#also because sometimes they do a real bad job at imagining a teenagers room

[nerdie-faerie]

Looking at Elena's drawers cause set design is fun and aside for some weird Easter decoration that she's got out it looks like she's got a dance trophy? We know Caroline has all these different extracurricular but did Elena use to dance before she started cheerleading?

[provisionalsparkle]

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.

[dirtyhelen]

i’ve got the girl on my mind (all the time)

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Featuring: Smut; Humour; Light D/S; Vaginal Fingering; Oral Sex

Words: 4299

Summary: Carol’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie is loose around her neck. Her eyes scan the room absently until her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and giving you a wink. 

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away.” 

“What—why?” 

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you here for either.” 

(Spoiler alert: it’s the second one.)

A/N: Woman Cozily Cupping Mug Secretly Thinking About Getting Absolutely Railed by Carol Danvers. This is just a silly little smutfic that I had way too much fun writing. Hope you enjoy! Title from Girls by Beatrice Eli.

“Hey.”

You look up from your computer screen to find Carol Danvers standing in your office doorway, still in her suit from the mission you’re currently writing your report on. She’s looking at you with the confident little half-smile you’ve become very familiar with over the past few weeks. It’s a look that never fails to bring a heat to your cheeks. And other places.

“Uh, hi,” you manage. You can see Bucky smirking at you from his spot lounging on your office sofa, his broken arm resting in a sling against his chest.

“Thanks for your help back there,” Carol says. “You too, Barnes,” she adds, with a nod in his direction. Bucky’s “help” in this case was mostly leaning over your shoulder offering unsolicited opinions on your work and avoiding the many elbow jabs you attempted to land to his ribcage.

It’s not easy being the Avengers’ favourite analyst.

“No problem. Anytime,” you reply.

Carol nods, says a quick, “See ya,” and then she’s gone, striding off down the corridor.

“Bye,” you sigh wistfully.

Bucky chuckles and your eyes snap to him. “You alright there, doll?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. You glare at him and he only grins wider. “You just seem a little flustered is all. Heart’s beating a little fast.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bucky—you blush like a schoolgirl every time Thor looks at you.”

He squawks but can’t deny it. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing up and heading for the door. “Enjoy filling out your mission report and pining. I’ve got my own cocky blond captain to welcome home.” He winks, graciously letting the pen you throw hit him in the chest before he leaves.

You turn back to your computer and try to focus on your work, but your thoughts keep straying to Carol.

Bucky’s wrong; you do not pine. You only think about her when she’s around. And even then, only once or twice a day. Just casually wondering what she’s doing and if she might stop by your office.

Four or five times, max. Thinking about what she’s wearing, or if she’s done something different with her hair.

Okay, ten times total, on a bad day. Imagining how that easy confidence might translate to the bedroom. If her powers mean her fingers never cramp up, or if her jaw never gets sore.

Bucky’s right; you do pine.

You can’t help it! There’s just something about Carol that has you reverting to the heady infatuations of your teen years every time she’s around. She’s just so fucking cool. To the nerdy teenager you once were, she’s the coolest girl in school whose attention and approval you’re desperate for. To the nerdy adult you currently are, she’s the coolest girl in the universe whose attention and approval you’re desperate for and whose pussy you’d absolutely kill to eat like a five-course meal.

Luckily for your sanity (and your dominant hand), Carol’s not actually around that often. You only met her after the Snap was reversed, having been one of the Capital-D-Dusted, but she seems to spend most of her time checking in on the gazillion other planets in the universe.

At least, she used to. Apparently in the last few months she’s decided to reconnect with her birthplace, because suddenly she’s spending more time on-planet than off. This means the chances of her stopping by your office or running into you on the new-new compound have gone way up. Once every few months has become once a week or more.

Today’s little exchange is the second time she’s found you this week. She stops by, stands in your doorway in ripped jeans or a leather jacket, smirking like a fucking female James Dean, while she casually compliments your outfit or your work or the music playing from your computer. Which would be great—if you had any idea what it means.

