#Mind: stop drinking those you’re going to KILL YOURSELF

[hotchscoffeecup]

those things will kill you

pairing: javier peña x dea!reader

tags: gun violence, broken glass injury, bullet wounds, blood, no y/n

word count: 5k

summary: attacked in a public bar, javier takes you back to his apartment to get you cleaned up and tend your wounds. an almost kiss leads to an exploration of feelings neither of you were prepared for.

as always, big thanks to muffin for always being willing to help beta my fics <3

The bartender places a bottle of beer, sweaty with condensation, in front of you on the bar top.

After uttering a short thank you in Spanish, you leave a couple of bills on the counter and twist your fingers around the neck of the bottle. The beer is cold and slides down your throat easily, but it tastes bitter in your hollow stomach.

You run your tongue over your teeth and tsk, shaking your head wondering how you ended up in this mess. Everything seems like it’s going to hell in a handbasket and all the government wants to do is tie your hands and everyone else’s in the search for Escobar.

You hate how it all keeps you up at night; the cat and mouse. For every inch you eked closer, Escobar always seemed to be a mile ahead. Even when he is right under your nose, he evades capture and disappears without so much as a trace of evidence.

You think too far too deeply about Pablo Escobar and you know it affects your work. How can the same man who built homes and schools for the poor of his hometown be the same man that would blow up a city street full of school children and their families a week before school starts? The thought of it keeps you awake at night because you genuinely cannot fathom how such a disconnect can exist in the human mind. He is a drug lord. A killer. A criminal. But he was also someone’s child, someone’s husband, someone’s father. Could he really justify all of this cruelty and malice? You wonder when enough stopped being enough for him. You wonder if a reality existed where he was just that, a man of the people. A family man. In another life, maybe he could’ve actually maintained a seat in the Colombian congress. In all his posturing and speech making, he really did exude all of the makings of a good politician that wanted to see a better and more prosperous Colombia. Instead, he became that which instilled fear in the hearts of those that called the great nation their home.

The clipped click of a lighter snaps you out of your own mind and the sounds of the bar pull you out from under the sea of thoughts you’d lost yourself in.

“Real sharp instincts there,” Javier jabs as he drags on the cigarette between his lips and settles into the seat beside you. “Glad I’m not a sicario. Getting the jump on you would be all too easy now, wouldn’t it?”

“Fuck off, Peña, I’m not in the mood.”

“What happened? Get in trouble with the ambassador or something?”

You direct a hard stare in his direction and that seems to speak for itself.

“It’s an adjustment for everyone. He’s definitely more of a tight ass, but he’ll get used to the way things operate down here. Give it time.”

You scoff. “Easy for you to say. All you and Murphy have to do is posture and dick swing your way into his good graces. It’s not that easy for me.”

The bartender nears your end of the bar and inclines his head towards Javier. He gestures towards the drink in your hand with his cigarette and says, “Lo mismo, por favor.”

With a drink now in hand, he turns towards you and levels his deep brown eyes on yours.

“Cut the crap.”

Your brow arches toward your hairline. “Excuse me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle as one side of his lips quirks up. “I’m not buying this ‘I’m-a-lady-so-I-have-to-work-twice-as-hard’ bullshit. You’re a damn good agent and that’s why you’re here with me and Murphy. Ambassador knows that. So, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. Pointing the bottle at you he says, “and to be clear, I’m not swinging my dick around for anyone.” His eyes flicker over your face and a glint of mischief enters his gaze. “Unless they ask nicely of course.”

You drop your chin and shake your head. “Just when I thought you were being genuine.”

“Hey, I am genuine,” he protests. He pops the cigarette between his lips and grabs your shoulder, the warmth of his palm pressing through your jacket. “C’mon, what’s really eating you?”

You grab the bottle in front of you and swirl the pale liquid inside, forming a small tornado when you still your hand. “I just haven’t been sleeping, that’s all.”

Javier drops his hand from your shoulder to take the cigarette from his lips and blows out a puff of smoke, angling his mouth away from you but the acrid smell still manages to burn your nostrils.

“Those things will kill you, you know?”

Javier smirks and you hate how good it looks on his smug face. “We work in Bogotá. A lot of things can kill us.”

“No need to tempt fate.”

He moves from side to side as if weighing his options. “Cigarettes, alcohol, working too hard trying to prove ourselves that we don’t sleep at night…we all have our vices.” His eyes linger on yours and you suddenly feel vulnerable being called out like that.

“Consider the reasons I don’t sleep, Javi.” You drain the last of your beer and push the bottle away from you.

You press your hands against the edge of the bar, but before you can push yourself up and off of the barstool, Javier claps a hand over one of your wrists, stilling you.

“You can talk to me, you know?” The browns of his irises flicker as they bear into yours and the hollow pit in your stomach widens. You know you can talk to him. Steve too. It’s just hard to be too vulnerable down here though when there’s so much pressure coming down from all angles. If you even look like you might collapse under the weight of it all you’ll get rotated back to the States so quickly, you won’t even get the chance to say goodbye. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for you and you can’t squander it. So, it stays easy to lock it down, despite the consequences.

So, you do just that and lock it down. Forcing a smile you know doesn’t reach your eyes, you shake off his hand and zip up your jacket. “I’m fine, Peña. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He presses his lips together, but doesn’t say anything more. He nods his head in farewell and you turn to leave.

You take two steps before your name rolls off of his tongue and you roll your eyes. “Peña, I’m—” The words die on your lips as you turn, eyes drifting past Javier to the pair on the motorcycle beyond the glass window that makes up the external wall of the bar. The man on the back of the motorcycle aims an automated weapon in Javier’s direction.

“Everybody get down!” You cry out as all hell breaks loose.

You’re airborne as the glass shatters and the explosive sounds of gunfire fill the space. You collide with a thick wall of muscle and hit the ground hard, covering your head with one arm and shielding his body with the other. The gunfire stops almost as soon as it had started and the sound of tires squealing on the pavement echoes off the street.

Patrons scream and cry out as they scramble over one another to evacuate the space. You roll onto your side and groan as shards of glass cut into your arms through the thin windbreaker you have on.

“Javier,” you groan as you reach for him. He’s moving so you know he’s alive. You lean over him and his shocked visage. “Javi, are you with me?”

He blinks hard out of whatever stupor he’s in and sits bolt upright. “Which direction did they go?” He turns his head to look over his shoulder and the gaping frame where shards of glass poke out of the windowsill like jagged teeth.

“They’re gone,” you say on an exhale. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head or anything when I tackled you?”

He breathes out a short laugh and you fear he might be in shock. “Did I hit my head? No, I didn’t—” He stops and shakes his head like he’s trying to clear away a fog. His brow pinches as he looks around at the damage. Tables and chairs are upended and cast aside. Broken bottles line the floor where they shattered upon impact off the shelves behind the bar and litter the ground. You’re surprised to find that, miraculously, no bodies littered the ground in the wake of the attack.

A hand cups your chin and you reflexively reach for the gun tucked into your waistband.

Peña raises his other hand in surrender. “I think you might’ve hit yours though.” His eyes shift just above your field of vision and that’s when you feel the hot sticky substance drip down onto your lashes. You raise a hand and touch it, surprised to find a smear of red staining your fingertips when you look at them.

“I think that’s just from the glass. It’s all in my jacket.”

Javier clambers to his feet and dusts off his jeans. Bits of glass hit the floor as it rattles off of his leather jacket, a much heartier material that you wish yours had been made from.

He extends a hand towards you and you take it, wincing as he pulls you to your feet. With a grunt, you tug the zipper down and shrug out of your jacket. There’s no saving the ripped and bloodied material so you drop it on the floor.

“Fuck, you’re hit.”

The words don’t register as Javi closes the gap between the two of you and the smell of cigarettes and cologne envelops you in a strange, yet almost comforting cloud of, well, Javier.

He scrubs a hand over his face as he hesitates to touch you. You hear him muttering to himself, but the words don’t quite register. Funny how a moment ago you were worried about him going into shock.

A sharp sting of pain brings you back to your senses as Javier presses a folded up bar towel to your shoulder. “Hold pressure on that,” he instructs. He turns and reaches back to take your hand in his. “Come on, I’ll get you out of here. I need to get you taken care of.”

And that’s how you find yourself in the passenger seat of Javier Peña’s Jeep with blood seeping through a dirty bar rag onto the upholstery of his passenger seat. At some point he reaches over you and retrieves the satellite phone from within the glove box to call in the attack.

“No, Murphy. I’m fine. She’s fine. Minor wounds it seems. No—no, don’t wake Connie. I’ve got a kit at my apartment. Yes, I’ll keep an eye on her. I’ve already called the Ambassador and Martinez. Yeah, yeah. Ok, goodnight. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

By the time he pulls into his garage, the adrenaline wears off and the sharp sting of pain in your shoulder becomes glaringly obvious. Javier gets out and moves to open the door for you. He places a supporting hand under your uninjured arm as you maneuver your way out of the car in the confined space. Your body brushes against the firm plane of his as you do and you don’t miss the way he stiffens in response.

“Let’s get you inside,” he murmurs and drops his hand to the small of your back to guide you towards the door.

His apartment is simple, built in the same style as yours and Murphy’s. They all share the same furniture and simple decorations, though yours doesn’t have quite the number of liquor bottles perched on various surfaces and vaguely remember what he’d mentioned about vices at the bar. The smells strongly of him, of his earthy cologne and cigarette smoke. You’ve grown used to it from sitting across from him at work for the last six months. There’s something oddly comforting about it even though the amount he and everyone else smokes bothers you to no end.

“Why don’t you sit down?” He says, gesturing toward the couch.

You do as he suggests and sit on the couch, only on the edge though. You don’t want to ruin the upholstery like you’d done with his car. Plus, you’re fairly certain there’s still small shards of glass embedded in the skin of your back and the idea of pressing those in any further makes you queasy.

Javi disappears into the bathroom, muttering expletives under his breath in English and in Spanish. He returns with a small red first aid kit, a couple of wash clothes, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

He climbs onto the couch and perches on the back of the sofa, his legs spread on either side of your body. “Hold these,” he says, and doesn’t wait to dump the items into your lap.

With gentle hands, he peels the bar rag up and off your shoulder. “Good,” he sighs. “Bleeding’s stopped. Let’s get you out of this shirt.”

You turn your head over your shoulder to look at him from beneath an arched brow and he immediately doubles back. “So we can clean this properly and make sure there isn’t any more glass. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Funny, I thought you liked it there.” Your lips curve into a wicked smile. “I know what you meant, but it is fun to watch you squirm.”

Javier shakes his head and you turn back around to pull your tank top up and over your head. You try to do it with one arm to avoid aggravating your shoulder, but the movement jostles the joint and you hiss between your teeth. Javi catches your hand as you try to pull it over the injury and takes over guiding it up and over the wound. He discards your tank top on the ground and sucks in a breath.

“What, Jav? You see women in their bras, or without them, all the time. Relax.”

“No, it’s not that. Wait, what—”

You smirk to yourself. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s just on second thought, I think we ought to move to the kitchen. There’s more light there and there’s still some glass stuck in and around where the bullet clipped you.”

He gently lays the towel back down over the open wound on your shoulder and you follow him to the kitchen and drop your keys and gun onto the counter before perching on one of the bar stools. He kicks the nearby waste paper basket next to the empty stool beside you and arranges the first aid items onto the counter, opening the kit and withdrawing gloves, tweezers, gauze pads, and roller bandages. He zips the kit shut, determining he has everything that he needs and places it in his lap as he sits down.

A strange silence settles over the two of you as he snaps on the pair of latex gloves and sets to work. He removes the soiled rag from your shoulder and drops it into the trash. The pinch and sting of him pulling glass from within and around your injuries dulls over time and you watch as the tiny pile of red stained shards grows on the counter next to you.

“You know there wouldn’t be so much of this if you hadn’t fallen directly on top of me.”

Javier scoffs. “You’re right. Next time we’re in a firefight, I’ll let you fall on me.” The tweezers lock on to another small shard and you grimace as he pulls it free. “I think that was the last one.”

He unscrews the plastic cap from the bottle of rubbing alcohol and soaks a washcloth with it. “This is probably going to hurt worse, but we gotta get this cleaned up.”

You nod. “I know, go ahead.”

When he’s cleaning the dried blood from off and around the skin, it just grazes over small cuts and scrapes that feels more annoying than anything else. It’s when he passes over the open wound in your shoulder that a curse slips past your lips and tears well in your eyes.

“Fucking shit, that hurts.”

“I know,” Javi says apologetically. “We definitely don’t want you to get any infection though.” He swipes the cloth over the injury three more times and just when you start to wonder if he’s a sadist, he finally declares he’s finished and drops the washcloth into the trash. The cool air blowing from the nearby AC unit dries the alcohol and relieves the burning sting. He replaces it with a fresh gauze pad and holds it in place with his left hand while his right works the roller bandage into position. He works quickly and quietly as he winds it around your shoulder and bicep. After securing a knot in the bandage, he sits back and nods affirmatively, content with the job he’s done.

“Now let me see your forehead. We oughta get that cleaned up as well while I’ve got you here.”

You’d almost forgotten about the cut above your eye with the adrenaline wearing off and the pain in your shoulder growing more severe. You reach up absentmindedly and brush your fingers against the now dried and flaking blood stuck in your eyebrow. Javi spills some alcohol onto a gauze pad and your breath catches when he touches the tips of his opposite hand beneath your chin to tilt it towards the overhead light.

He swipes at the dried blood and scrubs it free from your eyebrow. When he passes over the shallow cut, you wince and he apologizes. When it’s clean, he peels open the wrapper on a butterfly bandage and uses the tips of his fingers to try to place it so it’ll pull the cut closed. A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him press his tongue to his bottom lip as his fingers tremble ever so slightly as he makes sure the small ends of the bandage don’t tear.

“There,” he whispers when he’s sure it’ll stay put. His face is so close to yours and the breath catches in your throat when his eyes drop to yours. “Just like new.”

Time slows to an absolute standstill and you feel yourself inextricably drawn to him, as if there’s some tether pulling you towards him and you really start to wonder if you did hit your head harder than you thought in the chaos because you’re pretty sure he’s also leaning in towards you, which would be crazy because he’s your coworker, but he’s also tilting his head and his face is incredibly close to yours…

Reality snaps back into place like a rubber band against skin when the first aid kit resting on his thighs clatters to the ground. You immediately pull away and drop down off of the stool to pick it up and Javier immediately chastises you doing so.

“Dammit!” He curses and your name sounds sharp on his tongue. “You’ve barely stopped bleeding, don’t jerk yourself around like that.” He snatches the first aid kit from you and splays a hand under your elbow to pull you back up to a standing position. He tosses the kit onto the counter and stalks off into the living room leaving you at the bar wondering what the hell is driving this one-eighty in behavior as he paces back and forth across the carpet.

“Damn, Peña. I’m not going to bleed out on your kitchen floor.” You smirk. “Your jeep, maybe,” you suggest, trying to make light of the sudden tension in the room.

Javier either doesn’t or chooses not to hear you. He loops his thumb through one of his belt loops as he shakes his head and mutters under his breath. “I don’t need this right now.”

Your brow pinches and you hate the heat that rushes to your cheeks. You shuffle your weight from foot to foot and suddenly feel like you’re taking up too much space in the small apartment as he increases the space between you and him. This errant behavior is giving you more whiplash than when you’d taken him to the ground and you’re about to call him out on it, when, without another word, he turns and ducks into his room.

