonight?”

“Well, life is full of surprises, isn’t it?” He said sweetly, before  turning back to the important person in the room and sliding Steve’s prompt cards into his breast pocket, shaking his head at the man fondly. “You’re a goddamn nightmare, you know that?” He said, leaning up to kiss him again. 

Steve smiled sheepishly. “I was distracted. I’m sorry for dragging you out here.”

Tony felt himself being glared at to his left, so he turned his head and then raised an eyebrow. “Hey, just out of interest- is your car the limited edition mustang that’s parked outside?”

A flash of surprise. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

Tony just shrugged, pointing a finger. “Oh, because it was getting toed when I came in. You might wanna go get it.”

It was a dick move, but then again, Tony was known for being a dick. Lucas’ face paled, and with a quick curse he scurried away, bumping Tony’s shoulder as he pushed through in order to stop his car from being toed by the invisible toe-truck that Tony had just made up.

Steve watched Tony as he pulled a face. “What a shame. He seemed like a nice guy.”

When Tony looked at Steve to see whether he agreed, Steve simply shrugged indifferently. “Yeah, he was cool. He’s one of the ambassadors for the charity- does a lot of good for the local kids apparently.”

Tony nodded. Yeah, Steve would’ve loved that. “Pretty, too,” he continued, unable to help himself, because he was a childish idiot who might as well have been writing ‘do you still like me best’ on a sticky note and sending it across the classroom.

Steve just looked at him funny. “Uh, if you say so,” he said, shrugging again.

Tony looked at him. “Just out of curiosity, how low did his wandering hands go when he was rubbing you down with that napkin? I’m thinking he was at least trying to make it to the abs, but your angle was better than mine-”

“Tony, what are you-” Steve paused, before his eyes widened a little and he looked down at him in what seemed to be amusement, “wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Tony huffed, flapping out a hand and letting his peaceful facade fall. “Of course I’m jealous, that damn twink had his hands all over you, and he’s hot, and he’s not got any gray hairs and he wears those stupid hipster glasses that you like and you didn’t seem to mind too much that he was flirting the pants off you at some charity event on a Sunday evening!”

Steve looked at him in bewilderment, blinking a few times. “He wasn’t flirting with me,” he said dumbly, but when Tony just stared, unimpressed at him, Steve’s eyes widened. “He was flirting with me?” He asked incredulously.

If it had been anyone else in the world, Tony would have been absolutely certain they were just trying to cover their asses. Because surely no-one could be that oblivious, right?

Well. Steve could. Hopeless-at-flirting, dense-as-a-brick, romantically constipated Steve had managed to mix up Tony’s blatant propositioning for friendly banter for about two years straight. He couldn’t see a come-on if it painted itself neon orange and danced naked in front of him.

God, Tony loved him so much it hurt.

He smiled weakly, resting his head into Steve’s shoulder. “When people make sexual innuendos about how good their handjob skills are to strangers, that’s a big sign that there’s flirting going on, yeah,” he explained in amusement.

Steve’s hand tightened around Tony’s waist nervously. “Oh,” he said, and Tony wasn’t looking at his face, but he could just sense the blush of embarrassment crawling up there, “oh, I had no idea- oh God, sorry Tony, I promise I wasn’t trying to encourage that, I wouldn’t, you know I-”

“Oh God, of course I know that you big lug, be quiet,” Tony huffed and smacked him lightly on the chest, looking up at him, “sorry. It’s just...” he gestured to himself with a bashful shrug, “issues,” he finished weakly, “lots of them. Manifesting in various shitty ways.”

Steve looked at him, and then frowned a little as he took Tony’s face in his hands. “Hey,” he said quietly, “you know that I’m not planning on leaving you for anyone any time soon, right?” A smile curved across his face. “No matter how young they might be or how cool their glasses are, or even if they don’t have a single grey hair on their body. I don’t love any of them.”

Tony looked down with a sigh. “That’s stupid of you,” he muttered, “maybe when I was in my twenties, I would’ve been better for you, but Jheeze, Steve, I’m on the wrong side of forty now, and then there’s everyone else you could have and I know it’s stupid but sometimes I just see them and think-” he broke off, shaking his head as he finished, “I’m just... so far from what you deserve, that’s all.”

When Steve didn’t say anything, Tony just sighed in dismay. God, why did he have to go and run his mouth and make everything about him? This had started off light-hearted, but of course, he had to go and make everything sad. “Fuck, just ignore me,” he muttered, smiling tightly and stepping away, “I’m only kidding around. Knock ‘em dead with your speech, Steve, you always do- I’ll probably be asleep when you get back but-”

He stopped speaking as Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him back in, kissing him hard and fast. Steve’s grip on his bicep was firm, and he pushed Tony against the bar in order to go at his mouth like they were in the bedroom rather than a charity event. Tony just rolled with it, holding back the urge to make an inappropriate noise in front of all the guests. Fuck, Steve was good at kissing. 

Then Steve broke away, and Tony looked up at him with a blank face, stunned into temporary silence.

“You’re such a goddamn idiot sometimes,” Steve told him with a shake of his head, “I’m a 1940′s loud-mouthed runt from Brooklyn who grew up with nothing more than ten dollars in his bank at any given moment, who fights crime in tights and doesn’t even know when someone’s blatantly trying to come onto him- yet I’ve managed to bag the world’s cleverest, most beautiful, funny and kind superhero in the entire world, and you think that you don’t deserve me?” 

Tony frowned. “They’re not tights,” he said eventually, “they’re graphene-lined kevlar bodysuits.”

Steve just looked at him, and then he smiled so warmly that Tony felt as if he might melt from it. The man leaned down, pressing the softest kiss against his cheek. “Tony, you are ridiculous,” he declared, “and I love you more than anything else in the whole world, okay? Grey hairs and everything. In fact, the silver fox look is kinda hot. So.” Steve just shrugged, winking down at Tony when he blinked in surprise. 

There were some days when Tony wondered how in God’s name he’d ever managed to find someone as perfect as Steve Rogers. Today was one of them. And the strangest thing about it was that Tony knew Steve wasn’t lying. He did think that Tony’s grey hairs were hot- in the same way he found it cute when Tony fell asleep on Steve on the couch and ended up drooling on his shoulder, or loved the crows feet around his eyes because they showed he was happy. 

Steve was just... perfect. 

“I love you,” Tony said, kissing his shoulder apologetically, “sorry for freaking out.”

“I love you too,” Steve responded, “sorry for being so oblivious to other people’s come-on’s.”

Tony grinned wryly, looking up at Steve as an idea popped into his head. “I think I know a way to potentially deter people doing that in the immediate future,” he told Steve solemnly, nodding his head.

-Which was how they found themselves in some conveniently placed cloak-room, making out like teenagers as Tony sucked a variety of dark hickeys into Steve’s neck, just under the collar, but visible to anyone if they were looking hard enough. 

He heard as Steve breathed hard above him, Adam's apple bobbing up and down under Tony’s mouth. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed, “sometimes I forget how nice love-bites feel.”

Tony nipped the spot he was working on with his teeth and felt as Steve gasped. “Will try and regularly remind you then,” he muttered, pressing Steve against the door and splaying his fingers out across Steve’s chest, “God, I love you,” he said, peppering kisses across the sharp line of Steve’s jaw.

Steve whimpered. He adored it when Tony kissed him there. “Love you too,” he breathed harshly, eyes clenched shut as he let his head drop back against the door, much to Tony’s delight. God, how bad he wanted to suck a hickey right up onto Steve’s throat, where Goddamn everyone could see it, and know where it had come from. 

Alas. The Charity hosts probably wouldn’t approve of Steve Rogers walking up on stage looking like he’d just been fucked in a bathroom stall- no matter how much Tony might like that idea.

“Okay, we gotta- we gotta stop,” Steve said eventually, although it sounded thoroughly pained, “my speech is in five minutes and I cannot come in my pants before I walk up there. That’s just so many levels of bad.”

Tony pouted, but ultimately ceased his attack on Steve’s neck. “I’ve done it before,” he said moodily, “more than once.”

“Well, I’m not quite as shameless as you,” Steve told him, before rubbing at his neck and grinning, “how do I look?”

Tony stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Steve’s collar was unbuttoned, and from his sternum to the beginning of his neck were a litany of purpley-pink marks, slowly darkening against his pale and flushed skin. He looked beautiful He looked like Tony’s.

It was ridiculously childish. 

It was also ridiculously hot.

 “You look like you’re currently unavailable to any potential suitors,” Tony said eventually, kissing one of the marks gently and feeling the hot skin underneath his mouth.

