#SO OPENLY SMILING SO YOUNG AGAIN JUST HAVING FUN!
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cuubism · 4 hours ago
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Idk if you are still taking prompts, but: After their first meeting, while Hob still thinks it is a joke, he escorts Dream out. It is only when Dream returns to the Dreaming that he realizes his ruby has been stolen by Hob. Thus begins a game of cat and mouse through the ages, and Hob keeps slipping through his Endless fingers.
oh dear, this was from last year. fun though! could be the basis for a much longer fic. i love thief hob
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Hob knows better than to gloat openly about his winnings, but he can't help tossing the ruby a few times in his hand as he walks, admiring it. Such a stunning gem, he's never seen its like but in paintings of kings, and even those are rare enough. Invaluable. And the strange lord had just had it about his neck, for all to see.
Hob shakes his head, tucking the ruby away in his tunic. Money can't buy common sense, it seems.
He finds his horse in the stable and leads it outside, stepping into the stirrup and swinging up into the saddle. After a find like this, best to disappear. Easy as the ruby had been to snatch, that strange young lord will doubtless come back looking for it, once he notices it's gone.
Night is falling by the time Hob reaches the treeline. He hasn't been followed--the path behind him has been empty for hours, and the trees show nothing but birdsong as he steers his horse into the darkness. Hob knows this route well, and by the time the moon is high above, he's navigated to a familiar clearing, untacked his horse, and sat back against a tree for some rest.
He can't help but look at the strange ruby one more time before going to sleep. It glows unnaturally in the moonlight, a blue-white reflection on a background of venous red. He tilts it back and forth in his palm, studying the cut. Who, exactly, is going to buy this from him, he can't yet say. But it'll pay his way for years once he finds them.
Hob kisses the ruby's cool surface, then tucks it away in his tunic again, chain wrapped around his fingers for safekeeping. He quickly falls asleep.
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The moon is still high when Hob wakes, startling back to awareness against the trunk of the tree. He scrubs a hand over his eyes, looking around, disoriented. Strange, it's like it's been only moments since he fell asleep--
His horse is gone. So's his pack. And for that matter, the clearing is smaller, closer, darker than he remembers--
Heart pounding, he scrambles in his tunic to find--
"I imagine you are looking for this," says a low voice, and from the darkness emerges the wine-red glint of the ruby. Following it is the dark shape of the lord Hob had robbed in the tavern, only he's-- he's--
He's horrible. His eyes glow white in the dark, his hair waves in a strange wind, and everything about him is sharp and wrong, like an uneasy nightmare Hob might have in the wee hours, consequences coming back for him.
"Look," he says, holding up his hands in self-defense. Shit, his sword's gone from his belt, too. "S'really your fault for swanning about with that thing, innit? 's bandit country, m'lord."
"Is it?" He... doesn't seem angry. He's smiling. Oh, it's a terrible smile, but nevertheless. "How foolish of me, then. To expect to maintain ownership of my belongings."
"Like I said, thieves about," Hob says. "Got to be careful, now." Really, what did he expect Hob to do? Let someone else get the score?
The strange lord sits down on the grass across from Hob, still with those glowing eyes and that terrible smile playing about his lips. "And what, Robert Gadling, ought I to do, having caught one of these thieves?"
And the thing is. Authority doesn't work very well on Hob. One of his 'flaws' most like to get him killed, 'cuz Authority didn't tend to care whether it worked on you or not. Hob's been hauled before the magistrate for theft before and no matter that he knew he'd be lucky to get away with his life he could never quite bite his tongue. Always a smart mouth, his mum used to say.
It's no different with this lord. Hob's hardly about to bow his head and apologize. He remembers the smirk on the other man's face at his challenge in the tavern. Pretty little thing to be talking big words about punishing thieves.
"Dunno," he says, tracking his gaze over the soft lines of the man's dark robe, his fine neck and narrow shoulders. The longer Hob looks, the less frightening he seems, though there is still something of the otherworld about him. God's teeth, if Hob's brought the ire of the fey about him... "What would you like to do?"
And the strange creature laughs. Just a chuckle, but nevertheless. "I could make you spend your next one hundred years paying a thief's price over and over again in the Dreaming, as penance for taking my ruby," he says. "Should I do that, Hob? Cut off your hands, and again and again as you regrow them?"
"If you did you wouldn't get to see what they can do for you," Hob says. Hell, Hob'll do it even without threat of punishment. He's a pretty little lord, for certain, even if he is fey.
The lord chuckles again, and closes his fist around the ruby, stealing its light. Without the reflection, his eyes seem even wilder. "Hm. Perhaps not this time. I am too curious to waste your next century in sleeping punishment." He takes Hob's face in one hand, holding his chin in sharp fingers. "Be wary what your hands touch in the Waking World, Hob Gadling. Not all creatures will find your insolence humorous enough to wish to be merciful."
He lets go, and Hob falls backward through the tree at his back, falls into darkness--
And wakes in sunlight, his pack beside him, his sword at his side, his horse grazing a few feet away.
Heart pounding, he shoves his hand into his tunic, though he already knows what he'll find.
Or what he won't find. The ruby, gone into the darkness, into dreams, with his strange, fey lord.
Hob shivers.
Well. He'll certainly have to meet him again in 1489, now. Not to retake the ruby--that hardly matters in the end.
But answers to all the mysteries it's brought: those Hob would gladly steal.
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usertoxicyaoi · 2 months ago
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"Why are you smiling?"
THE ON1Y ONE (2024). EPISODE SEVEN.
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emeritusemeritus · 6 days ago
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Hi! I love your writings! I’m obsessed with jealous fred weasley so if you could write a one shot with whatever you’d like :)))
(If you hate just ignore pls lol)
Hi love! Thank you so much, this has been a lot of fun to write. I’ve been sat watching Goblet of Fire, took one look at Fred in this scene and knew it just had to be long hair Freddie because it makes me feral. Hope you enjoy! 🖤
Warnings: bit of swearing, mild sexual references. Fred gets jealous and a little possessive. Talks of marriage. Sorry McLaggen I needed a villain.
Word count: 1k
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A cold heart and a warm jumper
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Jealousy wasn't something Fred Weasley ever felt.
He knew his family weren't rich, that they'd never have the best of anything or anything new in abundance and so from a young age, he'd made peace with it and learned not to envy others. Being one of seven kids and most importantly a twin in a family that was already stretched both financially and emotionally, he'd had to learn to share, virtually from the day he was born. He'd shared clothes, toys, his room, practically his entire life with George, even a uterus and placenta, though he didn't care to think about that.
But now, watching Cormac McLaggen leering over the one thing in his life that he absolutely refused to share, he felt the unfamiliar rise of the green eyed monster throughout his entire body.
Godric he hated that slimy little prick. With his stupid blonde curls and the smug little smile that Fred really wanted to slap off his face right now, regardless of his rich daddy and any consequences that would inevitably follow.
The common room was a blaze with celebration, Harry’s victory in joint first place of the first task had been wildly celebrated by each and every Gryffindor and even Ron had joined in after being such a miserable git for a month. But even with the chaos and jubilant celebration around him, as well as a decent profit they’d made on taking the bets during the task, Fred was not in the mood for a party.
Despite it being the end of November, Fred’s striped jumper and beige overcoat suddenly felt like they were suffocating him as he stared at the corner where McLaggen leaned suggestively ogling his girlfriend, reaching out to touch her arm and shifting ever closer to where she stood. He was getting hotter by the second, burning up with anger and jealousy as he looked in disgust at the slimy sod. Who did he think he was to be stood so close to Fred’s girl? They’d been together years, it was hardly like nobody knew that she was his.
But then he heard your girlish giggle and his blood seemed to run cold. You were openly laughing with him, playing with a strand of your hair and making no move to shut down his advances.
He’d had enough and was just ready to march over and make Cormac choke down a puking pastille when he watched you take off your coat, throwing it over the chair behind you and taking a step back to avoid Cormac’s over familiar hands as they reached out for you again. Fred’s heart pounded as he looked at what you were wearing so proudly, his quidditch jumper with his surname displayed right across the back. He remembered now how you’d complained of being cold just before you left to view the task and he’d nipped up to his dorm to retrieve a warm jumper for you. He knew it wasn’t the nicest sweater, there was a hole in the left armpit that had been stitched back together with a completely different coloured thread and a great big pull in the fabric on the right sleeve but you’d worn it with pride. Your face had lit up when he held it out to you and you’d tried to sneakily smell it with a cute smile before you threw it over your head, tying up your hair so you could show off his surname now displayed across your back.
Watching you now, he realised how wrong he’d been. You were inching away from McLaggen, body turned away and looking for any sign of escape, the fingers in your hair a simple mechanism to block him from reaching out to you.
Fred was on his feet in seconds, almost trampling a load of first years who were sat in the pathway as he stalked over to where you were standing, his eyes fixed upon the letters across your back.
“Weasley,” he whispers in your ear as a greeting, immediately stepping behind you and placing his hand on the curve of your bum. You jump slightly at the sudden intrusion but recover quickly as you realise it’s him behind you. Fred watched as a smirk blossomed across your face as you realised, pressing your hips back just slightly as a form of acknowledgment, backing up into his hand which he squeezed, getting a good grip of your bum.
“This looks very good on you,” he whispers again into your ear, bending down just enough so that only you could hear how deep and breathy his voice had become. He reaches out with his left hand to glide it over your hip to your waist, tugging on the fabric of the jumper just enough that you’d understand exactly what he meant.
“The jumper or the name?” You smirk, earning another squeeze of your bum for your cheekiness, both of you openly ignoring McLaggen who is still trying to talk to you.
“Both,” Fred smirks, the tip of his nose catching on your hair, his lips moving dangerously closely to the smooth skin of your neck.
“If you don’t mind McLaggen, me and the Mrs have business to attend to,” Fred says suddenly, not even looking at Cormac who briefly considers if he does mind or not, mouth opening as if he is about to protest.
Fred doesn’t even give him a chance and simply throws his right arm around your shoulders and pulls you away with a shit eating grin on his face. His hand slips back towards your bum as you’re walking away, his hand slipping into your jeans pocket as he pulls you close to him, asserting his place. He can’t help but smirk as he directs you towards the stairs to the dorms, knowing that Cormac is still watching the pair of you and he takes a sick pleasure in knowing the last thing McLaggen will see of you tonight is Fred’s hand in your jeans as he takes you to his dorm; with his surname plastered in large letters across your back. The same surname that will be yours in just a couple of years, if Fred gets his way.
Maybe he should invite Cormac to the wedding.
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spncvr · 6 months ago
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scott street | remus lupin
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summary: You return to your childhood home. Remus, your past love, unexpectedly returns. (based on the song scott street if that wasn’t obvious)
pairing: rockstar!remus lupin x fem!reader (3rd person oops sorry)
warnings: is this.... angst?? idk but hurt/comfort!! no use of y/n bc i cannot write that and not die a little, and my terrible english i'm sure i mixed all the tenses up here guys sorry im tryinggg,, this is lowk cheesy as hell i feel like... LMAO
a/n: i was sick so i didn't go to school tdy but i wrote this banger oneshot (its 2,4k words can u belive?? longest thing ive ever written in english)
masterlist
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Walking Scott Street, feeling like a stranger
With an open heart, open container
THE SUN SUNK behind the many leaves which hung lazily on the branches. Through the old sheer curtains, the breeze blows faint whispers. The room is tinged with a familiar feeling; as if the concrete used that constructed this house is laced with memories from the past. The memories all flooded back like tides in a vast ocean, rolling back and forth as they brought back recollections of days gone by.
This was where she had grown up. The small backyard, the one with grass that had used to touch her ankles, was where she had first learned how to do a cartwheel. The bed, unchanged since she had left, felt almost ancient. She remembered the time she had faked a headache to skip school and had spent the whole day in it; back then the bed had felt like the only place she had wanted to live in. 
This was where she fell in love. So much in love, that she could not seem to pinpoint the exact moment she had ever fallen out of it. Maybe she never did. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore, at least.
The room’s walls are bare, and the old, washed-out wall once covered with posters of her favourite rock bands, no longer stands amongst the antique wallpaper. But his pictures were there. Their pictures. It seemed as though they were taunting her as it was propped up on the small table beside her bed. She picked one of them up, one that had stood out to her the most, and gazed at it.
She grew up without wealth. That was clear from the photo, where her top was much too big for her. Maybe it was her father’s; she can’t remember. But that hadn’t mattered to him. He had his arms around her shoulders and a smile on his lips akin to those she’d seen of him on posters and TV screens. She missed when he’d shown it just for her to see.
I’ve got a stack of mail and a tall can.It’s a shower beer, it’s a payment plan.
She tries to remember the moment or event that had taken place where they had taken the picture. And she almost forgets. It caused her to quickly put the picture back down, and a loud thud resonated between the calm sounds of home.
How could she forget? She felt like she was losing too much of herself. The part of herself that had lived here, one that had loved so freely and so openly, was slipping away so incredibly quickly—and suddenly she understood why her mother had cried when she chose a university so far off. She had almost forgotten a part of herself—a version of herself, that she seemed to have missed the most.
She sits down on the edge of the bed, still close to the picture she had put back down, only to look at it again, this time from afar. 
Of course, she remembers this moment. It had been her birthday, and he had taunted her mercilessly, telling her how she was just as old and frail as he was since she had always made fun of him for having his birthday at the start of the year and hers so close to the end. This may have contributed to the small roll of her eyes in the photo, but she was unable to control the grin that had painted itself on her lips. She can’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. Joking about being so incredibly old while being so young. She’d have given everything to be seventeen again if it meant being seventeen with him. 
Behind the picture, she had been staring at, was another one. And this time, she didn’t forget because, try as she might, she couldn’t.
She can’t seem to let go of the memory of the first time he kissed her, after a gig, a small one that he held with his mates at a pub not that far from here. She remembers how his skin was alight with adrenaline, and his gaze piercing. She couldn’t forget the moment when he told her that she had always been the one he loved not long after the picture, somewhere outside the pub, where the crisp chilly November breeze did not win against his palm that rested against her cheek.
Not long after, when he had brought her back to his, when he had kissed her silly. When she had realized that she really loved him too, and when the realization had hit her so hard, she had to loop her arms around his neck to keep herself upright, when there was only quiet in the house and all that could be heard was her gentle laughter and his sweet nothings, he had whispered in her ear so quietly, almost as if it were a secret, I would have been content to love you from a distance.
There, they were eighteen, fresh out of school and without the slightest idea where they’d go next. She had occasionally pondered what would have happened if they had more time, if they hadn’t both been so foolish, or, if they had both recognized how much it was they felt for one another sooner. But doing so would have made the parting even more painful than it already was. That was something she didn’t like to imagine.
She sighs and leaves the room. She needed to breathe.
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Do you feel ashamed, When you hear my name?
ADMITTEDLY, REMUS DIDN'T think he’d ever come back. To Wales, yes, of course, it was his country (now more than ever). But not to this house. Not to her house. He couldn’t ever think straight, not when he knew that she was out there somewhere forgetting every minute detail about their past, and not when the love she’d once felt for him had long gone. But here he stands. 
He’s overthinking this. She probably isn’t even home.
She’s always told him when they were young that she wanted to leave.
One day, she had whispered to him in the darkness, when they were six, her favourite stuffed animal tightly tucked between her arms, one day, we’ll be far away. Remus can’t remember whatever caused her to tell him this at such a young age, with such strong conviction. He thinks it was probably something silly—a classmate’s admonition that some activities were simply reserved for boys. Or maybe it was because her parents had refused to let her get ice cream after she’d finished all of her green vegetables (all that suffering for nothing, really). But the mindset had continued to stick in her mind; an ember of determination that refused to fade away.
One day, she says again, when she’s thirteen because her teacher had failed her in her first ever physics exam, one day this won’t matter. I’ll go. I’ll leave. She had said it so firmly and so surely that it scares him sometimes. Because, really, they’ve never been anywhere but here—so sometimes, he asks his mirror, pretending that she’s staring back at him: What if it’s just the same? What if it’s just as bad?