Irritation quickly replaces whatever vulnerability you’d just been feeling. “What the hell does that mean?” You ask, your words clipped and demanding. You walk towards the sounds of him rummaging around inside drawers and come to an abrupt halt as he strides out of his bedroom and presses a ball of fabric into your chest. “This,” he says by way of explanation and takes a dramatic step away from you.

“And by this you mean what exactly?” You know exactly what the this in question is, but you want to hear him say it. Frankly, you’re just as surprised by whatever just happened between you and him, but you’ve worked with each other long enough now to know when the other is severely bullshitting their way through a situation and you have no intention of letting him get away with it.

The smell of his detergent wafts up around you from the shirt in your hands and you take the opportunity to try to awkwardly shrug into it without aggravating the freshly dressed wound. It’s hard to start an argument and be taken seriously when you’re standing toe to toe with someone and you’ve only got on jeans and a black lace bra after all.

As you fumble with the buttons on his shirt, he takes a resigned step backwards and collapses onto the couch. He gestures vaguely at the space between the two of you. His voice is softer when he speaks, tired. “All of this. God.” He runs a hand through his hair and falls back into the cushions. “You,” he says, eyes briefly meeting yours and then at the ceiling.

Your fingers pause mid-fastening. “What about me?”

Javier shakes his head. A wry smile pulls at his lips, rife with disbelief, and it fades as quickly as it comes. “You nearly died tonight.”

You arch a brow and direct a knowing look at him. “Javi, not sure if you were paying attention but we both nearly died tonight. I mean, things moved a little quickly for me to break out my calculator and add shit up, but I don’t think all 30 or 40 of those rounds were meant just for me. I think they were aimed at both DEA agents and they didn’t give a fuck who else got caught in the crossfire.”

“That’s not the point,” he responds resolutely.

“Then tell me what is.”

He doesn’t answer, but sits up and pulls the half crushed pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and slips one between his teeth. As he rolls his thumb over his lighter, you feel your already short fuse ignite. Without giving it a second thought you step forward and snatch the cigarette from between his lips.

“Hey!” He protests, nostrils flaring.

You snap the stick of tobacco in front of him and toss it to the floor. “Enough of the theaterics, Peña.” You stare directly into his eyes, refusing to let him get away with ignoring you. “Quit bullshitting me and tell me what’s really on your mind.”

The sound of the wall clock ticking fills the space and the silence is unbearable, but you refuse to be the first to break. Fifteen more uncomfortably strained seconds tick by before he drops his gaze to the floor and scrubs a hand over his face with a heavy sigh.

He slides over on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. “Sit down, will you?”

You do as he asks and situate yourself at an angle towards him with one leg pulled up across your lap.

“Here,” Javi says as he pulls a throw pillow out from behind him and wedges it gently between you and the couch. “I don’t want you to go and tear open anything I got closed.”

You huff out a quiet laugh and thank him, glancing down at his haphazardly buttoned shirt you’ve got on. You notice you’ve completely misaligned what you’d managed to fasten. Ignoring that for now, you kick at his shin and incline your head towards him. “You done with all the tough guy shit?”

Javier presses his lips together and nods. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what happened. I just—”

“Just what?”

He lifts his eyes to yours and you watch the way his coffee colored irises flicker in the lamplight. “There's just some lines you shouldn’t cross.”

“This is Bogotá,” you say, mirroring his words from earlier. “There’s a lot of lines we shouldn’t cross.”

“I’m serious,” he responds brusquely, eyes darkening as he shuts you out once more.

You sit up straighter, undeterred by his obvious attempts to push you away. “Yeah, well tough shit, so am I.”

The way he speaks your name is laced with frustration and uncertainty. He’s holding back and your own frustration mounts. You’re tired, you’re in pain, and frankly, now you’re just feeling plain stupid. You’d heard rumors of Javier’s extracurricular activities with women. Did you really want to be another notch in his bedpost?

You let out a low, wry chuckle and shake your head. “You know what, Javier?” You push yourself up and off the couch, wincing as you do so, and look down at him. “Give me a call if you figure out what side of the line you stand on.”

You turn and swiftly move towards the door, swiping your keys and gun off of the counter as you do so. You use your good arm to shove your sidearm into the back of your jeans and unlock the deadbolt on Javier’s front door.

You’ve barely pushed the door open when Javier appears at your side and yanks it closed. Before you can protest, he pushes you up against the door and presses his lips to yours in a devastatingly desperate kiss.

You can’t control the moan that rushes from your mouth into his as you kiss him back. He tastes like mint and menthols and you suddenly can’t remember why you hate the smell of cigarettes so much. The cuts along your back and shoulder blades sting as the wood rubs up against the shirt Javier gave you, but with his hands pressed against the expanse of wall on either side of your face, you decide it’s bearable.

That is until you reach up unthinkingly to tangle your hand into his hair and a sharp sting of pain reverberates from your shoulder all the way down to your fingertips.

Javi abruptly breaks off the kiss and his eyes flicker across your face, shining with concern. “Fuck, I’m sorry! I just got caught up in the moment. Did I hurt you?”

You place a placating hand against his chest and feel the erratic beating under your palm. “I’m fine, Jav. Really.”

He licks his lips and you already miss the way they felt against yours. He presses them together and nods. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo. “I guess I should head home though, get some rest. God knows the ambassador is going to want a report on all of this.”

“You got shot, the ambassador can get fucked.”

“Fucked, is what we’re both going to be if we can’t figure out who targeted us.” You sigh and shake off the thought. “I better get going. It’s late.”

Javier stops you from turning to leave. “You’re not walking home alone this late at night.”

“It’s down the street, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not walking alone.”

“Then walk me home. Your strong male aura will keep danger at a bay,” you add sarcastically.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what do you suppose I do?”

“Simple, stay here. I’ll drive you home in the morning.”

“And sit on all that blood? No thanks.”

“Okay fine, I’ll walk you home in the morning.”

You consider the implications of that and choose the safest route. “S’pose I could sleep on the couch.”

Javier shakes his head. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the fucking couch. You’ll sleep in my bed.”

“And you’ll sleep where?”

“Next to you,” he says smoothly. “If you’ll let me.”

You arch a brow. “And we’ll just…sleep?”

Javi shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and shrugs his shoulders, his smile smug. “Tonight, yes.” He steps forward and takes a hand from his pocket to cup your face gently in his wide palm. He places a tender kiss upon your lips. “Tomorrow night might be a different story.”

“I think I’d be quite interested in reading that,” you respond playfully.

“It’s different than what I’m used to,” Javier says and then adds, “but I think change might not be a bad thing.”

You give him a once over and nod. “I think you’re right about that.”

He smiles, somewhat sheepishly, as he says, “I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

The corner of your mouth quirks as you shrug your good shoulder. “I’m not sorry I pushed your buttons like that. It’s about time you open up and actually let yourself feel your feelings.”

He rubs his thumb across your bottom lip and then drops his hand to curve around your hip and rest on the small of your back. “Let’s get some sleep, huh?”

And that’s how you find yourself lying in bed next to Javier Peña of all people, wearing his shirt to sleep while he snores softly beside you; and you can’t help but wonder how many things had to happen for you to end up here at this moment. His arm drapes over your waist, pulling you in against the steady warmth of his skin and you find that you quite like the way you fit so perfectly against the crook of his body.

In the comfort of his arms, you drift off into an uninterrupted sleep and for the first time since you can’t remember when you don’t dream of Pablo Escobar.

[brainddeadd]

Falling for You Was Never Part of the Plan

Felix had never been one to get caught up in the drama of his feelings. He was usually calm, collected, and focused—traits he prided himself on. But there was something about you, Chan's little sister, that made everything he’d worked hard to maintain come undone. It was inevitable, really, and as much as he hated it, he knew deep down that the heart couldn't be controlled, no matter how hard he tried.

Every time you flashed that infectious smile at him, something inside him stirred. Your laughter had a way of filling the room, making everything brighter. The way you were so effortlessly kind to everyone around you made Felix admire you even more, even if he didn’t want to admit it. But he couldn’t. Not to you, not to anyone. And definitely not to Chan.

Chan. His best friend. The person who’d been like a brother to him for years. The person who had raised an eyebrow the first time Felix and you had spent time together. Felix didn’t need to see the subtle shifts in his gaze to know that Chan wasn’t stupid. He saw things, even if he never mentioned them. And that was the last thing Felix wanted to deal with.

So, he kept his distance.

When you’d show up at the studio or hang around during practice, Felix would act like he didn’t notice the way your eyes lingered on him, or how your voice seemed to soften whenever you spoke to him. He was careful. Too careful, even.

But the more he resisted, the harder it became to stay away.

“Felix,” you called out one afternoon, a hint of excitement in your voice as you approached him during a break. “Want to grab some coffee?”

Felix froze for a moment, trying to play it cool. He always played it cool around you. “Uh… sure. I’m down,” he replied, trying not to sound too eager. But inside, his heart was racing. The thought of being alone with you made him nervous, but he pushed those feelings aside.

As you two made your way to the nearby café, he couldn’t help but notice how you effortlessly carried yourself, the way your lighthearted conversation made him forget about the weight of the world for a few moments. He should’ve known better than to put himself in this position. Chan wouldn’t approve.

But you were so easy to talk to. So genuine. You always knew exactly how to make him laugh, or how to bring up something interesting to distract him when his mind started to wander.

“So,” you said, sipping your drink and casually leaning against the table, “when are you going to admit that you have a crush on me?”

Felix’s eyes widened, and he choked on his sip of water. “What?” He tried to play it off, but his voice betrayed him. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You smiled knowingly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, come on, Felix. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. You can’t fool me.”

Felix’s heart hammered in his chest. He had been so careful—hadn’t he? He tried to control his reactions, keep everything locked up tight, but it was like you saw right through him. “You’re imagining things,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m just looking out for you. You know, Chan’s sister.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re only being nice to me because you’re scared of Chan?”

Felix opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Damn it. You were too perceptive, and the truth was, that was exactly why he’d been avoiding you. Chan would kill him if he knew.

But then you surprised him. You reached over and gently placed your hand on his, your expression softening. “Felix, I know you care about me. And honestly, I care about you too. You don’t have to hide it.”

Felix froze, his heart skipping a beat at your touch. He could feel the warmth of your skin against his, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop moving. You were close. Too close.

“I… I can’t,” he whispered, his voice low, his mind racing. He pulled his hand back quickly, swallowing hard. “I can’t risk losing Chan as a friend.”

You let out a soft sigh, leaning back in your seat. “I get it. I don’t want to make things complicated either. But I’m not a little girl, Felix. I’m not going to tell Chan, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just… I can’t help how I feel.”

Felix felt like the air was sucked out of the room. You were looking at him so earnestly, and for a moment, all he could think about was how it felt to be close to you. To hold your gaze. To wish he didn’t have to fight this so hard.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Felix said, voice barely above a whisper. “I really don’t.”

You smiled, this time more gently than before. “You won’t.”

---

Felix didn’t know how much longer he could keep up this charade. It wasn’t just that he cared about you; it was that he was starting to fall in love with you, whether he liked it or not.

And somewhere deep down, he knew that no matter how hard he fought it, no matter how many times he tried to push you away, he was already in too deep.

The truth was, it was inevitable. Felix had fallen in love with Bang Chan’s little sister. And no amount of denying it could change that.

[hmsdoodlin]

(97) Soul might get in trouble for this

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ “i can’t…” prompts 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ “i can’t believe you lied to me.”

²⁾ “i can’t do this anymore.”

³⁾ “i can’t talk about it. i want to, please believe me, but i’m just not ready.”

⁴⁾ “i can’t sleep. mind if i join you?”

⁵⁾ “i can’t stay with [name] when i still have these feelings for you.”

⁶⁾ “i can’t wrap my mind around why it happened.”

⁷⁾ “i can’t be the only one who sees how she looks at you.”

⁸⁾ “i can’t keep putting you in danger! being with me isn’t worth your life- you must realise that!”

⁹⁾ “i can’t find it in myself to care anymore.”

¹⁰⁾ “i can’t watch.”

¹¹⁾ “i can’t stand by and look on while you keep putting yourself through this.”

¹²⁾ “i can’t keep this from them and you knew that when you told me!”

¹³⁾ “i can’t stop seeing it. every time i close my eyes it’s like i’m right back there, reliving it over and over with no way to change the outcome.”

¹⁴⁾ “i can’t believe you remembered.”

¹⁵⁾ “i can’t face them on my own- please come with me.”

¹⁶⁾ “i can’t be with you like that. not anymore.”

¹⁷⁾ “i can’t tell you how much i appreciate this.”

¹⁸⁾ “i can’t break the lock! how are we going to get out of here?!”

¹⁹⁾ “i can’t stand him. please bail me out of this, i’ll owe you forever.”

²⁰⁾ “i can’t shake the feeling that something bad’s about to happen.”

²¹⁾ “i can’t keep lying to everyone… it’s killing me.”

²²⁾ “i can’t possibly ever tell you just how much i adore you, but i’ll damn well spend the rest of our lives trying to.”

²³⁾ “i can’t bear that prick.”

²⁴⁾ “i can’t believe you drinking straight bourbon in a paddling pool isn’t the weirdest thing i’ve seen this morning.”

²⁵⁾ “i can’t get to you, and neither can the team. you’re- you’re gonna have to make it out of there on your own, kid.”

²⁶⁾ “i can’t get passed over for this promotion again, not after working myself like a goddamn dog to see it happen.”

²⁷⁾ “i can’t be expected to feign interest in a conversation whilst you look as good as this, now can i?”

²⁸⁾ “i can’t walk in there dressed like this- in your clothes!”

²⁹⁾ “i can’t shake the feeling that something bad’s about to happen.”

³⁰⁾ “i can’t believe a bullet wound still isn’t enough to get you to lay off those stupid pickup lines.”

[shxuga]

Whispers of the Deep II | Twisted Wonderland

Jade × Floyd Leech x Female!Reader | Pirate AU | Part I

You shouldn't be so surprised by your captain’s and crewmates' reactions.

But damn it! It was more disappointing than you expected.

When you stumbled back onto the Rosehearts (which, honestly, had seen better days—the battle had left the poor ship riddled with holes, creaking painfully whenever someone stepped too hard on the bow or stern), you were greeted in a way only those who spend every hour of every day together can appreciate:

“You’re still alive?! Whatever, let’s celebrate!”

You needed a decent meal and lots of water to feel like yourself again after that month. But of course, Ace wouldn’t let you go without downing several rounds of beer in your honor first. Deuce was easily dragged along by the others, and Cater didn’t hesitate to join the impromptu party held that night at the bay.

It took you hours to track down your captain and Mr. Trey, ready to deliver a detailed report and reveal the truth behind your absence. Most of the crew gathered as witnesses, not quite drunk enough to miss the big revelation.

“Mermaids… No, mermen. I encountered mermen.” You revealed it with your usual seriousness, though your expression betrayed a flicker of determination.

A wave of drunken laughter greeted you after a moment of tense silence. Even Cater, the one responsible for spreading all those wild tales, couldn’t hold back his loud, stomach-clutching laughter as he pounded on the poor rookie seated next to him.

“Maybe you hallucinated? You know, that happens when you barely eat or drink at sea,” Trey said gently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You kept a blank expression as you watched the rest of the idiots who refused to stop laughing at you.