You know what you want it to mean, but you and Carol have been doing this little dance for weeks now and she hasn’t so much as asked you if you like coffee, let alone invited you to drink some with her sometime.

Sure, you could ask her out, but you’re not about to risk getting rejected by Captain fucking Marvel and then having to guide her through some villain’s lair over comms the next day.

Shaking your head to try and physically dislodge all thoughts of Carol from your brain, you settle back into your mission report, determined to prove Bucky wrong for at least another hour or two so you can finish up and get home to your empty, lonely apartment.

+++

A couple of weeks and a handful of run-ins with Carol later, you’re standing in a ballroom on the compound in your nicest dress, taking a night off from thinking about Carol. Or trying to, anyway.

The Stark Foundation is hosting a charity gala, raising money for relief efforts for those impacted by the reversal of the Snap. It’s not really your thing, but the Avengers are required to attend and you never pass up an opportunity to watch Steve try to withhold his deep annoyance at having to interact with the richest members of American society.

“Look at his hand, Buck,” you point out. “We’ve reached the clenched fists portion of the evening.”

Bucky nods, taking a sip of his champagne. “Next up—the jaw muscle.”

“Poor guy,” you sigh. “He looks great, though.”

“That he does,” Bucky agrees, eyes scanning the room. “Speaking of looking great—” He lets out a low whistle, nodding his head toward the bar. You follow his gaze and your jaw drops.

“Oh my God.”

“Yep.”

“Look at her.”

It’s Carol, because of course it’s Carol. You weren’t expecting her to be here tonight—she’s not an Avenger in any official capacity and she doesn’t seem the type to enjoy a fancy party—but there she is, standing at the bar talking to Nat and surrounded by a handful of the One Percent.

And she’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie hangs loose around her neck.

You watch her laugh at something Natasha says, as she surveys the room absently, completely ignoring all the people clamouring for her attention. Then her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and winking at you from the bar.

You manage a little wave back to her as your heart races and Bucky starts to laugh next to you. Carol leans down to say something in Nat’s ear that has her smirking and then she’s walking toward you and your heart stops entirely.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away,” you hiss.

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you to here for either. Go rescue your boyfriend.”

Bucky scoffs but does as you ask, snatching another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and heading toward Steve.

You have just enough time to swig back the last of your own glass and set it on a table before Carol’s standing in front of you, looking even better up close.

“Hey.” She greets you with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Love the dress,” she says, eyes sweeping down your body. She pinches a fold of your skirt between her finger and thumb, tugs at it lightly. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Oh, um, thank you. You look great too. Very James Bond,” you note and Carol grins. “How are you enjoying your first Avengers party?”

She rolls her eyes. “If one more man tries to tell me about his very cool job managing hedge funds I’m gonna blow a hole in the ceiling and fly out of here.”

“That is, unfortunately, one of the hallmarks of these things. The finance guys, not the ceiling holes,” you clarify. “Though actually, that’s not unheard of either.”

She laughs, about to say something else when her eyes drift over your shoulder. “The vultures are circling again,” she whispers. You turn your head to see a handful of men in expensive suits lingering a few feet away, obviously waiting for an opportunity to introduce themselves to Carol. “You wanna get out of here?” she asks. “Maybe go somewhere a little quieter?”

For a second your brain is frozen solid. You’ve never actually heard that phrase outside of movies and TV, and in movies and TV it usually only means one thing. But this is Carol Danvers and real life and you have no idea if she wants to fuck you or if she really does want to continue your conversation somewhere she’s not at risk of being interrupted by Elon Musk or a random politician.

“My office is just upstairs?” you offer once your brain thaws. There’s a part of you that wants to say, “Or how about we go to your room?” But that’s about ten times more suggestive than you’re comfortable being. Plus, the residences are on the other side of the compound so it’s also not that practical.

“Sounds great,” Carol says with a grin, and then she’s leading you out of the ballroom, a strong hand pressed to the small of your back.

+++

Carol leans against the wall while you fumble with your key card, hands in her pockets and looking so fucking good you want to fall to your knees and beg her to fuck your face right there in the hallway.