Steve met his eyes and smoothed out Tony’s hair. “Good,” he said, before looking down at his watch and sighing. “I’m also about five minutes late. I should’ve been in the wings getting the run-down by now. I really have to go.”

Tony nodded, stepping forward and buttoning Steve’s shirt back up properly, re-tying his tie until he looked just about presentable. “Alright,” he said, “and I really have to get back to my work. Pepper is going to kill me if I don’t finish this paperwork.”

Steve nodded, hand going backward and curling around the doorknob. “Right,” he said, breathing in once more and trying to pull his eyes away from Tony’s mouth, “speech. Okay. This’ll be fun. I will... we will continue this when I get home, okay?”

Tony just nodded wryly at Steve’s slightly whiny voice, patting him on the shoulder fondly. Yeah- he really had no reason to doubt a thing. Steve was still just as in love with him as he had been a year ago, or two or three or four. Tony still had it. And apparently, the grey hair just made it better, which was certainly a fact that Tony would be taking into consideration from now on.

He leaned up and kissed Steve one more time, before backing away. “Go get ‘em, soldier.”

#this got way too long jesus christ i get so cARRIED AWAY #itsallavengers writes #stevetony #Anonymous

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Qi Flows for Her

Chapter Eight

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC x Bucky Barnes  |  Word Count: 5425 Warnings: Violence, swearing, slight angst

Celine woke to find Peter lightly tapping away at his keyboard. “That doesn’t look like homework.”

He jumped and hit the escape button, shutting down the game he’d been playing. “I was done! Well, as far as I could,” he muttered.

She laughed softly and pushed the blanket away to sit up. “Friday? Increase lighting to normal levels.”

He smiled at her once the lights brightened. “You look better. Are you feeling better?”

“I am,” Celine nodded, rising from the sofa to wander over to the desk near the window and retrieve her phone.

“Good. You were out for a while.”

When she picked up her cell, Celine realized just how long awhile was. “Hmm, longer than planned. Let’s give Logan a call.”

“Really?” Peter squeaked.

“I did say we could call him so you could get more information.” She grinned at Peter when he squealed and jumped to his feet. Chuckling softly, Celine scrolled through her contacts until she found Wolfman and hit the call button.

It only rang once before he picked up. “What?”

“Well, hello to you too,” she snickered.

“Darlin’, you’ve got weird timing.”

“Why’s that?” she asked as someone banged on her door. “Hold on a second. Someone’s at the door.”

Peter beat her to it and opened it wide. “Oh! Oh, man!” he gasped, shock and excitement and a little awe rippling from him in waves.

Celine only shook her head as she hung up the phone. “What are you doing here, Logan?”

“What did you expect would happen after chuckin’ your guts all over the place? The Professor sent me to make sure things were going okay, and to make sure you were feeding as you should,” Logan muttered as he eyed Peter. “Who’s the kid?”

Celine crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “The kid is Peter, and he was the reason I was calling you. He has questions about the Devil’s Brigade. Be nice, Logan. He’s a good boy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Logan, Wolverine, sir.” Peter swallowed thickly and held out his hand.

Logan arched a brow but accepted, gripped Peter’s hand and pulled him closer. “You smell like…” he frowned, “something other than human.”

“I’m Spider-Man!” he squeaked, then slapped a hand to his mouth.

“Peter, it's fine. Logan’s good at keeping secrets,” Celine assure the boy while sending Logan a warning look.

“Mm,” Logan grunted. “That makes sense. Stronger than expected.” He released Peter’s hand to stride across the room, wrap his arms around Celine, and lift her off her feet to swing her in a circle. “Little girl! Missed you.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Wolfman! Put me down.”

“Excuse me, but I must insist you put Ms. Ena down,” Vision stated as he walked through the wall.

Logan’s claws sang when they erupted from his knuckles. “Who the fuck are you?”

“So cool,” Peter whispered.

“Logan,” Celine huffed. “You know damn well he’s Vision. Vis, I’m sorry about him. Everything is fine here.”

“I’m afraid it is not, Celine. Your friend broke in and bypassed all the tower’s security to get here.” Vision took another step forward. “He will need to come with me.”

“That won’t be necessary, Vision,” Steve said walking in the room through the still open door. “Logan. You could have come through the front door. Stark’s pissed about all the locks.”

“Rogers.” He tilted his head. “Where's the fun in that?” Logan mumbled. “And as you’re all sitting around twiddling your thumbs while Hank figures out what the fuck we’re dealing with, I thought I’d come check on our girl and see how she was doing. Seein’ how she hasn’t been feeding as she should, we’re going to be taking a walk.”

“Celine?” Steve very nearly growled. “Have you got something to tell me?”

Celine elbowed Logan in the ribs. “I was fine until earlier today.”

“What happened earlier?” Steve asked, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

“She got sick, Golden Boy. Happens when she lives in this writhing cesspool of negativity. Shit, I can smell it all over the place,” Logan growled.

Three sets of eyes landed on her. “It’s not that bad. Logan is overreacting. I had a private session with Tony today, and it dug up a lot of… mixed emotions.”

“She got sick. So sick Charles noticed. How come none of you did?” Logan demanded.

“I did!” Peter piped up, only to have Steve glare at him. “I mean… I-I came to talk to her about something and noticed she wasn’t feeling good, so I made tea… and just… sat with her.”

“Next time, Peter, if you notice someone isn’t well, you should be informing Bruce,” Steve scolded gently.

“Well, if that’s all? Me, the kid, and Celine are going to take a walk, have a coffee, and talk a little history,” Logan stated, then looked at Celine. “After she puts on some clothes. Wrecked my favourite damn shirt,” he grumbled, pulling on her sleeve.

Celine rolled her eyes. “We can just as easily go chat in the lounge, Logan. Or sit here and talk. Peter’s the one with the questions.” She had no desire to fight with him or have to explain about “house arrest" when it came to light she couldn't leave.

He frowned at her, his brows pulling together into a deep ‘V’ then cleared suddenly when Logan gave a grunt of agreement. “Better to go out later anyway.”

“Are we going out somewhere?” Wanda asked as she walked past Steve into the room, appearing unconcerned by Logan's claws. “Is there a reason we’re all gathered in Celine’s room?”

“Apparently, Celine’s not been feeling too good, but didn’t bother to tell anyone,” Steve grumbled levelling his less than pleased glare at her.

“Celine was sick?” Wanda gasped, then frowned.

“Ugh!” Celine threw up her hands and slapped Logan in the back of the head. “You bloody narc! I had one incident! One! Both you and Charles are overreacting. Look, I had an emotional and personal conversation with Tony. Occasionally the negative sticks, and I have to throw it up like cheap booze. It happens as an empath. Nothing to worry about.” Glaring at Logan, she poked him in the back of the fist. “Put those away before I show you what real claws look like.”

“Don't start with me, sweetheart. You ain't in no shape to be taking me on.” Logan shook his claws at her.

“Don't make me prove you wrong, Howlet,” Celine purred allowing her hair to curl before walking away. “Play nice with my teammates.”

***

Steve waited until her bedroom door shut before turning his focus to Logan. “How bad was it really?”

“Bad enough to draw the Professor's attention, so pretty fucking bad.”

“And how often should she be eating?” Steve asked.

“Twice a week, minimum. She can go a week max if she's had a real good feed. Charles wants an explanation. This is unacceptable. Living in this metal tower with all your... fluctuations, she should be feeding every two days. Why isn't she?”

Completely aware Logan had yet to put the claws away, Steve didn’t move from the doorway. “She didn't tell us it had to be so often.”

“Why would she have to? It takes no more than ten minutes for her to get what she needs. Less time than it takes me to eat breakfast.”

Peter flinched and looked at his feet. “House arrest.”

An angry growl rippled from Logan's chest. “The fuck did he just say?”

“He said house arrest, Logan. And if you're going to be a pussy about it, then go home.”

Logan turned on Celine so fast none of them could move in time to intercept him. In jeans and a cozy white sweater, she still looked ridiculously sexy to Steve’s mind.

“Why the fuck are you under house arrest!” he bellowed, marching across the room.

“Because of who I am. Or have you forgotten, Logan? Has it been so long since last we fought together you've forgotten my true face?” she asked, her words soft compared to her harsh smile.

He froze mid-step before taking the last one into her space, finally sheathing his claws. “That's no excuse. You're a better X-Men than nearly anyone I've worked with before. This was meant to be a collaboration, not a hostage taking!”

“He’s right.” They all looked to Tony standing in the doorway beside Steve. “Scruffy, good to see you again.”