“She probably drank too much seawater!” Ace chirped between fits of laughter, setting off another round of shrieks and amused exclamations from the others.

You were tempted to use the knife you’d taken from Floyd after cutting off his scale and slice his tongue, but your captain intervened faster.

“In any case,” he said firmly, his tone silencing the laughter instantly as he shot everyone a warning look, “it’s good to see you’re well. For now, get some rest.”

And as much as you were tempted to press the issue and prove your words true, you were exhausted. You needed to sleep for at least two days. After that, you’d think about your next move and stop ignoring the tingling that surged through your body every time you glanced at the scale.

• • •

You recovered quickly. It was to be expected; despite your encounter with those two furious eels, they hadn’t done more damage than a couple of scratches on your side. However, there was an uncomfortable feeling inside you that, somehow, made it seem like it was slowly killing you.

As planned, two days after eating and sleeping well, you stormed into your captain’s cabin and presented your strongest evidence as a last resort:

The scale.

“You’re saying... this black stone is the scale of a merman?” he raised an eyebrow. You blinked like an owl, and Trey, behind you, struggled to stifle a laugh.

It was true your eye was damaged, you couldn’t deny that, but the bluish-green glow surrounding the scale every time you pulled it from your pocket was as obvious as the fact that the sky was blue and the sea salty. Just in case, you took the appendage between your fingers and held it close to your eye, stunned, ignoring how your captain’s confused look quickly turned to impatience. The lieutenant behind you stopped laughing to try and rescue you before it was too late.

“A black stone... you say?”

“Get out of here.”

You couldn’t argue. Trey kicked you out of the cabin before you could even notice your mistake.

Frankly, you were anxious. You would have preferred to bury this incident deep in your mind and continue with your chaotic life, treating it like a bad dream or something. But that damn scale was a reminder that it had all been real—very real. You tried every possible way to get rid of it: you threw it into the sea, buried it in the sand, tossed it into a bonfire, and even placed it on one of Cater’s plates, watching as he swallowed it.

But somehow, it always returned to the same spot.

By the third day, the anxiety had crawled into your insides. It slithered through them, like the skilled hand of a butcher slicing and cutting its prey. You couldn’t look at the sea without that nagging feeling that the pair would emerge from its depths, dragging you down, picking at your mind. You were tense, paranoid at the constant splashes and loud noises filling the ship now that it was under repair. According to Ace, the most experienced carpenter, it would take a whole month to restore the Rosehearts to its former glory.

You decided to distance yourself from the ship and the sea by heading to the village. You hadn’t stepped foot there since you reunited with your crewmates, but now that you were more alert, you noticed a lot of things: mermaids were a recurring topic on this coast. The fantasy of beautiful, half-fish beings was a common theme for anyone with a sea-bound lifestyle... but in this village, mermaids, mermen, and magic were deeply rooted in its very DNA. The cane and wooden houses were adorned with somewhat rudimentary illustrations of these creatures, there were many street vendors on the ground, inviting you to buy trinkets they claimed to have stolen from the very kingdom of Atlantis. Tragic songs, fantastic tales, the clinking of coins, and distant conversations made up the chaotic center of the village. Even in your illiteracy, you recognized how words like “mermaid,” “song,” and “sea” were the most recurring on every corner you passed.

You moved away from the bustle and crowds, with the persistent feeling that you wouldn’t find what you were looking for there. You didn’t know what possessed you to sneak through alleys you had never seen, feeling the wind, smelling of salt, whispering your name, and the scale in your pocket beating with its own pulse. Almost at the edge of the village, you came across a shop that looked... curious. On a small dock that the owner had probably built himself (because the structure didn’t look all that safe), stood a gloomy cabin, with moss, barnacles, and salt stains on the parts closest to the sea. There was a sign above a door made of threads, beads, and seashells, but due to your condition, you didn’t even try to understand what the twisted letters on it could mean.

“This is not a good idea...”

Even so, your feet made their way through the damp, creaking wood. The beads on the door tinkled, announcing your entrance. The smell of rancid fish filled your nostrils as you glanced around the place, keeping your guard up and your good eye scanning the area with suspicion. Moss and pieces of coral were scattered everywhere, the windows were sealed with dark tarps, and the only thing that had prevented you from tripping over the many shelves full of marine trash around you was the dim light of dark candles. The place looked just like the description of a witch or shaman’s house, with all those jars filled with eyes and viscera around you. And right in the center of it all, a large, dark, worn-out cauldron bubbled with a suspicious concoction. Out of curiosity, you shortened the distance between you and the cauldron, drawn by the things floating in the thick, bubbling liquid.

Ugh... it smells like the captain's food.

"It’s been a long time." A voice echoed from within the walls, startling you.

You turned towards the voice’s origin, but saw no one. You looked back at the cauldron, tense. Then, a figure appeared. It was hard to tell if it was a man or a woman, but there was one thing clear: they were beautiful. Their pale skin glowed with a sickly green hue from the soup in the cauldron, their eyes were crescent moons that seemed to contain the very ocean, with all its shades of blue dancing in their sockets, surrounded by thick lashes and laughter. Their hair was something you’d never seen before; it shone like silver, and even though they wore a dark, tattered tunic in a place that stank of fish, you were sure that beautiful, soft hair smelled incredible. As a final touch, those ethereal, flawless features had a pretty mole painted beneath their lip.

You stared, stunned, as the owner of the place sprinkled spices into the cauldron, causing a soft explosion to rise from it.

"Has it been a long time since you had visitors...?"

"It’s been a long time since someone with a scale visits my shop." He looked at you, unperturbed. "Please, have a seat."

His voice was rich and polite, but with a hint of authority. Before you could respond, a chair appeared behind you, and you fell into it.

A hand extended over the cauldron, cutting through the hazy veil that created amorphous shapes of bone-white. Feeling as though you might find the answers to questions you hadn’t even known you had, you obeyed. Taking the appendage from your pocket, you extended it towards them. He took it carefully, bringing it to his face with a solemn and analytical expression.

"Can you see it? When I tried to show it to someone else..."

"They told you it was a stone." You nodded slowly, confused.

"Only those who have formed a bond with a mermaid or triton can recognize a true scale."

"Bond? I didn’t do anything like that, I just defended myself!"

"Your blood and his touched the scale." He replied with boredom. "Whether you like it or not, your life and his are now one."

The chill still hadn’t left your bones when the stranger closed their fingers around the scale. He moved it slowly between his hands, as though examining a rare jewel, and his gaze seemed to shine brighter with each turn.

You couldn’t hold back the question that burned on your tongue.

"Who are you?"

The stranger looked up, and for the first time, they gave you something resembling a smile, though their lips barely curled.

"Azul" He answered in a soft, yet firm voice. His tone had the certainty of someone who knew his name meant far more than it seemed.

Azul. You couldn’t deny that the name suited him like a glove. It was a name as cold and distant as the depths of the sea, but it also had something hypnotic, almost comforting. As if you had heard it before, in a dream you couldn’t quite remember.

"How do you know all this?" You asked with suspicion, your good eye narrowing as you crossed your arms.

Azul didn’t answer right away. He just stared at you, with an unsettling patience. Then, slowly, he placed the scale on the edge of the cauldron, where it began to glow with a pale light that almost seemed to breathe.

"The seas speak." He murmured, not taking his eyes off you "And you, pirate, are now part of their stories."

A different chill ran down your spine. It felt as though an invisible layer that had protected you from the world had been stripped away, and Azul seemed to see it all. As if he knew every detail, even the ones you yourself could barely understand.

"How long has it been since your encounter with the triton?" He asked, his voice serene, but with a hint of urgency that wasn’t there before.

"Three days" You answered, feeling a pang of anxiety as you said it aloud.

Azul tensed for just a moment, but it was enough for you to notice. His eyes, those moons full of ocean, narrowed as he exhaled slowly, as if calculating something.

"Three days... " Azul repeated quietly, as if the number confirmed bad news. He stepped closer to you, so quietly that you barely heard his footsteps. "That’s more time than it should have been."

"What do you mean?" You inquired, trying not to sound as frightened as you felt.

"The bond you’ve created isn’t something you can ignore." He explained, his tone growing graver with every word. "You and the triton are now connected. Separated for too long, both of you... will die."

The words fell like stones in your stomach. You didn’t know whether to laugh, scream, or just run out of that cabin, filled with salt and secrets.

"What kind of joke is this? I didn’t even want that bond!"

"That doesn't matter" Azul replied, looking at you with a mix of compassion and harshness ". What matters is that now, your fate is tied to theirs. If you don’t find them soon, both of you will begin to crumble from within."

The scale, still at the edge of the cauldron, seemed to glow more intensely, as if responding to their words. Your heart pounded, a restless drumbeat in the silence that followed. The creaking of the wood beneath your boots and the salty smell that filled the cabin became even more oppressive after what Azul had said. Death, binding, a shared fate with a creature you barely knew. It wasn’t what you had imagined when you tore that scale from the merman.

Azul took a step back, his eyes fixed on you, as if analyzing every thought crossing your mind.

"How... how do I find them?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"You must go to the farthest beach of the village" He said finally, his voice barely a murmur, blending with the wind outside the cabin ". At midnight. Bring offerings."

You frowned, crossing your arms. The memory of their laughter, the burning sensation of your lungs filling with the sea, and all the desperation you had to fight in your first encounter with those deadly creatures, brought bitterness to your chest.

"Offerings? For the merman who tried to kill me?" You retorted incredulously. "I don’t think he deserves anything."

Azul tilted his head as if considering your comment a mere distraction.

"They’re curious by nature. It wasn’t personal. " he said, shrugging.

The furrow between your brows deepened, you had the impulse to stand up but felt an invisible force holding you back.

"Curious?! No one kills out of curiosity!"

For a moment, something dark passed through Azul’s eyes, a flash of something deep and ancient. When he spoke again, his voice was louder, sharper. You could feel his hostility reverberating through every piece of wood in that cabin. For a brief moment, you saw a shadow full of writhing tentacles projected on his back.

"That’s exactly what humans do. With everything they don’t understand..."

The reproach in his words hit you like a cold wave. Your mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. It lingered in the air, along with that uncomfortable truth you didn’t have the courage to face. Azul, however, didn’t wait for you to find your response. He took another step closer, his presence filled with an unsettling calm.

"Bring trinkets" he suggested, as if nothing had happened ". Simple things. Utensils, maybe rings or necklaces. They don’t understand human value, but they’re fascinated by shiny things. And if that’s not enough, sing. They’re drawn to music."

You bit your lip, still uncertain, but something in his gaze made you relent. With an exasperated sigh, you nodded slowly.

"This is crazy..."

Azul didn’t respond, simply extending his hand toward you, returning the scale. But now it was tied to a fine, sturdy string, turning it into a necklace that seemed to pulse gently against your skin when you took it. The light from the scale glowed with a faint radiance, almost as if being in contact with you once more brought it back to life.

"Put it on." Azul ordered.

"What?" you asked, looking at the scale as if it were burning your fingers.

"Don’t even think about getting rid of it again" He warned, his tone darker than ever ". If you do, the consequences will be severe."

The threat was clear, and though you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t make much sense. Slowly, you put the necklace on. The scale rested cold against your clavicle, but a strange sense of warmth flooded you moments later.

• • •

It was crazy.

Since you fell into the sea a month ago, nothing had gone the way you wanted. And now you were here, taking trinkets from the ship you called home, dragging a sack like a thief in the middle of the night. Carefully, you managed to reach the beach without waking anyone. It would be a tragedy if they caught you stealing... no matter how useless your loot seemed.

Armed only with an old oil lamp and your trusty knife at your side, you walked along the beach, dragging the sack. You walked for a while, until the Rosehearts, the port, and the village became a distant blur.

You followed Azul's words and made sure to place your offerings very close to where the sea licked your boots with each small wave. You didn't consider yourself someone with exquisite taste, but at least you had enough skill to arrange the cheap trinkets, cups, and cutlery in a way that looked somewhat aesthetic. As a final touch, you placed the hat you stole from Ace, as a kind of personal revenge after he kept mocking you about the whole mermaid thing.

And you waited.

You didn't indulge in the luxury of relaxing by sitting in the sand; your body remained alert. Even though Azul had said that your life and Floyd's were now linked, you didn’t trust that would save you from injury. You had already witnessed his strength and skill underwater, and you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Minutes passed, and your unease grew.

"Where the hell are they...?"

If Floyd’s life was as much at risk as yours, shouldn’t he be just as anxious to find you?

“And if that’s not enough, sing. They’re attracted to music.”

Azul’s words hit you like a bucket of cold water. You remembered how, that night, only after singing did the creatures deign to appear.

"Damn it..." you muttered, swallowing your pride before beginning to sing.

You weren’t a terrible singer, but you weren’t particularly good either. Besides, you were too tense, and your voice came out stiff and somewhat off-key. However, it improved a little when you decided to hum the parts of My Jolly Sailor Bold that you didn’t remember, following the rhythm of the gentle waves. Too focused on your task, your eyes fixed on the bright moon above your head, you didn’t notice the olive glow starting to emerge slowly in the distance. You cut yourself off abruptly, just a couple of verses from finishing the song, startled by the splashing of the sea, now dangerously close to you.

The splashing grew more insistent, as if the waves themselves were trying to warn you of what was approaching. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, remembering Azul’s words, but that didn’t stop your fingers from tightening around the knife handle at your side. The olive glow split into two figures, and before you could fully prepare yourself, they emerged: Jade and Floyd.

Water dripped from their scales, gleaming under the moonlight. Both of their eyes fixed on you, glowing as if they could read every thought you tried to keep hidden. Floyd smiled first, crawling through the wet sand with a grin that seemed more like a threat than a greeting. You stepped back, not even thinking about whether they might take it as an offense.

"Look, Jade... The human came back. And she even brought us gifts." Floyd made a careless gesture toward the trinkets scattered on the sand, but his eyes never stopped evaluating you.

Jade, however, remained silent, studying you with his characteristic air of calculated calm. His gaze, however, was sharper than any weapon you could wield.

"That seems to be the case, Floyd. Though I wonder... with what intentions?" His voice was soft but left no room for misinterpretation.

Your throat went dry. Despite the tension, you lifted your chin, refusing to show weakness. Azul had warned you that confidence would be crucial.

"I'm not here to fight. Or to rip off any more scales." You let the knife fall to the ground, as a gesture of goodwill. The dry sound it made on the sand was louder than you expected.

Floyd tilted his head, amused.

"Not even a little bit? You sure?" He gave a couple of flaps, bringing him dangerously close to where you stood. You could feel the weight of his presence, every muscle tense beneath the water.

"Floyd." Jade's warning was subtle but effective. His brother stepped back, though the grin never left his face.

You took a deep breath, feeling how, with their presence, something inside you loosened. Not entirely, but enough. As if that constant tension, that invisible knot that had followed you since that night at sea, started to dissolve. You hadn’t realized how heavy it had been until now. Azul was right, being away from him was killing you.

"I brought something... that I think you might like." You gestured toward the small improvised altar in front of them. Your voice didn’t tremble, and that was an achievement in itself, but the real relief was in your chest, less tight, as if, at least for now, you could allow yourself to breathe.

Floyd looked at the trinkets with an amused expression, while Jade, more contained, scanned each item carefully.

"And what's this supposed to be?" Floyd asked, a flash of amusement in his eyes. "A bribe?"