Neither of you said much during the short walk to your office but there was an almost palpable tension that has you keyed up and leaking into your panties even though Carol hasn’t so much as touched you beyond a guiding hand on your back.

In the next sixty seconds, as your pass your key card over the pad on the wall and reach down to open the door, it becomes very clear Carol meant “somewhere quieter” exactly the way they do in the movies.

As soon as the door is open she’s pushing you through, kicking it shut with her heel as she pushes you against the wall, hands pressing firm on your shoulders. You gasp when your back hits the wall.

She leans in and your eyes slip shut, waiting for her lips on yours, desperate to finally know how she tastes. But the kiss doesn’t come. She stops with her lips just inches from yours—you can feel the warmth of her breath against your face—and waits. You open your eyes and find her smirking, watching you burn for her and you nearly whimper, another rush of wetness flooding your underwear.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself. You’ve wanted this for so long you think you might cry if she doesn’t at least kiss you.

“Please what?” she asks, voice calm and low like she isn’t standing between your spread legs. Like she isn’t affected at all.

“Kiss me. Please.” You can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed by how easy you are for her.

“Good girl,” she says softly and finally closes the distance between you. Her first kiss is sweet—a gentle press of lips, a soft hello—but it quickly turns deep and devouring. She licks along the seam of your mouth then sweeps her tongue inside until you’re gasping for air.

Jesus, it’s even better than you could have ever imagined. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, so thorough and greedy. Carol tastes like chapstick and rum and you’re drunk on her in moments.

One of her hands rests on your waist, while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you in place for her. She sets the pace, giving you time to breathe with teasing kisses along your jaw and neck before pressing her lips to yours, again and again.

She nudges her thigh between yours, pushing up against your cunt through layers of fabric and you grind down against her, moaning into her mouth at the pressure on your throbbing clit. Carol’s hands start to work at the hem of your dress, rucking it up your legs in fistfuls until she’s stopped by the barrier of her own body. She shifts her leg back, chuckling as you whine at the loss, and tugs your dress up so you’re exposed from the waist down.

She takes a moment to look at you, trailing her eyes from ankle to bellybutton and back, stopping at the space between your legs.

“Hold this,” she says, passing you a handful of your dress, and freeing up her own hand. She taps two fingers on your panties, just over your clit, and even that is enough to have you gasping. “Cute,” she comments, and then she’s sliding under the waistband and her fingers are on your bare skin.

She wastes no time, pressing her fingers between your folds. She quirks an eyebrow at the sopping mess of you, almost shamefully wet for so little contact. “I told you,” you stutter through shallow breaths, “you look good in a suit.”

Carol grins, dipping two fingers into your pussy. You roll your hips to try and coax them inside you. “I must look really good if you’re this easy already,” she teases.

She drags slick up to your clit, circling it as she kisses your neck, sucking occasionally then dragging her teeth over the tender flesh. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming, cunt pulsing as you moan her name. Before you can catch your breath she’s pulling you away from the wall, gripping you by the shoulders and turning you around. She marches you the handful of steps to your desk, leaning in until her lips are next to your ear. “Hands on the desk,” she orders.

You eagerly comply, resting the heels of your palms on the sharp edge of your desk. Carol unzips your dress, then pushes the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, pulling them over your hands one at time. The dress falls to your feet, followed by your panties, and suddenly you’re completely naked even as Carol stands fully clothed behind you.

She takes your hands in hers, gripping your wrists, and moves them to the other side of the desk, before pressing a palm to the small of your back with just the slightest hint of her power. She bends you over until your breasts press against the cool surface and your back is forced to arch, ass tilted on display for her.

Her hands stroke down the skin of your back and you shiver.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll warm you up,” she says, even though your trembling has nothing to do with the temperature of the room and you think she knows that.

She nudges her foot against one of yours and you widen your stance, spreading your legs wide. Her hand follows the curve of your ass to where you’re still wet and dripping for her, fingertips teasing at your opening.

It hits you suddenly that anyone could walk by and catch you in here. They’d take one look through the glass walls of your office and know. You didn’t even think to flip the switch to opaque the walls and now it’s too late; the panel is next to the door and you wouldn’t move now if flames were licking at your heels. Anyone passing by would see your dress on the floor, see your legs stretched wide around Carol’s figure and they’d know.