“Watch it, Bub. You and I both know your fancy suit is no match for my claws,” Logan sneered.

Tony held up his hand. “You can’t fault us for being cautious. New powers coming in from a faction we've crossed less than friendly paths with? We needed to be sure she was above board. We’ve done that. Celine, I'm sorry we didn't trust you earlier.”

“I understand, Tony. I'm sure if it were one of you going to Mutant Central, the others would be cautious as well.” Celine nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Logan and Peter have some history to discuss.”

“But we are going out tonight, yes?” Wanda asked excitedly.

“Sounds good to me, Wands,” Tony smirked. “I'll get the VIPs going. You in, Scruffy?”

“Alliance or not, I will punch your teeth down your throat,” Logan growled. “I'm in.”

“Man!” Peter sighed. “Being underage sucks.”

“Doesn't last forever, kid,” Steve chuckled and patted Peter's shoulder. He cast a last glance at Celine before leaving, his heart heavy in his chest when she wouldn't look at him.

***

Most people wouldn't think it to look at him, but Logan had far more patience for kids than he let on. Case in point, he sat and let Peter lob question after question at him, and when Peter asked if his friend Ned could join them, Logan had given a grunt and a shrug.

Celine snickered softly in memory, for Ned had arrived panting and huffing from the elevator, having jogged from the subway, to stop and stare in fanboy awe at Logan.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Wolverine, sir,” he’d said, the excitement on him so bright in his aura Celine couldn't contain her giggle.

Which of course drew Ned’s attention. “Oh, my God…”

“And you didn't believe me,” Peter chuckled. “Ned, Celine. Celine, my best friend, Ned.”

“Didn't believe you about what, Peter?” she asked, already well aware of the adorable puppy crush.

“He said you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen,” Ned breathed. “He was right.”

Peter blushed bright red. “Be cool, man! Jeez!”

“Peter is very sweet to say so,” Celine smiled kindly. “But you should ask your questions of Logan before you must go home.”

While she hadn't left them completely alone, knowing Logan could get descriptive when left unsupervised, she’d moved into the kitchen area to peruse the shelves and begin tugging various ingredients and bowls from the cupboards.

“I hear we're going out tonight because of you.”

The hard voice only had Celine breathing out in resignation. “Actually, you can thank Logan for that. He's insisting, but then I am famished so I could use a bite.” She turned to face Natasha and smiled a baring of teeth which exposed the small fangs she usually kept hidden.

Natasha took a step back, disgust written on her face. “Keep your needs to yourself.”

“They won't be a problem anymore as Tony lifted my house arrest.”

“What?” she snapped. “What did you do to him?”

Celine rolled her eyes and turned back to her task. “Nothing. He made the decision all on his own.”

“I don't believe you,” she hissed.

“Problem?” Logan growled from the opposite doorway.

“No,” Celine stated firmly.

“Funny. Cause it kinda sounded like Red, there was accusing you of something. You got a problem with my girl, sweetheart?” he snarled.

“Logan, it's fine.” Celine’s look was a warning he knew well to heed.

“If she’s yours, maybe you should take her with you when you leave,” Nat said coldly.

Logan crossed the room in a leap Celine was unable to intercept and had Natasha pinned to the wall in a breath. Two of his three claws were embedded in the wall to either side of her neck, while the third slowly extended until the tip pressed to Natasha's throat.

“Now I know you've got a problem with Celine. But you see, red, you aren't dealing with no Avengers here. We aren't like you. We're a little more… animal than you're used to.” He inhaled deeply. “See, I can smell it on you beneath all that fear. The hatred wrapped in jealousy. Celine is beautiful, powerful, and better than you. Stronger, faster. I bet it just burns in your belly how much better she is.”

“Logan, that's enough,” Celine said, lacing her voice with power. His words weren’t going to win you any points with the woman.

“I don’t need your help!” Natasha snapped.

A flash of silver was all the warning Celine had before she plunged her knife into Logan’s shoulder. He grunted, growled, and let his middle claw press a little deeper.

“That was real, real stupid,” Logan said, his voice a deadly whisper.

Celine threw her hands out and wrapped him in threads of gold. She gave a hard jerk and threw Logan across the room, sending him tumbling over the kitchen island, scattering flour and dishes everywhere.

Natasha dropped into a crouch, her bloody knife still in her hand.

“Get out of here!” Celine snapped at her when Logan lurched to his feet with a roar.

“He's crazy!” Natasha shrieked.

“You don't know the half of it!” Logan growled.

When he launched himself over the island, Celine leapt to intercept him and sent the two of them crashing into the refrigerator as Peter and Ned filled the doorway.

“Logan! Don't make me knock your ass out!” Celine bellowed.

“Natasha, no!” Peter cried.

Celine’s head whipped up in time to take a glancing blow from a frying pan. It rang her bell and shattered the hold she had on her chi, sending it bursting into fireworks around her.

A shot of webbing went past her face when Peter sealed Natasha’s hand to the wall.

“Lo… Logan,” Celine murmured, her vision beginning to darken.

“Fuck! Celine!” He grabbed her as she folded in half.

“What the hell is going on?”

Steve’s voice came from a distance, resounding like it was in a barrel, but all Celine could see were Logan’s scared eyes.

“Feed!” he demanded.

“No…” she whimpered.

“Celine you're grey! Feed, goddammit!” He shook her hard.

“Rogue,” she whispered.

Logan closed his eyes, and his aura changed. The dark colours of anger, hatred, and rage softened as he forced his mind to think of Rogue, the woman he loved and lusted after.

Then he sealed his mouth to hers and Celine moaned as she fed. It was like ambrosia, so delicious, his emotions so strong, but when she tried to pull away, he grabbed her face.

“Don't you dare half-ass this, little girl. You know I'll be fine.”

Once more he sealed his mouth to hers and Celine fed another moment longer before forcing him to let her go. “It's enough. I swear.” Still, she clung to him for a moment, finding comfort in his arms, stability, and a sense of home.

“She gonna be alright?” Steve asked.

His voice was much closer, and Celine turned to see him, Bucky, and Bruce hovering near. Tony and Sam talked to Peter and Ned while Wanda worked on removing the webbing from Natasha’s arm with Vision standing sentry at her side.

Logan’s anger surged as he swiped his fingers through the blood on Celine’s temple. “Does this look like she's gonna be alright?”

“I was trying to knock your stupid ass out, not hers!” Natasha snapped.

Celine knew it was a lie but didn't say anything.

“There wouldn't have been a problem, to begin with, if you grew the fuck up instead of acting like a jealous teenager!” Logan barked.

“Enough!” Celine snapped, shoving from Logan’s arms to get to her feet. “Enough of this. Logan, go home. Tell Charles everything is fine and to stay out of it,” she growled emphatically.

“Little girl,” he snarled, his lip curling in anger.

Celine backed him into the fridge, her nose almost on his. “Don't make me make you, Logan. Thanks for the snack but get the fuck out of my way.”

“Celine,” he murmured, softer, gentler than before.

“My team, my problem,” she said then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Go home, please.”

He held her gaze for a long moment before giving a sharp nod. Then he turned hard eyes on Steve. “Captain, take better care of our girl, or you won't like what happens next.”

“Now that I know the truth of her needs, it won't happen again.”

Steve’s cold words might have made her flinch if Celine wasn't running high on Logan’s anger. She usually took on a few of Logan’s less desirable traits when she fed off him.

“Drink something,” she reminded Logan before turning to clean up the mess they'd made. “Water, not booze.”

She paid no attention to the fluctuations of concern in his aura when he stalked out past the others.

“Someone want to tell me why my kitchen looks like a war zone?” Tony snapped.

“I'm sure Natasha can explain what happened,” Celine said, refusing to play he said, she said with the woman who was already working to fabricate a convincing story.

“I'd rather hear it from you, dollface,” Bucky stated.

In a fit of pique, Celine sent her chi out in every direction, collected every shard of glass, every spec of flour, lifted the lid on the garbage can and slammed all in the rubbish bin. “Yes, well, be that as it may, I highly doubt my explanation of things will be any different from hers, and as I've now fed, there is little need for me to leave the tower tonight. So reinstate your house arrest if you wish, take the price of repairs from my wages, and leave me alone!”

She stalked out past Natasha, Wanda, and Vision, and headed for the roof.

It was all becoming too much.

***

“What the hell happened?” Steve demanded, turning on Natasha.

“Look, Celine and I were talking. Logan took offence to something he misinterpreted. He pinned me to the wall, I stabbed him to make him let me go, but it only made him madder. Celine ended up yanking him away and then got between us when he came at me a second time. I was trying to help when she moved, and I hit her instead.” Natasha shrugged. “I don’t think you should allow him back in here, Steve.”