"An offering." You clarified, keeping your gaze fixed on both of them. You weren’t going to back down. "The least I could do to have this conversation without ripping each other's heads off."

The sound of the sea mixed with the crunch of your boots on the wet sand. You realized you no longer felt the same weight on your shoulders; dealing with them, although clearly dangerous, felt less exhausting than carrying all this uncertainty alone.

Jade let out a slight sigh, as if measuring your words.

"Why now? You could have hidden and waited for it all to blow over." His tone was soft, but the words were sharp. An implicit challenge.

"Because it’s not going to blow over..." You crossed your arms, feeling an unusual calm. It wasn’t resignation, but a kind of acceptance that allowed you to speak without haste, without the urgency that had accompanied you in the past weeks. "This bond, or whatever it is we have, isn’t going to disappear on its own. In fact, it could have killed us. Besides, I don’t think any of us wants to share our fate with someone we barely know."

The mocking spark in Floyd’s eyes faded, replaced by a shadow of seriousness.

"Share fate?" He repeated, his voice lower. "That sounds poetic."

"It sounds like a nightmare." You corrected him, without altering your tone. Your body was no longer on guard; the feeling of danger persisted, but the mental burden had lightened. "That’s why I’m here. I want to find a way to break it. Without killing anyone."

Jade and Floyd exchanged a look. It was as if they communicated in a silent language, one you couldn’t understand, but their conclusion was clear when Jade spoke.

"And what do you propose?"

"Each of us looks for a solution. I in the human world; you, in the sea." You paused, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence. "We’ll meet here every two days. We share what we find. No tricks, no games. Only results."

Floyd raised an eyebrow, his smile returning slowly.

"And if we find something before you?"

"Then we discuss it." You made an effort to keep your posture relaxed, even though your mind was already planning every possible scenario. "But again: no tricks."

"We need to set rules, then." Jade slightly tilted his head, evaluating you. "The first: no lying. If you do, the deal is off."

You nodded.

"The second: don’t bring anyone else. No humans, no unexpected allies." The weight of his words hit you. They knew about your crew; that feeling of the sea watching you wasn’t just a feeling... it was a truth.

You paused a second longer than necessary, but then nodded again.

"And the last..." Floyd took a step forward, lowering his tone, as if confiding a secret. "If we find a solution without you, don’t expect us to give it to you gently."

"I’m not here for pleasantries." Your words came out softer than you expected. It wasn’t defiance, but certainty. "I’m here to fix this. Period."

The wind blew, and for the first time in days, you didn’t feel like it was ripping something from you. The weight in your mind was real, but less oppressive, as if by sharing this burden with them, even temporarily, the path had become less lonely.

"Two days." Jade turned, disappearing into the water like an elegant shadow. Floyd followed, but stopped just before diving in, throwing you one last smile.

"Don’t be late, little shrimp."

And with one last splash, he was gone.

You stood there, looking at the horizon, breathing in the salty air. For the first time in a long time, the silence didn’t feel like a threat.

Tag list: @valentinaagarcia

[aka-indulgence]

Thoughts? Thoughts you said? Dealer thoughts? 👀 pls?

YES THANK YOU FOR ASKING HHH

(CW: portrayal of gun and violence + random character’s death)

He seems like a guy with a twisted taste for entertainment. Obviously he doesn’t care for human life, regularly dealing with people who gamble their lives for money (or not), you wouldn’t think he’d care about… anyone.

But he cares about you.

He would’ve just finished his last game for the night. The player died on the last round, no defibrillators or blood transfusions left, transported to the dealer’s version of the afterlife. He had 2 defibrillator charges left. He’s been shot about 7 times, but he’s not dead, just on the brink of death- another weekend night for him. He’s not in the mood to die tonight, is all, and he makes his way down to the club where the music blares, the lights are flashing neon colors and the air smells like booze and smoke.

He’s delighted to see you- he’s favorite server in the club. People quickly move away from him- even club regulars who’ve seen his face- are still unnerved by the large man(?) with the crooked teeth and hollow eyes. And even if his face didn’t scare them the shotgun slung over his back certainly would. His delight soon sours when he sees you’re not alone at the bar. Why are you sitting there in the first place? Looks like one of the club-goers caught you, having pulled you to the seat beside him. He’s uncomfortable close, leaning into your space. That alone is enough for him to reach for his shotgun. But even worse…

While you’re distracted, the guy putting his hand on your lap (something the dealer already wants to shoot him for,) the guy reaches over to your drink… and slips some powder into it.

He’s going to have his face blown off.

He crosses the floor, disregarding the club goers and knocking them down like bowling pins.

As you’re being pressured to have a drink (“hey c’mon babe, I went and bought it for you…”), a large arm slams heavily next to you on the bar, calloused hand gripping the glass so hard it’s shaking. The guy jumps back, having seen the face of horror just above your head.

“Hey angel, mind if I have this?” He says, voice strained. He doesn’t wait for an answer. He proceeds to pick up the glass as if to drink, but shatters it against the bar instead.

People stop dancing. The music is still going.

“Hey w-what the hell man?!” the guy stares at the Dealer, as if he didn’t know what he was just doing.

The Dealer shuts him up real quick when he cocks his shotgun. He’s holding the shotgun in front of you, with his arms boxing you in.

“You look familiar. Never seen you upstairs though. Too bad, you didn’t even get to play one round.”

“You should look away, angel.”

Those were the only warnings before a BLAM suddenly rang out, red splattered all over the bar and the floor- and the guy no longer has a face.

Everyone’s screaming, scrambling out of the club. You’re also screaming, but the Dealer can’t help but smile. You were shaking and pushed back into his chest, trying physically distancing yourself from the body.

Just as satisfying as killing the player after a round of double or nothing.

[luza-wayne]

bf gyuutarou headcanons.

gyuutarou x reader

i miss my man, can't get him out of my mind

bf gyuutarou! is the type to be always onto whatever you're doing, may it be running an errand or just random walks

bf gyuutarou! who forces his sister to keep an eye on you through her obi whenever he goes to his ‘sleeping’ period

bf gyuutarou! who takes you different places, lets you sit comfortably on the rooftop, then steals some snacks and drinks from nearby stalls for you while he goes on another killing spree

bf gyuutarou! who makes sure to go back without a speck of blood on him, because he doesn’t want to ruin your appetite by his gruesome state, so he ate the rest there and  just took some hands and feet so it wouldn’t be messy

bf gyuutarou! who would eat human remains beside you as you eat your human food, while gazing at the people below

bf gyuutarou! will be the type to always butt in everytime you and daki gossips and whenever you tell him to get out of the room, he’ll laugh annoyingly while he walk to the window to leave and stay of the rooftop, still listening to your voice

bf gyuutarou! who knows that despite his little sister’s fondness for you, she will always tell him whoever bad-mouths you from what he heard from her obis all throughout the entertainment district

you who is aware that your bf gyuutarou! is the reason why people who you fight with goes missing or dies the next day, but you couldn’t care less because you liked how people are now distancing themselves from you and leaving you alone

bf gyuutarou! is the type to disturb your sleep just to annoy you, but will flip out when you do the same (he threatens to feed you to other demon knowing he gets crazy even when a random demon breathes in a five kilometers (3.1 mi) radius)

bf gyuutarou! who is super possessive, bordering obsessive (he already crossed the line a long time ago, you’re just in denial), started taking money from some of the patrons, so he could give it to you, just so you would stop working and interact with other people except from him and his sister

bf gyuutarou! who gets pissed when you’re mad at him, so he had to make it up to you pretty fast because he know that when you’re angry at him, you distance yourself and he hates that, he hates not knowing what you’re doing, hates when you’re out of his sight, hates that he can’t hold you, hates that other men could interact with you during those time of separation

bf gyuutarou! who gives you everything you want as soon as it falls out of your lips no matter how absurd it is

bf gyuutarou! who lets you decorate his ribbons and drawings, so sometimes he fight with beautified weapon which throws out some of his opponent at times

bf gyuutarou! who doesn’t sleep, yet lays beside you whenever you’re going to sleep, using his arm as pillows and his hand possessively resting on your waist or bum

bf gyuutarou! who wakes you up by pinching your nose then laughs when you smack his chest, but quickly makes it up to you by giving you your ‘good morning kiss’.

hope you enjoyed that one, as much as i did. reblogs would be much appreciated!

if you'd like to support me, you can tip me at my ko-fi acc! thank you very much!

[slasherstories123]

Hii!! I Hope this isn’t asking too much but do you know if you could write about the reader giving rz Michael a bubble bath in like those claw foot baths where his knees would be sticking out, and he would have a pile of soap suds on top of his head and he would be entertained by a little rubber ducky as we wash him with those big yellow sponges? If you can’t that’s completely ok and don’t worry about it!! It would just be a cute fluffy moment between the 2!

Bath time

RZ!Michael Myers x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags list: @dootys @callmemeelah @mehidktbh @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby

You slowly blinked while staring ahead at the alarm clock. It was close to midnight and your killer boyfriend haven’t came back yet and it’s nearly been three hours. It wasn’t like you could do anything, you wouldn’t know where to look if you wanted to do a search to find him. The more time he was gone, the more your mind started to wander and think the worst case scenarios. You shook your head to make them stop but they kept coming, making you sit up straight to walk around.

What if he finally got caught…or worse…did someone finally manage to kill him? Is he gone for good..?

“Don’t be ridiculous.” you said to yourself while trying to get something to drink. “This is Michael we’re talking about, he’s strong enough to handle himself.”

Yet the thought still lingered, he’d always come home badly injured and each time it made you worry that one day he won’t come back for good. People can put up a good fight when it comes to him and it shows from him having scratch marks to literally stab wounds and glass shards in his skin. You poured water in your cup, the thoughts still consuming your brain. A low creak of the wooden floor made you flinch, realizing you overfilled your cup of water and it spilled on the counter. Cursing to yourself as you quickly tried to clean it up and looked where the creak came from.

Michael stood by the couch and you had a hand over your pounding heart at the sight of him, turning on the kitchen light to get a better look at him. Luckily there wasn’t any blood..at least that was his…

His outfit was mainly covered in dirt, you sighed in relief which made him tilt his head at you. “You gave me quite the scare Mike.. but you gotta get out of those close if you want me to wash them. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to sleep with a mud stain on my bed. I can start a bath while you change.” You didn’t care about the glass of water and ran upstairs to get the bath ready, making sure it was warm but was still a little hot, making sure it had lots of soap for him to try and relax in. When you turned around Michael stood at the bathroom doorway. You really didn’t want to tell him to take off his mask but you had to in order for you to wash his hair as well.

“Okay another thing… you’re gonna have to take off your mask,” you saw him let out a deep breath. “Wait wait, you can still wear your paper mache one, I just want to wash your hair as well.” You held your hands up in defense, slowly sliding beside him before leaving the bathroom to go and get one of the old one he made that nearly resembled a pumpkin face with black scribbles. Giving it to him and giving him the privacy he needed. “If you need anything, or need help just knock okay?” Michael nodded, you went back downstairs to try and drink the glass of water now knowing that he’s okay.

I wonder if he got hurt, there wasn’t any blood seeping through his clothes it was only the blood of his victims, even if that was the case it’s not like he’s gonna go out of his way to show me I’d have to catch him or pay close attention, he didn’t look injured though.

You heard three knocks, chugging the rest of your water before sprinting upstairs, skipping every two steps to reach to the top faster, hoping he had on the paper mache mask, opening the cracked door to see Michael in the tub. He had his hands on his knees while his knees stuck out of the tub, a yellow rubber ducky floated through the water each time he moved. You forgot that was there.

“Is everything alright?” You asked pointing at him.

He nodded. Pointing at his body and hair.

“You..want me to wash you up?”

He nodded again.

With a tap of your fingers against the wall it took you a moment to remover where you put those large sponges, rushing back downstairs for the third time and grabbing a random cup and large sponge. Coming back up with a small huff from the constant back and forth, still standing and let the sponge absorb some water before pressing down on the bottle of foam soap. Washing up his upper body gently to make sure the soap spread everywhere. Sometimes he’d poke the duck or would squeeze it to make the water come out. You smiled at him being entertained by it. “Alright you gotta wash your lower body, let me know when you’re done I’m gonna put your clothes in the washer.”

He took the sponge silently, you gathered the muddy and dirty clothes and put them in the washer, nearly slamming the washer shut. You then went to your small closet and grabbed a large towel to put in the dryer so it can be warm for him when he comes out. You rubbed your tired yes before going to your room closer,looking for a certain pair of pajamas you bought for him to sleep in, it was hard to find the right size since you couldn’t take him shopping, your best guess was to estimate by the way his clothes looked on him, hoping they weren’t that big on him once he tried them on.

You grabbed the light blue two piece pajamas for him and stood by the bathroom until he knocked again. The three knocks came back and you came in. Wondering how you were going to wash his hair with the paper mache mask in his face. You put down the pajamas.

“Okay.. I’m gonna need you to tilt your head back so the mask won’t get wet.” His hair got dirtier every time you saw it, he desperately needed it washed. You were surprised it was still growing since he didn’t take care of it. Pouring a cup of water over his hair until it was wet and squeezed some shampoo in your hands, massaging his scalp and made sure every last strand of his hair was lathered in shampoo.

You payed attention to his body language since talking was something he never did, his tense form relaxed the more you massaged his scalp with gentle scratches of your fingers the hold on his leg loosened and you cosine sworn you heard him let out a deep sigh. After a few pours, he didn’t have anymore shampoo in his hair. You patted his shoulder to signal you were done, gently gathering his hair to ring out the access water in his hair. “Alright.. I did my part, you can rinse off or stay for as long as you’d like as long as you don’t get my floors wet. Your clothes are on the slink along with a towel. You rushed to get his towel out the dryer, placing it next to his clothing before finally laying down in your bed.

Plopping down on your back, your eyes began to droop needlessly, all that running back and forth made you exhausted along with you staying up waiting for Michael to come home. You didn’t regret it, but now that he was safe in your home, you can relax in peace. You didn’t know how long you managed to sleep before feeling a dip on the other side of the bed.

You sleepily turned your head to Michael who was staring at you through the mask. Having in the pajamas you provided for him. His hair was damp, seeing that he dried it with the towel instead of leaving it a dripping mess to make your sheets wet. You held your hand out with another tired yawn. Eyes not being able to stay open and sleep wanted to overtake you, but you’d like to see him before you go back to sleep. You turned your body so your face him as well. Michaels large hand took yours in a tight squeeze, you didn’t have the energy to tell him to be more gentle, instead, the tight hold made you feel at ease knowing he was there with you . Closing your eyes with a soft, “Good night, Michael.”

A rough grunt was your response, it was the last thing you heard before falling back asleep.

[dfortrafalgar]

Catch Up

Law x Fem Reader

You might have met your soulmate while intoxicated, making out with him in a dark broom closet. But the only thing you left with was his first name.

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!, reader is meant to be over 21, bar crawl setting and responsible alcohol consumption

--

A/N- I'm still (still!) working on requests, and posting un-posted fics from my google drive in the meantime. I'm hoping to have my inbox open once again at the end of the month, or perhaps early June, now that my work/life balance is adjusting properly since starting my new job! I'm really sorry to those who have been hoping for consistent fics from me, i really wish i could write as much as i was recently but i'm still trying really hard!