One day, she says again, when she’s seventeen because she has been looking at universities far off and away from Wales. He’d watch her as she’d stare at the campus pictures on the brochures their school had offered and study the student’s bright wide smiles, and sometimes, he wondered if she ever pictures herself in those hallways, with a group of new friends—she’d be the smart one, the witty one. Sometimes, Remus wondered if she ever pictured him with her as she told him with the biggest smile on her face: One day, I’ll be there. Anytime soon.
She’s never liked it here. That much was always clear to Remus. Her books were the sole bright spot in her otherwise (as she put it) bleak existence. Always arranged in a way that only she could fully understand within the small bookshelf she had bought for herself with her first paycheck when she was saving up for Uni. Often, he wondered if she had brought them with her when she had left or whether she had left them here. No longer feeling the drag of her fingertips against its words. Abandoned by its only reader. 
And for a while, he had thought that he’d given her another reason to love the place they’d always called home. But he left her. So why, then, would she ever choose to stay? Books could only last for so long.
Just knock, he curses to himself. Say hello to her parents. Tell them that you wanted to see how they were doing. 
And just when he’s about to finally get it over with, the door opens.
And she’s there.
She looks different. Hair cut short and brushed neatly. Her clothes fit her nicely. It feels kind of jarring. He doesn’t really know what to expect. He’d been half-expecting to see the girl who had her hair always tied up in a ponytail that didn’t do much, with the amount of hair that was always falling out of it or the girl who wore oversized band shirts that belonged to her father, along with the sneakers she’d been using ever since her feet had stopped growing—the girl who was so full of life it felt nearly impossible not to love her. It was silly, really. Of course, she’d changed. It’s been four years. 
“Remus?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing, “What’re you doing here?”
He opens his mouth and closes it again. What was he doing here?
“I’m—” he starts but pauses for a while to come up with an answer, “I didn’t know you still lived here.”
“I don’t,” she says, plainly.
“Oh.” he breathes, she’s always been forward, “Well, I’m here for holiday.”
“Yeah . . . yeah me too.”
He rocks on the heels of his foot back and forth, “I just— wanted to know how your parents are doing.”
She purses her lips, “Oh. Well, Dad’s doing alright, I bought him a bunch of LPs—some of them yours, actually. And Mum’s still trying to get used to me being back here. She’s cooked a thousand meals.”
“That’s good to know,” he nods, smiling, because sometimes, she has no idea the effect she has on people. “I’m glad they’re alright.”
“How’ve you been?” she inquires, “Heard you’re not doing too bad in your band thing.”
He laughs softly, “It’s been alright.”
She smiles, for the first time he’s talked to her, and shakes her head softly, “Modest as always. Send the lads my love.”
“I missed you,” he tells her. And it spills from his tongue so quickly, before he could even think about it. She needed to know, somehow, that he couldn’t shake her off his mind. He played for her, wrote for her and of her. And sometimes, when he woke up in the middle of the night he swears he could feel her shadow brush his hand, he hoped and prayed to whatever God that was making him feel so incredibly homesick, that she’d been listening to the songs he’d written.
He could only hope that she’d understand the undertone of his words.
She looks at him with this look that seems to pierce through time, reaching back into the past, unwanting to let go. Then, there was this beat of silence; one long enough for him to hear everything that had been left unsaid.
She looks at him, her honey-laced lips slightly parted. “Do you want to come in?” She sounds hesitant as she steps aside, letting him through.
He nods as he follows her in.
The house felt achingly familiar, yet everything felt and seemed different. The walls were the same colour, and the couch that had always looked somewhat old still stood in the exact same place it had four years ago, with new cushions adorning it. The air felt thicker. She always had that effect on him, he supposes.
“Tea?” she offers, a smile playing on her lips, as she leads him into the kitchen.
“Always,” he replies, trying to keep his voice steady.
She turns her back to him to make tea and he feels like he’s missing her all over again. He’s watching her move, taking the tea kettle and suddenly he’s sixteen again, when he’d brought James, Sirius and Pete here because they’d had run into trouble with the police—well, admittedly, it was just James and Sirius, but the four boys had never failed to stick together—and the first thing she’d asked them when she saw all four of them at her doorstep late at night is if they’d like some tea.
“How long are you staying?” she asks, back still turned. “A few weeks,” he says, “Got a bit of a break before the next tour.”
When she handed him a cup, he noticed how even her arms and the tips of her fingers had changed. She looks good, beautiful. 
“So, how’s life been?” she asks, taking a sip.
“Busy,” he replies, “Touring, recording, writing. It’s a lot, but it’s what I love.”
“I’ve been listening to your music,” she admits when he sips her tea. It’s exactly how he likes it. “It’s good, Remus. Really good.”
Remus looks down at his shoes, “Thank you,” then, “I’m sorry.”
She frowns, “What for?” “For leaving,” his voice, barely a whisper, “for everything.”
“Oh, Remus,” she sighs as she puts her cup down on the kitchen counter, “no, you had to go. It was your dream—I mean, look at you. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”
“I’ve missed you,” he says again. Because she had smiled at him the same way she did all those years ago in that pub.
And this time, she says it back.
They spent the rest of the day talking and, at times reminiscing, catching up on their lives, and it felt like no time had passed, like they were the same two kids who had believed in forever. As the sky turned dark, and the light from the lamp in the living room spilt against the floors of her house, she had looked at him—that same look she had always given him five, six years ago before asked him, quietly:
“Will you stay?”
Remus smiles, his heart full, “For as long as you’ll have me.”
Anyway, don’t be a stranger
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likes and reblogs r appriciated! <3 also i just learned what a taglist is,, so lmk if u wanna be included in my remus one :D
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visionsofmagic · 1 year ago
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⋆ ― ◜week of celebs◝ ― ⋆
DAY FOUR: christian bale x f!reader
previous | masterlist | next  
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• summary: it is the third movie you and chris playing together in, and it is last time he can hide his love for you. | wc: 1.5k | tags&warnings: fluff, kissing, confessing, touching, gentle!bale, reader is kind of a brat, co-workers, friends to lovers, young-adult!bale, mentions of a little nsfw content, short. [also, so so sorry for waiting for the ‘week’ thing but I had three important tests to take and I had to study :/ but now, I have no test left so, I’m back and the other works will be on soon! Enjoy. ^^]
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“Isn’t it amazing that we can work together once again?” You ask, not trying to get an answer but just pointing the fact you think of while waiting for the next scene to be filmed. Chris only nods, something isn’t right with him but you guess it is because he has a remarkable role in the movie, requiring great deal of attention and focus, and you know very well how he wants to show his best every time. You admire his hard-working. He is like a model for you – also, a dear friend.
Maybe you want to become more than a dear friend but you are afraid how he will react, so, you let it go, only focusing on the friendship you two have – a beautiful friendship; he loves making you happy, you like seeing him in peace thanks to your presence, support and fun kisses on the cheeks. You think whether it makes him feel awkward with these kisses even though he never complains. It is just a thing you both share like the sharing of food, memories, smiles, cries and even the bed –in the nights – and sometimes daylights too – when the air fills up with sadness, happiness, exciting – oh, you think inside, maybe we share a lot.
“Hey,” You hear his voice. Coming to your senses – back to reality, you wink a few times, looking up to see Bale kneeling to the front, his gazes on your face, wondering what make you daydream for a moment. “Are you okay?” He asks and you can see concern in his face expression, making you want to just grip his cheeks, caress them and saying how much you realize you love him, especially after the memories you share with him come to your mind. However, you can’t. So, with a sad smile on your face, you nod, not caring whether he can tell the truth behind your smile.
Putting a childish kiss on his nose, you say, “Better than okay!”
The moment he is about to ask another question, his personal assistant comes, saying that the screen is about to start to both of you. Nodding to her, you get up as Bale straightens his posture, hands on his pockets.
Hugging him from the arm, you giggle with excitement. Pulling him with you, you say, “I am so excited! In this scene, I will throw a glass to you.”
“I didn’t think you like violence.” He remarks, one of his hand positions on yours – a true gentleman who makes your heart go weak in a second.
“I am not,” Turning to him, to tease, you chuckle. “Well, if it is outside the bed.”
He stops in his track for a moment before coughing in fake, staring to walk again. As you look at his side profile – a perfect sight to see with his sharp jaw, freshly trimmed beard, short hair – you wait him to be shy like always because being such a brat, you like to make him shy and blushing but not today, apparently, not today. He smirks instead of showing any sight of shyness, telling you to be more sensible – he just smirks, turning to your face, making you look at another way to hide your heat rushing to your face. Kneeling, his hot breaths find your ear, whispering dangerously, “What a nasty girl!” He chuckles lowly – you are already weak on the knees. “Maybe you just need a good lesson to understand why you shouldn’t talk in public so openly like this.”
When the director calls for him from the other side of the room, he is about to touch your chin. Nodding to himself, he lets you go after saying, “Don’t worry, I will teach it properly this time.”
You feel like he is finally let his inner voice to take actions instead of his logical side. You chuckle, taking your place on the room, still feeling drunk, and avoiding gazes from Bale. He is sure something else today.
“Then, he was right behind me! Can you imagine?” One of my co-workers says with a chuckle, playing with her hair, and telling a story about the director. Chuckling, I nod to her.
After the end of today’s scenes, everybody agreed on taking a break time, having a little fun in one of actors’ house. So, here you are, standing beside the window, a drink on your hand, a black dress covers your body. It was a choice of your personal assistant after she found out that you liked Bale and he was going to attend as well. She said how you looked gorgeous in the dress, getting you all blushing, thinking how Bale would react.
This thought on your mind, you turn to other side of the room, trying to find where Bale is right now in a crowded place like this one is but when you are about to give up, you see him; he looks so humble and gentle with the black suit on him while entering the room. You look at him from head to toe, no shame behind your gazes but you don’t care, not when his gazes find yours, only focusing on you and making his way to you slowly. You nearly become breathless at the sight. Feeling brave enough to make an attempt like he is doing, you turn and say your co-worker goodbye, approaching to Bale faster than he does.
Finally, meeting in the middle, you say after an awkward long silence in which you look into his beautiful eyes and he does the same for you, “Hi.”
He chuckles in a low tone, “Hi,” He takes your hand in his, putting a kiss on the head of it. You would hate it when other men do it but when he does it – oh, how it feels so right and magical when he does it. “Gorgeous.”
Smiling widely, you roll your eyes, taking back your hand from his slowly only to put it on his shoulder, making him tense but you get it is a good sign since his smile grow bigger, closing the gap between your bodies further, causing you to forget what you would say for a moment. He smells so good – he looks so good – everything about him is near to perfection.
“Don’t look too much or you will fall hard for me.” You tease him, winking and when you take a sip from your drink, you feel his one hand find your waist, pulling you closer until his lips touching your ear, hot breaths hitting your neck. Heat rising inside of your body as well as outside and you only stare at his beautiful blue eyes.
“You should warm me sooner,” He smirks, not a playboy type of smirk – just, showing how he knows his effects on you now. “I already have fallen for you – hard.”
“Chris –“ You try to say, try to comprehend what he really means by that. “So, you say –“ You can’t find yourself powerful enough to say it aloud but Chris is there for you. He knows you better than you know yourself.
So, when he takes your hand on his, not caring about other people on the room, you follow him because you always will follow him no matter what.
Entering in an empty room, he reaches to his balcony, still holding your hand – tighter than before, giving you goosebumps. He turns around to see you clearly under the light of the moon and garden’s white lights.
“Yes, I say it.” He says, and you trying to make his words since your mind is overflowed by the sudden emotions he is causing.
“What?” You ask once more, wanting to hear it aloud – wanting him to admit it while using his words.
He chuckles once more – oh, he is surely happy right now and you are the same. Putting both of his on your waist, he pulls you to himself, making his chest hitting yours. “I love you,” He says and you believe you would fall into the ground if he didn’t hold you like this. He takes your hand, putting it on his chest where his heart remains. “I love you so deeply that I can no longer hide it.”
Taking deep breaths, you firstly understand his words – already having effects on you; chest rising and falling, hands getting sweaty and face has a stupid smile on – then, you close your eyes, and open them only to see that he is real. This make him smile, shaking his head. “I am real.”
“But, I need to do something to believe it, Chris.” You say.
His one eyebrow rises and you take action without waiting for him to speak; your lips find his, his taste flows into yours, a hand on his collar to pull him closer and other one enters into his short hair. He, on the other hand, nearly moans lowly into the kiss you share right now, hands on your waist getting tighter, hugging you strongly.
You know from this day everything will change between you – the relationship you have but you have no fear, not when he kisses you so deeply, passionately and holding you close. You wonder how he both is your weakness and strength. However, your mind can’t make any judgement since it only focuses on him – breaking the kiss for a moment before he adds, “I love you.” once again and you giggle.
“I love you too handsome.”
The end. 💌
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spindlewoed · 2 years ago
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["Homo-sexual underground" internalized]
NEW TASK: Talk to the smoker again (optional)
***
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Hello there, Gendarme.” The man offers you another one of his honeyed smiles, “I have to say, something feels different about you. Are you done with your twenty-hour mind project?”
As a matter of fact, I am.
Not really, I’d like to talk about something else.
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His eyebrows rise minutely, “*Beautiful*. And what was your conclusion, if I may ask?”
EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] — He’s genuinely curious. 
It helped me have a little bonding moment with my case partner over here (point to Kim).
A waste of eight hours of my time. Don't think I gained anything from it. On multiple levels.
It was a very immersive thought process, very educational. I feel closer to the plight of the underground community now. I think you guys should form some sort of union.
I’m really not sure…
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant gives you a stern look before you can say more.
AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] — It is not your place to disclose my personal information, *officer*.
YOU — shut your mouth instantly.
It helped me have a little bonding moment with my case partner over here (point to Kim).
A waste of eight hours of my time. Don't think I gained anything from it. On multiple levels.
It was a very immersive thought process, very educational. I feel closer to the plight of the underground community now. I think you should form some sort of union.
I’m really not sure…
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He hums, contemplative. “Well of course. A measly day wouldn’t be enough time to comprehend the scope and grandeur of the *homo-sexual underground*, obviously.” He smiles again, his heart shaped lips almost breaking into a grin.
“But do tell, Gendarme. Indulge me. Have you thought about where you stand on the matter?” 
Couldn’t be me. I'm not one of those.
I’ve stopped obsessing over my sexuality, I’m afraid there’s no going back to thinking about it. That would be another eight hour project. Twelve if I’m honest.
[Electrochemistry - Heoric 15] Look for clues in your past. Try to remember.
[CHECK SUCCESS]
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Looking like a dust covered film, your memory slowly unravels in your mind. A young man, just like yourself. He’s taller than you by an inch or so. Slightly muscular, round figure. Kind eyes. An explosion of electricity travels all over your body as he places a casual hand on your lower back. No one else in the room seems to notice. Later, you’re in the janitor's closet, and small talk concerning your shared students turns into hit after hit of oxytocin as he kisses you. You don’t remember his name.
YOU — “Does it count if it was once, in a closet?”
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His eyes widen then he laughs, suddenly and openly.
DRAMA [Medium: Success] — He’s only making fun of you a *little* this time, sire. He's positively *delighted*.
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Forgive me, gendarme. It’s always a pleasure talking to you." He composes himself, leaning back against the bricks. "But to answer your question - yes. I believe it counts.”
No, there’s no way. Forget I said anything.
Ok…
SMOKER IN THE BALCONY — He nods, waiting for you to reach a conclusion.
YOU — "Ok. But that was the past. How do I know that this is me, now?"
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He takes a drag of his cigarette while studying your face. As he exhales, his smile returns to his face like it never left.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] — He smiles a lot when you're talking to him. It’s a warm, smooth shot of dopamine every time.
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “That’s up to you to figure out." He flicks the ash off his cigarette with his slender fingers. He adds, lightly: “But feel free to give me a call once you do, officer.” He winks.
Oho?
