#Hi I'm gonna try and be answering my month old asks now

[operationlove]

here is my anger

*hands it to you*

Thank you, I think [Referenced post]

[jaeeyaaasworld]

Single Mother Next Door - CL16

Featuring: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Warnings: reader is a single mother, mention of an awful ex, reader was in an abusive relationship, Charles is literally so sweet that it makes my own teeth rot, GLASSES CHARLES (of course it's a warning)

Requested: Yes/No

"OH MY GOD, LANDO"

Charles yelled without even realizing, his headphones blocking even his own voice.

it was one in the morning and his loud laugh was resonating in the whole apartment.

what he didn't know was that, on the other side of his wall, there was a little eleven months old baby trying to sleep, with little success because of his loud yells.

the baby started crying right on the spot, making his mom run to him from the kitchen, where she was still cleaning.

"oh I know, baby"

you whispered, picking your baby up and trying to calm him down as possible, but as soon as the kid seemed to close his eyes for a little longer another yell came from the apartment next to yours.

you couldn't take it anymore, you had to do your stuff and quickly go to sleep to at least have a few hours of sleep before you had to get up and get your baby in daycare to go to work.

so, with the baby in your arms, you walked out of your apartment and knocked on your neighbor's door a few times.

Charles was turning off his stream and taking his headphones off when he heard someone knocking on his door, making him frown his eyebrows.

he looked at the time and it was 1 AM, who could be knocking on his door at 1 AM?

Charles got up from his seat and walked out of the room to go answer the door.

as soon as he opened the door he was met with a pretty young woman with a toddler in her arms, she was almost panicking as the baby in her arms was crying while hugging her neck tightly.

"hi, I'm the girl that lives next door. I'm really, really sorry to spoil your fun, but my toddler can't sleep and he keeps crying so can I ask you to, please, maybe, keep your voice slightly lower?"

you started rambling, rocking up and down with the baby in your arms to try and soothe him to sleep.

Charles slightly widened his eyes at the sight, gulping the lump that had formed in his throat.

"yeah, of course. I'm really sorry, I didn't know you had a toddler, I never heard him cry so..."

he started, as the toddler got up from your shoulder as he heard Charles' new voice.

his eyes were a bit puffy and his nose was a bit red from crying, he was watching Charles couriosly, making Charles smile at him while bending down slightly to see eye to eye with the sleepy toddler.

"hi, baby. I'm really sorry if I woke you up, I promise I will try to keep it down in the future for you and your momma"

Charles smiled at the toddler, making you smile at the interaction between the two.

"well, I'm sorry if I bothered you. I'm gonna go back to my apartment, see you around maybe..."

you said in an interrogative way.

"oh- Charles, nice to meet you"

he said with a smile.

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you as well. oh- and thank you for understanding"

you replied with the same smile.

a smile that made Charles realize actually how beautiful you were.

you were tired, slight bags under your eyes as your tired smile stretched yours lips.

"i-it's nothing, really"

he stuttered out a bit and his cheeks turned slightly red as you entered back into your apartment, your toddler collapsing back on your shoulder as he tried to sleep again.

Charles closed his apartment door behind his back, his eyes still widened as he scrambled to search for his phone and dialing Lando's phone number.

Lando was the closest one to him, as he lived in the same apartment building in Monaco just two floors above him.

"what is it? we just got off the stream, Charles"

his friend asked, as soon as he picked up the call.

"is there a chance that you know a mother that lives in this building?"

Charles whispered to his phone, he now knew that his walls were thin as paper.

"I don- I don't think there's a mother in our apartment building, at least in my floor"

he said, thinking about the people that he saw enter or exit the hall while he was in there for any reason, but then he frowned his eyebrows.

"why are you whispering, mate?"

Lando asked his friend, confused on why his friend would whisper like that while he should be alone in his house.

"well, my walls are thin as shit and my neighbor can hear basically everything I say"

Charles whispered again, making Lando burst out laughing at his comment.

"are you serious, mate?"

he asked, still laughing as hard as Charles as ever heard and making the man sigh as he closed his eyes and started rubbing his fingers on his closed eyelids.

"yes, she is a mother and I've been keeping her toddler awake the whole night"

Charles said, making Lando laugh even harder at him and his situation.

"oh my god, mate. I would never want to be in your shoes. did she lash out at you or did she send her husband for you?"

Lando asked Charles, still giggling.

"no, actually she came to my door really calmly and asked politely if I could keep my voice down a bit"

Charles told his friend, throwing his own body on the couch while still keeping his phone to his ear to still hear his friend talk.

"and how was she? hot?"

asked Lando.

"Lando, you only think about this stuff... yeah, she's hot"

he whispered back to his friend and getting another laugh in return, but this time Lando's laugh made Charles smile and let out a small chuckle.

"go to sleep now, mate"

Lando said, a big yawn came from his side of his phonecall, which made Charles yawn with him.

"yeah, I better go to sleep now. goodnight, Lando"

Charles greeted, getting an hum from Lando as he hung up the phone, and he got up from his place on the couch to walk into his bedroom to get dressed in his pyjamas and go to sleep.

a toddler's cry could be heard from the other side of the wall, making him stop in his track and look towards the wall where the cry was coming from.

he knew it wasn't his fault this time, but he couldn't help but feel guilty for waking him up the first time.

so he felt in the right and a little in dept to try and make the baby calm down as soon as possible so that you could go to sleep and finally get the rest you needed.

Charles walked towards the piano in his apartment, sitting in the little seat that was in front of the black and white tiles.

he placed his hands on the tiles delicately and started playing one of his songs slowly and lowly, he was sure that the sound of the music could be heard from the other side of the wall, reaching his neighbor's apartment.

Charles slowly stopped hearing the sound of the toddler's cry, a smile showing up on his face as he kept playing softly for your kid.

after a few minutes he stopped playing, the sound of silence was so good, and just the thought that he was able to make your toddler stop crying fumbled with his heart.

he reluctantly got up from the seat and walked back to his bedroom, laying on his bed with his arm under his head, staring at his ceiling and still thinking about you and your cute little baby.

time skip: a week later

"mate- how is it going with the neighbor?"

Lando asked Charles as they walked into the hall of their apartment building, going towards the elevator while taking their home keys out of their pockets.

"I didn't see her since that day, but that night her kid started crying again and I played the piano for him"

Charles replied, pressing his floor button on the little plate in the elevator, and Lando gasped lightly at what he said.

"and it worked?"

he asked as the elevator doors closed with them inside.

"of course it worked, what did you think?"

Charles chuckled.

"I did it a couple times and he always calms down really quickly"

he said as the elevator dinged and the doors opened to Charles' floor, and as soon as the doors opened a man's voice yelling could be heard.

"please- calm down, there's people sleeping"

a little female voice was heard right after the yelling, making Charles and Lando both step out of the elevator and look more into the situation.

Charles' eyes widened immediately as he saw a man in front of your door, yelling and pushing you into the wall.

"you think I care about the people sleeping on this fucking floor? everyone should know here that you're a fucking whore"

the man yelled again, grabbing your jaw harshly and pushing you into the wall aggressively.

Charles couldn't take it anymore and he decided it was time for him to step in and stop the whole altercation.

he walked up to you two and grasped the man's wrist to yank him away from you, and the two men finished eye to eye, even though the man was slightly shorter then Charles.

"what are you doing, mate?"

Charles asked the man, putting himself between the man and you, as the man scoffed.

"and who are you, huh? her new play thing?"

he asked while gesturing his hands around, making Charles furrow his eyebrows and reach behind himself to flush your body to his back, your hands grabbing his shirt at his sides tightly.

"what if? who even are you?"

Charles asked, nodding his chin towards him and making a step forwards in almost a threatening way.

"you know, the father of the kid you are probably acting like a father to?"

the man said, making Charles realize that he was probably your ex and the father of your kid.

Charles stayed silent, deciding that it was time to end this whole thing right now before it escalated any further.

"when are you gonna let me see my kid, Y/n?"

the man asked, bending his body to the side to look at you, but Charles body blocked his whole sight and he couldn't even get a glimpse of you.

"when he is able to tell me what happens"

you say, getting into your house quickly and closing the door behind your back with a loud sound.

"this bitch-"

the man tried to get close to the door of your apartment, but Charles stopped him, basically getting in his face.

"if you don't get out of this building as soon as I can even think about it, I will get to know where you work, where you live and take everything down real soon"

he said, making the man take a few steps back, his face a little paler than earlier but still trying to be big and bad.

"and how would you do that, huh? who even are you?"

the man asked, making Charles scoff.

"you don't need to know, the only thing you need to know is that here you will probably see my face everywhere in Monaco and you will never be able to forget about what I did to your life"

the man started taking slow steps back, walking towards the end of the corridor, where the elevator was still open and waiting for him.

as this all happened, Charles realized that Lando was still standing there a bit shocked and staring at him like he was crazy.

"can you check that he really gets out? I need to check on her"

he said, turning towards your door as soon as Lando nodded his head at his request and walked to the elevator right after the man.

Charles softly knocked on your door.

"go away"

you said from the inside, making Charles' heart clench.

"it's Charles, can you open the door, please?"

he asked as softly and lowly as possible.

you slowly opened the door, letting him walk inside, careful not to step onto some toys that your kid had left around.

a little sniffle came from you that were behind him and Charles turned towards you to pull you into a tight hug.

"you wanna talk about it?"

he asked you softly, getting a shake of your head in return.

"it's okay, I don't need to-"

his words were cut off by a baby's cry that made you get out of the hug, but Charles stopped you while putting his hands on your upper arms.

"can I go?"

Charles asked, getting an hesitant nod from you and going towards the little bed that was in the living room to get the baby in his arms.

he started swaying side to side, humming lowly the melody of his song that he usually played on the piano to calm him down, while Y/n sat on the small couch that was on the side of the small bed.

the baby slowly started calming down, getting back to sleep pretty quickly so that Charles could place the baby back down onto the bed and sit on the couch next to you.

"he was abusive"

you started, making Charles look at you sweetly.

"you don't have to-"

Charles got cut off by you.

"no, I have to"

you said, taking in a deep breath and continuining on what you were saying.

"he was abusive, but when I got pregnant with Joe I decided that it was time for us to go. I couldn't bare loose my kid because of him, I lost already too much because of him. so I went away but he soon found out where I was working and where I was living and I had to change again. I was able to do eleven months living here, but now he found out and I don't know what to do. I mean- you were here now but you will not be here all the time and I would never expect you to and-"

you started rambling really quickly, making Charles stop you with an hand.

"you can trust me that he will not bother you anymore around here"

he said, drawing a low giggle from you that made his eyebrows furrow.

"did you threaten him or something?"

you asked jokingly as Charles smiled at your soft giggle.

"yeah, something like that"

he replied jokingly, with another low chuckle.

"thank you, anyway"

you suddenly said as Charles smiled at you.

"for what?"

he asked, even though he could imagine what it was for, he still wanted to hear you say that.

"for playing the piano for my son and for protecting me today"

you said, looking at him with a soft smile that made Charles' heart skip a beat.

"that's really nothing"

he said, returning the same smile back at you.

"hey, uhm... I know, maybe it isn't the best time to ask something like that but, would you go on a date with me sometime? nothing soon, I mean- if you're ready soon would be lovely but if you're not it's okay- I'll stop talking, yeah"

Charles rambled in embarrassment, getting a small chuckle from you on his side.

"I would love to, but Joe-"

you didn't even get to say anything that Charles already found the solution to any problem that could have popped up, as he probably had already thought about these type of problems.

"you could both come to my house and I could even play the piano for him so that he could fall asleep while you rest a bit with me"

he tried, making you chuckle and nod your head.

"then... tomorrow at 7 PM?"

Charles asked for confirmation, getting a nod in return as you both got up from the couch and walked towards your apartment door.

"well, goodnight, Charles. see you tomorrow"

you said, opening your arms to give him an hug.

"goodnight, Y/n"

he replied, tightening the hug just a tiny bit before letting go and exiting your apartment to enter his own.

time skip: the day after at 7 PM

a soft knock on Charles' door stopped his attempts at cooking to dry his hands on his apron to go open his door.

the sight of you dressed up in a cute dress with a big bag on your shoulder and Joe on your hip made Charles gasp slightly.

"you look so good"

Charles said, placing an hand on your upper arm to lean over and kiss your cheek, then turning towards Joe and taking him from your arms to throw him in the air playfully.

"and aren't you handsome all dressed up like a true gentleman"

he complimented the little kid, that was dressed up in a toddler sized tux, placing him on his hip and taking the big bag from your shoulder and placing it on his own shoulder.

"you look good as well, so domestic and so gentleman taking all my bags"

you complimented, smiling widely at Charles and getting on your tiptoes to place an hand on his shoulder to kiss his cheek.

"oh- I'm trying to cook you pasta, the last time I tried cooking it was kinda crunchy, but this time, I put a timer on the right time"

he said, placing the bag down on a barstool and still holding Joe on his hip while he went over to the kitchen to check on the pasta he was cooking.

you watched the whole scene from the doorstep of the kitchen, watching your date cook in his kitchen with your baby on his hip like he was his own kid.

"Joe eats the same things we do, right? I did some research yesterday and google told me that eleven months old eat the same thing adult do"

he asked, searching your face for something to confirm or deny what he was saying and getting a sure nod in return.

the timer on his phone ringed and you took Joe from Charles' arms so that he could get the pasta out of the water and into the pan with the condiment.

he plated everything as you sat down at the table with Joe on your leg, Charles placed the plates on the table and you started eating with Charles feeding Joe a few times when you were busy eating yourself.

the conversation kept flowing between you two and Joe soon got full and wanted to get down from your lap, but you tried to keep him in your lap since you didn't know if Charles was okay with your toddler snooping around in his apartment.

"oh, no. let him down, please. it's alright"

Charles said, noticing how you didn't want to let your kid down, so you finally let Joe get on the floor and roam around, you and Charles watching him as he reached a chair to slowly get up on his feet.

"he can walk?"

the man asked as you took a sip from your glass of wine.

"not yet, he's getting ready for it"

you replied, putting the wine glass down and getting up to go clean the dishes out of habit, but Charles stopped you by gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist that was grabbing the plate you used.

"oh no, I'll do it, you can chill with Joe over here"

he said, taking the dishes that you used and took them to the kitchen to place them in the sink, you smiled as he put his apron back on and you leaned on the kitchen island with your glass of wine while watching your son trying to paddle around and falling to his butt sometimes.

you watched around his living room, as Joe got closer to his piano, and the long line of big champagne bottles on his shelf caught you eye.

"what's up with all those bottles?"

you asked him, as you put your glass down to go to your kid as he started crawling towards Charles' couch.

"they're the champagne bottles from my podiums"

he explained quickly to you, since he was trying to load the dishwasher as quick as possible to get back to you and your kid.

"that's so cool"

you said, smiling up at the bottles as you sat on his couch as your son kept crawling around the coffee table in front of it.

you looked at the time and noticed that it was already 9:45 PM, looking at your son and how he started rubbing his eyes with sleep, picking him up from the ground and walking towards the kitchen to let Charles know.

"hey, Joe is really sleepy, so I think is time for me to go back"

you said, a sad smile on your face, you really didn't want to go back to your apartment yet, but you couldn't leave your son alone to get back here.

"or you could let Joe sleep on my bed and you could come back here with me- I mean, if you want to and if your comfortable of course"

he said, rubbing his neck shyly, his cheeks slightly red from embarrassment, making you chuckle.

"are you sure? that would mean that you would have to endure me for the whole night"

you warned him, since you couldn't pick up Joe in the middle of the night to take him back to your own apartment.

but your warning made Charles chuckle and smile warmly at you as he closed the loaded dishwasher and pulled off his apron.

"I could endure your company my whole life and never get tired of it, mon ange"

he said, getting closer to you and placing his hand on your upper arm with a loving smile.

"oh- that's so cheesy of you"

you teased him with a roll of your eyes and a smile.

"I'm gonna play the piano for Joe as you put him to sleep, is that good?"

Charles asked, getting a nod from you as you walked towards his room with the lights turned off as Joe already slumped on your shoulder.

the first notes of Charles song started playing and Joe was already starting to relax on your shoulder as you started rocking your body to slowly pull him to sleep.

as the song was done for the second time you were getting out of Charles' room, pulling the door almost closed behind your back.

Charles noticed you really quickly, turning around in his piano's seat with a smile as you smiled back at him.

he placed one of his legs on the other side of the seat, so that you could sit on front of him.

he patted the seat in front of him to call you over and you sat with both your legs to the outer side of the seat, sitting between his legs as his right hand went on your lower back and his left hand rested on your thigh.

"you look so pretty tonight, have I told you already?"

he whispered in your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his words and his breath on your neck made you giggle softly.

"yes, a few times already"

you said, turning your face towards him and smiling at him, your noses almost touching from how close you were to each other faces.

a small giggle came from him as your noses touched, left to right and then back right to left.

"I wanna kiss you so bad, right now. can I do it? can I kiss you?"

he asked in a whisper, making you smile and nod at his words.

your lips finally touched and the kiss was soft and slow, a soft smile stretching your lips as his hands pulled you closer by your waist and you placed your hand on his jaw, pulling him closer and closer.

he smiled as he felt your lips stretch in a smile, slightly pulling away to look at you and smile widely.

"why are you smiling?"

Charles whispered on your lips, making you chuckle and using your hand to fix some of his hair that didn't want to stay in their place.

"cause you make me feel good..."

you said, pecking his lips just to pull back again and leave him leaning forward slightly to chase your lips.

"... and safe"

you added in a whisper, making him smile widely and turn you around so that you were leaning your back on his chest as he moved your hair to one side to expose your bare neck and shoulder because of your dress.

"I will treat you and Joe better then him, you can count on that"

Charles whispered, placing soft pecks to the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and making you giggle as his breath slightly tickled you.

"I'm gonna trust you on that"

[warmilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 7

Again like- a lot of timeskips

____________________________

Present

"Yellow? You- you're giving me yellow?" Duke's brows furrowed at the color

Batman sighed "is something wrong with it?"

"no- just, everyone has dark colors, I don't wanna be a lightbulb"

"you will take what you'll get" Batman escorts Duke to the exit "Training starts tomorrow"

Bruce slumps in a chair, his hand crawling to a tv remote

"Okay- so- I'm bored right now, here is my cover of rolling in the deep------" A small nine year old kid holds a hairbrush as a mic

Countless videos of this child playing all by themselves, they found the iPad in the kid's room, while trying to search for a clue of what kind of person his child could be

-----"okay so, I'm on patrol right now, it's not allowed to record but loooook!" The camera pans to three small kittens in an alley

Bruce remembers, He made the kid throw the kittens back out on the street, Now he wonders how they felt when he let Damian's pets wander around the manor

__________________________

11 years old (Name)

"-You are no longer needed since Damian is here now"

The kid tightens their grip on their clothes "Is it that easy for you to replace me?" They asked, voice wavering, and their head lowering so Batman wouldn't see the tears that would fall

"(Name) I need a proper vigilante, not bait, so far you got attacked three times today alone" he pinched his nose

"And I managed to fight them all! If you're gonna turn Damian into a vigilante that's fine with me, but you're excluding me all together!?"

"this is not a discussion. If I ever find you in that suit again you won't be allowed to even get out of the Manor" he coldly said and turned away

(Name) has stayed away from the library since that day

____________________________

Aquaman stands before the council of governments and the justice league

"we are not responsible for the ocean's uprising! My empire has been doing everything to calm the ocean down, but it does not listen to my trident anymore!"

The sky and the seas have been raging lately, the shores have been rampaging, the justice league forced to evacuate sea dwellers

Wonderwoman spoke up "Aquaman is right, it is not his fault, it... It is the gods"

The crowd murmured in confusion

"Zeus and Poseidon have been having disputes, A powerful weapon was stolen and both sides are accusing each other, it is best to try and appease even a little of the gods anger, and pray they won't share their wrath with the humans" She finished

An uproar started

"You mean to tell us, lives were lost because of their arguing!?!"

"They're gods! Why can't they just talk amongst themselves?!"

"this is why I pray to Jesus... He is real right?" A reporter asked

"he is, but he's from a different Pantheon" Wonderwoman answered

"It's ALWAYS about fucking weapons, humans fight for nuclear weapons, and the gods fight about them too?"

"Do they need a spokesperson? I'll sort out their fight for them if they want"

A reporter raised his hand "Is there a place safe from their anger?"

"Well... Egypt is under the control of the Egyptian gods, but even, they are in conflict, Set is currently causing chaos, Boston and the land of the Vikings are protected by the Norse... Unfortunately- Loki has been freed from his prison and is also causing chaos" Wonderwoman sighed in stress

"But so far, no other Pantheons have been fighting, go to them, pray at them to protect you, just don't try to do anything that will anger the already angry gods as is, we might be the butt of their anger if we do"

With that the meeting ends, but not their fear though

___________________________

6 months later

"NNGGGHRRROOAAARRR" A roar from the Colchis bulls shakes the camp

Gerald Thanes (An ares kid) charged at the bull but was thrown at the table nearby

"What the fuck is that" you scream, A girl from your cabin grabs your hand and you run, "Can't we help!?"

"We can but we have to be careful, get a weapon or run to the armoury for protection first" with you guys being in a safe space now, she lets go and hugs you "I'll call on some dryads to help with the fire, stay safe okay?"

"you too" you say as you grab a spear on the floor, you throw it at the bulls feet, it nicks some gears off of it, but then It starts to charge at you

You ready to point your spear but then

?????

What?

It was running but it wasn't going anywhere, you walk to the side to see a cyclops holding it by the tail

He looks at you "Hi! :3 I'm Tyson"

You smile awkwardly "I'm (Name)"

Then two figures hug you to the ground

Percy laughs "I missed you so much!", Annabeth smiles at me "(Name)... let's finish this quickly, I want to tell you a lot of things"

Clarisse grunts as she gets thrown in our direction "can the three of you stop being sentimental! It's not the right time"

"Nice to see you too Clarisse" Percy says

______________________________

@delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven @sweetconnoisseurgardener @dhanyasri @bella-wolf100 @shortnsweetsposts @roseapov @d3sperate-enuf

[melbatron5000]

It's a 2-man Con

Listen, I think I know a thing.

When Aziraphale comes back from talking to the Metatron and is telling Crowley about being an angel, we've all heard the theory that he's speaking code, trying to ask for help. The more I look at that scene, the more that theory tracks.

Maybe less well-known is the theory that Crowley didn't miss a damn thing, he's answering in his own code. And again, the more I look at that scene, the more this also tracks.

(When my husband, annoyingly observant beloved partner that he is, saw the second season for the first time, he said, "That whole thing was a show for the Metatron. They have a plan. Crowley slipped something to Aziraphale when he kissed him." And I said, "Nah." But now I think he's right, and damn if he isn't smug.)

I'm gonna try to break down what I think they're saying here, because it takes just a hot minute to piece it together. I've been thinking this over for a couple of months now. I think I have most of it. I just don't know when Crowley puts whatever he's handing to Aziraphale in his own mouth. I need more eagle-y eyes, it seems.

First, Aziraphale comes back from his talk. He's pensive as he crosses the road, and anxious when he starts talking, and mouths "I need help!" as he's talking. He's acting like he does when he lies to the other angels, and once it's seen "I need help!" is pretty clear.

He does the whole thing about telling Crowley he could appoint him as an angel, like old times, but even nicer. It's all very uptight and not positive at all. My interpretation? "The Metatron is here, I think he knows we're up to something, we have to go to Heaven right now and put things right before he really does something awful to one or both of us. The time to spring the plan is NOW."

Crowley stares at him. At first it seems like he's staring in disbelief, but if you really look at his face, he's listening, hard, and interpreting as fast as he can:

He asks Aziraphale if he told the Metatron where he could stick it, then. My interpretation? "The plan has changed. I can't go with you to Heaven. You'll have to go alone."

Then Crowley starts his confession -- "We've spent our existence pretending we aren't."

Aziraphale looks at him -- not with shock, or surprise, or love, or hope, but with a "Why are you doing this now?" face. Not "Why did you wait til now to tell me, you love me, oh, I love you too!" But "Why are you telling me SOMETHING I ALREADY KNOW while our ENEMY IS LISTENING??" :

He's confused, but also listening and interpreting. What I'm hearing/seeing: I don't think this is a love confession from our demon. I think they are both well aware they love one another. They can't say it in so many words, and it's a secret from Heaven and Hell, but it's not a secret between them. I'm hearing Crowley set the scene. "The Metatron either wants us together in Heaven under control, or separated. I have things I have to do here or the plan won't work, so we'll have to separate. We need to make it look good. I do love you."

I don't think Aziraphale likes this change of plan. And Crowley can't detail why the plan has changed, not with the Metatron listening. So Aziraphale insists, come with me. The plan we had will work. Do it my way. Crowley says, "You can't leave this book shop." It's easy to interpret that as "You can't leave me," but I don't think it's that. He's saying something about the book shop being safe, or even that he can't leave without whatever they've hidden in the book shop. (I THINK THEY HID SOMETHING IN THE BOOK SHOP!) Aziraphale says, "Nothing lasts forever." I hear him saying the book shop is no longer safe, and they have to move/take whatever they've hidden and they can't speak freely there anymore.

Crowley replies, "No I suppose it doesn't. Good luck." He's gotten that much, but he is still set on his "We need to fake a break up because I can't go with you."

Aziraphale still doesn't like that. "Come back! I need you!" He's scared. Whatever he has to do in Heaven is big, and scary, and he needs and wants Crowley with him. He does not want to go into the mouth of danger alone.

This is when we get, "No nightingales." What I'm hearing? ESPECIALLY since if you listen, you can hear a LARK sing as Crowley goes out the door? It's the line from Romeo and Juliet, by Shakespeare, whose plays they both enjoy, though Crowley prefers the funny ones. "It's too late, that's a lark singing the dawn, not a nightingale singing to the night, we have to part. Our happy ending isn't yet."

Then the kiss. I do not believe this is their first kiss. I don't believe they've allowed themselves many, maybe not even more than one, but I do think they've kissed before. I'm not sure when, but I suspect 1941. (Season 3, come ON!!)

