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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year ago

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Mer!Azriel x human!reader: The Dregs of Tragedy

A/N: Something about writing Az as a creature other than Illyrian just makes him end up being so cold and cruel and I have literally no idea where that comes from?

Warnings: Bitta’ blod, Az saves reader in a way, you have an awful husband in this

Word Count: 4,970

-Part 2-

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“If your husband hears you talking like that, he’ll string you up with the rest of them.”

You flinch at the imagery, but stay firm—were you even a fisherman’s wife without nerves of steel and a stomach made of iron? “I don’t care what you say. It’s barbaric either way.” Joanne shakes her head, hair pulled back from her face as the carving knife splits the fish’s head from its body. “It’s barbaric what they do to us, sweet lass. A sailor’s death will never be kind, but to be dragged below the waters by those clammy hands is not a fate I would wish on many.”

Quirk a brow, lips tugging up at the edges. “Would Hildebald be among those few many?” You ask, making the fishmonger’s wife shoot you a sharp glare.

“Do not ask me to speak poorly of him. The gods listen between breaths.”

“The gods lay back while we are beaten and bloody,” you say, carefully lowering your voice. “I fear them as much as you do, but I will not succumb to terror. Virtues protect me, I carry honour close and pray to valour for my husband’s safe return, but that does not mean I would be unhappy should he be snatched from my side.”

Joanne runs her eyes over you appraisingly, face carved deep with age lines, hair wispy and grey. “Listen closely, lass,” she instructs, “we have little power in what happens to us, don’t squander the hand you’ve been dealt, for many others would gladly take your place. Your husband works hard at sea, and has been parted from his gold to pay for you—and we all know your father put an unreasonable dowry on your head.” Her misty sea-foam eyes flicker about, on constant edge should the wrong ears catch the conversation. “Just be grateful for what you have, lass. Look to the skies and you’ll go falling over your own feet,” she hisses, a clear end to the conversation.

You open your mouth to speak back—just because he’s paid for you doesn’t mean he can bruise you bloody—but her watery blue eyes skip over your shoulder, just as a hard, heavy palm settles atop the skin, pulling you in close to a tall, strong body, trained and battered from the seas. “Fish for supper?” He asks jovially—it must have been a good sail. Turn into him, like a creature seeking protection from a vastly superior beast, tilting your head to peer up at your husband. “I got a fresh loaf from the bakers so I was thinking of a soup,” you say, pushing up onto your tiptoes to deliver a chaste kiss to his rough skin, coarse hairs scratching your cheek. “They even added in a fresh lemon to go with it all.”

Light, sharp blue eyes cut to you, something passing behind them that has your stomach sinking. “Of course they did,” he mutters, “it’s in their nature to covet another man’s catch.” He shakes his head, arm tightening around your ribcage almost painfully. “Joanne, you can accompany my wife to the bakers from here onwards,” he drawls out the order like he’s stood behind his ship’s wheel. He turns back to you, fingers stroking along the underside of your breast, eyes glinting. “A hag ought to even out the balance of your beauty,” he murmurs, and you attempt not to cringe as his hot, fishy breath fans across your face.

Instead you dip your head in a demure show of embarrassment, ducking away from the smell. “You find me beautiful because you spend your days at sea with only fish to admire,” you dodge the compliment like you’re expected to, the picture of humble grace. “I assure you, I am nothing much at all.” That seems to please him, squeezing you a little too tightly. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the town,” he says, greasy hand stroking your side. “That is why you are mine. I would not have picked you out if there was a better catch.”

You paste a shy smile onto your lips, tucking away a stray hair over your ear, gripping the wicker basket tighter.

The night will be unpleasant but blessedly short.

————

The surf is calmer today, fog rolling across the grey-blue landscape.

You shouldn’t be down at the cove so early in the morning, but you hadn’t wanted to sleep beside him for a moment longer. Desiccated, scratchy skin pressing to your back, a meaty arm pressed around your waist. So you’d come down to the alcove to clear your head, allowing the crips, salty air to clear your mind before the day ahead. Though sailors will soon be passing by, so you can’t afford to wait too long.

Release a heavy breath, staring out at the deep blue of the ocean, long since desensitised to the scent of brine and seaweed that makes inlanders cringe. The waves are slight, appearing almost still as you survey the view. Had it not been for the steady babble and crush of water, you might have believed the world to be frozen.

Your mind drifts to tales of the mer, stories told to every child to encourage fear and awe into their hearts. Of their cold and clammy hands, capable of pulling fully grown sailors from the docks should they stand too close to the edge. Of their damp, bluish skin, like an eel’s on their chest and arms, but scaled and sharp on their long, thrashing tails. Of their razor-sharp teeth, used to shred and tear at their prey before finally doing away with the catch.

But more than any other feature, folk melodies revolve around their deadly song. Said to be sung so sweetly it could lure any sailor to wish for his end to be at their cold, wet hands. To be dragged below the water’s still surface into their dark and murky layer, fed enough air to be kept alive and aware but never enough to resist as the flesh is torn from their bones.

You move forward, walking along the rickety platform, wanting to look down into the water at the end of the pier, despite the danger you’ve been warned about. The water is still high, but has already begun draining away, the tides lowering. You hum absently as you approach, an old tune that’s often strummed around celebratory bonfires, logs crackling and embers burning bright against the wet blues and greys of the sea-town.

Something catches your eye, ripples coming out from beneath the pier you’re stood on.

Brows furrow, and you walk forward quietly. Maybe a sea creature is hiding beneath the platform. A smile tugs at your lips at the idea—you’d like to see more of the animals when they’re alive instead of with their head severed into a slimy, bloody basket.

You lower to your knees as you come to the edge, muffling your steps so as not to scare it away, if there really is something there.

Peer over the ledge, gaze going to one of the two beams supporting the platform.

Eyes latch with coal black, ringlets of damp, silky hair curling over blue-tinted skin.

Lips part in a scream as you jerk back from the edge, scrambling away before it’s spindly hands come groping for your legs. Heart pounding, you thumb free the small dagger from a dress pocket, gripping it between trembling hands as you frenetically eye the waters below. Waiting for it to attack one side of the pier…to try and drag you under so it can feed on your flesh.

Breath clouds, tendrils curling from your lips as you tremble, replaying the depth of blackness in your mind, the deathly tint of its skin, the unnatural beauty of the lethal creature.

Nothing.

Utter silence.

Shakily, you get to your feet. Had you imagined it? There’s no way.

Heart pounding, you again make your way to the ledge, prepared to toss yourself back should its hands suddenly rise from the water. Swallow, gripping the dagger tight as you shift closer, enough to see a head of dark, slightly curled hair. No doubt the drying sea salt bringing out the waves.

Ease a shuddering breath as you again meet its eyes—charcoal black and utterly depthless. Designed to see in the deepest parts of the mighty ocean. That’s when you notice the tinge in the waters surrounding— him. It’s a male face. Dark lashes, smooth skin, cropped hair.

Eyes dart back to the sea, bleeding red around him.

You note the fishing wire that’s gotten him tangled to one of the beams upholding the platform.

He’s been caught.

Lips part in relief—he can’t hurt you. And yet— “You’re not singing…” you murmur to yourself, eyeing the soft-looking mouth of the creature.

Features coil, twisting themselves into something frighteningly fitting as lips pull back from teeth—dozens of tiny, shredding teeth, set in two neat rows with noticeably protruding incisors. You flinch back on instinct, but remaster your fear, reminding yourself he can’t move. Swallowing, you thank the gods for your iron stomach as you return to the edge. Dagger still gripped tight.

The wire has wrapped itself around his torso from what you can see—probably having gotten tangled first with the creature’s tail, then only constricted tighter as he tried to escape. Much like seaweed.

Brow tightens as the waves continue washing at the shore—the ocean’s draining. What will happen to him, if he doesn’t break free? His lips look dry now you’re peering closer, lines running beneath the stunning black of his vicious eyes. They can survive without being submerged in water for days, but the wire… How long has he been here for?

His mouth opens, and you freeze, tales of their deadly song returning, but instead of the painful melody you were expecting, what comes out is a rasping screech. Garbled and furious—a wet hissing noise, as if he’s seething his warnings.

There’s wire against his neck. Already slicing deep against the powerful column of his throat, stopping much of the noise escaping. You stare down at the creature, tangled and caught. A mighty beast that’s been stripped of any way to protect itself. You wonder if it fears or loathes the helplessness. Perhaps a little of both.

You peer into its eyes, the vicious fury contained within, like he’s already promising to repay the pain you’ll inflict on him tenfold.

Your throat rolls as you stare at him. He’ll die if you leave him—it’s a miracle of some kind he’s managed to remain undetected for so long, though you suppose not many people come down here. But what if someone else finds him?

A queasy feeling tightens around your throat as you imagine the tide sweeping out, gravity pulling the weight of his body down into those slicing wires, forcing him to rest in the tangle until the water returns to yield him to near weightlessness. But what if one of the sailors finds him?

You know what they’ll do. What they already do to the mer they catch. How they’re mutilated, then strung up in the air for the salty winds to whip at, for birds to peck at, slathered in fish blood and other small carcasses to draw creatures in. Sometimes fires are lit beneath their long, powerful tails. Slowly cooking them alive.

Hadn’t you been protesting against the brutality just the other day?

The mer struggles again, water rippling as he writhes, so certain he can break the man-made wire holding him. So desperate to do so.

You look around once…twice. Check no sailors have yet begun to pass over the paths that lead beside the shore. Slowly lower to your knees, gripping the dagger. Black eyes pick out the steel, and he thrashes more, hissing violently as his features are again carved into that picture of grizzly vehemence. Exactly how the stories have told them to be.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you say clearly, slowly. If he’s smart enough to capture and kill fully grown sailors, he should have something to pick up on tone. Some kind of sense that will tell him it’s better to let you near than to go through with the fate he’s seemingly been dealt.

He hisses again, still baring those teeth at you, but he’s no longer struggling. No longer bringing the wire deeper into his body. It’s a good start. You just need to make sure he doesn’t grab you once cut loose. What a foolish way to go.

You breathe deeply as you move closer, reaching forward.

His muscles tense, tension tightening his shoulders as the blade nears him—it would be easy for your hand to drag the steel across his throat, but the very idea makes you uncomfortable. Watching murder happen and doing it yourself are still very different. You don’t think you could quite stomach that.

“I need you to keep still,” you say gently, clearly. If he makes a sudden movement with the blade so close… You slide it beneath the wire, placing the sharp edge to the restraints, pulling in attempts to get it to break. He hisses suddenly, and you realise it’ll be cutting into his throat so you change tactics, gently sawing until it snaps free.

The mer coughs, wet gasps being hauled down into no-doubt powerful lungs, spluttering as his gills spasm violently.

You can only allow him a little time before setting to work on the next one, further below the water, binding his shoulders tight to the post. Settle closer to the platform, aware of how his eyes silently track every angle of your movements. Whether to make sure you don’t attack, or to plan his own, you don’t contemplate. Just reach deeper, aiming for the next wire. Repeat the gentle sawing motions until that too snaps off.

A gush of relief washes over you as his upper body moves free from the bloody mess, but then he hisses and jerks back, pressing to the beam. His noise sounds strained instead of violent. A noise the product of lacerating pain. There’s most likely more wire tangling his tail, but— you can’t reach that.

The unearthly face tilts, dark eyes boring into you with urgency and— Great Gods. Hunger.

“What are you doing down here?”

You flinch at the rumble of your husband’s voice and the creature goes preternaturally still. As if he also recognises the sound. You could swear his skin leeches of the bluish tint, becoming colder and more translucent. The dagger drops from your hands, bouncing loudly on the wood of the pier. Settles at the edge, and you jerk away, turning to face the towering man approaching you.

Panic grips you as you spy a broad, pale blue hand rising silently from the water. Reaching for the blade.

You shift, angling your body to block him from your husband.

“I wanted to see if I could see the sea bed,” you explain hurriedly, managing what you hope is an appropriately embarrassed smile. “Sadly the tide’s in, so I think it’s too deep. Do you know when it’ll be out again?” You ask, trying to distract from the position he’d found you in. His brow narrows, heavy boots clunking over the rickety pier. “You shouldn’t be so near to the waters,” he mutters, moving forward and you hastily get to your feet, the dagger gone from the platform.

Bruising, meaty hands roughly grip your upper arms, forcefully turning you to face him. The smell of grease and hot fish washes over you and you fight your cringe. “Yesterday it was the bakers, today it’s the seas,” he mutters, “it’s not right for you to be this close to—” Follow the direction of his gaze, down to the edge of the pier.

He pushes you to the side, allowing him to galumph past, staring down to the post the mer had been tied to.

Watch his bulky silhouette as hands pull into flesh-beating fists, your bones already aching. “Is everything okay?” You ask softly, shaking your head to yourself. “I’m sorry for taking so long to make breakfast—I got sidetracked on my usual pathway. Let’s return home.”

He doesn’t move, the world silent save for the steady wash of waves at the shore. Your husband turns then, brows pulled into a hateful bunch atop sea-roughened skin. “Why were you peering into the waters?” His voice is low and blunt, eyes sharpening to glacial blue, regarding you with a hint of suspicion. You smile, “I told you, I was looking to see the bottom but the tide’s not yet out.”

Heart is pounding—could he have already known the mer was there? The bluish skin had almost drained, as if paling with fury.

Then he’s walking to you with intent, hands brutally gripping your upper arms, tight enough the bones trembling beneath his sailor’s grip. “Why were you peering into—”

Something gleams over his shoulder, grazing the muscle of his bicep as your dagger flies past, blood spitting onto the deck as the blade lodges into the wood. Cold blue eyes freeze, snapping from the weapon dug into the pier back to you. “That’s yours,” he accuses, lowly. “You set it free, didn’t you?”

“I don’t—”

His hand smacks across your cheek before you have time to prepare, the corner of your mouth stinging as something hot trickles down your chin. Lips part, raising your fingers to the drip-drop of blood.

“You set the damned thing free,” he rages, practically snarling with fury. Before you can do anything against it, he’s turning, gripping you so tight you’re afraid your arm will splinter. “Björn! Bertram!” He bellows, calling to the sailors that are no doubt beginning their morning routines. He’s muttering to himself, about capturing it again before it can get too far out to sea, dragging you along behind him.

You stumble, tripping up as you go, almost bumping into him as you’re roughly pulled back along the pier. He whirls on you then, backhanding you hard enough you almost careen backward. But his meaty hand is encompassing your throat, strangling tight as he pulls you close enough for his greasy, fishy beard to coarsely scratch your skin. “Stupid, foolish hag,” he snarls out, “you’ll be strung you and up cooked alive for that.”

Your stomach churns as you struggle, nails clawing at his knuckles, scratching deep enough to draw blood, more of it drip-dropping onto the rickety pier. You gasp for breath, rasping and clawing at his hand until he snarls, shoving you back. Tripping over your skirts, the back of your head smacks against the wood hard enough to have your vision blurring, white spots dancing through your view. Billowing grey clouds wash overhead, looking about to rain down.