Uhu?
Ogh?
[Savoir Faire - Godly 16] Try to come up with something a little bit more eloquent.
[CHECK FAILURE]
YOU — (whisper) "Awooga…"
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Pardon?”
KIM KITSURAGI — "Detective," the lieutenant interjects mercifully, "perhaps it's best we get back to the case, yes?"
YOU — "Yeah, I gotta go. See you. I mean, yeah. Bye."
SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He chuckles, waving his fingers goodbye. “See you around, Gendarmerie.”
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1singulargrape · 8 days ago
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This post has been living in my head ever since I saw it and what was supposed to be a prompt I wanted to store in my drafts ended up writing itself. Hope you enjoy!
Yuuji walks in to Sukuna sitting on the porch. His back is turned to the young man, something taking all of his attention.
Yuuji approached and understood immediately: it's a small ball of white with patches of orange and black spread around its fur. The kitty looked to be old enough to be weaned but still small; a few months old at best.
It was rubbing its head along Sukuna's hands, purring loudly. It meows needily when the caresses start to slow down and receives some chin scratches for it. If Yuuji had looked at Sukuna's face at that moment he could have caught the laughter in his eyes.
"I didn't know you liked cats". Yuuji sat beside him and brought his hand to the bite size lawnmower in front of them. The kitty sniffed at his fingers before rubbing itself with more fervor, demanding affection from the newcomer.
"...I never said I didn't." Sukuna's right eyes didn't leave the critter as he turned to look at Yuuji. "Besides, she's the one that dared to approach me. I had to at least entertain her bravery," he ran a finger down the kitten's spine, scratching the base of her tail; her butt wiggled with the movement. She tried turning around for more headpats but the hand had already retreated. "And she reminds me of you."
Yuuji turned to look at the other man "I don't see the resemblance."
"Watch."
Sukuna brought one of his hands to the kitten's face with his index finger extended. The kitty looked at it as if she had never seen it before and tried sniffing it, but before she could complete her investigations the finger moved and quickly pressed between her eyes. She went cross-eyed and blinked her big green eyes, hears perked up, while retracting her neck; she landed on her butt, bewilderment evident on the feline's face.
Yuuji wasn't impressed. He moved his hand under the cat and lifted it to his torso, "How does that remind you of me."
But while Yuuji was looking at his furry friend to make sure she was comfortable in his arms, a finger suddenly appeared in his vision, the boy went cross-eyed for a moment and when it left he blinked, once, having leaned back without noticing.
Before the embarrassment could catch up to him he wanted to berate his companion, but the words died out in his throat when he heard...
A soft chuckle made him look to his right and he saw Sukuna, smiling, his chest stuttering to the rhythm of his laughter. His face was relaxed yet happy, without any hint of malice or mockery. He was simply having fun, albeit to Yuuji's expense, but the younger man had never seen his companion so openly content before.
All of Yuuji's annoyance disappeared, and he smiled softly.
When he saw Yuuji's face, Sukuna went silent and his expression morphed back to his usual neutral frown.
"What are you looking at brat?" came the delayed question.
"Nothing. I'm just happy to see you." Yuuji was still holding the kitten who was trying to grab the collar of his shirt. The small claws were sharp but he paid it no mind.
"So, what's her name?" he asked, pulling free a claw that was stuck in the fabric.
"Cat."
"Cat?"
"Yes, until further notice." Sukuna placed an arm behind Yuuji and leaned towards him. He brought a hand closer and started playing with Cat again. The kitten was on her back and fiercely answered all of the man's "attacks" with vigorous biting and scratching. Although she could never do any real damage, Sukuna soon retreated, abdicating for now.
He was still leaning on Yuuji's shoulder when the other spoke up, "With the name you gave yourself, I thought you'd be a bit more talented at this." Cat was trying to paw his face now. "Even I could come up with a better name."
Sukuna narrowed his eyes at him for a moment. He then scoffed and stood up, "I highly doubt that."
He picked up a plate Yuuji hadn't noticed before, it was empty save for a few fishbones. "For now go walk our little guest. And buy more fresh fish and meat while you're at it." A small pause. "No canned food, her palate is far too refined for that processed junk," he added with disdain.
Yuuji frankly doubted that a stray that probably lived off vermin and thrown leftovers and was most likely infected with some kind of parasite would mind, but he addressed another issue first.
"You don't walk a cat? They just do their thing and you clean up after them." Cat was trying to jump out of Yuuji's arms. She was looking at the plate Sukuna was holding, forgetting she emptied it earlier. To emphasize her point she started meowing at him.
"I will not lower myself to pick up animal waste, and I better not find anything staining this propriety, so you take care of it." He punctuated his sentence by turning around and heading towards the living room.
"Sure Your Highness. Anything else this lowly servant could do for you?"
Yuuji didn't actually expect the other man to stop. Sukuna turned around and leaned against the doorway, bringing a hand to his chin thoughtfully, "She'll need a place to sleep. Don't get one of those plastic baskets, a fluffy pillow seems more appropriate. As for the bowls I'll accept ceramic or glass. Do whatever you want with the litter, so long as it doesn't smell."
And with that he disappeared inside before Yuuji could protest being made into the errand boy again.
...well, he did ask.
Yuuji stood up with a huff. He held Cat in front of him and she only stared back with her big empty eyes, "It's always like that with him, he does whatever he wants and leaves the gross part to me. But don't worry, I'll make sure he learns how to take good care of you too." Yuuji flashed a beaming smile towards Cat who showed no reaction, then sighed and went back to petting her. She seemed to have spent a lot of energy already and would hopefully rest in Yuuji's front pocket.
He headed towards the entrance making a mental list of everything Sukuna asked and a few extra things that will come in handy. He'll have to go to an animal store for good quality products. And book a visit to the vet. An unexpected spending for sure but thinking about Sukuna's smile and laughter earlier told Yuuji it was worth it.
///
Late in the night, Yuuji was heading back to his (empty) bed after getting some water.
Sukuna had been holed up in his study all evening with Cat doing god-knows-what.
Since he already knew sleep would not come back to him easily, he decided it wouldn't hurt to take a peek inside the room.
His companion was was sitting on the floor (again?) with Cat's head peeking out from behind his frame. She was sound asleep on his thigh, her soft purring barely reaching Yuuji's ears.
Brand new toys were littered around the room and sheets of paper surrounded of the man, all with lines upon lines of ink with what looked like annotations and crossed out words. He tapped the end of a brush on his knee, and another hand was near his head. Although Yuuji couldn't see his face, he knew he was deep in thoughts.
Yuuji smiled and headed back to their bed knowing he would most likely spend the rest of the night alone.
After all, choosing a name for his first daughter was something Sukuna would do with the upmost care.
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grasshopperdoingdogpaddle · 5 months ago
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Omi! You did it!
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Yes! We make an even better team than just me!
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But now that we have fought as one, how will we ever battle again?
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I'm sure we will find a way.
Omi refusing to take credit for this alone because he was so happy that this was something he accomplished together with Chase Young.
Omi just openly admitting that he has so much fun fighting with Chase, that he enjoys being at Chase's side so much more than standing against him, that he wants to be able to keep working together with Chase so much that it will be sincerely difficult to imagine going back to the way things normally are as enemies. Omi's done temporary alliances before, but he's never left one feeling quite this conflicted.
And Chase, already formulating his plan to split his soul in two and have him vow by the words he's already practically spelling out right now, just biting his tongue for now and finding the vaguest way to say "…Well, that can be arranged."
This little conversation nicely caps off everything else that happened between these two in Dangerous Minds.
Omi leaping to Chase's side at the first sign of danger, the proud smiles Chase gives Omi, Omi and Chase fighting back-to-back with everything Chase had taught him, the "you are most amazing"s. They've been growing closer for a long while, but this was their first time getting to work together without worrying about careful distance and boundaries they maintain.
Courtesy of @gravity-what:
Omi: Now that we have fought as one, how will we ever battle again? Chase, internally: You could always just join me already. The offer is always extended for you. Then we can always fight as one. You already chose me, when you could have come to anyone's side but chose mine. Have you already forgotten? Because I haven’t. Didn’t you have fun on this little adventure, Omi? Didn’t you enjoy your first taste of freedom? Your first taste of true battle? Your first taste of torture? Surely now you must be ready to swear your loyalty to me? Chase, externally: ...We will find a way.
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Seconds prior, Chase was just sulking and glaring in his own little corner of the raft, bitter about the monks happily reuniting. Something Chase flatly says he sees as "a nauseating display".
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But after this little exchange with Omi, he's visibly struggling to hold back another smile at Omi in this little blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, right before he vanishes. Omi's words definitely struck a chord.
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regulus-rietveld · 5 months ago
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BLACK BROTHERS
(realistically speaking)
Pre-Hogwarts!Sirius who loves his brother so much that he takes the blame for everything (including things he didn't do) but also slightly envies Regulus because he has someone to protect him.
Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who doesn't understand that his family is abusive and hates Sirius because his cousin Bella said, "the more harsh your parents are, the more they love you."
Pre-Hogwarts!Sirius who gets his Hogwarts letter and the first thing he feels is guilt because he has to leave his Reggie here.
Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who feels happy that Sirius is leaving because now he'd get his parents' attention.
Young!Sirius who is dead scared when he gets sorted into Gryffindor because- what would his parents say? But the crazy-haired boy he met briefly on the train, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and calls him an icon. And Sirius thinks that maybe it's not too bad.
Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who speaks back to his mother because he's seen Sirius do it but gets slapped. And suddenly, he wants his Sirius back.
Young!Sirius who receives a howler first thing the next morning and is terrified of opening it but James Potter sets it on fire and Sirius feels overwhelmed. He cries alone in the bathroom because he's finally gotten what he's always wanted. Someone to protect him.
Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who reads Sirius' first letter, scowling at the number of times he sees the same name over and over. James said that. James did this. And Regulus is jealous of said James. He writes to Sirius but doesn't mention his parents' new attitude.
Young!Sirius who's so busy revelling in the new feeling of having a family and fun that his weekly letters to his Reggie becomes monthly. He's not ignoring his brother, but he just doesn't have the time anymore.
Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus notices how scarce the letters have become and is so fed up of seeing 'James' over and over again that he stops reading the letters but doesn't stop expecting them.
Young!Sirius who is shocked when James openly reads his mother's letters to him and the letters are so... nice. He could feel the affection rolling off of the words and it's something he's never felt before and in that moment he decides to take on James' request to go to Potter Manor for Christmas. He writes to Regulus and apologizes and promises to compensate.
Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who didn't read the letter and wasn't informed by his parents that Sirius won't be coming home, goes to his estranged uncle Alphard and begs to take him to the platform to surprise Sirius only to wait for three hours and return heartbroken and absolutely crushed.
Young!Sirius who's flabbergasted when Euphemia hugs him in the station in front of everyone because growing up he was told to not display affection in public. He swears he sees his brother for a moment but then Fleamont pats him on the back with a warm grin and the thought has passed.
Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who reluctantly reads the letters and feels a wave of warmth because he says- Dear Reggie, I've missed you so much. He smiles because it almost feels like his brother is here, talking to him and hugging him saying that they'll be fine. But then his smile drops immediately when he reads that Sirius will be staying at James' and Merlin does that make him angry.
SHOULD I WRITE A PART TWO???
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inkyquince · 1 year ago
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08: Trick or Treatin’ Daddio (Part 1)
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characters. Bailey. Featuring a hint of Robin.
cw. Nothing yet, it's the first part to Bailey being the absolute worst to the reader. Mentions of bullying from Bailey and creepy behavior from Eden. Robin being a little guy. Next part will feature noncon, anal, and very very very mean Bailey, but that's for the actual Spooky Day.
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Halloween was always one of your favorite times of year. Ever since you were young, you had looked forward to October more than any other month, more than your own birthday. Your parents always found that adorable, how at the start of August, you were already planning your costume and the decorations, the same way people prepared for Christmas. 
You remembered also being teased for this, especially by a pointed face boy who openly mocked you whenever you were in earshot, to his gargantuan friend who just watched you closely and creepily. When you got older and remained in love with the holiday, he went from mocking you for being childish to snapping at your waistbands and your ribs, sneering that you could at least dress slutty if you were going to be an eyesore. His tall friend just continued to watch. One of your blessings these days was that you never ever saw Bailey around that much, too swept up in God knows what. That and Eden disappeared a few years after graduating, no longer around to suddenly appear behind you when you turned around, or staring at you from across the room, or, you swear, following you home. 
Now you could just thrive, known as the best person on the block to go for the actual fun sized chocolates and sweets, the funnest decorations, everything. Hell, that’s how you met the kid. 
Robin was practically herding some of the younger orphans around, shyly talking to their friend the entire time but they brightened at the sight of you. Hell, he liked to hang out with you just normally, happily staying for dinner and asking your advice on crushes. It was adorable, and some parental instincts you never knew you had kicked in. To the point he shyly asked if you would ever think about adopting him, maybe even their friend, who always seemed so much busier and constantly on the move. 
You promised him that you’d think about it and he in turn said he’d bring it up to his caretaker. 
Speaking of Robin, you were eagerly awaiting him to swing by, having promised to set up some of the extra decorations. He was always so timely, so you didn’t care that he was so late when the knock finally came, but your smile was wiped from your face when you finally did open the door. 
Bailey. Standing right before you. With his tattooed hand clamped onto Robin’s shoulder, so tight you could see the crinkles of his shirt pulled taut. Worst of all, Bailey looked great. He had grown into his pointy rat face, muscles pressing against the rolled up sleeves of his shirt, tattoos stark against his skin. You even wish you could call his slicked back hair greasy looking but it just didn’t. 
“Hey, stranger.” Bailey’s thin lips spread into a sneer, similar to the ones he would shoot you so long ago. 
Underneath his grip, Robin swallowed, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes. His eyes flickered to the door again and again, specifically focusing on where your hand rested on the handle. Beseeching you, but for what? You already knew Bailey was just a bully, but he couldn’t be that bad. 
“Hey Bailey.” You finally greeted back, opening the door a bit more. “What’s-” 
“Our little Robin mentioned you to me the other day. Almost couldn’t believe that you were still hanging around this dump.” Bailey interjected, his grip tightening on the orphan’s shoulder. “Thought we could have a sit down and discuss our next few steps, hm?” 
You brightened and the caretaker’s grin sharpened before glancing down at Robin once more. 
“Go back to the others.” He loosened his grip and jerked his head down the street, where a small group of children were waiting, wide eyed. 
Robin looked between you two, his breaths coming fast and in shaky puffs before he jutted his chin out, as if defiant. 
“I wanna stay. It’s important to me too, right?” 
Bailey stared down at him before glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, and something darkened in his eyes. He leaned down, almost nose to nose with the boy and whispered, low, just to him. 
“Fuck. Off.” 
That’s all it took for the orphan’s courage to crumble down into dust and he turned on his heel, heading back towards the group. Meanwhile, Bailey straightened up and smiled at you again, nasty and off putting. 
“Now, shall we?”
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elitadream · 11 months ago
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Ok, I have one last question regardig the babies, sort of anyway, How would everyone react to seeing an adult Jr?
Ooh, that's a fun one to imagine! ☺️🩵
They would recoil in shock upon seeing this large beast suddenly appearing around the corner and barreling towards them at high speed; their instant feeling of alarm relenting somewhat upon seeing the huge grin on his face and the sincere joy in his eyes.
"Mario!!"
Before the man could react or even process this new development, he would be swept up right off the ground by two massive paws and squished in a strong bear hug, wheezing from the pressure.
"It's so good to be able to do this for once!" The creature would exclaim, happily swinging him back and forth in his crushing hold. His voice -pleasantly deep and amicable, yet unmistakably familiar- would have Mario blinking incredulously in recognition.
"Junior??" He would rasp, hardly able to breathe. The Koopa would finally release him, still smiling broadly, and it would only be then that Mario would note how strikingly similar he looks to Bowser. Behind them, Luigi and Peach would also stare in amazement.
"Can you believe it? Now I'm just like my papa!"