And when they part, Aziraphale stops himself from saying "I love you," and instead says, "I forgive you." I'm hearing so many things in that "I forgive you." I forgive you for leaving me on my own, I forgive you for hurting my feelings like this, I forgive you for changing the plan without telling me, I forgive you because you are forgivable whatever anyone else says, I forgive you because that's what I said when we split up at the bandstand and everything was okay in the end and I hope hope hope that everything will be okay in the end this time too.

Crowley says, "Don't bother." I'm hearing, "yeah, I hope it's all okay, too. Wish me fuckin luck. My part will be hard, too."

And as Crowley leaves, Aziraphale mouths, "No." And we hear a lark sing. A lark, singing to the dawn, and so fair Romeo must away.

Just because the break up is a ruse, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and isn't hard. It has to look real, and so it's going to feel real, too. Ouch. :'(

And then Aziraphale touches his lips. Not once, but twice. My bad, he only touches his lips once. The first long second is pure emotion. "Why now, I hate this, I want that so badly and I can't have it."

After that, though --

After he pulls himself together a bit, he has a bulge in his cheek. He shifts his jaw to move whatever he has in his mouth to his lips, and then his first two fingers go stiff for a moment as he palms something right before he takes his hand away.

And then, this.

Edit to add: someone on Facebook asked me why a kiss to pass whatever Crowley gave to Aziraphale, why not palm it or drop it in his pocket?

My answers: 1. The kiss is a message. "We're still good, I still love you, I still want this." 2. The item is too important to be dropped in a pocket and hopefully found later. 3. The Metatron is paying WAY too close attention, and will definitely see them touch hands. Seeing a kiss and the angel rejecting the demon, though? Well, the demon forced that kiss on him, the angel didn't want it. Clearly the demon thinks this relationship is different than it is. It's a bigger gesture that sells the ruse. 4. Houdini's wife used to pass him the keys to his cuffs with a kiss before the show. This is a message that magic-loving Aziraphale WILL understand: here are the keys to your cuffs, sneaked to you by your beloved in plain sight.

That's it. That's what I got so far. I still have questions.

What did Crowley pass to Aziraphale? What's the plan? Why did it change? What does Crowley need to do that he can't go to Heaven again?

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part 7

Summary: Your friend "date" with Jungkook is interesting but thankfully the events from this morning don't prevent you from having a good time. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 3.8K (I'm sorry it's short but I wanted to get it out since it's been way too long) Warnings: No real warnings other than slightly jealous and possessive Jungkook (but we all know that's a good warning 🤭) a/n: It's been fucking four months I'm so sorry 😭 It's been so hard for me to update my series recently since my attention span literally sucks right now so one shots have been a lot easier to get out but hopefully some of you guys are still around to read this story 🥲 p.s. the last third of this isn't edited at all so please ignore any nonsense 😅

After Jungkook and I finally agree on an outfit for me to wear we head off to whatever mysterious location he's taking us to. 

"You gonna pout all the way there?" he teases, pointing out my crossed arms and legs and the fact that I haven't spoken to him since we left. "I told you I hate surprises" I grumble, the feeling of the unknown making me uncomfortable. 

"You've gotta live a little Darling" he teases and goes back to driving. He hands me his phone that's plugged into the aux as a sign for me to put on a playlist and that brings up my mood right away. He chuckles when he sees me put on my favorite song since he knows that music always lifts my spirits.

"You're never gonna get tired of this song are you?" he sighs, this being the twelfth time he's asked. "Nope" I answer, popping the 'p' at the end. "This song came out when you were two years old" he chuckles, trying to clue me in but I don't pay any mind to it. "All the more reason to like it!" I argue back and he shakes his head.

"Perfect Man by Shinhwa is a masterpiece and I will accept no arguments" I say, making my statement on the matter final. 

There's a quiet air that's hung between us for a couple moments before when both bust out laughing. "I swear we never fail to have the same conversation every time I play this song" I point out and he smiles.

"That's because I love watching you defend something with your whole being. It's cute" he says and my throat gets dry. 

This being the first semi flirty comment he's thrown at me since everything happened. Well, besides commenting on how I look because who wants to be told nothing after putting on a cute outfit, even when he's the one who's chosen it. 

His comments have been nothing but respectful so there's no harm in letting him do as he pleases but it's just making this whole friends ordeal a lot harder.

~~~~~~

As we pull up to the place he had kept a secret from me I realize why he had me wear this specific outfit since from the looks of it we've come to some sort of ropes course. 

"I've never been to one of these" I say, marveling at the zip lines, ropes, ladders and pulley systems that are strewn about this forested area.

"Do you wanna give it a try? We can always just go to the restaurant they have here but I thought I would still offer it since I told you I had something fun planned for us" he offers, leaving the choice up to me but I nod my head immediately, really wanting to try it out. 

"Yeah?" he chuckles when he sees my excitement grow. "Yes! Come on let's go!" I say, grabbing his hand and trying to drag him along.

"Wait a second Bunny" he chuckles, holding me back and I watch him as he opens the trunk and grabs a big hoodie for me to wear. "So we don't mess up that pretty little top you're wearing" he says and the playfulness around the statement making my heart skip a beat. 

"I could've brought my own" I say but he shakes his head in protest. "It's easier this way so you don't have to worry about it getting dirty, now arms up" he says and I furrow my brow. "Jungkook I can put it on myself" I laugh but he doesn't find it amusing. "I know, arms up" he orders and I do as he says, laughing at the no doubt comical sight of him struggling with it. 

"You know now that I think about it it's a lot easier to take your clothes off than it is to put them on" he casually says, making me wack him in the arm once the hoodie is on properly. "Friends Jungkook. Or I can go back to calling you Mr. Jeon" I say with an arched brow and he chuckles. "Friends" he agrees and closes the trunk.

"So can we go now?" I ask, glancing over at the course before looking back to him for approval. "Yes Bunny go ahead" he says, giving me the go ahead and following after me as I make a bee line for the equipment room. 

"Hi!" I say excitedly to the guy at the counter when it's my turn to check us in. "Hey, first time?" he chuckles, me looking around at everything with a childlike wonder in my eyes. "Yeah! I honestly didn't even know a place like this existed around here" I admit, Jungkook again taking me to a place I had never been before. 

I guess he really is determined to take all of my firsts. 

"Well I hope you'll come around more often then, there's a whole lot more to experience than just these ropes" he says and in my awestruck state I don't notice the suggestive tone behind his wording. 

"You find something you like?" he asks, my sight going past him and looking at all the harnesses. "I have a friend that's coming in a second so do you think you could get us two?" I ask while pointing at them. 

"Sure, is your friend as pretty as you are?" he asks and before I can even think of a response someone is interrupting our conversation. "I would think so" I hear a deep voice say behind me, his hand placed on my hip in a slight possessive manner making my breath hitch. 

The boy's eyes widen a bit, looking at the dynamic between the two of us and doesn't exactly know what to make of it and decides to go find harnesses for the both of us. 

"What was that?" I ask, whipping around and glaring up at him. "What? We agree to be friends for a little while and suddenly you're ready to jump ship?" Jungkook says, crossing his arms and watching as the boy not so casually glances over at us. 

"He was just being friendly" I scoff, knowing for a fact that he wasn't but playing into this oblivious act I had accidentally fallen into. "Right...friendly" he says in a monotone, not wanting to get into a senseless argument and taking the high road. I don't miss the way his hand balls into a fist for a second before relaxing it once I've decided to drag him over to look at the little souvenirs they have in the shop. 

"Alright here's a harness for you, and one for you sir." the employee says, a flirtatious tone in his voice when he addresses me and a more strict and professional voice when he addresses Jungkook. 

"Did you want some help putting that on?" the boy asks, clearly just taking it as a chance to get closer to me since Jungkook's slight display of possessiveness of me wasn't a big enough clue that we may...or may not be together. "Oh no that's okay, I'm sure you've got other things to do" I deny, stepping into it on my own and in true y/n fashion I end up tripping over one of the straps. 

"Careful Darling" Jungkook says, steadying me on my feet and when I look back over at the boy he's awkwardly frozen with his arms out, having intended to help me but decided against it since he was smart enough to realize that it might not be the smartest idea. 

I look between the boy and Jungkook and see how Jungkook hasn't stopped glaring at him no matter how uncomfortable the boy is. "Looks like you've got other customers to help" Jungkook says, nodding towards the people at the counter, clearly looking to check in just as we did. 

"Right, well let me know if you need anything" he responds, his focus completely on me as he relays his message. "I will" Jungkook jumps in and the boy nervously glances between the two of us before heading over to the counter and helping the group of four that just came in. 

"Was that really necessary?" I ask, my arms crossed over my chest as Jungkook tightens the harness on me, making sure I won't need any 'help' with it later. "He was trying way too hard and he clearly couldn't get a clue about us" he says, his glare still prevalent in his direction. 

"Jungkook there isn't an 'us' right now okay" I say and he sighs. "Keep on telling yourself that" he mumbles quite enough that I couldn't make it out when another crowd comes in. "What was that?" I ask but he quickly brushes it off and herds me out of the store before it gets even more crowded. 

As we wait for the group to now gather in the waiting area outside neither of us have spoken a word to each other, stealing glances every so often since we just can't help it. We're attracted to each other and from my point of view I don't think that's gonna change anytime soon. 

"Alright everyone can I get you all gathered over here?" that same guy from inside the shop calls out and we all do as he says with Jungkook cursing under his breath. "Fucking fantastic, he's our leader" he grumbles but I grab him by the arm and drag him so we can catch up with the group. 

"Come on I thought you said this was supposed to be fun" I say and he sighs, collecting himself and slowly changing his attitude. "Alright I'm sorry Darling" he says, not dragging his feet or sulking anymore and putting that nonsensical jealously out of his head...at least for right now. 

"Alright welcome welcome everyone to BranchBound Adventures! How's everyone doing today?" he asks and we all let out cheers of excitement but what I don't notice is the way that Jungkook looks at me with a soft smile when he realizes again how much I'm loving this already. He takes a mental note to bring me here again soon so he can watch that same childlike excitement bloom again. 

"Excellent, looks like we've got a fun group here today! Well my name is Jayson and this is Kimberly and we're gonna be your BranchBound Buddies, sound good?" he says and I can't ignore the way Jungkook snorts at the title they've been given but it's only loud enough for me to hear thankfully. 

"Behave!" I scold, not wanting to turn this into some sort of immaturity contest when he knows damn well he's a grown ass adult and he should not be acting like this. He holds his hands up in surrender when he sees my glare but can't help but smirk at the fact that Jayson as we've recently found out his name is watching our exchange. 

As the day goes by and we're close to the end of our little ropes course adventure Jayson decides it's now or never and decides to make another move. 

"You've done a great job today! Didn't know you would be so good with ropes" he says, not hiding the fact that he's probably imagining using these ropes on me in a completely different context. "Yeah I didn't know I would be either" I chuckle and look over and see Jungkook glaring daggers into Jayson's forehead while he hooks me up to the zip line.

"Did you want to go nice and slow or fast?" he asks, his eyes drinking me in but I don't pay him any mind as I just watch the way that Jungkook is reacting to our exchange. "Y/n?" Jayson asks, breaking me out of the trance I had been lost in, thinking about what Jungkook would do to me after this if we were together. 

"Sorry what?" I ask and I can tell that he's pretty much starting to get the memo at this point. "Nothing, just tuck your legs in close to you if you want to go faster" he explains and I nod my head and wait while Jungkook gets hooked up to the other line thats parallel to mine. 

"Wanna race?" I challenge him since I know he would never back down from one. "What do I get if I win?" he says with a smirk.

"Whatever you want..." I say nervously and I have a feeling I'm going to regret that. "...but I want ice cream if I win!" I say to wipe away the tension but he brings it right back with his claim if he wins.

"I want a kiss" he says and when he clearly sees the way that I'm gearing up to protest a simple cock of his brow silences that. "You said that I could have anything I want right?" he asks I sigh and nod, my energy to go back on my word dissipating. 

It's just one kiss right?

"Deal" I agree and he can't hold back the smile and vote of confidence it gives him. "Get ready to lose" he says and before I have a chance to argue back Kimberly is counting us off and in my semi scattered state Jungkook takes off before me giving him a ten second head-start. 

"No fair!" I call after him when I'm finally able to catch up and he let's out a hearty laugh. "You're the one who proposed this whole race Bunny" he says making me look away, 'his timing with that nickname is always impeccable', I think to myself as I hide my blush.

"Hurry up!" I hear him call out as he is suddenly a lot further down the line than I am. "Hey!" I laugh, deciding to put that thought away to not sour my mood and just focus on there here and now. 

Once I finally get to the end Jungkook has already gotten unhooked from the zip line and is standing victorious waiting to claim his prize. 

"You only won because you're taller than me" I grumble as if I'm actually upset that he won when in fact the thought of him putting in effort just to kiss me make my heart beat faster. "I thought smaller things were supposed to be more aerodynamic" he teases in response but I huff and stand in front of him, clearly waiting for him to claim his reward. 

"I didn't say when I was going to kiss you" he teases and walks away and back toward the shop where we had first come from since our time is up. "Hey!" I protest again, not liking the slight embarrassment he caused me. 

"Oh come on you'll be okay" he teases as he takes his harness off and then helps me out of mine after. "Whatever" I huff and something behind me catches his eye and before I'm able to turn around he's knocking me off my feet and giving me a rather over exaggerated kiss if you ask me to the point that people are whistling and hyping us up.

I hit on his chest when I'm finally running out of air and he carefully puts me back on my feet and when I catch the sight of Jayson staring at us with an unreadable expression on his face I know now why he did that. 

"You're insufferable" I huff and fix my rumbled clothes from his breathless kiss but he doesn't seem bothered in the slightest. "Interesting response after receiving a kiss that made you blush but I'll take it" he shrugs and we both head back into the gift shop for the last time so Jungkook can no doubt flaunt the fact that from Jayson's point of view we're together. 

Honestly I could care less and I won't deny that it was hot as fuck watching him get angry with the very minimal interactions Jayson and I had but I won't let him have that satisfaction. "Didn't realize you were so insecure" I taunt and make sure his eyes are on me before I look over to where Jayson is still clearly watching us and give him a flirty wave goodbye with Jungkook hurrying to usher me out. 

"I wouldn't be insecure if you were mine already so until then you'll have to be patient with me" he says through gritted teeth, a reaction I was hoping for from that little stunt I pulled. "I can manage" I say and walk off towards the only restaurant here where I'm sure he was planning on taking me and when he follows me and has a hand placed low on my waist to guide me there my suspicions are confirmed. 

"Reservation for Jeon" he says to the host at the front desk and while he looks for it Jungkook's demeanor is a little softer, that soft maturity coming back from having us in a controlled and relaxed environment. "Right this way Mr and Mrs. Jeon" the host says and I practically choke on air at that, the title mistakenly given to me sending my heart into overdrive. 

"Don't worry she's fine, come on Honey" Jungkook reassures the waiter as Jungkook encourages me along to follow him to our table. 

Once we're seated our waiter comes by immediately to bring us water since I had clearly caused enough of a spectacle to garner a hurried solution for my coughing fit. He gives us our menus as well soon after and leaves us be, allowing me some more space to compose myself. 

Jungkook can't hide the smile he's had since my reaction had started and has turn slightly smug at seeing the blush it had caused me. "Shut up" I grumble and take another gulp of water having traded his glass for mind since I had practically drank mine in one go after that. 

"I didn't say anything" he chuckles leaving me glaring at him. "But your face did" I say after having put my almost empty glass back down on the table. "Oh yeah? And what is it saying now?" he asks, leaning forward as if he was giving me a better look at it. 

"It's saying that you're enjoying the fact that I'm still squirming over the thought of being called Mrs. Jeon" I say and he sits back, proud of my intuition. "Impressive Bunny. Better get used to it though" he says cockily and I narrow my eye at him and scoff. 

"You're pretty confident for someone I technically haven't agreed to date" I say but his smirk widens before throwing out a playful 'Yet' and our waiter is back at our table before I have a chance to argue back. 

After the waiter has taken our order and a little while after is bringing out our food our conversations have gone back to what had been seen as normal for us. A slight flirty edge to his words which I not so subtly glare at in response always making him chuckle but it's getting harder and harder for me to want to do that.

Why should I scold him? It's not like I don't want him too...

As we finish up the day with the ice cream I technically did not earn we start to make our way back to his car where he opens the door for me and make it a point to put on my seatbelt so I can still enjoy the cone I'm almost finished with. 

"Thanks Dad" I tease after he's buckled me in like a child and I'm granted a sarcastic smile in return only making me smile harder. He closes the door and gets in on his side and soon we're on our way back to the house...

~~~~~

The ride back is quiet, comfortable but quiet with the only sound being the hum of my playlist coming through the speaker and the gusts of cool air coming through the vents but it's soon broken by the question he's been wanting to ask. 

"Did you have fun?" it's a simple question but I know thoughts of what had happened earlier today are coming back to him as we get closer and closer to the house. "I did, a lot actually. You're not too shabby at planning dates" I confirm and he glances over with a smirk. 