To your surprise, the idea of getting caught only adds to your excitement. You don’t have time to ponder your newly discovered kink because two of Carol’s fingers press into your pussy and immediately start thrusting fast and hard, working you back up so quickly your head spins.

The room is soon filled with the sound of her fingers moving inside you and the wet slap of her palm hitting your ass as she fucks you. Your whimpers and moans rise to join the chorus.

Carol presses close to your body, her front against your back, and the coarse fabric of her suit on your overheated skin adds to the fire building inside you. The vulnerability of being completely bare while she’s fully clothed and holding all the power has you melting against the desk, boneless and soft, there to take whatever she gives you.

Her lips press against your cheek in chaste kisses and she licks into your open mouth but you can’t keep up, so overwhelmed with the pleasure of her fingers inside you. She’s up to three now, filling and stretching you, fucking you faster than any normal human could.

She stands up straight again and brings her other hand around your hip to stroke at your clit, matching the speed of her thrusting fingers. You’re coming in seconds, even harder than before, clamping down on her fingers in vice-grip pulses as your hips stutter and jerk.

Carol brings you down gently this time, letting you hold her fingers inside as her other hand circles your clit slowly, giving you every aftershock of pleasure she can. She bends over you again, pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-slick skin of your neck and shoulders as you come down, only sliding her fingers from you when the last pulses are gone.

You manage to turn over, leaning back against the desk on boneless legs, just in time to see Carol licking at her fingers with a pleased-sounding hum. She winks at the hitch in your breath. “That was amazing, baby. Thank you,” she says.

You gape at her. “Thank me? Thank you. I’ll never be able to work here again,” you muse, breathless and hazy. “I’m only going to be thinking about that.”

She laughs and leans in for a kiss, trading the hint of your taste on her tongue.

“Can I go down on you? Please,” you blurt when she pulls away.

Her eyes widen slightly, like maybe she wasn’t expecting you to return the favour, but her lips curl in a teasing smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” She trades places with you so you’re standing in front of her as she leans against the desk. “On your knees,” she commands, and you follow, sinking to the floor on top of your discarded dress.

She undresses, but only as much as she has to, slouching off her jacket and leaving her shirt and tie. She undoes her belt buckle with deliberate slowness, then the button and fly of her pants. Finally, she toes off her shoes and removes her pants with surprising grace, and of course, she isn’t wearing underwear so you’re inches away from dark blond curls and pink folds. Your mouth waters with anticipation. You glance up for permission and Carol nods, spreading her legs. “Go ahead.”

God, you want this to be good for her. You settle in, resting your hands on the hard muscle of her thighs, feeling the soft hairs there against your palms. You spread her open with your tongue and take a few exploratory licks, getting her taste in your mouth, earthy and sharp, before you focus on her clit.

As expected, Carol takes charge of this too. She grinds against your lips, fists her hands in your hair to guide you, and keeps up a steady stream of praise. All, good girl; right there; doing so well for me, baby.

Other than the words spilling from her lips she’s quiet mostly, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, but you know you must be doing something right because there’s no shortage of slick wetness seeping from her cunt to coat your tongue. You feel a distinct rush of pride whenever you manage to make her moan.

You pull out every trick you’ve got as you work, needing to make this good; you can’t bear the thought that this might be the only time you get to do this.

You lap at her clit in long, firm strokes, not sure how she feels about penetration and unwilling to take your lips away from her clit to ask. You keep your focus there, encouraged by the way her hips buck and her breaths get shorter and sharper like they’re being forced from her lungs in time with your tongue.

“Right there,” Carol gasps. “Don’t stop—fuck.” Your jaw aches but you hold steady, flicking over her clit as quickly as your tongue allows as her thighs tense and her breathing stops entirely. Then, with a long, low moan, all the tension leaves her at once as she comes, hips stuttering against your face. You slow down but keep up the motion until she twitches away.