[Also posted on AO3]

Chapter 1

[Next]

It was hard to convince yourself that you weren’t just the slightest bit tipsy as you kept your head lowered and channeled all of your focus into making sure your feet walked in a linear path.  How many bars had you gone to again?  Four?  Five, maybe?  Your body swayed slightly with your gait as your mind scrambled to catch up with the last drink that you had.  It was only a cocktail, as all your other drinks from your bar crawl were.  Was it mango-flavored?  What street were you even on now?  You blindly followed the two women in front of you whose voices were gleefully mocking the words you had said some hours before the sun had gone down.

“‘I’m not a lightweight, never have been!’” chided Ikkaku, eyes crinkled in a smile as she poked fun at your previous confident statement.  She tossed a glance over her shoulder where you walked only a few steps behind.

“I’m not a lightweight!  My voice isn’t even slurring yet!” you fought back, increasing your speed to keep pace with your best friends.

“And what was the last drink you had?” Nami asked, pulling her phone out of her bra to check her map.

“A mango margarita,” you confirmed.  “With a little lime wedge and a mint leaf for a garnish.  The place was called Elgia Lounge and it was on–”

“Okay, okay, you’re not drunk!  We surrender!” laughed Ikkaku.  “I’m glad you’re not, though, because this next place apparently has some of the best pineapple daiquiris in the entire city.”

Your mouth started watering immediately at the thought.  You were always a sucker for sweet cocktails, arguably some of the most dangerous drinks due to the way the tangy, sour mixers completely blocked the taste of any alcohol added.  Sometimes, it was impossible to tell if there even was alcohol in the glass, but with the way you walked, there was obviously more than enough from your previous locations.  You hadn’t quite passed the threshold into drunk territory yet, but the image of a sweet and tart pineapple daiquiri might just be the thing to completely inebriate you.

Nami stopped dead in her tracks and looked towards the congested buildings immediately to your right side, scanning the signposts in the dark and looking for a specific one.  Tucked in between two sports bars, with absolutely zero signage on the graffiti-covered door, the red-head nodded her head toward the unmarked entrance.  “This is it.”

“Nami, you’re going to get us killed,” Ikkaku murmured, eyes squinting at the door to spot any indication that this was indeed a speakeasy and not a hidden trap house.  

“Am not, I swear this is the place!”

The three of you approached the steel door, Nami confidently being the one to ring the doorbell that was attached to a small intercom system.  It took a few breathless moments of mild worry before a voice filled with static came through the speaker.

“Password?”

You and Ikkaku were both blindsided as Nami crossed her arms over her chest and loudly proclaimed, “Suck my big, fat cock.”

Another few seconds of silence followed before the lock on the door clicked open and the same voice from before spoke, “Come in.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered in shock.

“Told you it was legit!” Nami chided with a giggle.

“A place that makes you say, ‘Suck my big, fat cock,’ as a password doesn’t seem very legit to me, but I’ll take your word for it,” Ikkaku mused as she followed Nami through the door and down a flight of stairs only illuminated with blue and pink fluorescent lights.

Graffiti completely covered the entire interior of the stairwell, leaving no part of concrete untouched from colorful ink.  Even the ceiling above you was marked in elaborate, incomprehensible swirls and zags of paint of all different colors, made even more colorful in the odd lighting.  The stairwell seemed to last forever as you followed your two friends down into the underground, clutching the steel railing for dear life as your tipsy vertigo fought with your ability to walk down a flight of steps.  You finally reached the bottom to another door, this time lined with a soft, cushiony leather fabric.  Nami pulled open the door and greeted a black-clad man standing in the small room directly behind it.

“IDs,” he grumbled.  Straight to the point.

The three of you fumbled through your purses for your driver’s licenses before handing each of them over to the man for a review.  He clicked on a pocket flashlight, scanning each card, handing them back to you with a hum.  “Enjoy the night, ladies.”  His large hand pushed open another door that was hidden in the wall itself.

The room that was opened to you was unlike any of the other bars you had entered, both during your current crawl and in your entire adult life previous.  The room was cloaked in a sexy blue and pink lighting, decorative art of pin-up models framed on the walls along with retro-inspired neon signs and liquor branding.  Groups of people filled the tables nearby, laughing and drinking through the booming music that flowed freely through the space.  It was crowded, almost overwhelmingly so, but you squeezed close to Ikkaku’s back as you pushed your way through the other patrons to get to the bar.  Your hand accidentally grabbed Ikkaku’s ass as her shoulder bumped into your breast, both of you wheezing out surprised laughter.

You popped through the stream of people to the bar which was, unsurprisingly, completely filled with every seat taken.  Two men worked tirelessly behind the counter, filling shakers with liquor and mixers, bitters and juices.  A bin of assorted fruits sat open in front of patrons, allowing the bartenders to grab their garnishes quickly and decorate their glasses with expert precision before passing them off to elated, tipsy customers.  You, Nami, and Ikkaku squeezed yourselves into the far corner of the bar, between the counter and a booth of patrons.  

“At least we can stand here!  It’s a bit crowded but it’ll do for now,” the red-head yelled through the shaking stereo that sat nearby.  

One of the two bartenders waved his hand in the air to attract your attention.  Long, spikey auburn hair framed a sharp face and crooked nose.  You were confused at the angular sunglasses that covered his eyes, but paid no mind in the end.  His voice cut through the music, but was clearly worn after a long night of screaming at people because of the volume.  “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Nami handed the man her credit card, explaining that she was going to close out after one drink for each of them, which he gladly accepted and placed in a secure box by the register.  Your eyes frantically scanned the illuminated menu above the bar, the raunchy, debauched names of the signature cocktails revealing absolutely nothing about their ingredients.  

“What the hell is a ‘Fuck Me Sideways?’” you shouted towards your friends.  

The man behind the counter cackled.  “That’s a pineapple daiquiri!  It’s sour as fuck, hence the name!”

Your mind flashed back to your conversation from the street, mouth once again salivating at the thought of the tangy, delicious concoction.  “I’ll get that please!”

The man memorized your three orders and immediately got to work.  You watched idly as he nudged his coworker’s shoulder and alerted him of the order so he could help with making your drinks.  It was then that your eyes trailed to said coworker.

All sound in the room faded into a muffled nothingness as your eyes narrowed on the other bartender, pupils dilating.  Toned, tanned arms and hands were littered in elaborate, grungy tattoos, and you could tell with the way his worn t-shirt dipped below his collarbones that he had another large piece on his chest, defining his pectorals even from beneath his clothing.  His jawline was sharp, a small goatee defining his chin, black sideburns framing his perfect face as intense, golden eyes focused on his work.   His tongue poked out from his thick lips slightly, revealing a tiny glimpse of a stud pierced through the muscle, and giving his intimidating appearance a sudden adorable qualm as long, deft fingers poured shots of liquor into his metal shaker cup.

You barely noticed the fingers snapping in your face.

“Hey, Earth to Apollo!  Can you read me?” Ikkaku hollered directly in your ear, shaking you out of your trance.

You jumped in surprise, music fading back into your consciousness as the sound of Nami’s laughter brought you firmly back to reality.

“Looks like someone’s got the hots for the emo bartender over there!” sang the red-head, leaning against the wall and making a very lewd gesture with her hands.

You grumbled.  “Do not!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Ikkaku chuckled in response.  “He is pretty cute… if you don’t make a move I might.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you growled, making your best friends roar in laughter.  A rush of blood filled your face with an embarrassed heat.  “He probably already has a partner, a guy as hot as him can’t possibly be single.”

“There’s only one way to find that out, and it’s to talk to him,” lectured Nami.  “Come on, you’re on a bar crawl, you’re drunk, you’re hot, your pants make your ass look fucking amazing.  I would look the other way if you dragged that hunk to the bathrooms.”

“Nami!  Shut up!” you screamed, thoroughly embarrassed now.  It’s not like anyone could hear your conversation amongst the intense volume of the room, but the subject matter still made you flush from your tailbone to the crown of your head.

The conversation dissipated into enthusiasm about the location, the three of you taking note of the sex-positive decor and how good the playlist was.  Every once in a while, your eyes would dart back to the raven-haired man with his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he filtered a cocktail through the metal strainer and into a slim, iced glass.  He reached forward into his box of garnishes, procuring a thin lime wedge and expertly slicing it down the middle to perch it on the rim of the glass.  As you were staring at him, his eyes darted up directly meeting yours.  Your face flushed red hot with embarrassment, but before you could yank your gaze away, he flashed you a grin that had your legs quivering.  He held up the drink.  It was your’s.

You pulled away from Nami and Ikkaku who hardly noticed your movement as you approached the bar and reached between two peoples’ shoulders to grab your cocktail from the man who kept his deep, golden eyes on your form the entire time.  An elated, cold sweat ran up your spine and you flashed him as good of a smile as you could through your ceaseless embarrassment that he had caught you staring.

Once the drink was in your hands, he tossed you a wink.

You hobbled back toward Nami and Ikkaku who were already holding their own orders, sipping idly through their conversation.

“You look like you got spooked by a ghost or something!” giggled Ikkaku, squeezing your left cheek with her fingers.

“Ikka, that hot emo bartender gave her her daiquiri!” Nami replied for you, making the curly-haired girl gasp in excitement.

“Did he say anything?  Did you say anything?”  The questions rolled off of her tongue faster than your heart rate.

“He just winked at me, and smiled, I guess,” you stated through nervous breaths.  

Your best friends dragged you into the conversation that had developed in the short time you were away getting your drink, but when you tossed another glance over your shoulder, you once again locked with golden eyes that froze your feet to the ground.

—

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed over all, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour.  You and your friends finished your drinks, closed out your tab, and proceeded to the dance floor to burn off energy under the neon disco lights and pounding music.  You let your mind stray away from the bartender’s piercing glare while you moved your hips against Nami’s, the two of you poking fun at Ikkaku from afar as she found herself in an awkward dance with a random man who was far from her type (that is to say: not a woman).  The room was dipping slightly around you, the sweet pineapple daiquiri definitely making you tipsier than you wanted to be.  You didn’t have to pee at that moment, but you figured it would be worth a shot to sober you up even just slightly.  With a nudge against Nami’s shoulder, you pointed to the bathroom, mouthing your intentions, and waved to her as you walked toward the back of the room through the sea of happy, alcohol-fueled patrons.

The bathroom was situated behind the bar past a few rows of small booth tables, and the further you walked from the center of the lounge the more the music faded to a much more tolerable volume.  The walls remained lined with graffiti, which you trailed with your eyes as you walked, marveling at the tantalizing swirls of colors and personalized messages and names memorialized forever on the concrete.  You finally rounded the corner into the small corridor where the two single bathrooms were found, along with a single broom closet that was kept closed with a padlock.  Your feet blindly led you towards one of the bathroom doors that was cracked open.

“You know, those pants make your ass look phenomenal.”

A husky voice stopped you in your tracks.  A million thoughts rushed through your mind within an instant.  Who was talking to you?  Did you get followed to the bathroom?  Were you being watched?  Were you in danger?  Should you have brought your purse with you instead of leaving it with Nami?  Were you going to make a run for it?

Fighting against your flight, you turned around to face the voice that cut through the muffled music.

Intense, golden eyes, raven-black hair, and a sly, toothy smirk.

“Sorry if I scared you, I promise I didn’t follow you back here,” he added, his face morphing from a flirtatious, mischievous expression into a more apologetic one.  “I had to take a piss, too.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, really!” you replied, inwardly wincing at how your voice involuntarily quivered with excited anxiety.  The Hot Emo Bartender was standing in front of you.  Had he just complimented your ass?  “And, uhm, thank you!  For my ass.  I mean, for saying I look good.  Or, phenomenal, I think?”  You pinched your lips shut forcing yourself to cease your drunken rambling, but your reaction only made the man’s mouth curl into a grin as a laugh bubbled out of his throat.

“Go sober up in there, princess, then we’ll talk.  I’ll wait for you out here.”  The man ended his sentence by entering the second unoccupied bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

You quickly did the same.  The bathroom had the exact same aesthetic and lighting as the rest of the establishment, the mirror completely covered in graffiti and leaving little room to view your current appearance after you finished your business.  You gazed through the dried ink, fixing your hair with your fingers and pushing your boobs into place under your top, blowing an encouraging huff out of your mouth before washing your hands, drying them, and exiting the bathroom into the corridor once more.

The man had indeed waited for you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with one leg up checking his phone.  He was tall, much taller than you, and his legs were long and skinny, complemented beautifully by his tight, bespeckled jeans.  The spots were definitely an odd aesthetic choice in your mind, but you couldn’t complain.  Somehow, they suited his vibe perfectly.  He picked his head up and looked you up and down, that charming, mischievous grin once again returning to his lips.

“Feel better?”

“Absolutely, I didn’t think you’d actually wait out here,” you confirmed.  Somehow, your voice had evened out from the anxious drunken stupor you sported before.  Maybe pissing out the alcohol did have its merits.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you but needed to see if you were too drunk first.  Those pineapple daiquiris are really something,” he explained.

You were very quickly gaining more comfort in his presence, isolated from the club beyond the corridor in the dim lighting that accentuated his cheekbones and gave him the sexiest aura you had ever seen.  You swallowed your pounding heart and returned his grin.

“Talk to me?  Out of everyone here?” you questioned, putting on your charm.

“I don’t just talk to any random bar patron,” he responded.  “In fact, I barely talk to anyone here at all.  But how could I pass up such an alluring face?”  He stepped across the corridor to you, reaching out a hand that smelled like the generic brand soap in the bathroom.  His callouses tickled the fine hairs of your cheek and chin.

“And ass?” you asked innocently, clearly enjoying the little game you two had initiated.

“And ass,” he repeated.  “Though…” his eyes trailed up and down your body from his closer angle, eating you up through your clothes.  “You’re definitely the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen, all around.”  His golden eyes met yours once more.  “You have beautiful eyes.”

He had done it now.  You were beyond flustered, convinced that your entire body was glowing red and steaming like a geyser from your anticipation and embarrassment at his tender compliments.  A part of you still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t the type to talk up every woman at the bar, but Nami’s words from prior bounced through your skull.  You were drunk, you were hot, and damn it, your pants did make your ass look good!  You only live once, right?

With alcohol and adrenaline fueled courage you never experienced before, you closed the narrow gap between your bodies and pressed your lips against his, standing on your toes and grasping his shoulders to steady yourself.  The anxious voice in your head told you he was going to push you away, call you some horrible slur and leave you in the dust to regret every choice you made leading up to that moment.

You were very pleasantly surprised when his lanky arms looped around your waist, clutching you close to his sturdy form as he moved his lips against yours.  You weren’t an expert kisser by any means, but something about the way his mouth moved told you that he wasn’t actually used to doing this, more of a smooth-talker than a do-er.  He was reluctant to open his mouth to allocate for your tongue, instead simply pursing and unpursing his lips against yours.  The feeling made you pull away, failing to suppress the giggle that followed.

Before you had the chance to make any snide, lighthearted comment, however, a tattooed hand traveled down your arm and gripped your hand, dragging you toward the broom closet.  He fiddled with the padlock on the door without letting you go, shoving open the entrance with his shoulder and pulling you inside.  The door slammed behind you, now almost completely muffling the music blaring from within the club.  The two of you were now free from prying eyes that might wander into the corridor to use the bathroom, completely unaware of the actions taking place just one door away.