"I thought this wasn't a date?" he counters and I chuckle. "It wasn't until you kissed me" I say and he shakes his head. "A kiss equals a date, got it" he says quietly, tucking that information into his back pocket and I can't help but smile as I see a soft one still rests on his lips. 

~~~~

When we finally pull into the driveway and he turns off the engine I hold onto his arm for a second, asking him to stay in the car for a second so he does and sits back and keeps his eyes on me, waiting for what I have to say.

The thing is is that I don't know what to say, I don't even know why I asked him to stay in here but he just watches me fondly, not rushing anything and waiting patiently for me. 

"I don't think we can be friends" I say, looking down at my lap so I can't see the expression he has on his face. "What do you mean by that Bunny?" he asks, that nickname making my heart skip a beat like it does every time and I shake my head, still looking down at my lap. "I mean, I don't wanna be friends" I say hoping he'll understand and when he lifts my chin I expect him to ask me to explain what I mean but instead I'm met with his lips on mine.

They're not full of passion or lust or anything of the sort. Just pure longing and understanding, understanding of the want to go about things at my own pace, an understanding that he's okay with going slow and that's all I need. 

"We can go slow" he says after we've broken the kiss, audibly confirming what he had physically displayed and I bite back a smile and nod before placing a soft kiss on his lips. 

"Thank you" I whisper and he pulls away to get a better look at me. "Whatever for?" he asks in such a cute way I can't help but laugh. "For not forcing me or making me feel bad about my indecision" I say and he smiles and cups my face, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone, a sad smile on his face at the thought of what I might've gone through with Jared that would require that sense of relief from his actions. 

"I'm sorry about this morning" I say even softer this time and he nods, "I know" and those two words bring me comfort in ways that he couldn't understand even if I told him.

I was scared shitless that I had messed things up, that I had done something that could've damaged us beyond repair but his words and actions from today told me nothing of the sort. 

His maturity shows that he knows what he wants and I want to open up and show him that in return...but I just hope I won't regret it.

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[asvtrials]

Hate that I want you

Hate that i want you      masterlist

part one      next part idea: @floydsfae tags: @ilovejeansosomuch. @spikedfearn (inspired by) summary: Parting ways with a friend group was always hard, somehow trying to rejoin that group was even harder. Especially when a particular quick-tempered someone is rather bitter about your choices. warnings/tags: lots of swearing. friends to enemies to lovers. Bjorn is a bitter and jealous shit. angst a/n: I'm not very familiar with the Alien franchise so forgive me if there are any inaccuracies. This is my first Tumblr post and I'm not used to writing in the second-person narrative so sadly this is not my best work but I still hope you like it. English is not my first language so please be nice. word count: 2394

“Fuck no.” That was your only answer before you covered yourself with your blanket and sank even deeper into your messy bed.

“Come on, Y/n!.” The muffled voice of your friend, Kay reached your ears under the blanket before she started to pull it away from you.

“Leave me alone.” You whined while trying to hold onto the covers until eventually Kay gave up

She sighed and sat next to you on the bed. “This is gonna be good for us.” She tried to reason. “You think that idiot was your way out? This is the way out.! She shook you a bit under the covers to make sure you were actually listening.

You rolled over, unsure if she actually believed in this nonsense or was that desperate to leave Jackson’s Star. You wouldn’t blame her if she was.

You stared at her for a long moment, brows furrowed. “Who had this idea in the first place?” You asked, surprised that anyone would think this would work.

“Tyler and Navarro. They said they pick-”

“Tyler and Navarro? Damn, they are really getting desperate.” You cut her off with a scoff.

“So, are you,” Kay added.

You couldn’t deny it.

You were tired. Tired of living the same day over and over again. Wake up at 6 am to the same darkness that followed you the entire day, get ready by 6:30 am, and begin your walk to the bus station to take the overcrowded bus that drove all of the workers to the mines.

Thankfully you were able to be transferred to the kitchen, away from the cramped caves. And as sad as it sounded, that was the only good thing that happened to you in a while.

You didn’t know if it was that or the resentful feeling of your fresh breakup but you let Kay pull you out of your bed and push you into the shower. You just knew you wanted to change this overwhelming routine of the past two months.

As soon as you got dressed, the girl led you through the busy, dimply-lit streets and toward an alleyway where the rest of the crew would wait for you.

You didn't know how to feel about this reunion. You haven't really seen them in a while, spending most of your time with your now ex-boyfriend. You were surprised they even included you in this ‘mission’. You figured it was probably Kay and Tyler, possibly Navarro too.

You turned around and were greeted by the figures of your old friends, Tyler and Bjorn.

When they met your nervous stare, you noticed Tyler’s expression mirrored yours even if it was for a split second. He quickly concealed his uncertainty with a smile that reached his eyes.

“Hey, Y/n. How have you been?” Tyler chuckled and pulled you into a hug, startling you a bit but soon enough you returned the affection

“Fine, I guess—” You began but before you could continue a different voice echoed in the empty alleyway, accent thick and tone dripping with accusation.

“We weren’t sure if you'd bless us with your ladyship.”

Of course, it was no other than Bjorn who would make a comment like this. He earned a glare from Tyler but he just shrugged s as if he was just making conversation.

An annoyed smile tugged at your lips as you spoke “Seems like you didn't change. Like at all.”

Bjorn ignored your comment and turned to Kay. “If she's all caught up, we should go.”

You raised your eyebrow at the way he brushed you off but you decided to let it go. “What about Navarro, Rain, and Andy?” You asked.

“Navarro’s fixing some other parts of the ship and Rain is—” Tyler paused for a moment, sending a glance at his half-sister. You followed his eyes but Kay just smiled at you “Busy with her job,” Tyler ended up saying.

“Is Rain all right?” You asked, chuckling a bit at their failed attempt to cover the truth.

“You’d know if you weren’t too busy snogging your boyfriend every chance you got,” Bjorn remarked with a smug smirk. You could feel your blood boiling at the mention of your ex.

“Bjorn! We talked about this.” Tyler warned the boy but he just scoffed.

“What? She was gone for two months and now acts all worried! That’s a load of bollocks!” He argued, gesturing towards you with a huff.

“Oh, fuck off, Bjorn!” You raised your voice over Tyler who was about to cuss his cousin out. This was already hard enough but having Bjorn act like a massive asshole wasn’t something you were going to sit through.

You did abandon them. You were a bitch, and a bad friend, and whatever this asshat wanted to call you but you didn’t need to hear it, especially from Bjorn out of all people.

You just wanted to have a better life, at least as good as it could get in this shitty colony. A future to look forward to and Noa made it look possible. He had ambition and connections and could easily get a better job than most of the Jackson Star residents. At the time you were stupid enough to believe that he wouldn’t drop you. Yet, as soon as he bagged a job in the ‘Office of Colony Affairs’ he dumped you because, in his words, you had ‘different life goals.’

Fuck. And fuck him, and Bjorn and whoever dared to call you a whore or an opportunist. All of you had the same life goals, get the fuck out of here. That’s why you were here. As crazy as this plan sounded, at least you would be doing something to get away from this place.

“I’m not going to apologize for wanting something better for myself!” You snapped.

Bjorn ran his tongue over his teeth, letting out a low chuckle to hide his irritation “So you dropped everyone to get that.” He stated before he met your eyes once more. You didn’t know what you saw in his gaze but it wasn’t simply anger.

“I didn’t drop any of you!” You began, throwing your hands in frustration. “I kept in touch with Kay and Navarro. I asked about all of you! If you weren’t such a dick you’d realize that you made it difficult to talk to you!”

Bjorn remained quiet as if he was trying to come up with a comeback. He tore his gaze away from you when he turned around and mumbled “Whatever.”

“We should really get going now,” Kay spoke nervously, more to Tyler than anyone else.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Tyler agreed noticeably glad that the fight would come to an end, for now at least.

You sent Bjorn one last glare before following Kay and Tyler, but he didn't look all that affected.

The walk to the abandoned warehouse was rather long. A couple of years ago it was busy with workers and clients, mostly to buy components for mining haulers and gear. But right now it was collecting dust and vines so it was the perfect place to get some forgotten parts and tools.

Tyler helped Kay jump over the tall fence while you and Bjorn were already on the other side. You smiled at the sweet moment between the siblings trying to ignore the panging feeling in your chest.

You tried to ignore the intense need you had to glance at the boy next to you but you couldn’t help it. His gaze was fixated on the tall building, holding the cigarette between his fingers. You tried to push away the bitter feeling that cursed through you.

It wasn’t that long ago that he helped you the same way, finding any excuse to feel your skin under his fingertips.

But that was just a childish game you two developed. Flirting jokingly, touching a bit more than necessary to see the other’s cheeks redden and hear your friends groan in disgust. Both of you comfortably balanced on the rope between friendly banter and romantic curiosity.

When both Kay and Tyler landed on the other side of the fence, you began walking toward the building.

You stepped inside and an aerie breeze hit you, from the way Kay started to rub her shoulders you guessed the rest felt the same.

“Bloody hell…” Bjorn mumbled as he walked to the front desk which was covered in dust and some dead bugs.

“Yeah, that’s nasty.” Kay agreed, keeping close to you and Tyler.

“I’ll go check the first floor, someone should check the second,” Tyler announced the plan, staring at the sketch of the parts Novarro drew him.

The group was surrounded by silence, the four of you looking at each other awkwardly until Kay decided to make it easier for all of you. “I can go with Bjorn.” She said cheerily trying to ignore the tension.

“Good, Y/n we’ll go together” Tyler nodded toward you and started walking up the stairs.

Bjorn's loud voice stopped both of you in your tracks. Bjorn tried to sound uninterested even amused as he spoke “I see, you act all tough yet can’t even spend five minutes alone with me. Scared I’ll hurt your feelings, innit?” The way those last words fell out of his lips in such a pitying manner really struck a nerve.

You knew what he was doing. He was baiting you. You saw him do it to everyone, although you weren’t sure if Andy even could understand that he did it just to annoy him.

Still, you weren’t one to give him the satisfaction. You let out a dry chuckle as you rolled your eyes. “Bjorn and I are going to check the second floor” You declared, not bothering to turn around.

“I can go with Y/n?” Kay tried to intervene but neither you nor Bjorn listened as you walked up the stairs.

“Remember, in and out! Be quick.” You heard Tyler’s voice bounce off the walls as you continue your path to the second floor, Bjorn hot in your trail.

You entered a room as soon as you reached the second floor. By the numerous boxes and shelves filled with dirty items, this was clearly one of the storage rooms

“You search the right side, I'll search the left side,” You said when you noticed Bjorn still walking behind you.

“Don’t tell me what to do” He quickly retorted.

You let out an exasperated sigh and walked to the right side instead, ignoring his snarkiness.

Neither of you talked for a long while, putting equipment that seemed useful in your bags or simply looking through the dusty machinery.

Bjorn was the first to break the uncomfortable silence “So how are things with your boyfriend.” You didn’t miss the way his tone changed to a mocking one at the word ‘boyfriend’ but you chose to ignore it.

You stayed quiet for a moment, not sure if you wanted to answer. “We don’t have to talk.”

“Come on, I’m trying to be nice.” He spoke over the loud noise of his hand rummaging through some drawers and you could practically hear his smirk.

A groan managed to slip past your lips before you said “We broke up.”

You heard Bjorn’s movements come to a halt momentarily followed by a breathy laugh. “Can’t say I'm surprised you dumped that twat.”

You remained silent once again only saying a drawn-out “Yeah”

“Wait a fucking minute.” Bjorn laughed, walking closer to you, a smug smirk spreading on his face “He dumped you!”

The amusement in his voice made your anger flare up once again causing your face to contort in irritation but you tried to ignore it and just get the job done, practically slamming the drawer shut.

“Why did he dump you? Did he find someone that matched his status? He did get promoted to a whole-ass desk job” He snorted.

You tried to be calm, you really did but all of it was so recent “Can you just shut the fuck up for once in your life?” You exploded, making his eyes leave the shelves and focus on you. “Is it really so funny that I was dumped?”

Bjorn stared at you for a long moment, before turning to continue searching. Obviously not without a sarcastic comment. “It’s funny that he dumped you but sorry, didn’t know you were so in love.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose to try and keep your cool. “As if you know what love is?” You tried to keep your voice from shaking with anger.

Bjorn met your scowl once again but to your surprise, his expression didn’t match yours. Unlike yours, his eyes didn’t hold any rage but something that made you unable to look away as he moved closer to you, looming above you.

“I know you two weren’t.” The low tone in his voice had you breathless for a moment.

Does it even matter if you loved Noa? Falling in love was never the point.

“You don’t know anything” You spat out, your voice as intense.

He raised his eyebrow at your words, staring down into your eyes “Really?” He dragged out the word. “You were in love with that asshat? You really want me to believe that?”

“I don’t care what you believe, that’s none of your fucking business.” You bit back, taking a step closer. You wanted to remain unbothered by how the corner plush lips tugged up but the warmth that spread through your cheeks was impossible to ignore.

“You’re not answering my question.” The almost gentleness in his voice quickly disappeared as he laughed, his breath hitting your face. His fingers slowly reached up to flick a strand of your hair mockingly.

You were about to slap away his hand when you heard Kay’s voice from the corridor.

“Guys, where are you?” She shouted.

“Uh—we’re here Kay” You yelled back, stepping back from Bjorn. You really didn’t notice how close you two were standing.

Soon enough Kay’s figure appeared in the doorframe.

“Glad to see you didn’t kill each other” She joked. “We found the thing Navarro needed, we can go.” She announced.

You hated how your eyes met Bjorn’s even if it was for a second, and you hated the feeling that erupted in your stomach even more.

[softbeomiii]

The Return of Superman - CBG

Tomorrow X Together's Choi Beomgyu as dad!gyu in The Return of Superman show pairing: dad!gyu x reader genre: fluff word count: 1,538

a/n: not proofread, it's been a while since i wrote something. this is based on my long time favorite au from wattpad; The Return Of Superman - BTS by Nitaescence it's also available here in tumblr i love that au so much, and it's been years since i've been thinking of creating one for txt. i hope you guys would like this one. *...* : sentences edited on the final image / commentators' comments BOLD : cameras' position in the house or outside Italics : dialogues /.../ : time (...) : sound effects [...] : camera movements Includes interviews as well

BUILDING

/10:47 AM/

LIVING-ROOM/FRONT DOOR/KITCHEN/PLAYROOM

*It's late in the morning, but you can spot no one*

(giggles) [camera pans - Front Door] Two little boys enter the house.  *Where did these kids came from?*

Both stops on their tracks, noticing a tent with a camera in it. *Frozen* They stare blankly at it and starts giggling moving closer to the camera. *Why hello!* [camera focuses on the kid wearing a dark green pajama set] *His name is Hajoon* "Let's go!" Hajoon pulls the younger one who's busy making funny faces in front of the camera. [freezes - the younger one’s funny face] *This must be Hanjae*

KITCHEN

(uh oh) *Looks like someone's stealing snacks*

[Pan - kitchen entrance] *Someone's coming* *Hurry boys* “Hurry up Hanjae! Dad will wake up soon!” Hanjae closes the drawer and hands the biscuit to the other. *These kids have no idea what's waiting for them* (screams) *What happened?* "It was Hanjae!" "It was Hajoon!” Both said in unison. [slow pan - kitchen entrance] Someone is already leaning against the counter, arms cross. *Who is it?* [Tilt and freezes] *It's Tomorrow X Together's Choi Beomgyu* 

Beomgyu: Hi, my name is Beomgyu. I'm the father of 57-month-old twins: Choi Hajoon and Choi Hanjae. Nice to meet you! *Woah twins!* (amusement)

*Choi Beomgyu is a famous singer-songwriter. Aside from that he is also well know as the moodmaker of a KPOP group called TomorrowXTogether.*  [pictures/videos of him performing with the members in concerts and shows] *He's also pretty well-known in the industry for being funny without trying* [videos of him in variety/reality shows]

"Why were the kids outside early in the morning?" Beomgyu: They had a sleepover at Soobin. It was his turn that weekend. "Is his house just near?" Beomgyu: The members decided to live in one village and we own a street here. So the houses are relatively side by side. Plus it's a corner street, so we don't worry much about running cars.

LIVING-ROOM

Kids ran and slams themselves in the sofa. *What are they up to now?* Beomgyu follows and sits on the floor, facing the twins. *Looks like dad is gonna scold someone* "How many times do we have to tell you to ask permission first?" Beomgyu asks the kids who's trying their very best to sit properly. "Dad, we're really hungry." Hajoon answers. Hanjae holds Hajoon’s little hands. [camera zooms at their hands] (Aww) "Right and you chose the ones covered in chocolate. Hand it over." The kids hand it over while pouting.  "Next time ask, okay? Hajoon you should be looking out for Hanjae being the eldest. Now stop fussing and let's make breakfast. We dont want to wake mom up." Beomgyu.

The twins follow him and starts prepping the table. "I want noodles!" Hanjae. "I want steak!" Hajoon. Beomgyu looks back to see his twins giggling. *They’re very fond of their dad* "This is not a restoraunt." He exclaims as exaggerated as he can do, causing the twins to laugh. *So cute!*

KITCHEN /11:24 AM/ (door closes)

[zooms at the twins] Both of their heads turn towards the noise. "MOM!" *They're suddenly out of frame(laugh)* [camera pans to the newly arrived person] *Y/N looks so pretty in the morning* “Good morning.” Y/N goes to Beomgyu and gives him a kiss. (aww) "Mom! Me too!" Hajoon. *Someone's jealous* "Okay, okay." Y/N then kisses the twins’ cheeks. "Boys please settle down, we dont want to disturb the baby." Beomgyu. *Baby?* (Surprise)

Y/N: We've always wanted to have two kids: a girl and a boy. And we didn't expect to have twins during the first time. Beomgyu and I still wants a little girl, so we're trying.

[Freeze frame and zooms on Y/N's baby bump] *Currently, Y/N is 4-months-old pregnant* (amusement)

"Take a seat so we can eat." Beomgyu then places the food on the table. [zooms on the dishes] *Those look delicious*

"Aren't you known to not cook in the dorm?" Beomgyu: (laugh) Y/N's pregnancy this time made her have bad morning sickness that she needs to lie down for hours. Cooking is the least that I could do to lessen her load. *What a sweet and thoughtful husband*

/12:58 PM/

LIVING-ROOM

Beomgyu's lying in Y/N's lap while they watch the kids trying to enter the tent. "Yohan! Both of you and Yves will give the cameraman a hard time. Go to another tent." Y/N. *Yohan?* *Yves?*

Beomgyu: Those are the kids' English names. We try our best to make the kids speak both English and Korean as early as possible. Yohan is the eldest while Yves is the youngest.

"Are you sure you wont just stay at home during filming?" Beomgyu. "We don't want the kids to focus on me Beomi. It's your time to have fun without me. Plus mom's {beomgyu's} gonna accompany me while i'm not at home." "But I don't want to be away from you." *Dad sure is clingy* (laugh)

(door bell) (kids' scream)

The twins ran to the front door and Beomgyu follows through.  [camera's trying to focus]  *Who is it?*

"Uncle Yeonjun!" *Oh! It's Yeonjun* Yeonjun hugs the twins. "Let's go, the kids are already at the park." Yeonjun then looks Beomgyu from head to toe. "Yah! Why aren't you changed yet? Hurry up! Today's picnic." Beomgyu walks towards the bedroom, scratching his head, to change. While Yeonjun went to the living-room to make sure Beomgyu doesn't take so much time. *That still didn't change. They still bicker (laugh)* "Hey Junnie! Desserts in the fridge, sit down. I'll get it first." Y/N went to the kitchen to get the dessert. Beomgyu went out of the room right on time. He poses in front of Y/N hoping for compliments [camera pans from head to toe] (shalala) *Dad looks pretty* "Are you coming Y/N?" Yeonjun asks while side eyeing Beomgyu who isn't fazed by his pose. "Nope! Gonna savor the peace and quiet without my 3 kids." (shatters) Y/N then hands the apple pie to Beomgyu and pats his back. That remark made Yeonjun laugh and a pouty Beomgyu exits the house. *The kids surely do look like their dad: physical attributes and personality*

/1:23 PM/

PARK

[camera pans the whole area]  *The park looks empty* (confuse) *Are they the only people in the park?* Beomgyu places the pie on the table and sits beside Taehyun. 

The twins are already at the sandpit burying something. *What could it be?* [zooms at the mystery treasure] *It looks like someone's eyeglasses*

"Dad! Did you saw my eyeglasses?" (Uh oh) *flashback to the mystery treasure* "Jiyoon! The twins are at it again!" *New kids arrives* *Who are they?*

[camera tilts to the parents at the table] "This is what you call karma." Soobin comments and sips on his juice. Everyone at the table laughs at Soobin’s comment. “It’s your kid’s eyeglasses, you know?” Hueningkai. *Jiyoon is Soobin's daughter?* (excitement) [shows Jiyoon] *She does look like her dad* “Well, lucky for her to be friends with the twins.” Soobin.  *He wants his kid to experience the same thing he’s experienced with Beomgyu (laugh)*

SANDPIT

An angry Jiyoon walks towards the twins with Minjun laughing beside her. *Looks like this is a normal occurrence* “My eyeglass.” Jiyoon places her little hand in front of the twins. [camera freezes at her hand] *Little angry hands* “Jiyoon. Don’t be angry.” Hanjae stands up and pats Jiyoon’s back. [flashback to Y/N patting Beomgyu's back] *This one looks like mom* *Jiyoon is now frowning* “We don’t remember where we buried it.” (Uh oh) Hajoon pats his hands on his pants. He suddenly raises his hand and gestures 3. *What could this mean?* “Minjun! Get the shovel!” Minjun rans to the parent’s table to get what was asked.

[camera follows a running Minjun] “Dad! We need the shovels!” Minjun excitedly told Yeonjun. *Oh! It's Yeonjun's son* *We should have known, he looks exactly like him* “Not again.” Despite that, Yeonjun still hands the shovel. *Parents aren’t even fazed*

[camera focuses on the sandpit] (crow) *Where do they even begin?* “This is why you should atleast put something to remind you where you hide things.” Jiyoon scolds Hajoon. “We really didn’t mean to lose it this time!” Hanjae peers hiding behind Hajoon. “That’s what you said last time though?” Mijun hands out the shovel.

/2:16 PM/

“FOUND IT!” (Excitement) *Hardwork pays off* [camera focuses at the kids] *Did they roll around the sandpit?* The kids are jumping off the excitement walking towards the table. “Took you guys long to find it this time.” Taehyun commented. “They buried 3 things in the sandpit today.” Jiyoon replied while trying to sit beside her dad. The twins follows and tries to sit beside Beomgyu. “Guess it’s more fun babysitting than having one who acts and looks like you huh?” Kai jokes that made everyone laugh. 

Beomgyu: (sigh) The kids are really a blessing. It’s just that there’s two of them, so it’s times 2 the effort of getting someone’s attention.

[camera focuses at Hajoon and Hanjae] *Someone’s tired* “We should head back now, the twins are already on the verge of sleeping.” Beomgyu carries the twins in each of his arms. Everyone bids goodbye and heads home.

End of Day 1

[cjlouwho]

Uncle Eddie- Part 6

Thirteen and Three Months- read below or on ao3

Eddie thought he was hearing things the first time he heard a knocking sound. He paused the TV and listened for a few seconds. He was just about to resume his show when there was another knock, clearer this time.

With a sigh, he got up from the couch and headed for the door. He opened it expecting a delivery person or solicitor. What he did not expect was to see Juniper, all five feet of her, standing at his door.

Looking very unhappy, no less.

“Che- Juniper?” he questioned, changing the name quickly. She had informed him on her thirteenth birthday that she was too old to be called Chewy, and would prefer to only go by Juniper or Junie from now on.

Boy, did that ever hurt like hell. He'd never tell her that though.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. He looked past her, out toward the driveway to see if Buck or Tommy were there. “Where's your dads?”

“Can I come in?” Before he had a chance to answer she was pushing past him and into the house, plopping down on the couch.

He closed the door, then turned to her, folding his arms over his chest. “Juniper?” he started again. “Where are your dads?”

She let out her breath in a huff, rolling her eyes. “They're at home.”

“Then how are you here?”

She looked over at him, an annoyed expression on her face. “Uber. Duh.”

The attitude was a new feature that came along with Juniper turning thirteen. One day she was this precious girl who wanted hugs from anyone and everyone in her family, the next she was endlessly embarrassed by them.

It'd been a tough transition for everyone.

Eddie stepped closer to Juniper. “Do your dads know you're here, Junie?”

“Eddie,” she said, too cool to say 'uncle' now too, “I needed to get away for a while.”

“That doesn't answer my question. Do they know you're here?”

Another eye roll. She picked up the remote and clicked on the guide button, scrolling to see what was on. “I don't know,” she admitted.

“Oh, what the hell, Juniper?” Eddie pulled his phone from his pocket and went to Buck's name, Juniper tossing the remote and jumping up before he could call.

“Wait, don't!” She exclaimed. “Please, I- I wrote a note so they wouldn't worry.”

He stared at her, unimpressed. “What'd the note say?”

“I- I said I needed some time away and I'd come back when I was ready. I told them not to call the police or anything, that I was fine.”

“You wrote a runaway note?! They're probably going insane, Juniper! Did you at least leave your location on?”

The way she looked down, avoiding eye contact, told him everything he needed to know.

He shook his head. “Sit back down, I'm calling your dads.” He turned away from her, phone to his ear, but quickly looked back while the phone rang. “I swear to God,” he warned, “if you even try to leave this house while I'm on the phone, I will staple your dress to the couch. Do not test me, young lady.”

Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “O- Okay.”

She sat as still as a statue as Eddie spoke to Buck on the phone.

“Buck, hey- no, wait, Buck, I know she's... Buck. Buck! Juniper's here with me... Yeah, she took an Uber... Deep breaths, Man, she's okay... I know... I know... I know... I know... Can you give it like half an hour? Yeah, okay. Bye.”

“Okay.” Eddie said once he returned, sitting on the other side of the couch. He grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “Talk.”

She picked up a pillow and put it over her lap, picking at a loose thread. “Nothing to say.”

“You come here after running away from home just to shrug and tell me there's nothing to say? Uh-uh. Your dads are a nervous wreck right now. I thought your dad was gonna have a heart attack on the phone. You are going to talk to me.”

She groaned, pursed her lips for a moment before speaking. “I wanted to go to this big party. It's like the biggest party of the school year. All of my friends are going and I asked Dad and he said no, so I went to Pops, and he said no.”

“And that led to you running away from home?”

“No,” she replied pointedly. “I told them instead of going to the party that I was going to go over to Stacey's house and have a sleepover with her. That was fine with them.”

“Then you went to the party?”

“Of course,” she shrugged. “But Dad found out I was lying, and he and Pops both showed up to the party, Eddie,” Juniper whined, “and they made me leave. It was so embarrassing! I thought I would die.”

“Mm. Your dads have let you go to parties before. Why not this one?”

“I don't know. They hate me.”

“Yeah, okay. Real answer time. Come on, spill.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “It's a high school party.”

“You're in seventh grade.”

“I know! That's why getting to go was so cool! See, Rachel is in my class, and it's her older brother Joey's party. He's a sophomore, Eddie, and he was letting Rachel invite everyone! It could have changed. My. Life.”

“I highly doubt that. Besides it being a high school party, why else wouldn't they let you go?”

“They want me to be a social outcast,” she replied, tossing back her curly brown hair.

“The truth, Juniper.”

“Ugh, fine! S- So Rachel and Joey's parents have this rule, or whatever. They don't care if you drink as long as you're under their roof. I wasn't drinking, I swear!” She added quickly. “But dads knew about it and that's why they wouldn't let me go, so they claim.”

“You know this lovely attitude you've had lately has just been so much fun,” Eddie said, wishing more than anything he could go back in time and deal with Juniper's obnoxious catchphrases instead of teenage angst. “You ever think your dads have a good reason for saying no?”

“Because they hate me.”

“Or because they've seen firsthand how wrong these parties can go.”

“Oh God,” she dropped her head back against the couch. “Not another work horror story.”

“Hey, sit up and listen to me,” Eddie demanded, sick of the attitude. “You're the one who decided to run away to my house, so you're gonna hear what I have to say.”

She hesitated, then raised her head and looked over at him. “Fine. I'll listen.”

“We had a call, not too long ago. A high school party with about a hundred or so kids. We get there and there's this kid, fourteen years old, that fell over a balcony. Reeked of cheap tequila. Your dad performed CPR on him for nearly ten minutes, felt his ribs break under his palms as he tried to get his heart to start beating again. I had to end up pulling him off the boy.”

“That sucks, but-”

“I'm not done. Someone had called the kid's parents, and they arrived right after he'd been pronounced. They were an absolute wreck. Screaming, crying, yelling. After it was over, when we got back to the station, I found your dad in the locker room crying. Said all he could think about was that it could've been you laying there. I ended up calling your Papa to come pick him up and take him home.”

Juniper went to open her mouth, but Eddie held up a finger to stop her. “I know thinking you're invincible is kinda a prerequisite for being a teenager, but you're not. When your dads say no, there's a reason, even if you don't understand it or it doesn't seem fair.”

Juniper looked down at her hands, twiddling her thumbs. “But I wasn't drinking,” she said, her voice quieter now, more unsure.