Steve rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache brewing. “What did you say?”

“Pardon?” she blinked at him innocently.

He didn’t buy it. “What did you say to Celine that set off Logan?”

“I… I don’t even remember,” she sighed and held up her hands apologetically.

“You accused her of manipulating Mr. Stark into lifting her house arrest,” Peter said bitterly. “And you weren’t trying to assist anything! You were trying to hit Celine with that frying pan!”

Natasha shook her head. “I wasn’t, Peter. I swear.”

“I heard you! I was standing right there!” Peter pointed to the other side of the wall leading into the kitchen. “You’re always so mean to Celine. Mr. Howlet was right. You are jealous of her!”

“Peter, that’s enough,” Steve said, looking at the kid.

“No! I may just be a kid, but Celine has done nothing but be nice and try since she got her. You’ve been nothing but nasty and rude. She won’t even speak out against you when all of this,” he waved at the room, “happened because you walked in here and accused her again of being something she isn’t!”

“Parker!” Tony snapped. “That’s enough.”

Hurt flashed over Peter’s face. “Ned and I have homework.” Before anyone could stop them, the two boys turned around and left.

Steve could hear the ding for the elevator, announcing Peter and Ned were leaving the tower altogether. He knew Peter wasn’t fabricating a story. Peter didn’t lie, he was terrible at it if he tried, and there was that sixth sense of his. His “Spidey Sense” never let him down. If Peter was feeling something off with Natasha and Celine, then it needed further investigation.

“Thank you, Tony,” Natasha murmured.

Tony glowered at her. “Don’t thank me, Romanoff. Did you really accuse Celine of manipulating me?”

She blanched. “Well, I… it’s just, you let her out of her house arrest. I thought we were going to do more checking before that happened. And discuss it as a group.”

“I’m fine with it,” Sam stated, crossing his arms. “I didn't agree with it from the start.”

“Neither did I,” Wanda agreed, and Vision nodded.

“Logan expressed his displeasure with her not feeding properly. Containing her to the tower was making her sick, so whether we like it or not, we’re not reinstating it. She was starving, Natasha!”

“Then why didn’t she say something?” Nat snapped.

“Why should she have to?” Wanda asked. “If you or I are hungry, we go into the kitchen and eat. Her kitchen is out there, and we were keeping her from it. That is not fair! She shouldn’t have to ask permission to feed herself!”

“Wanda’s right,” Bucky agreed.

“So we let her loose on the unsuspecting public to just suck them dry?”

They all gaped at her in shock, each of them stunned by her ridiculous statement.

“What the fuck, Natalia?” Bucky muttered. “We all watched her feed off Logan, who stood up and walked out of here no problem. She’s not some serial killer out there draining people of life like some evil vampire!”

Something angry and dangerous flashed in Natasha’s eyes. “That you know of.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Tony marched forward to stand toe to toe with Natasha. “I don’t know why you’ve got such a stick up your ass about Celine, but it stops now. If you can’t work with her, fine, I will see you transferred to Fury for assignment, and you can work with SHIELD directly for a while until you pull it together.”

Natasha gasped. “You’d choose her over me? After everything we’ve been through?”

“It’s not a choice, Natasha!” Steve snapped. “But I agree with Tony. Whether you like it or not, we need the Professor and his people. We need the allies. This conflict between you and her needs to end! And if you can’t put on your big girl panties and suck it up, then you need to go.”

“Wow,” she breathed, staring at the two of them. “Wow, I can’t believe you.”

“Believe it,” Tony stated. “So, should I inform Fury you’re in need of a change of scenery?”

She lifted her chin high. “No. I won’t be going anywhere. As the rest of you are clearly so far under her spell you can’t see the truth for what it is; I’m needed here to make sure when you do come out of whatever this is there’s someone here for you to turn to.”

She looked them all over with pity, turned on her heel and walked away.

“Holy fuck,” Bucky muttered. “Did that just happen?”

“Wanda?” Steve looked her way. “What do you think?”

She shook her head. “There is so much turmoil in her mind. She honestly fears for the rest of us, but why she is so wary of Celine is hidden from me. It is as if she has a wall I cannot get through protecting all her secrets.”

“Nat was watching Celine in the library today,” Bucky muttered. “And when I tried to talk to Celine, she did her best to separate herself from me as quickly as possible.”

Wanda nodded. “Celine wants to be involved. She aches to find a place where people see and accept her for who she is, yet something holds her back, but her mind is much more closed than Natasha’s.”

“I feel like I’m stuck in a stage drama and only have half the script,” Tony grumbled.

“I think we all do,” Steve sighed, eyeing Tony. “What did you talk to Celine about that made her sick?”

“I made her sick?” Tony gasped.

“Logan said she was “living in a whirling cesspool of negativity.” I’d kind of like to know why he’d think that.” Steve crossed his arms and stared at Tony.

Tony stiffened. “What we spoke of was private!” he snapped. “I don’t have to explain-” he cut himself off and sighed as he lifted his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to discuss this publicly, but her empathy has helped me… understand a few things better than I did. I need time to work through some things, Steve.”

Surprised by his honesty, Steve nodded. “Understood. You know if you ever want to talk, Tony, I’d be happy to listen.”

He dragged his hand down his face. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Bruce, who’d yet to say anything, poked a finger at the massive dent in the fridge. “Least I didn’t do it this time.”

Sam chuckled and slung his arm around Bruce. “That is true.”

***

Celine sat on the edge of the roof and let her legs dangle. The colder air and quiet with the sounds of the city muffled by distance helped calm her mind. She’d closed herself off to the others, preferring not to feel what happened in the tower, and was caught by surprise when Bruce came over and sat beside her.

“You’re freaking me out. Could you at least sit with your legs on this side of the roof?” he grumbled, making Celine chuckle.

Still, she swung her feet over and sat beside Bruce. He was always interesting with his dual auras. Usually, the Hulk’s lived more in the background, but when Bruce’s counterpart came closer to the surface, the heavy feel of a second person was more present as it was now.

“So, they sent you to see if I was going to throw myself off the roof?” she asked a little sharply.

Alarm filled his face. “Would you?”

“No, Bruce. I would be more inclined to walk away and disappear if I thought it necessary.”

He nodded, sighing a little as he relaxed. “I thought maybe I’d come see if you’d talk to me. Tell me what’s going on with you and Nat.”

Celine closed her eyes and turned away. “There is nothing to tell.”

“Peter heard everything.”

She flinched but refused to speak.

“Look, Celine. I know Nat can be… hard. She’s had a life few would have been able to survive as intact as she has.”

A burst of laughter escaped Celine’s lips. “A hard life. Yes. If only I knew what that was like,” she said bitterly. “I like you, Bruce. You’re a peacemaker, and when peace is no longer an option, you are the hammer behind the final blow. But please, do not speak to me about Natasha’s hard life.”

“Then maybe you should talk to me about yours?”

She lifted her head and blinked at him. Celine had no idea what he saw in her eyes, but the Hulk was suddenly much closer to the surface. “Do I scare you, Bruce?”

“Not much scares me anymore.”

“Hm,” she nodded and looked away. “But I unsettle your Hulk.”

“He’s not mine.”

“Ah, and that is where you are wrong. He is more you than you know, and if harmony between yourselves is what you seek, then accepting that fact is your only option.”

“I thought we were going to talk about you?” Bruce muttered.

“You were going to try,” she smiled. A quinjet rose from below, hovered for a moment, and then took off. “Steve and Bucky?”

“Yeah. They got called out. Going to be gone awhile Stark said.”

Her heart clenched in fear for their safety and a little sadness at not getting to help Bucky tonight. She felt good after her impromptu dinner and knew she was in peak condition to work on his mind.

“They’ll be fine. No one works better together than Steve and Bucky. Those two are like twins,” Bruce assured her.

“They have complimentary auras. One easily blends with the other.”

“What’s that mean?” he asked. “There’s so little I understand about the, well, mystical nature of what you do.”

His curious mind made her smile. “Auras are unique to each of us. They tell no lies, only truth. You cannot hide the history of your life from those who can read and see auras. Steve and Bucky have lived singularly unique lives. What they went through during the war. How they both are men who have lived beyond their era. The love they share, the bond of such strong brotherhood. There is nothing Bucky would not do for Steve and vice versa.”

She held out her palms and allowed blue chi to appear in one and gold in the other. “When they are together, Steve’s aura will reach out to Bucky’s. Bucky’s will reach out to Steve, and they blend.” She brought her hands together, allowing blue chi to lick at gold until the edges of the colours mixed and combined and made green. “They mesh without overpowering each other. They are equals and very connected.”