The prince would strike a regal pose for good measure, his merriment however dissipating rather swiftly as he would hum and join his hands in front of himself in thought; a hint of his usual self reflecting starkly in his sheepish demeanor. "Too bad it's only temporary though..."
"You- But- What- How's that possible??" Luigi would stammer out loud, visibly dumbfounded.
"I, uh... took Kamek's wand while he was asleep," Junior would say, shuffling his feet bashfully. There would be a stunned silence before he would hastily add, "B-but I made sure to put it back where I found it before anyone noticed! He usually keeps it under lock and key. I just wanted to try it, that's all! Besides, the age inducing spell only lasts about an hour, so... I'll be a kid again very soon."
His enthusiasm would deflate entirely with his statement, and Mario couldn't help but shake his head with a fond chuckle at that. Peach and Luigi would follow suit, sharing an amused look.
"What's so funny?" Junior would ask, frowning confusedly.
"You seem to think of that as a bad thing," Mario would answer. "As though this older version of you is better."
While explaining himself, he would step forward and maintain Junior's gaze, his expression warm and indulgent.
"And fair enough, it's indeed incredible... I'm looking at you and- I feel so proud. But that's only because of who you already are. Child or not, it doesn't matter. You're amazing, and I know that you have a bright future ahead of you. I'm only glad I got to see a small glimpse of it today."
Junior's astonishement would morph into deep thankfulness and delight as he would promptly embrace him again; albeit more gently this time.
"Thank you," he would murmur, giving the man a meaningful squeeze.
Mario would take a moment to marvel at how big and robust and majestic his young friend has temporarily become, openly welcoming the fantastic surrealness of the moment. As for Luigi and Peach, they would similarly admire the stark change in Junior's appearance; however knowing full well that it will only be a matter of time before they see him like this again. ^-^ 💫
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marbeeowl · 12 days ago
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a short story dedicated to this picture
--------------- - Well, how many times have I told you that they will dump you?
The black-haired guy exhaled indignantly and irritably. His already perpetually gloomy face became even darker. Dima Ternov, ternovik, devil, that's what the others called him. And he matched with his nicknames. His sharp tongue was both his friend and enemy, and the whole gloomy and dark appearance of that guy repelled, as if saying "Don't come near - it will kill you". He always knew that pioneering was stupid, that there were no friends there, that everything there was as hypocritical as in any "firm". Yes, everyone work together, help each other in small things, but no one is really friends there. So he believed in his opinion, he saw the confirmation of his point of view.
- And they didn't dump me at all...Big deal, they forgot at the bus stop..I'll go to the museum next time. What I didn't see there..
He was answered by a blond boy wearing a newspaper man's cap in the English manner, who walked next to him with a frustrated, but not discouraged look. Philip Pirronov, or as he was affectionately called sometimes, Philya, was the complete opposite of Dmitry in every sense. Always cheerful and polite, a young pioneer, proud to wear his red tie. He piously believe that pioneering was honorable, that all pioneers were good and responsive, despite the fact that his "friends" from the same brigade made fun of him. Is he too kind and trusting? Definitely. Did he realize that he had been made a kind of punching bag? Definitely not. They might have been tolerant of him, but they always dumped him to the rough work. However, Philip never complained and, on the contrary, was proud that he could do something useful. And what a surprise it was that such a simpleton would be able to make friends with almost an enemy of the pioneer party, who openly called it all nonsense. Although at first it was difficult to call it friendship. Dima just made an errand boy out of him, give-and-bring something, nothing more. Over time, he began to stand up for him. And now, taking him by the hand and carrying his briefcase along with his own, he accompany him home. Dima sometimes wondered himself: why was he so soft? Why does he get into fights for this fool? Why is he comforting when Philip has once again become the one on whom all the dogs are unleashed even though he has done nothing wrong? Neither Ternov nor Pirronov himself knew. However, even though Dima grumbled about it, he did not regret anything.
- You're a fool. How many times have I told you that? - Five in a day, probably.. - So I'll tell the sixth: You're an idiot. Someday I'll leave you and figure it out on your own, until you realize with your empty little head that I'm right.
The blond boy just smiled, letting out a short laugh. He was used to Ternov's sarcasm and sometimes it seemed funny to him. Philya raised his eyes, blue as the summer sky, at him, looking at him with the same cheerful sparkle in them.
- Did you not join the pioneers so as not to be in my place, or because you didn't want to, huh? - Maybe. ---------------
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it-happened-one-fic · 18 days ago
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Hours in the Moonlight: Guileful Nightfall - 9. Chained
Summary: A stroll with Jamil through the Scarabia clan after what had happened the last time was certainly daunting. But it was also an opportunity you might not come across again. Who knows what you might be able to learn about the strange young man with just a little conversation.
Series Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Vampire AU/ series/ romantic/ angst/ angst with comfort/ fluff/ sfw/ platonic interactions too!
Trigger Warning: Vampire
Word Count: 2249
Hours in the Moonlight Master-List
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I followed Jamil back to the library in silence, my mind rolling around various plans for what exactly it was I needed to do.
I wanted to figure out exactly what it was he wanted; I needed to figure out more about this entire insanity business with vampires and do the job Crowley sent me to do, but finally, and most importantly, I needed to keep myself safe while also making sure Vil, Rook, and Epel stayed out of this ordeal. Because heavens knew that if they involved themselves, this definitely would turn into even more of a mess.
My gaze flickered up so that I was looking at the young man’s athletic looking back. I supposed it was best to start the source.
I didn’t get to say anything before Jamil spoke though, his voice low and tinged with curiosity, but with a distinct undercurrent of measured self-control. Like he was trying to keep me from catching on to some sort of secret he held, “You said Kalim had made the Al-Asim clan seem like a wonderful place. What did he tell you?”
I felt my eyebrows rise at his words, but I answered him nonetheless. Slipping forward so that I stood alongside him and could better watch his reactions, “He described it as a fun place and said that your family was part of the clan, just like his.”
Jamil’s expression remained fairly neutral, and his eyes stayed on the path ahead of us as people shifted out of our way as I watched him closely. 
A few vampires paused, staring at me for a little bit too long, but they would look away the very moment Jamil’s gaze shifted towards them. A slight frown crossing his face in a subtle warning that I wouldn’t have caught if I hadn’t been watching him quite so closely.
After a brief moment, I continued softly, pondering the fact that Jamil, of all people, was warning others off me with a single glance even though he was the one who’d hypnotized me.
 “Kalim also mentioned that the two of you left to see the world. He said you’d always wanted the freedom to travel and that, after his dad agreed, the two of you had left and come here.” 
Jamil’s gaze slid my way this time, a wry smile flickering across his face before he nodded, “Yes, I did….”
He looked away, but I frowned at the undertone to his voice that had me almost speaking again before I halted, barely catching his bitter words that were whispered under his breath, “I still do.”
I frowned in confusion, shaking my head slightly. I wanted to question him, but something told me that he hadn’t intended for me to hear his words. He would probably slither right out of my grasp if I openly asked him anyway.
Unlike Kalim, who seemed to be open about everything, the more I puzzled over Jamil, the more secrets he seemed to have.
He also seemed cunning, though. I highly doubted he would slip up and let me know just anything without having been caught in some sort of situation where he had no choice but to speak up.
Or…. Perhaps I could play at his game and ease him into telling me what I wanted to know.
I tilted my head as I glanced over at the young man, “There is something I’m still curious about though.”
Grey eyes shifted back over to where I walked beside him, and I resisted the urge to look away and break eye contact. 
If I started determinedly avoiding eye contact, he might get suspicious. I would just have to take my chances and pray I could predict when he was about to hypnotize me and look away from him then.
“If the Al-Asim clan was so wonderful…. Why did you want to leave it and travel to the point of agreeing to make another clan and living away from where your family is?”
I was careful, letting worry seep into my tone so that he wouldn’t suspect anything. 
I was just a casually concerned individual. Someone who wanted to help. Because something told me that the only way he might let something slip would be if he underestimated me. 
Besides, there were so many reasons for why Jamil might have wanted to leave. 
And I was sure it had to have been Jamil who had wanted to leave the Al-Asim clan. Because it was obvious from the way Kalim had talked, the way his eyes had glimmered so brightly when he’d spoken of them, that he had been happy at the Al-Asim clan.
Jamil though… He’d apparently wanted the freedom to travel and still did. So what was he wanting to get away from? And did it have something to do with his odd behavior?
At odds with my expectations, a smooth and distinctly cunning smile slid across the young man’s face, and he turned to look fully at me as we came to a stop just in front of the door to the library, “Sometimes when you're in a place of comfort, you can’t grow.”
His words weren’t entirely untrue, but something about them rang hollow. Like it was a well-recited excuse that he didn’t truly believe himself. Something more like an excuse rather than the genuine truth. 
An excuse that he veiled well with a handsome smile and unwavering eye contact that sparkled with a confidence that spoke of his own belief that he was wholly in control.
I held his gaze, though, before nodding with a quiet sigh, “Sometimes doing the uncomfortable does result in growth…” I trailed off, stepping closer to the door and turning to enter the room, my voice softening as I thought of my own experiences. 
How delving into the world of vampires had been beyond uncomfortable but had resulted in my understanding of vampires growing. Couldn’t there have been a better way though?
I shook my head slightly, a smile slipping across my face. Jamil probably wasn’t talking about anything similar to my experiences, but I couldn’t quite keep the words from slipping out of my mouth, “But sometimes that isn’t the best way for a person to grow.”
I grasped the doorknob, but I was stopped before I could even hardly think about opening the door when Jamil’s hand reached around and covered mine, halting my motions. 
I felt myself tense at both his proximity and the cool touch of his hand as he leaned around me. Holding me in place as he spoke in a quiet voice, “So you’ve experienced being chained down as well?”
I turned my head only slightly to look over at him, finding his face mere inches from my own as he stared at me, and I did my very best not to quail at how close he was. 
For all I knew, this could be some sort of elaborate ploy to gain more control over the situation.
Jamil did strike me as someone who liked to be in control after all. But his question….
 Had I experienced what it was to be chained? Evidently enough, he felt that he had, and maybe that was the real reason he’d wanted the ‘freedom to travel.’ But perhaps more importantly, maybe he still felt that way, and that had something to do with whatever was going on here at this clan.
I swallowed slightly, looking away from him and back towards the intricate carvings on the door, as if they could serve to calm my swirling mind despite the way my voice wavered, “Maybe?”
I shook my head, feeling steadily more confused by the second, but something told me it wasn’t hypnosis this time. I didn’t have that same sleepy, relaxed feeling. Instead, I was totally aware. It was just that my mind was swirling with the possibilities.
It could be argued that I was slightly chained by the fact that pretty much I had to do whatever Crowley wanted, but I hadn’t ever really thought of it that way, and I didn’t think that was the sort of chains Jamil meant.
Jamil’s grip on my hand shifted as he twisted the doorknob, his hand still covering mine the entire time as he pushed the door open. 
The door opened silently, and I felt his hand on my back, urging me forward and lightly pushing me into the room in one smooth motion.
I stepped into the room silently, glancing back at the young man as he followed me, turning only to push the door shut and blocking the line of vision of those who looked towards us. No doubt questioning exactly what was going on.
After all, from their perspective, it probably looked like Jamil had blocked me against a door. And I supposed, in some ways, he had. But it hadn’t felt exactly like he was trying to wall me in. Instead, it felt like he hadn’t wanted people to hear or see what we were discussing.
The door shut with a quiet click, and he turned, looking my way once more. His gaze swept over my frame, like he was sizing me up the same way he had the very second he’d first seen me.
I stood tall though. Facing him fully, determined not to shrink back even though I had no idea where I stood right this second as I swallowed thickly. Because it was perfectly obvious that Jamil was making some sort of decision right now. One that, if I wasn’t horribly mistaken, would probably have quite a bit of say about how things went over moving forward.
He at last spoke; his eyes snapping up to meet mine in an oddly abrupt fashion. As if he’d reached his decision, “Is it Vil?” 
His words confused me at first before I put two and two together. He was asking about who might have made me feel chained.
I shook my head hurriedly, my eyes widening at the mere implications of his words. Putting his words with what Leona had told me about thralls and what the vampires had assumed about my and Vil’s relationship, his meaning was obvious and perfectly horrifying.
“No! Never. Vil would never do something like that. We’re… he’s an ally of mine.” Jamil’s eyebrows rose at my words. But then, to be fair, it was a rather vehement rejection of what he’d said.
He only tilted his head though, causing his hair to slide in the same direction in a wave of glossy black, “Crowley then?”
His tone was flat and I stilled, causing him to let out a slight snort before I nodded, frowning slightly as I spoke, “I hadn’t ever really thought of it in exactly the terms of ‘chains’ but yes, I suppose you could call it that.” 
I crossed my arms, my stare turning more pointed as I held Jamil’s gaze from across the room, “What about you?”
His brows furrowed at my question, and he crossed his own arms before glancing off to the side with a scowl, “The Al-Asim’s.”
I felt my eyebrows rise, a subtle show of surprise as I uncrossed my arms and walked over, claiming a seat as I continued to watch him.
He glanced back my way, a bitter smile crawling its way onto his face, “You’re Crowley’s ‘Hunter,’ and executioner of sorts, I suppose?”
I nodded, confirming his words, and he straightened, his eyes narrowing, “I’m the Al-Asim’s servant. My entire family is.”
Everything seemed to come to a screeching halt as he continued in a soft, but perfectly embittered voice, “I’m Kalim’s guard, his caretaker…and his servant.”
I felt my eyes widen before I could stop myself from visually reacting, and, for a brief moment, I really didn’t know what to say. His words certainly explained things, such as his longing for the freedom to travel, but they definitely weren't what I’d expected from the way everyone here seemed to respect him.
“Then the others…” I trailed off, not even sure of exactly what I wanted to say as Jamil walked across the room.
He pulled a book off a shelf, scowling at it before he started stacking the volumes he selected in his arms while simultaneously speaking with a bitterness that only seemed to grow as he continued, “They respect me because I’m the one that handles running the clan. If I didn’t, we’d have to go back to the Asim’s. At least here I do have some freedom.”
I twisted in my seat, turning so I could keep my eyes on him, “And Kalim?” 
I felt a distinct growing worry for the young man who, from what I’d seen, didn’t seem to know anything about the bitterness that this young man, whom he thought of as a friend, held towards his family.
Jamil’s motions paused, and I could see the frown on his face. It wasn’t the same bitter expression. There was something more there. Something almost frustrated.
“Kalim is… Kalim.” He at last spoke, faltering slightly in the middle before he finished, and I frowned.
Did that mean he had mixed feelings towards Kalim? 
I watched him as he approached, setting the stack of books down in front of me. And his mask of an efficient young man slipped back onto his face as he drew closer to where I sat, “These books all hold information about the Al-Asim clan. You should be able to find some sort of evidence here.”
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mistresskayla-blog1 · 6 months ago
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Reclaiming Purity
Lyn's Writing Event Day 8
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May 8th: Week 2: Andromeda  (plant – Lily of the Valley – white bell shaped flowers in spring)
Characters: AU - Dr Mikhel Astrov x OC Cassandra   (18+)
Fandom: Richard Armitage – Plays – Dr. Astrov (Uncle Vanya)
Dr Mikhel Astrov character was created by Anton Chekhov in a play called Uncle Vanya
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: age play, angst, kissing, natural decay, smut,  
A young woman, with wavy brown hair is laying in a field, lily of the valley surrounding her in the warmth of the sunny spring. She ties up her hair from her face with a scrap of string from her bound books. Her journal lay open in the grasses, pencil holding its place among the pages. The breeze was warm and it smelled of flowers and blooming grasses.
Cassandra rolled back to her book, and started sketching again, the blooms of the flowers she was drawing blowing in the breeze. She sipped some water from a travel jug, and set the stopper back into the hole, making a suction sound. Birds chirped and flew overhead, playing in the afternoon breezes busy with their chores. Cassandra smiled up at the sun kissing her cheeks. When she brought this back to the Doctor, she knew he would be pleased. But would he be so pleased that he entertained more with her?