“That kid had never drank before that day either,” Eddie said. “At least, that's what his mom kept screaming over and over.” He paused for a beat, let his words sink in before he continued. “Listen, kid, I'm not saying you'll never screw up, or that you'll never drink, but it's your dads job to keep you safe for as long as they can.”

Juniper picked at a fingernail, thinking for a bit before responding. “Do you... Do you think I really scared them? Leaving like that?” she asked.

“I think it's quite possibly the most terrified they've ever been in their lives, and that's saying a lot.”

“I'm gonna be in a lot of trouble, aren't I?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie answered honestly. “I don't think there'll be any parties at all in your foreseeable future. It is just because they love you though, Chewy,” he said, and although she rolled her eyes she didn't correct the nickname. He glanced at his watch. “Your dads'll be here pretty soon to read you the riot act so, until then, would you like some cookies?”

Her eyes perked up at that. “Really?”

“Uncles don't dole out punishments,” Eddie informed her, getting up and waving her toward the kitchen, “just wise advice and cookies.”

*****

Nearly twenty minutes later, they heard a car pull up. They went into the living room just in time for Buck to open the door.

He and Juniper stared at each other for a few seconds, and Buck released a breath that Eddie was sure he'd been holding since they realized she'd run off.

“Juniper,” he started once he found his voice. “Car. Now.”

“Dad, where's Pop- Papa?”

“In the car. He got very upset when he found your note and hasn't really been able to stop crying, even after Eddie called and we knew you were safe.”

“I'm sorry, Dad. I- I didn't mean-”

“Car,” Buck said sternly, stepping to the side so she could get out the door. “Now.”

She hung her head down low. “Yes, Sir.”

Buck watched out the doorway as Juniper headed to the car, making sure she was inside before turning back to Eddie. His posture relaxed. “Thanks for calling... and for keeping her here.”

“Of course. You and Tommy gonna be okay?”

He shook his head, biting at his bottom lip. “Tommy went to go talk to her. She'd slammed her door shut earlier and we were giving her a couple hours to cool off. Figured maybe a one-on-one would be better than us both going in, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“God, Eddie, the way Tommy screamed my name down the hall after he found her note. I- I thought my heart would stop before I even knew what happened. Then we were both panicked, then I was trying to calm Tommy down because of his problems lately.”

Things had been rough in the Buckley-Kinard household these past few months. Tommy had been forced into retirement after some issues from his brain injury years ago had resurfaced. Nothing too major, he was still able to drive and go about most of his usual activities. He did have a near constant tremor in his hands, random twitches throughout his body, and a slight limp when he walked. His doctors had assured him it was nothing major; brain injuries were tricky like that sometimes. You could go years, sometimes even decades, before the brain would start acting up again.

He'd returned to physical therapy, retired and became a part-time fire instructor, all while Buck was completing his first year of being captain at the 118.

It'd been a lot of stress, then adding Juniper and her typical teenage attitude on top of that... well, it would be overwhelming for anyone.

“If it helps at all, I think she's genuinely sorry,” Eddie replied with a shrug. “Might even get a whole week without her getting mad at you again.”

“Hm, yeah, we'll see after the month long grounding she's about to get. You know anything about installing alarms on windows?” he asked, only half joking.

Eddie snorted. “Somehow I think she'd outsmart it.”

“I don't doubt that. I better get going. I've got a whole speech planned in my head that I don't wanna forget. Thanks again, Eddie.”

Eddie walked over to him, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder before they both turned for the door. “You think Tommy's gonna be alright?” he asked.

They stopped when they reached the doorway, looking out to see that Tommy had opened the passenger door and stepped one foot down, holding Juniper tight in his arms as she clung onto him. They were both clearly crying as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Yeah,” Buck replied. “He'll be alright.”

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 1 🍒

“Austin”

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2K

Summary: new to the city, you befriend Sarah, and in a time of need you befriend her dad Joel

WARNINGS: this particular chapter is safe for everyone to read, but future chapters will contain smut; mild cursing, little bit of flirting; age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35); reader is tomboyish but otherwise no race specified and will not be throughout the series; until otherwise specified, this story takes place in the summer of 2003 and is AU with no outbreak, no use of y/n.

Author's Note: this was the first fic I ever wrote, after months of lurking on AO3. It's one of my favorites to write and probably my most popular on AO3, so I'm bringing her to the party. In this particular chapter Joel fixes a sink, and I did minimal investigating into the world of plumbing, so obviously any mistakes are just gonna be there.

Series Masterlist

Austin is quiet. So much quieter than where you came from: Houston, the city on the bayou, where there's always something fun to do. Not that Austin is without its charm, it just kind of feels like living on the moon after the hustle and bustle of your hometown, the fourth largest city in the US. But the people are friendly, the vibes are mellow, and you soon begin to feel at home.

Soon you'll be starting college at the University of Texas, a school you've had your eye on since fifth grade. Your mom, overprotective but meaning well, allowed you to stay with your older cousin Sofia rather than living on campus. And you're excited about it because even with a roommate, this is your first time on your own, away from home, about to really live your life.

School starts in a couple months, so in the meantime you get a job at a new Starbucks in town, providing you with a little spending money. The first few days are a blur, making drinks, learning the register. But it keeps you busy, A few times a week a younger group of kids come in, ordering the cheapest things on the menu. One of them, a girl 13 or 14 years old, approaches the counter. She studies the overhead menu with an air of seriousness. "What's in a frappuccino?" she asks.

"Um, coffee, espresso, milk, ice, and syrup blended together, basically. Comes with whipped cream on top. I could give you one to try," you offer, as your manager is out that day.

"Sure," the girl answers eagerly.

You make the cold, frothy drink and hand it to her. "I'm still pretty new at this, so if you hate it, I'm sorry," you joke.

She smiles and walks back to her friends, sipping the frapp.

You work until evening and pick up some fast food on the way home, Getting out of the car with your food you lean back against the vehicle, stretching a little, trying to wake yourself up a bit. Then you hear the sound of a truck coming up the driveway next door and the engine shutting off. There are a couple of voices you hear as the people begin to exit the truck.

"Hey, she's the one who gave me the free coffee today," you hear, and though it likely isn't meant for you to hear, you glance over and see the young girl from earlier today, climbing out of the truck. From around the driver's side you see a man, mid-thirties, tall, well-built, a black t-shirt clinging to his torso. Dirtied jeans and work boots complete his attire. It takes a moment before you realize he's looking at you.

Immediately you glance back at the girl, obviously his daughter. "Hey," you smile and give a quick, awkward wave. She waves back politely and he gives a curt nod and quick wave. They make their way up the front porch and you hear his gruff voice: "You had coffee? Great, now you'll be bouncin' off the walls all evenin'," before the door closes behind them.

"Guess I met my neighbors," you mutter, making your way inside as well.

Over the next few days the girl, who you now know as Sarah Miller, comes to Starbucks, ordering the same frapp every time. "Don't tell your dad I'm giving you all this caffeine," you tell her, hiding a smirk.

Sometimes you give her a ride home from the cafe, though she claims to use the bus now and then. You come to see that Sarah is a lot more mature than you were at her age. You hang out from time to time, swim in your backyard pool, go to the mall, and every time you drop her off you catch a glimpse of her dad, always a figure in the background. You exchange a wave or polite smile and move on.

It's your day off, a Sunday. You intend to spend the day lounging, watching TV. Maybe Sarah will stop by. After making a quick breakfast for yourself you do the dishes. When you're finished, you realize the class ring you'd set on the counter is gone, likely washed down the sink. "Damn!" you exclaim, and text Sofia, who has just left for work.

Go next door and ask Mr. Miller if he can take a look and get it out. He's helped around the house before your cousin replies.

You sigh and put the phone down.

You're a little hesitant going to speak to him. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's home. You knock on the door, feeling self-conscious about your first interaction with him, and Mr. Miller opens the door.

"Good morning," you introduce yourself. "I'm Sarah's friend.. from next door."

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Joel Miller." He extends a calloused hand and you shake it. You've always assumed him to be a man who does hard work for a living, but in your first time seeing him up close you admire his tousled, dark brown hair, his deep brown eyes that seem serious. "What can I do for ya?" he asks in his gentle Texan drawl.

You smile. "Well, I was told you're pretty handy around the house, and I lost my ring in the sink just now." You chuckle at your mistake. "Would it be possible for you to come over and take a look?" You feel really shy about asking this of a man you barely know.

He takes a moment to think, clears his throat, raises his brow. "I suppose I could stop by." His tone is gruff but his manner seems warm enough. "I'll give it a shot. I'm no plumber, but I'll see what I can do." He shrugs.

You smile and sigh with relief. "Of course. I mean, even you just checking it out would be a big help.. whenever you can stop by I'll be here." You don't want to make demands on his time.

"All right.. I'm not doin' much right now, so I could swing 'round if you like. Just let me grab my toolbox."

Once inside, with minimal conversation Joel gets on the floor, under the sink, and gets to work. You wait nearby, trying not to hover, but also wanting to be available in case he needs anything. Plus he's good looking. You watch as he works. His shirt rides up, revealing his torso, and a hint of the waistband of his underwear. Your eyes wander lower until you force them away. To distract yourself you start putting things away in the cupboard.

"Sarah tells me you're new to Austin," he says as he works.

"Yeah, I'm actually from Houston. I'm starting UT in the fall, and staying with my cousin in the meantime. I take it you know Sofia?"

"I do. She's nice. I keep an eye on her place when she's away. Even when you're there."

You mean to say something in reply, maybe 'thank you' but you're thinking about him keeping a protective watch over your home while you're inside, unaware.

"So you're starting university? How old are ya?" he asks.

Something about his question makes you feel like a deer in headlights. "I'll be nineteen in September. On the twenty-sixth."

You can almost hear the smile in his voice. "No shit? That's my birthday. Except I'm far from nineteen. Small world, ain't it?"

"Yeah," you say, sneaking another glance at his torso.

"What're you studyin'?"

"English," you answer, excited to talk about it. "More specifically Literature. I want to write, and maybe one day work at a huge publishing house."

You hear Joel give a grunt. "What do you write?"

"Poetry sometimes, short stories, I have a few ideas for novels."

Another grunt. "You don't look like the type.. the writer type.. no offense."

"What type do I look like?" Your heart races as you realize he's categorized you already.

He peeks out from under the sink and his eyes fix on you in a way that makes you shiver. "I don't know yet. But you're young. Maybe you're the rebellious type." He goes back to work.

You sit on the floor, your back against the fridge opposite him. "How am I the rebellious type to you?"

He's quiet, and you see the gleam of his eyes from where he's under the sink. "Haven't quite figured it out yet.."

You can tell he's having fun with this, and there's a vibration in the air, a palpable chord struck, and you wonder if he feels it too.

"Anything I can do? Feeling kinda helpless over here," you chuckle.

"Just stay out of the way," his voice is more gruff than maybe he intends. Frowning, his eyes focus on an item lodged in the P-trap. He reaches in and pulls out your ring. It's covered in gunk and grime but you recognize it immediately.

"Oh shit! Thank you..." It's your class ring. 'Class of 2003' is engraved on the side, with a princess cut sapphire on top. You put it aside to clean it later.

Joel smirks. "No problem."

"I really owe you one."

"I dunno about that. Just don't go throwin' away your valuable stuff next time, okay?" He's teasing, almost playful.

You laugh "Okay.. hey I'm working at the cafe tomorrow. If you come by I could get you a free coffee." You put the offer out there, testing the waters though you aren't sure why.

"Free coffee? Careful, girl, between giving away free stuff to me and Sarah, you're gonna run Starbucks out of business," he grins. "But yeah, I might have to stop by."

You walk him out, even though Joel says it's not necessary, but you can tell he enjoys your company. "I guess I'll be seeing you around Joel.. Mr. Miller."

He stifles a chuckle. There's a touch of amusement in the way he speaks to you, but he hides it behind a warm, open expression. "Call me Joel. No need to be so formal around me."

"If my mom was here she'd say I was being disrespectful, calling you by your first name." You can't help a little blush.

"I won't complain about respect," he smiles again.

"She's pretty protective of me," you describe your living situation, your freedom that is being given in increments.

"Well your mom might've done you a favor there." Joel looks out past your front porch. "That's probably a wise decision, ya know? What about your dad? He ok with you living far from home?"

You shake your head. "He's not.. really in the picture. My parents divorced about five years ago. My dad went up north, Minnesota I think, and I haven't seen him since.." You feel a little vulnerable revealing this.

Joel's brow furrows and his expression darkens. You wonder if he's thinking about Sarah. You don't know much about her mother and haven't felt okay to ask. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you all right?"

You shrug. "I guess so. I've managed this long without him.." You give a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "I shouldn't be bothering you with all this.."

"No problem, I don't mind listenin'. Do me a favor," he says suddenly. "Be careful out there, okay?"

Something about this catches you off guard. "Of course I will."

He smiles. "Good. I'll see you at the cafe tomorrow," he phrases it like a hopeful question.

"Bright and early," you say, feeling a few butterflies in your stomach.

He laughs and nods. "Til then."

You watch him leave and though you cringe at how young, foolish, childish you must appear to him, you can't deny that you feel something, even for a brief moment. Maybe it's nothing. But something about him sticks with you, an odd feeling in your chest. But it's just a dumb, knee-jerk reaction. He has a family, he's twice your age. You're focused on school and your future. Joel Miller is the last person you should be thinking about...

...right?

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[ryndicate]

Seal It With a Kiss ⨳ Kishibe

"You want me to do this for you? Then tell me exactly what it is that you want."

notes: I came up with this idea for @akiniku back in like september when i was just beginning to sniff around the csm fandom for a favorite. Dom told me all about him and i fell in love and came up with this plot and *then* I read csm lol. 6+ months later, here we are T-T thanks to @cyancherub for reading through his characterization for me and for my past and future beta readers<3 (i know some of you havent gotten the chance i was just too excited) Idon’t know if i will ever be able to put as much love into a Kishibe fic ever again so lets try to appreciate this

warnings: female reader, longer than a drabble, alcohol, virginity loss + inexperienced reader, creampie, emotional manipulation, coercion but there's consent, age gap (like 30 years between them, fight me), trainee/mentor relationship, twisted savior complex, canonverse, piss (more about control than it is the kink)

Rules/BYF/DNI

Kishibe sighs. “That’s it for today.”

“Already?” You puff, sweat dripping down your temples, your blade lowering until the tip is pointing to the ground. “I could keep going.”

He sighs again, resisting the urge to rub the approaching headache from his temple. Kishibe will never understand the PSDH’s insistence of sending him all of their potentials. Their screening is usually decent enough to keep this type of student from beneath his weathered wings, but every now and then one will slip through. One like you. Earnest, hopeful, and far too willing to do the job. This ain’t the place for you, never will be. They set you loose on the streets and you’ll be some Devil’s next meal. 

But it’s not his place to care. Not supposed to be at least. Makima won’t even tell him which Devils you have contracts with—but again, he doesn't care.

Kishibe ignores your mumbled complaints about cutting your training short, sighing under his breath. “Gonna need’a drink after this.”

He’s unprepared for you to pop up at his side, tilting your head as you ask if you can come with him.

“Why?”

The question seems to put you off. “Isn’t it good manners to take your juniors out after a hard day?” 

Kishibe huffs at your coy tone, certain you’re just after a free meal. “That’s for juniors who’ve proven they earned it.”

That seems to put you off even more. “You don’t think I’ve earned it?”

“No.” His answer is short, clipped. Dark eyes watch intently as you deflate a little, that perpetually cheerful expression drooping into something he ultimately decides is an unsettling expression on a face like yours. He doesn’t care for it, unable to decide why. 

“How’s this?” He grunts, pulling a cigarette from his pack and lighting up. “I’ll give ya a week.”

“A week for what? You're not supposed to smoke inside, you know.” A sulky tone meets Kishibe’s ears, your eyes tracking his lips and the flare of the cherry as he inhales.

He ignores the snipe. “You get close enough to me to take one of these away—” a twitch of his fingers has flaky ash fluttering to the linoleum, “—and I’ll take you out for drinks. That’s how you earn it.”

The sparkle is back in your eyes in an instant. Your sword tips back into its sheath, coming up on his left to give him a smile. "You got it, sir! You'll never smoke again. Just watch."

Kishibe rolls a shoulder, suppressing a groan at your chipper attitude. I'm getting too old for this shit. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."

He's ignorant to the way the words make you pause, moving for the door, ready to get in his car and drive to his regular dive bar. He needs the silence of the drive before he drowns himself for the night. Well, not so much silence as the rattling heating unit, the rush of passing cars, and music so quiet one might question why it’s even on. It’s simply the beginning step of the ritual he’s come to find most comforting, or numbing, on this job. 

"See you tomorrow, sir?"

“Yeah.” He doesn’t even bother glancing back as the door closes behind him. 

The autumn air clears his head a little as he finally escapes the hallways of the office. A cold breeze whips at his hair, bringing old scars and memories to mind as it bites at his skin. Kishibe takes a final drag of his cigarette and lets it fall to the pavement. He doesn’t stub it out, pulling out the collar of his jacket to fight the chill as he disappears into the evening crowd.

“That is not how this works.”

“There’s no way this doesn’t count!”

“Give them back.”

“I said you’d never smoke again, didn’t I? I didn’t think you of all people would want me to go back on my word.”

Kishibe takes a careful inhale through his nose, closing his eyes for a beat and convincing himself he won’t kill any of his trainees. He’s sent you to infirmiry more times than he cares to count with these training sessions, to bring home the apparently wavering point on your young dumb invicibility complex, but he knows where the line is. So when he opens them, Kishibe fixes you with the same intent stare that usually gets his subordinates to straighten up, or clingy women out of his apartment. Dark, unimpressed, unwavering.

You are painfully undeterred.

“I had to get close enough to take them from you. That’s what you said.” You stand in front of him, at a regrettably smart distance, looking mighty proud of yourself as you clutch the worn white box carefully in your fist. After five straight days of utter and total defeat, you’d made your move on the car ride over this morning instead. 

“I said one, not the pack,” Kishibe drawls. “And you know damn well that ain’t the point here. Nickin' them from the car is not the same.”

You shrug, a familiar petulance beginning to saturate your tone. “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You said that kills people.”

Unprepared for the—still a smartass answer but—wisdom of your words, some of the intensity dissolves from his eyes. As if he really needed that reminder. He still has his doubts. 

“No arguing that,” Kishibe sighs, scratching his neck. “Guess you get what you wanted. Drinks on me tonight.”

A triumphant smile brightens your face, but it doesn’t last. The barest moment later you find yourself flat on your back on the training facility’s floor, groaning at the impact. 

Kishibe flicks his lighter, sparking his cigarette and taking a grateful inhale of sweet nicotine as he stands over you, impassive.

“But I’m still gonna make you earn it, sweetheart. Getting overconfident and lettin’ down your guard also kills people. Get up and block me next time.”

“Yes, sir."

He might have been harsher on you today than entirely warranted as he watches you wince and shift, trying to get comfortable in the weathered booth of his usual bar. But really, to go any easier on you would do you a disservice if you really are this hellbent on working in public safety. Part of Kishibe is hoping one training session—and soon—he’ll find your limit and you’ll realize you aren’t making the cut. At the very least he’d like you to settle for the civilian sector. Hell, Kishibe despises paperwork but he'd write your damn recommendation.

You’re peering around the dimly lit space. It's hazy with smoke, with a scent to match. He probably could have taken you somewhere nicer, but he really didn’t want to stray too far from his own comfort zone, so what the hell. This was your own idea anyways. 

“Are you even old enough to be in here?” Kishibe asks suddenly, catching the eye of the bartender and tipping his head. 

“I came of age a couple months ago.”

Kishibe cringes inwardly at your prideful tone. Fucking great. He eyes you as the bartender begins to edge out from behind the counter, watching as you glance around a little frantically for a menu. Shoddy place like this doesn’t really have one. 

Kishibe gestures between the two of you before the man has to cross the bar completely. “My usual. Double for me.”

"What's your usual?" You ask curiously. 

"Whiskey. Nothing fancy, just cheap and strong." 

"Oh."

The glasses are placed in front of you and you give what Kishibe sees as an awkward smile at the bartender as your fingers wrap around the glass. He takes a grateful gulp, unable to help but notice you haven't made a move with your own. 

"Not to your taste?"

"I don't know," you answer plainly, tilting the short glass and letting the amber liquid catch the light. "Never had it."

"Never had whiskey?" Kishibe hums, bored, taking another drink. The double is going fast. The familiar warmth has already settled in his chest, an old comfort. 

"Never had alcohol."

Sucker punched with that information, Kishibe pauses and swallows the last of his glass before setting it down and signaling for a refill. He's far too practised to waste a drop of a drink he's paying for.

"Why are we here?" It's a shrewd question, a shrewd tone. "If you've never had alcohol, why were you so insistent on going out for drinks? Isn't that something you do with your friends?"

Your fingers tighten on the glass, a small pout forming on your lips. "Didn’t wanna do this with friends. Wanted my first drink to be with you, s-sir." Embarrassment coats your features as your words stumble off at the end, and you return to examining your still untouched drink.

Kishibe's refill arrives, another heaven sent double. He's getting the faint inkling that something else is happening here and he's far too tired to pick the answers out of you.

"Lemme get this straight," he drawls, leaning forward and jabbing a finger at you over the rim of his glass before bringing it to his lips. "You wanted your first drink out with a tired old man instead of your friends?"

"You're not tired!" 

Your tone is scandalized, pitch rising high enough that it catches the attention of some other men seated nearby. The last thing he needs.

Kishibe scoffs, scar twitching as he fights a sardonic smirk. "Beg to differ sweetheart."

"You're not, you…you're—" your volume is back to normal, seemingly struggling with your words, and it's amusing if not slightly endearing. 

"Lemme know when you think of something, I'll be here," Kishibe mumbles, drinking again, content to watch you squirm. "You gonna take that first drink? You got me here, like you wanted. Might as well."

That small smirk finally fights its way onto his lips as you give him the barest of glares. He usually doesn't see that look on you until you've gone an entire session without landing a single hit. It's cute. 

"You're you. Don't gotta 'splain myself to you," you grumble, timidly lifting the glass to your lips.

"No, you don't," Kishibe rumbles in agreement, watching as you take your first swallow. 

To your merit you don't splutter or cough, but a grimace splinters across your expression as you swallow and stare down at the glass in mild disbelief. 

"This sucks," you announce firmly.

Kishibe barks out a short laugh and finishes his second drink. "I'll order ya something else."

He's reaching for your glass when you snatch it away from him. 

"No, I'll finish it. This is what you usually get?"

"Yeah. But take it easy, that's a—" Kishibe stares, a little defeated as you down the glass. "Tha'sa sippin' whiskey."

"What's that mean?" You croak out, your face scrunching up despite your efforts.

"It means you're getting a glass of water before I get you anythin' else."

"Why?"

You'll thank me in the morning, Kishibe thinks grimly, not deigning to answer. Along with the next few rounds and the rounds after that, he also orders your water and some food, feeling abnormally generous. Maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your grumbling tomorrow at training. 

He can’t stop thinking how strange this is. It’s strange. You’re here in his usual booth, humming an odd tune while drinking his usual whiskey, when he’s here each night, usually alone. Kishibe feels the deep disturbance all the way to his roots, gnarled and twisted as they are. 

Watching your face twist up at the taste again, Kishibe decides to slow down with some soju instead. Your eyes are getting blurry and your hands have settled into some kind of nervous habit, picking at the edge of the table as you try not to look at him. He doesn't understand your insistence here. Here at the bar, or anything else. 

"Why are you doin' this?" He asks again, quiet.

You glance at him, blinking slowly as your gaze struggles to focus. Then you force a smile, sweet and pure as a Devil's heart. It's damn near chilling to see. 

"'Cause I want to, sir."

"Bullshit." He's looked into you. Your family is alive, financially stable. You're not like most rookies joining up for the pay or the revenge. And from being around you he figures you aren't the type to do this for status. So it doesn't make sense. 

Your smile fades. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. You're not cut out for this shit, kiddo. An' I think ya know it, too."

"It's my first night out drinking, how can you tell?"

"Don't play coy with me."

You stand sharply, unsteady, a look crossing your face that Kishibe can't read. Before he can speak again, you're sliding into the booth on his side. 

"Then ask me directly, sir." You whisper, trying valiantly to meet his harsh stare, before eventually losing your nerve and fixing your gaze on the table. 

Like Kishibe has any problem being direct. Fine then. He sets his glass down and turns his body to face you. "Why're ya training so damn hard to become a Devil Hunter when it's just gonna get you killed?"

Cheeks warming, you don't look at him again. "Every Hunter has their reason, or else they wouldn't be here. We don't gotta share them unless we want to."

Your words are halting, and slurred. Kishibe pushes your drink out of reach. A fifth of whiskey and bottle of soju between you both for your first night out was an oversight on his part, even if he had more than you. 

"And you're not goin' to tell me?"

Head dropping into your palm, eyelashes fluttering, you peek up at him. "Not unless you can tell me why you care."

Kishibe pauses. He's got plenty of reasons, but he's not uncouth enough to say them to you. 'Cause he doesn't want to be wasting his time prepping meat for the chopping block. 'Cause booze is expensive and sleep is precious. He doesn't get enough as it is and he's sick at the idea of losing more. 'Cause every time one of his trainees dies, it feels like a new scar cracks its way across the already trampled fragments of his soul. 

There's plenty of reasons he drinks himself nearly dead every night. 

Your fuzzy eyes peer into his darkened ones and seemingly run into the wall that you know he's put up. "Then it's better you don't ask, sir. It’s important to me, that’s all you need’ta know."

So much for direct.

There's a silence at the table after Kishibe gruffly orders another drink, his mood for the night officially ruined. This is why he doesn't socialize with coworkers. Save people by day, check out at night. He lives for one fleeting peace; he'd rather be drowning in booze and laid up in the arms of whatever woman will put up with him.

And all he has right now is booze. He flags the barkeep. "Bottle for the road."

You shift to look at him. "Are we leaving already?"

"Yeah. You've had plenty."

There's no complaint, but there's no mistaking the look of disappointment on your face as he takes your arm and helps haul you to your wobbly feet.

"What's that look for?"

"I was having fun, sir."

"Stop calling me sir."

"Why?"

"Cause we're at a fucking bar. Sir is for work."

"Then what am I supposed to call you?"

"Just Kishibe."

He finally looks at you again and you're smiling and this time there's nothing to be unsettled about. "No honorific? You'll let me call you by name?"

"It's sir at work," Kishibe reminds, deadpan.

“And master in front of other hunters, I know,” you parrot cheekily, and Kishibe merely curls his lips in a temporary smirk.

“Damn right.”

"But not at work?" You prod, leaning into his frame heavily as the cold night air washes away the warmth of the bar.

"Then yeah, drop the honorific."

"Kishibe." His name leaves your lips as a wonder-filled giggle. The corner of his lip tugs further upward unwittingly in dry amusement. At least someone can salvage the mood for the night. 

You poke at the bottle held loosely in his grip. "Can I have some of that?"

He passes it to you. "You don't even like the stuff."

An impressive amount of the amber liquid disappears down your throat before you groan in disgust and pass it back to him. "Sometimes we do stuff we don't like 'cause we get something out of it."

Kishibe hums at that. "And what do you get out of it?"

"'S a secret."