“That’s… amazing,” Bruce murmured, his eyes wide as he watched her chi ripple and move.

“You have two,” Celine said allowing the chi to return to her hands.

“Two what?”

“Two auras. One for you, one for the Hulk, and they are even more blended than Steve and Bucky’s are. That is why I can say you are part of each other.”

“And why you don’t need me to tell you about Nat?”

Celine nodded. “I see people, Bruce. It is what I do. The good, the bad, the ugly.”

“And judge them as you see fit?”

There was no harshness, not condemnation, just curiosity. She knew he’d seen the recording from Stark’s suit when she’d judged the man on their first mission and nodded slowly. “Some would say it is not my place to judge. Others would say I should judge more harshly. But I am the guardian at the gate. I open the River of Life. It is my blessing and my curse. If not me, who?”

“You’re talking about the afterlife. What happens when a person dies? Styx is a Greek goddess, but what if that’s not what a person believes? What then?”

“The man who shot Peter was not Greek, yet when I tore open the way to the River of Life, his soul still went. I know only what I know, Bruce,” she murmured, holding up her hand when he made to ask another question. “I know there is a place, what name it holds is for each to decide. The Underworld. Hell. The Netherworld. Tartarus. Call it what you wish; each religion has their own version. But in that place, there are things there which would make even your Hulk afraid. So I open the way, hold back the darkness, make a choice, and send the soul on its journey. I have no knowledge of what happens when the doorway closes. Perhaps once the way is crossed, each returns to the place of torment known in their faith.”

“But how can you be so sure they deserve that fate?”

She looked at Bruce, allowed Styx to surface, and smiled when his eyes widened. “Did I not say I can see your life in your aura? I know, Bruce. I always know.”

“And me?” he whispered. “If you were to judge me?”

Celine raised her hand and touched his face, her talons lightly scratching on his stubble. Green had begun to fill his veins, but she soothed them both with a gentle sound. “You are worthy of life, Bruce, and so is the one who lives inside you.” She let her power fall away and patted his cheek.

He inhaled deeply and looked away. “I… I’ve…”

“Give yourself a chance, Bruce. You’re not the monster you think you are. I would know.” Getting to her feet, Celine tucked her hands in her pockets and headed for the stairs, leaving Bruce to his thoughts.

Next Chapter

#qi flows for her #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #x-men au #x-men fanfiction #crossover #steve rogers x ofc x bucky barnes

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, MINNIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of MIRANDA. Admin Kaitlin: Oh Minnie. God knows that I love Maeve, but you bring something to her that even I don't think I love her enough to ever understand how to put to paper. She is just... god the way you write her makes me want to say that is is made of pure light, that she has a soul that glows so brightly you could see it from the moon--but she is so much more than her goodness, so much more than her heart. You write a Maeve that is fierce in her softness, courageous in her love, and is so brutally herself that it just breaks my heart. I am so glad to have you back writing her. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Minnie

Age | 23… ugh I hate that I’m 23

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | I’ve been pretty active so far on Paola, and I hope to continue being so :) I usually do replies when I need a mental break from work or in general at home, and it’s been working out very well for me. I would give myself a 7/10.

Timezone | EST

Current/Past RP Accounts | I really don’t think that’s necessary at this point hehe

In Character

Character | Miranda.

What drew you to this character? | I’m here for a third try!! I love, adore, Maeve, she’s so sacred to me and I’ve tried to leave her alone but.. I miss her!! It’s still that pure goodness and undeniable strength that calls to me now, just like it did before. She has so much potential and she lives so far off the ground that her head is in the clouds. It’s easier to touch God this way — but it’s also much farther to fall. I just love her you guys know how much I love her idk how not to love her, she’s a part of me at this point.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

I never did get to write Maeve learning how her mother died, and I’m adamant about making it happen this time. Last time, I made Montagues the source of Maeve’s mother’s death - but I think this time, I’d like to make it the Capulets who intentionally manipulated the situation to recruit Philip into their ranks. I’d like her to try, so damn hard, to be accepted by the Capulets to please her father and to save them all… only to learn that they were the ones to destroy her and her family first, that she owes them nothing but revenge. Oh man, I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.

I’d also like to see Maeve intentionally dismantle Montague/Capulet animosity - or rather, try to. She has such! a soft! heart! and it is undeniably hard to not love Maeve, so I have no doubt that this is exactly what will happen. I’d like to see her become a Joan of Arc again, a martyr for the sake of love, willingly throwing herself into the fray to protect one and to protect all. I’d like to see it go to shit, of course - but I’m hoping that first, Maeve will be disillusioned by the Capulets already and considering going rogue, running away from Verona, etc.

With Maeve being so lovable and also fucking stubborn, I imagine she has quite a bit of information under her belt. I’d like to see someone use her for her information, information that she may not even realize is valuable - Juliana’s favorite color, her father’s weapon of choice, etc. I’d like to see her be manipulated because I think it’s incredibly realistic, and she can appear to be an easy target — though of course, they’d be wrong. Maeve has a certain way of getting under someone’s skin, whether it be through her goodness or her kindness or her surprising ferocity.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | I KILLED HER ONCE AND IDK IF I CAN DO IT AGAIN but we’ll see. :)

In Depth

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Interview: The following questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would if you were playing the character.

What is your favorite place in Verona? |

“Oh, there are so many.” Maeve folds her legs against her chest, resting her chin atop her knees and smiling like she has been offered a present. With the light falling in from the window behind her and her curls surrounding her face like a halo, she looks younger than her nineteen years. Far younger - but there is a knowing look in her eye that stands the test of time, makes them question their assumption of her age.

“Okay, I’ll tell you my favorite place, but you can’t tell anyone.” She leans in conspiratorially, nearly falling off her seat as she did, “it’s Verona’s hidden gem, I swear.”

Maeve waits for their promise before continuing. “There is a small local market on the outskirts of Verona, just at the city’s edge. It only sells secondhand goods, but that’s the best part of it - everything sold has already been loved, and buying things there feels like letting another person into your life. You know?”

They shrug their shoulders, not able to understand her fascination with used junk. Maeve’s smile does not dim, actually glows brighter still; she’s used to not being understood, and she knows how to take discouragement in her hands and mold it into something kind and gentle. “It’s like, everything there has such history behind it. And when you take something like that, something that’s kind of old but so precious that the owner can’t bear to throw it away… it’s like you’re keeping that love alive. And the best way to honor love is to keep loving, even when it’s hard. Even when it’s a little rusty or needs to a good thunk before it turns on.”

She shrugs and presses her cheek against her knees, looking up at them sideways through her lashes. “Do you get it now?”

They swallow, and slowly nod. Yes, they do.

What does your typical day look like?

“With a really annoying alarm,” Maeve laughs. “And then I try to stay in bed for a little bit longer, but if I take too long, Papa will leave without breakfast, and we can’t have that.” Well-fed men are alert, she remembers learning, and the hungry die first. “I always start by making breakfast fresh for the both of us, and if I can, I meal prep for the next two meals, too. It’s a nice and slow start to my day, and I’m always grateful for a chance to take my time and enjoy every small moment.”

Her head cants to the side as she ruminates on the rest of her day. Her mornings are the most consistent part of her day, the most cherished hour as the light trickles into the Petre home and Verona waits for Maeve to enter its embrace. “After that, I go to work at the flower shop if I have a shift that day. Sometimes, I go to the library and read everything I can. Or go to the coffee shop and people watch for awhile. It really depends!“ 

They quirk an eyebrow. “What about school?”

Maeve hesitates, eyes shifting from left to right to make sure her Papa is not around. “Someone has to stay home and take care of the house,” she says once she’s confident they are alone. “I could have gone to university, and I was really excited to go for a long time, but…” She sighs, dreamy and sad. “There are more important things, and I am still learning so much now without being in school. The world can wait for me. My Papa, though - he needs me.”

Her lips lift to a small and secret smile. “More than he knows.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

She remembers her Papa coming home, his shadow sinister in the moonlight and the blood staining his hands and his cheek. She remembers swallowing her fear and asking, quietly and plainly, what he was out doing. If she will let herself, Maeve knows she can feel the same drop in her stomach and the sudden, violent urge to vomit at his feet.

She remembers marching up to the Capulets and demanding recruitment. “Enlist me,” she remembers saying, “and I will be the most valuable person in your army.”

She remembers the glint in their eye, an old friend of her father’s and surely a pawn in the Capulets’ game. “You have no experience with violence, weapons or warfare. You’ve been kept in the dark your entire life, and you think you offer value?”