Weakly, you push up from the damp platform, in time to see your husband pluck the dagger from the ground—what had tripped you up. Eyes flash with fury, flipping the hilt menacingly as he advances, drawing out the fear. You whimper, scrambling back until your hand slips over the edge, almost sending you tumbling into the murky depths. “I should have known,” he spits out, “there were whispers about your thoughts. I should have paid them more mind.” The dagger glints in his hand, so quickly turned to your own throat.

“I’ll take my time with you,” he mutters, “take the fingers that cut the fish free.” Flips the blade in his hand as he towers over you. Muscles coil taut, unable to move, unable to fight as the steel glitters beneath the overcast light. He moves to grab you—to take your fingers, to cut you up.

A deafening screech sounds, rasping and raw, then a pale blue shape leaps from the water. Jaws are unlocked to a monstrous angle, neat rows of sharp, flesh-shredding teeth bared as that giant tail thrashes with the force to propel him clean from the water. The muscled weight of the mer crashes into your husband, knocking him from his feet as he’s stolen beneath the water’s surface faster than you can blink.

The sea ripples in his wake, then calms to nothing, continuing to lap at the shore, hiding all traces of the deadly attack.

“Mer!” A bellowing voice roars, and your eyes are dragged to the beginning of the pier, two hulking sailors—Björn and Bertram—stood among the heavy, rolling fogs that have seemingly thickened out of nowhere. Their weighty boots thud on the deck as they begin storming forward, weapons gripped tight in case of another unseen attack.

Your heart beats in your mouth, fear and panic sweeping you under as you freeze with terror. You shift to move back, but have forgotten you’re already at the edge, hand slipping back over the ledge of the pier.

Eyes go wide, unable to scream as powerful, cold-blooded hands wrap beneath your arms, hooking over your shoulders and you’re dragged down beneath the sea’s surface. Water swallowing any trace of struggle as it seals overhead.

You thrash and writhe, hands shoving out as you try to free yourself from the iron grip of the mer that’s dragging you down to his sea bed. He turns you around, then cold, soft lips are settling over your own, breathing fresh air into your lungs. Tasting slightly coppery. You don’t question how it’s possible—they’re creatures of magic—just greedily gulp the extra seconds of life down as you feel his powerful body ripple with motion, muscle working as the large tail propels you deeper into the ocean, stolen away from the sea-town you’d grown up in.

Fear seeps into your blood as images of his tiny, shredding teeth flash through your head, the charcoal of his large, onyx eyes.

You should never have risked freeing him. He’s as cruel as the songs warn.

————

Spluttering as you break the surface of the underwater cave, your eyes ache from being squeezed shut for gods know how long.

Gulp down air to fuel your panic driven heartbeat, briny salt water stinging as tears drip down your cheeks. You quickly blink them away, unable to dry your eyes thanks to the cold water having soaked your clothes, down to the bone. His tail moves in strong motions, keeping the both of you afloat, yet he hasn’t bitten down. Mouth remains shut, as if waiting for you to ready.

Peel open your gaze, instantly latching onto his dark eyes, glittering black as he watches you silently. The oddly shaped ears either side his head twitch, looking like the webbed feet of some of the marine birds you’ve seen. Birds that have feasted upon mer flesh when it’s been strung up to be picked at.

As soon as you can manage, you’re trying to writhe away from the creature, but the stories haven’t done their strength justice. It’s like being held by stone, muscle as unforgiving as the cold, jagged rocks the surf crashes upon. Dread sets in, spiralling your mind as you thrash against his grip, desperate to spare yourself from the horrible fate of his gently prying teeth.

“Let go of me,” you plead, trying to squirm out of his hold, eyeing the hewn rock that makes up the underwater cave, seemingly being kept in an air bubble. Gaze returns to gleaming black in time to see as a transparent film blinks across his eyes, making you startle, yipping as you flinch away in horror. Teeth catch on the edge of your mouth with the recoil, reopening the small wound, courtesy of your husband, vision again blurring with the sting.

You struggle as he starts moving, but he’s pushing you toward the ledge of the rocky cave, not dragging you below—deeper into his layer. Breathing stutters as your back presses into the jagged rock, his blue-tinted hands spanning your hips, turning you around and pushing up from the cold sea. You scramble away so quickly you graze your knee on the sharp rock, splitting skin as blood begins seeping into your skirts.

Wince at the pain, but push as far back as you can, finding the stone now to be surprisingly smooth, as if carved away. Breathe heavily, shivering against the icy temperature of the submarine cave, hugging your limbs close by as the mer watches silently. Tears helplessly drip down your cheeks, teeth chattering as you try to put a stop to your crying. You’re a fisherman’s wife, for goodness sake. Were a fisherman’s wife?

Throat rolls as you push back into the smooth wall of the cave. “What did you do with my…with Alaric?” You manage through trembling jaws, lungs spasming with the cold.

The question appears to aggravate the mer, lip curling at the name alone. “He’s alive,” the male rasps, throat straining to create the syllables of speech. You stifle your surprise—yes, you’d known they could sing, but you’d assumed it was in some ancient tongue, fitting for their ancient species. Swallow down your fear, curling tighter in on yourself. “Why have you brought me here?” You manage, voice thick and scared even to your own ears.

He swims closer, resting powerfully muscled arms upon the rocky ledge, tail swaying idly behind him in the lagoon. It’s then you truly take in the cave he’s brought you to, kept alight by luminescent greens and blues, crystals lining the ceiling, the sea lighting up with every small movement, as if mixed with melted moon wax. Tendrils of breath curl before you in misty swirls, teeth chattering more as shivers wrack your body, not all of them solely from the frigid air.

“You saved my life,” he rasps, jaw resting atop his forearms as he watches you.

“So you trap me in a cave?” You manage, trying to fight off the feeling of your fingertips beginning to frost over. He merely blinks at your question, that translucent film sliding back and forth just beneath his lids. “So I saved yours,” he correctly neutrally, a hint of arrogance in his dark eyes.

Brows knot together in confusion as you stare at the male. “You—… You’ve trapped me.”

“Your husband would have killed you,” he rasps, cold eyes sharpening with what you can only assume is hatred. “I saved you.” You shake your head, unaware of your lower body. “You took him because you were hungry. It served your own purposes.”

Incisors glitter beneath the icy blues of the cave, gleaming as his lip curls. Extends his arm, cold-blooded fingers stretching out as if to grab you. “Shall I return you?”” You huddle close to the wall, curling away from his deathly touch. “I’ll freeze to death if you take me through those waters again,” you hedge. “Besides, you might change your mind along the way, and—” You cut yourself off, noticing the red of his tongue. Swallow, hoping it’s not left-over blood.

His ears flutter, noting your gaze, lips pulling back as he swipes the flesh-roughing muscle over gleaming teeth. “And?” He asks, quietly taunting as the edge of his mouth quirks. As if daring you to voice the dreadful tales of his kind. Your lips purse, instead turning your attention to trying to contain your warmth. The mer shifts, as if about to slide back into the water.

“Wait!” You call out, having him pause, glittering onyx eyes turning once again to your figure. “Where are you going?” You ask, unable to entirely keep the fear from your voice. “Away,” he answers in that still raspy, raw voice of his. “I’ll be back,” he adds with a croon, tail swishing beneath him, arms running through the water as if revelling in being reunited on friendly terms. Panic sets in—if he leaves, he might never return. Might very well forget about you entirely. Leaving you to freeze in a subterranean sea cave, rotting away with the grime and stale water, all alone.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask frantically, not wanting to be around him, but not wanting him to leave either. You don’t want to die here.

Ears twitch again, watching you silently, observing like he’s waiting for a sign to show. He returns to the ledge of rock leading down into the freezing waters, again settling himself atop the hewn stone. “You know what he does to us. What you all do to us,” he rasps, close enough for you to pick out the still-healing slices on his throat. “You know how you hate us, and you know how they hate anything that does not hate with them. You knew how they’d hate you too. So why meddle?”

Skin prickles at the intense look he’s giving you, feeling as though judgement is being passed.

“I didn’t want your death on my conscience,” you mange, lips long numb from the biting temperature. He blinks slowly, the only shift in expression he shows, the rest of his features blank as a still day at sea.

“Don’t try to escape. You’ll drown yourself,” he rasps bluntly, pushing away from the ledge, returning to deeper waters. “Just wait. I’ll return.”

The mer swims to the middle of the pool, dark eyes gleaming. “Eventually.”

Then he’s swallowed in a flash of silver, darting away to one of the submerged tunnel openings, navigating his way out to open ocean. Stomach tenses, listening to the laboured heave of your breaths and the quiet hush of waves. Curl tighter into yourself, praying he returns before the warmth entirely leaves you, already unable to feel your legs or hands.

Teeth chatter in the quiet of the cave, leaving you to wonder how far below land you are.

How deeply he’s already buried you.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x yn #mermaid au #mer!azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fic

331 notes · View notes

momentomori24 · 10 months ago

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I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.

Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.

Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.

And to people like this:

''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?

Same thing goes for people like this:

Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?

And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.

This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.

To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.

To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #this post took me ages to finish and really grinds my gears #i would not survive on that hellscape with people like this holy shit #really hope this situation turns out for the best #i wrote this while i was frustrated and sleep deprived so apologies for unnoticed grammar i'll correct it later #i'll be keeping my eyes peeled for any updates on this situation this is actually getting scary

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whiskeyghoul · 1 year ago

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Green green dress || [Spencer Reid x F!Reader] Pt.1

A/N: watched tick tick boom again and this song has been stuck on repeat in my mind so please enjoy the ramblings of a woman possessed.

Read pt.2 here

Tags: Established relationship, female reader, no y/n, fluff, mentions of smut? more like alluding to smut, BAU reader, tick tick boom reference. MDNI.

Wordcount: 1.4K

Your hands smoothed over the non existent wrinkles of your dress. Dark, emerald green and velvet. It hugged every curve of your body just right, complimenting your natural shape so well. Emily, JJ, and Penelope had convinced you to buy it on one of the few girls days you had together. One where dress shopping was necessary for your evening out in a bar. It had been a risky pick, different from your usual attire and the plunging neckline was something you hadn’t dared to wear before. It was just a bit too out there to be worn casually, so it had hung in your closet, waiting for the perfect opportunity to wear it.

What better opportunity than an end of year party at the Rossi house hold? Where the Christmas lights would still be up, creating the perfect ambiance with the soft music that carried throughout the house. The decadent food, expensive wine, and the perfect atmosphere. With Spencer as your date you were more than excited for the evening.

You picked up the dark plum lipstick that sat on the vanity with your other makeup, applying a quick swipe to your lips and pressing them together. “Are you almost ready?” Spencer called from down the hall. You could hear his footsteps move closer to your shared bedroom in his apartment. He’d given you the space to get ready while he sat and read one of his many books. “Almost, love.” You called back, placing the lipstick back down and fussing with your hair a bit. Trying to get it to fall just right. Perfectly effortless wasn’t as effortless as you had hoped. The door creaked open, Spencer walking in and stopping in his tracks in the door opening.

You turned your head, looking at Spencer who stood frozen in place, hands stilled as he had been fixing his tie. His eyes focussed on you, almost entranced as he took you in. “Spence?” You asked, wondering if you had perhaps gone too out there. Like you had overdressed for some reason. You didn’t think you had. Now, a bit unsure of yourself, you got out of your chair, walking a bit closer. “Wow…” Spencer breathed out. Relief washed over you. “You had me worried for a second.” You admitted, a nervous smile playing on your lips. “Worried? You look stunning. I think you literally took my breath away just now.” Spencer rambled as he finally found his voice again. Eyes lingering on your body, taking you in as you move closer to him. His hands reach out, pulling you towards him by the waist. “I thought I overdressed.” You added, hands landing on his chest and smoothing over his suit jacket until you laced your fingers behind his neck. The hairs in his nape brushing against your skin.

Spencer seemed to think for a moment, “Maybe you did, I think we should just stay home. It would be embarrassing to outshine everyone.” He stated, pulling your body against his. Seemingly completely enthralled by your look. A small laugh escaped you. The underlying motive to his words was clear enough. He’d rather forgo the party if it meant he could be the one taking off your dress right now. “Oh no, I did not take all that time to get ready to not be seen.” You scolded gently, playfully even. “I see you.” Spencer quickly retorted. He leaned in, quickly capturing your lips with his own to stifle any protest you would throw at him. You melted into the kiss, tightening your hands to hold Spencer closer. His hands tightened in the fabric of your dress, causing it to rise slightly exposing more of your stockings.

You pulled away slightly from the kiss, hands moving down to cover Spencer’s. “We’re going to be late.” You whispered, lips ghosting over his lips. He breathed out through his nose, his grip loosening on your dress. “Let's be late for once.” He whispered. His eyes were filled with lust as he looked at you. You trailed your right hand up his arm, to finally reach his face, gently swiping your thumb over his lips to remove the lipstick you had left behind. His lips parted slightly, almost involuntarily before he kissed the pad of your thumb. His eyes are big, looking at you pleadingly. “Please?” he said. It was hard to say no to him, especially when he sounded so sweet. You’d give him anything he wanted if you could.

“I’ll do anything you want when we come home. We can’t miss this one, everyone will be there.” You said, not wanting to give in to his every whim. It was going to be a special evening after all. You didn’t want to miss it. You didn’t want to miss Rossi’s cooking if you were really honest. “Anything?” Spencer raised his brows slightly, you knew there were millions of things running through his head at that moment. “Anything.” You repeated with a grin. He released your dress, seemingly content with your promise of anything he’d desire, just later in the evening.

You quickly leaned up, pecking his lips in a quick kiss. Leaving another dusting of plum lipstick on his lips. “Let’s go, before we’re too late.” you added, turning away from Spencer and leaving the bedroom. His footsteps followed you to the front door, where your heels had been parked and waiting for you. Quickly sliding them on with practiced ease. Spencer held out your coat, ready to slide it on for you like he often does. “I still think we should stay home.” Spencer commented as you moved your arms into the jacket sleeves. He pulled it over your shoulders as you laughed in response to his comment. “We’ll stay home all day tomorrow too. So please, let’s have this dinner.” You said as you took his hand, lacing your fingers together, leading him out the front door and to his car.

Arriving at David’s house went smoothly, you were a bit later than you hoped and saw the multitude of cars already parked in the driveway to the house. Lights lined either way of the walkway up to the house where the deck was lit up with twice as many lights as usual. The smell of pork and greens wafted from the house signaling dinner was being made. You walked up with Spencer, his hand on the small of your back as he guided you to the front door. Before you could even knock the door swung open with David in the opening, welcoming and ushering you inside. “Sorry we’re late.” You apologized, it was only 10 minutes after the agreed upon time but you still felt slightly bad. “Don’t sweat it, I’m sure you had to take some time to get ready. Would you like something to drink?” David immediately offered, guiding you to the living room after you hung your coats away.

Spencer’s hand was back on your waist, holding you closer to him as you walked. It was different. Yes he was often quite touchy with you but this was an unusual amount of affection. The chatter from your colleagues came from the living room, the lights were dimmed to enhance the cozy atmosphere. The two of you entered the room, the warmth inside put a blush on your face. “Finally you’re here!” Penelope exclaimed from her spot next to Derek, getting up and pulling you in for a hug. “You say it like we made you wait an hour.” Spencer chuckled before greeting the others. “It felt like it.” Penelope chided before she finally let you go. “Look at you, in the dress and everything! Gorgeous!" She complimented and took a step back. “You too, Pen. Gorgeous like always.” you smiled as you looked at the quintessential Penelope outfit but dialed up to 11.