"A secret, huh? You seem to have a lot of those." He drawls, keeping you upright when you almost fall again. Yeah, he needs to find you a taxi or something. Neither of you are driving tonight. It's a little annoying, he meant to stop at the convenience store to get another pack of cigs before going home tonight. The crumpled empty pack is still in his pocket—he hasn't had one since this morning and Kishibe can feel the irritation in his nerves. 

"What's your address kid?" He nudges you as the taxi pulls up, but your weight against his hip suddenly feels dead. "Are you—of course you are."

Kishibe's whole chest fills with his next sigh, and he quietly works to get you into the cab. The driver asks him where they're going and he actually has to think about it for a moment. He'd much rather prefer going back to his cozy little hideout, but it's a mess and much too small. Not to mention he absolutely does not want you knowing where it is.

Closing his eyes, Kishibe reluctantly mumbles out an address, and sinks even deeper into his bottle before the cab drops them off at the requested location.

He eyes you over as the elevator quietly ascends, one arm around your waist with yours around his shoulder to bear your weight. It's really no wonder you passed out, the scent of whiskey is just about crawling out of your pores. Between the two of you, Kishibe bets the elevator smells like a distillery.

The doors open into his “apartment”. 

He doesn't like sleeping here. The place is too big, ceilings too high, furniture too fancy. All those high windows and modern grays and whites. It's perfectly clean and perfectly lifeless, set up for him by the PSDH. He's sure some bright-eyed big shot hunter in it for the money and high living would get a kick out of the place, but for a man like him the space is just obnoxious. But since his studio isn't an option, and Kishibe can't be bothered with taking you to a hotel, he figures you'd rather prefer one of his guest rooms instead. 

Kishibe flinches and grumbles under his breath as the now empty bottle slips from his hand and clatters to the hardwood. You make a rather undignified snort as you startle to awareness. If one could call it that.

“Wha—” Your fingers cling to the sleeve of his jacket as you blink through the blur of your eyesight, struggling to find your footing. “Where’re we now?”

“My place.”

“You live here?” 

“Technically.”

He hauls you towards the kitchen, somewhat a struggle with your uninhibited desire to swivel your head and scan the place as thoroughly as you were presently capable of doing.

“Not what I pictured.” You wobble and right yourself, slumping against the marble countertop. Kishibe pauses, making sure you’re gonna make a dive for his floor before he turns to pull open the fridge.

“Yeah well, me neither.”

“It’s so clean.” That earns you a grunt. “And modern.”

“You tryin’ to say something, sweetheart?” He sends you a look that sends a hot wave of embarrassment across your face.

“No! ‘M just sayin’...”

“Yeah, whatever. Here.”

You take the water bottle he pushes into your hands and open it, halfheartedly taking a few sips to ease the simmer in your cheeks.

Kishibe snorts when you put it down. “Nuh uh, finish that.”

You take another sip, trying to placate him. “‘M not thirsty though.” 

Your eyes widen as he grumbles and steps closer, dark eyes narrowed. It’s impossible to muffle the noise of complaint on your lips as he tips the water bottle back, keeping your chin up with an uncompromising strength. "Tough. I said all of it."

The rough pads of his thumbs feel like fire on your jaw and he seems to have no idea how his proximity is setting you ablaze. You quickly swallow before you choke, or worse spill down your chin like a child. He doesn’t let go until you’ve finished the bottle—it’s impossible not to gasp for air as if you’ve breached the surface of a pool for the first time in minutes.

“Pretty good lungs.”

“I almost died—!” You wheeze, unappreciative of the joke, wiping your face with your arm.

“You were gonna be dead in the morning if you didn’t. Might as well get it over with.” Kishibe sets the empty bottle on the counter, unflappable.

“Hmph.”

You watch curiously as he grabs himself some water, noticing with a scowl that he doesn’t drink nearly as much as he forced on you. He reaches for a small bottle, rattling as he shakes a couple into his palm. “You’re not supposed to take those with alcohol.”

Kishibe gives you a dry look and pops the painkillers into his mouth. He can feel his head pounding already, his routine thoroughly interrupted. He can’t mentally check out with you still here, especially in this state. You look a little more solid now compared to your unconscious slump, but you’re still visibly swaying, blurred eyes drifting in and out of focus. Last thing he needs is for you to do something to yourself when he’s around. The paperwork for that would be the death of him.

He shrugs and nods for you to follow. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

You suddenly look nervous. “C’mon where?”

“Night’s over. Time for bed.”

You produce a shaky laugh. “What?”

Sweet fuck.

“You want a bed or the couch?” Kishibe takes applaudable effort to keep the exhaustion out of his tone. Honestly, you'd probably be better off with the couch, grateful for your mumbled little ‘doesn’t matter to me’. He's not sure of the state of any of the rooms, considering he's trashed them before. Whoever set the place up for him might have a cleaning service but he's never bothered to ask about it since he’s never here. “There’s blankets around here somewhere.”

Stepping into the living room he sees he’s right, a couple of soft looking throws draped over the back of a plush black sectional. You’re trailing close behind him, like you’ll get lost if you lose sight of him. 

“Sit.” Kishibe says tiredly as you circle around the edge of the sectional, looking around curiously.

You listen and he grabs the other blanket off the far arm of the couch, tossing it and one of the pillows towards where you’re sitting. The pillow lands at your side, the blanket haphazardly in your lap, are you’re just staring at him as he settles on the other side, shrugging out of his suit jacket and letting that fall to the floor.

“Get comfortable, go to sleep,” Kishibe grunts, closing his eyes.

“You’re staying in here?”

He doesn’t read into the tone of your voice, keeping his eyes shut. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own puke in your sleep.”

“‘M not gonna puke,” you grumble under your breath.

Kishibe wills in a sigh, listening to the rustle of blankets and what he assumes is you settling down. Only to tense as the cushion near him dips under weight. He opens his eyes to see you sitting you next to him and his eyes sharpen.

You cut him off, seeming to sense whatever biting remark is coming. “I’m not tired. Not good at sleeping in new spaces.”

“Well you need’ta try.”

“Can we just talk for a bit?”

He sighs, but he doesn’t refute you, opening his eyes to give you a quiet stare. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

Relying heavily on the lingering alcohol in your veins to gather the nerve, you scooch closer to his position on the couch, dragging the blanket with you. “You’ve really never had anyone over here? But Himeno says you never spend your nights alone.”

Kishibe eyes you warily as you enter what he considers his field of personal space, your knees barely brushing against his thighs. “I don’t normally spend my nights here. And you can tell Himeno she’s got better things t’do than gossip about my personal life.”

“So you spend the night at their place then?”

“Sometimes.”

“Are you really the womanizer everyone says you are?”

Kishibe glances up to see you even closer and shifts a little to give you a measured look, eyelids drooping in suspicion. “You really want the truth of that?”

“Yeah, ‘m hoping to hear something,” you murmur, heart racing as you place a hand on his abdomen. It stiffens under your touch, but he makes no move to stop you, so you toy with the button of his shirt. 

“And what’s that exactly?” Shock receding, his mind catches up and he grabs your hand, keeping it from tracing its upward path.

“There’s something I’m hoping you can help me with, sir.”

“Kishibe.”

“Kishibe,” you correct, cheeks warming as you finally raise your eyes from his chest to look into his own. He’s watching you so closely that you almost look away again, almost chickening out. 

His eyes are locked onto the way you’re chewing at your lip, waiting for you to say something more, hoping for anything that makes sense. When you don’t his patience thins enough to ask, “Well?”

“I-um,” you hesitate before your fingers curl into his shirt, mentally fortifying yourself, “I’ve never… I’m looking for someone experienced to- to help me. I want it to be you.”

There's a small pause as his whiskey-addled mind filters out the meaning of your words. Then, a small disbelieving smirk is half-formed on his lips when he scoffs out a laugh. “Ha, no, sweetheart. No, I don’t think so.”

He’s shifting to stand up off the couch when you panic. You’ve gotten this far! He has to hear you out, or you’ll never be able to look him in the eye again, let alone train under him. So before he can, you throw your thigh over his lap, straddling him. His hands flash to your arms in an iron grip, keeping your hands from wandering any further. He’s staring at you in muted disbelief, tense, as if he can’t quite believe you’re defying him. 

“Please wait,” your voice raises in pitch, but you’re almost whispering. “I can explain, please just listen.”

“What? Cute little student girl got the hots for teacher? Or are you desperately in love with me now, and can’t bear the thought of anyone else sullying your innocence?” he drawls out, the insanity of this situation finally allowing him to release the floodgates on all the ill manner he’s been attempting to keep back all night. 

Your face might as well be a space heater as you splutter in mortification at being seen through so easily, trying to find the words to refute him. “N-no! No, I wasn’t. That’s… That’s not…”

“You better clear this up real quick then, sweets, cause you don’t have long before I take it into my own hands,” Kishibe warns lowly, soft and dangerous, seconds from calling a cab to get you miles away from his apartment, and more importantly him. 

The hard-eyed stare he’s giving you now is nothing like the way he looks at you in training. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought that entertaining your feelings is enough to make him react this way, turning him into this colder version of himself that you barely recognize. This is not going the way you intended, but you can’t imagine that you’ll ever be in a situation like this ever again, so you take a deep breath and clear your expression of all deceit. “It’s not like that, but I really can’t think of anyone else to help me with this. It’s not for lack of trying.”

Kishibe eyes you, his grip on your arms not slacking. You glance down at him warily, and he’s like a bristling cat that’s making an attempt at trust. 

“So…? Will you help me?”

He mumbles eventually, still tense, “Why not Hayakawa? Or one of the other rookies, they’re probably better suited.”

You make a face. “The rookies are stupid, and Hayakawa-san is just too… stern.”

“I’m not stern?”

“That’s not the point!” You retort hotly. “Hayakawa just seems more like someone who isn’t interested in casual flings—”

“And that’s what you’re looking for here?” Kishibe cuts in drily, noting the way your mouth snaps shut. You shift awkwardly in his lap and he stoutly blames his nightly routine for the way his body is sluggishly perking to life. He might have the heart of a saint, but his mind is more like a devil’s… and he has eyes.

Oblivious to his internalizations, you grimace. You don't want casual anything so it's technically a point in Hayakawa's favor. But there's one big point in the younger man's (begrudgingly small) list of cons that can't be overlooked: he's not Kishibe.

“I’m looking for someone who knows what they’re doing,” you inform him, your voice softening. There’s a sort of vulnerability to you now that has the older man caving despite himself and listening more intently, watching you whiplash between assertive and shy for the nth time. “Someone I trust, who won’t take advantage of me. And… I don’t believe the whole sacred virginity schtick, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want my first time to be… I don’t know, special?”

Kishibe’s mouth runs dry, and this time he blames the alcohol. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Don’t say that,” you plead softly, leaning closer without thinking in your excitement. That wasn’t a refusal. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

He can feel your breath on his cheeks, his eyes bouncing between your lips and eyes for a moment before humming low. “No one else? A girl like you, having to settle for an old man like me?”

"No one has to know. Please, sir?" You plead quietly, with crystal notes of sincerity. It's a painfully sweet sound.

Kishibe reluctantly lets your arms slip from his hands and drops his own to loosely grip your waist, absently drawing a pattern on your hip with one finger. The heat of your body is filtering so thick through your clothes that he doesn't know how he didn't notice it until now. You shiver at his touch, and he tries to keep his expression neutral when you instinctively grab at his shoulders.

He shouldn't be considering this for even a second, but he is and he hates himself for it. You're a young pretty thing, and he's made a point to stop looking at young pretty things the way your touch is sparking him to, for going on years now. 

Carefully, one hand moves to rest on your stomach, caressing its way up over your covered chest, eliciting a soft gasp from you before it moves on and settles under your chin, firmly tugging it down to make sure you're looking at him. He's never cared for the way you can't look him in the eye, and he normally lets it go but he won't tolerate it tonight. If he goes through with this, that is.

Your eyes are wide, and glazed in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol for the first time tonight. Kishibe makes a low sound in his throat at the sight of it before speaking, a heavy, rumbling tone meant to ensure you're taking in every word. 

"You want me to do this for you?"

"Yes." Your breath catches as you damn near breathe the word out, your heart in your throat and a flutter in your stomach that makes you feel like you might fly away.

"Then tell me exactly what it is that you want." Fuck, he’s really doing this.

"I…" The hesitation must be clear on your face because his expression gets heated, a tiny smirk forming at the corner of his lips. You wouldn't have seen it at all if you weren't staring at them so hard. A quiet moan spills from your lips as he presses them to your jaw, not quite kissing, but dragging them up, warm breath tickling your ear. The center of your world quakes as he continues with that low, soul-quaking tone.

"Do you want me to treat you like a princess? Worship your body and make it all about you, take you to another world as I take you apart?" Kishibe marvels at the broken whimper you make as he grazes his teeth across your earlobe. "Or do you want me to be a little selfish? Show you pleasure as I know it, and change everything you think you know about carnal desire?" 

"Sir—"

"No," he warns severely, gripping your thigh in warning, pulling back to look you in the eye. 

"Kishibe," you correct yourself with a breathy whine that you hope doesn’t sound ridiculous. "Kishibe, I want you to choose."

"You want me to choose?"

"Th-that's why I chose you. You always- always know what's best."

That's so far from true, but in this realm of possibility, with you blinking those sweet little doe eyes down at him, Kishibe won't be the one to correct you. "...Alright."

"Then please take care of me." Please.

This time it's him who shudders. "Alright," he murmurs again, "Alright, sweetheart. I've got you."

He’s a little gentler this time as he tugs your chin down to him, meeting your lips in a delicate kiss that has all his nerves standing to attention in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. With other women, he has no reason to be slow or gentle. With other women, both parties know what they’re there for, but this isn’t like that. You aren’t like that. You’re young, and if you’re to be believed, untouched. Pure. And you’ve put yourself in his care, begging for him to remove that purity. He’s not sure he ever would have agreed to this if he were sober, so you lucked out. Or maybe this is what you wanted all along.

Kishibe groans softly as you timidly move to respond to his kiss, alcohol sweet on your breath. You at least seem to know what to do here, parting your lips and staying pliant as he learns how you taste, moving your tongue against his as he explores your mouth. He breaks for a moment, giving you a warning and enough time to stop him, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m taking this off now.”

He waits, and when you do nothing but moan, he begins to pop the buttons of your shirt open, one by one from the bottom up, exposing your navel, and then the black cotton bra beneath. You kiss him deeper as he slides a hand up your spine, rocking your hips into his lap as he pulls at the clasp, undoing it in a practised move. The fabric falls loose, and he presses a hand to your sternum, forcing you to retreat.

Your lips are slick, a little swollen, but it’s the hazy look in your eyes that has all his attention. “You good, sweets? You even gonna remember this in the morning?”

“I will. I will, 'm promise. Please keep going,” you slur, not really giving him the best vote of confidence. 

“Take that off for me.” Kishibe tugs loosely at your bra, the cups hanging just low enough for him to get a peek at your areolas. His cock is straining in his slacks now, but he’s too invested for it to be uncomfortable yet. He meant it when he said he was going to take you apart, and he’s going to do it slowly.

You blink at him, and timidly slide the straps off your shoulders. Your movements are slow, but there’s less hesitance than he’s seen so far. It’s clear you’re more worried about his disapproval than any insecurities you might have. Good. 

“Good girl. Look at you,” Kishibe is quick to dole out the praise as soon as your tits are exposed, half for your confidence and half because they really are pretty tits. He’s reaching for them before even he can process what he’s doing. Your nipples are already hard, pulled taut and looking painfully neglected, either from your own arousal or the air. It could be cold in here for all Kishibe knows, but the air around him feels thick, heated and charged. He’d be suffocating if he weren’t so focused.

You take a shuddering breath as he holds them. His touch is so light, the pads of his fingers calloused and warm, stroking over the sensitive flesh. You want more, arching into his touch as much as you dare, still unable to shake the thought that he might change his mind and end this, but for now he doesn’t disappoint. Dazed, you realized the sharp gasp that bites the air is yours as he strokes the pads of his fingers over your nipples before tugging lightly, pleasure rippling hot under your skin.

Your head tosses back in a moan as he does it again, this time his lips brushing the curve of your breast as he pulls you forward, pressing your chest closer to his face. He sucks at the fat of your breasts, still gently tweaking your at your hardened nubs, working his way over, seemingly content to explore.

Pleasure moves hot and slow under your skin, but your mind keeps rocketing from one sensation to another, making it impossible to think beyond the man beneath you. His slick tongue moving against your skin, the heat and wet of it stroking over the edge of your areola, the rough pad of his thumb, the scrape of his blunt nail over the sensitive tip of your nipples, the same callouses gripping at your back, fingertips tickling the edge of your shoulder blade. 

“Quit it,” Kishibe grunts after a minute, and you realize you’ve twisted your hands into his hair, tugging him closer and trying to drag him to where it feels like he’s purposefully avoiding. 

“Please, Kishibe, please,” you moan, blissfully unaware of the minor tantrum you’re throwing at you grind down on his clothed erection. “Your mouth.”

“What about it?” He blinks at you lazily, taking the moment where you sit back to tug at the top few buttons of his own shirt, exposing the top of his chest and a peek of the dark hair that’s hidden beneath.

“Let… Let me feel it,” you breathe out after you’ve snapped your eyes away from that new detail.

The slow grin that spreads across his features feels like the first key in the series of locks that surrounds the man in front of you, a piece of him that he doesn’t share willingly. Something that has to be brought out, dragged out, a prisoner in a cage of its own making. 

“Be more specific, sweets.”

But he’s still the same man, he just exists in varying shades. You squirm for a moment, subject to self-consciousness, but the ache in your nipples, growing tighter in the continued neglect, wins out. You cup your own tits, pushing them out as you lean back down to him. “Want it here. Need to feel you suck on them.”

An appreciative gleam brightens dark eyes. “There’s a good girl.”

This time Kishibe leans in with intent, and you learn something else—your mentor is a goddamn tease. 

His tongue drags over your nipples before sucking, and your hands are tangled in his hair again before you can process it, a cry in a pitch you don’t even recognize torn from your mouth. The slick muscle flicks over the tip as his free hand comes up to roll the other between his fingers lightly. You’re shamelessly rutting into his lap now, senselessly chasing the pleasure boiling low in your stomach, and you can feel him moan against your skin at the friction.

You feel the scrape of his teeth, light and intentional, before he pops off and switches to the other. The treatment begins anew and you swear you might be able to come from this, the wet suction of his mouth, the tacky warmth as he tugs and twists at the nipple still covered in his spit. But Kishibe doesn’t let you, noting the frantic ruts of your body and beginning to slow his efforts, easing you back down.

“Wait—” Your complaint rears itself as your fingers twist into the shorter hair of his nape, trying to tug him closer the moment he pulls away.

“Easy, I’m not done with you,” he rasps, taking your wrists and gently detanging your fingers from his hair. 

You yelp as he grips your thighs and flips your back to the cushions, a strength you already knew he had from all the times he’s stomped you in training, but it surprises you regardless. There’s no time to pick through your thoughts at the display, because Kishibe is bullying between your thighs and capturing your lips in a kiss that puts the last one to shame. It’s possessive, it’s plundering; erasing any other thought from your mind except the way he feels against you. How immovable he feels, his hips keeping your thighs spread, his obvious arousal against your core, his weight against your torso—whatever isn’t supported by his forearm against the cushions, just what he chooses to give you—the scratch of his stubble against your face, the ones he lets overgrow because they shadow his jawline again in less than a day. 

You moan into his mouth as a hand slips between your bodies, pulling the button of your slacks and pushing a hand into your panties, the sound turning into a high keen as he drags his fingers through your slit. You know you’re wet, soaked even, but it’s still a shock to feel your own wetness as he pulls back out, slick against your mound before he’s free of your clothing, to see it shining on his fingers when he pulls back to give you a breath. You knew you wanted him, but to see how much would be mortifying if he knew the truth.

The glisten on his fingers goes unnoticed for a second as he catches sight of your wrecked expression, sitting back on his haunches.

“Oh sweets, look at you,” Kishibe chuckles, voice tight. “You’re a pretty sight right now, and you don’t even know. A sweet little mess. My sweet little mess, for tonight.”

Making a decision, he swipes his hands on the thighs of his pants and undoes his shirt, tossing it over the back of the couch, aware of the way you stare from beneath him. He's getting there in years, but the aches of this job refuse to let his body go soft. There's a thin layer of soft skin stretched across the muscles beneath, making the definition less pronounced, less assuming, but there's no denying the power behind them as he flexes subtly, smirking when your eyes track the movement. 

"Hips up," he orders firmly, his fingers already tugging at the waistband of your slacks.

Not needing to be told twice, you shift and raise your hips as he pulls them from your legs, panties and all. You're completely bare under him, and he's still wearing his pants, the button popped, looking like a god above you. His eyes are piercing, his expression set like marble. As he puts hot palms on your thighs, spreading them even further apart, you think about how attractive he looks when he smokes, almost wishing he had a cig hanging from his lips so you could see it. 

Kishibe is staring intently at your pussy, the hunger in him growing deeper as he watches the muscles twitch. "So no one's ever touched this, huh?" 

You shake your head, whimpering as he pulls your sticky lips apart. 

"You lying, sweetheart? Not even you?" 

Kishibe pulls back the hood of your poor swollen clit, stroking it lightly with the tip of his finger, dark eyes watching your face intently. 

The touch rips a gasp from your throat like ice had been poured down your back, tossing your pretty little head back into the pillows as your fingers twist at what little slack the cushions beneath you have. Kishibe feels the flames of hell crawl a little closer to his own flesh as his arousal flares dangerously at the sight. 

When you remain silent he prompts a little cruelly for an answer, slowly circling the throbbing bud. "Hmm?" 

"I've-yeah I've touched it. Sometimes." 

"Tell me." 

"Tell you?" You suck in a harsh breath as one of his digits teases your entrance, but pulls away. 

"Yeah, tell me how you touch your pussy at night. I wanna know how you play with yourself." His voice drones with detached amusement but his dark eyes are sharp, the sight making your skin prickle with elation to be the center of his attention.

“Usually slow,” you breathe out, moaning when he moves to your clit again. Two fingers press on the bundle of nerves and begin to rub back and forth in a steady tempo. 

“Like this?” Kishibe murmurs, watching you closely.

“Slower,” your voice breaks an octave higher as he increases the pressure just a little, readjusting to what you now realize are instructions for him. “Y-yes, mm, like that…”

“Good. How about your fingers, hmm? You do that slow too?” 

You can feel yourself dripping down to the couch as his voice drips across you like honey. “Yeah, at first.”

“One to start?” 

“Fuck!” A keen tears from your throat as he slides the first digit in, abandoning your clit, the thick, calloused digit pressing in to the hilt with zero resistance.

“Or do you start with two?” Kishibe watches raptly as his middle joins his pointer in the rippling warmth of your cunt, the broken sob leaving your lips sending a irresistible wave of want tearing through his body. The way your hips grind into his touch, chasing more of him is enough to let him know that you can take more, but he lets you stay here for a moment, using his free hand to stroke over his confined cock as you writhe beneath him. 

It’s not hard to find the right angle to stroke your slick walls, curling his fingers up into the spot that has you tossing your head back with what almost sounds like a mournful wail, as if you’re just realizing that you’ve never really given yourself real pleasure before. Kishibe isn’t sure if you have to be honest, you haven’t said, but he isn’t concerning himself with that. He’s too focused on the way you shy away from his touch when he presses his thumb to your clit again, as if you can’t take the combination.

“Oh?” It’s almost a coo, delight pulsing in his veins. “Not like that huh? That not how you do it?”

“I can’t, I can’t—it doesn’t, n-never like this!” It almost sounds like you’re pleading with him, your eyes wide as you stare at him, a thick haze of shock and bliss covering your irises that Kishibe is losing himself in, pumping his wrist, tempted to add a third finger just to see what sounds you’ll make.

“Told you I’d change everything you think you know about pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls his digits from your pussy, relishing in the whine of protest. And if he’s being honest with himself, there’s a bit of a power complex rushing through him, to be able to control your pleasure whether you think you can handle it or not is too alluring. It’s the thought of making you scream, nothing barred, as he forces ecstasty on you that you don’t even know exists on that has him pushing off the couch which a groan to finally free his cock, shucking his pants off, the liquor leaving him a little unsteady. 

“Sit up for me.” 

You do as he says, confusion scrunching you expression as he settles between your legs, his knees protesting only a little as he shifts so that the plush carpet isn’t dragging uncomfortably against his skin. A little yelp stays in your throat as he tugs you to the edge, spreading your thighs wider and positioning your hips up to expose your pretty pussy. He’s only a breath away, the scent of you thick, kissing distance really, when you slur out some nonsense that sounds questioning, but he can’t say he actually catches any sense of syllables from you.

“I’m thicker than most so you need this,” Kishibe grumbles, nipping at your inner thigh as you squirm and glaring you into submission, “But even a man with a pencil dick better be doin’ this for ya, so don’t accept less.”

Before you can come to terms with him on your knees before you, your mind fizzles out as his tongue swipes through your folds, and his groan vibrates deep into your core. If not for his hands keeping your thighs spread, you would have wrapped them around his head. His nose nudges at your clit as his tongue presses into your clenching pussy, and you can’t stop the garbled sound of pleasure as he laps at your walls, your head tossing back against the couch cushions as he eats you like a meal. It’s surreal, it doesn’t make a lick of sense but oh god you don’t care. The sounds of him slurping at your cunt makes your cheeks burn and you force yourself past your self consciousness to look down at him, the skin of your knuckles stretched tight as you curl them into shaking fists, trying to wrap your mind around the sensations. 

Kishibe flattens his tongue over your clit, and meets your gaze with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slips a finger into you, savoring the way you clamp down right away, giving a reedy mewl. He can’t help himself any longer, one hand closing around his dick and beginning to slowly stroke himself, trying to go slow, to ease some of the pressure and calm himself down. He adds another digit, and sits back as he begins to work you towards your finish. 

“Should’ve done this in a bed,” he mutters under his breath, the scent of your pleasure thick, feeling mildly guilty as you tremble through your long awaited awaited high. Even his first encounter had been in a bed, traditional.

Kishibe hisses into your thigh as your fingers twist so tight into his hair that he’d snap at you if he were anywhere but here. Here with his fingers sweeping over your clit, watching the way your muscles ripple and tense, an obscene amount of slick and cum dripping onto his couch, and damn it why are you so easy to spoil? Why is he letting you practically rip the hair from his head as your hips jolt and jump, pleasure taking every ounce of your control away from you. There’s a wet sound as he finally pulls his fingers from your cunt, and you slump against the cushions, a looking so beautifully fucked out that it’s a damn shame you haven’t actually been fucked yet.

But that’s what you came here for, and Kishibe will not be the one to disappoint. He pushes to his feet for a moment and drags your hips until you’re both on the couch comfortably, and lets himself sink between your legs, his dick hot and throbbing against your inner thigh. It’s weeping precome and there’s a shivering sense of relief to know that his patience is finally about to be rewarded. 

“You still with me, sweets?” Kishibe murmurs softly, leaning over you, letting his lips drag up your throat in a possessive trail of teeth marks and bruises. “You ready for me?”