Licking your lips, you sit back on your heels, face turned up to look at her. Her hair is messy, her cheeks and lips flushed deep pink, and her brown eyes seem even darker. She’s undone even more buttons on her shirt at some point and it gapes open, revealing a plain white bralette and an appealing strip of pale skin.

She smiles warmly down at you. “You look good on your knees,” she says, and your face burns as she studies you. Her eyes flit from your face, where you feel your mouth and chin still soaked with her slick, down your naked body, to your hands clasped in your lap. She reaches down, swipes a thumb across the mess on your face and presses it between your lips. Automatically you suck, pulling the taste of her into your mouth again until she takes her hand back.

There’s a moment or two of silence, and as you become aware of the soreness in your jaw and knees, and the fact that you’re kneeling naked on your office floor, you can’t help but start laughing, giggling uncontrollably as you flop down to sit on the floor completely. Carol laughs too, though less hysterically and seemingly in reaction to you more than any humour she finds in the situation.

“Oh my God,” you gasp through peals of laughter. “We just had sex. In my office. Where I work. This is not at all how I imagined this would go.”

Carol’s eyebrows raise at your accidental admission. “How exactly did you imagine it?” she asks. “And how often?” she adds, quirking her brows playfully.

You cover your face with your hands and groan as heat rushes to your cheeks yet again. Luckily, Carol rescues you from your embarrassment, effortlessly pulling you up from the floor for a kiss before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Wanna get a pizza or something? I’m starving.”

+++

Thirty minutes later you’re sitting in a booth at the only pizza place in town, the two of you the only diners in the restaurant. Carol’s telling you a story about a brawl she got into at a bar on some planet called Argor while you both devour greasy slices of cheap pizza. Her feet nudge against yours occasionally under the table and she touches you casually as she talks.

You’re surprised at how comfortable it is between you. Even as you got dressed, handing each other articles of clothing you picked up off the floor and walking to the garage for your car. Carol’s easy charm and confidence keep the conversation running smoothly, and something about her demeanour must rub off on you because you don’t feel awkward at all.

You revel in the way she can be so dominant and poised but such a snarky dork at the same time, and you find her wide, genuine smiles just as charming as those cheeky little smirks.

As you’re nearing the end of your meal, with no mention of going out or even hooking up again, you decide you have to ask. You’re stupid enough (and infatuated enough) to agree to whatever arrangement Carol is looking for here, even though you know casual sex will only end in heartbreak for you, but you have to at least know, at the risk of spoiling the entire evening.

“So,” you start, gathering your courage. “Was this just—I mean, are you only looking for something casual right now, or?” you trail off.

Carol blinks at you over her coke. “Are you asking if I’m only interested in sex?”

You nod.

“Um, no,” she admits, shrugging. “The plan was actually to ask you out tonight. I was gonna show up, flirt with you a little—did you know you’re very cute when you’re flustered?” she teases, tapping your shin with her foot before continuing. “Then I was going to ask you out. But then you were wearing that dress and I got kinda carried away, I guess.”

“Oh. Wow.” Somehow, even after having her interest in you very must confirmed (at least physically) you still weren’t expecting that.

She nods. “Yep. I mean, I’ll be honest, I definitely would have tried to fuck you on the first date” she says, grinning at you over her drink, “but I did plan on there being a first date. Not that I have much experience with those on Earth, in this century.” She pauses, considering. “Is karaoke still cool?”

“Was karaoke ever cool?”

Carol’s lips twitch but she holds back her smile, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You should watch that attitude, baby, or I might have to punish you,” she says, pitching her voice low and smirking when your breath catches.

If you thought having a conclusive answer to the question, “Is Carol Danvers into me?” would keep her from dominating your thoughts, you were dead wrong. You’re pretty sure you’re going to be thinking about her even more now.

Bucky is going to be unbearably smug about it.

+++

A/N: Do I have a whole backstory of how Reader and Bucky became friends even though it has no relevance to this fic? Yes, yes I do.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed 😊 (Also, if you notice any typos or grammar mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Text divider courtesy of writeyourmindaway!