David handed you a glass of red wine while informing everyone of how long the wait would be for dinner to be served. Pulled along with Penelope she seated you between her and Emily. Spencer sitting next to Derek, just out of reach from where you’d rather have him. You caught his look at you, the way his eyes flicked down to your legs as you sat down, dress riding up ever so slightly.

For someone surrounded by profilers he really didn’t try to hide what he was thinking about.

End note: I am working on pt.2 and is already over the length of pt.1 and I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. send help.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #Spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #wip #part 1 #mdni #tick tick boom #green green dress

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thrashyraccoon · 11 months ago

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Jealous Guy (Jealous!Eddie Munson x Reader)

___________________________________________

Summary: Another guy starts hanging around you at work and Eddie is concerned about it.

___________________________________________

You and Eddie have been together for a year and have known each other for two years since you moved to Hawkins. You met in high school, but you've already graduated and work at one of the few grocery stores in town, which Eddie is struggling to finish his senior year. Your relationship is still going very well, as it was at the beginning, but now the boy had reasons to be jealous. A nondescript Harry started hanging around your workplace, or more precisely you. A guy five years older with short blonde hair who wears leather almost 24/7. Of course, Eddie had never seen him. He heard that description from you because you told him about Harry, that he was nice and loved metal as much as Eddie. Then the boy thought to himself "it's cool, I won't forbid my partner from talking to customers in the store. Until he met one of your shift colleagues while picking you up from shift." Be careful, young, a certain guy comes up too often during your girlfriend's shifts. " He heard from a middle-aged woman in a work T-shirt, blond, medium curly hair, currently smoking a cigarette during her five-minute break, which usually lasted forever. And that's when fear and jealousy appeared in the boy. If he says she's a woman who ignores everything that's going on around her (including angry customers), so there must be something to it. A week has passed since the previous information and Eddie couldn't be bothered about it. He really hated being jealous of you and didn't want to be with you to argue about this guy. Eddie knew you loved him, but what if you realized he wasn't a good match for you after all and started dating Harry. After all, you were young, you had just finished school, many dreams were still ahead of you. And he? He couldn't even pass school, twice. So, not wanting to start a misunderstanding, he decided to drive over to your workplace after school, when you still had a few hours before your shift started, to meet the employee he talked to last week.

…

Boy got deya vu. Just like that time, a bored blonde was standing in front of the store door, smoking her cigarette. "Hey, can we talk? I have a case." said Eddie, who was glared at by the woman in response. After a second, however, she returned to her previous activity. “It's about the guy who hangs around y/n.”

This time, without even looking at the metalworker, the employee extended her hand towards him, gesturing for him to give her the cash.

"I have 5 dollars on me," he took out a bill, which she took literally in less than a second and put it in her cleavage.

"He often comes for a Marlboro and they reheat the pizza, it's usually when your partner is there. They always talks eachother" She said, taking another puff of the cigarette

"I know that he's coming. Do you know what they're talking about?" The blonde once again made the payment gesture. The boy took out cash and gave the woman "I have $3 more."

"He hangs around and that I've heard him compliment twice, but y/n seems unfazed by it. You don't have to worry about it."

On the one hand, the metalhead breathed a sigh of relief after this statement because he knew that his partner was not going to leave him for someone else, but on the other hand, he lost $8 irretrievably because of this information. However, he didn't feel confident about the fact that his lover was surrounded by a other guy. For peace of mind, he decided to talk to you about it without any secondary conclusions."

"Thanks so much for the information."

"No problem. Now get out of here or you're disrupting my shift, shaggy."

…

A day has passed since the conversation with your supervisor. Eddie was sitting on the bed in his room planning the next d&d campaign for next Friday since we had nothing to do until you got back from your noon shift. Just then, the boy heard the front door open and Uncle Wayne's voice announcing that "Eddie's in his room." The bedroom door opened, but the metal man didn't bother to look who came in because he knew full well it was you.

“Hi Eds,” you said, giving the boy a kiss on his full head of hair. After a while, you placed a few patches on the bed your boyfriend occupied, and the boy immediately looked at them out of curiosity.

"Thank you babe." He said, reaching for the first one on the bank, caressing it between his fingers. "Oh cool, Black Sabbath. Where are you from?"

"I got it from Harry, he said he didn't need it."

After that sentence, a confused Eddie fell silent and threw away the patch. The feeling of jealousy came to the fore again. He had to be sure now.

"Hey, what's going on?" You said, looking worriedly at your boyfriend as you sat on the edge of his bed.

"Honey, will you be honest with me?"

"Always with you, Eds."

"Do…do you like Harry?" In response, he heard quite loud laughter, but not loud enough to wake up the neighbors around him. "Babe, I'm serious!"

You decided to keep a straight face and answer him with complete honesty "Eds, honey, for me he's just a friend with whom I talk when he comes over. In fact, he tries to flirt with me, but to no avail. Anyway, first of all, I told him that I have a boyfriend, and secondly, Harry isn't even my type, he looks like the lead singer of Judas Priest-"

"Good, now I have no chance at all with him!!!" The metal man shouted, cutting you off by dramatically slamming his weight onto the bed.

Watching with amusement, you decided to continue your statement, moving closer to Eddie, "Eds, I prefer guys with Van Halen looks…"

"There's still some Eddie Van Ha-" hanging around! He continued to dramatize until he felt a tap on his shoulder, "Ouh, baby, for what?"

"You're the guy with the Van Halen look, idiot!"

After Eddie analyzed the statement for a moment, the only thing he managed to choke out was a sound of understanding.

"Besides, even if Van Halen came in here, I wouldn't leave you for him, stupid," you said, giggling slightly, then brought your hands closer to Eddie's face and gave him a quick kiss on the lips and hugged him. "I think you and Harry should get to know each other."

"You know, honey, this is actually a good idea." He replied, hugging you closer to him. “It's time to explain that you don't flirt with other people-ouh,” he stopped after you smacked him lightly on the forehead a second time, this time.

"No fighting in the store, Eds!"

"I know, I know," Eddie said, laughing, "Just kidding, sweetheart."

#thrashy post #eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson my beloved

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not-magdi · 1 year ago

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Piercing

Summary: Getting your first piercing with a little mental support from your boyfriend.

Words: 845

Warnings: None, just pure fluff

A/N

I just got my ear pierced yesterday with a few friends and while we were on the train back home we had this idea. Hope you enjoy it <3!

Today was the day you were going to get your first piercing. You thought long about it. Not being the biggest fan of needles, you somewhat always delayed getting one.

But after you complained to Pedri for the millionth time about how nice helix piercings looked, he just booked an appointment to get one, having enough of your whining about it.

So now you were standing before the studio clutching Pedri's hand tight. You were scared, not only of the needle but also of the pain. After Pedri told you that he booked an appointment, you started to research everything about piecings on ears.

What if you thought about it now was not the best idea. Because many people told you that getting a piercing on your upper ear hurts way more than regular ear piercings, so now you were scared of that too.

"Hey, don't worry too much about it. I'm here. I will hold your hand the whole time."

Kissing your hand, he opened the door for you and followed you in. The smell of sanitiser filled your nostrils, not helping your nervousness. Sure, you got your ears pierced as a child, but that was ages ago, and the nice lady gave you a lollipop afterwards.

The studio looked welcoming. White walls with little pink details and comfy-looking couches decorated the room. The warmth of Pedri's hand calmed you down a little bit, but as a woman with a mask came from a separate room, your nerves came back with full force.

"Hola, what can I do for you today?"

Looking nervously at Pedri, he reassured you with a kiss on your hand and answered for you instead.

"Hola, I called yesterday. We have an appointment for a helix piercing at 3:00 p.m.."

Tipping something into her computer, she tells you to sit and wait for a few minutes. Doing as she says, the two of you are now sitting on a pink plush couch, picking which piercing you want to have.

"The pink one looks nice, or the white one. What do you think, Pepi?"

Looking up from his phone, Pedri grabs the little tray and takes a close look at all of them.

"What about the little heart one it's cute. And I really like it … just like you."

Your cheeks grow red at his compliment, but before you can say something, the woman from before comes back and asks you if you choose one.

"Uh yeah, the little heart one, please."

"Perfect, then please follow me to our piercing station."

You let out a shaky breath. And stand up, immediately searching for Pedri's hand. And like he promised, he's behind you, taking your shaking hand into his warm one.

Sitting down in the chair, you looked up at Pedri with a nervous look.

"Hey, I'm right here Amor, no need to be nervous. Here, give me both hands to squeeze."

"Ok, do you want me to count to 3 or just do it?" you were asked.

" Um, please count to 3", you tell her with a slight tremble, lacing your voice.

Disinfecting your ear, she starts to count, and you squeeze your eyes shut. And a moment and some slight pain later, she was done. You open your eyes again, surprised at how fast it was over.

" So, we're done. Please remain seated for a while. Just to make sure you're doing fine. Oh, and I think your boyfriend should sit down with you for a while."

Looking up confused, you are met with your boyfriend's pale face. You chuckle at his shocked expression and make some place for him to sit down next to you.

"You ok, Amor?" you ask him with a smile on your face.

"I just saw someone pocking a literal hole into you. Of course, I'm not ok! Why did I even book this? What's wrong with me?!"

Laughing, you wrap your arm around him, laying your head on his shoulder.

"Hey, look, it looks amazing though."

He turned his head, examining the little heart. That was now decorating your left ear. A little smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling with admiration.

"Yeah, it was worth my poor nerves. Do you realise how brutal that just looked? How are you ok?"

"It didn't feel that painful, but I'm happy you came with me. You're my rock. I think without you, I would have completely freaked out."

"Well, I'm happy I could help. But I'm not doing that a second time, fuck no. I'm waiting outside next time, vale?"

Chuckling, you take his hand and make your way to the front desk to pay. Before you could even take your wallet out, Pedri already held his phone out to pay, earning himself an annoyed look from you, which he shook off with a teasing smile.

After getting a little treatment plan, you left the shop together, hand in hand, walking down the streets of Barcelona.

"You know, Pepi, I think you would look great with an earring."

"Oh fuck off."

#pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez #pedri #pedri x you #pedri x reader #pedri one shot #pedrito #pedro gonzález lópez #pedro gonzáles x reader

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fuxuannie · 2 years ago

Note

HIII I FOLLOWED U RECENTLY AND IM LITERALLY JUST BLOWN AWAY BY UR WORKS I LOVE THEMMN

okay listen listen listen. what are ur thoughts on enemies to lovers w dan heng.

OR OR OR WITH GEPARD (idk how thatll work but the idea is very appealing to me AHUEHDUE)

(also i saw it was ur birthday yesterday!! happy belated birthday 🥳🥳 stay healthy n safe, dont forget to hydrate and eat :D)

- idk can i be 😟 anon (my face 24/7 LMAO)

↳ pairing : (seperate) gepard landau & dan heng x gender neutral reader

↳ synopsis : request ♡

↳ authors note : dan hengs is more or less a joke bc i genuinely couldnt think of much for him im SORRYANSBDNS thank you smmm for the sweet messages they rlly warm my heart

☆☆ ONE BED TROPE ⁉️

When the peace between the Overworld and Underworld was established, you and Gepard both agreed that it didn't mean that suddenly you and him were buddy-buddy now. However, with Seele and Bronya becoming allies, it meant that you and Gepard were more often than not being assigned to work side by side.

And with that arrangment coming along, that's what brought you here. In an abandoned building, sitting on a bed with Gepard kneeling between your legs as he bandaged your bruises. "You know, if anyone sees this the angle looks really-"

"Shut up."

You smirk at his fluster, seeing the slight shade of pink that he tries to hide. In return, he not so nicely pulls on the bandages around you, tightening them in a way that was nearly suffocating. "Ow!-"

You won't deny that Gepard was an insanely pretty man, his soft skin and gentle features complimented his.. annoyingly kind soul for those who needed his assistance. He was loved by many, and you couldn't really blame people. Just cause you both were on opposite sides didn't mean you couldn't acknowledge his determination to protect others.

"Your injuries are fatal. We can move by morning, just rest for now."

You look around the room, mostly to ignore how he takes off his heavy armor to to rest properly. "You know it's.. there's only one relatively comfortable place to sleep in, right? Or in other words.. there's only one bed?"

Gepard nods with a sigh, your eyes finally turning back to him as he tries to lay on the floor and use his arm as a pillow. "Yeah. And you're hurt, so you can have it."

He ignores your pitiful stare, closing his eyes until he hears you clear your throat and opening one of them slightly. "It's.. cold. And there's.. enough room."

"Oh? And won't this look like a suggestive-"

"Shut up!"

You ignore his laughter as he stands up, feeling him ruffle your hair as you look up at him. "Asshole. Just.. sleep, will you?"

"Gladly. If it means I won't have to look at your face anymore."

"You know I'm pretty." "Maybe, but you're infuriating."

"Wait, what?"

☆☆ BITTER EXES WHO HUNTS THE OTHER DOWN

Maybe that description was a little detailed, but wouldn't it be funny if you were DAN HENG's ex and you were so pissed at him you joined the Stellaron Hunters. Blade himself started hating him a little more after hearing you rant about him for the 10th time in a day. (He's more pissed that he made you that way and now has to deal with it.)

So when you caught up to him in Luofu, even if you swore to Blade you wouldn't do anything until his business with Dan Heng was over, you just couldn't resist just having a little bite. Just for your own enjoyment.

"How have you been?" "I've been better, especially since you're holding a knife to my throat and pinning me against a wall."

You scoff at his remark while pushing the blade closer towards his neck, not quite enough to cut but grazing his skin to a point he can feel the cold metal. "Shut up."

"Good to know you're still angry at me."

"Why wouldn't I be? You left me with nothing but a poorly written note that had nothing but 'Goodbye.' on it."

That got a little reaction out of him which was him clearing his throat. "Seems like you haven't forgotten either."

"No it's more.. did you not see the other one I left you?" "There was another??"

You and him exchange awkward glances, you eventually pull the knife away from his neck and take a few steps back.

"If it matters at all, you're still really pretty."

"Seriously, now of all times I-"

You laugh a little, causing the familiar feeling of Dan Heng's heart skipping a beat as he looks off to the side. "..Whatever. Just because we had this.. whatever this was, it doesn't mean you're off the hook. You're still gonna be a dead man, I promise you that much."

Dan Heng watched you leave the shadows, until you were out of sight was when he laughed a little. "It's a little odd I found that stupidly attractive but.." He shrugs to himself, not like anyone will know.

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng hsr x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader

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heartbreakgrill · 1 year ago

Text

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Pt. 5, "Is it cool that I said all that?"

A week passed, just like that. We had flown to Germany at the beginning of the next week, where we’d be for just fourteen days before we’d move onto France.

Oliver and I didn’t have many chances to see one another. We were always on different wavelengths. Him, with rehearsals, vocal rests, writing sessions. Me, with the delicacies of travel. The only times we really saw each other were during breakfast or dinner, two places he’d been making a point to show up to. No one really noticed his newfound presence- no one but me, considering it seemed to previously be a way for him to spite my very existence.