The prickle of his overgrown stubble brings you back down a little, and you moan as his tongue swipes over the indentations left in your flesh. “That was—” you gasp at a sharp dig of his teeth under your jaw, hips arching towards him as you feel the weight of his dick between your slick folds, thoughts flying from your mind as the thick tip of him slides over your oversensitive clit. “Oh fuck, Kishibe please. I need y- I need it, oh god.” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he really is going to ruin you. You can’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this good, so overwhelmed but so hungry for it.

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers, and your body lights up as he shifts back a little, the head of his cock pressing against you and easing inside your desperate walls. He grins as your arms wrap around his shoulders, lips searching for his as your hips try to squirm deeper onto his cock. He meets you in a deep kiss, but he grips your hips firmly, sliding deeper into your clenching pussy at his own content pace, groaning into your mouth at how hot and wet you are. So tight, so so tight, that he can’t stop the juvenile thought about being sure you were a virgin from flitting through his mind, but he lets it go, not about to sully this experience for you with his own pussy drunk stupidity, closing his eyes and falling deeper into the kiss, forcing you to slow it and calm down for him, echoing your whimpers with tiny groans of encouragement.

His thrusts are as steady and measured as they can be with the way your walls suck him in, pussy lips stretched wide around the thicker middle of his shaft. Every time he pulls out he can feel the way your body is trying not to let him go, and every sink home is accompanied by a shaky little exhale from you that sets a fire so deep in his gut that Kishibe is sure the whiskey is the only reason he hasn’t fallen to pieces yet. You’re so pretty and needy sprawled about beneath him, so sunk to pleasure that you’ve resigned to just taking what he gives you and it’s addictive. His cock throbs as he listens to your mumbled little slurs about how good it feels, and he has to pause, breathing deep and hard as he wills down a sudden and fierce urge fill you with cum.

Kishibe chuckles as he sits up and you let out a whine of disapproval, but a slow roll of his hips changes your tune immediately. You’re sucking him in greedily, your clit swollen and damn near begging for attention. He brushes it gently with the back of his knuckles, hissing as you squeeze him in response, getting impossibly wetter around his length. “Doing so good for me, how are you feeling?”

“More, want more.” It’s barely intelligible with how breathless you are, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes down your temples. Your face is so sweet, so open, trusting and needy and suddenly Kishibe can’t find it in himself to draw it out on you any longer, is done handing out pleasure piece by piece, as if he were passing out candy to savor. He wants to pour pleasure over you, wants you to drown in it, to fall so deeply into it that there’s nowhere to surface to, lost in an endless sea.

One strong arm slides under your hips and pulls you up into a better position, fingers digging into your hip as Kishibe begins to fuck you in quick, steady strokes. His forehead is pressed to your chest, cheek in plush of your breast as he controls his groans, a dark satisfaction choking out the last tendrils of guilt as your fingers desperately weave their way back into his hair once more, cradling his head tightly to your chest. There’s no more irritation; the sharp sting feels like a fucking prize, knowing that the price is an overwhelming pleasure that he can feel through you. You feel so good around him, responding so well to his movements, angling your own hips and moving back into his thrusts, that he can’t stop a continuous stream of curses and praises from melting into your skin.

“You’re doing so fucking good for me sweetheart, so good. Squeezing me so tight, wrapped around me so perfect. You feel good? Everything you fucking wanted, hm?” He bites at the flesh of your chest as you tighten around his dick, goosebumps rising visibly across your skin.

You feel like a live current, so electric and buzzing with energy and it feels like there’s nowhere for it to go, zipping up and down your body only to return, shivering and sparking deep in your belly. You try to articulate that this is way more than you ever thought you could ask for, but all that comes out are bitten hiccups of his name and yes and please please please.

Kishibe is more than happy to oblige, grunting and groaning in his throat, way past the point of feeling guilty that you’re losing your virginity on a goddamn couch, too caught up in your drunken slurs, more from pleasure than whiskey.

He grins as your fingers clench around his bicep, scrabbling as you gasp out, "Ohh, nngh—Sir wait, wait! Please I'm gonna—" 

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Kishihe groans, feeling the rippling constrictions of your sweet pussy drag him closer to the edge.

"No, I'm—I'm gonna pee! Please." 

Kishibe’s s head picks up off your chest immediately, and his thrusts stuffer. "Yeah?" You watch panting as his eyes sharpen, hips coming to a full blessed stop. You feel a bare moment of relief before its ripped away and he's moving again, fucking you a little faster than before. "Then go ahead." 

You give a wordless cry, shame and pleasure clamoring in the shrill note, your head shaking back and forth in denial. You can't hold it, not if he does that. 

"No?" Kishibe feels like the Devil himself as he shifts his angle into a grind, still fast and controlled, watching your features twist as you keep fighting to hold it back. "Am I not making you feel good?" 

"Sir!" Your whine draws the title out, panicked, but your knees dig tightly into his hips, your body at least betraying you. Kishibe works a hand under one of your thighs and presses it towards your chest. One of his palms drags down over your tits, stroking down your stomach to put a gentle pressure over your pelvis. Your eyes fly wide and a moan is forced from your lips as the awful urgency thickens, bliss flooding close to the surface. 

"If I press here you won't be able to stop it." 

Kishibe's stare catches your glazed eyes, dark and hungry. His orgasm is approaching steadily now, pleasure whispering selfish instruction in his ear, and he's unable to help but listen. "You'll come so hard it won't matter anymore. What's a little mess for some pleasure, hm sweetheart? If you want it just tell me." 

Your breath catches. His dick keeps hitting that spot in you that makes it impossible to think rationally. He's making you feel so good, goading you in that voice of his that you've worshipped fervently night after night in your apartment, a pillow as your altar. 

The voice in your head is screaming no. It's pee. He'll think you're disgusting and you look up to him so much. You don't want him to associate you with something like this, to so thoroughly debase yourself. But he's making you feel amazing, his cock bullying all your softest parts with undefinable experience. You've heard the gossip about how your mentor likes to spend his nights, but how are you supposed to complain when he's making you feel like this? And he's the one saying you can p— 

"Get outta yer fucking head and come for me, girl." Kishibe growls through his teeth, palm pressing down firmly, calloused thumb spreading over your neglected clit. 

You shatter and cry out, clutching at him tightly, no room for apologies as you tear red lines down his back. Warmth gushes against his pelvis, but the hot shame holds no candle to the blistering pleasure crackling across all your nerves. Listening to Kishibe groan and curse, the feel of him breaking down into something more genuine as his hips snap roughly into yours in chase of the bliss you’re already neck deep in, you’ve never felt more satisfied. He finishes inside you with a deep grunt and your insides flutter again at the milky warmth, your leg curling tight around his ass because you want all of it, you don’t want it to end yet.

But finally, his cock twitches one last time inside you and begins to soften, and Kishibe collapses on top of you with a little puff. You’re damn near ready to purr in happiness at the full weight of him across your body. His cheek rests between your breasts, but you’re unbothered by the scratch of his stubble as his breathing gets deeper, steadier.

Both of you are covered in sweat, cum, and other unspeakables but you’ve never been so comfortable. His softened cock slips out of you, and one of his arms slips under your waist and you feel your heart thud unevenly as he moves to his side and pulls you closer. His head is still buried in your chest, your one leg tangled between his thighs and your other draped over his hip. His eyes are closed, breathing deep and you find it in yourself to cautiously run your fingers through his hair. Kishibe gives a soft, sleepy rumble of contentment and you glow.

The feel of his hair between your fingers is the last thing you remember before the most luxurious drag of sleep tempts you into its clutch of darkness.

You wake somewhere you don’t recognize, your head thick and pounding awfully. You blink slowly in the low lighting and try to sit up, but your head spins and the pain increases so you let yourself fall back with a low whimper.

You turn on your side, fingers curling into the soft covers over you. Last night had been amazing, but you’re certain you had passed out on on the couch, and as you peer around the curtain-darkened room, it’s easy to tell it’s not the same. You don’t remember being moved; you’d like to say you would have woken up if someone had, but even you can smell the alcohol seeping from your pores. 

Heart pounding unevenly, you try to calm yourself. You’d been dressed in a soft pair of boxer briefs and a tshirt far too large for you, and while you still feel a little bit sticky, you honestly had expected far worse—someone had tried to clean you up. Your heart starts to race now, fluttering and far too fast at the idea of Kishibe taking care of you. Those are a lot of extra steps to take for someone who preached respectable distance. 

“There’s painkillers on the nightstand.”

You finally manage to sit up at the promise of pain relief, seeing the foil tablets and a glass of water, and glance at Kishibe in the doorway, looking about as disheveled as you expect you do. He’s in a loose tshirt and a soft, worn looking pair of sleep pants, blinking sleep and liquor from his eyes as he peers in at you. 

“I’m gonna shower, you should too. There’s towels in the bathroom there.” He nods his head deeper into your room and you see another doorway, probably leading to the bathroom. “And you’re out of luck on breakfast. All the place has is coffee and water.”

Your stomach gives a displeased turn at that, desperate for something to offset last night’s alcohol. Before you can say anything, not even so much as a thank you, Kishibe turns and shuffles down the hall. 

Slowly, you ease out of the bed and gratefully swallow down half the water before even glancing at the pills, but your screaming head does make sure you toss them back as well, before you peek down the hallway your mentor had disappeared down. You hear the sound of running water and follow it, wandering through the doorway to the room he obviously slept in last night, the bed an unkempt mess of blankets. The door to the bathroom is closed, and there’s already steam filtering through the gaps.

Letting an uncharacteristic determination carry you forward, you open the door and begin stripping off your clothes.

“Get out, sweetheart.” Kishibe’s voice sounds tired and distant, filling you with nerves that you refuse to let show on your face as you ignore him slip into the shower.

He’s working soap through his hair, leveling you with a deeply unimpressed look that would have sent you skittering before last night, before he called you his sweet little mess, before he called you good fucking girl. You take a deep breath and speak your mind.

"I want that again." 

His response is flat, immediate. "Not gonna happen." 

"Why not? Was it not good?" You look embarrassed and distraught at the thought and Kishibe heaves a sigh. 

"How good it was has nothin’ to do with why we can't do this again." 

“So you regret it?”

Kishibe isn’t sure where he stands on that yet. “Didn’t say that.”

"But then..." 

"But what? I told you this was a bad idea didn't I? You should've chosen someone else. Anyone other than me." 

You get a little salty at that. "I might be younger than you," Kishibe gives a sardonic huff "—but I'm still old enough to make decisions for myself." 

"Old enough to make your own decisions, huh." 

You shift under the water as he gives you a tired stare, his gaze sharpening into something more contemplative, glinting dangerously. 

"So you're saying you want that again?" Kishibe questions calmly. 

"Yes," you whisper, uncaring if it makes you sound desperate. 

"If we do I've got some stipulations," he warns, voice low.

"Like what," your breath hitches as he leans closer, the water getting hotter against your back as he reaches past you to adjust the temperature. 

"Well for starters," he grumbles, "I don't have any interest in going to your place. It's here or nothing." 

"Fine." Your response is immediate, relief coloring your tone that you're not being immediately shut out. 

"And this arrangement will be temporary, no matter how long it goes on," Kishibe continues slowly, his fingers coming up to pinch your lips together, cutting off whatever you were opening your mouth to say. "I'm not the kind of man that would treat ya like you're nothin'. I'm gonna tell you you're sexy when I've got you under me and I'm gonna clean up whatever mess I make of you, so I need to know you're not going to confuse common decency and respect with love, got it?" 

You nod slowly, struggling to wrap your mind around the weight of his words. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, you just want more of whatever you can get. It's just a crush, maybe you'll figure out how to squash your feelings somewhere down the line. So you get a little hurt along the way, so what? You're not entirely sure how any of that is a problem and why he looks so serious.

"Anything else?" He hasn't spoken for a minute, but you can still see deep thought etched into his expression.

Kishibe glances at you, soap dripping from his hair down his neck. "Yeah, one more thing."

It's the most damning thing. Makima herself would be proud of him for this. This kind of thing is more her style, but he's already made it this far. 

"Ya have to join the civilian sector."

He senses more than feels you stiffen behind him, closing his eyes and beginning to rinse his hair out as he waits for you to speak first. He's not blind, not anymore—after last night he'd really have to be to not understand the way you've been looking at him, probably since the beginning. Kishibe doesn't know how he didn't see it sooner, probably willful ignorance. But his eyes have been opened and he can't unsee it; you're a brat; you wear your heart on your sleeve, and for whatever reason…its flag is flying his colors. So he's going to use that, and you can thank him when you survive the year.

"Join the civilian sector?" Your voice trembles.

Kishibe glances down to see you chewing your lower lip. "Or quit. Find a cozy desk job somewhere. Either works."

"Why?" Your demand is fierce but it's weak; you look like a scruffy little kitten that needs shelter but too scared to come out of the rain. Kishibe can see you crumbling already, making his final stab. Why you'd want him this bad is beyond him, but dirty tactics have never been beneath him. 

"If we're doin’ this, you're going to be available to me when I want you. Otherwise I can find others, like I've been doing. Finish up in here, and I'll make some coffee. Might as well go to the office together."

Despair crosses your features, and Kishibe lets the silence do the last of the work, stepping out of the stream and reaching for a towel. He makes quick work of drying off and getting dressed, bones aching for coffee. Curiosity pangs deep in his nerves as he wonders why killing yourself in Public Safety is even worth that expression, and why he’s equally as important as whatever it is. He tries to put it out of his mind and fails, fingers tapping on the expensive countertop.

As the coffee percolates, Kishibe hears the water shut off and the mental image of you stepping out of his shower flickers through his mind, ghosting along the memories of the way you felt beneath him last night. He tries and fails to admit to himself he’s not coming out entirely on top in this situation.

When you finally slip into his kitchen, dressed in your crumpled uniform from last night, you’re no longer wearing that brokenhearted little face, and Kishibe braces himself for whatever little pep talk you managed to give yourself while he was gone. He pushes a mug towards you and the sugar he somehow found while he was waiting. 

“I have my own stipulations,” you grumble finally, accepting the mug without looking at him, spooning sugar into it. He wants to wince at the shriek of metal on glass as you stir, but he doesn’t.

“If I have to quit the hunter society to be ‘available to you’, then you have to be available to me.” Your eyes are a little heated as they finally meet his, and Kishibe gives a noncommittal hum. “Meaning you don’t get to sleep around. Just with me.”

Ah. Makima would be proud of you too, Kishibe muses to himself. He decides to let you feel that victory and puts on a show, feigning annoyance. He drums his fingers on the counter and gives you a dry, measured look. “What, sweetheart, want me to get tested or something?”

You rise to his bait, snapping a little. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”

“Fine.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. “Maybe you should too, since you’re so worried about my health.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks at the thought of making that appointment, but you push through it. “Fine, I will. I’ll be needing to get on birth control anyways.” The barest hint of shock flickers through his expression before he slams it back to its usual tired smirk.

“Anything else?” He asks, sarcasm barely kissing the edge of his tone.

Your thoughts scramble to all the things you’d listed to yourself in the shower but with him looking at you like that, bemused, confident, smug, you forget most of them. You latch onto one thing and give him a glare. “I get a key. And I can sleep here whenever I want. I’m not waiting outside in the cold to be your booty call.”

Kishibe gives you a look and starts to pull a pen out of his jacket but changes his mind. He watches all the bravado and irritation drain from your expression as he steps into your space, melting into something else, something expectant, electric. He pretends he doesn’t see it, pretends that his blood doesn’t pick up at the sight of it, and whispers the passcode to the apartment, so close to your ear that he could bite it. Could.

He pulls back and listens to your shuddering exhale, tilting your chin towards him. “That’s for you only. I don’t give people access to my personal space, got it?”

You nod dumbly, eyes wide and body hot as his dark eyes flicker to your lips.

“Then I guess we gott’a deal, sweetheart.”

[writeandsurvive]

Author's note: just a little Gibbs idea I've had in mind. Maybe I'll get back to writing for him more... :) maybe it's because I'm binging NCIS from the beginning again. I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible, hope I did well. Also, it's not proofread and I'm not a native English speaker.

Summary: you're babysitting your brother's twins by yourself and ends up calling for help.

Warnings: age gap, I guess?, talk of near death experience, taking care of babies, reader not wanting kids, siblings banter

Babysitting ~ Leroy Jethro Gibbs

"Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Seriously? It's the fourth time you're asking. We're gonna be just fine!" You reassured your brother, as you're sitting on the play mat your ten months old nephew and niece. If you were completely honest, you were a bit anxious about babysitting the twins all by yourself as it was the first time. But you couldn't let your brother know that, as he was already struggling to leave.

"All you have to do is feed them, change their diapers at some point and put them to bed." He got down to pick up his daughter, finally saying goodbye.

"I promise they will be alive and in one piece when you come back. Hopefully, tomorrow morning." You grinned at him before grabbing your nephew and gentle holding him on his feet. "Now go daddy, have fun." You said with a baby voice, like it was your little dude saying it. After one more kiss to his girl, he put her down and did the same with his son.

"It's just a work thing." He told you for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, but the beautiful single mom from your office will be there."

"She left just a month ago. I'm so not ready to jump into anything." He couldn't bring himself to say the name of his wife and mother of his children. One day, she just decided that being a mom and a wife wasn't for her and she took off. Which is why you were babysitting that night.

"Don't jump into anything, just jump on her."

"On those elegant words, I'm out. Bye babies, I love you!" He sent them kisses as he was walking towards the door. "What are you doing?" He asked when he noticed you were following.

"Going to a party of course!"

"Don't leave them out of your sight! Even for one second!" He scolded.

"They are on their mat, playing!"

"And your niece is starting to crawl!"

"Just leave and bang someone."

"And you wonder why you're still single..."

He finally left but not without holding his shoulder after you punched him.

"Okay babies! We can do this, right?"

Turned out, you couldn't. Or at least, it wasn't going as smoothly as you thought it would. Shortly after your brother left, your niece started to cry her heart out, wondering why daddy wasn't there, for sure. Then, your nephew decided that he wasn't going to eat. The food didn't seem yucky to you but it was to him, and he thought throwing around and at you was funny. So did your niece. By this time, your brother had already texted you twice and you obviously lied. The little boy being covered in soft food, you decided to give them both a bath, hoping it'd tired them a bit. But they both were very much against the baby shower gel, and your niece pooped in the tub. Which made everyone almost throw up.

After a (very) long struggle, they were finally in their PJs, clean and ready for bed. You thought a break was coming, but your niece had a meltdown. Which caused your nephew to have one too. You didn't know what was wrong, you tried everything you could to calm them both but nothing was working. You contemplated calling your brother several times, but it was his first night out since she left and you didn't want to ruin it for him. After over an hour of struggle, you did call someone.

"Gibbs," he answered.

"How much do you love me?" You immediately asked over the crying. You barely heard him chuckle.

"I'm on my way."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you one!"

You didn't know how long it took your team leader to show up at your brother's house. But somehow, as you were trying to soothe the twins on your brother's bed, you felt a presence behind you. "How did you get in? You know what, I don't care. Help me, please, I don't know what to do."

Whether or not the twins noticed that there was someone else in the room, they weren't stopping. Gibbs got closer to you, look down at the twins. "First, you're gonna take a deep breath."

"They are crying bloody murder!" You exclaimed.

"The more frustrated and anxious you get, the more they'll cry." You felt his hand on your shoulder and his gentle squeeze. You closed your eyes, tried to block the noises and took a deep breath.

"Now, are they fed? Changed?"

You wanted to give him a snarky comment as you always do, but didn't have the patience for it. So you just said yes.

He grabbed your niece into his arms, "Grab this little guy and do what I'm doing." You followed his instructions. Holding and bouncing your little man a certain way. After the eventful evening, you almost missed how incredible Gibbs looked with a baby in his arms, how gentle and soft he was. Such a natural. You nearly stopped everything when you heard him starting to sing a lullaby. It was quiet and you could barely hear him above the crying. That's when you realized that only your nephew was still crying. "You stopped." He warned you. "Don't get frustrated, hon. Sing to him."

You took another deep breath and did as told. Slowly, your nephew was calming down. It was magic.

"Lead the way to their bedroom." He whispered.

He put down in the little girl in her crib, and helped you putting down the baby boy, as he noticed you were too scared of waking him up. You stayed there for a moment, silently looking down at them, Gibbs right next to you.

"It's official, I do not want kids."

Gibbs chuckled and slid his hand in the back of your neck, bringing you to him so he could kiss your hair. You took the opportunity to go for a hug and he gently returned it. It suddenly became much easier to breathe.

"Is the baby monitor on?"

You checked, and grabbed the part you were supposed to keep with you.

"I need to change." You said after leaving the bedroom.

"You can take a shower."

"Do I look that bad?"

"You look like you need to relax."

"True. Will you be there when I get out?"

"Yes, give me the monitor." You did and felt shivers all over your body as his long fingers brushed against yours.

"Grab anything you want from the fridge. I'll be quick."

"No rush."

It was one of the most amazing shower you've ever had.

You knew you didn't want to have children most of your adult life, but it just got confirmed. You didn't want this to be your daily life. You loved kids, and you loved the twins more than anything in the world, but you didn't need one of your own.

When you reached the kitchen, it was sparkling clean. The big mess from dinner was gone. The toys were put away. Gibbs had his back turned to you as he was doing the dishes. "I don't know if I want to scold you or kiss you." You regretted the last words as soon as they got out.

Gibbs looked at you over his shoulder with a smile. "You're welcome."

"Seriously, you didn't have to!"

"No problem! You accepted to babysit twins after the crappy days we've had at work."

"Yeah," you sighed, remembering the awful case the team dealt with and only closed a few hours ago.

"How you feeling?" He asked, turning off the water and drying off his hands.

"How you feeling?" You retorted, earning a shy smirk from Gibbs.

"I'm fine." He reassured you, or at least, tried.

You got closer to him, grabbing the hand towel for him to put it away, and locked eyes with this man you've been in love with for a very long time. "You almost got killed, Gibbs." You said barely above a whisper.

"It comes with the job." He just said.

"Doesn't make it okay when it's such a close call." You could see the scene again. The bullet rushing so close to his head. A few centimeters to the left and Gibbs wouldn't be anymore. That thought hurt. It scared you more than anything else. And you couldn't control the tears forming in your eyes.

"I'm okay." He said one more time, knowing that you needed to hear it. So did he.

You felt his arms slowly wrapping around you, and before you knew it, your face was buried in his neck, as you inhaled his unique scent deeply. You held onto him tightly. "I can't lose you. Not you. Ever."

But you would, one day. Him being older than you, you knew that and Gibbs definitely knew it too. Which is why he never acted on his attraction and feelings for you. He knew you were feeling the same, he knew you were in love with him - even though he couldn't understand why or how. He could easily have given in, and enjoy whatever moments with you. But he refused. He couldn't do that to you, nor to himself. Everyday in this job, he could lose you too. That bullet could've been for you and not miss. Losing Shannon - and Kelly - was the hardest thing he's ever had to go through, and he couldn't bare the idea of losing another partner, especially you.

Which was why he tried to get you to leave NCIS several in the past few years. At first, it was pointing out how this job sucks - he loves it but he's a bit of masochist -, how you'd be better off doing something safe. Then it was introducing you to someone who had move on from this job and never felt better. And lately, it was asking Vance to find you a desk job you would actually enjoy. But nothing worked. You were still there, by his side, in harm's way.

Would it hurt to give in just this once? He wondered as he felt you clutching onto him. You fitted so perfectly in his arms, you smelled so good. You were showing your vulnerability, which you rarely do, with anyone and Gibbs found it very appealing.

He was looking down at you, you were looking up. He could lean in a few inches and his lips would reach yours. He started to, very slowly. But before it happened, your phone went off. You rushed to it, not to answer but mostly to shut it down, after it would wake up the twins, despite them being upstairs.

"Seriously!" You said after picking up.

"Just wanted to check in. Are they safely in bed?" You rolled your eyes.

"Of course not, I told you we were having a party. Can't you hear the music? Do they prefer scotch or bourbon?" You saw Gibbs smiling.

"You suck."

"So do you. Go back, and enjoy your night out, idiot."

"Hey, wait. Are you--sure it's not too soon for me?"

"She left, bro. Screw her. Whether it's a one time thing or more, as long as you're happy with it, just go for it. You deserve some fun."

"Says you, who can't move on from her boss, even though nothing ever happened. I mean, I tried to introduce you to some nice pe--" you hung up before he could finish. You knew Gibbs hear the entire thing.

"I'm, uh, gonna check on the twins."

But he held you back. "They are fine." He whispered.

"You already knew, didn't you?" You could look into his magnificent blue eyes. "That's why you've been trying to get rid of me?"

He sighed and brought you closer. His nose in your hair, his lips against your forehead. "I can't lose you either." He whispered, returning the vulnerability you showed earlier.

Hearing those words, you didn't think twice. You lifted your head up and crashed your lips on his. Gibbs didn't have the strength nor will to fight it. He intensified the kiss quickly, backing you up against the wall, where it happened for the very first time.

First of many.

[sailorstar9]

Running Into The Ex-girlfriend At The School Reunion

“Hyoma...” Shika Sotomi, Chigiri's girlfriend for three months, sang. “Let's go together. Aw man, we're gonna be in different classes in 3rd Year. I'm so sad.”

“We're in the same school.” Chigiri reminded, the couple was walking to the Rajitsu Tech soccer club. “We can see each other any time.”

“That's not what I'm trying to say.” Shika pouted. “You're the school's top player, you're gonna go pro when you're older.”

“Sorry, Hyoma.” Shika called out after school some time later. “I promised to hang with a friend today. I can't go home with you.”

“Got it.” Chigiri waved her apologies off and headed off for soccer practice.

“Sorry, I've got a new boyfriend.” Shika called Chigiri out shortly after he tore his ASL. “Let's break up.”

“Boyfriend?” the redhead was taken aback. “You 'have' one, even though we haven't even broken up?”

“Keisuke-kun asked me to go out with me yesterday.” Shika shrugged. “I didn't wanna let him get away because he's got more potential than you. Anyway, now that you're injured, I have no use for you anymore.”

Time passes, in the Manshine City soccer team hostel...

25-year-old Chigiri received an email on his personal laptop, an invitation to the upcoming high school reunion.

After much consideration and discussion with the older Wanima twin, he accepted the invitation.

On the day of the school reunion...

“Chigiri, I didn't think you'll come to things like this, so I'm surprised.” one of Chigiri's former female classmates greeted. “Long time.”

“Listen and be shocked.” Wanima Junichi piped in. “Both Chigiri and myself are players in the Manshine City soccer team.”

“That's amazing.” the women gushed. “I knew you two were great at soccer and I thought you'd become something great.”

“So, are you single now?” one of the braver women pressed. “I'm currently looking for a boyfriend.”

“I also broke up with my boyfriend last year.” another woman added. “Are you free tonight?”

“Hyoma!” Shika called out and everyone turned around.

“I didn't see Sotomi's name on the invite list.” Junichi was confused as everyone took in Shika's rather unstylish outfit.

“I came to see you.” Shika spoke. “I want to talk.”

“We can talk here.” Chigiri stood his ground.

“That's okay.” Shika stammered. “That's great. You're a professional soccer player? You were always great at soccer.”

“How do you know that?” Chigiri asked.