----
              Gripped by anguish Dr Astrov sits at his desk and weeps openly. The trees in his forest are dying, dying from some organism he cannot control. Mushrooms are creeping up all over the forest, bright red and shelf like at the base, indicating a rash of what the dendrologist called, “heart rot”.
He couldn’t believe it. He had worked months tirelessly with his assistant Cassandra replanting the fields and protecting the larger deciduous trees from this plight. Dr Astrov felt helpless and utterly broken. He pulled the cork out of the bottle on his table, and poured it into a glass, nearly overfilling it, then just gulped down the fruit bearing liquid directly, putting his lips to the bottle. He took a gasp as the brandy burned down his throat. And coughed a bit, rambling as Cassandra came into his study.
She moved the bottle as he went to grab it again, “mm No, that’s mine” Astrov slurred. Cassandra shook her head and took it across the room, “No, that’s enough. We cannot fix this issue with drinking. You know that doctor”. He smirked at her, “well then can we fix it with something more fun than drinking”. Cassandra smiled coyly, “Not, -- look what you have been doing to my notes, its all” she acted disgusted, as she cleaned off the desk and removed her journal from the desk. Dr Astrov turned to her as she wiped her journal off with her skirt.
“I was reading that”, Astrov said, growing slightly annoyed, “And I think you may be onto something”. Cassandra looked amused, “Oh, do you? Is that the brandy talking?” Astrov burped and stood up, “No, no, no look, look,” he snatched the book from her hand, “Its all in here, the way you drew the bells on this plant, if we let them grow around the bottom of the tree like a girdle, than maybe we can prevent the rot from even touching the root of the tree”.
Cassandra looked at him, with endearing grace, “I know that, I wrote it”.
Astrov looked at her, smiling broadly, “Its brilliant!” he grabbed her face between his hands, squishing her cheeks and placing a triumphant kiss on her pursed lips.
He dropped his hands straight away, and stepped clear of her, “I,… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that” he walked back over the desk, trying to busy himself with his papers, running his hand through his fallen brown locks.
Cassandra still a bit stunned, leaned against a bench and looked down a moment, “Its, fine, really” she tried to hold back a grin. She had wanted him to kiss her for a long time now. Cassandra had worked with the doctor, training under him for about 18 months now and this was the first time he had seriously touched her.  
Astrov turned back towards Cassandra, leaning against the desk, “I, just wanted to say, (looking at his feet, than back up to meet her gaze) I have really appreciated your help this past year, and all the work you are doing, trying to sort me out (he scratched the back of his neck, looking back at his desk)”. Cassandra nodded, “Of course, yes. I am honored to do it, Doctor. Really”.
Astrov looked at her, moving towards her again, “But, its not appropriate for me to take advantage of your; virtue and grace, when, I”  he trailed off, and held himself back from touching her, while Cassandra stood in suspense desperate for him to touch her.
“Doctor” Cassandra, “Mikhel?” 
Astrov looked at her, “my name on your lips sounds, (smiles) beautiful, Can I kiss you?”
Cassandra nodded.
Astrov moved towards her again, taking her face in his hands more gently, and when there lips met, the lightest brush of skin and heat to skin. They both held their breaths, then sighed gratefully into each other’s mouths. Astrov pulled her close with his hands around her waist. Cassandra’s hands moved into Astrov’s hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Astrov deepened the kiss in response, and then lead her back to the desk. He pivoted his body, carrying her against his chest, and boosting her into the desk. He swept things off of it with a crash of papers and tools, and leaned over the desk, kissing her neck and moving towards her skirts, her knees rising up.
---
Cassandra was panting and excited. After waiting so long, he was finally going to touch her, in the way she had been fantasizing about, been writing about (thankfully in a separate journal). Her head was swimming with thoughts and anticipation. Astrov continued his kisses, moving down her throat, and reaching for the buttons on her blouse, muffled he groaned into her breast, “You smell like those flowers”. Cassandra smiled, holding his head against her breast, “I’ve wanted you for so long,” she breathed.
Astrov came up from her cleavage, her blouse opening further, her belly exposed to the open air of his breath, “You… wanted me?” his voice was a question in between his heart thundering in his ears. Astrov looked over Cassandra, “The first day I saw you, I was hooked, and then you shared with me your mind, and your comfort, I… I never thought, I”. He kissed her passionately again, and Cassandra ran her fingers through his soft hair.
Cassandra spoke through her kisses, “I.. never.. thought.. you would..” Her hands digging into his hair deeper, as they kissed. Astrov kissed down her neck again, and into her soft and inviting cleavage. His beard tickled her soft sun kissed skin and she giggled. His lips trailed down her belly then, moving lower. Cassandra’s need was palpable, her core throbbed at his every touch.
“yes” she bid him, as he looked up at her again, heat in his eyes, as he moved to her skirts and moved them up against her thighs, his hands slowly moving in season with his lips. He started at her ankles and up the slope of her calf, and he nibbled behind her knee, and she let out a gasp, looking over the billow of her work skirt. He chuckled, “you liked that?”  She sighed a ‘yes’. And he continued onto her inner thigh, Cassandra’s breath gulped in a nervousness, and Astrov felt her tense. He paused, “I can stop, if your not,” he trailed off, resting his head against her thigh, seeing the curls damp against her knickers.
Cassandra whimpered, “I want you to,”
Astrov groaned under his breath, and licked the inside of her thigh, all the way up to her knickers. He scooped his hands under her bum and slid them down, discarding them casually on the floor, as he shifted onto his knees, and buried his face in her nubile curls. His breath toned husky, as he took in her scent and kissed her folds softly. Cassandra cried out at the delicateness of it. Astrov’s hands caressed her ass, and her thighs, moving in to touch her, but for now, he wanted to just taste her. Drink in her essence, his cock twitched in his trousers as her scent hit his sharp nose. He nudged his nose against her sensitive clit, and she moaned beautifully.
There she was spreadeagled on the desk, her skirt billowing over the Doctor, on his knees before her, in total submission to his cause. He moaned against her sex and licked playfully parting her sweet folds with his tongue. It played at her entrance, and pushed his way in a little, feeling her tightly wound around his tongue. His cock strained against fabric even more. He pulled her closer, deepening his kiss and his tongue into her core. Cassandra moaned a little louder, grinding against his face with her burning need. Her core was swimming in this sensation, wanting to build this over and over again. Cassandra was so excited she barely noticed the wave overcoming her. Astrov moved his tongue faster, and rubbed her clit with his thumb, strumming her along, knowing exactly how to make her complete her ascent into madness and relief, his breath against her mound, “Tell me..” he panted. Cassandra sat up on her elbows, pushing her skirt out of her way to look at him, “Please doctor, I want you inside me”. He smiled broadly and sucked on her clit, pushing his finger inside her, as he stood up, hunched over her and worked at getting his trousers off. She climaxed against his finger and he groaned in acceptance, pulling out slowly as she shuddered, her cunt wet and creamy now, ready for him.
Astrov teased at her entrance, stroking his cock in his hand, making it slick, at the tip. Cassandra mewed at him, her legs gripping at his hips, drawing him closer, “Easy, easy my dear,” he cooed back at her in his deeper voice. Astrov leaned down between her legs and kissed her mouth again, her flavor mixed with the brandy on his breath was intoxicating and she caressed his hair again, keeping him close. Astrov moved and pushed into her entrance, Cassandra gasped as the stretching of her flesh against his intrusion, had her seeing stars. Her pussy gripped his cock so tight, Astrov shuddered and gaffawed, sliding deeper, Cassandra’s tongue entered his mouth and danced with his. They were joined now, and their hearts thumped in unison. Astrov began to stroke into her slowly and shallowly, easing it in and out, she adjusted well and still she clung to him with limbs and cunt. His arousal was at its peak and he wanted to thrust faster and harder, but he steeled himself to continue to go slow, for her benefit.
Cassandra, panted against his ear, as he held steady, letting her pussy throb around his shaft,
“Please, please,” she begged, “Please more”.
Astrov did not hesitate, he sunk all the way in and she cried out her legs gripping him harder, her hands digging into his shoulders and hair. He shuddered again, “God, you feel so good,”
Cassandra smiled playfully, as she whispered against his beard, “harder”.
That pushed him over the edge and Astrov started to pump against her pressure, building them both to the summit, to the wave that would inevitably crash against both of them in bliss. The heat inside his loins was growing and growing. And inside her core, Cassandra was overwhelmed by all the sensations, her body simply reacting to his, and in righteous chorus of expletive joy.  Astrov kept at it, moving faster and faster, a little harder, and a little faster. Sweat was gathering at his brow, he tore his shirt open, and she clawed at his chest. He looked at her, deeply as he came close to his edge. Cassandra’s walls clamped down on him and he seized, pulling out quickly and spilling himself onto the floor. She clamped against the emptiness, for mere seconds, as his fingers slid into her and he pumped again and again as she shuddered over him.
Astrov dropped to his knees again and feasted on her, licking her clit and making her scream against her sleeve, biting down, as his fingers and tongue and lips just suspended her in utter pleasure. She shook on the desk, as he held her legs over his shoulders. His tongue quieted to languid licks against her folds, and peppered her thighs with kisses, before he replaced her skirts, and helped her up to a stand. He stood, above her, and kissed her sweetly on the mouth, his hands cradling her face again. Cassandra looked up at him with sleepy eyes. He smiled as he looked at her, “Such a treasure, I’m so glad to have the wonder of all of you, thank you, Cassandra”. Cassandra was still swimming in her waves, but she was stable in his arms, and that is what mattered. He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, lying down next to her, still half dressed, there limbs lying softly with each other. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheek, and finally her mouth. Her eyelids drooped heavier, and he whispered against her forehead, “Rest now”, in his soft and sultry voice.
Raspy and confused Cassandra mumbled up at him, “What.. what happens now?”
Astrov looked at her, “you mean with the trees?” 
Cassandra burbled up a giggle,
 Astrov smirked, “oh you mean with us,”
Cassandra nodded,
“Let’s just learn to grow together” Astrov smiled and kissed her again, gently. And held her close to him all night.
END?
Tag list:
@legolasbadass @middleearthpixie @riepu10 @evenstaredits
@scariusaquarius @sweetestgbye @lathalea
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skzhocomments · 5 months ago
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Star Dust - JongTae Oneshot
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General Masterlist
Pairing: Taemin x Jonghyun
Genre: non-idol AU, star tear disease, angst, unrequited love, romance
Word Count: ~6k
Warnings: swearing, angst, lots of crying
This is just a story that doesn’t describe any of the mentioned SHINee's members' true character in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.
This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)
Summary
Inspired by the Star Tear Disease - An illness born from subjects of unrequited (of a feeling, especially love not returned or rewarded), where the subject cries out stars. This story started as a challenge given to me by my dearest friend @0rgell, who gave me the following words that I must use in the story: Lollygag, Toast, Star tear disease, Execution, Spit , Blood clot, Butt plug, Train station. If you see random words bolded and underlined, it's so that I could keep track. I would also like to use this fic to wish @0rgell one year of the most beautiful friendship one could ask for. Love you to the moon and back <3
A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!
© all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)
---
Star Dust
It was bad.
Extremely bad.
Fuck, terrible, even.
Taemin should’ve known something was wrong from the very first night it happened to him. However, he’s never heard about this before, and when it happened, it left him utterly confused.
His eyes started burning, and it was unlike anything he’s ever felt before. The burning only intensified as his heart clenched and broke into pieces at the sight of him with a pretty girl on his lap, his lips lazily caressing her neck so openly, in front of everyone.
Jonghyun wasn’t even drunk. There were alcoholic drinks on the table in the cramped karaoke room, but Taemin knew for a fact that he didn’t drink any of them, not even a sip. He was driving tonight, and if there was one thing Jonghyun was, it was responsible.
If he were drunk, it would’ve been easier to accept, maybe, that Jonghyun seemed to only have eyes for everyone but him. Maybe in a drunken haze, Jonghyun thought the girl’s eyes were pretty, and he decided to have some fun with her tonight and forget about her the next morning. He’s done it time and time again, Taemin heard, but it was the first time it was happening in front of his eyes, and it stung.
But Jonghyun wasn’t drunk.
He was into this girl for real, he wasn’t in any drunken state to make him irrational. He liked this girl enough to let her straddle him in the middle of the fucking karaoke room.
The burning intensified.
Although hurt, Taemin tried his hardest to keep his tears from flowing. He smiled and sang along and even danced with everyone to all the happy songs in the karaoke machine. He focused on the lyrics on the screen and held his microphone tight, he sipped on mocktails, and occasionally, he’d nervously rub his thighs with his hands just to focus on something else but Jonghyun.
Despite the age gap between Taemin and the rest, he didn’t feel out of place, even if he was the youngest and they were sometimes treating him like a little kid that needed to be doted on. Jonghyun treated him the same way.
Maybe that was the problem. Jonghyun never saw him as a man, he’s only ever seen the cute, innocent, young Taemin who needs protecting from the big scary world. Jjong was more than willing to offer that protection, but not in the way Taemin wanted it. He assumed the ‘big brother’ role and rolled around with it while Taemin’s feelings grew and grew, to the point where it became painful to be around Jonghyun without clinging to him.
That night, Taemin kept swallowing back his tears, but the burning in his eyes just kept getting worse. He started rubbing them repeatedly, but it would do nothing to ease the discomfort he was feeling.
Eventually, he decided to go home early, made up a pointless excuse no one would remember and headed straight to the door.
“Taem.” Jonghyun called to him, making him turn his head around. Fuck, he hated this. He hoped he could get out without having to see that girl straddling him again, but it appears Jjong unintentionally wanted to remind him one more time that his lap would never be Taemin’s place.
“Yeah?”
“Need me to drive you?”
Yes.
“No.”
“Let us know you’re home safe, then. Mkay?”
“Sure thing.” Taemin faked a smile and got out quickly.
Fuck, he was barely able to see. His eyes hurt, and everything was blurry. The lights hurt him. He rushed home, and he didn’t even know how he got there with how little he was able to see.
Going to the bathroom, he looked in the mirror and almost had a heart attack. His eyes were blood shot; it looked like all his veins in them popped open. Shit, it was scary.
He started googling out symptoms, but nothing checked out. He didn’t think he was allergic to anything he drank tonight; his eyes weren’t necessarily dry, and he didn’t have any allergies or infections (that he was aware of, anyway), so… why was he looking so horrible?
Maybe he was under too much stress. He did have a hard time at Uni lately, and even if his older friends assured him that it’s normal to be stressed in your last year and that everything would be okay, he kept thinking that maybe they were wrong. Maybe he was that one-off case you read about in the news - the young man who gets so stressed, he has a heart attack. He did smoke a bit too much lately, and smoking is a risk factor for the development of blood clots, if he remembers right.
Fuck, maybe he’s dying.
He was trying his hardest to remember how he got in this state. He met Jjong and the rest, they went to karaoke, then Minho called up some girls who turned up, and then that one brunette got on Jonghyun’s lap and-
Ouch. He pressed his hand on his heart and felt his eyes burning up again.
Right.
He started feeling this way when he noticed how much Jonghyun seemed to enjoy that girl’s company, how into her kisses he was, how he couldn’t seem to get enough, so he pressed her against his crotch right there in front of him, how-
Taemin couldn’t think about it anymore; the burning got so intense, he started blinking repeatedly and rubbing his eyes. It was so weird. He wanted to cry, to let it all go and feel his emotions just as he’d always do, but something was wrong this time, for instead of tears, a single, pale green star-shaped thing fell from his left eye.
He managed to catch it before it went down the sink’s drain, and confused, he started inspecting the little thing.
Sure enough, it was a star. A slightly greenish star with five corners.
Bewildered, he tried to touch it with his fingers, but as soon as he did, the small star shattered with a crystalline sound right on his palm.
He looked back in the mirror, and as if by miracle, his eyes returned to their normal colour. They were no longer blood shot and irritated; it was as if he'd imagined the whole thing.