His first appearance happened the very next morning after our conversation on the bus. After he kissed me like he was going off to battle, we rode the elevator up our floor, departed at my door, and just an hour later, he ended up texting me goodnight. That message alone was enough to have my heart beating crazily.

The next morning, I was still feeling that aftershock while sitting at the breakfast table, talking to Ronnie about her brother’s baby. The elevator doors dinged, opening up like the literal gates of heaven. I barely paid any mind because everyone who normally came to breakfast was already seated at our table. But, I did spare a glance and caught sight of his dark figure, slinking towards us. I gave a second look, stumbling over whatever it was I had been saying to Ronnie. I covered up my stutter by clearing my throat, but she didn’t really notice, nor did she seem to care. Oliver sat at the end of the table, greeting everyone with his same simple nod. My heart was going again.

I tried not to stare, tried not to even look at him for fear of melting on the spot, even when I felt his eyes burning into my face. I was blushing, bright red. My knee shook, nervously, under the table as I brushed my hair from my cheeks, behind my ears. I caught his eye from the corner of my own and he smiled, ever so slightly.

I was done for, I knew it.

It became a delight to see him at these meals, even if we never got the chance to speak to each other; even if, afterwards, he’d shoot back upstairs to his room. That was always my favorite part, when he disappeared from the table because, shortly after, he’d text me.

Something like:

Oliver: your hair looked pretty today.

Daisy: you looked alright 🤷

Oliver: wooooooow

I compliment you and this is how you treat me

Daisy: oh im so super sorry

Oliver, you are so handsome and gorgeous and amazing and awesome

Better?

Oliver: sure, sure

That’s where most of our conversation took place, over text, especially that first week that whatever this was began to take place.

He’d text me good morning and good night, nearly every single day. He’d ask how my day was, ask me what sort of plans I had. I kept waiting for this question to evolve into another one, something like, “Wanna hang out later?” I’d settle for a damn booty call, if that’s what he wanted. I tried not to get frustrated when that first week drug on, knowing he was insanely busy. I couldn’t expect him to drop everything else and prioritize me. But, a small part of me hoped he would.

I just wanted a little bit more of his attention.

Luckily, I- eventually- got it.

We were in Germany for the next week. We flew out from Italy that Sunday, settled into our hotel in the early afternoon. I hadn’t planned anything for that Monday, hoping to just rest a bit, leisure across the city, maybe. I knew, too, that the band was off that day. Maybe a small part of me was making sure I was available in case he wanted to grace me with his presence. I wouldn’t admit it, though, because it just wasn’t healthy.

But, my hopes amounted to something.

At first, things seemed to regress. There were no messages from him on my phone.

I thought about texting him first, but I felt strange doing so, like he’d be annoyed if I reached out instead. I then tried to ignore the sinking feeling that this put in my chest. Maybe he was done with me. Maybe he realized that this wasn’t ever going anywhere, especially considering we hadn’t so much as had an in-person conversation in a week. Luckily, I hadn’t slept with him.

My mind began racing too much, so I pulled myself out of bed and started getting ready for the day. Sam was already gone. He told me yesterday that he, Cy, Adam, and Ronnie had made plans to go do something. He offered me to come with, but I really wanted to just laze about. There was an infinity pool and today was going to be one of the warmest days of the summer for this country. Soaking up the sun seemed like a good way to truly relax.

So, I put on a bathing suit, slipped a sundress overtop, and rubbed sunscreen all over myself. I wasn’t about to battle a sunburn on top of jet lag. Then, I packed my purse with my water bottle, my latest book, headphones, and my wallet. Just as I went to grab my phone, sling my towel over my shoulder, head out, a knock came from the door.

I turned to the sound with furrowed brows. Housekeeping wasn’t supposed to come until we told them to. And, as far as I knew, we hadn’t scheduled a cleaning.

“Who is it?” I called out, stepping towards the door.

“It’s me,” a low voice responded, hushed in volume.

A thrilling excitement suddenly rushed through my veins. I tried not to rush over to the door and instead, forced myself to take slow steps. I set a hand on the handle, already feeling a shake in my bones. Just being this close to him pulled some sort of chemical reaction out of me.

The door opened and Oliver turned his head straight, to really look at me. He had been checking over his shoulder, paranoid about any passerbyers. As soon as he saw me, he grinned, wide. Then, he didn’t hesitate to shove me back into the room, his hands on my hips, his lips grasping for mine. He threw the door shut behind him.

It took me a second to find my footing. But, when I did, I became desperate, hungry. I tugged at the front of his hoodie in an attempt to get him as close to me as physically possible. Oliver ran a hand up my hip, across the front of my body, between my breasts, up around my neck. His fingers were slotted just beneath either side of my jaw. He pressed down, ever so slightly, to ensure my mouth stayed on his.

As he kissed me, I could tell he was basically starved. This was even more evident when he nipped my bottom lip, drawing just the thinnest drop of blood. I moaned, involuntarily, at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin, though it was only for a millisecond.

Oliver reared his head back, looking down at me with furrowed brows. He processed what had just happened, assisted by the size of my pupils and the way my lips sat, open, waiting for him to come back. A smirk twisted onto his lips, “Oh, darling…”

He pulled me back in, running his tongue across my bottom lip to clear the blood. My knees were weak. Luckily, he moved, so that he was sitting on the bed and tugged me down into his lap again. He didn’t hesitate to grab my ass, grip on my throat tightening a bit. He moved his lips to my cheek as his movements became painfully slow.

“You’re so pretty, Daisy,” he whispered against the apple of my cheek. I felt his eyelids flutter across my skin as he moved away from my lips. I nearly shivered at the goosebumps, a stark contrast to the heat pooling all over my body.

He moved his other hand to my neck, too, brushing the hair down over the back of my shoulder. In doing so, he placed his hand back where it had been. Then, his lips made their way to my bare skin, right where my neck curved into my shoulder. His sweet, soft kisses suddenly turned into small nips, his teeth tugging at my skin.

I squeaked at the first one, but, then, as he carried on down my neck, I found pleasure in the nipping pain. I gripped at his shoulders, a hand moving to his hair, as my desperation took over my body. I couldn’t sit still anymore. I ground my hips down into his, eliciting a huffed breath from Oliver. I wanted to grin at the power I knew I had over him, but I really just wanted to stay as I was- putty in his hands. I didn’t want any control. I was his to use, his to manipulate. I would do whatever.

But, I did find a little bit of a rhythm in my hips, if only because I needed the friction. I was motivated when I knew it was making him feel good, too. As I did so, Oliver’s lips came to my skin again. They caressed the edge of my earlobe, where I could hear his sweet breathlessness.

“Daisy,” he whispered, nearly moaning my name into my ear.

I shuddered a sharp, audible breath at the sound of this. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed him- everywhere. The anticipation, all of these long weeks- even just this one- it was killing me.

I pressed my forehead against the side of his head, whispering my own words into his ear, “Oliver, please!”

He finally listened. His hand found the bottom hem of my sundress and he quickly tore it from my head. It landed somewhere across the room. Eyes still dropped shut, I went blindly for his hoodie. But, Oliver caught my hands in his, stretching my arms out on either side of us.

I opened my eyes curiously, brows furrowed. His gaze was dragging itself down my swimsuit-clad body, a sly grin on his lips. I blushed at the look on his face and wanted to pull my arms back around myself. But, he held me open. He kept admiring.

“Daisy, darling,” he rolled his eyes back up, over my chest, until he met my stare. A wider grin stretched across his face. “Daisy…you are gorgeous.”

I scrunched up my nose and looked down at our laps. He dropped our hands and took my face in his hold, pulling my eyes back to his. “Don’t do that. We’re not gonna do that, okay? Even if you have to pretend, I won’t let you be ashamed of yourself when we do this, okay? You are…so fucking beautiful.”

I took a deep breath as the sincerity of his words sunk into my skin. I nodded slightly.

Oliver eyed my lips and slowly leaned back into me. This kiss was different. The hunger, the ferocity, slowed. It was almost…loving, gentle. But, then, I moved my hands back to his hair, tugged slightly, and he went back to ravishing me.

I helped Oliver shed his hoodie. Then, I had my turn, admiring his toned chest, scarce of any dark makeup. I didn’t have to say anything to him. I knew that he could read all of my thoughts through my eyes.

What I wanted to say, but couldn’t quite find the words to, was that he was something out of a Greek myth, something untouchable. Something that would never be real.

I drug my fingers down his chest as he kissed me again. I undid his belt. When I tugged at his jeans, I found my footing on the floor, moving off of him, so he could stand to pull the pants down. His hands were back on my body in an instant. Though he began to tug me back on his lap, I had my own plans. Just as I began to crouch down to his knees, Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but-

A knock sounded from the door, followed by a taunting, “Daisy…”

Shit.

Max.

My spine straightened so fast, I thought it would snap in half. Mine and Oliver’s head whipped towards the door, my own gaze widened with utter shock. Oliver formed a fist with his hand, punching the palm of his other in slow defeat.

He looked back to me, fear in his pupils, “What the fuck?”

I shrugged defensively, bewildered. I went to whisper back when Max spoke again. “Daisyyyyyy, darling- I know you’re awake. Was wondering if you wanted to hang today, since we’re both free. Cmon, open up-“ he rapped his knuckles against the door again.

Everything occurred in a desperate haste: Oliver rounded up his clothes, arms stuffed full of them, within five seconds flat. I tracked down his shoes as he did so. Then, I nearly pushed him onto the floor of the bathroom. He stumbled on his feet, barely catching himself on the counter. As the door fell shut, he shot me a panicked, worrisome expression that I could only scrunch my face up at. I didn’t know what he wanted me to do, but he was acting like someone was here to murder him.

I went to the door, sweating a bit, and lay a shaky hand upon the knob. Then, I realized I was half-naked and rushed to pull my dress back on. Before he could knock again, I let Max in, hoping I looked anything but suspicious.

As soon as he came into view, Max was elbowing his way inside. He held a tray with two drinks and a small brown pouch that wafted a delicious smell past me.

He carried an energy that was far too excited for my current nervous stature. “Good morning, darling! Sleep well? I sure did. What are your plans for the day? I’m thinking we lounge out by the pool for a few hours, maybe catch a late lunch, then hit the town? Drop by a few bars? Maybe we can round up the rest of the group, force Oliver out of his self-inflicted prison, have some fun? Yeah?”

As he spoke, Max moved around the room, unloading one of the drinks into my hands, picking out a few napkins, presenting a pastry on the small desk in the corner, seating himself onto the bed all casually with a leg crossed over the other. When he finished, he took a slow sip of his coffee, brows raised expectantly

I toyed with the lid on my drink, eyes darting nervously towards the bathroom. I knew it wasn’t true, but I almost felt like I could hear Oliver’s breathing. Smell his cologne. I worried Max would, too.

Everything would be over.

“Um-“ I cleared my throat. Then, I tried to relax my shoulders and approach Max with a friendly smile. “Yeah! Yeah, that could be fun. I was planning on going down to the pool anyway.”

“Wonderful, darling,” Max approved, “Well, why don’t you go ahead and finish getting ready and we’ll get going.”

I looked around me, trying to remember where I had left off this morning, when Oliver had barged in and interrupted my routine.

“I just need to grab my stuff, actually. I was heading out the door before O-“ I cut myself off from my explanation, lips pinched together in a way that I could only assume looked quite guilty. I swallowed thickly, ashamedly glancing towards the bathroom again. I tried to save myself, “before you started knocking, ha! What a coincidence!”

“Coincidence…” Max followed my glancing gaze. I snapped my eyes back forward, and he met me there. The edges of his pupils seemed to squint, like he was reading between the lines, but he didn’t say anything else. “Well! To the pool we go!”

We were in the clear…for now.

Oliver: i am so fucking sorry

Hes a prick

So fucking daft

God

I love him

But what a bloody idiot

Daisy: LMFAO

I dont even know what to say

I feel bad for you!!

Theres gonna be a witch hunt for you if anyone ever figures it out

Oliver: god dont remind me

Youre so worth it though

We spent hours poolside, like two beached whales, glistening with sweet sweat on our shoulders and sunscreen in our skin. I dipped into the water infrequently, if only to cool myself down, but spent most of my time finishing up a book (texting Oliver between its pages). I cursed Max for his lightly tinted shades, praying to whatever God above that he wasn’t side-eyeing me, that he couldn't see my illicit grins, my quick thumbs.

I tried to get Oliver to come hang out with us. If I couldn't have him to myself, I’d take small doses of him with others. But, as vampiric as he was, laying by the pool was just not something he wanted to do. Besides, in his own words:

Oliver: I just wouldn't be able to be so close to you without doing something

Especially with you in that little bit of cloth you call a swimsuit

I should be a dick and make you squirm

Make you think about me while you’re all peaceful by the pool

Make you think about my hands

My teeth

Daisy: Oliver…

Asshole

Oliver: sorry, darling

But after that incident with the cake?

And that bathing suit

Yeah i think it's my turn

(1 attached photo)

The heat outside was nothing compared to what I felt in my chest. I ensured my jaw was shut tightly, unwilling to let the saliva pooled in my mouth dribble down my chin. Then, I scrounged through my photo albums, cursing myself for having deleted my most intimate photos. Instead, I had to just stare (drool) at the one he’d sent- his hand, his bare stomach, the very edges of his pitch black boxers.

I would never lose this game- I just couldn't. But, in this moment, I was! While I liked being submissive in the end, I enjoyed being the one doing the teasing. That slight upper hand I got from it gave me a headrush. I was, I guess…bratty.

So, I watched Max carefully from the corner of my vision, thankful for my tiny bathing suit. I could make do- if he’d just leave. He was reading his own novel, hunched over a little bit. It had been a while since he’d gone to the bathroom or really even moved. He had to eventually.

My wishing on invisible stars worked because Max excused himself to the bathroom. He first paused to ensure I was doing okay. I thanked him for his concern with an urgent smile, quick nod of my head. And then he was gone.

Daisy: I really don’t get what all this fuss is about. I think this suit covers me up just fine, don’t ya think?

(1 attached photo)

Oliver: behave, miss thing

You have no idea what’s waiting for you

Daisy: sure, sure

Needless to say, Oliver put me on the very edge of my seat all day. I only had the one photo that was taken in the heat of the moment. He had…an empty hotel room and an imagination like any other. He never let me see past those stupid boxers though, holding out on me to only intensify that anticipation.

As was Max’s plan, we grabbed a late lunch. I had hoped we’d change beforehand, but he was so hungry, we had to rush out of the hotel. And, as per usual with Max, he took his good old time eating, strolling leisurely, dropping by every single shop that caught his eye. Don’t get me wrong- it was a lot of fun. I was grateful to have some one-on-one time with him.

But, I knew what- who was waiting for me back at the hotel. So, I was a little distracted.

Eventually, the day was coming to a close. No one really wanted to go out drinking because the band had rehearsals early in the morning. Instead, we were all going to meet up for a light dinner in the hotel bar.

I tried to escape Max as soon as we entered the hotel, but he insisted on walking me to my room. Meanwhile, Oliver was shooting me a dozen messages- he was in his room, he didn’t have a shirt on, and he was waiting for even the shortest possible breath that he could take at my lips.