“Yes." 

She remembers their approving hum. She remembers the quick and rapid process of becoming a Capulet as her Papa watched, horror in his eyes. She remembers being proud of herself.

No, joining the Capulets is not the mistake Maeve is thinking of.

“My biggest mistake has been letting the world make decisions without me. My entire life, I’ve loved Verona more than anyone - and never once did I ask the right questions. I thought I knew my Papa, thought I knew Verona.. For so long, I lived… I lived a lie. Because I never tried to see what was right in front of me.”

Her fingers are shaking, Maeve realizes with a start. She folds them together and wills them to stop trembling. “It won’t happen again.”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

“When I told my Papa I planned to join him in the Capulets, he was furious.” Maeve fiddles with the ring on her right ring finger, a dainty thin gold band with a single diamond in the center. Her mother’s engagement ring, and her most prized possession - and often the first sign of her emotional turmoil. “It was the first real fight we had,” she reminisces out loud, “and he insisted I take it back.”

Her lips twist regretfully as she recalls how ugly their words had gotten. “He asked me to be my mother’s daughter - not his. He told me I was meant to be a flower only, his little girl… and I was.” Her voice cracked. “I am." 

Maeve clears her throat quietly and takes a second to gather her composure. When she speaks again, it’s with undeniable conviction and passion: “I cannot be less than who I am, and I will be the one to decide who exactly that is. And right now,” she smiles, “I am a Capulet.” 

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

“Haven’t you heard?” Her eyes are sparkling, as if they are sharing some private joke. “I’m the poster child for anti-war.”

But the joke is short-lived, and before they get the chance to smile along, Maeve’s expression sobers and the atmosphere of the room changes. "It’s a never-ending circle, and it is destroying us. We’re sacrificing everything that truly matters: the people we love, the city we live in, ourselves. And for what? Revenge?”

She bites her lip, unmistakeable distressed. “I won’t fight in this war. I know I’m young, and I know I’m just a soldier — but I will be stronger than my Papa. Where he was weak, I will be strong for the both of us.“ She pauses, and then — "For my Mama, too.”

Maeve smiles kindly, knowing the reaction her speeches usually receive. If she believed any less, then she might even be sorry — but her ideals are too important, and she will be damned if she even considers apologizing for them. “I know that this might be hard to understand. We have lived like this for so long, maybe even without realizing it. But I do believe there is hope. For Verona, for all of us. There is a brighter day coming; I just know it.”

In-Character Para Sample: Again, write as much or as little as you need to get your interpretation across.

I.

“Papà, you must remember. Please, tell me you remember,” Maeve begs, her hands clasped together like a child’s prayer.

Her eyes are just like her mother’s. The thought comes unbidden before Philip can close his heart against it. The memory of his first love, staring up at him with eyes as warm as the earth, with all the feeling in the world — it is crippling and heartbreaking and all too much. His heart falters at the reality of her death as he remembers and relives it, over and over again.

She is just like you, Maria.

He takes another hearty swig from his glass, avoiding his daughter’s gaze like she is the angel of death.

“Papà,” Maeve says again, her voice a low whisper. “Papà, please.”

How can a girl so young move his heart so? His own flesh and blood, and he is too afraid to look at her for fear that he won’t be able to breathe.

Another swig.

“Oh, Papà.” Before he can close his arms and resist a child’s love, his daughter is climbing onto him, curling in his lap and pressing her ear against his chest. “I forget, sometimes.”

She is searching for my heart. The poor creature. She won’t find it. My heart is gone, it is torn into pieces and all that is left is something cold and silver.

“I forget that you must miss her, too.”

The cup falls to the floor, and Maeve flinches in his arms at the crash of it — but still, she holds on tight.

He answers her unspoken question gruffly, his throat raw and blistered: “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“I miss her, too. But… Papà?”

“What, stella mia?”

“I miss you, more.”

And this is the final crack in his chest; and the river is opened up to him; and silent, steady tears begin to fall.

“We don’t have to talk about Mamma. It’s okay. It’s just you and me now.” A hand holds his cheek like a ghost used to, in another life.

But that was the past, and this is the present, and the future is in his arms trying to save him from the darkness he carries, the darkness she is too young to understand. He knows it is Maria’s influence; such light could only come from Maeve’s mother, for Maria was the sun that carried the weight of his entire sky.

He will not fail Maria, and he cannot fail Maeve. He will pour his heart and soul and mind unto Maeve until he can hardly recognize himself, and he will hide his burdens from Maeve so she will never look like him.

Maria. Maeve. Maria. Maeve. 

“How I love you, stella mia.” With newfound courage and determination, Philip holds her close. “How I love you.”

“Oh, Papà. I love you, too. 

* Maria: meaning “sea of bitterness” or “sea of sorrow”; “rebellion” “wished-for child” and “mistress or lady of the sea”

II. a diary entry

A long time ago, I was afraid of the night. I can’t tell you how or when it began, but I have carried this childish fear with me for too many years to count. I thought it was a part of me, just another piece of the puzzle that had no origin and no explanation. There was so much that I did not understand: my father, my mother, the world I so longed to see.

But one day, I thought. One day, I might understand it all.

A long time ago, I was afraid of the night, but I loved it, too. When the sun had set and the light had all but faded, the sound of the one you love coming home would ring out like church bells on a spring morning; the smell of cigarettes would hold tightly to the air like an embrace after a long, weary voyage. 

For the night brought many terrors, but it had some comforts, too; didn’t all nightmares end with the whispered comforts of I am here, stella mia, I am here and the day will come and the monsters are only bad thoughts who have overstayed their welcome?

A long time ago.

A long time ago, I only thought of my father returning; I did not know and did not even think to question where he was returning from.

I shall never forget the emptiness of his eyes. I shall never forget the tired droop of his shoulders, the black silhouette of his that seemed so familiar at night. I shall never forget the silver in his hair, which I had not seen before until the moonlight brought its cruel light to every secret I had not considered.

I tried, very hard, to forget the red. I chose to remember the rest, the cold silver and black and blue of it all — but the red, I desperately tried to forget. But I could not let go of the scarlet, as hard as I tried.

I… had a reason for staying up waiting, for running to see him. I can’t remember it now, but — there was a reason.

Ah, I remember. I wanted to read him a poem.

I was a child.

He did not say a single word that night. He shook his head, ever so slightly, and walked away.

Papà. Beloved Papà. 

The burden of knowing and still not fully understanding has haunted me since. For even after seeing him in the silver and black and blue and red, Papà merely patted my cheek and sent me on my flowery way. I felt so small, so strange, as if I could hardly recognize myself.

He told me that when I was older, I would understand. I wanted to tell him that I have been waiting my entire life to understand. Even as a child, I so yearned to know about the mother I didn’t remember, and I never received an answer. It pained Papà to hear talk of her, and it pained me to see him weep. So I stopped, but I always wondered, and I always dreamed of a woman’s soft hands and laughing eyes.

I never told him this… and maybe if his secret had been softer, forgiveness would have come so easily. I can empathize with shielding the one you love from pain.

But not like this. Not like Papà did. It wasn’t just his secrecy that wounded me deep to the bone; it was the secret itself. I would never have imagined Papà, who was my entire sun and sky, to be… like that.

It wasn’t just the fact that I didn’t know everything about him. It was that when he came home in scarlet, I didn’t recognize him at all. It was that I loved him still, even with my shattered heart.

I have made peace with this. It might seem strange to you that I can say with full confidence that I have forgiven Papà and that I still love him as my own sun and sky, after writing all of this. But I have. My love for him is stronger than any betrayal, and even that night cannot steal that from us. 

These thoughts are so much louder these days because tomorrow, I will be a Capulet soldier. I am older now, just like Papà said, and I must know why Papà ran to their shadows all those years ago. For I have come to the conclusion that to love someone is to know them. 

Tomorrow, I will know. Tomorrow, I will begin to understand.

Or so I hope.

III.

Each night, Maeve held her bleeding heart in hand and tucked it under her arm to keep it warm while the wind howled with despair. Be still, my heart; the sun will rise again, and the war will be ours to win.

Because it was a war, though not the one the Capulets enlisted her for. No matter what they told her, Maeve would choose her own battles, and she was determined to fight for peace until it was Verona’s triumph — for she had no other choice, for the only alternative was to lose her father and her home to blood and guns. 

From the shadows, a man appeared: her target. Her mission was to retrieve the full payment for an order placed exactly one month ago. He was a new, and so far unreliable, client, and therefore needed extra… encouragement to pay the Capulets in full.