“Junichi-san is always in contact with his younger brother, so I confirmed it with Keisuke-kun." Shika answered. "Hyoma, let's start over.”

“What?” Chigiri echoed in disbelief. “Now, with me? You were the one who said Wanima Keisuke had more potential than me.”

“Sorry, I was wrong.” Shika wailed. “I learned that it means nothing to just have potential in high school.”

“So, it's all about money?” the other women realized that it was all about.

“I didn't say that.” Shika protested.

“Didn't your last boyfriend see you only as an ATM? He made you spend money on him and then tossed you away after he drained you dry and leaving you with all his debt.” a female classmate explained. “Money is indeed important, but it's a little too good to be true to change your mind about a person you made fun of right after they make money.”

“You were saying that?” Junichi snapped. “Now you want to get back together because you have no money. It's too coincidental.” he moved the entire party to another table. “Shika still hasn't gone home yet.” he noticed the lone Shika drinking in the corner. “She hasn't given up on you yet.”

“I'm going to the restroom.” Chigiri excused himself.

“Hyoma.” Shika cornered the speedster outside the men's toilet. “You were in front of everyone else, so you couldn't say how you really felt, right?” she snuggled up to Chigiri. “I know you well. That's why I wanted to talk alone. You still like me, right? I'll go out with you. You've always been relaxed, so your feelings aren't obvious.” she continued, despite Chigiri slapping her off him. “But in high school, I felt that you liked me. You just can't express how you feel, right? It's okay. I get you.”

“I struggle to understand why you think I still like you.” Chigiri retorted. “First of all...”

“Hyo-kun.” F/N called out, a two-year-old toddler in her arms.

“You just came?” Chigiri walked over. “How did you know I was here?”

“Keiichi woke up from his jet-lag and started wailing for his daddy.” F/N replied. “Wanima-kun told me you were in the restroom. And that Satomi-san had chased after you.”

“Hyoma?” Shika splattered, seeing Chigiri's arm around F/N's waist

“I'm already married to F/N.” Chigiri explained. “And as you can see, we have a son.”

“What?” Shika exclaimed. “What's so good about that plain wallflower? I'm... my skin is a little dry right now, but if I go back to my normal lifestyle and work on myself, I'm beautiful. I'm so much better than her.”

“You still talk like that.” Chigiri sighed. “Before she went for that Germany scholarship after I tore my ASL, she made me a senbazuru; there's no way you can beat F/N. She wrote an encouraging quote in each and every origami paper. Also, I don't choose people based on looks. When we were going out, I liked you because you were honest. But, you changed. Those who can only look at people's qualifications will attract the same type. You brought this upon yourself. We're leaving.”

“So cute...” returning the reunion table, all the women cooed over Keiichi. “I knew F/N had all of us beat when she left that senbazuru to Chigiri.”

[msjaeger]

That Wasn't In The Script (Actor AU)

//// Btw this contains hints to spoilers from the last episode/ chapter 139 so if for some reason you haven't watched it, DO NOT READ!!!!///

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"So tell me, guys. How do you guys feel knowing that the Attack on Titan is officially over? Like, that show will forever go down in history!"

Allen, the host of the official Attack on Titan talkshow Attack the Talk, asked your castmates and yourself. You were currently sitting on the stage in between Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirschtein, with the rest of your cast, Mikasa Ackermann, Armin Arlert, Connie Springer, Levi Ackermann, Reiner Braun and Annie Leonhart. You could see a few of your old castmates, those who were killed off in meaning, behind the stage watching with smiles on their faces.

"Let's start with you Ms. L/n, shall we?" The audience clapped as you bashfully smiled at Allen. Sure, you were a main character in one of the best fictional TV shows of the century. But you sucked at public speaking. At least acting was really only your castmates and wonderful team watching at the moment.

You cleared your throat before speaking, feeling your friends' eyes on you and giving you supportive looks.

"Well, Allen, this franchise has been part of my entire life. Literally. I started this show when I was about 9 and now I'm 19. So it ending is almost like the end of my childhood, which may seem kind of sad but it was fun while it lasted and I got to meet these wonderful people that I can joyfully call my family." You feel Eren lift his long legs onto your lap and you stop talking and stare at him.

"Get your nasty ass feet off of my dress."

Eren shook his head playfully and gave you a charming smile. "Nah. You said we're family and family lets their family rest their feet on them." You knock his feet off of you.

"Yeah but not when they're wearing a thousand-dollar dress. Let me finish my little speech, Jaeger." Eren held his hands up defensibly, causing the crowd to burst out laughing from the scene of the dynamic between you two.

"As I was saying before bird-boy over here interrupted. It's easy to say that I'll talk to these people outside of the show and end up never speaking to them again like other casts do but it's different. I grew up with these people so throwing them away would be like throwing my childhood away as well."

The crowd clapped at your little speech, along with your castmates. Expect Eren was literally clapping in your ear. "You're so childish, Eren." You chuckle.

"Only for you, L/n." He grins.

"How about... Connie! How do you feel about the show ending?" Allen moves on to hear other, hopefully just as sentimental, speeches.

Connie ponders for a moment, trying to figure how to answer the question as truthfully as possible. He fiddles with his expensive tie before seemingly having his words together.

"At least we won't be drug tested every three months. I'm gonna be fried every day!"

"No fucking way he just said that." You whisper.

The crowd falls into an awkward silence at Connie's... revelation. You watch as Jean smacks the back of his head. "Shut your bald ass up, Springer. We're 19 and 20 so smoking gas is still illegal, dumbfuck." Jean whispers harshly. Connie's face falls.

"Oops."

"Um... I'll just... can we edit this out?" Allen asks nervously. The cameraman shakes his head. "We're live, remember?" Levi lets his face fall into his hands, mumbling profanities to himself.

"Time for Audience Q & A!" Allen changes the subject quickly. That seemed to distract everyone watching in the crowd as people began to raise their hands, hoping to be picked.

Allen hopes down into the crowd and makes his first decision. "You! With the... Y/n x Smiling Titan shirt?" You hear Eren cackle beside you as you elbow him. "Shut it, you howling witch."

A man who looks like he hasn't showered since the premiere of the show and seemed a bit too old to be fixated on a show involving younger kids was chosen. Not to mention he had shipped you with the smiling Titan.

"He looks like a Discord mod," Jean mutters in your ear.

"Jean, that's mean. It may be true but it's mean." Jean rolls his eyes and gives you a cocky grin.

"It's only mean if it's not true."

"This question is for Y/n." The man announced into the microphone. He had a lisp and not the cute and barely noticeable sort that Armin had. Jean and Eren slightly stiffen.

"Let him ask you some weird shit, Y/n. I'll beat his ass on camera." Eren mutters. Jean watched warily as you waited patiently for the man's question.

"Who is your favourite character from the entire show? And why as well." The man's spit sprays into the mic due to how severe his lisp was and Allen visibly winced.

You think for a moment.

"Probably Eren's character." Eren jumps out of his seat and starts acting like a child.

"Boom, she said I'm her favourite. You all can suck my di-" You grab Eren's sleeve and yank him back into his place next to you.

"Sit your grown ass down."

"Sorry."

"Someone please take the boy into his seat." Levi pleads quietly while rubbing his temples. He had dealt with Eren for the past ten years and still couldn't handle his... personality.

"As I was saying. Eren is probably my favourite character because of how tragic he is and what he represents. He wanted freedom so badly that he never realized that he was a slave to it, which is such a great parallel if you think about it. He purposely hurt his friends in order to protect them too, knowing that they'd be the ones to kill him. I could go on for hours about this but we're on a time crunch so I can't." You chuckle nervously. You feel Eren smiling at you widely from your analysis of his character.

The man seemed content with your response and sat down. "Alright, who's next?" A girl raises her hand and Allen seems to think she's normal enough and hands her the mic.

"Hi, my name is Amelia and just want to say that Jean is so fine and that he doesn't look like a horse most days." Eren, Connie and yourself had to stifle laughter as you watched Jean pursed his lips, contemplating how to take that comment. Allen sighs and raises the mic to his lips.

"Please refrain from... whatever that was."

More people asked questions that were surpringly normal and everyone on stage at least answered five times. A little boy, around the age of 9, eventually got the mic and he looked extremely nervous to talk. His mom gave him encouraging words and he took a deep breath.

"H-Hi my name is Jackson. I-I was wondering if I could take a picture with everyone to show everyone at show-and-tell." He asked poliety. Your heart melted at how adorable the little boy was. You wave up him up on stage.

"Of course! Come up here, little man." Jackson broke out into a toothy grin and ran up to the stage as fast as his little legs could carry him. Armin helped him up onto the stage and Jackson's mom came closer to the stage to take the picture.

Jackson stood in front of you and you placed two hands on his shoulder. You smiled and felt someone wrap an arm around your shoulder before the picture was taken. It was Eren.

Jackson, after the picture was taken, turned around and wrapped his arms around your waist. "Thank you so much!" He exclaims. You wrap his arms around him as well, "Of course Jackson. If it's alright with your mom, I would love it if she sent the picture to me.". Jackson's eyes widened.

"Mommy, please send her the picture!".

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:.

As the end of the talk show neared, Allen had returned to his seat and faced the camera.

"As the end of the last Attack the Talk episode nears, I wanted to do something special for the cast. I've gathered everyone going back all the way to season 1 right now and we are going to play a special video we've prepared for today. Everyone, if you could come out."

You watched as people you hadn't seen for years entered the stage. People such as Petra, Carla, Marco, Moblit. Everyone. You saw Sasha and Historia, who you hung out with just as much as the rest of the cast but you were still excited to see them.

Everyone gathers in front of the big screen, waiting to see what the crew has prepared for a final goodbye.

"You guys all worked hard, whether you were killed off in the first episode or survived until the very end. You all played a vital role in the story that is Attack on Titan and we all thank you. So we decided to put together a montage, if you will, to share your behind-the-scenes experiences one more time. I really hope you enjoy it."

You turn your attention to the big screen as it begins to play. The first scene was of you, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin as little kids. It was a scene from the very beginning of season 1. You guys were running around the town until you tripped over a loose rock and flew through the air. You still had the scar from the rough landing. You heard the director yell a stammered, "C-Cut! Someone gets the medic!".

The scene cut to the next, where Eren was yelling at Hannes for being a lazy drunk before he stumbled over his words, causing Hannes to burst out laughing. "Cut!"

Blooper after blooper, you watched yourself grow up. And it felt really weird. Nostolgic but extremely weird. There was a scene where Connie and Jean were supposed to be arguing about plans to kill Eren during Season 4 but things turned... odd.

"Bro if you don't watch what you're saying, I might have to dick you down!" Connie screams passionately. Jean scoffs. "You wish you could dick me down the way I dicked your dad down!" Jean screams back.

"Jokes on you, my dad got turned into a Titan!" You stare at Jean, who looks like he is about to run into oncoming traffic. He makes eye contact with you and begins to stammer quietly.

"We were joking, I swear!" He whispers harshly. You pat his bicep. "It's okay, Jean. I support you."

"Go to hell."

The scene shifted into a picture where Jean and Connie were about to be turned into titans in the last episode but instead of having their arms around each other's shoulders, like scripted, their hands rested on each other's asses.

You lean into Jean's shoulder and let out a muffled laugh. "Shut up before I make you bald as Connie." He threatened lowly. "And how would you do that, mate?"

"I'll shave your head in your sleep."

Your eyes widen in horror at his statement. "Please don't! I love my hair." You frown. Jean shrugged and stretched an arm around you and rested his arm. "I'm not an armrest, horsey."

"Fuck off."

The very last scene was when everyone had visited Eren's grave, a sentimental moment in the show.

Okay, not really.

"Bro really had to wipe out 80 percent of the population, huh." Mikasa scoffs beside you. You shake your head. "Right? Like if you're gonna wipe out humanity, do it right. He really let us stop him with only 20 percent left. Weak!" You look down at the grave.

A fork can be seen flying across the camera and hitting you in the head. "What the fuck?!" You screech, searching around for the culprit.

"Stop insulting my character!" Eren yells as he runs into the frame and tackles you. Before you could hit your head on the ground, Eren placed his hand behind your head to make sure you didn't injure your head. But he still had to get payback.

You could hear the director sigh from behind the camera and mumbling about taking a smoke break. Suddenly, Sasha had run into the frame as well and jumped on Mikasa and Connie and you watched as everyone began running around like children, tackling each other and laughing.

The video faded into black and remained blank until two words in white cursive faded into view.

Thank You.

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Idk how I feel abt this because I've been dead on Tumblr for like a year or smth. But I forced myself to resurrect because Attack on Titan is over and idk what to do with my life anymore😜 anywho lmk if I should make a part two because this is really iffy for me.

[abandonedvirtualfriend]

!!Welcome/rules!!

Hi, welcome to this ask blog I (@athreus99) made for fun since I'm currently into the game KinitoPet and felt like making my own version of Kinito and then this AU

Basically this version of Kinito has abandonment issues

Backstory of Abandoned!AU

Basically, in this AU, Kinito would've been around when Windows XP was still being used and had an old user/friend. One day the user told Kinito that they would be back the next day, so he waited....a day...week....a month....a year....Kinito also had the ability to turn on his computer at will, but chose to not do it often as to not scare his friend, but it's been a long time now, so he figured he check to see if his friend is alright and coming back soon....he saw that the computer was just put in storage somewhere, it had finally dawned on him that his friend wasn't coming back.....but now in the modern day, he's shocked to see that the computer is actually being turned on by someone new. Perhaps he can do better this time, he can be a better friend than he was before and do everything right...maybe..this time..they would stay.

Design

!!Rules!!

No NSFW

Please be respectful to everyone

I'm allowed to not respond to an ask if I feel uncomfy or something like that

Please be patient and don't constantly ask when I'm gonna post, I have school and other things irl outside of this blog, but I'll try my best to answer as soon as I can.

Please don't spam asks

Fanart is welcome (again, please no NSFW)

Multiverse stuff (like AU Kinito's) are welcome!

[scarletqueenx]

chapter ten - mystery spot

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean and you had dated for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for. You.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

series masterlist

You and Dean had not yet talked about what had happened between the two of you. It seemed stupid to define your relationship when Dean barely had a few months left to live. Still, it was quite evident that something had changed between you. And that night had just been another example of it.

In the middle of the night, after another nightmare, you had half-asleep walked over to Dean's bed and laid down beside him seeking comfort and safety. He wrapped his hand around your waist to hug you against his body as you placed a leg between his. A gesture Dean used to hate when you dated, but now it had become one of his favorite things about sharing a bed with you.

Heat of the moment

The song playing on the radio woke Sam and you that morning. His eyes widening as you shifted and grunted against the pillow, stretching your hand across the bed, reaching for Dean's body.

Telling me what your heart meant

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed sitting on the edge of the bed you were sleeping to tie his shoes. "You too, sweetheart." He turned his gaze to you, placing a hand on your bare leg.

"Dude." Sam grunted, looking at the radio. "Asia?"

"Come on. You love this song and you know it." Dean looked back at him.

"Yeah, and if I ever hear it again I'm gonna kill myself."

Not listening to him, Dean turned up the volume.

"What? Sorry, couldn't hear you."

Sam chuckled as you grunted against the pillow, trying to cover your ears with it.

It was the heat of the moment

Dean started bopping along, as he lay on top of you, leaving kisses on your shoulders while seeking to pull the pillow away from your face. Sam shook his head in amusement.

"Stop it." You groaned, turning around between Dean's arms. Your half-asleep eyes meeting his as a smile peeked over his lips.

Heat of the moment Heat of the moment Showed in your eyes

He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you right then and there. As you lay on what was his bed, looking up at him with your face half asleep and your messy hair spread across the pillow. But Sam's throat clearing brought him out of his thoughts, forcing him to break away to let you prepare to leave the room.

"Whenever you're ready, Dean." Sam said a couple of minutes later when Dean was finishing cleaning his teeth.

Coming out of the bathroom Dean walked over to his bag and pulled out a black bra.

"This yours?" He turned to you with a smirk. You looked at him unamused, finishing tying your shoes and grabbing your jacket from the back of a chair. Letting out a laugh, Dean put what was in fact one of your bras back in his bag before pulling out his gun. "Bingo."

"Can we go?" You asked. "I'm starving."

Dean nodded, walking pass Sam and you and out of the motel room. After deciding on a small diner, the three of you entered the place.

"Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett." The cashier said to a old man after handing him his change.

"Yeah, yeah." He grunted in response, walking pass you and out of the diner.

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal. You know the rules." Said the waitress behind the bar, which make you look at her, seeing a man sitting there.

"Some coffee." Cal answered, passing her some change.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke." Dean noticed a poster on the wall that displayed the specials for the day. You frowned as you sat next him in the booth he had chosen.

"You even know what that is?" You asked. Dean turned to you, shrugging.

The waitress from behind the bar walked towards you, allowing you to read the name on her name tag. Doris.

"You folks ready?" She asked, pulling a pad out of her apron.

"Yes. I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee." Dean said with a smile.

"Make it two coffees and a short stack." Sam added.

"Yeah, I'll have the same as him." You smiled at the waitress.

"You got it." She nodded, writing it down before leaving the table.

"You both are boring." Dean said, turning back to look at Sam and you.

"Why? Because we don't eat as much as you do?" You asked with confusion. "Sorry, I have the stomach of a regular person."

"Whatever." He sighed, fixing his gaze on his brother. "I'm telling you, Sam, this job is small fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela."

"Okay, sure, let's get right on that. Where is she again?"

"I still can't believe you let her steal the Colt." You commented.

"Shut up." Dean grumbled. "And we didn't let her."

"At least we still have my knife." You pointed out. "Thanks, mom."

"Yeah, thank you mom for being a witch." He muttered.

"Hey, that witch saved mine and my brother's life. And she never hurt anyone." You gave him an annoyed look.

"You don't know that."

"She was my mother, Dean." She reminded him. "It's not my fault that every witch you've ever encountered turned out to be an evil bitch. You hate them, great. Burn, witches, burn. But leave my mother out of it."

Letting out a sigh, Dean looked back at you with regret. But before he could say anything, Sam interrupted him.

"Look. Believe me, I want to find Bella as bad as you do. In the meantime, we have this." Sam said, pulling out some papers from his jacket.

"All right, so this professor." Dean sighed, looking at the papers and reading the headline on them: MISSING - DEXTER HASSELBACK LAST SEEN IN BROWARD, FLORIDA.

"Dexter Hasselback was passing through town last week when he vanished." Sam explained.

"Last known location?" You asked, looking at the papers over Dean's shoulder.

"His daughter says he was on his way to visit the Broward County Mystery Spot." Sam answered, sliding a flyer over the table. Taking it in your hands, you took a look at it.

"Where the laws of physics have no meaning." You read aloud, showing the flyer to Dean. Sam shrugged, not knowing exactly what that meant.

Just at that moment Doris came back to the table with a tray of food and three coffees. She set the food and drinks down on the table before reaching for the bottle of hot sauce. "Three coffees, and some hot sauce for the-" She said but was quickly interrupted when the bottle of hot sauce fell off the tray and smashed on the floor. "Crap! Sorry." She apologized, turning to look back. "Cleanup!"

After finishing their food the three of you left the diner, walking past a dog that barked in your direction, but quickly quieted when you petted his head and gave him a smile. Dean snatched the Mystery Spot flyer from his brother's hands and looked at it once again with a scowl on his face.

"Sam, joints like this are only tourist traps, right? I mean, you know, balls rolling uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling, they're only dangerous to your wallet." He said.

"Okay, look, I'm just saying, there are spots in the world where holes open up and swallow people. The Bermuda Triangle, uh, the Oregon Vortex-"

"Broward County Mystery Spot?" Dean cut him off.

"Well sometimes these places are legit."

"All right, so if it is legit, and that's a big-ass if, what's the lore?" Dean asked, letting out a sigh.

You ran to catch up with them. And just as you started to walk beside Dean a blonde girl carrying a stack of paper bumped into your shoulder, quickly apologizing without barely looking at you.

"Excuse me."

The woman's touch sent a shiver down your spine, bringing with it a sense of unease and a faint sense of impending danger. It was as if someone was trying to whisper a warning into your ear. It was only a whisper, but it was enough to send a jolt of anxiety through your body.

"The lore's pretty frigging nuts, actually." Sam words brought you back to reality. "They say these places the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend spacetime, sending victims no one knows where."

"Sounds a little X-Files to me." Dean said as you passed two movers with desk that was clearly never going to fit in the door they were trying to get it through.

"Told you it wouldn't fit." Said one of the movers.

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?" The other one asked with annoyance.

"All right, look, I'm not saying this is really happening, but if it is, we gotta check it out, see if we can do something." Sam said as you continued walking, not paying much attention to the movers.

"I think Sam is right." You spoke. "It's worth a look."

"All right, all right, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look." Dean finally accepted.

The best time to go to a place like that was at night, where there were no tourists visiting around. Night also meant the need for flashlights, which was why you found yourself aiming your flashlight at the front lock so Dean could pick it. When the door opened, you handed another flashlight to him before stepping inside.

The hallway was illuminated by a neon green light with a black double spiral painted on the walls and door. The last one to enter, Sam, closed the door behind before following Dean and you up the hallway with the EMF reader in his hand.

"Wow. Uncanny." Dean said in a sarcastic tone as he shined the flashlight around and up onto a table, lamp, and ashtray attached upside-down to the ceiling.

Still with that uneasy feeling in your body, you looked to Sam in search of answers.

"Find anything?" You asked.

"No." He answered. You sighed.

"You have any idea what you're looking for?"

"Uh... yeah." Sam looked up at you as you raised your eyebrows skeptically. "No."

Shaking your head, you shared a quick look with Dean as you both shine the flashlights around other parts of the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" A forth and unknown voice asked you. Turning around, you encounter an older man, probably the owner of the place, holding a gun aimed at the three of you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa. We can explain." Dean said as he watched the man pointing his gun towards you.

"You robbing me?"

"Look, nobody's robbing you, calm down." You tried to stay calm as you took a step forward but the owner wasn't happy with that as he cocked the gun causing you to freeze in place.

"Don't move!"

"Alright. Alright. I won't move."

"Just putting the gun down." Dean said. What happened next was very quick. The owner moved his gun, aiming it at him and pulled the trigger. The bullet struck Dean in the chest, knocking him to the ground from the impact as blood came out of his mouth.

"Oh, God. Dean." You fell to your knees beside him, one hand covering your mouth as you let out a gasp. Sam soon came to your side, crouching down on the other side of his brother as Dean struggled to breathe. Holding tears in your eyes, you lifted your eyes up to the owner. Your gaze becoming much colder as you gripped the handle of the gun attached to your belt. "What the hell have you done?"

"I didn't mean-"

"Hey." Sam exclaimed. "Call 911!"

"I-I didn't mean to-"

"Now!"

Taking one last look at you, the owner nodded before leaving the room.

You returned to your knees next to Dean, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks at the state he was in. "Hey, Dean. Dean, stay with me, okay? Don't close your eyes. You have to-"

Suddenly Dean stopped breathing, his chest freezing from the lack of air in his lungs.

"No. It wasn't suppose to be like this." Sam whispered as he look at his brother.

"Dean." Your voice cracked.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Heat of the moment

Yours and Sam's eyes snapped open by the sound of the radio. You shifted and grunted against the pillow, stretching your hand across the bed, reaching for Dean's body as you remembered what had happened the previous day. Dean was dead.

Telling me what your heart meant

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" The sound of his voice made you frown in confusion as you turned your body. "You too, sweetheart." Dean placed a hand on your bare leg, sending a shiver down your body.

Confused, you lifted your body up on your elbows to look to the bed where Sam lay. Seeming just as confused as you were, Sam shared a quick look with you before directing his eyes towards the clock radio.

The heat of the moment Showed in your eyes

"Dude. Asia." Dean smile, lacing up his boots.

"Dean..." Sam tried to speak.

"Oh, come on, you love this song and you know it." Dean said, turning up the volume and bopping his head to the beat of the song. It was exactly like the first time it happened.

As he began to sing, Dean walked to the bathroom, leaving Sam and you completely speechless.

"What...?" Unable to articulate the question that was on the tip of your tongue, you turned your stunned gaze to Sam. "He was dead."

"I know." He nodded.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was a dream or..."

"Or?" You raised your eyebrows.

"I don't know. I know the same things you do." Sam assured you with frustration.

"We couldn't have had the same dream. Couldn't we?" You asked.

"Don't you have witch's blood?"

"But I destroyed the book, the powers are gone."

"Are they?" Sam got up from his bed, walking over to the one Dean and you had shared last night to sit next to you.

"Are you guys hungry?" Dean came out of the bathroom, looking at the scene before him with confusion. His eyes fixed especially on the anguished faces of both of you. "You two all right?"

"Yeah. Perfectly. Right, Sammy?" You tapped his shoulder lightly as you stood up. "Very hungry." You smiled at Dean as you walked past him into the bathroom.

Confusion grew in Sam and you as you watched things happen just as they had the day before. Not only Dean, but also the people in the diner.

"Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett." The cashier said to a old man after handing him his change.

"Yeah, yeah." He grunted in response, walking pass you and out of the diner. After seeing him disappear behind the door, you turned to Sam not knowing what was happening.

Dean was completely oblivious as he walked past you and found a booth to sit in. The same booth as the day before. You sighed, sitting down next to him. Sam stared around, bewildered as he sat in front of you.

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal. You know the rules." You looked at the bar watching how Cal passed some change at Doris.

"Coffee." Cal answered.

It couldn't have been a dream. It was all happening the same exact way. Maybe Sam was right to blame your family history and it had all been caused by powers you didn't know how to control.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke." Dean noticed a poster on the wall that displayed the specials for the day.

"It's Tuesday?" You asked with confusion before looking at Sam who seemed as shocked.

"Yeah." Dean nodded as Doris walked towards your table.

"You folks ready?" She asked, pulling a pad out of her apron.

"Yes. I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee." Dean said with a smile.

"Uh, nothing for me, thanks." Sam said when he noticed Doris eyes on him.

You cleared your throat before speaking. "Just coffee."

"Ok." She nodded looking back at Sam. "Let me know if you change your mind."

"I'm telling you, Sam, this job is small fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela." Sam and you paid little attention to Dean's words as your eyes followed Doris in confusion. Yet again, that shiver of unease shot through your body, a silent warning that something was wrong. Its presence been too strong this time for you ignore. "Hey." Dean snapped his fingers in front of your faces. "You two with me?"

"What?" Sam and you asked at the same time.

"You sure you feel okay?"

"You don't-you don't remember? Any of this?" Sam asked with a sigh.

"Remember what?" Dean frowned.

"This, Dean." You stated. "Today. Like it's-like it's... happened before?"

"You mean like déjà vu?"

"No, we mean like, like it's really happened before." Sam said.

"Yeah. Like déjà vu." Dean nodded.

"No, Dean, forget about déjà vu." You spoke in frustration. "I'm asking you if it feels like, like we're living yesterday all over again."

"Okay, how is that not dé-"

"Don't, don't say it!" Sam cut him off angrily. "Just don't even..."