Max stood outside my door, yapping about some shop lady who had made a joke to us earlier. He kept laughing, kept going over the punchline. It was funny, sure, but I was literally trying to close the door between us, a forced smile aching on my cheeks. We had to be at dinner in just half an hour and I needed to shower. I would sacrifice all that time for Oliver, but I was sure I smelled of sunscreen and sweat. I needed to rush under the hot water, and then rush into his arms.

“Ha! Can you imagine? What kind of-” Max kept going.

I faked another laugh, positive that one of my eyelids was winking shut, visibly displaying the max level of insanity that I felt right now. I took another step back into my room, preparing to bid farewell.

Luckily, Max caught sight of the time. “Holy shit, Daz,” he looked up from his watch, “it’s so late! Sorry to cut our wonderful day short, but we better hit the showers before everyone wonders where we’re at.”

“Ah! Good idea!” I bumped the heel of my hand against my head, shock on my face. Then, I pushed up onto my tiptoes to give him a short kiss to the cheek, “Thank you for today. I really just had the best time ever! Love you, Max!”

Then, as he began to respond, “Aw, darling, me, too! I love you-” I shut the door on him, “Oh- yep! I’ll see you in a bit!”

The speed at which I moved through that hotel room was sure to rip the carpet up off of the floor. I kicked off my sandals, sending one right into the window. It made a loud clanking noise, which I flinched at, before landing on Sam’s bed. But then I was already moving onto my sundress, tearing it off, ripping my swimsuit down my legs, over my head. Once those were off, I jumped in the shower, grateful that I didn’t need to wash my hair so I could do a quick rinse.

I was back out of the shower as quickly as I’d gotten in, doing my hair up into a claw clip, pulling on an outfit that didn’t require much thought, but was still concise enough to be cute. I barely had my phone and purse in hand before I was shooting across the hall, like a chicken crossing the road.

Oliver opened the door before I could even take a breath, tugging me in by my hips.

He had my back pressed up against the door, one of his spare hands already holding the base of my throat like a goddamn rosary. His dark eyes stared down at me, hungry, like he was about to consume every inch of my flesh. I went to say something, brows already lifted on my face in their devious position. In the process, my hands fished for him, grabbing at his shirt.

In one easy moment, Oliver grabbed both of my wrists, stretching my arms up and above my head. He squeezed my throat, ensuring my eyes were on his. My back arched from the movement, my chest pushing through the air as a small whine escaped my lips subconsciously.

Oliver drug his eyes down my body, smirking pleasedly at the movement he drew from my body. “We have five minutes. Shut the fuck up and be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“Okay.”

We weren’t really being realistic about how much time we would get together.

Two minutes later, Oliver was on his knees below me, his large hands bruising either one of my thighs, my hands were entangled in his hair, my underwear were somewhere far across the room, and his breath was ghosting my core. Just as he inched painfully, teasingly closer, someone was knocking on his door.

It was my turn to hide as Adam and Cyrus ushered Oliver from his hotel room, excitedly telling him about some new song they’d just heard. After ensuring in the bathroom mirror that I didn’t look disheveled, I watched through the peephole as they neared the elevators. Oliver peered over his shoulder, the smallest of smiles on his lips. I rolled my eyes. Of course he’d find it funny- he was winning again.

Then, when the hallway seemed clear, I quickly left his room and tried to casually make my way down to the dining room.

Oliver was trying not to laugh, I just knew it- his lips were pressed together, a humored look in his eyes as he pretended to be occupied with the potatoes he mashed around with his dinner fork. I glared at him as I approached the table.

Then, Sam was talking to me, asking me and Max about our busy day and I had to pretend like their best friend hadn’t just been on his knees for me.

This was killing me.

Surely, I thought to myself as dinner came to a close and everyone began heading to bed, surely we would find the time. Surely our luck wasn’t that bad. We’d get some time alone- we just had to.

So, as the elevator that Sam, Ronnie, and I caught closed, and carried us to the fifth floor, I quickly texted Oliver. I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping, praying, wishing this would work.

Daisy: soon as Sam goes to bed, i can be over

A heavy heat of anticipation sat right on top of my chest, shooting off butterflies in my stomach, making me breathless when I said goodnight to Ronnie.

I waited, patiently, for about an hour- no, exactly an hour and ten minutes. I waited an hour and ten minutes for Oliver to text me back. I stared at the numbers in the top middle of my phone screen as I pretended to read a book. Then, when Sam lay down and shut off all the lights, I rolled onto my side, the dim glow of my screen filling my corner of the room. My eyes glazed over numerous times while each little number morphed into the next. Slowly but painfully surely, the delightful anticipation began to dissipate.

I really wanted to be chill, to be normal and casual and just…go to bed. Accept that maybe he had fallen asleep, maybe his phone had died. Pretend like there wasn’t a small hole sinking in my stomach.

But, I saw him begin typing forty minutes in.

And then he stopped.

And I still waited another half an hour for him to respond.

He never did.

The next morning, I was able to forget about it.

I focused on the productive conversation we’d had in the bus, the one where he set a boundary with me, where he told me he couldn’t really offer me much in terms of connection or romance. The one where I practically begged him to just have me in whatever way he could.

And, I forced myself to stop worrying about the fact that he never responded. The world, after all, did not revolve around me. I needed to be reminded of that and have patience with him. Besides, I wasn’t going to allow myself to feel that- disappointment. Small bits of heartbreak. This meant basically nothing, right? We were just hooking up, hanging out. It wasn’t that big of a deal, like we discussed.

I’m chill with that.

I ate breakfast with the band, discussing with Ronnie some of the best tourist attractions that she suggested I seek out. Oliver was a little late this morning, feet dragging a bit. When I saw him round the corner to the dining room, I sat up just a bit. He seemed tired as he took a seat at the opposite end of the table, hoodie up, as per usual. He didn’t really touch any of his food, but instead nursed a cup of tea. So, I ignored the sinking feeling that came when he didn’t even look at me.

He showed up. That’s what really mattered.

I tried not to be distracted as Ronnie told me about some sort of monument, but it was a struggle when my concern for Oliver was as relevant as it was. There was just something off about him…and it almost felt like it had to do with us, with me. Or maybe I was just reading into things a little too much. Again.

Everyone else finished up their breakfast before me. So, the group broke off before long, a few headed out the door to the venue, some up to their rooms to grab last minute items. I watched as Oliver straggled behind Adam and Cyrus, towards the elevators. When he first stood to follow them, I tried to meet his eye, tried to shoot him a reassuring, encouraging smile. He evaded my gaze. My shoulders dropped a little.

When they were out of sight, I took my phone out and grappled with texting him. I felt like I should, just to see if he was okay. But, then, the part of me that knew there was nothing serious between us fought against that want. It wasn’t weird, right? If I texted him, just to see how he’s doing?

But, then, come to think of it…he never even said good morning to me. So he probably just wanted to be left alone. I should probably just read the signs he was clearly giving and just provide him with some space. He didn’t need me up his ass at every waking moment, constantly expressing my concern for his every move. Especially not after the conversation we’d just had.

I felt a little insecure, a little worried, going back over every interaction we’d had like I was responsible for a grown man’s feelings. I pushed aside the overthinking my brain was ruminating on and decided to just get up, to just get started with my day.

This thing between us was not going to work out if I overanalyzed his every breath, if I let it all get to me. I needed to chill out- just be chill. Cool.

I headed for the elevators, purse slung over my shoulder. The doors were already opened, so I stepped inside. When I faced forward, Oliver was there, following me in, my name barely a greeting off his lips.

“Daisy…”

“Oliver, hey-”

He interrupted me, lips on mine before I could even take a breath. I was taken aback, just briefly, before getting swept up in his soft touches, his hungry mouth. My purse slid off my shoulder. Oliver’s fingers caressed my cheek, my hip, pushing into me until my back was against the wall.

We kissed until the bell dinged, signaling that the doors were opening up to our floor. Oliver pulled back, quickly distancing himself from me. His chest heaved a little, out of breath from our encounter. His pupils were shot, wide, blown up. I furrowed my eyebrows as I carefully eyed him. I was trying to read between the lines here, but I couldn’t.

And he was gone before I could ask for any answers from him.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, rubbing moisturizer into my freshly clean face. Taylor Swift was playing softly on my phone, a subtle soundtrack to my evening routine. It had been another long day of perusing across Europe. My feet ached from the 10 miles I’d walked, my stomach was full from the delicious dinner I caught on the way home, and my brain was buzzing with all of the sights and sounds I’d taken in. I was going to cherish these evenings for the rest of my life.

I had even managed to stop worrying about Oliver, had let the pitiful racing thoughts that had been taking up space in my mind fall away. I was going to be cool about it. I was going to be the chill, casual girl.

What we had, what we were doing, was just hooking up. We hadn’t explicitly agreed on keeping any strings to ourselves, but Oliver had told me he couldn’t really offer any in the first place. And that was okay! It’s not like I needed to be in a relationship anyways. I was going back to school in the fall and I’d probably, honestly, never even see him again after this summer.

Casually hooking up with someone would probably be good for my development, anyways. It would teach me to become more comfortable with my body, to be more patient, to be more understanding. To just chill the fuck out, honestly. Yeah, I’d totally gotten rid of those racing thoughts…ha.

Anyways, even though I wanted to text him, to see what was going on, to see if he was okay, I just wasn’t going to. I was gonna tuck myself into bed, get a goodnight’s rest, and prepare myself for another long day. Focus on me, my happiness, my health.

My plan was going well, too. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Then, at around midnight, I woke to my phone buzzing on my nightstand.

I lazily brought the device to my ear, murmuring some sort of greeting through half-lidded eyes. “Hello?”

“Come over.”

“What- hello? Oliver?” I sat up in bed, a little jolted by the situation. I spoke in hushed whispers, eyes on Sam’s figure to ensure that he was passed out still.

Oliver’s voice replied in an exhausted tone, “I can’t sleep. Come over.”

I took my sweet time, not wanting to seem desperate, not wanting to be at his beck and call. I pulled a hoodie down over my torso before slipping out of the room. I guided the door shut, flinching when it clicked a little louder than expected. Once I was sure the hall was clear, I headed towards Oliver’s door.

He must have been watching from the peephole, waiting for me to arrive, because as soon as I made it, the door was open and he had his hands on me again. His touch was more desperate than ever before, fingers harsh, tongue rough.

I could barely gasp for air as he gorged on my lips, overfeeding himself. I was growing more concerned for his mental health, considering it seemed like he was displacing whatever he was feeling onto me. I probably already knew what was going on- the stress of the tour, of making the next album, it was all getting to him.

He barely had any time to himself anymore, barely had any chances to breathe, to execute self care. He was overworking himself. He was just exhausted.

I felt guilty kissing him, touching him. It felt exploitive and dirty.

So, when his hands traveled down my body, up under my hoodie, to my pants, I brushed them off of me. I took a big step away from him, reaching out my own touch to keep the distance between us.

“Oliver-” I took a deep breath, trying to ground my dizzy head.

His eyes were bloodshot. He hadn’t tasted like alcohol, so I assumed he must be high. Or he had been crying. I didn’t really know which one.

Whatever exhaustion pooled in his gaze dissipated as it was replaced with worry. He took a small step towards me, palms out in a wary manner. “I’m so sorry- what is it? Are you okay, darling? What did I do?”

My jaw was a little slack, concern drowning my features and tone. “No, no- nothing! Sorry- nothing! You’re good. We’re good. I promise.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as his shoulders slumped a bit forward. “Thank fuck. I thought I hurt you or something.”

“I mean you were being a little rough, but that’s okay,” I managed a breathy chuckle.

Oliver ran hand through his hair, glancing around the room, to his feet, back to me. “Why’d you stop, then? Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” I emphasized, “I’m more worried about you.”

Oliver sighed, loudly, posture dropping a bit more. He wiped his face as he looked away from me again. “Why?” He sounded annoyed with me.

“I’m not gonna pry, cause I know it’s not my business, but…”

“It’s not,” he cut me off.

I reared my chin back. I thought carefully, choosing my words delicately, as I crossed my arms over my chest, “I know. I know it’s not my business. I just- just want-”

“What?” He spoke impatiently.

“Just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Oliver didn’t respond. He stared at the floor beside my slippers, as though he could bore a hole with his eyes, sink into it, and slip away from this moment. I looked past his head. I didn’t want to pressure him with pervasive eye contact.

Then, after a minute or two, I heard him sniffle. I still didn’t move too much, but ran my eyes over his face. He wiped away a few tears. Oliver bit into his bottom lip, which wobbled around a bit. He didn’t want to give into the emotions overwhelming his nervous system, but he was going to have to.

I couldn’t hold myself away from him any longer. He needed connection, touch, gentleness. So, I walked right up to him and hugged him, tugging his head down into the crook of my neck. I felt his arms squeeze my entire self into him, like an anchor at his shores, calming his seas.

For the next twenty minutes, we stood there, my heart sitting just underneath his own, beating into one another. He didn’t really cry too much, probably unwilling to. I didn’t like to cry in front of others either. It was vulnerable, too vulnerable.

We just hugged each other. I caressed my fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him, to provide solace. He just squeezed me back, tight as ever. It felt really good. I wasn’t going to pull away first, but he eventually did.

He let out one of those embarrassed laughs, wiped the tears clean off his cheeks, and moved to sit on the bed. I offered a kind smile, but still didn’t say anything. He would come to me with whatever was on his mind whenever he felt ready to.

“Sorry…about- that. Probably, uh- probably weird.”

“Not at all,” I waved him off, moving slowly towards him.

He looked up to me, his palms resting on the edge of the bed, and motioned for me to sit. I did.

“I’m just…just tired,” he shrugged.

I knew it was more than that. I knew that he harbored a lot of negative feelings towards himself, something he had confirmed for me just last week. He held himself up to a crazy standard and, of course, never met those expectations. No human being ever could.

I wouldn’t convince him of this fact, not in just one moment together. But, I could tell him one thing that he probably needed to hear. Something he’d value and treasure for longer than just a moment.

“I’m proud of you,” I spoke softly, turning my head to meet his eyes.

He didn’t say anything. He just swallowed, rubbed his lips together, thought long and hard. Then, he glanced away, brought his eyes back to mine and nodded, just once. I saw the words slot themselves into his mind, stored away for just him to hold onto. I knew he valued my opinion, so even though it wouldn’t fix his issues, it would provide some support. Support was the only way to get to recovery, to healing.

Oliver set his hand on mine, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “When I first met you, you told me you were trying to discover life this summer. To find deeper meaning. The more I get to know you, the more I disagree with that.”

“Oh?” I furrowed my brows. “And why’s that?”

“It’s just not accurate,” he shrugged, “you have so much meaning. You’re…you’re so sweet. And kind. And intentional with everything you do. You put so much goodness out with even just your gaze. I just…”

I stared up at him with, I’m sure, these big dopey eyes. Words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I really like you, Oliver.”

He frowned slightly as he brought a hand to my face, thumb brushing the apple of my cheek. I searched his eyes and couldn’t find the answer needed for what I had said. So, the distant smile on my face twisted upside down, worry lacing my features. Had I gone too far?

“I know, darling,” was all he said.

Moments of silence passed between us.