~
The next day, Taemin went to Uni feeling more confused than ever. He’s asked around to see if he’s able to find anything about his condition, as Google didn’t prove to be too useful in his quest. He even went to the infirmary to ask the nurse if she’d ever heard of this before, but she just shrugged and told him to stop taking drugs while it’s still early enough, and that she can help him if he’ll let her.
But hell, he was not high. He didn’t take any drugs. Not willingly, anyway.
Maybe there was something in his drink?
Yeah, that’s the only logical explanation.
Maybe he did dream about everything.
After all, who’s ever heard of crying stars?
~
“Taeminnie!” Jonghyun exclaimed. “Thank God I’m here early. I came to get you. Would’ve missed you if I came by 10 minutes too late. Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“Jjong?” Taemin looked perplexed.
“Did you hit your head?” He ruffled the younger’s hair lovingly, then grabbed the straps of his backpack and forced him to take it off his back. Taemin complied.
“No, I didn’t.” He rearranged his hair while Jonghyun put the backpack on his own shoulder. “But why are you here?”
“Well, for starters, you didn’t message me last night.”
“My phone ran out.” He shrugged.
“And you’re not picking up today.”
“Left it on silent and I didn’t see you calling.”
“You little liar.” Jonghyun ruffled his hair again. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Taemin blushed and turned his head away.
“Did you have fun last night?” He asked, but as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he regretted it.
He didn’t want to know.
“Oh, yeah. I went to Amber’s after dropping everyone else home, had a few drinks, had some fun with her. You know, just the usual.”
“Mhm.” Taemin nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat. His eyes started to burn again, similarly to last night.
What if it wasn’t a dream after all?
“But enough about me! I want to know how you’re doing. Feels like we haven’t talked in ages!”
“Well, you’re always busy.” Taemin shrugged.
“Don’t be upset, Taeminnie. I made time for you today, haven’t I?”
“Where are we going, anyway?” Taemin stopped in front of Jonghyun’s car, confused by his friend's demeanour.
“Well, since it’s Friday, I thought I’d do you a favour and get you out of the house more.”
“I’m always out of the house with you and the others, though.” Taemin retorted.
“Yeah, but that’s no fun, is it? I meant just the two of us.”
Taemin blushed, and he felt the burning in his eyes suddenly stop.
They hopped in the car and Jonghyun clicked on his playlist, familiar tunes filling the empty space in-between their chats and their laughter.
“The beach?” Taemin asked with a raise of his brow when he looked out the window and saw seagulls.
“Yeah. You told me you haven’t been in years, so I decided, heck, I don’t have any work today, so why the hell not? Good idea, right?”
Taemin scoffed and laughed briefly as they finally reached a parking place.
“Well, I’m glad to be here, but I’m also starving.”
“Of course, I thought about that as well, who do you think I am?” Jonghyun rolled his eyes and opened the trunk, taking out a picnic basket.
“Jjong, it’s freezing. Are we having a picnic?” Taemin laughed enthusiastically and clapped briefly.
“I know the taste of my food will overwhelm all the other senses. Besides, there’s blankets for us, and I even got two coats, just in case.”
Yeah, that’s why Taemin fell in love with Jonghyun in the first place. His attention to detail, to whatever Taemin talks about; he remembers everything, even the small details, and he’s so damn attentive. It’s impossible to not fall in love with such a man.
Even if he doesn’t feel the same.
The burning came back with this thought, but Taemin was quick to shake it away as soon as Jonghyun linked their arms, dragging him towards the beach.
“Now it’s time to take your shoes off.” Jonghyun commanded and pointed to Taemin’s feet while he took his own shoes off himself.
“Jjong, it’s freezing.”
“Taem, we’re at the beach. You don’t walk on fine sand with shoes on, that would be such a waste.”
“Fine. But if I’m catching a cold, you have to nurse me back to health.”
“Not like I have a choice. You’re always soooo clingy when you’re sick!” Jonghyun ruffled his hair lovingly.
“Ugh, stop treating me like a child. You’re only 3 years older!” Taemin stuck his tongue out, when Jonghyun quickly grabbed it with his hands.
After some struggle, Taemin managed to get his tongue back in his mouth and made a disgusted face.
“You didn’t even wash your hands!”
“You’ll live. Now, let’s set the table and eat!” Jjong clapped once excitedly and started arranging the blanket on the sand, putting the basket on one of the corners, and dividing their shoes on the other 3 to prevent the blanket from flying away from the wind.
“This looks amazing. When did you even have time to cook this?”
“Well, your birthday is coming soon, so I thought-”
“My birthday?” Taemin laughed. “We’re only in February.”
“Eh, what’s a few months?” Jonghyun waved his hand in the air.
“Your birthday is sooner. Only two months.”
“Then we’re celebrating my birthday. Try this!” He quickly grabbed a tempura shrimp and put it directly in Taemin’s mouth, and the younger chewed it with a smile.
“Wow, this is actually really good!”
“Well, what else did you expect?!”
“You’re the best.” Taemin chuckled.
“I know I am.”
“Your head will grow too big from the praise.” Taemin shook his head.
“Look who’s talking. You adore praise.” Jonghyun retorted with a roll of his eyes.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. Wanna bet I can make you blush just by praising you?”
“No.” Taemin laughed briefly and tried to focus on the food, but Jonghyun didn’t want to drop it.
“Come on. You’re doing so great, swallowing food like that. Good job, Taeminnie. Should I give you some toast for being such a good boy?”
“Oh, shut it.” Taemin laughed and playfully slapped Jonghyun’s thigh, trying to hide the blush creeping on his cheeks.
Damn, he really was a praise princess.
“The wind is really picking up.” Jonghyun remarked as one of their napkins flew away.
“Yeah. You made sure to have everything prepared but forgot to check the weather.” Taemin laughed, and just then, some sand blew into his mouth. “Ewww!” He tried to spit it all out, unsuccessful, all the while Jonghyun kept laughing at him.
“If you’re done eating, we should go stick our feet in the sea! Walk along the shore, you know the drill.”
“Jjong, it’s freezing.”
“It’s the third time you’ve said that today.”
“And I’ll keep saying it. We’ll definitely catch a cold.”
“Come on, don’t be so negative. We won’t catch a cold. Let’s go!”
“No. You can’t make me stand up.” Taemin shook his head, but Jonghyun would not take no for an answer, so he bent down and picked the younger by his legs, dragging him away from the blanket through the sand.
When Taemin stood up to protest, Jonghyun took advantage and picked him from his waist, placing him right on his shoulder and running away towards the sea.
“You’re fucking crazy!” Taemin shouted with a laugh. Truth is, this is another part of Jjong that made him love him. He was so persuasive, and always found a way to get what he wants. His personality clashed perfectly with Taemin’s, and every time they’d meet, just the two of them, it was impossible for them to not pointlessly fight about something.
Taemin liked it, for it made everything funnier, and time spent with Jjong was always entertaining.
If someone else were to pick him up like that, Taemin would’ve exploded in anger, but with Jjong, everything was different.
“They say birds of a feather fly together, so I guess that means both of us are crazy.” Jonghyun put him down with his feet right in the water, and Taemin grimaced.
“It’s so fucking cold, I’ll die of hypothermia.”
“You’ll die of drama.”
“Better come to my funeral and apologise when that happens.”
“Will do, Taem. I’ll be on my knees begging for your forgiveness for forcing you to stay with your feet in the water.”
“Freezing cold water.” Taemin corrected.
“Come on, it’s getting warmer by the minute.”
“You’re just getting used to it.”
“And aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Taemin chuckled.
“Then, what if I splash you?”
“Jjong, for the millionth time, it’s freezing. Splashing me with water would be the same as taking me to the electric chair for my execution. I’ll genuinely catch a cold.”
“Just pop an ibuprofen and drink some tea and you’ll be fine~!”
“You’re so carefree, aren’t you?”
“Of course! You know I enjoy my life to the fullest!”
“I’m-”
“Let me guess! Freezing!” Jjong started to laugh. “Okay, you win. Let’s get out, Taem.”
They made their way back to their picnic blanket and Taemin looked down at his wet feet that collected sand on the way from the sea to their little space on the beach. He hated the feeling on his feet, but Jonghyun came once again prepared, and pulled out a large water bottle and a towel so they can remove the extra sand stuck on their skin.
“It’s already getting late.” Taemin observed. “Should we go back home?”
“Home?! No way, Taem, you’re stuck with me for the whole weekend!”
“What?!” Taemin gasped. “But Jjong, what about my homework and-”
“Boring~!”
“You little-” Taemin narrowed his eyes and jumped on Jonghyun, starting to tickle him. The older squirmed and begged to be spared, but Taemin wouldn’t have it.
“Okay, okay! Sorry! I just wanted to spend some quality time with my best friend! Sue me!” Jonghyun eventually managed to get out, breathless by the whole ordeal. He was holding his hands on his belly protectively and feared any unexpected movement from Taemin.
“Okay. Let’s say I do ignore all my responsibilities for the weekend to spend time with you. Where do we sleep?”
“I booked a room at an inn somewhere around here.”
“Good, let’s go and rest, I’m tired as fuck.”
The duo headed towards the inn and got to their room in no time. They kept talking about nothing important for a few hours, before finally taking out two futons out of the closet and arranging them neatly on the floor.
“This is quite comfortable, isn’t it?” Jonghyun asked, taking in a deep breath.
“Yeah. It’s really warm.”
“Ahh, I love this place.”
“Have you been here before?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jonghyun chuckled. “With one of my exes. We came here on her birthday a while ago. Honeymoon periods are the best.”
Taemin hummed, but as soon as he heard Jonghyun, he got that weird sensation in his eyes again.
“She was a really nice girl, but we didn’t really work out.”
“Why not?” Taemin asked, although he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, because with every word coming out of Jonghyun’s mouth, it seemed the pain in his eyes only intensified.
“Well, we wanted different things from life. She wanted to get married and start a family as soon as possible, whereas I…” He hesitated.
“You wanted to live your life first.” Taemin turned to his side to face Jonghyun, even though it was dark, and they couldn’t see each other.
Of course, Taemin knew this fact about his friend all too well. He knew how much he loved the sea, for instance, and how suffocating the big city they lived in could feel at times. He knew Jonghyun would stop at nothing to see what else was out there. He’d head into the big scary world with no hesitation if it meant expanding his horizons.
JJong has always been that type of person who would without a doubt go to the train station and buy the next ticket to nowhere. If given the chance to have some days off work, he’d hop on a train and sit in a window seat, admiring all the sights their little country had to offer: fields, mountains, rivers, sheep, cows… he wanted to enjoy the wide world his own way, by observing and breathing in some fresh air.
It was one of the many reasons that made Taemin fall in love with him. They were so different in this aspect. Taemin preferred comfort; he hated going out of his bubble and trying new things. If he could, he would only go to the same restaurant to have the same meal on the same day of the week for the rest of his life. He knew which buses and trains he had to take to get to the same familiar places, and if he would never have to get out of his mundane day-to-day life, he wouldn’t mind it.
When Jonghyun came along, he challenged Taemin’s whole world. He challenged him to be different, to step out of his comfort zone and experience new things, which was so scary at first, but with each passing day of Jonghyun pushing him around, he started enjoying experimenting.
From new foods to new places, to new museums, to new parks, and even to new people, Jonghyun made it his mission to force Taemin to go out and explore the world around him.
To both of their surprises, it worked. Taemin was more sociable now, and he discovered he appreciated new things as long as Jonghyun was next to him.
That’s how it started, and that’s how he realised his growing feelings for his best friend.
And now, in the warmth of his futon, Taemin couldn’t help but wonder why Jonghyun seemed to have feelings for everyone but him.
“Yes, exactly! She was perfect otherwise. We had great chemistry, she was a looker, smart, funny. Ugh, life is so unfair!” He chuckled, but Taemin could barely focus on his words.
Ugh, this hurts. He rubbed his eyes, and just as Jonghyun started talking again, seemingly surprised that Taemin knew him so well, he excused himself to the bathroom.
Looking in the small mirror, the same redness as last night was present in his eyes. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.
If he was unsure of anything last night, he was absolutely certain now that he didn’t have any allergy, dust didn’t get into his eyes—or was it the sand? No, it couldn’t have been—and there was simply no logical explanation.
He was hurt because Jonghyun happened to come to this inn with another girl, and he truly loved her, enough to remember her God knows how many years later.
Ugh.
He started crying again, and just as last night, no tears came out. There was only a twinkle sound, and a couple of green stars, and once he looked back in the mirror, his eyes were back to normal.
He didn’t bother catching the stars this time; he just let them fall in the sink and shatter. He couldn’t understand it. It made no sense.
And why green?
Out of all colours, why were his stars green?
It almost seemed like, because he was jealous…
No, this couldn’t be it.
He returned to the room and tried to brush the thoughts off, but still, he was unable to shut it down.
“Jjong, do you believe that colours have meanings?” He asked all of a sudden, interrupting his friend. He didn’t hear what he was saying anyway.
“Huh? Colours?”
“Yeah. You know, like… emotions. Red is anger, blue is sadness, green is envy…”
“Oh.” Jonghyun chuckled. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, colours do make me feel something, but… I prefer to focus on the positive meanings instead. Red is love, blue is calmness, green is nature… you know?”
“Tsk, always such an optimist.” Taemin muttered.
“Why did you ask?”
“I don’t know, I just… I was thinking about it.” Taemin smiled sadly and was glad that his friend wasn’t able to see him in the dark.
It would add up. Last night, he felt jealous seeing that girl in his lap, and today, he felt jealous again as soon as Jjong mentioned his ex.
He cried star-shaped tears of jealousy.
But why?
~
“Why are we here again?” Taemin asked, embarrassed.
“To buy a butt plug, of course.” Kibum grinned from ear to ear.
“This is a very weird bonding activity.” Jinki commented, but curiously picked up multiple items from the shelf and analysed them. “Look, this one has a rhinestone in it!”
“I feel like this trip will unlock a new fantasy for Jinki.” Key chuckled, and all the boys started laughing.
They were trying to pick up a gift for Jonghyun, whose birthday was approaching way too quickly, and although all of them prepared some ‘serious’ gifts, like new books or a new vinyl for his pick-up, Kibum suggested buying something else as well — something he would remember.
Thus, the 4 boys were now in a sex shop, browsing through different types of toys, plugs, condoms and whatnot, and Taemin had no idea why he had to be there in the first place. Key could’ve just picked alone.
“What about this one? It has a little reptile tail. It kinds looks like a dinosaur when you squint.”
“Uhm… does it matter what it is? Will he even use it?” Minho chuckled, and Key rolled his eyes.
“Come on, he’s the type who’d definitely experiment with taking things up his ass.”
“Ï don’t know. He’s not you.” Minho said with a snicker.
“Yo, lamppost, I think I’m gonna shove this up your-”
“Okay, okay!” Jinki got between them and pushed them aside. “Let’s just get the rhinestone one.”
“Hyung, you can get it for yourself if you like it that much,” Taemin commented so quietly, it almost came out as a whisper.
“Should I?” Jinki looked at the little box with a lot of concentration in his gaze. “Then, do we get a matching one for Jjong?”
“Why, are you guys fucking?” Minho asked, and Taemin’s heart dropped. Were they?
“God, no. He’s just my friend. I was just saying.”
“Let’s go with the reptile one.” Taemin butted in, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible.
“That’s what I’m saying! Good choice, Taeminnie!” Key ruffled his hair, annoying him. He was once again treating him like a baby.
~
“Wow, this is certainly… unexpected.” Jonghyun laughed loudly as soon as he tore open the cute pink packaging and saw the small box.
“Taemin picked it for you!” Key grinned, and Taemin immediately wanted to disappear.
“We all went to the shop!” He protested, trying to avert his gaze away from Jonghyun’s.
It didn’t work, for when he raised his eyes again, Jjong was still looking at him with a determined gaze, as if challenging him again.
“What?” Taemin asked, embarrassed.