In the stark darkness of the closet, the man’s hands found the collar of your shirt and pulled it down as best as he could, encouraging you to slip your arms out and pull it over your head.  His lips pecked at your jaw, your chin, your neck, and the dip of your breast as you unhooked your bra and let it flop to the floor.  Your own hands grasped his ratty t-shirt and yanked it over his head, its loose fit making undressing his torso much easier.  Your fingers now had access to his bare skin, your breath hitching in your throat as you blindly felt around firm abdominal muscles that met a lean yet supple chest and broad shoulders.  Even through the lack of light you could tell just how attractive this man was.  A smattering of coarse hairs covered his chest and stomach, but for the most part he was well trimmed, save for the patch of hair that you felt at his naval.  You heard his breath catch in his throat as your fingers followed the dip of his pelvic bone and trailed along the belt of his jeans.

“Wait,” his airy voice muttered.  “I need to know your name.”

You laughed, divulging your information.  You felt his lips smile against the skin of your neck.

“I’m Law,” he added.

“Law…” you exhaled his name on your soft, aroused breath.  “Can you fuck me, Law?”

A low groan rumbled through Law’s throat as his hands now played at your own waistband.  “Anything for you, princess.”

[endereies]

Reader has been playing hard to get but then he stops chasing and she wonders if she played too hard to get

HARD TO GET - CS

No Nut November - Day 25

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ After months of playing Chris, he had enough

Denial

That’s all it ever was. God, it hurt the pair of you, but it was too addictive not to let go just yet. The feeling of being wanted but it was ever so slightly out of reach.

You and Chris had been an angelic pair, a match made in heaven. Anyone on the street thought you two were a couple, the hand-held touch was sign no.1. He wanted you so badly, and he had you. Almost.

He often found himself waking up besides you, wondering how even the sleep couldn’t tousle your beauty. He savoured those moments because it wasn’t long before your fists pushed back his chest, his heart further away from you. The day went as normal after that, except he couldn’t ignore the skipped heart beats.

He often found himself viewing your body wrapped in his fabric from his closet. It wasn’t anything special, just an old hoodie he thrifted a while ago. But it was his favourite, not because the material was soothing on his skin, but because you borrowed it the most.

He often found himself staring at you, normally while you did makeup before a party. Even though he didn’t take long to get ready, he was guaranteed to do it before you even started. That way he could admire the techniques of your makeup as you taught him the names of each product. He never understood how holding your mouth open helped mascara apply better but who was he to judge.

From an outside perspective? They were perfect for each other. From an inside perspective? It was complicated. He spent countless times with you in his arms after a fight with your parents only for you to continuously act like it didn’t happen. He couldn’t do it like you could. So he waited like a desperate and lonely puppy.

He was addicted to your affection towards him, and it would kill him when you pushed him away. There were nights where he would stay up all night, wondering what he had done wrong to receive you’re short and cold attitude. He missed having you in his arms, talking about anything that comes to mind. He missed your beautiful laughing and smiles, those things always brightened his day.

He promised himself that he wouldn’t get caught up in this feeling but once the infatuation seeped through, he never planned on making it stop. He desperately waited for the day where you would come to him, begging for him to hold you in his arms again. Wanting him to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you lay in his lap, and gently runs his hand on your hair and face while you stare at each other. He craved those moments, and he hated that you stopped that. What was he doing wrong? Why didn’t you crave his touch, or love like he did. Why did you act like nothing ever mattered…

The truth was that you did, badly. You had this perfect situation planted in your head. You’d push yourself close to him, tangled in the lie of ‘friendship’ taunting him. In your head it was a build up to eventually make Chris tell you how he felt. It was stupid, like a poorly written novel that had a script. A script that couldn’t be moulded into the already written fate lines. You couldn’t change a script that was already published.

Several months had gone by with no progress.

Parties were often a place of relaxation, the stench of alcohol on everyone’s lips. Not yours, you knew better. So did Chris. He didn’t another sign of familiarity between you two. He knew them all like the back of his hand.

The whole room had started to reek now with a mixture of drugs as the air grew thick. That’s when you covered up with Chris’ jumper once more, his smell was comfortable to breathe in, lighter. You’d been sipping mindlessly on a mocktail or two before Chris sauntered through the door to the kitchen. You felt your heart hitch and you had to drag your gaze to your drink, swirling the straw lazily. You knew what had been happening recently. You weren’t a fool. It was obvious the way Chris looked at you. You’d forced yourself away in hopes of making yourself more desired, in hopes he’d make the first move.

He wasn’t stupid. He saw the batted eyelashes and twisted words; he hated how sweet your voice was to him. It was the same as always, playing into his feelings, a taste of what he wanted before you got drunk and ran off with another guy. When that happened once more that night, he could’ve sworn he felt a heart string snap in his chest, his jaw gritting. The red solo cup in his palm quickly contained a shot of whiskey before it slammed on the bar table.

When you found your number blocked by Chris the next morning, you were positive it was the hangover playing tricks on you. He wouldn’t block you, he couldn’t block you.

‘contact me when you know how you feel about me.’

‘I cant play your stupid game anymore.’

‘cya kid’

Fuck. Maybe it was one time too many.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckers @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[kinzhae]

Hi hiiii! Okay so... I'm not quite sure if you accept like request and all but i enjoyed your vlog so much cause been craving for Gojo angst that hurts my heart and i love it 😭😭

And i have this idea... You know Toga Himiko right? So like i have this idea in mind where Gojo neglected the reader, like the bully fic you made? And so, in the end Gojo was like dyin (In his teens where he still didn't know RCT). Reader having the same power as Toga Himiko so yeah you know what happens next.

That episode ached my heart so much that i cried and i kinda wanna see it in Gojo x reader part. You don't have to make it just sayin my idea and all 😅

Omgg hello, you are actually the first person who requested to write something so ofc I will do it. I didnt continue watching MHA after season 2 so I might not capture Toga Himiko's quirk that well </3 but I still tried and hoping you will like it.

Note: it ended with a slight angst.

Past Wound That Will Never Change

The world had always been cruel to those who were different, and you learned that lesson early. Your cursed technique was rare, one that made people uneasy. By consuming the blood of others, you could take on their appearance and, to a degree, their abilities. It was powerful, yes, but it was also isolating. People whispered behind your back, called you a parasite, and avoided you like a curse waiting to manifest.

Gojo Satoru, of course, had been the worst of them all.

He wasn’t just cruel; he was relentless. With his unmatched abilities and natural charisma, he had no reason to think twice about how his words or actions might hurt you. To him, you were a joke, a walking anomaly he could poke fun at when life at Jujutsu High grew dull.

“You ever think about how creepy you are?” he’d say, his friends laughing along. “Like, do you just look at someone and think, ‘Wow, I wanna drink their blood’? That’s disgusting, man.”

The words stung every time. You tried to fight back, to pretend his insults didn’t matter, but he had a way of cutting deeper than anyone else. The more you tried to stand your ground, the more he mocked you.

“You’re not even a real sorcerer,” he said once, his voice dripping with disdain. “You just leech off of everyone else. What’s the point of keeping you around?”

No one defended you. Geto sometimes gave you a pitying glance, but even he didn’t dare go against Gojo. They were close friends after all. You were utterly alone, and every day felt like a battle you were losing.

It all came to a head during a mission gone wrong. You’d been sent out with Gojo and another student to exorcise a particularly nasty curse. Things had been going well until Gojo, confident as ever, underestimated the enemy. The curse turned its attention on you, nearly killing you in the process. You barely managed to survive, but when the dust settled, Gojo shrugged it off like it was nothing.

“You’re fine,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Stop being so dramatic.”

That was the moment something inside you broke. That night, you packed your things and left Jujutsu High without a word. If they thought you were a parasite, then so be it. You would survive on your own terms, far away from their judgmental eyes.

---

Years passed, and you became someone entirely different. The pain of your past hardened into a cold resolve. You used your cursed technique without restraint, earning a reputation as a rogue sorcerer. People feared you, and for the first time in your life, you felt powerful. You no longer cared about proving yourself to anyone. You lived by your own rules, taking what you needed and leaving destruction in your wake.

But fate had a twisted sense of humor.

You found him in the ruins of a cursed battlefield, slumped against a crumbling wall, his once-pristine uniform soaked with blood. Gojo Satoru, the untouchable, was dying.

He looked up at you with bleary eyes, his usual confidence replaced by something fragile.

“Figures,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “Of all people… it had to be you.”

You stared at him, your emotions a tangled mess of anger, bitterness, and something you didn’t want to name. He looked so different now—vulnerable in a way you’d never imagined. For a brief moment, you considered leaving him there. It would be poetic, wouldn’t it? Letting him die alone, just like he’d left you to fend for yourself all those years ago.

But you couldn’t do it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said coldly, kneeling beside him. “I’m not doing this for you.

He didn’t respond, too weak to argue. His blood pooled around him, staining the ground a deep crimson. You bit into your hand, drawing your own blood, and then leaned down to press your lips to his wound. The metallic taste filled your mouth as your cursed technique activated, his power flooding into you.

It was overwhelming. For a brief moment, you were the strongest, the infinite possibilities of his Limitless technique unfurling in your mind. You used it to heal his wounds, channeling his power with a precision that surprised even you. When it was done, you pulled away, wiping your mouth as you staggered to your feet.

Gojo sat up slowly, testing his limbs. He looked at you, his expression unreadable.

“You saved me,” he said quietly.

“Don’t read into it,” you snapped. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

He frowned, guilt flickering across his face. “Why? After everything I—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice sharp. “You don’t get to apologize. Not after what you did.”

He fell silent, his usual arrogance nowhere to be found. For once, he looked small, almost fragile.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was a fool back then. I didn’t—”

“Stop,” you said, your tone icy. “I don’t want your apology. I don’t need it. Just live with it, Gojo. Live with what you did.”

You turned and walked away, leaving him sitting there, his words hanging in the air. He didn’t try to stop you. He didn’t call after you. He simply watched as you disappeared into the distance, the weight of his guilt settling over him like a shroud.

---

Gojo recovered, but the encounter haunted him. He searched for you, hoping for a chance to make amends, but you were always one step ahead, always out of reach. The guilt of what he had done to you lingered, a constant reminder of his failures. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t fix what he had broken.

You, on the other hand, continued to live on your own terms. Saving him hadn’t changed anything. It hadn’t softened the bitterness in your heart or erased the scars he left behind. You didn’t forgive him, and you didn’t need to.

In the end, the past was a wound neither of you could heal. He was left to carry the weight of his guilt, while you carried the scars of his cruelty.

[boundbyeclipse]

Smut prompt #2 with Kirk IM BEGGING YIU IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES

your touch, i crave

genre : smut

word count : 1479

tags : rob and james included in the plot, dom!kirk, loud!reader, a bit of fingering, no protection, semi-public sex (if that counts?)

from the prompt list : 2. “quiet, baby, the others will hear”

You were never quiet when it came to making love with Kirk. It didn’t matter if he went slow or fast, he always made you feel good and hit the right spot nevertheless. He loved the way you sounded when those sinful moans slipped past your lips, it was his favorite sound in the world. Of course, along with the sound of his greeny. He loved his guitar. But the way his name came out of your mouth in a sinful melody had him weak in the knees. Kirk absolutely loved hearing that.

You found yourself drifting away with these thoughts, completely forgetting about the fact that James and Rob were right in front of you, talking while they wrote lyrics down in the notebook. They quickly noticed you were spaced out, waving hands in the air to bring you back to reality.

“Hello?? Earth calling over here” Rob leaned in closer, scanning your perfectly still face. James let out a small laugh, noticing how big your eyes were.

“Oh, she’s out” he commented, but right then, you blinked and returned.

“Shit” you mumbled, shaking your head side to side, “sorry, I zoned out a bit”

“And what made you fall into another dimension?” James asked, closing his notebook and placing it aside on the table.

“Uhhh,” you froze for a moment, “nothing too important”

Both males hummed in response, exchanging looks and shrugging at each other. You most definitely were not going to tell them you were thinking about having sex with Kirk. Knowing you won’t be home alone tonight since you’re having a friendly gathering, made you think about how to possibly shoo the lust away. Because obviously, you craved Kirk after a week of no physical contact because they were doing interviews. And why did this happen right when you had no privacy? Why did you have to think about your husband fucking you into oblivion exactly when others were home?

“Hey, guys, I got this” Kirk came back from the kitchen, bringing some cola over.

“Exactly what I needed to cool off” Rob said, taking the can from Kirk’s hands.

“Think that’ll help with writing?” Kirk asked, looking at James. He nodded in response, opening up the drink. You glanced over at the curlyhead, giving him a soft smile.

“I have an idea, actually” you said.

Kirk sat next to you, his hand resting on your thigh.

“Yeah?”

“How about we both watch a movie tonight? A horror movie. I haven’t watched Friday the 13th for ages”

Kirk stopped to think for a moment, giving a nod of approval.

“Sure thing. What about the boys?”

You nudged him on the shoulder, speaking through your teeth quietly.

“It’s supposed to be a date”

Rob and James laughed in sync, almost as if they were twins. You could only roll your eyes at them, hating the fact that they were probably thinking some silly stuff. Come on, it’s a date night. You need some time as a couple.

A few hours later after dinner, you and Kirk said your goodnights to the guys and headed to your room. Getting under cozy blankets, you cuddled up to your man, listening to his heartbeat as your head laid atop his chest.

His hand innocently rubbed your leg as you had it thrown over his body, reminding you about the same things that you thought of earlier. The need was only growing stronger and you weren’t sure what to do about it. If by any chance he wanted it too, there was no way you could hold back your moans.

But as if he could read your mind, Kirk slid his hand up to squeeze your ass, causing you to bite your lower lip. You needed him so damn much it was killing you inside.

“Babe?” he called.

“Mhm?” you looked up at him, staring at his lips for a moment before meeting his brown eyes again.

“I cannot concentrate on the movie. I’ve missed you way too damn much”

You cleared your throat.

“But… But the boys are home. I have missed you too, though. Been thinking about all kinds of crap while you were gone”

He snickered, slipping his hand under your loose shirt, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin ever so gently. Goosebumps covered your body in response to his touch, and heat began to rise in between your thighs.

“Oh yeah? And what did you think about?”

“You…” you whispered, “just you and how much I miss your touch, your presence, your voice, the way you kiss and fuck me”

He smirked at your words, hand coming back to your thigh, then travelling down to tease your aching clothed core.

You took a shaky breath, biting your lip and bucking your hips up at the need of more friction. You were so wet already that he could feel it through your pants.

“Want me to kiss you and fuck you?”

“Y-yes, please” you begged with desperation, herring impatient within seconds.

“But you’re going to have to be really quiet, okay?”

You nodded and he leaned in to kiss you, his fingers pulling on the waistband as he found his way underneath the fabric, finding your swollen folds that he missed touching so badly.

“My fucking god, you’re soaked” he whispered as he laid you down on your back, now sitting in between your legs as he pulled your pants down together with your underwear and threw them away, quick to continue rubbing your sweet spot again. He watched your needy face, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and ache, lips parted as you took deep breaths. He inserted two fingers with no warning, causing you to gasp as he hit the right spot with the pads of his fingers.

“Fuck” you writhed under him uncontrollably, only wanting more of him.

Pumping his fingers in and out he watched your expression, loving how your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

But he couldn’t wait any longer. He unbuckled his belt, the metal rattling as he took his jeans off, his hard length springing free as Kirk fully undressed himself.

Kneeling at the end of the bed, he pulled you closer by your hips, a soft gasp escaping from you.