I knew he couldn’t give me much, but maybe now that my feelings were out there, clear as day, written in the sand, maybe it would help him feel more secure about whatever this was. Maybe he’d jump in with me. After all, I was scared, too. Hell, as of this morning I wasn’t looking for a relationship. But- we could be good together. He could be good for me. I know I would be good for him.

Maybe we could l-

“I don’t know that I communicated this to you well enough,” Oliver went on.

“It’s okay…”

Oliver glanced away, seemingly ashamed of whatever he was gonna say. “I can’t be in a relationship with you, Daisy. I just…I’m not good. I’m not ready. I don’t want to hurt you. I think you deserve better. We’re on different paths- I have a million excuses.”

I don’t know how I managed to avoid the tears because I could feel them threatening me from behind my eyes. But, I did. I put on this facade, acted out the role. Stood, nodding slowly, painting a sweet smile on my face.

“It’s okay. I understand. I’ll just…I’m gonna leave,” I headed for the door.

But, Oliver was grabbing my hand. “I don’t want you to. I know it…it’s so selfish of me, but I want you anyways. We have two more months before you have to go home- so who says we can’t just be casual, have fun for the rest of summer? I’d…I know I can’t ask that of you, but…I’d like that.”

I would hate him for this. I would hate myself for it, too.

But, having pieces of him was better than nothing.

I could push aside my feelings- fuck, I was already getting good at it.

I would be the cool girl, even if it killed me.

Even if it killed us.

#sleep token fanfic #sleep token x reader #iii sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token smut #vessel sleep token #sleep token iii #sleep token vessel #sleep token iv #sleep token band #sleep token #vessel (sleep token) x reader #vessel x you #vessel x reader #vessel smut #vessel

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stusbunker · 9 months ago

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Spotless: Arpeggio

Chapter Twenty

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Bobby/Annie, Pam/Lee, OFC Gibson, Ash, Benny, Cesar/Jesse, Kevin, Cas, and Charlie

Word Count: 4031

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, recreational drug use, surprise birthday guests, Dean being a giant kid, actually it's everyone, more history and an uh-oh, unbeta'd

A/N: You know how you outline bullet points that you need covered in a chapter and then you write all day long and forget one of the biggest ones until literally the last sentence? Yeah, me neither.

Anyway, I can't believe we are TWENTY whole chapters into this beast. Thank you all, so SO much for hanging around. xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Dean’s morning began with a blow horn blast compliments of Sam, who then received a bitch slap from his very frightened and at odds older brother.

“Rise and shine, jerk. It’s the last year of your thirties!”

Dean groaned and buried his head beneath the pillows, poorly hiding from anymore horns. “Hephha waaff to wff agy hpp birfay”

“WHAT?! I can’t hear you?!”

Dean flipped Sam off and rolled over. “Helluva way to wish a guy Happy Birthday.”

Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s not all.”

He pulled out a bag of the greasiest breakfast burritos from a shop around the corner from Charlies that they had discovered after being up all night gaming, drunk and caffeinated out of their minds.

“Oh my god, you do love me!” Dean snatched the bag out of Sam’s hand and grabbed a burrito and cradled it to his chest. He looked up at Sam and said fervently, “I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said to you.”

“No you don’t. You’re just hungry. You want me to leave you two alone or should I take it back downstairs where the coffee lives?”

Dean stared down at the warm lump in his hand and honestly considered eating it right away, but Sam was right and scrambled eggs and peppers were not something he wanted to clean off his sheets whenever he found them again after the coming festivities.

“Yeah, thanks, let me grab some clothes and I’ll meet you down there.”

“You got it,” Sam took the burrito back as Dean dropped it into his outstretched hand.

“No fucking with it now, I know how it’s supposed to be wrapped,” Dean warned with a firm pointer finger.

Sam rolled his eyes and his hair along with them and stalked out of Dean’s room towards the backstairs that led into the kitchen.

They ate breakfast in relative silence, coffee and contemplation and all that. Just two brothers celebrating a year that both of them were worried wouldn’t come. Aging might be a bitch, but it is definitely better than the alternative. And for the Winchester brothers, a blessing they weren’t ever quite sure they deserved.

Charlie and you slinked in just after noon, after Dean and Sam had half-heartedly worked off their breakfasts and showered for the day. You had the most obnoxious balloon cowboy hat for him while Charlie presented him with a ‘birthday prince’ sash that he was under orders to keep on all day.

Dean eyed you both with a simmering shame-twinged annoyance. This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. He already got looks when he went out as it was, plus only a douche of a grown man demands strangers acknowledge his birthday that way.

“Guys, come on. I’m not— this is a little ridiculous,” Dean didn’t want to be ungrateful.

You sighed. “Okay, fine, spoilsport. Just let us take a few pictures and you can ditch the hat.”

“Oh! The hat was the best part!” Sam lamented.

“Can it, Sammy,” Dean snipped.

Charlie chuckled. “Okay, but you can totally wear the sash where we’re going, because nobody else will even be there to see you in it, just your friends.”

Dean pursed his lips and looked the redhead in the eye, she wasn’t going to let him win. “Great—- just great.”

Lee and Benny were gonna have a field day with this one.

“Atta boy! Say CHEESE!” Charlie chirped, taking way too many shots and angles with him and his birthday attire.

They hung out and shared a joint, picking at a cheese tray that Sam had pulled out. Sure they had places to be, but that was the beauty of being the guest of honor, everything revolved around Dean-time. And as absolutely narcissistic as that sounded, Dean could get used to that kind of schedule.

The party bus arrived just before two. It was actually the band’s touring bus, which meant it was roomy and stocked to the brim with alcohol and edibles. Bud itself was never left on the bus to dry out. Inside were Benny, Cesar and Jesse, all moderately sober as they were also acting as light security detail for the day. Pam and Lee brought Gibson along, which told Dean wherever they were headed was going to be fun, however wholesome. Madison and Annie were there with Bobby upfront driving ‘The Proud Mary’ as the bus was so lovingly called. And around the table in the small kitchenette were Kevin, Ash and Cas.

Holy shit, Dean had to blink.

He turned around on the stairs and looked at you, who were the only one daring enough to pull this off. “Are you kidding me right now?!”

“What?” You smirked and batted your eyelashes with fake innocence.

Dean looked at you and felt something in his chest crack. But before he could get overrun by the emotions, gratitude, fear, even anger, Sam cleared his throat.

“In or out, Dean, air’s on.”

Dean nodded and blinked away the awe. “Thank you,” he grunted beneath his breath and turned to the cheers and jeers of his people.

“There he is!”

“Birthday boy!”

“Hey Winchester, I like your do-hickey,” Benny teased.

“It’s a sash, dumbass,” Cesar quipped, flicking the brim of Benny’s cap.

“HAPPY BIRTH-DAY,” Pam started offkey and then everybody joined in. Dean nodded along, faux-conducting and fighting the blush on his cheeks with every out of tune note.

He bowed as the song ended and then griped, “Yeah, okay, enough of that. Let’s get this shit started, shall we?! Uh, Gibson you good to DD on the way home, buddy?”

Everyone laughed.

“UNCLE DEAN! I can’t drive yet.”

“You sure?”

“I’m only six!”

“I don’t know,” Dean said thoughtfully, bending to look the stringbean over. “I think you could pass for seven or eight maybe.”

“Nuh-uh!”

Dean ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug. “Fine! I’ll let Bobby keep his spot for today, but when you get your license, come talk to me about a job young man,” Dean promised.

Dean eased onto the bus, with you and Sam on his heels until you broke off to find a seat. He nodded and accepted hugs and high fives before he made his way to the table in the back, well that section’s back. The bunks and the bathroom were down a short hallway past the eating area and bar.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming,” Dean said broadly, but his eyes couldn’t stop looking for Cas’.

“Of course, man! Gotta celebrate another trip around the sun,” Ash exclaimed, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Kevin sniggered as he looked up at Dean and back across to Cas. “You know he’s real and everything.”

“He even speaks,” Cas deadpanned, turning his glare at Kevin.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Happy birthday, Dean.”

Dean felt the lurch of the bus entering traffic and panic resurfaced. “Good to see you. But, uh, we’ll catch up at some point? I gotta,” Dean sputtered and thumbed toward the general direction of the side-by-side seats along one wall.

“Of course,” Cas nodded, but gave Dean a tentative smile. Dean felt lightheaded but he felt better when he had a solid seat underneath his ass. Talk about a mindfuck.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and silently thanked the universe that he agreed to these super secret, group, birthday shenanigans.

The adventure park was suspiciously abandoned, even for a weekend day. But Dean took it as part of the present, no paps, no families with kids too young for school clogging up the Skee Ball lanes or having accidents on the go karts. He was kind of amazed y’all were able to pull this off, but it was far enough away from the busier parts of town that maybe you had scored a good deal. Or maybe Dean didn’t want to think about how much you and Sam and probably Bobby had shelled out for the day.

Even after years of his own success, Dean felt guilty whenever people spent money on him.

“Okay, line up for your wristbands. Everyone gets one, if you run out of tokens, tough luck. Laser Tag and Go Karts are available if we ask, just make sure there’s a big enough group to make up for the staff being pulled to those locations. Pizza will be set out as a buffet at five. I’ll get pitchers of water and soda out in the meantime,” you used a teacher's voice over the rowdy crowd as they beelined out of the bus and up to the gates.

Dean was almost giddy; he was so excited.

You bestowed a lanyard over his head, instead of a wristband. Which meant unlimited tokens for games and a turn in the vortex machine where paper tickets floated around and he was supposed to catch them for prizes. He was banking on letting Gibson take that responsibility, but hadn’t said anything because he knew Pam hated to spoil him, especially on someone else’s birthday. Oh well, being a surrogate Uncle held some leeway afterall.

“First one to the gokarts is a rotten egg!” Ash called out, making everyone turn on their heels and book it through the doors.

Dean laughed at the reversion to grade school taunts, but definitely tripped Sam on his way passed.

Somehow, Bobby and Annie got the first kart, but then again Dean didn’t remember seeing them as you made your little announcement, so they must have had a head start. The line was a mass of people bickering for a turn, which color kart they wanted, or which number if you were Charlie and Kevin. Dean had his shotgun attached at his hip, bouncing on the soles of his feet. But everytime he glanced up and saw Cas talking to Sam or nodding at something Pam said, he had to do a double take.

In all, they filled nearly all the available twelve karts. Dean and Gibson were in number 11, Lee, Benny, Pam, Cas, Ash, Kevin, Cesar, Jesse and Charlie all drove solo. While Sam and Madison, Bobby and Annie paired off. No one could get you in one of those things if they tried, and they all knew better than to try. Which Dean was grateful for, he hated rehashing your shit for other people’s understanding.

They did four lap races for almost an hour, with Dean sneaking past Bobby for the final victory. But everyone (except for Ash and Charlie) had lost count of their stats by the time they got inside to chug some soda and hit the arcade area before dinner.

Dean was sweating, faux satin clinging to his back through his shirts as he polished off a cup of flat cola. But he couldn’t keep the grin off his face long, seeing all of his favorite people milling around, trying to one up each other or just beat one another to a coveted game. It was the stuff of childhood birthdays he had only ever dreamed about, but you had made possible.

Lee held Gibson on his shoulders as they took Sam on at the free throw alleys. Charlie and Madison were playing some kind of shooting game while Kevin and Cesar watched them, obviously impressed by their stances with the fake rifles. It made him think of Jo and Big Buck Hunter for the briefest moment, but he tucked that away and chose to relish in the moment instead. Cas and Jesse were at the air hockey table and Bobby and Ash huddled by the wall of Skeeball machines, not partaking themselves, just watching you as you sank ball after ball into the 300 or better rings.

Dean couldn’t pick what he wanted to do next, so he just watched for a few minutes, soaking in the joy around him.

Eventually, his stomach chose for him. The pizzas were delivered in a tidy row down a side table of every cheap topping option available. There was even a mushroom option, which was probably the only thing close to a vegetable in the place, but it meant Sam couldn’t bitch. Everyone chowed down, standing and sitting in hodgepodge groupings, laughing and debating on what to do next.

Pam was comparing Cas’ and Kevin’s tattoos as Dean approached, paper plate firmly in hand, chewing as he silently butt into the conversation.

“Looks good, I mean, he’d hate them, but you know that would only be for show,” Pam said about the late Rufus.

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, pulling his arm back.

“Crotchety old bastard,” Dean added between bites.

“May he rest in peace,” Pam added, respect and mirth flitted in her eyes.

“So, Cas, how’s the kid and the band and fucking everything?” Pam changed the subject.

“Uh, we’re—- making progress,” Cas said simply, clearly unsure what to do with Dean’s presence. He worried at his lip ring like he always did when he was uncomfortable, but Dean was too damn curious and stubborn to take the hint.

“They’re finding their sound, it’s kind of cool to see it happen. You should go with me sometime to their rehearsals. It’s very organic,” Kevin explained. “It’s like they can sense what the other is thinking and just go for it.”

Dean couldn’t even pretend that that didn’t sting.

He cleared his throat. “So, where do you guys practice?”

“Oh— my place,” Cas said.

The fact that Kevin had been hanging with Cas and getting tattoos was one thing. The fact that he was in on this new band and its budding chemistry all while getting to spend time in Cas’ space was nothing short of getting his knees kicked out.

Not to mention, Cas had barely a townhouse with only one extra bedroom. He always preferred to live simply, as he put it.

“How does that work?”

Pam crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, seeing where this was going better than Dean. “Are you a garage band, Cas?”

He just shrugged.

Dean chuckled under his breath. “That’s what you meant by organic,” he said to Kevin.

“Not exactly— that’s part of it, but I don’t know if it’s like some gene thing or a psychic connection. They’re just really good together.”

Pamela inhaled as Dean squinted at Cas, who had gone stock still with Kevin’s words.

“Gene thing?”

“Dean—,” Pamela warned.

“Oh, crap,” Kevin said, realizing too late that Dean was apparently more in the dark than he’d known.

Castiel remained silent, eyes boring into Dean, waiting for the explosion. It made Dean sick to realize that Cas was afraid of him, of his temper, still.

Dean set down his slice of pizza and squared his shoulders, trying to keep it civil. To not be that guy anymore. “Cas, come on man. What’s that about? He some long lost cousin or something?”

“Jack’s my kid, actually.”

Dean sputtered. “Yeah right, nice one.”

Everyone glared at him.

“You’re serious? How? When? I would have fucking noticed if you had actually boned down some chick—- I mean how old is he?”

Cas rolled his eyes and Dean had the sinking sensation that absolutely none of this was his business. But Cas had been his best friend for most of their lives— it was important information to have, even if it was twenty years too late.

Kevin and Pam silently agreed to disappear, but Dean couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened. They were there and then they were gone.

“Dean,” Cas chastised.

“No— I deserve to know. I mean, what the hell? A kid?”

Cas raised his eyebrow, the one with the damn ring in it and Dean wanted, not for the first time, to yank it out.

“Kind of like I— like we deserved to know you were in an underground fighting ring? Like you had some sort of deathwish pact with a pimp and a known murderer?”