The job fell to Miranda, who had never run a solo mission before. Though she might be green, she was confident; she had impressed the others with her sheer will, if not her skill with the knife. They might not take her seriously yet, but they would, for Maeve was determined to make her voice heard.

“They tell me you’re called Miranda,” the man said.

“Yes,” was her simple answer, short and straightforward.

The street lights illuminated the cruel crook of his lips, the sharp slant of his brows. “They also tell me that you are here for my money.” He was sneering at her, his lips curled in a resentful snarl.

Maeve stepped forward, the softness of her eyes coming to view. “That’s true.”

At the sight of her pretty face, the man’s expression shifted to one of surprise. “They sent a pretty girl like you,” he moved closer, “alone in the middle of the night?”

“Is that so strange?” She adjusted her grip on the knife hidden in a sheath inside her sleeve.

“Not strange,” the man shook his head, “dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Maeve offered a kind smile as she continued to adjust her fingers on her knife’s grip, wondering — if she needed to bring it forward. If her knife was worth using at all. “I appreciate the concern, but I think you know that we don’t send soldiers into battle unprepared.”

“What battle is there, girl?” His laugh was unexpected and rang false in the night, too jaded to be true. “You think I don’t have the money? You think I won’t pay?”

“I don’t think anything. I’m here on orders, and orders alone, to retrieve the payment in full for the last transaction between you and the Capulets.”

He spat onto the ground and thrust his hands into the pockets of his pants, staring off into the night sky. “It’s all about money with you folks.”

“Not all of us — but you did make a promise, sir, and you must honor it. It is the gentlemanly thing to do.”

The man fell silent for a moment, and when he spoke, it was with the barest hint of vulnerability. “So you think I’m a gentleman, huh?”

“I assume most men are gentlemen until they prove otherwise,” Maeve said gently.

Her compassion seemed to ease the man out of appearances and reveal his true nature; a look of panic came over his features, wild and dangerous. “What if I told you I didn’t have the money?” A tremble shook through every word, and his eyes seemed to widen by the moment. “What would they do to me, then?”

She wanted desperately to reassure him, to tell them that she was only a soldier, new and inexperienced and unknowledgeable. But it was not that Maeve did not know; it was that she did not agree. For how could Maeve threaten (or worse) a man who, in that moment, seemed so human. 

“I… don’t think you want to know,” she finally answered, sympathy passing over her features.

The man groaned and threw his hands in the air. “I had the money, I swear I had it. But then that bastard got me drunk and the women were so pretty…”

The tale of a proud man, who wanted nothing more than to prove himself. Maeve sighed and loosened her grip on her knife. There would be heavy consequences to bear for her next words, but there was nothing else she could do. For her heart was soft and could not bear to harm another. “I will do my best to grant you an extension.”

The man breathed out a long sigh of relief, wrapping his arms about his torso tightly like a congratulatory embrace. “Thank you, thank you. You are kind, Miranda, kinder than I deserve. Tell them that I will have it immediately, I only need a little more time. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Please,” Maeve only let a hint of desperation show in her tone, “don’t do this again. The next time, you will not be forgiven so easily.” With a nod and a faint smile, she turned and walked away from the now-incoherent man. 

She would pay for this later — but nothing worth having came without a price.

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here! This is OPTIONAL.

I kept a few headcanons from the old app I thought still applied:

Knives. When Philip first handed her a 9mm Glock 17, Maeve’s hands shook as she forced her fingers to wrap around the grip. He put his hands on her shoulders and methodically explained just how to use a weapon, and when he stepped back, she knew it was not in her. She turned to her father with silent tears already staining her cheeks and pushed the weapon back into his hands. Papà, a gun is for killing, she said gently, and I am not a killer.

But to be a Capulet was to wield a weapon like a musical instrument, a paintbrush, a masterpiece; so Maeve chose the knife, for at least it was more than just violence. Just like her, a knife could be both sharp and soft, it could be used for bad and good. It all depended on her choice, and Maeve knew that she would always choose good.

Part-time job. Maeve works at a local flower shop in Verona, making conversation with the regulars and reading a book when the shop is slow. It’s a nice way to pass the hours, and she’s been there for so many years that it’s become a second home.

#accepted #accepted: miranda

[backbackbackagaynbitch]

Baby for a Day

Author’s Note: Whoo! First old fic up on the new sideblog. I figured I’d start with one of the lesser known ones I’ve got. I don’t remember this getting many notes before, so why not put it up to start? Hope you guys like it!

A shrill screeching interrupted your peaceful slumber, startling you awake. Your gaze spun a bit before focusing back on your surroundings. Sitting up, you looked around the dingy motel room, trying to find the source of the offending noise. Your eyes swept past the bed beside you, glimpsing Sam’s huge build underneath the too small motel blanket. Curled in a fetal position on the too short couch was Dean, one of his jackets over his body. Castiel was nowhere to be found, unsurprisingly.

But what was that shrill crying? And why were the boys not affected by this crying?

You groaned, slowly standing up and making your way around the motel bed. You stopped short, spotting a big bundle of fabric by the front of the couch. You approached it cautiously, withdrawing the small knife you always kept in your bra for defense.

The pile of tan fabric was squirming, and it looked like the loud cries were emanating from under it. You clutched a corner of it with one hand and drew back the cloth in one swift movement, the other hand already in the air and poised to strike.

The crying stopped as soon as you ripped the cloth away from whatever was under it—and what was under it… just made you stop and stare for a minute.

It was… a baby. A baby. A beautiful baby boy, maybe not more than a year old, with electric blue eyes and dark curly hair. He had rosy and fluffy-looking cheeks and he was just staring at you, eyes still slightly damp. The way the baby was staring at you, so intensely and wide-eyed, had you dropping the knife on the floor with a clang and just pick him up.

Whilst in a staring contest with the baby, you finally had the sense to wake the brothers up. “Sam! Dean! Wake up, we have a problem.” The boys jumped and groaned, sitting up on their respective places. You still couldn’t figure out how they slept through all that screaming. “Guys, wake up!”

Sam gained his bearings first and was just staring at you and the baby you held in your arms. “Uh…” was the only thing he could say. Where the hell did you get that baby?

“Ugh, Y/N,” Dean groaned, “it’s still early, what are you—…” His words died out as he spotted the baby, face mirroring his baby brother’s exactly.

“Okay,” you started, bouncing the little human in your arms, “first of all, I have no idea where this little guy came from—he was just on the floor, crying.” The baby suddenly raised his tiny and chubby arms and began playing with your face and hair. You had to admit, it was kind of cute, and brought a small smile to your face. “Secondly, I cannot understand how you two were able to sleep through his crying, and thirdly,” you shifted a bit to cradle the baby in one arm and pointed with the other to the pile of fabric on the floor, “can someone check what’s under there?”

Dean, who was closest to the pile, moved immediately, crouching low and straightening the fabric one by one. The thing that initially covered the kid was actually a trench coat. You felt your eyebrows pull together. Could it be?

The older Winchester set aside the coat and held up a white polo, followed by a blue necktie, and then matching black slacks and a blazer. All that’s left of the pile was a pair of shoes.

The three of you had your suspicions, and you were fairly sure that you were thinking the same thing. You looked at the child with the shining blue eyes and whispered, “Cas?”

The baby giggled.

“What the fuck?” Dean shouted, hurriedly straightening from his crouched position and rushing to you and the baby Angel. “Cas?” The baby in question turned to him, spreading his arms, as if demanding Dean to carry him. Dean carefully obliged, and Castiel just… melted into him, resting his cheek on Dean’s shoulder, arms spread against the Hunter’s chest. Dean gingerly patted the baby’s back.

You and Sam just watched, genuinely surprised that Baby Cas took such a swift liking to Dean. The Hunter turned to both of you. “What?” he asked, genuinely puzzled at your gazes.

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head innocently. “Just… It looks like Cas is claiming you as his dad, Dean.” You couldn’t help the grin on your face. It was just so cute, seeing a baby Angel cradled in the arms of one of the most fearsome Hunters you knew.

Surprise etched itself on Dean’s face, and he sputtered out, “W-well, what about you? Did you see the way Cas was playing with you? And how he giggled when you said his name?” When Dean said “giggle”, Cas laughed, a sweet tinkling noise. The Hunter’s face reddened. “Anyway, you’re officially designated as Mom until we can figure out how to turn Cas back.”

You shook your head, smiling. You weren’t really opposed to the idea—hell, you were actually excited. It’d been a while since you got to babysit—granted, this time the baby was actually an Angel, but still. And Cas seemed like a good and behaved child, so it should be no problem.