“Nothing. It’s cute.” Jonghyun smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why a dinosaur, though?”
“Well, we always say you look like one, so…”
“I like how many shades of green it has. Quite interesting.” Jjong held the buttplug in the air, examining it under the light of the bulb above, and Taemin immediately frowned.
How many shades of green did Jjong see, exactly?
Taemin barely saw one, and even that looked dull.
“It’s so vibrant, too.” Jjong went further, and all the boys around the table nodded in approval.
What…? Taemin shot up and snatched the plug from Jonghyun’s hands.
“What’s wrong?” Jinki asked, concerned.
“N-nothing. Hey, gotta go. Sorry!” Taemin threw the plug on the table and practically ran out the door, not even hearing the 4 boys shouting after him.
He ran and ran and ran until he got home, and once he did, he opened his computer and typed in the word green in the search bar.
It was like his mind was playing tricks on him, as he certainly didn’t remember colours looking so dull and lifeless.
He typed in pink and was met with the familiar vibrance of colour, which made him more confused than ever. Once again, he typed in green.
Dull. Faded.
But why?
Why didn’t it look as it should?
Why?
~
Weeks have passed and with them, the finals were creeping in faster.
There was a lot of studying Taemin had to do, which inevitably meant less time spent with his friends.
Less time spent with Jjong.
Taemin didn’t notice the weeks passing by, as there was just so much to do. What he did notice, though, was that green was no longer that green.
His sight didn’t return to normal, and he still couldn’t understand why.
He was certain it was because of Jjong, because he was now also experiencing the same symptoms with the colour blue, after noticing that this separation was only difficult for him, as Jonghyun didn’t seem to miss him too much.
Taemin cried pale-blue stars every time Jonghyun took too long to reply to his messages.
Blue. Just like his feelings.
It hurt, but what was there to do? Jonghyun didn’t feel the same.
This thought alone made his vision blurry again, all the symptoms of the Star tear disease starting to reappear instantly.
He couldn’t cry again, not when he had so much to study. He had to think about something else.
Fuck, his eyes stung. Again.
Soon enough a few blue stars followed with a twinkle sound as they shattered against his desk.
He was crying stars again, the blue shade way deeper now, and when he was done spilling his sadness, the ink of his pen looked almost black.
He could barely see the colour blue.
~
“It’s finally over!” One of Taemin’s classmates exclaimed, walking leisurely with his hands above his head, stretching with a yawn. “I swear to God, this exam was so long I thought I might pass out.”
“Tell me about it.” Taemin chuckled.
“Oh, isn’t that the dude you were seeing?”
“Hm?” Taemin turned his gaze towards the gate and saw none other than Jonghyun, waiting for him next to his car. “I’m not seeing him.”
“Really? I thought you were an item or something, he used to come here like everyday.”
Yeah, used to. Rang through Taemin’s head. Ever since Jonghyun’s birthday, they’ve barely spent any time together.
A pang made its way through his heart as he looked at the man waiting patiently.
As Jonghyun saw him, he immediately straightened up and showed him the widest smile.
“Taeminnie!” He said, coming closer and ruffling his hair. “Looking good!”
“Likewise.” Taemin smiled shortly. “What are you doing here, Jjong?”
“What, can’t I come see my favourite person?”
My favourite person.
He doesn’t mean it.
“Besides, wasn’t today your last exam?” Jjong continued asking.
“Yeah.”
“See? I remembered. I’m such a good brother.” He boasted proudly. “I’ll treat you to some good food for all your hard work this semester!” Jjong decided, and there was no space for arguing as he instantly opened the door to his car and shoved Taemin inside.
The way to the restaurant was pleasant like usual, and it was like no time has passed at all since they’ve last seen each other, even if, in reality, almost two months passed.
“So, did you miss me?” Jonghyun asked jokingly, his eyes on the road.
“Mhm.”
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you~” He kept teasing Taemin, unaware of the other man’s inner turmoil.
“I didn’t have time to eat, let alone miss anyone.” Taemin replied, looking away through his window. The trees were a dull shade of green, and the sky had almost no colour to it. It was a blue-tinted grey.
“Aww, you’re so mean! I missed you lots, Taeminnie.”
“Good for you.”
“Hey, did I do something wrong?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just hungry.”
“Makes sense.” Jonghyun chuckled. “Me too. We’re almost there.”
And Jonghyun was right. They got to the restaurant less than 3 minutes later, the song that started playing on the radio not even having enough time to get to the end.
To his surprise, Jonghyun took him to an extremely fancy restaurant, and they had a reservation.
“Jjong, is this okay?” Taemin whispered as they were being led to a private room. “Seems really expensive.”
“Of course. Everything for my smart friend.” Jjong smiled brightly. “You deserve this for studying so hard these past months.”
They sat down opposite from each other, and plates of food began being brought to them minutes later. It seemed Jonghyun had it all planned to the notch.
“Do you like it?” He asked after a while, both of their faces stuffed with food.
“It tastes incredible.” Taemin replied delighted. “You know, I always thought expensive restaurants were stupid because they serve such small portions, but eating here definitely changed my mind.”
“I’m glad.”
“So, what have you been up to lately, Hyung?” Taemin asked with a smile that dropped as soon as Jonghyun answered.
“Oh, just the usual. Work, work, and work again. But I met someone new, and we’ve been on a couple of dates, and she seems nice enough.”
The food started choking Taemin, who tried to cough the unchewed bits out.
“Wow, you okay?” Jonghyun stood up, rushing to Taemin’s side to pat his back.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You were saying something about a girl?”
“Oh, yes.” Jonghyun sat down right next to Taemin instead of going back to his place on the opposite side of the table, as he excitedly started describing the lucky woman to him, and all the lollygagging they engaged in these past couple of weeks.
Taemin couldn’t eat anymore, and with each of Jonghyun’s words, he tried swallowing his tears back. His heart was hurting. Couldn’t Jonghyun see the turmoil he was putting him through?
“Why did you even take me out?” Taemin mumbled under his breath, unaware that Jjong would hear him.
“What do you mean?” He titled his head unaware. “I told you. You did so well that I had to-”
“You didn’t do this for any of our other friends.” Taemin countered, cutting him off. “You didn’t take Kibum or Minho or Jinki out, even though they had way more exams than me and even finished Uni and their Master’s.”
“N-no, I didn’t…” Jonghyun rubbed his nape awkwardly.
“Then, why? Why did you take me out, just to talk to me about some random girl you’ve been fucking?” The younger asked harshly.
“What do you mean, Taeminnie?”
“Don’t call me that.” He frowned and turned his eyes to the unfinished food on the table, that was sure to stay unfinished, because he wanted to get away.
No, he needed to get away. Now.
Hastily, Taemin stood up and grabbed his backpack from the floor.
“Wait-” Jonghyun followed suit and grabbed his wrist to force him to stop.
“What?” Taemin asked, without even turning to look back.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you meant, but-”
“Oh, fuck this, Jonghyun. You always do this shit!” He spoke harshly, letting go of all the feelings he’d been suppressing in his chest that were making it hard to breathe.
“What did I do? Taemin, look at me, please.” Jonghyun urged him, and he finally looked back, his eyes full of sadness and disappointment.
“You take care of me. You treat me nice. You take me out on dates that you don’t call dates, only to then break my heart and tell me about how much you love someone else. Why, Jonghyun? Why are you doing this to me?”
“Taemin… what’s this?” Jonghyun watched in awe as a bright red star fell from Taemin’s eyes with a twinkle sound.
“Not this again…” Taemin tried to wipe it off, the sound getting more intense as the stars shattered against his fists.
“Holy fuck! What’s wrong with your eyes?”
“I really can’t do this anymore…”
“Stars…?!” Jonghyun kept looking shocked at his friend.
“I’m in love with you, idiot!” Taemin finally confessed, pushing Jonghyun back, and without waiting for a response, he ran away from the private room right outside, and tried to put as much distance as possible between him and the restaurant.
Red stars continued spilling from his eyes, pouring out all the passion and love from his heart as he kept running away until his lungs ran out of air, leaving star dust on his tracks.
He didn’t know where he was, but knowing that Jonghyun drove him all the way to the restaurant for quite some time, he was aware that there was no chance of going back home on his own. He decided against calling one of his friends and called a taxi instead as soon as his tears dried up and he stopped crying stars.
There wasn’t much money in his pockets, so he asked the driver to just drop him off at the nearest bus station, and the way home took more than an hour.
He had to shut down his phone sometime during the bus drive, because Jonghyun was blowing it up, surely worried about his whereabouts. However, he didn’t have it in him to answer to at least let him know he’s okay, and once he got home, he was glad to see he didn’t come see him.
Taemin laid in bed, wondering how his day could start so well and end so badly.
Why did he have to fall in love with someone who didn’t love him back, he wondered?
Why did it hurt so much?
He couldn’t find any answers to his questions, but glancing around his room, he noticed that the covers of some of his books, once red, were no longer as vibrant.
Loving Jonghyun came at a big price, he thought, and by the time his feelings were dealt with, maybe all the colour would be gone from his world.
~
Taemin was surprised to not hear anything from Jonghyun in so many days. After blowing up his phone that day, he was radio silent.
His absence hurt Taemin even more than his presence, and he found himself crying twinkling stars almost every day. However, they now fell in all colours at once: a blue star, a red star, a yellow star, an orange star… and his world became dull.
Still, he tried his hardest to find joy in the colours he was able to see, so he’d force himself to go out every day, trying not to dwell on the pain in his heart.
16 days later, he found Jonghyun waiting in front of his apartment complex when he returned from one of his walks.
“Taeminnie.” Jonghyun whispered.
“Hi.” The boy answered softly, guarding himself and building walls around him.
“I missed you.”
Taemin didn’t reply.
“I’m sorry for not reaching out to you after that day… I just needed some time to… reflect on things, I guess.”
“I see.” Taemin nodded.
“Taemin, can we talk?”
“We are talking.”
“No, I meant… whatever, you know what? I’ll just say it. I’ll admit that I haven’t really thought of you that way… not consciously, anyway.”
“Okay.”
“But after you confessed, I realised that you were right about everything. Unconsciously, I acted protective of you, and I was careful to not hurt your feelings, and to be there for you… I really took you on dates, even though I hadn't figured out they were dates…”
“Jjong, go straight to the point.”
“Fine. I will. I also like you, Taemin. Let’s date.”
“Wh-what?!” Taemin’s eyes grew wide, as he wasn’t expecting him to say this. He was readying himself for a proper rejection, so this came up completely unexpectedly.
“You heard me. All this time, I’ve been searching for you in all my partners, without even realising it, simply because I was too scared to confront my true feelings for you. I won’t do that anymore.”
“I can’t believe this…”
“I love you, Taemin.” Jonghyun confessed and pressed his lips against the boy’s lips.
Taemin loved him too, but it was too late, for his world has already lost colour, and his cheeks would forever be stained by powdered star dust.
~The END~
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randomperson99sworld · 27 days ago
Text
Hope
~ Chapter 21 ~
Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester save a young woman —Natalie Johnson, from a coven of witches who are after her deceased grandmothers spell book. At first Dean doesn’t trust her, will he ever? Natalie is just simply a woman who gets roped up in the supernatural world from a mistake her grandmother made.
Pairing: Dean x OC
Warning: Age gap, slow burn, smut (not until the later chapters), language, gore.
Word Count: 4,448
A/N: idk why but I find this GIF of him so hawt lol. Hope y’all are still enjoying the story! Happy reading! ♥️
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The weekend had arrived, and after finishing up their latest case, Dean found himself driving to Natalie's place. It wasn't something he did often, but this time was different. Sam had plans—another date with a girl he'd met recently—so he was sitting out on this hunt. That left Dean on his own, and while he wasn't one to normally ask for company, he had to admit Natalie's skills were useful. And, well, he didn't mind having her around.
Still, he was gruff about it when he knocked on her door.
Natalie answered, surprised but smiling when she saw him standing there. "Dean? Everything okay?"
"Yeah, I, uh..." Dean cleared his throat, looking off to the side before meeting her eyes again. "I've got a hunt. Was wondering if you wanted to join me. I could use your help with some research, y'know?"
Natalie blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. Dean didn't usually ask for help unless it was absolutely necessary, so the fact that he was standing here, asking her to come along, was a bit of a surprise. But the smile that followed her shock was genuine.
"I'd love to," she said, stepping back to let him inside. "Let me just pack a bag real quick."
Dean gave her a nod, stepping into her home as she hurried to gather her things. He glanced around her place while he waited, noting the personal touches she had added since moving in. It was cozy—pictures on the walls, a soft couch, a couple of throw blankets folded neatly over the armrest. It suited her, he thought.
While she packed, Natalie called over her shoulder, "Did Sam have plans or something? Or did you just decide I'm more fun to be around?"
Dean chuckled, leaning against the back of her couch. "Sam's on a date. Figured I'd give him a break. Plus, you're not that bad to have around." He said it with a smirk, but there was a truth behind his words that he wasn't quite ready to admit.
After a few minutes, Natalie reappeared, bag slung over her shoulder, and gave Dean a nod. "Ready to go."
They headed out to Dean's Impala, Natalie tossing her bag into the back before sliding into the passenger seat. Dean climbed into the driver's side, starting the engine with its familiar rumble, and they hit the road. It was going to be a four-hour drive to a small town in Missouri, and while they drove, they fell into easy conversation, the silence between them comfortable.
Dean wasn't the type to openly admit it, but he liked having her around. The banter, the way she approached things with a sense of curiosity, and her natural ability to balance his rough edges without trying too hard—he appreciated it more than he'd ever say.
When they finally arrived in the small Missouri town, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the quiet streets. They had just enough time to make their way to the crime scene, where local law enforcement had reported a particularly gruesome murder. Dean parked the Impala a few blocks away, and the two of them slipped on their FBI badges before heading in to follow up with the locals.
The crime scene was in a secluded area, behind an old warehouse on the edge of town. They flashed their badges to the officer on duty, who let them through without much fuss. The victim was a middle-aged man, his throat ripped open, blood drained from his body. It was a sight Natalie had become more familiar with over time, though it still sent a shiver down her spine.
"Definitely vampires," Dean muttered, crouching down to inspect the body. "Looks like a nest. Probably feeding in the area for a while."
Natalie nodded, standing back a bit but studying the scene. She had gotten better at handling these moments—looking at bodies, dealing with the aftermath of violent deaths—but it didn't make it any less disturbing. Still, she kept her composure, knowing this was part of the job.
Dean glanced up at her, noticing her calmness. "You alright?" he asked, his tone gruff but with a hint of concern.
"Yeah," she replied, her voice steady. "I'm getting used to it. Not that I really want to, but you know..."
Dean smirked slightly, standing up and dusting off his hands. "Yeah, I get it."
They exchanged a glance, and for a moment, it was as if they'd been working together for years, not just a handful of cases. Dean might not have wanted Natalie to get fully roped into the hunting life, but at that moment, he was glad she was here.
As they got back into the Impala after inspecting the crime scene, Dean kept telling himself the same thing: the only reason Natalie was here was to learn more about survival against these monsters. He wasn't looking to drag her deeper into the hunting life. He didn't want her to be another casualty in the endless cycle of danger. But, as he gripped the steering wheel and glanced over at her doing research on her phone, he couldn't deny that the company was nice. Natalie had a way of making things a little easier, even when the job was grim.
The drive was quiet, save for the soft hum of the car and the click of Natalie's phone as she dug deeper into the details of their case. After a few moments, she perked up, eyes scanning a string of information she'd found.
"I think I've got it," Natalie said, her voice filled with certainty. "The nest. It's two vampires—a couple. Cara and Eli. From what I'm seeing, they've been moving from town to town, staying under the radar until now."
Dean glanced over, nodding. "A couple, huh? Guess that makes it easier to track. Got an address?"
"Yeah," Natalie replied, pulling up the location on her phone. "Old farmhouse, about twenty minutes from here."
"Perfect," Dean muttered, pressing down on the gas. "Let's finish this."