Dean felt an icy chill run down his spine, his hands instantly turned to fists and he had to breathe to keep the rage at bay. But his chest was so tight and the shame had become worms in his stomach. He wasn’t going to puke at his own birthday party, not from something as pathetic as his own mistakes. Alcohol would have been an easier taste in his mouth.

The party continued around them, but Dean didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

Cas seemed to register that and looked down at his boots before meeting Dean’s eye once more. “Dean, I’m sorry— that— that was uncalled for.”

Dean swallowed down the bile and exhaled.

He unclenched his fists, shaking them slightly to feel something other than overwhelming emotion, the kind he’d need a few sessions with Missouri to even name.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean grunted, head down as he got himself together.

“Dean— we should talk, but I can’t really explain myself in front of everyone.”

Dean hummed.

“It’s just— I think there’s a lot we never got off our chests and it only made the last couple of years harder— on both of us.”

“It seems like everyone else already knows your business, Cas. Just kind of sucks to be the last to know.”

Cas nodded, eyes still tight, still on guard.

“But I guess the way I was— kind of makes sense. I didn’t deserve to know.”

Cas’ face softened. “Dean— that’s not. Let’s not, right now. Later. Okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Dean inched around the corner, weapon drawn and head on a swivel. He couldn’t see much, but endless nooks for the enemy to hide. The arena was dark, out of necessity, but it only added to the adrenaline pumping through him. Dean nodded to his teammate and they spun around the next edge, fingers on their triggers as they stood back to back.

He really wished they had communication between the other members of Green Team, but that was just rich people thinking for a family entertainment center. It wasn’t like they were storming the beaches of Normandy here.

Something moved in his periphery but before Dean could turn you shot behind him, getting Kevin square in the chest. You both watched as Kevin fell dramatically to the floor, one down, five more to go.

“Nice shot,” Dean said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I feel like that was too easy,” you replied, searching the area while you whispered.

“Might have been a scout,” Dean agreed.

“Yeah, but—”

He felt you shift behind him and he rounded to cover you, but Benny was already there, a near wall of guns behind him.

“It was a fire fight!” Ash screamed out of his spot above them, taking Charlie out with the distraction.

You kept your body turned, lessening their target and fired without even blinking, but Sam had height on you and you ended up taking each other out. Dean, unable to make a shot connect, cursed, turned tail, and ran, ducking down a ladder and trying to loop back on Benny and Pam.

Three down to his team’s one, that he knew of, still good odds.

But then he saw Jesse sitting with his back against a wall, clearly down. Dean needed to find Cas and Cesar yesterday. Or they wouldn’t be able to call it in their favor. He crouched down and checked his back, without you to watch his six he felt extra exposed, though he kept to the edges, using the shadows to his advantage.

He heard whispering and he immediately hit the deck, rolling until he was flush with wall length-wise. But the voices stopped about ten feet away, either on the level above him or around the corner out of sight. Dean waited, gun drawn and senses on overdrive.

The telltale electronic chime of a chest plate activating sounded off and the voices turned from whispers to shouts of shock. Someone had gotten Pam.

Which meant that Lee and Benny were the only ones left from Sam’s team.

And Lee was alone looking to the rafters from the sounds of it.

Dean army-crawled around the corner and got Lee from underneath, his cackle of victory the only way Lee even knew he was there.

“You sonofabitch!” Lee griped, helping Dean up before disappearing to the land of misfit toys, aka following Pam to the nearest exit.

Cesar appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and nodded Dean back to the rest of the team. Cas and Ash were still alive and kicking, strategizing on how to find or draw out Benny. But before Dean could turn and let Cesar back into the huddle, his chest piece crackled to life: Benny had shot him in the back.

Dean waved him off, trying to catch up with Benny’s trail, as Ash and Cas flanked him widely. They tried to cast a broad net, but instead they left too much space and Benny wound around them and took Ash out without Dean or Cas even seeing him.

Dean looked at Cas and Cas nodded, doubling back and letting Dean take point.

It felt like hours, but really it only took maybe five more minutes of creeping around the obstacles in the center of the arena for Dean to catch sight of Benny. His sturdy frame ducked behind a pillar as Dean slowly followed. But he was too slow, because Benny had spun around and had his gun on Dean’s back plate before Dean could move.

“Bang bang,” Benny taunted, but he didn’t pull the trigger. He wanted Dean to surrender, but that wouldn’t do anything unless… Benny didn’t know Cas was still out there.

Dean held up his arms, but he didn’t drop his weapon.

“Alright, cher, nice and easy,” Benny coaxed Dean to turn face him.

“You got me,man,” Dean huffed, playing it up.

“Well, even the Birthday Prince loses sometimes.”

Then Benny’s chest flashed to life.

“What the—”

“And sometimes they still win,” Cas’ deadpan interrupted Benny’s surprise.

“Nice one, Cas!” Dean held up his hand for a high five, but Cas just cocked his head as the overheads snapped on, blinding them all in sudden light.

It wasn’t the first time that Dean thought Cas had some super-human senses. And he was happy to think that it probably wasn’t the last time either. Not anymore.

Everything considered, Gibson won the day. Every single adult, even Kevin, forked over the prize tickets they had wracked up on their wristbands for Gibson to exchange for a four foot long stuffed dog from some show or another. Dean fist bumped him and helped him carry the thing back onto the bus. But before Dean could haul himself up the first step, Sam pulled him back to the curb.

“Here— don’t say I never got you anything.” Sam handed him a massive rainbowed Slinky.

“Holy shit! I didn’t even see that! This is awesome,” Dean geeked out. “Thanks, man.”

Sam just shook his head and grinned.

Everyone got back on the bus and started in on the adult beverages as you sorted the tab and made sure everything was alright with the staff. Dean sat on his hands, forcing himself not to run back in and add on his own tip. He really did trust you, but some habits were hard to break.

“Ready?” Dean heard Bobby ask you before cranking the door shut.

The bus rumbled off the curb and into the neverending traffic of the city at night. But they had everything they could possibly need on board. And when you sat down in the spot beside him, Dean couldn’t think of a single thing that could make his birthday any better.

He looked over at you and smiled, soft, just a hint of it on his lips, trying to keep himself from saying something stupid. You rolled your eyes and smiled back. And yeah, today might have been one for the books. But there were still chapters left unwritten between you two and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wait anymore to find out what they’d said.

Then his phone rang. “Dean? Happy birthday! How did you want to go celebrate?”

It was Bela.

He had completely forgotten to invite Bela.

And apparently, somehow, so had you.

Fuck.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter 22: Dolce

#spotless series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating #dean fluff #dean angst

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asmo-d3us · 7 months ago

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HIT ME HARD AND SOFT lyrics as Marauders Era characters.

SKINNY:

1. “Fell in love for the first time, with a friend it’s a good sign.” - bartylus, rosekiller, or wolfstar.

2. “People say I look happy, just because I got skinny.” - either Peter or Lily maybe??

3. “And you said I was your secret. And you didn’t get to keep it.” - jegulus.

LUNCH:

This song is literally just all the lesbian ships into one. It’s like Marlene finding out she’s gay asf and having a gay panic with this song in the background or smth 💀

CHIHIRO:

1. “Did you, take, my love, away, from me?” - regulus about jily, and barty about jegulus.

2. “I don’t know why I called, I don’t know you at all. // but there’s a part of me that recognizes you. Do you feel it too?” - Sirius and Regulus about each other.

3. “Wringing my hands in my lap, and you tell me it’s all been a trap, and you don’t know if you’ll make it back, I say ‘No, don’t say that.’” - regulus to Sirius before he ran away.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER:

1. “Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know I said I’d never think I wasn’t better alone, can’t change the weather, might not be forever, but if it’s forever, it’s even better.” - the pantheons, the marauders, & the valkyries about each other. + platonic prongsfoot and platonic rosestarkiller.

2. “It might not be long, but baby, I, I'll love you 'til the day that I die, 'Til the day that I die. 'Til the light leaves my eyes, 'Til the day that I die.” - evan about barty, or regulus about james. maybe even barty about regulus himself.

3. “I want you to see how you look to me. You wouldn't believe if I told ya, you would keep the compliments I throw ya. But you're so full of shit. Tell me it's a bit, say you don't see it, your mind's polluted. Say you wanna quit, don't be stupid.” - james to regulus or evan to barty. Perhaps Sirius talking about how regulus looks up to him but he always denies it??

4. “I knew you in another life. You had that same look in your eyes. I love you, don't act so surprised.” - literally every single ship in this fandom including the black brothers.

WILDFLOWER (there’s so many more references in these songs I’m just so lazy!):

1. “Well good things don't last, and life moves so fast, I’d never ask who was better 'cause she couldn't be more different from me; happy and free in leather. And I know that you love me. You don't need to remind me. Wanna put it all behind me, but baby.” - regulus about jily getting together.

THE GREATEST:

1. “I'm trying my best to keep you satisfied.” - regulus and basically every single pureblood out there towards their parents.

2. “Let you get your rest, while I stayed up all night. And you don't wanna know how alone I've been. Let you come and go,” - regulus about Sirius after he left.

3. “Man, am I the greatest, my congratulations. All my love and patience, all my admiration. All the times I waited for you to want me naked made it all look painless. Man, am I the greatest.” - regulus about james when all he ever wanted was lily and never reg himself.

4. “And we don't have to fight when it's not worth fighting for (Fighting for).” - regulus when fighting with james about the mark he had just gotten and acknowledging that it was too late to fight about this because he already got the mark forever.

5. Basically this whole song is jegulus and the black brothers coded.

L’AMOUR DE MA VIE:

1. “But I need to confess, I told you a lie. I said you, were the love of my life. The love of my life. Did I break your heart? Did I waste your time? I tried to be there for you. Then you tried to break mine.” - regulus after lying to Barty about liking him back romantically when he in fact didn’t. Barty trying to break his heart by dating evan but it not working and resulting in Barty shattering Evan’s heart instead when he finds out it was all just to make reg jealous.

2. “It isn't asking for a lot for an apology, for making me feel like it'd kill you if I tried to leave. You said you'd never fall in love again because of me, then you moved on immediately.” - barty to regulus when asking for an apology for lying and breaking his heart and regulus just saying that he’d never fall in love after barty but then immediately moved on to james.

3. “So you found her, now go fall in love, just like we were if I ever was.” - regulus when he finds out rosekiller is a thing.

4. “Thought I was depressed or losing my mind, my stomach upset almost all of the time. But after I left, it was obvious why. Because for you, I was the love of your life, but you were not mine.” - regulus when in a relationship with barty because it was before he transitioned and it was the regulus that barty was in love with and it felt so toxic and degrading for reg because that’s not who he truly was. For barty, regulus was the love of his life, but for him barty wasn’t because he treated regulus like a girl, and he always would.

THE DINER:

STFU THIS WHOLE SONG SOUNDS LIKE ROSEKILLER WITH TOXIC + STALKER BARTY AND NORMAL EVAN WHO IS IN LOVE WITH BARTEMIUS BUT HE JUST CANT BC HES A CRIMINAL AND HES INSANE AND AS MUCH AS HE HATES IT HE KNOWS HE HAS TO CALL THE COPS AND HE CANT LIVE CALMLY BC SOMEHOW BARTY ALWAYS MANAGES TO ESCAPE AND FIND HIM AND KILL ANYONE HES SEEING OR DATING AND HES JUST GOING TO DIE ALONE BUT ALSO NOT???

BITTERSUITE:

1. “I can’t fall in love with you.” - again, regulus about barty. Lily about James, and if you wanna get really dark with it; James about Peter.

2. “'Cause I can't fall in love with you no matter how bad I want to.” - regulus with barty bc he knows barty would try his best and would understand this change but he just can’t fall in love with him!

BLUE (good god…):

1. “I try to live in black and white, but I'm so blue.” - every single fucking slytherin ever??

2. “I'd like to mean it when I say I'm over you, but that's still not true.” - this can mean so many things, it’s just all up to our imagination.

3. “I thought we were the same birds of a feather, now I'm ashamed.” - Dorcas and pandora about barty, reg, and evan because Dorcas began to work for the order and her best friends didn’t and she was ashamed, yet she thought they’d always still together and they’d choose the right path.

4. “You were born bluer than a butterfly, beautiful and so deprived of oxygen.” - pandora.

5. “Colder than your father’s eyes, he never learned to sympathize with anyone.” - barty.

6. “I don’t blame you, but I can’t change you. Don’t hate you, but we can’t save you.” - all the slytherins (JUSTICE FOR MY SLYTHERINS!!)

7. “You were born reachin’ for your mother’s hands, victim of your father’s plans to rule the world.” - regulus.

8. “Too afraid to step outside, paranoid and petrified of what you’ve heard.” - evan.

9. “But they could say the same 'bout me I sleep 'bout three hours each night means only twenty-one a week now, now.” - Dorcas about herself after leaving her friends who were her true family for nearly her whole life.

10. “And I could say the same 'bout you; born blameless, grew up famous too, just a baby born blue now, now.” - Dorcas about her friends.

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luminouslywriting · 8 months ago

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Hi, darling! Since your requests are still open, do you have any general pregnancy headcanons for Brady? The previous post got me thinking. Also, best of luck on your surgery! I know we don't know each other, but you'll be in my thoughts. ❤️

Hi darling Nonny! This was so cute and I seriously loved this one to death! I have SO MANY thoughts about Brady and babies haha. That being said, I really appreciate your wishes for luck on my surgery! I so appreciate you! Reminder that my requests are open!

More below the cut, cut for length, some light spice below:

-John Brady is a man who REALLY wants kids, has thought about it his entire life, really WANTS to be a father and to be able to love kids. And the best part of this entire situation is that he gets to do it with you, the love of his life

-That being said, I think the first baby appears without any real effort. Were the two of you even trying for a baby? Perhaps not, though with his breeding kink, you never really know lol

-So the minute that you figure out that you're pregnant, you know that it's going to be a big deal to him and that it's going to be something special

-You absolutely find a really cute and personal way to tell him....and it's through music

-One of your favorite things to do in the evenings is to play music together and to have sheet music ready to go for him

-So when the theme of the night is children's lullabies....he's absolutely picking up on the vibes there but also doesn't want to psyche himself out?? Like maybe it's just a coincidence??

-LOL NO

-And so the minute that you actually say the words, Brady is picking you up, spinning you, kissing you, exclaiming how much he loves you, pressing a kiss to your belly, and literally just beaming like a kid on Christmas day

-He already worshipped you before but this? This man is literally about to go above and beyond

-Softest pregnancy sex??? Like—HEAR ME OUT—he was already big on body worship and praise, but this first time after finding out you're pregnant?? That entire session is about YOU babe

-And when you're finally asleep? Oh, you best believe he's talking to your stomach and already dreaming about the kid

-He's literally so wholesome and expresses in abundance how much he appreciates, loves, and adores you

-Brady definitely becomes a hawk in the sense that you are not lifting anything more than five pounds exactly and anything strenuous is off the table

-You're carrying precious cargo and you already WERE precious cargo in his eyes

-He's helping way more around the house—as in, he's taking over some of the things that you usually do

-He's fully aware that you can handle doing the laundry or cooking dinner—BUT WHY SHOULD YOU HAVE TO DO IT ALONE??