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Coffee - T. Holland

Okay, I know I have requests but this song came on at work the other day and I felt super emotional and I had to write. The use of Tom was very last minute because I had no actual person in mind for the fic, and there are very little actual defining characteristics so you can imagine it to be absolutely anybody you want!

This has broken me, so I apologize in case it has the same affect.

TW: This story contains mentions of cancer, allusions to death, mentions of death, sadness, angst, allusion to suicide, a character with cancer, and all round sadness about death.

If this content may trigger you in any way possible, please do not engage with this fic. Your personal safety and wellness is important so please take care of yourself, my lovies.

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17. Please do not copy, translate or share outside of the boundaries of tumblr without my permission. Please do not steal my work and market it as your own. Basically, don’t be a dick. Also, the above gif does not belong to me. Credit to @thollandgifs

Also, sorry the format is shit. I write on my phone so it’s hella bad.

Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head. It'll get you up and going out of bed.

While his life stood still, hers moved. Most days he could barely move without the nausea taking over. His head pounding, body exhausted and weak beyond recognition. She had established a routine the minute she could. She made sure he had his morning coffee everyday. Whenever his eyes opened, she would be right by his side with his favourite beverage, bringing him breakfast and a warm, loving smile to entice him to get out of bed. She understood on days that his body fought him more than it already was - she was compassionate and considerate. On those days she would help him prop himself in a comfortable position, switch on whatever show they were watching at the time and curl up next to him with her work beside her.

His heart was often overwhelmed with the care she provided him. They were well into the fourth year of their life together, and he had no doubt in his mind that he would love her until his last days. He often solemnly thought of the ring he still had hidden in his drawer of their shared cabinet. He had made a vow to pop the question if he ever recovered, but the thought of that day never coming simply tore another piece from his already dwindling soul.

He would often sit in his chair, or on the bed in their small, studio apartment, watching her flutter around the house in a graceful way only she could. He had memorized her every move when she conducted the most mundane activity. The way she poured a glass of water, the way she tapped her fingers against her thigh to the tune of a theme song, the way she always made his coffee to pure perfection - in a way that nobody else had been able to do.

He had so much love for her, that he was terrified of it slipping away at any moment.

Yeah, I don't wanna fall asleep, I don't wanna pass away. I been thinking of our future 'cause I'll never see those days.

He was 24, and she was 25. They had already planned a life together. They had steady jobs, an intense and passionate love, names picked out for future children, dinner at his parents house every Sunday, lunch with her parents every Wednesday.

He just knew that he had done something to deserve such a fate. At first he was angry, terrified of the possibility of his soul leaving this earth, but as time went on, his self-deprivation grew. Apparently it was common for people in his situation. The fear of dying was clouded by a justification that this was meant to be. He had done something terrible in a past life, and karma was giving him the painful ending he deserved... but he despised the thought, because Y/N didn’t deserve to watch her boyfriend meet his end in this way.

He had thought of near every scenario in his life in which he hurt somebody - cheating on his girlfriend in his first year of college, letting Y/N down time after time, only for her to forgive him. The hurt he caused his parents when he was a teenager and full of such hate for the world. But now, all he could do was pray for forgiveness. He had hope that there was some way he could make it out of this, but he was losing hope rapidly.

Even as he sat with his love on their bed, watching re-runs of How I Met Your Mother, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander.

“When I’m gone,” his voice was croaky, his throat dry and scratchy. “Please tell me you will find somebody else.” He fumbled around to grab her hand, winching as he caught her head snapping towards his in his peripheral vision. He couldn’t turn to see the expression on her face. “You’re so young, so full of life. Your life is going to be so beautiful.”

Her hand was pulled from his, and he steeled what was left of his nerves to get ready for whatever tongue lashing she had planned, but instead he felt the bed dip further beside him, her hands framing his sullen face on each side and softly turning his gaze to meet her own.

“Don’t you say things like that, Tom.” He forced his eyes to stare into her own. His eyes seemed as if they were always ready to release tears, and the intensity of the hurt in her own made his pool unconsciously. “There is no somebody else when the other half of my soul is already with me. I don’t need anybody else because you’re not going anywhere.”