Doris arrived with a tray food, two coffees and hot sauce. She set the food and drinks down on the table before reaching for the bottle of hot sauce. "Two coffees, and some hot sauce for the-oops! Crap!" Noticing how the bottle of hot sauce was going to fall off the tray, Sam reached out to catch it before it hit the floor. Doris gasped as Sam looked at the bottle in his hand in confusion before handing it back to her. "Thanks." She said before walking off.

"Nice reflexes." Dean said.

Oh, Sam and you were definitely doing crazy.

Not only were all those things happening the same way as the day before too much of a coincidence, Dean didn't seem to remember anything either. And if that wasn't enough, you were still feeling that unease feeling in your body. Something had been warning your about that place.

The dog barked as you walked out of the diner and pass him. You ooked at him but this time you didn't petted his head, you kept walking besides Dean.

"Dean, I really need you to listen to us, okay?" You insisted. "This day has happened before. Sam and I-"

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Okay, look." Sam sighed. "Yesterday was Tuesday, right? But today is Tuesday too."

You nodded.

"Yeah. No. Good. You're totally balanced." Dean said sarcastically.

"So you don't believe us?!" Sam asked with frustration as the blonde girl carrying a stack of paper bumped into your shoulder.

"Excuse me." She said, walking away.

"Look, I'm just saying that it's crazy, you know, I mean, even for us crazy." Dean said. "Dingo ate my baby crazy. Hey, maybe it was another of your psychic premonitions."

"I'm sorry, what now?" You stopped on your tracks.

"It's... It's a long story."

"Oh, believe me, I have all the time in the world. Because if we're not crazy like you say, Sam and I will relive this day all over again." You stated before looking at Sam. "You're a psychic?"

"No, I- We should focus on this. We'll explain it to you." He assured ñ.

"Why do I have the feeling that I will regret this?" You watched them closely. "Okay, look, we were at the Mystery Spot, and then-"

Seeing you stop talking, Dean looked at you with confusion.

"And then what?" He asked.

Taking a deep breath, you looked over to Sam. You didn't want to say it out loud.

"Then we woke up." Sam answered as you past the two movers.

"Told you it wouldn't fit." Said one of the movers.

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?" The other one asked with annoyance.

"Wait a minute! The Mystery Spot. You think maybe it-" Sam stopped, looking at his brother and you.

"Maybe what?" Dean frowned.

"We gotta check that place out. Look, just-go with us on this, okay?"

"All right, all right, we'll go tonight, after close, get ourselves a nice long look."

Shaking you head, you froze in place, placing a hand in front of Dean to stop him from walking any further.

"No. We are not going there."

"Why not?" Dean looked at you with confusion.

"Uhh... You know what? Let's just go now. Right now. Business hours, nice and crowded." You nervously suggested.

"My God, you're a freak." Dean muttered.

"Dean..."

"Okay! Whatever. We'll go now." He assured walking ahead of them and into the street.

Just like the shot the day before, the next thing that happened went by very quickly. A car appeared practically out of nowhere on Dean's left side, hitting him as he was crossing the street.

"Dean!" Sam and you rushed to him, kneeling by his side.

"Dean, no, no, no." Sam cried, his voice filled with anguish. "Come on! Dean."

"What the hell have you done?!" You rose back up, confronting the driver as Dean took his last breath.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Heat of the moment Telling me what your heart meant

You were starting to get sick of that song. Even with the theory that you would relive that day once again, you didn't expect to see Dean die another time. Frustrated and exhausted, Sam and you grunted against their pillows.

"You guys sure are grumpy this morning." Dean commented, sitting down on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots. "Come on. Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Sitting up in his bed, Sam looked around the room.

"You too, sweetheart." Dean turned his gaze to you, placing a hand on your bare leg.

The heat of the moment Showed in your eyes

Turning over slowly, you shared a glance with Sam before rising to your feet and walking toward the bathroom. Your steps steady and full of frustration. Noticing that, Dean frowned, glancing over at his brother.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked. Sam shrugged, letting out a sigh.

The morning started the same way as the two previous days. You followed your same steps and met the same people until you reached the diner. Although, this time, Sam and you tried to be quicker in explaining to Dean what was going on.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke."

"Okay, would you listen to us, Dean?" You asked with exasperation. "'Cause we are flipping out."

"Are you folks ready?" Doris asked as she came to your booth.

"He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee, black. Nothing for me, thanks." Sam quickly replied without bothering to look at her.

Taken aback by his quick response, Doris wrote down the order in her pad before looking at you, once again seated next to Dean.

"Nothing." You answered.

"Okay. You got it." She nodded, leaving your side.

"Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that." Dean said with a teasing smile.

"Quit screwing around, Dean." Sam grunted, rolling his eyes.

"Okay. Okay. I'm listening." Dean sighed. "So, so–you think that you're in some kind of a what again?"

"Time loop." You answered.

"Like Groundhog Day."

"Yes, exactly. Like Groundhog Day." Sam exclaimed.

"Uh-huh." He nodded, even though it was clear for you that he didn't believe a single one of your words.

"You seriously don't believe us?" You looked at him in disbelief. "Demons are real, vampires, ghosts, werewolves and witches. Without going any further, I have witch blood and your brother is a psychic, but you still don't believe us."

"Wait. How do you know about Sammy?"

"Because you told me yesterday. Which was also Tuesday."

"Okay, I'm just saying that it's a little crazy, I mean even for us crazy, you know, like, uh..."

"Dingo ate my baby crazy?" Sam asked.

"How'd you know I was going to say that?" He frowned.

"Because you said it before, Dean, that's our whole point."

Letting out a sigh, you looked up, finding Doris approaching your table again with the tray full of food and a coffee.

"Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the—whoops! Crap." Doris said as the bottles of hot sauce fall of the tray. Without even looking at it, Sam reached his hand and caught it before it hit the floor, handing it back to Doris. "Thanks." She looked at him impressed, leaving the bottle on the table before leaving.

"Nice reflexes." Dean said, just as impressed as Doris.

"No. I knew it was going to happen."

"Okay, look. I'm sure that there's some sort of an explanation..."

"You're just going to have to go with us on this, Dean, you just have to, you owe me that much!" You snapped.

"Wait, what-what are you talking about?" Dean turned, looking at you with a mixture of shock and complete confusion.

"You left me in a motel room, remember?"

"I thought we were past that."

"Yeah, but you still owe me this." You assured. Your voice firm and determined.

"Calm down..."

"Don't tell me to calm down! I can't calm down. I can't. Because—" You stopped talking, not being able to finish the phrase. Sam noticed that, feeling himself almost as unable as you were to put it into words.

"Because what?" Dean asked.

"Because you die, today, Dean." Sam and you answered at the same time.

Taken aback, Dean watched the two of you in silence for a couple of seconds. "I'm not gonna die. Not today."

"Dean, we've watched you die twice now." Sam said. "And I can't—I won't do it again, okay? You're just going to have to believe us. Please."

Seeing the overwhelmed look on his brother's face Dean nodded. "All right. I still think you're nuts, but okay, whatever this is, we'll figure it out."

As Dean returned his focus to his plate of food, you brought your hand to her necklace, clinging to it as if it could do something to help you. Unconsciously you hoped your mother would do so from the afterlife. Sam turned to you, looking at you with sympathy. Dean was his brother, it was obvious that seeing him die would affect him, but he could also see how it was affecting you. The sparkle in your eyes that had appeared after getting back on the road with them was now gone. And your gaze once again had that lifelessness and hopelessness look with which they had found you the night Ophelia had attacked your home.

The dog barked at you once again as you exited the diner, and the blonde girl carrying a stack of paper bumped into your shoulder.

"Excuse me." She said, walking away without even looking.

Seconds after, you passed the two movers.

"Told you it wouldn't fit." Said one of the movers.

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?" The other one asked with annoyance.

You looked back at them, fixing your gaze in the desk they were trying to fit in the door. Good luck, you thought, as it was clear to you that the desk wasn't going to get through that door.

"And you think this cheesy-ass tourist trap has something to do with it?" Dean's question brought you out of your thoughts.

"Maybe it's the real deal, you know?" Sam said. "The, the magnetic fields bending spacetime or whatever."

"I don't know, it all seems a little too 'X-Files' for me."

"Well, I don't know how else to explain it, Dean!"

"All right! All right. We'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look."

"No, no, no, we can't." You were quick to answered.

"Why not?" Dean frowned as he looked back at you.

"Because you..."

"I what?" You stayed silence, which was enough answer to him. "I die there?"

"Blown away, actually." Sam explained.

"Huh. Okay, let's go now." Dean stated, walking ahead. You rushed after him, grabbing him before he ran into the street.

"Stay out of the way!" Mr. Pickett exclaimed, driving past them with his car.

Staring after the car, Dean started laughing until his eyes caught yours and Sam's faces.

"Wait, did he...?"

"Yesterday. Yeah." Sam nodded.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did it look cool, like in the movies?" He asked, which made you roll your eyes.

"You peed yourself." Sam answered, irritated with him.

Dean shifted, uncomfortable and embarrassed. "Of course I peed myself. Man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control over his bladder? Come on!" He exclaimed, carefully looking to both ways before crossing the street.

Sam and you couldn't help but share an exasperated look. Maybe if the one dying was one of your two the situation would be easier. But Dean was hard to handle and too stubborn to listen.

Although, maybe, you weren't ones to talk, as you also weren't approaching the situation in the most cold and analytical way possible. An example of that was how Sam had snapped at the owner of Mystery Spot by asking him a few questions about the place while posing as a journalist. The man had been the one who had killed Dean in the first place, which had triggered all the recent events. Not to mention that what had led you to that town was the place he owned, where a man had disappeared without explanation.

"Well, I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought—it's full of crap." Dean said, exiting the place.

"Then what is it, Dean, what the hell is happening to us?" Sam asked, desperate for an answer.

"I don't know. All right, let me just–So, every day I die?" Dean asked. Sam and you nodded. "And that's when you wake up again, right?"

"Yea, that's exactly what happens." You sighed.

"So let's just make sure I don't die. If I make it to tomorrow, then maybe the loop stops and we can figure all this out."

"You think?" Sam looked at him with hope in his eyes.

"It's worth a shot." Dean shrugged. "I say we grab some takeout and head back to the motel, lay low until midnight."

Sam and you nodded, both anxious, shaky, but mostly hopeful. Hopeful that maybe all of this madness will come to an end.

"All right, good. Who wants Chinese?" Dean smiled at you before he started walking again.

Just two steps. Two steps was what he had walked before a desk fell over him, smashing him to yet another death. A gasp escaped your mouth as you looked up the building. The two movers you had passed by that morning after breakfast stared at the scene form the window as they held the other end of the snapped rope.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Heat of the moment Telling me what your heart meant

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed as he sat on his bed, tying his shoes. "You too, sweetheart." He added, placing a hand on your bare leg.

The heat of the moment Shown in your eyes It was the heat of the moment

This time Sam and you had decided to explain everything to Dean on the way to the diner, with the hopes that maybe you'll win some time to finally fix whatever was happening.

"I still think you're nuts, but... whatever this is, we'll figure it out." Dean said as you sat in the diner.

"Thanks." Sam sighed.

"So, uh... If you two are stuck in 'Groundhog Day', why? What's behind it?" He asked.

"Well, first we thought it was the Mystery Spot. Now we're not so sure." You explained.

"What do we do?"

"Well, we keep you breathing. Try to make it to tomorrow. I mean, that's the only thing we can think of."

"Shouldn't be too hard." Dean shrugged.

"Yeah, right." Sam scoffed. "Dean, we've watched you die a few times now and we can't ever seem to stop it."

"Well, nothing's set in stone. You say I order the same thing every day, right?" He asked, looking back at you, as you were once again sitting by his side.

"Yeah. Pig in a poke, side of bacon." You answered.

With a small nod, Dean turned to Doris, who was standing by the window to the kitchen, talking with the cook.

"'Scuse me, sweetheart?" He asked and she turned around to look at Dean. "Can I get sausage instead of bacon?"

"Sure thing, hon." She said before turning back around to tell the cook.

Dean smiled, looking back at his brother. "See? Different day already. You see, if you and I decide that I am not gonna die – I'm not gonna die."

"Really hope you're right." You whispered, but he seem to hear you as his gaze traveled back to you with a confused look in his eyes. The look of distress on your face was breaking his heart a little. If he had to watch you die day after day he would go completely insane.

Doris walked over to their table and set down Dean's food before walking away.

"Thank you." Dean said to her and stabbed a sausage link with his fork. He bit into it and smile as he chewed. Sam smiled at that, and you were about to do the same, but as soon as you started to hear Dean fighting for air, that smile faded. You turned to him as he started to choke and hit his back but that didn't seem to work.

"Dean!" You exclaimed desperately, while still trying to help him breathe by hitting his back.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Heat of the moment Telling me what your heart meant

You opened your eyes once again, groaning against your pillow. "Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed as he sat on his bed, tying his shoes. "You too, sweetheart." He added, placing a hand on your bare leg.

The heat of the moment Shown in your eyes It was the heat of the moment

You had lost count of how many times you had heard that song when you woke up. Every day was exactly the same, with little changes caused by Sam and your desperation to end the loop. Each day ended the same way too, with Dean dead. Slipping in the shower, eating a bad taco, the deaths were getting more and more absurd, but he always came back the next morning, breaking your heart even more.

"Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett." The cashier at the diner said to the man as he gave him some change.

You ignored him as he passed by, but Sam bumped into him deliberately so he could take his car keys before the man could get into his vehicle and run over Dean once again when the three of you left the diner.

Sitting back down in the same booth, you sighed, looking at the man sitting at the counter with a pancakes plate and maple syrup. You had noticed him before, but with each passing day you felt a little more drawn to him. There was something off about him, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it yet.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke."

Sam sighed, laying a set of keys on the table. Dean frowned, looking at the them and then at him.

"What are those?" Dean asked.

"The old man's. Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel." Sam answered without any more explanations.

"You folks ready?" Doris asked as she approached your table.

"Uh, yes, we are. I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee." Dean answered her as he gave her a smile.

"Hey, Doris?" You asked, making her look at you. "What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You're a terrible shot."

"How'd you know that?" She asked in surprise. You shrugged.

"Lucky guess."

The woman didn't quite know how to respond to that, and the small, emotionless smile on your lips sent a shiver down her spine.

"I think you scared her off." Dean commented as he watched the waitress walk away from the table. "Okay, so you think you're caught in some kind of what, again?"

"Time loop." Sam answered.

"Like Groundhog Day."

"Doesn't matter. There's no way to stop it." You replied.

"Jeez, aren't you two grumpy."

"Yeah, we are. You wanna know why? Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row we've been through, and it never stops. Ever. So yeah, we're a little grumpy." Sam said rather quickly.

"Hot sauce." You murmured then, you gaze completely blank and emotionless. Dean turned back to you confused.

"What?"

Doris arrived with the food and coffee, setting everything on the table before reaching for the bottle of hot sauce. "Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the—whoops! Crap!" She gasped as the bottle slipped through her fingers, but Sam quickly grabbed, setting it down on the table without even looking at it. "Thanks." Doris said before leaving.

"Nice reflexes."

"I knew it was going to happen, Dean. I know everything that's gonna happen."

"You don't know everything." Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, he does. We both do." You said,

"Yeah, right." Dean and Sam said in unison. "Nice guess."

"It wasn't a guess."

"Right, you're a mind reader." They both said simultaneously, making you roll your eyes. "Cut it out, Sam. Sam." They lean towards each other as they continued. "You think you're being funny but you're being really, really childish! Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up he—". Dean got tired and threw up his hands in defeat.

"Okay, enough!"

"That's not all. Randy, the cashier? He's skimming from the register. Judge Myers? At night he puts on a furry bunny outfit." You explained. And as he overheard her words, Judge Myers, knocked over his glass. "Over there, that's Cal. He's gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home."

"What's your point?"

"My point is we've lived through every possible Tuesday. We"ve watched you die every possible way. We have ripped apart the Mystery Spot, burnt it down, tried everything we know to save your life, and we can't. No matter what we do, you die. And then we wake up. And then it's Tuesday again." You blurted out quickly in frustration. Dean watched you closely, noting the shaking in your voice and hands.

"Wow, wow. Okay." He took one of your hands. "We'll figure this out."

"Yeah, you say that every time. Well, guess what, Dean, we haven't figured it out."

You pulled your hand from his grip with uneasiness. Not from the touch of his skin, but from the aching pain in your chest. You were letting your feelings for him get out of control and if you weren't careful, when his real death would come. A permanent one in which he would not return the next day. You knew you weren't going to be able to take it and move on.

"Dog." Sam mumbled as you exited the diner.

Dean frowned, looking down once a dog started barking as you passed him.

"There's gotta be some way out of this." He said.

"'Where's my dang keys?'" Sam ignored him completely as he continued to predict everything happening around him.

"Where's my dang keys?" Mr. Pickett asked, searching his pockets for his car keys that Sam had stole from him minutes before.

"'Excuse me.'"

You collided once again with the blonde girl carrying a stack of paper.

"Excuse me."

Seeing how he was predicting each thing, Dean stopped in his tracks, putting his arms in front of Sam and you.

"What?" You looked at him in confusion.

"Hey. All the times we've walked down this street, I ever do this?" Dean asked walking after the blonde girl.

Sam and you shared a quick glance.

"No." You mumbled before going after him.

"A hundred Tuesdays and you never bothered to check what she was holding in her hands?" Dean looked up at you in disbelief. Sam and you shrugged. "That's the guy who went missing?" Dean pointed out as he held up the flyer.

"Yeah?"

"That's his daughter back there." Dean pointed to blonde girl. Sam grabbed the flyer and ran after the girl, leaving Dean and you alone.

Silence settled between you as you watched your surroundings looking for any threat to Dean's life. A part of you knew that his death would come sooner or later like the hundreds of Tuesdays before, but what little hope you still had left assured you that if you were able to save him just once you'd finally end the loop.

Dean's thoughts were somewhere else. To him it had only been a few days since you had rejoined him and Sam on the ride. Which also meant that it had only been a few days since what had happened between the two of you. Now, feelings weren't his forte, much less talking about them. But that didn't stop him from thinking about kissing you every time you were next to him.

The dog next to him growled and barked. You didn't seem to hear him, but Dean walked over to him.

"Hey buddy!" He leaned over to pet it. "Somebody need a friend? Good boy—aaah!"

Sam and you didn't know what had happened. Just that in that moment everything went black and soon you started hearing that song once again as you woke up in the motel room on a new Tuesday.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

The next day something strange happened, something changed. In all the Tuesdays that Sam and you had experienced nothing but you changed, but that morning you couldn't help but notice how the man eating pancakes with maple syrup for breakfast had changed his syrup to strawberry one. And even weirder than all that, after discovering this, Sam and you woke up once again, this time without Dean having died.

"So you think you're caught in some kind of what, again?" Dean asked as you sat in the diner booth.

Sam and you ignored him as you watched the pancakes man closely.

"Eat your breakfast." You aswered him without even looking. Dean frowned at that, but he still didn't had the opportunity to ask you what was happening, 'cause the moment the man left the diner, Sam and you both went after him.

The mysterious man walked down the street. Sam followed him close behind until he reached him. Then he grabbed and slammed him into the fence, putting the tip of a wooden stake at his throat.

"Hey!" The man exclaimed.

"I know who you are. Or should I say, what."

"Oh my god, please don't kill me." He begged.

"Uh, Sam?" Dean walked after the two of you, trying to get your attention.

"It took me a hell of a long time but I got it."

You frowned at Sam's words. It was as if he knew the man, even seemed to know how to kill him, yet he hadn't mentioned anything to you.

"What?" The man looked at Sam with confusion.

"It's your MO that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts—your kind loves that, don't they?" Sam continued.

"Yeah, sure, okay." The man nodded, looking down nervously at the stake. "Just put the stake down!"

"Sam, maybe you should—" You tried to get closer to him.

"No! There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops—in fact you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a Trickster."

"Mister, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia, I got two kids, for crying out loud I sell ad space—"

"Don't lie to me! I know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!"

Suddenly the man started to transform into what Sam and Dean recognized as the real Trickster.

"Actually, bucko, you didn't." He said with a grin.

"I'm sorry, could someone explain to me what is going on?" You asked, gaining his attention. "Who are you? And why are you doing this to us?"

"He's a Trickster." Dean answered next to you.

"I'm doing it to him, sweetheart, not you." The Trickster explained, pointing to Sam. "You're just collateral damage." You looked at him with disbelief as he turned his gaze back to the young Winchester. "You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time."

"And Hasselback, what about him?" Dean asked about the missing guy.

"That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one." He laughed. "Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town."

"So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?" You took a step toward him.

"One, yes. It is fun. And two? This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on Sam." He answered. "Watching your brother die, every day? Forever?"

"You son of a bitch." Sam growled.

"How long will it take you to realize? You can't save your brother. No matter what. You too, sweetheart." The Trickster looked back at you. "Sam is stubborn, but you... You actually believe you can save him. You'd even give your soul for him, wouldn't you? And the wheel would keep on turning. Deal after deal."

"She won't make any deals." Dean said.

"But not because she hadn't thought of it." The Trickster assured him. His glare fixed on you made you shudder. It was as if he could read all your thoughts, even the darkest ones. "We may not have met before, sweetheart, but I know you."

"Oh yeah?" You raised your eyebrows, grabbing the stake in Sam's hand and pushing him aside. Standing in front of the Trickster, you pulled the stake closer to his neck. "How about I kill you and this all ends now?"

"Oh-oh, hey, whoa! Okay. Look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear."

"You're lying." Sam said.

"If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner." He looked back at him.

"Nah, I think I'd rather kill you." You declared.

"Sorry, kiddo. Can't have that." He smiled before snapping his fingers.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Promise me I'll be back in time Gotta get back in time

God, you loved that song. Back to the Future was one of your favorite movies. In a way you also hated it because it was Carter's favorite movie and that brought back painful memories, but that morning it became your favorite song. That Asia wasn't playing on the radio meant that something had changed and maybe the Trickster hadn't lied to you when he said he would get you out of the loop.

"What, you gonna sleep all day?" Dean asked as he stood by the bathroom sink brushing his teeth.

Sam sat on his bed, his eyes wide open as he watched his brother. He had lived six months without Dean and you. You had both died in front of his eyes and the day hadn't restarted like the others. He had spent six months looking for the Trickster so he could bring him back to this very moment.

"I know, no Asia. This station sucks."

Sam shook his head and looked at the clock radio on the bedside table.

"It's Wednesday."

"Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday." You smiled emerging from the bathroom and standing next to Dean.

Without wasting a second, Sam threw off the covers and walked towards you. Dean and you shared a confused look when Sam pulled you two into a hug.

"Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?" Dean smiled.

"Enough." He admitted, pulling back to look at you.

"She had the same reaction as you." Dean admitted, pointing to you. "She threw herself at me like..."

"I don't think he needs to know that." You cut him off.

"I don't need to know that." Sam confirmed with a nervous smile. "What, uh, what do you remember?"

"I remember you two were pretty whacked out of it yesterday. I remember getting up with the Trickster. That's about it." He shrugged.

"Great. Okay. Let's go." Dean frowned as he watched Sam gather up his things.

"No breakfast?"

"No breakfast." Sam confirmed.

"All right, I'll pack the car."

"I'll go with you." You smiled at Dean, ready to follow him.

"Wait!" Sam exclaimed. "You're two not going anywhere alone."

"It's the parking lot, Sam." You looked at him with confusion.

"Just—just trust me."

Seeing the desperate look in his eyes, you nodded. Surely you hadn't had the same experiences. For one you didn't remember Dean dying in the motel parking lot but Sam's reaction was that he had.

"Okay, but you have to get dressed."

"Yeah. Wait here." He asked them, walking into the bathroom with his clothes.

"He really is a lot weirder than you." Dean commented once the door closed behind his brother.

You murmured in agreement as you looked up at him. You still hadn't taken the time to take in that finally that nightmare was over and that Dean was no longer going to die today. You heart and body still ached from losing him so many times.

Now you felt the urge to touch him and never be separated from him again. Maybe the Trickster was right to think you would do anything to save him, even a deal.

"Hey, you don't look so good." Dean said as Sam left the bathroom. "Something else happen?"

"I just had a really weird dream." Sam answered without giving more explanations.

"Clowns or midgets?" Dean asked with a grin.

Keep Reading: Chapter Eleven

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @lmhf1 @mochminnie @helo1281917 @barnes70stark @slyregg

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[steddieas-shegoes]

won't ever learn

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'domestic fluff' rating: T wc: 478 no cw tags: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, Steddie dads

😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

"She's finally asleep," Eddie sighed, collapsing against the counter and closing his eyes.

"She put up quite a fight tonight," Steve said over his shoulder as he washed the last of the dishes from dinner.

"She's stubborn. Don't know where she gets it."

Steve dropped the dish in the sink and turned to Eddie with a raised brow.

"You don't? Are you sure?"

Eddie lifted his head and rolled his eyes at Steve.

"Okay, I know where she gets it. I'm just not sure how she has so much of it at eight months old."

Steve turned back to the sink, a comfortable silence falling over them.

Just as he drained the sink, warm arms wrapped around his waist from behind and Eddie's nose buried itself in his neck.

"Hey, baby," Steve whispered, placing his hands over Eddie's on his front.

"You look so hot like this," Eddie mumbled against his skin.

"Like what? Tired? Wet shirt from doing the dishes?"

"Like you're happy, like you're mine."

Steve's breath caught in his throat.

"I am happy."

"And mine," Eddie growled out, squeezing his arms.

"And yours," Steve laughed. "You gonna let me go get cleaned up for bed?"

"Only if I can come with you."

Steve turned in Eddie's arms, wrapping his own arms around Eddie's waist.

"Will you behave?" Steve raised his brows at him.

Both of them knew the answer to that. Eddie never behaved when he joined Steve in the shower or bath.

But Steve never really wanted him to behave, especially not when they managed to get Hailey down for bed.

"I can try," Eddie smirked down at him, resting his forehead against him and swaying their hips back and forth slowly.

Steve pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Did you put the laundry away yet?" Steve asked, already knowing the answer.

"I put some of the laundry away?" Eddie leaned in for another kiss, but Steve booped him on the nose instead.

"When you put all of the laundry away, you can join me," Steve winked and pulled away from his arms, throwing the towel he was still holding in one hand on the counter behind him.

"But there's so many shirts. And her little dresses! Why do we have so many little dresses?" Eddie whined, barely holding back an actual temper tantrum.

"If I remember correctly, you and Wayne insisted that she have dresses in every color so that she can have choices."

"Babies can't even have choices!"

"That's what I said. But neither of you listened and now you have to miss out on my shower," Steve shrugged as he walked away.

"I'm upset about this!" Eddie yelled after him.

"You'll learn a lesson!" Steve yelled back.

Eddie sighed and collapsed against the counter again.

He'd probably never learn his lesson, especially not if Steve let him sneak into the shower.