-And uh....he loves coming home and dancing with you in his arms

-Literally wants to be cuddling you at all times so that he can feel the baby bump—even when the kid has not kicked yet and isn't really growing very much

-The minute that you have a baby bump?? Expect to be showered in gifts, praise, love, and body-worship yet again

-Foot massages and back massages

-And yes....he's absolutely down to help with breast pain via massages as well

-Loves bathing with you while you're pregnant

-Thinks that you're positively glowing

-Compliments you every single day

-Has already bought like—ALL the things that the baby possibly needs

-Dutifully goes with you to every single doctor's appointment, takes notes, and tries to do anything he can to help you feel better or help with things

-Has a list of names that he's trying out with the baby bump

-And when the baby kicks for the first time? Oh he absolutely breaks down in tears because he's having a baby with you and now it's real and he's a little nervous because he's messed up from the war and he's worried about how he'll be enough—

-And you're gonna have to reassure him that he's going to be an amazing dad (because obviously of course he is)

-The baby absolutely kicks more when he plays music or his instruments haha

-He's a great support system for any time that you're feeling insecure about your body, worried about the pregnancy, or just emotional and tired

-Handles your mood swings like a freakin' pro and doesn't even bat an eye (yeah that's right, Bucky Egan in the Stalag was just preparation for this)

-Pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness? Oh he's fully prepared to stay home with you all day and take off of work. He's going to braid your hair, ensure that you eat, talk to the baby and try to get them to lay off

"Be nice to your momma, she's growing you the best that she can."

-Loves to cuddle at nighttime and hold you in his arms—because he's literally holding the two things he loves most in the world

-Lowkey just really wants a daughter because he adores you so much

-Everyone in the Hundredth is NOT surprised when Brady is the first married and the first one expecting a kid....and yes, he sends out a newsletter about the pregnancy

-Pregnancy pains? He knows that orgasms are a great distraction

-And yes....that might be how labor starts because you're several days past your due date and you're both impatient and getting a little worried haha

-Is holding your hand and encouraging you through the entire labor

-And the first time that he holds that baby?? Absolutely a daughter, by the way, this man weeps and literally says so many prayers of thanks and gratitude for the baby and for you

-Honestly is a pro at handing the baby....I could continue with this forever haha

#mota #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic #mastersoftheair #masters of the air x reader #masters of the air #ladies who brady #john brady headcanons #john brady x reader #john brady fanfiction #john brady #masters of the air headcanons

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kindagayfish · 2 years ago

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Do you have any NSFW head cannons for vash? Or maybe what Vash would be like if he were to fall in love? (I am so down bad for him)

A/N: Omg thank you for being patient with how long I took with this and thank you so much for the ask! Vash is just so...so...*screams into pillow* I love him

Contains: Vash being a loveable dork, nsfw headcanons, written with afab reader in mind but nothing is ever explicitly said,

Vash Being in Love and NSFW Headcanons (below the cut!)

Depending on which Vash we are talking about (tristamp or 98) will determine how he acts with you when he’s in love but not willing to admit it.

Vash from the 98 anime is a flirt. He’s having fun without getting attached and loves to tease a bit, acting goofy to get your attention. He catches himself one day with weight behind his words as he compliments you…he also catches himself blushing when you decide to flirt back

Tristamp Vash is a bit softer, more careful. He keeps you at a distance emotionally but is still so kind and attentive. Finds himself growing protective of you under one day you smile at him after saving you and he’s just gone.

Either way he refuses to admit it for a LONG time. People around him get hurt. He’s focused on his brother. There’s just no time for romance.

But I think that’s what finally gets him, the fact that time with you is limited. It takes you a while to convince him that it’s okay to be selfish, to want love, that he deserves it.

His biggest love languages are words of affirmation and quality time...probably followed closely by physical touch.

Vash is always there to lift you up with his words, sing your praise, give you a shoulder to cry on, be a punching bag for your feelings. Whatever you need, Vash is there to provide it.

Loves to hold your hand while traveling

If you ever need his attention, just say his name sweetly, he’ll be at your side in seconds

Might teach you how to shoot if you ask nicely, although he makes you promise not to kill anyone. It brings him a bit of comfort to know you can defend yourself

You catch him staring at you all the time with literal hearts in his eyes. The first few times he gets a bit embarrassed, but after a while will shamelessly admit it

NSFW:

I feel that Vash is a switch but heavily sub leaning. Loves if you're the one calling most of the shots but has no problem flipping the script on you. Actually prefers it some nights where you either haven't seen each other in a while or he's had one too many drinks.

Pathetic, whiny, whimpering, crying, literally doing the most at every given moment.

You'll be able to pull some of those growls and deeper moans out of him though if he's feeling particularly possessive

Everything with him is so soft and sensual, trailing kisses up and down each other's bodies, whispering praises and words of devotion that only the two of you could hear

LOVES when you tug on his hair

Calls you angel, mayfly, pretty girl/boy

Loves any position where he can see your face, and so that he has the opportunity to kiss you at anytime, stealing the breath from your lips as you move your body against his.

He'll curl his body into you when he's close, panting heavily and not able to hold back his high-pitched moans. It's a pretty sight to see, his face flushed red along with his ears, eye shut and furrowed brows.

I love the idea that Vash's wings would sprout any time he is feeling extremely emotional. So of course when you're intimate there is a burst of feathers, the soft appendages acting on their own to embrace you protectively, pulling you all the more closer to him.

Boy's got hella stamina and will opt for multiple rounds. You'll have to be the one to tap out or else he literally will. not. stop. He'll let you fall asleep in his arms if you get too tired. Otherwise his favorite is when he falls asleep laying on your bare chest, your hands running through his hair.

#vash x reader #vash the stampede #trigun x reader #vash x you #trigun stampede #trigun

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cuddl3s4shur1 · 2 years ago

Text

•“𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄?“•

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐗 𝐘/𝐍 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐗 𝐘/𝐍

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐:𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎:You and hobie where dating .After one big argurment who knew that he would almost lose you and your earth...

𝐀/𝐍:I Literally love this idea so much , if the Spanish and or British slang is wrong 1. Blame google and google translate.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Angst , arguing mention of atsv characters , due to me knowing the knowledge of prowler miles age HE IS AGED UP TO 21.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲:She aware that I’m watching so she Gon put on a show -She Knows Remix by Ne-Yo

It had been 3 days since Spot had got rid of your earth for good. Before it was officially gone You and Hobie got items you loved.

You guys would get two different Flats. His would of course be right across from yours.

You and Hobie haven't really been on speaking terms due to the argument on the balcony. He has seen you around on several occasions it is obvious. Yall have the same occupation and live in the same Flat.

He try’s to see you more by playing the electric guitar late,so he can see you before he decides to go to bed . No matter how many times you complain he’s happy to see you .

Hobie happened to be on a mission while you where in your flat.

You weren’t on the mission due to you telling Miguel to remove him off of your partner list.Your Not on his partner list and he’s not yours.

When he heard the news about it he wondered why you did it. You only had one sentence on why you did it.

“To Fight My Own Battles”

He would roll his eyes at you saying his words back to him . Yes you were petty , who wouldn’t?

Right Now it was the afternoon soon it was going to become night . You where on your couch watching living single .

You hear a knock at your door . “Do I really wanna answer the door “ you question yourself.

The person beings to knock louder than the first time .

You take the blanket off your body . You walk to the door in your crop top and comfortable sweatpants.

They knock louder than they both times continue. “I’m coming ok “ you yell to them .You walk to the door , you begin to unlock the door and open it for the person. “What is it” you ask them in a unfriendly manner.

“.¿Porque estas siendo tan descarada“(Why are you being so cheeky) you friend maya asks.

“ah maya que haces aqui”(Oh, Maya, what are you doing here? )you ask her

“no puedo extrañar a mi mejor amigo”(I can’t miss my bestfriend). She asks you

“sabes que no quise decir eso entra”. (You know I didn’t mean it like that , come in) . You tell her , you open the door wide enough so she can come in .

“I know you not letting that lad take away your happiness “ she tells you .

“I’m not I just don’t wanna go out ,I still am technically taken “ you whine to her

“No excuses, bebe estas saliendo” (baby your going out ) She demands to you.

“Lemme guess your gonna rade my closet to see what you want me to wear “ you ask her

“correcta” (correct). She forces a smile and drags you to your bedroom . “I’m going to pick the outfit out because if I let you…” she shakes her head at the thought of your outfit.

“Hey I can dress! “ you tell her and laugh

“Sureeee” she says sarcastically

She begins to look through your closet , you had no idea what she was going to pick … she’s a fashion wild card .

No outfit she makes will be the same each outfit will be different.

“Ah ha “ she smiles as takes the outfit off the hanger .

“This is the … Outfit , go put it on “ she hands you the outfit- the first outfit

You go put the outfit on , you look in the mirror, it was complimenting your body and your skin. You walk out to show her the outfit.

“Oh yes , you’re wearing that , where some clear heels with that “ she smiles . You search around your room to find the heels. You find them and put the heels on . “Alright I’m finna get dressed and you can do your make up or whatever, than we leaving “ she says .

You do your makeup for a soft and natural look, you didn’t want your face to look like a whole new one . Once y put finished you looked around for a purse to match your outfit . You find the purse you where looking for . your friend is done with everything she wanted to do

Time to head out

You guys made it to the club, at first you didn't want to be there, you were only there because your friend was tired of noticing that you were slouching on the couch.

You walk around the club, chilling in the corner watching people have fun and laugh while your like “What am I doing here “ . Music starts to blast from different genres. Rnb to hip hop to afro beats back to rnb then to Latin Music.

You slowly made your way to the dance floor instead of just standing and looking like a creep. You start to dance and enjoy yourself. Many guys try to flirt with you and others are weird creeps.

The creeps take you to the bathroom, that'd when you put up a fight leaving them unconscious.

You walk out like nothing just happened

You go back to dancing catching an individual's eye. “Who's that,” he asks his friend “I don't know, it's my first time seeing her, “ they tell him.

He starts to become hesitate, did he want to say hi? Or did he wanna risk the fact of never seeing you again?

In that moment courage started to build in his body. He was going to ask you out!

He walked up to you “hola linda mami” (Hi pretty mommy ) .

She looks around trying to see who the random male was taking to :

“Estoy hablando contigo, el único bonito”(I'm talking to you , you the only pretty one) you thought the accent was cute

“Ah gracias. guapo” (Ah , thank you handsome) you respond a slight smile shows up on the face . His eyes where only on you ,

"No hay problema, mami bonita (No problem pretty mommy) He says with a wink, a slight grin shows up on your face

“Cuál es tu nombre” ( what’s your name ) he asks you

“Y/n “

“ahh bonito nombre para una chica bonita” (ahh pretty name for a pretty girl) . You smile at him

“y tu nombre” (and your name ) you ask him

“Miles “ he says

“Cute “ you tell him

“Wanna dance “ he asks you

“Why not “ you wink at him.

You guys move to the dance floor , you start to dance with him and talk . Your arms make it around his neck .

“You know I would love to , take your home or see you more “ he tells you

“I would love to also but life right now is complicated” you tell him

“What’s wrong” he asks

“Well my boyfriend, stood my family up twice and kinda disrespected me in the process “ you tell him

“Princess just know i wouldnt ever do that to you“ he says as he gives your hand a kiss.

“ i can tell “ you smirk and wink

You get a notifacation of a crime happening at a corner store.

“omg i gotta go , my friend needs me . You tell him .

“That’s um ok , my Friends are doing the same” he says , you guys both chuckle then head different ways.

“I gotta go” you give her a wink so she knows why .

You swing run to your apartment to change into your suit. You change in your suit and sling around to find the criminals.

“Not so fast ” you snatch the money out of the criminals hands. You swing back to the corner store to put the money back in store with a stick note .

“From your lovely friend-spidey” . Your spider senses start to go off as you start to draw the mini spider man . You turn around to see someone with a arrow and sleeping darts .

You start to dodge them one by one until he shoots you in the foot. “Oopsie spidey spidey “ the voice whispers to you . It tosses you over the shoulder, the person walks out leaving the note and the money.

Meanwhile with Hobie

Hobie started to head to your apartment to apologize. He brought some flowered and some chocolate. He climbed through your flats window by picking it with a lock pick .

He sits in your arm chair hoping you wake up , so he can give you the flowers and chocolate. He turns on your bedroom light to see the club outfit on the ground. Your purse was thrown on the bed and your heels where on the side .

He realized your phone was on the charger “you left your phone on the charger “ he mumbles keeping it as a mental note.

He checks your phone to see a notification from a friend saying, “be safe, text me when you get home from saving crime” she says .

Hobie became concerned and confused, what crime was she talking about.

He begin to look around the flat , maybe you where in another room. He checks all the rooms, and the nook and crannies .

You were nowhere to be found.

He takes a break in the couch searching about recent crimes that happened in the area . He found a link talking about “corner store robbery” . He clicks on the link . And scans the article with his eyes , he stops seeing the keyword “Spider” His eyes start to light up , with hope . He read the sentence in his mind

“Superhero Spider Girl , would come to the rescue and return the money “ he begins to smile at it . “ That’s my girl “ he says with a smirk .

Although he was proud you happend to get the money back , he was also worried.

He proceeded to hologram Miguel about the issue . “ Find y/n’s location “ he demanded. They started to try to find it . “We don’t have it “ he says . “Well try harder” he told him . “Look I think she’s missing so if you don’t find her , I will” he told Miguel .

Miguel started to try and find it , yet he couldn’t. Hobie hanged up the hologram. In slight anger , he felt like no one was taking it seriously.

It wasn’t like he could just go to the police and ask them to make a missing person report on you , because they would ask how do you know and what was your evidence .

He started to create a rescue plan , and a way to find the location.

Meanwhile

You wake up ,you feel the back of your body on cushion, you feel tied down . You start to wiggle your legs , chains start to rattle.

“You can stop you know, you can’t escape” The prowler says .

“Oh fr , I couldn’t tell “ you say in a sarcastic tone

“Funny , really funny “ the prowler says .

“I know I’m really good at making jokes “ you tell him .

“So what was the point of you know like , taking me “ you ask the prowler

“You have a nice bounty “ he smiles .

“ Aye “ you joke .

“Don’t you find this serious “ he asks .

“Kinda , but anyways how’s your day” you ask him

The prowler becomes confused but begins to talk about it .

“Well you know I went to the club with my friends because they basically forced me to go.But while I was their I met someone named Y/n.She is really pretty, but I might not see her again “ he told you

You started to giggle at him . “You find that funny “ he asks you . “sí, cariño” (Yes , Honey). You laugh

The prowler becomes confused “Eres tú” (it’s you ) . He questions you , you begin to chuckle .

“si cariño, soy yo” you smile , he begins to take off your spider mask. “Surprise” you say . “Ah Mami” he smiles , before clicking the mask off .

He begins to lower the punching bag and unties the chains from the back. “Hey” you smile at him . “Hey” he says to you . “Do you have like a shirt I can wear , only have the suit” you joke to him. “Don’t worry , I got you “ he smiles and winks .

You and miles head to his apartment, which is where he gives you one of his shirt . You make him turn around and leave his bedroom, while you change .

You leave his bedroom and you see him on the couch watching , Friday . You begin to watch the movie with him , you lay on his chest , he places his hand on your stomach.

“But I got you home though “

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