The long brown locks fell in his face as he aligned his length with your soaking core, strands sticking to the bottom lip as he had it parted from the top one. His piercing gaze burned through you as he looked into your eyes, a smirk curving on his mouth as he slipped himself inside, watching how your eyes rolled back from the feeling. You were filled up with his throbbing cock in a second, the tip brushing against your most sensitive spot. Kirk was so big. He stretched you out so good after you had almost forgotten how he felt like.

Things went slow and gentle at first, wet kisses were peppered all over your neck that he bit and sucked afterwards, leaving purple spots on the shivering skin. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to do that, but Kirk didn’t care at all. He missed you and wanted you like never before, so he wasn’t going to stop himself from doing something a little more than just kissing on the neck.

When he picked up the pace, your back arched and your head flew back into the pillows, legs shaking and eyes rolling back. His hips met yours in a quick pace, the sounds of skin slapping filling the room, but not too loud. In fact, you found it impossible to keep your voice down.

“Kirk, fuck” a loud moan rang through the bedroom, leaving you embarrassed and angry at the same time. You were embarrassed because the others may just have heard you, but angry because you couldn’t fully enjoy the intimate time with your man.

“Quiet, baby, the others will hear” he shushed you, placing a hand over your mouth as he continued to thrust his hips mercilessly. Your eyes were watering from the euphoric feeling, pupils dilated as you moaned into his palm.

“Shh, just a little bit more”

Kirk moved his hand away, replacing it with his lips that were now connected with yours. The heat built up in your lower abdomen and you exploded, cumming all over Kirk’s length, coating it with your juices. He followed right after, pulling out to pump his cock, the white liquid squirting on your stomach.

“Fuck, I think they might have heard me” you said, panting.

“Even if they did, it’s a bit embarrassing, but it’s not like they haven’t ever done the same”

You giggled, trying to catch your breath.

“I’ll go get something to clean you up, stay right here”

After leaving a kiss on your hot lips, Kirk threw his clothes back on, leaving the room to grab what he needed.

[yourlocaldcbitxh]

Gotham Headcannons: If you work for the GCPD (cop or other not specified)

~~

He cares

A lot

But tries to play it off like he doesn’t and that he completely trusts you

(He doesn’t)

The type of guy to try and weave his way into your conversations and try a figure out information

Goes on your laptop and phone so don’t leave those out if you have confidential info

Will accuse you of spying like 2 times a week with his whole dramatic hand wavy thingy

Give him little tidbits of information that are not important and he will trust you more

He lives for the office drama

Especially if Gordon is involved

All in all why would you do this to yourself

4/10 being generous

Pre-Riddler

Leaves you riddles and cupcakes on your desk because he gets into work before you

Will stop by once or twice a day to say hi and chat

Lunch together is a mandatory and it’s great

You usually eat down in his office as the other employees tease him for being able to find a partner

Simply stroke his ego a bit and he’ll be fine

Will totally ramble about his work and let you do the same if you want

Great talker and listener

9/10 cause he’s a little awkward but it’s ok

Post-Riddler

Manipulation is a word that comes to mind

He will, without fail, attempt to get you to spill information about how the GCPD is doing on catching him

You usually tell him cause it’s not confidential

That’s a gateway to more questions though so be careful

Your relationship will be a lot better if you knew him pre-riddler but he still loves you even if he didn’t

When he’s in his “Penguins bitch” phase he so saunters into the office and leans against your desk

Be warned though other officers hate you for dating him

4/10 in general he’s good but why are you dating a cop killer?

A true neutral

Doesn’t give a shit to be honest

He’s an assassin not a spy so he won’t pry for info except when it comes for him (wants to know about Alvarez)

You indulge him with the gossip and he eats it all up

Sassy queen will protect your name if anyone makes a comment about you being a cop

He may not like the system but you’ve showed him that even cops have a good side

He finds it ironic

No one knows you’re dating obviously because that’s a line neither of you will cross

Especially due to his line of work

All in all a pretty normal relationship 8/10

He is so happy to have someone who is a cop like him

That doesn’t stop him from being worried as shit about you

Totally that guy who’s like “oh a really dangerous case? I’ll take it” and then proceeds to double check your work without asking

Talk some sense into him please

His hero complex needs to be brought down a notch

You are capable and he knows that he just worries

After all like everyone he ever dated turned somewhat insane

So

Watch out for that

Harvey teases you guys and does that “if you hurt my brother I’ll kill you” stuff

Don’t be scared of him he’s fine

ANYWAY

Don’t bring up penguin

Ever

He will become a whiny bitch and no one wants that

All in like 6/10 cause he’s a workaholic and a mansplainer

He thinks it hot

You and a gun put together makes him feel things

But he totally puts on that “I only date dainty women so fuck off” the first time so smack some sense into him as well

Unlike Jim trusts you more with his job than himself

Will ask you to double check his cases if he feels a little off about it

He worries though

He hasn’t had great relationship success because of his personality so if you like brash Irish men this is your guy

You actually help him stop drinking it’s wonderful

He still does on a hard case but not as much as he used to

7/10 he’s great if you’re into him

Little Miss Barbie has a little temper Tantrum but that’s ok

You can’t blame her, her ex made her go insane and he was a cop

Ensure her that you’re nothing like him and maybe feed her a little info and yall are fine again

The type of person to call you at work and ask how you’re doing and if you can get out early so you guys can hang out

You usually say yes because dumping cases in Gordon is so fun

Plus you think he likes it so it’s no biggy

Tell Barbara you make his life a living hell and she will marry you right then and there

Don’t go to her club during her business meetings though that’s a mess no one wants to

All in all like a 6/10 cause of her mood swings but you can deal with that

Unhappy little man

Will either use you for information or kill you

But

If you somehow manage to weasel your way into his heart with your loving personality

He begins not to give a shit

Or pretends

He care and he doesn’t like it

And may kill you at a moment notice

But for now you’re good

2/10 you’re probably dead or being used

Again literally nothing on him he hates cops and bombed the entire city

Death is the most likely outcome

Or manipulation for information

More like that Ecco will kill your first rather than Jeremiah

1/10 dead probably or close to it

[digitaldiarystuff]

Cut Out For It

pairing: Pablo Gavi x Y/N

summary: Pablo is getting more and more female attention every passing day and his response, or the lack of it worries you

genre: angst/ fluff

————

You were currently watching your boyfriend Pablo from across the room. He was only now coming back from his injury and you couldn’t be prouder, tonight was supposed to be a little party to celebrate his return but thanks to Balde, who’s hosting, it quickly turned into a full on party with a sea of people. You didn’t even know half of them.

Don’t get it wrong, you were happy to be here with him and so happy for him but the only thing was the brunette hanging off his arm all night. There were actually two and you didn’t know any of them. As soon as you arrived with Pablo and everyone cheered for the golden boy, Balde came and collected him. You thought they probably had some catching up to do so let them do their own thing while you went to sit with the girls and it was going fine until you saw those two girls hugging your boyfriend and his friend. Balde was single, he could do whatever he wanted with whoever you knew that but it was the lack of effort from your boyfriend that hurt you. Everyone could tell the girl was shooting her shot at bagging a footballer, who’s very popular among women, but Pablo kept his place and chatted with her without a glance at you. You tried calming yourself down with a cocktail, then another one and reassured yourself that you had nothing to worry about. You knew Pablo and you knew he loved you, he told you the night of his injury and he meant it but the intrusive thoughts ran through your mind. What if this is how it’s going to be from now on? He was young, handsome, smart and Barcelona’s star. Of course he’s going to get attention but why isn’t he putting a stop to it?

“Earth to Y/N! What’s going on girl?” Sophie asked laughing, she was sitting with you at a sofa placed strategically facing Pablo. She followed your gaze and her smile faltered.

“Oh I see. But, you know it’s nothing.”

“No, I know.” you said trying to fool you both. “It’s just, he hasn’t even looked my way in the past hour Sophie.” you sadly added.

“Why don’t we go to him? Maybe you’ll dance a little and remind him what he’s missing.” she suggestively said but you were in no mood to dance.

“I don’t think so. Let’s get another drink.” you stood up and made your way to the kitchen but when you stepped back to the main area your ears started ringing, the girl put her hand on Pablo’s biceps laughing a little extra probably saying something corny like ‘omg you’re so fit i can’t believe it’ It took everything in you to not ruin the party and drag Pablo out but you knew he had to do it himself or you couldn’t trust him to do it when you’re not around. This was your biggest concern, they went out to celebrate or to parties a lot all over the world and you couldn’t monitor him like a child. He has to be able to walk away from attention seekers to come to you but it doesn’t look like it.

After a hour and 15 minutes Pablo finally remembered he had a girlfriend and tried to find you asking around. You were still in the same spot and when he finally found you he sweetly pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Are you having fun?”

“Are you having fun?” you reversed the question to him.

“I mean, it’s alright don’t you think?” he was so clueless it made you want to kiss and kill him at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah it is.” you forced a smile and he noticed.

“Does your feet hurt, we can go now if you’d like.”

“No Pablo, it’s your night. Have fun. I need to use the loo.” you said and got up trying to escape his interrogation because you knew you would’ve exploded.

“Y/N, bebe what’s wrong?” he caught up to you holding your arm but you really needed him to drop this if he didn’t want to fight.

“Nothing Pablo, I’m just going to pee.” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he tried again.

“Y/N please, what happened?”

At this point you knew there was no point of trying to remain calm and this argument was bound to happen so you held his hand and pulled him by the cuffs into the first room you saw which appeared to be a guest bedroom.

He tried to hug you from behind thinking you were in here for another reason but you quickly smacked his hands.

“Okay seriously tell me what’s going on?” he pressed.

“Look, I’m not a controlling girlfriend and you know it. I don’t want to control you or monitor your moves because I want to trust you.” you started pouring your heart out but also clarifying you’re not being a jealous bitch.

“I know.” he nodded

“But I can’t feel but disrespected when you’re out there chatting with random girls at a party I’m here with you. I mean, if you can do this with me here what are you doing when I’m not?” you finally snapped and you could see his eyes widen with the accusation.

“Do you really think-

“I don’t know Pablo, I’m asking you. Do you really think this is okay? Is it a celebrity thing where you flirt with whoever but it’s all harmless?”

You knew you were pushing his buttons, Pablo hated being called a celebrity. He always said he is a boy who loves football and that’s it.

“But maybe I should’ve excepted this. I mean, it’s not easy to be 19 and handle fame.” you said and he was getting more and more shocked with every second.

You could see he was ready to defend himself at first but now, he was just sitting on the bed with his head low while you paced around in the room accusing him.

“Do you really think I couldn’t handle being recognized?” he asked and if you weren’t furious you would see the sad pouty look on his face.

“It certainly doesn’t look like it.”

“I’m sorry you feel like that.”

You looked at him for the first time, he was completely distraught.

“Pablo, I-

“No you’re right. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Pablo I’m sorry if I hurt you, I just, I was just angry.”

“No I understand, I knew I wasn’t cut out for it anyway.”

“No no no please don’t say that. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just jealous.”

“You were jealous?” he asked with a small grin, this was the first time you showed any emotion about it.

“I see you’re enjoying this, but seriously-

“You don’t have to say anything, I’m sorry for everything Y/N. I love you more than anything and promise to be more careful. And yes, I like when you’re jealous, it’s hot.”

You playfully shoved his chest.

“Pabs!”

“What? I’m just saying, we’re completely alone in a bedroom sitting on a comfy bed.” his hands started to make their way around your body.

“We can’t” you started giggling.

“Yes we can.”

“I love you so much.” you said and leaned in, he got the message immediately and laid you down continuing to show you just how much you mean to him.

————

[edenmemes]

red dead redemption 1 starters

❝ it’s wanting that gets so many folks in trouble. ❞ ❝ it ain’t no secret i didn’t get these scars falling over in church. ❞ ❝ if you win power, remember why you wanted it. ❞ ❝ you do a man wrong, he’ll shoot you for it. you do a man right…well, he still may shoot you for it. ❞ ❝ trust me. there’s things you’re better off not knowing. ❞ ❝ you remind me a lot of myself. how i used to be. stubborn and angry. ❞ ❝ i hope you will give me some warning if you get the sudden urge to kill me. ❞ ❝ my side wasn’t chosen. my side was given. ❞ ❝ a little sore, but apart from a couple extra scars, it will be as nothing happened. ❞ ❝ i don’t think you’re a bad person. a little stupid perhaps, but not rotten. ❞ ❝ i certainly don’t mind you asking, if you don’t mind me not telling. ❞ ❝ you are being deliberately obscure as a substitute for having a personality. ❞ ❝ so do tell me, have you needlessly risked your life since we last spoke? ❞ ❝ i came into this world fighting. and i’ll go out of it fighting. ❞ ❝ i hear you speak and suddenly i'm reminded of how the people i respected most in my life had a problem with authority. ❞ ❝ you're looking much better. considering you were almost buzzard food a couple days ago. ❞ ❝ power is like a drink. the more you have, the more you want. ❞ ❝ people don’t forget. nothing gets forgiven. ❞ ❝ sometimes in the service of what is right, you got to do terrible things. ❞ ❝ you have quite a story. i really am a little jealous. ❞ ❝ old friends make the worst enemies. ❞ ❝ i had everything, and gave it up in the pursuit of nothing. ❞ ❝ hah. you were always bad at lying. ❞ ❝ i’m not going to stand by and watch good people suffer. ❞ ❝ some trees flourish, others die. some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves. some men are born rich enough and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. ain't nothing fair. you know that. ❞ ❝ if you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging. ❞ ❝ now, if you don't mind, i'd hate to spoil such a beautiful afternoon on such beautiful land with any further unpleasantries. ❞ ❝ i, too, have a family, friend. and so that we may see our families again i suggest we part ways amicably. ❞ ❝ sometimes i tell myself that everything happens for a reason. ❞ ❝ i see the good in everybody. it’s a flaw of mine. ❞ ❝ well, try not to get yourself killed. ❞ ❝ see if you can keep your gun holstered for once. ❞ ❝ i don’t pay much attention to rumors. ❞ ❝ i swear, if it was down to me, i’d never have gone anywhere. ❞ ❝ lock all the doors. whatever happens, don’t come outside. you hear me? whatever happens. ❞ ❝ what would you care? i’m just a nuisance to you anyway. ❞ ❝ i’ve been hearing some things about you. ❞ ❝ i would rather be dead than a cynic like you. ❞ ❝ damn, a little gratitude wouldn’t kill you. ❞ ❝ trust me, i ain’t no hero. ❞ ❝ as it turns out, it's you or me. the way i see it, might as well be you. ❞ ❝ you live in a dream world. it ain’t like they tell it in books. ❞ ❝ i’m asking you to do what i say, before you get yourself killed. ❞ ❝ those who sit on the fence make a choice…in their own way. ❞ ❝ i’d do anything for you, you know that. ❞ ❝ better watch your mouth, my friend. i've cut out a man's tongue for less. ❞ ❝ there's nothing worse than a nobody thinking he's a somebody. ❞ ❝ you got it all wrong. i’ve always loved you, even now. ❞ ❝ what the hell were you thinking, going off on your own? ❞ ❝ first impressions are hard to erase. ❞ ❝ it’s a long story. too long to tell without a drink in my hand. ❞ ❝ i’m not angry. i’m disappointed. ❞ ❝ you know me. i’ll be late to my own funeral. ❞ ❝ that tone of voice ain’t so becoming on you. makes you seem all pent up and angry. ❞ ❝ you think i don’t know who you are. ❞ ❝ why don’t i get a warm and tender embrace? ❞ ❝ what do you want me to say? yippee? ❞ ❝ there’s always a choice. you’re just too blind to see. ❞ ❝ you’re not ready for that yet. one step at a time. ❞ ❝ every time you go off, i worry you’re not coming back. ❞ ❝ it didn’t have to be this way. ❞ ❝ come on now. try to look on the bright side. ❞