“Fine,” you conceded, going over to Dean and coaxing Baby Castiel back into your arms. “If I’m going to be the mom, you have to do the shopping for Cas’s things.” You bounced Cas around and smiled when he flashed you a toothless grin. You looked at Sam, who still hasn’t spoken a word since he woke up. “Get to researching on this, Uncle Sam,” you teased with a grin.

Sam just gave you his signature bitch face and went to fetch his laptop.

You were regretting what you said about Castiel seeming like a behaved kid around three hours into the day.

The three of you discovered that morning that Cas was fully capable of crawling and standing up on his own. Which was good for him, and it looked really cute whenever he would just wobble on his feet. So yeah, good for him. But not for you three.

See, while Castiel couldn’t really walk yet, he was very much adept at holding onto things, pulling things, and putting random items into his mouth. For example, you left him alone with Sam for around five minutes (to freshen yourself up), and when you came back, he was already clutching the cable of the big lug’s laptop’s charger and was about to pull it into his mouth if you hadn’t stopped him.

Another instance was with John Winchester’s journal. Dean had been looking through it for a possible explanation of why Castiel was suddenly a baby, when said Angel grabbed the rosary hanging from the binding of the journal, and dragged it down. Approximately three things happened after that: (1) The mug spilled its contents all over the table and Dean’s lap, (2) Dean swore and stood up too quickly, accidentally jabbing his knee on the underside of the table and he swore again, and (3) when the journal fell, it hit Castiel on the head, eliciting a cry from the little winged baby. You’d managed to calm him down with an ice pack on this head and some baby formula, although that took a long time (and by long, you meant long).

Cas was sleeping peacefully now, nestled in a blanket and the fluffiest pillows you could find. Despite Cas’s energy, it was surprisingly easy to put him to sleep. You were worried, though, that he might wake up too soon, what with all the noises in the motel room.

“Hey, Y/N, I think I got it,” Sam whispered. He had been researching for hours, only getting up a handful of times to go to the bathroom.

You treaded silently to the table he was at and propped one hand on it to lean on. “What’d you get?”

“Remember that Witch we were looking for? The one that led us here in the first place?”

“Yeah, thank God we finally ganked that son of a bitch.” You shuddered at the memories of all the corpses he left behind, relieved that he was gone now.

“Yeah, about that. Apparently, it’s a spell that turned Cas this way. It’s a really high-level spell, and that Witch was powerful enough to do almost anything.” Sam looked at you pointedly.

“You’re saying he cast the spell on Cas?” you asked, incredulous. “When did he do that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam shook his head. “There must be a hex bag hidden here somewhere, or,” he pointed at something on the laptop screen, “a mark somewhere on the victim, ‘written in the blood of the Spell Caster’,” he read.

You looked at the sleeping Angel, who seriously looked like such a sweetheart when he slept. “I think I saw something on Cas’s back earlier, but I can’t be sure.” You turned to Sam. “I’ll check when he wakes up. Meanwhile,” you straightened up and stretched out your arms, “I’m gonna follow Cas’s lead and take a nap. Tell Dean to wake me up when he gets back?” With a nod from Sam, you padded over to the little nest on your bed and made yourself comfortable next to Cas.

When Dean got back from a food run with arms filled with bags of fast food for you three and baby food for Castiel, the first thing he saw was the adorable sight of you sleeping peacefully beside the baby Angel. An arm was curled under your head, and the other covered Cas’s small frame protectively. Cas had turned in his sleep to face you, a tiny hand placed possessively on your neck.

He carefully and quietly went over to Sam (who was sleeping at the table) and laid out all the stuff he got. Every sound the plastic bags and paper made had him looking at the two sleeping people on the bed. Dean gently tapped Sam’s shoulder to wake him up, silently gesturing for him to eat something. With a quiet groan, Sam obliged.

Dean went over to you and Cas, carefully settling himself behind you and putting a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N,” he whispered, leaning in close you your ear. “Hey, kid, wake up.” You groaned softly, shifting your weight a bit before you stopped moving, realizing that Cas had snuggled up beside you. Dean let out a low chuckle. “Don’t worry, I got ‘im. Go eat something.”

You slowly sat up, watching if Cas would wake, and traded places with Dean. Castiel fidgeted and shifted a bit when Dean made to lie down beside him, but otherwise didn’t wake. You stood up and smiled when you saw Dean immediately wrap an arm around Baby Cas and settle in.

It was quiet as you and Sam ate, just watching the boys on the bed. A few minutes after you finished, Castiel woke up. You couldn’t really tell at first because he was so quiet. But then it seemed like Dean tickled his neck or something and he giggled—the cutest little sound. Dean sat up and bounced Cas on his lap, and you came over and sat next to them.

Sam stayed where he was. His laptop was open, but he couldn’t stop watching you and Dean and the baby. Well, it was technically Cas, but it was a nice picture—you three looked like a happy family, looked like people who led a normal, apple pie life. Sam knew that it was something Dean wanted; he wanted it, too, but he knew that they could never have that. They could never settle down. Never have kids. This was as close as they could get.

“You know,” Sam said, his voice cutting through Cas’s giggles and Dean’s laughter, “you guys make nice parents.” You and Dean just looked at each other and then at Sam, eyebrows scrunched up, as if saying, Really, Sam?

“What?” he said, shrugging. “I’m serious. You guys know your way around taking care of a kid.” He couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, all right, Sam,” you said, taking Cas from Dean and hugged him to you, swaying as you spoke. “Tell Dean what you found.” You started humming, keeping it on a low volume as Sam told Dean about the possible hex bag the Witch snuck in or the mark he wrote on Cas.

“Search the room?” Dean suggested. When Sam nodded, they both stood up and began searching the room for hex bags. You, meanwhile, checked Castiel, looking for any smudge or streak that could have possibly been put there by the Witch.

You rucked up the small blue t-shirt Castiel was wearing, examining his chest and tummy area. When you didn’t find any, you pulled down the front and pulled up the back, gasping at what you saw.

Elaborate black lines and swirls covered the upper part of Cas’s back. The weird tattoo looked like a pair of wings, starting from two points near his spine and then branching outwards, as if they were unfurling, trying to break free of the canvas that was Cas’s skin and just fly him off into the clouds. They were beautiful, and you wondered briefly where the tattoo-like-birthmark-thing went with his current vessel. On the occasional glimpse that you got of Castiel’s bare back, you never saw anything like this. You made a mental note to ask him about it when you finally got him back to normal.

Other than the wings though, you didn’t see any weird looking mark. You also checked his arms and hands, and his legs and feet, but saw nothing. There wasn’t anything either on his face and neck.

“No mark on Cas, guys,” you called to the brothers, who were still fussing about the room and digging around every drawer and bag they could find.

“Nothing here,” Sam whispered, making his way over to you and the baby Angel. You caught Dean’s eyes, and he shook his head.

You thought hard. Where could that hex bag be? It wasn’t like he could just slip it on Cas’s person during—

“His clothes,” you whispered, the realization hitting you. “Guys, check Cas’s clothes, his pockets.”

Sam immediately went to search Castiel’s clothes (still in a pile on the couch, for whatever reason), but Dean said, “You think the son of a bitch snuck it in?”

You shrugged, Castiel fidgeting in your arms, wanting to be carried the right way, so you stood up, swaying and rocking him so he wouldn’t make a fuss. “Only thing I can think of.” Dean sighed, but it quickly turned into a grin when Sam triumphantly held up a green hex bag in one hand.

You smiled, relieved that Cas could return to normal. But you couldn’t help the twinge of sadness balling up inside you. You were gonna miss caring for the little rug rat. “Well, what do you know, Cas?” you whispered to him. “You’re gonna get back to normal.” Raising a finger, you lightly tickled his neck, and heard his cute little giggle before a bright light emanated from him, and you promptly let go of him to shield your eyes.

When next you opened them, the first thing you saw was a very naked Angel of the Lord and covered up your eyes again, whilst telling Cas to get dressed and laughing a bit. You dropped your arms to your sides when you were absolutely sure that Castiel had all his layers on.“Sam, Dean,” were the first things he said. “Thank you for helping me when I turned into an infant. I appreciate it greatly.” Castiel turned to you and captured you in an embrace. You were still, unsure how to react. Eventually, though, you returned the hug, holding onto him tightly. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help the small smile on your face. “Anytime, Cas,” you whispered. And it was true. You’d do anything for these boys, absolutely anything. And you knew they’d do the same for you.

#spn #supernatural #spn fic #castiel #sam winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #slight lang #backbackbackagaynbitch