The night had fully settled in by the time they arrived at the old farmhouse, the place eerily quiet and covered in shadows. The only sign of life came from a dim light glowing in one of the windows, flickering faintly like a lantern struggling to stay lit. Dean parked the Impala a short distance away, and they both moved silently toward the house.
With guns loaded and machetes ready, they approached the back door, slipping inside as quietly as possible. The air inside was thick with the musty scent of old wood and something far more unsettling—blood. Dean exchanged a glance with Natalie, his grip tightening on his weapon. They could hear voices in the next room, soft but unmistakable.
Dean motioned for her to stay low, and they crept forward. As they neared the doorway, they could see the two vampires—a woman, Cara, and a man, Eli—talking quietly. Dean didn't waste any time. He moved swiftly, his blade flashing as he came up behind Cara, slicing through her neck before she could even react. Her body crumpled to the floor in an instant.
But Eli was faster. The second Cara went down, Eli roared in fury, his face contorting with rage. He lunged at Dean and Natalie, moving faster than they could react. With a single swipe, he knocked both of them to the ground, the force of the blow sending their weapons flying out of reach.
Before either of them could regain their footing, Eli was on them, dragging them into the living room. Dean struggled, trying to reach for his knife, but Eli was too strong.
Eli stood over them, his chest heaving with anger, his eyes wild as he looked down at Cara's lifeless body. "You're going to regret that," he growled, his voice filled with venom. Before either could think, he knocked them both out with a barrel of a shot gun.
The room was silent except for the occasional creak of old wood and the distant hum of wind outside the farmhouse. Natalie slowly blinked awake, her vision blurred, her head pounding. As the fog in her mind cleared, she realized she was tied to a chair, her wrists bound to the arms of the wooden seat. Panic flickered inside her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. She glanced around, quickly spotting Dean tied up across from her, still unconscious.
"Dean," she whispered, her voice shaky as she tested the restraints. "Dean, wake up."
He didn't stir. Natalie struggled against the ropes, trying to make as little noise as possible, but it was no use. "Dean," she called again, her voice louder now, more urgent. "Wake up!"
Dean groaned, his head slumping forward before he blinked his eyes open, squinting against the dim light. His expression immediately hardened when he saw their predicament, and he instinctively tugged against the ropes binding him.
"Damn it," he muttered, trying to shake off the lingering daze. "What the hell happened?"
Before Natalie could answer, Eli stepped into view. His face was twisted with rage, his eyes dark as he looked between the two of them, his attention laser-focused on Dean.
"You killed her," Eli growled, his voice low and filled with fury. "You took my Cara from me. So now I'm going to take something from you."
Dean's heart pounded as Eli stalked toward Natalie, his hands balled into fists. "I swear to God, if you touch her—"
Eli chuckled darkly, shaking his head as he stepped closer. "You're not in any position to be making demands, pal." He bent down, his face close to Dean's, and whispered, "I'm going to make you feel the way I feel. The pain. The loss."
Dean's chest tightened with dread as Eli moved toward Natalie, his movements slow and deliberate. Dean tugged harder at his restraints, his wrists burning against the ropes. "Don't do this," he growled, his voice raw. "You don't have to do this."
Eli ignored him, instead walking over to a small table in the corner of the room where he had set up an old car battery and a pair of jumper cables. Natalie's heart rate spiked as she watched him calmly prep the wires, sparks flying as he rubbed the two clamps together.
"Such a pretty little thing," Eli said as he turned his attention back to Natalie. He grabbed her face roughly, squeezing her cheeks as he forced her to look at him. His cold, dead eyes gleamed with cruelty. "I can see why you care about her."
Dean's pulse thundered in his ears as Eli leaned in and licked Natalie's cheek, a sickening gesture that made her flinch in disgust. She was trying to stay strong, trying not to let the fear show, but Dean could see it in her eyes—she was terrified.
"Eli, don't," Dean warned, his voice shaking with rage. "I swear, I'll kill you."
Eli ignored him again, instead running the clamps of the jumper cables against each other, creating a bright, crackling spark. "I'm going to enjoy this," Eli said, his voice dripping with malice as he moved toward Natalie.
Natalie's breath quickened, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to pull away, but the restraints held her fast. Her eyes darted toward Dean, who was thrashing in his chair, his face contorted with fury and desperation. But there was nothing he could do.
Eli grinned wickedly and pressed the clamps against Natalie's forearms.
The shock was immediate, violent. White-hot pain surged through her body, and Natalie screamed, her voice hoarse and raw. The world around her blurred, and all she could hear was the crackling of electricity and her own heartbeat hammering in her ears. The pain was unbearable, searing through her nerves like fire. She gasped for breath, her body trembling as Eli pulled the clamps away, only to press them against her skin again, sending another wave of agony through her.
Dean was yelling, his voice distant and muffled as her vision swam. "STOP! Eli, stop it!"
But she could hardly hear him. Her body felt like it was on fire, the pain overwhelming every sense until she could barely stay conscious. The edges of her vision darkened as Eli shocked her again, her scream fading into a choked sob as her body slumped in the chair, hardly able to remain upright.
Eli stepped back, watching with cold satisfaction as Natalie's head lolled to the side, her breaths shallow and labored. "You're going to lose her, just like I lost Cara," he sneered at Dean, who was still fighting against his restraints, his voice hoarse from shouting.
Natalie was slipping—her vision blurry, the room spinning. She could barely stay upright in her chair as the pain seared through her body, the shocks from Eli's torture still pulsing in her limbs. She could hardly hear anything, but through the haze, Dean's voice broke through, rough and filled with worry.
"Sweetheart," Dean's voice rasped, "are you still with me?"
His words were like a lifeline, pulling her back from the edge of unconsciousness. Natalie blinked, struggling to stay awake. Her whole body was screaming in pain, but she wasn't out yet. She wasn't going to let Eli win.
But then Eli turned his attention back to Dean.
"Your turn," Eli growled, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.
Natalie's breath hitched in panic as Eli stalked toward Dean, grabbing the jumper cables again. Her heart pounded in her chest, exhaustion flooding her body, but adrenaline spiked in her veins. She yanked at her restraints, desperate to free herself, but her wrists were still tightly bound. "No! Please, stop!" she shouted, her voice cracking. "Please don't!"
But Eli didn't listen. He clamped the jumper cables onto Dean's chest, sending shock after shock through his body. Dean gritted his teeth, refusing to yell, his muscles tensing with every jolt of electricity. His face was twisted in pain, but he didn't make a sound.
"Dean!" Natalie screamed, panic clawing at her. She thrashed in her chair, her wrists aching from the struggle, but she couldn't stop. She had to get out. She had to help him.
Eli didn't stop. He kept shocking Dean until Dean's head lolled forward, his breathing labored. And then Eli grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up just enough to slam his fist into his face. Over and over, Eli punched him, the sickening sound of knuckles against bone filling the room. Dean's face was soon covered in blood, his body slumping under the repeated blows.
Natalie's panic turned into full-blown terror. "STOP! PLEASE!"
But Eli didn't stop. He landed one final punch before standing up, wiping Dean's blood from his hands. "You're going to pay for what you did," he sneered, his voice low and dripping with hatred. "I'm not finished."
With that, Eli left the room, muttering something about grabbing "the right tool." The door creaked shut behind him, leaving Natalie and Dean alone in the dimly lit room.
Natalie's heart pounded in her ears, and her breaths came in shallow gasps. She tugged at her restraints, panic giving her strength, and suddenly, one of her wrists slipped free. Her hands were small, and Eli hadn't tied one of the ropes tight enough. Without wasting a second, she freed the other wrist and stumbled over to Dean.
Her hands shook as she cupped his bruised and bloody face. "Dean... Dean, come on," she whispered, her voice thick with fear. She gently touched his swollen cheek, wincing at the damage. He was beaten badly—his face was cut and bruised, blood dripping from his lip—but he was still breathing. That was enough for now.
Dean's eyes fluttered open, barely, but he managed to speak, his voice rough and weak. "You... you gotta go..."
"Are you crazy? I'm not leaving you," Natalie replied, her voice firm but laced with panic. She glanced toward the door, knowing Eli would be back any moment. She needed to move fast.
Dean shook his head weakly, wincing at the pain. "Natalie... you have to. He'll kill you if you don't..."
"I'm not leaving you," she repeated, her voice steady despite the fear bubbling inside her. "I'm not going anywhere."
But Dean's body was giving out. His eyes started to close, his head slumping forward as he struggled to stay conscious. "Natalie..." he mumbled, his voice fading as he finally passed out.
Natalie swallowed the lump in her throat, her hands trembling as she brushed his hair back. "I'm not leaving you," she whispered one last time, more to herself than to him. She stood up, adrenaline pumping through her veins, and scanned the room. She needed a weapon. Something, anything, to give her a chance against Eli.
Her eyes landed on the machete they had brought with them, lying just a few feet away from where Eli had knocked it during the initial struggle. She quickly grabbed it, gripping the handle tightly in her hands. Her heart pounded in her chest as she positioned herself near the door, readying herself for what came next.
A few moments later, the door creaked open, and Eli walked back in, a twisted grin on his face. He was holding a larger, rusted tool, clearly intending to finish the job. But he stopped in his tracks when he saw Natalie standing there, machete in hand, her body trembling but her eyes sharp with determination.
"How cute," Eli sneered, stepping forward. "Looks like someone's feeling brave."
Natalie didn't reply. She was too focused, her mind a blur of adrenaline and fear. She watched Eli carefully as he approached, her grip tightening on the machete.
Eli lunged at her, but Natalie moved faster than he expected. She swung the machete with all her strength, the blade slicing through the air and connecting with Eli's neck in one clean motion.
There was a brief moment of stunned silence as Eli staggered, his eyes wide with shock. And then, his head toppled from his shoulders, rolling to the floor with a heavy thud. His body collapsed soon after, lifeless.
Natalie stood there, breathing heavily, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away. She stared at the lifeless body of the vampire at her feet, her mind barely processing what had just happened. The machete slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed beside Dean, her hands still trembling as she reached for him. "Dean..."
He was still unconscious, but he was alive.
They had made it through.
Natalie's hands shook as she quickly worked to untie Dean's restraints, her breath coming in short gasps. Her heart pounded, adrenaline still coursing through her veins, but as she finished freeing him, Dean remained slumped in the chair, unmoving.
"Dean?" she called, her voice laced with fear. "Dean, come on. Wake up."
But he didn't stir. His face was still pale, bruised, and bloodied from Eli's relentless assault, and Natalie's heart sank as she realized he wasn't waking up anytime soon. Panic threatened to set in, but she pushed it down. She needed to get him out of here. Now.
Taking a deep breath, she stood and moved to his side, crouching down and wrapping one of his arms over her shoulders. He was heavy—really heavy. The weight of him pressed down on her, but the adrenaline surging through her veins gave her the strength to push forward.
"You're really heavy," she muttered, her voice strained as she struggled to lift him. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand, staggering slightly as Dean's full weight leaned against her.
Her legs trembled under the strain, and every muscle in her body screamed with exhaustion, but she kept moving, slowly dragging him toward the exit. The farmhouse seemed like a maze, but Natalie's focus was singular: get Dean out. Step by step, she moved through the house, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she fought to keep him upright.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she made it outside to where the Impala sat, gleaming in the moonlight. She leaned against the car for a moment, catching her breath, before using the last of her strength to shove Dean into the passenger seat. His body slumped against the seat, lifeless but alive.
Natalie collapsed against the door, her chest heaving. Her arms and legs burned from the effort, and every part of her wanted to collapse right there, but she wasn't done yet.
With shaky hands, she reached into Dean's jacket pocket, fishing out the keys to the Impala. "I know you don't like anyone other than Sam driving Baby," she whispered, glancing at his unconscious form. "But I promise to take really good care of her."
Before she closed the door, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Dean's cheek, her lips barely brushing against the bruised skin. Then she closed the passenger door, slid into the driver's seat, and stared at the Impala's wheel for a moment, letting the reality of what had just happened sink in.
With trembling fingers, she turned the key in the ignition, the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine filling the silence. Natalie gripped the wheel, her knuckles white, and pulled the car into gear, heading toward the motel.
She kept her eyes on the road, her mind racing. Dean was hurt badly, but they were alive. And for now, that was all that mattered.
Natalie's nerves were frayed, and her body ached from the adrenaline that had been pushing her forward since the fight with Eli. Every inch of her felt heavy as she pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the motel. She had considered driving them all the way back to Kansas, back to the safety of the bunker, but it was too long of a drive, and exhaustion was already catching up with her. Besides, she didn't need Dean waking up and yelling at her for driving his car that far.
Once inside the room, she maneuvered Dean's unconscious form onto the bed, making sure he was still breathing, his chest rising and falling steadily. Relief washed over her. He was going to be okay—he just needed time to recover. His body was beaten and bruised, but it could have been so much worse.
She grabbed the first aid kit and started cleaning his wounds, wiping the blood from his face and bandaging the deeper cuts. Her hands were gentle as she worked, her heart heavy as she looked at the damage Eli had done. She wasn't sure why, but seeing him like this—vulnerable, hurt—stirred something deep inside her. He wasn't used to being the one who needed help, and it broke her heart a little.
Once she was done, Natalie wiped her forehead, the exhaustion finally settling in. She glanced at Dean again, his face calmer now, his breathing steady. He was still unconscious, but he was going to be alright. That was all that mattered.
Needing a moment to compose herself, she grabbed some clean clothes and slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower. The hot water was a welcome relief, washing away the grime and sweat from the fight, but her mind stayed on Dean, wondering when he would wake up, wondering if he'd be okay when he did.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair, she froze. Dean was starting to stir, his eyes fluttering open, and for a moment, he looked disoriented, his brows furrowing as he tried to piece together where he was.
"Dean?" Natalie said softly, tossing the towel aside and rushing to his side.
He grunted, blinking a few times before his eyes found hers. "Natalie... you're... alive," he mumbled, his voice rough but filled with something close to relief. He tried to sit up but winced in pain.
Natalie knelt beside the bed, her heart racing with emotion she hadn't expected. She pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around him as if she could protect him from any more harm. "You're okay,”she whispered, her voice thick with relief.
Dean stiffened for a second, not used to this kind of closeness, but after a beat, he relaxed, his arms slowly coming around her as well. He was still groggy and hurt, but the hug grounded him, made him realize they had both made it through. She had survived, and that was all that mattered.
When they finally pulled apart, Dean's expression softened, though his voice was still gruff. "What... what happened? How'd we get here?"
Natalie rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling a little nervous. "Well... I kind of had to carry you out of that place, you're a lot heavier than you look by the way." She tried making light of the situation as she said it, knowing how much Dean hated feeling helpless. "And then I... uh, had to drive."
Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. "You... drove?"
Natalie bit her lip, nodding. "Yeah. I know you don't like anyone driving Baby but... it was either that or leave you there, and I wasn't going to do that."
Dean blinked, clearly still processing the idea of someone else driving the Impala. Normally, he would have been furious. Baby was his car, his pride and joy. But right now, looking at Natalie—who had saved them both, who had carried him and gotten him to safety—he wasn't mad. Not even a little.
His heart swelled with something he wasn't used to feeling: gratitude. He wasn't used to people taking care of him. That was usually Sam's job, and even then, Dean tried to avoid it. But Natalie had saved him, and she had driven his car, and instead of feeling angry, all he felt was... thankful.
He let out a rough breath, managing a faint smile. "You... you saved my ass."
Natalie blushed a little, shrugging. "Yeah, well, someone had to."
Dean looked at her for a long moment, the weight of everything settling between them. "Thanks, Nat," he said, his voice softer than usual. "Really."
She smiled, her heart fluttering. "Anytime."
For a moment, they just sat there in comfortable silence, the tension of the day fading away. Dean wasn't used to letting people in, but right now, with Natalie by his side, he realized that maybe it wasn't so bad to let someone take care of him every once in a while.
And surprisingly , he wasn't even mad about the Impala.
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