❝ after all i taught you…i’m ashamed. ❞ ❝ it’s easy to make promises you can never keep. ❞ ❝ we all make mistakes. i never claimed to be a saint. ❞ ❝ how does it feel to kill hundreds of men in cold blood? ❞ ❝ it ain’t the first time i had a gun to my head. ❞ ❝ you’re not perfect, and i’m sure not. but you’re better than they are. ❞ ❝ you alright? you’re not hurt, are you? ❞ ❝ this really couldn’t have gone more horribly wrong. ❞ ❝ you’re just like me. you can’t change who you are. ❞ ❝ my whole life, all i ever did was fight. ❞ ❝ you’re in no position to make demands. ❞ ❝ the bright side? there ain’t no bright side. ❞ ❝ my heart’s beating like a drum. ❞ ❝ are you sure you’re alright? i mean, i know all that business must have been hard on you. ❞ ❝ you’ll make me blush with all these kind words. ❞ ❝ i never took you for the jealous type. ❞ ❝ come now, you’re stupid, but you’re not that stupid. ❞ ❝ you’re weak. you always were. you never had the stomach for this. ❞ ❝ seems real quiet, don’t you think? ❞ ❝ you were always a hard and nasty man. ❞ ❝ see, i have nothing but your best intentions at heart. ❞ ❝ don’t talk about things you don’t understand. ❞ ❝ i guess there’s only one room for one hero in this family. ❞ ❝ for a wise man, you are a really stupid man. ❞ ❝ what would have happened if i hadn’t come along? ❞ ❝ you must have mistaken me for someone else, friend. ❞ ❝ you ain’t very talkative, are you? ❞ ❝ we cannot be too careful. the world is very dangerous. ❞ ❝ no, i’m not okay. do i look like i’m okay? ❞ ❝ you are so tense all the time. come, let’s have some fun! ❞ ❝ i will stay and fight. i am ready to die if necessary. ❞ ❝ i know i can’t change the past but i’m sure gonna do something about the future. ❞ ❝ i’ve given you no reason not to trust me. ❞ ❝ choose your tone rightly. remember who you’re talking to. ❞ ❝ there are guards everywhere. if they see you, they will kill you. ❞ ❝ it was nothing. i’m not a kid any more.❞ ❝ a lonely, forsaken place. some people say it’s haunted. ❞ ❝ i’m not sure your idea of paradise and mine are the same. ❞ ❝ maybe if you were more cordial to folks, they’d be better inclined to help you. ❞ ❝ i’ve been in far worse situations. ❞ ❝ you have the exterior of a violent man, but the soul of an angel. ❞ ❝ you’re not gonna pass out on me, are you? ❞ ❝ you’re no better. how many men have you killed? ❞ ❝ stay alert. something doesn’t feel right. ❞

❝ i'm going to hand you over to them and watch them tear you limb from limb…i'm just kidding. ❞ ❝ you love to talk badly of other people because it makes you feel better about yourself. ❞ ❝ it’s been a pleasure spending time with you. ❞ ❝ that’s a lot of sacrifice. i just hope it’s worth it. ❞ ❝ i’m not cut out for this. no, not cut out for this at all. ❞ ❝ i don’t need you to show me. ❞ ❝ men are born, and then they're formed. at least, that’s how i see it. ❞ ❝ a little flattery…now we’re finally getting somewhere. ❞ ❝ i thought you were supposed to be fearless. ❞ ❝ you are a man who has lost his spirit. ❞ ❝ if you were less secretive, people might be more inclined to trust you. ❞ ❝ me mean me no harm? this is funny. what harm could you do to me, exactly? ❞ ❝ come on, after everything we’ve been through, i think we can trust each other, don’t you? ❞ ❝ i can’t rightly believe it. just like in the books. ❞ ❝ i didn’t ask for your help back there. i owe you nothing. ❞ ❝ be careful. what’s stopping me from killing you? ❞ ❝ one day, i promise you, you’re gonna regret this. ❞ ❝ you know i’ll do whatever i can, but i have problems of my own. ❞ ❝ what would you know about leadership? ❞ ❝ you make a choice by not making a choice, you know. ❞ ❝ hold your excuses until you figure out which one to use. ❞ ❝ i'll give you a bad case of "someone just shot me in the head" if you don't hurry up. ❞ ❝ being honest though, this tastes bad enough to kill a man. ❞ ❝ do i look like i need saving? ❞ ❝ sarcasm should be beneath a man such as you. ❞ ❝ are you always this stupid or are you making an extra effort today? ❞ ❝ i don’t like to kill a man on his knees, even if he deserves it. ❞ ❝ don't forget you need me more than i need you. ❞ ❝ i’ll hunt you to hell and back. ❞ ❝ you’d best not be lying to me. ❞ ❝ let's get going. before the weather gets any worse. that sky don't look good.. ❞ ❝ thank you for telling me all that back there. it must have been hard for you. ❞ ❝ i know we ain't exactly old pals, but…have i ever done you wrong? ❞ ❝ your nobility's almost as affecting as your naivety. ❞ ❝ you are a romantic who wants to be a cynic. ❞ ❝ i apologize if i seem to be prying. ❞ ❝ strange place for a decent person to visit, if you don't mind me saying. ❞ ❝ well, you must admit…it's an unusual start to a friendship. ❞ ❝ i can’t really say i understand you. ❞ ❝ every man has a right to change, a chance of forgiveness. ❞ ❝ hello, old friend. it’s been a long time. ❞ ❝ i hope you understand now why i've been playing my cards somewhat close to my chest. ❞ ❝ nobody made my path but me. ❞ ❝ it’ll be a piece of cake. trust me. ❞ ❝ oh, don’t be so deliberately enigmatic. ❞ ❝ my word, what a difficult life you’ve lived. ❞ ❝ you have a strange sense of humor. ❞ ❝ stay and fight me, you coward. ❞ ❝ i ain't planning on staying very long. ❞

[rizlowwritessortof]

Dangerous In More Ways Than One

Here we go, my first entry for @jacklesversebingo24 🥰 Prompt is 'Dangerous Suggestion.' Hope you enjoy!

Danger is sometimes just in your mind - but Dean is definitely danger of another kind.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 1954

Warnings: None really, except Dean in a tux; fluff

The warmth of Dean’s hands seeps through the silky fabric of your dress as he holds your waist, kissing you without warning, and the shock steals your breath away. The deliberate clearing of a throat makes it all stop, both of you looking wide-eyed towards the sound.

“Sir, ma’am – sorry, but you’re not supposed to be in here.”

You don’t have to fake your blush, and Dean glances down at the floor with an embarrassed smirk, expertly fooling the security guard standing in the doorway.

“Sorry, man – we were, uh, just looking for a little privacy, and this door was unlocked, so we just…”

“I understand. But you’ll have to find your privacy elsewhere. This office should have been locked and off-limits.”

Dean nods and takes your hand, leading you out the door as the guard steps aside, and he apologizes once again for good measure as you follow him back to the banquet hall. He parks you next to the wall and bends to whisper in your ear. “Sorry about that. Had to think fast.”

Your eyes slide up to meet his for a second, then you stare back at the floor, unwilling to let him read you quite yet. You nod, responding quietly. “Yeah, of course. At least we didn’t get caught.”

He sighs in frustration. “Didn’t get what we were after, either. So we have to come up with a new plan.” He looks over at the buffet table, cocking an eyebrow at the tempting offerings there. “How about we grab some food and a drink, sit down and figure it out.”

You agree, relieved at the thought of getting off your feet. Your heels are killing you. “Sounds good to me.”

He slips an arm around you, and the muscles in your stomach clench as his hand rests possessively at your waist again. He looks incredible in his borrowed tux, and you are having thoughts that you normally batter into submission with focused research, beer and violence against evil creatures. Unfortunately, none of that is available at the moment, but a glass of champagne can’t hurt.

You claim one of the small tables scattered throughout the room, letting Dean play the gentleman and hold your chair as you sit. Who knew he had that in him? You take a gulp of the bubbly, pop a cheese puff into your mouth, and mentally remind yourself to guard your expression before looking up into those stunning green eyes. “So, now what?”

“Well…” he managed between chewing, “I think I should head for the bathroom.”

You laugh softly. “Okay. That’ll teach ‘em.”

“I mean as an excuse, smartass. I should go, look for an unlocked door so we can duck inside and wait until everybody clears out. Then we pick the lock again, grab that fucking cursed statue and we’re home free.” The amused smile is still on your face, and he can’t resist responding with a slow grin that makes your heart skip a little. “Well, that’s my suggestion. You got anything better?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I think that’s probably the best plan. So – go tinkle or whatever, I’ll guard your baby quiche.”

He stands up, narrowing his eyes at you. “Just so you know, I counted those.” You can’t help but giggle as he turns to go. The man is serious about his food.

He isn’t gone long, sits down and takes a sip of his whiskey. “Okay, we’re good. Just need to wait until the crowd thins out a little so we can get in there without Mall Cop catching us.” He glances down, then glares over at you. “You ate one of my quiche.”

People have finally started to leave, and you are so ready for this night to be over. You had taken as long as possible to eat, each had another drink, strolled around pretending to look at the art on display, but you are officially over wearing heels and trying to act like you fit in with this rich, pretentious crowd.

The guard Dean had dubbed ‘Mall Cop’ is busy manning the door as people leave, so now is as good a time as any to get yourselves settled in for the next hour or two until the place is empty. Dean guides you down the hall, a couple of doors down from the office you needed to get into later, looking over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear.

“Ok, let’s go,” Dean says, his voice barely above a whisper. He opens the door, craning his neck to look over his shoulder as he urges you past him to the doorway. “Get in there before somebody sees us.”

You step around him, and your eyes grow wide as your hands fly out to brace on the sides of the door frame. “This is a bad idea.”

Dean’s voice hisses in your ear as he pushes you inside. “You agreed to it, sweetheart, now move.”

He squeezes in behind you, pulling the door closed quietly. It’s pitch black and there’s barely enough room for both of you in the tiny broom closet, which is luckily empty of all but a couple of brooms and a mop leaning in one corner. “I changed my mind. I hate your suggestion. It’s a very bad suggestion. A very bad, dangerous suggestion.”

Dean scoffs at your comment. “It’s not dangerous. As long as we’re quiet, they’re not gonna know we’re here. They’ll all clear out in an hour or so, and then we can hit Maitland’s office, get that damn statue and then we’re outta here.”

Your breathing is quickening, your heart beginning to pound. “It is dangerous. I can feel it.”

You feel his hand on your shoulder, his fingers trailing down the length of your bare arm as he chuckles softly. “Afraid to be in the dark with me?” His hand covers yours, and he freezes for a moment, feeling the trembling of your fingers beneath his. When he speaks, the tone of his voice is completely different. “Claustrophobia? But I thought you were okay with hiding out until...”

“I thought it would be a room. Like, a real room, a whole, big room with, you know, room and – and air. Lots and lots of air. Not a tiny death trap. We’re gonna get stuck in here, the walls are going to close in on me and I… I can’t breathe.” Even though you are whispering, your fear comes through loud and clear.

Dean moves both of his hands up to your upper arms, supporting you. “We’re not going to get trapped. All I have to do is open the door, there’s not even a lock on it. Okay?” His voice is gentle as he continues. “The walls aren’t going to close in on you.”

Your trembling continues, and each breath is coming in soft, desperate little whines. “I… can’t…”

He says your name quietly. “Do you trust me?” After a second, you nod, and he gives your arms a squeeze. “Okay. First of all, take off those ridiculous shoes. You need to get comfortable.”

You slip out of your heels, doing what he asks without question, and the cool floor on your bare feet is actually soothing.

“Okay, now just lean back into me.” He moves his hands to cover yours, bringing them up to rest at your waist. “Just relax, feel when I breathe and breathe with me. In – out. In – out. In – out.” His hands stay on yours, holding you in place, grounding you as he slowly guides you out of your panic.

You are tense at first, but gradually you lay your head back against his shoulder and relax against his firm chest, your body responding and your breathing syncing with his. Your quaking begins to calm, and Dean gives your hand a squeeze. “Better?”

You nod as you answer. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You draw in a shaky breath. “Just – talk to me. So I don’t have to think about where I am.”

“What do you want me to talk about?”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Anything.”

He blows out a breath. “Okay. So – you look amazing tonight.”

You let out a disbelieving little laugh. “Wow, you really are trying to distract me.”

He sputters a little as he answers. “No! Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. I should have told you before, but when you came out in this slinky dress and those sexy high heels, I couldn’t get any words to come out. So, I’m telling you now.”

You blow out an incredulous breath. “I – didn’t think you even noticed how I look. Like, ever.” You tilt your head back as if you can look up at him, even though it’s too dark to see. “And you said my shoes were ridiculous.”

“Well, they are. I mean, they can’t be comfortable. But they are sexy, and when you walk, it kinda puts a little extra swing in your step, it’s – ah…” he clears his throat. “Yeah, sexy.”

“Women are used to being uncomfortable just to look good for men.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t need to. I mean, you always look good. Barefoot, in your old jeans, or those cute little cut-offs you wear sometimes. And that old sweatshirt that hangs off your shoulder, that’s good, too.” He leans down so he can speak softly in your ear. “Kinda makes me want to take a bite.”

You’re finding it hard to breathe again. “You’ve never even tried.”

“Well, maybe the time’s never been right. Or maybe I just didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Wow. And I thought you could see right through me.”

“You’ve always kept your distance, and I thought that’s the way you wanted it.” His thumb is brushing over the soft skin of your hand.

“I thought that’s the way you wanted it. I didn’t think you were even interested in anything else.”

“Shhhhh,” Dean whispers, and you both go silent. Footsteps echo in the hall, then a voice right outside the door makes you jump.

“Did you check the bathrooms?” A distant ‘yeah’ came back in reply. “Good, then let’s get the hell out of here and go grab a beer.”

The footsteps retreat back the way they came, and you let out the breath you were holding. “Just a few minutes to make sure they’re gone,” Dean says softly, and you nod.

After a few long minutes have passed, he finally reaches behind him and opens the door. The dim nightlights in the hallway let you see your way out, and you take a deep breath. “This is much better.”

You start to take a step, but Dean takes hold of your hand and stops you, backing you into the wall.

“You still owe me for that quiche you stole,” he says, his eyes shining playfully. Then he bends to kiss you, gentle at first, then more hungrily as you grab at his jacket to tug him closer. When he finally lifts his head, you are both panting, his eyes searching yours as he waits for your reaction.

“I knew this was gonna be dangerous - in more ways than one,” you tease, and he grins, a touch of relief in his eyes.

“Danger is my middle name,” Dean quips in his best Austin Powers voice, and you giggle, stretching up on tiptoe to kiss him again. You smile slyly up at him as you slide out from between him and the wall, heading towards the office that holds your target. “Hey,” he says, and you stop, turning to look at him. He holds out his hand, your shoes dangling from his fingers. “Don’t forget your ridiculous shoes.”

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