Her thumb brushed away the tear that slipped from his chocolate orbs, ignoring the dark circles underneath that made his face seem further sunken than it was.

“You don’t know that,” he sniffed heavily, dropping his eyes down to his lap. His fingers unconsciously toyed with the bracelet she had given him years ago. A soft, black, faux-leather band. An unfit symbol charm dangled close to the strap, reminding him of her favourite line from her favourite book/movie - the perks of being a wallflower. He had gone wuth her when she got the titular floral piece tattooed on her forearm. She was so happy that day. “One day you’re gonna be in a nice house, a ring on your finger, watching your husband dote over your little baby and you will be at peace in the way I know you crave. I just... I know that will never be me, who slips a ring onto your hand, or waits for you at the end of the aisle. I won’t be the one who holds your hand when you meet your baby, or the one who can give you the life you deserve - the one you want.”

His eyes snapped up to meet her own when he heard her breath grow shaky, but the action caused his brain to lose its equilibrium and he had to close his eyes for a moment. He hated doing so. Every time his eyes were shut, it was a moment that he lost of memorizing every line, curve, angle of her body. He opened his eyes again when able, and he was met with her own eyes as red rimmed as his, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

“Don’t you every talk like that, Thomas Stanley. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to be the one to do all of those things because you’re going to make it and we are going to love each other until the end of our time, together. I’ll fucking Romeo and Juliet this shit if I have to,” her dark joke was met with a wet laugh from them both, before her face melted back into seriousness. “I’m never gonna need another person, Tommy. I have you, and I will have you forever.”

“You make every day a blessing, my love.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over hers as he gathered the strength in his lead arms to pull her into a hug. “You make hell feel like a summers day, and I cherish every moment I have left with you.”

My life was kinda short, but I got so many blessings. Happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending

Their days continued on for another three weeks, the same routine of morning coffee and testing the boundaries of his own fatigue. Three weeks without the dreaded conversation arising again, until she woke to find him staring into the ceiling with such an intense and thoughtful gaze. She knew instantly what was on his mind, and she could feel her heart breaking into more little pieces.

“Tommy?” Her melodic tone was soft, snapping him from his nightmarish reprieve. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing honey. Thinking about us... when we were young and full of life,” he snorted into the dark room, Y/N’s soft laugh pushed through her nose and he felt her smile against his neck. “Just, thinking about how sorry I am for all of this. I’m sorry that I’ve turned your life upside down, that we have changed so much.”

He felt weaker. His body was fighting to hold on, and he felt that they both knew that. He was being eaten up from the inside out, but he couldn’t bear to leave. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t leave her alone. He needed her, he loved her. He wanted to be her husband and give her everything she wanted in life. He wanted to live, for her.

“I would change everything if it meant I could be here with you,” her voice was heavy, riddled with sleep. Neither of them get much rest anymore. He is always up and down, and she frets too much to sleep through his late night jolts and retches. “You’re worth every minute of every day, Tom. You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not like you chose to have Can-“

“Don’t say it, baby, please?” He pled, silencing her before she could say the word. He hadn’t once uttered it since the day he found out. She had relayed the information to their families, holding his hand the entire time as he sat motionless. “Makes it more real than my emo ramblings.” His laugh was humorless, but he didn’t intend it to be so.

She apologised softly, snuggling closer to him. She knew how much he loved the feel of her body on his, how the intimacy of the comfort made him feel warm. Back when he could handle the weight, she would sometimes wake up curled on top of his chest because he had sought her out in his sleep.

“I would do anything for you, Tommy. I would give up everything I have just to see you smile. You’re the other half of my soul, my infinity.”

He felt a tear slip down his cheek. Her words always had that affect on him, but he loved the way she could send his heart beating with no effort. He loved her. So intensely.

“Sing to me, please?” A request he had let loose so many times before. He adored her voice, and the soft melodies that fell from her lips and lulled him to sleep.

She obliged with a smile on her face, and let the words tumble into his pale skin.

“If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do...”

Soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me

Two more months passed. His doctors were satisfied, stating that he was slowly improving. His body was beginning to regain strength. He had begun to grow more hopeful, slowly but surely.

Until there was no chance for hope left.

Y/N made his morning coffee, but when she went to rest it on his bedside, he could barely breathe.

Her fingers dialed emergency services faster than she thought possible, her voice cracking as she sung to him over and over, hands cradling his head in her lap as he whispered his love for her.

The coffee went cold as the red and blue lights approached.

Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head. It'll get you up and going out of bed

Tag list: @starshonerose @snookiebrookie @another-lonely-heart @mantlereid

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[prose-for-hire]

Clueless

Pairing: Angel x reader

Request: As I said, Spike will always be my favorite, but every now and then you gotta mix it up. 😅 So here comes my Angel request! 😀 The scoobies find out he has a human girlfriend. And when they meet you they get the impression that you have no idea of the supernatural. So they try to subtly prod if you're aware of what Angel is. You on the other hand are enjoying to play with them. Pretending to be clueless as hell even though you're well aware. 😂 Thank you Darling! 💞

Requested by: @kind-wolf​

A/N: I really enjoyed this one !! Reader is older than the Scoobies and works in the school library. The timescale is reaaally made up. Giles left to open the Magic Box while the Scoobies are still in high school.

[Also i know the gif has nothing to do with anything but it makes me giggle every time so I had to use it !!]

You were the new School librarian. Giles had left to open the Magic Box but still always managed to be in your library when you turned around. The excuse at the moment was that his personal collection had been left behind, but you new there was something more going on. You had a boyfriend that told you of the real side of Sunnydale.

His name was Angel. You had met him after dark, a shining ember amongst all of the despair. He was kind to you and you had kept running into each other until he decided it must be fate. So he asked you on a date. It was the Bronze and you both stuck out like a sore thumb – him for his dark clothing and because you were both slightly older than the regular clientele. You and Angel had been going steady for a while now. He was heavy into courting and doing everything properly. He wanted to keep you happy and ensure you felt safe with him at all times.

He called you his sunshine. You were the one thing that made his un-life worth living. The brightness in the centuries of black. The fiery flame of passion that could never be put out. You were his light. A kind of salvation he didn’t know he needed. All of his guilt. The doubt. The brooding about whether he was enough for you, for the world. For any of it. You filled in these cracks with light. With love and the most important thing: hope.

He knew that he needed to limit the amount of people that knew about you together to a minimum. You hadn’t understood why at first, but one evening when you had been wrapped around each other in bed, he confided in you. His relationships were not destined to last. Literally. He told you everything, almost reducing the both of you to an emotional mess. You laid there, underneath the sheets as you both recounted the worst moments of your lives. The secrets, the fears. Everything.

“Are you embarrassed about dating a human? Is it frowned upon in vampire… culture?” You asked, half embarrassed and half fascinated. He shook his head as you were still speaking, clasping a hand to yours and brought it to his unbeating heart.

“I, uh, just want this for us. You’re too special to me, y/n. I don’t want anyone else to ruin it. I love you more than you can imagine”

“You love me?” You ask, eyes shining with emotion. He nodded, pulling you into him as you told him how much you loved him back. Your voice muffled as you rested in the crook of his neck. He held you to him so delicately as if he was scared that you would break. That if he didn’t hold tight enough, you would disappear into nothing.

The Scoobies had caught glimpses of you around school and sometimes after school when you popped into the magic Box to ask to speak with Giles. Just to ask for tips on your new job in the library (and to check if he had stolen any of the dusty occult books you had started to lock away in case he was snooping again). You didn’t really know the Scoobies, you just recognised their faces from around school and now obviously you had heard the lowdown from Angel. But you weren’t so familiar that you could tell which one the slayer was if you were asked to pick her out of a line up.

One afternoon after you called your goodbyes to Giles and nodded at the teenagers on your way out of the store, talk quickly turned to you. Anya, Xander, Willow, Buffy and Cordelia were all whispering before the door had even closed properly behind you. The Scoobies loved to gossip. And each of them had their own titbit of information that they had heard from someone who had heard from someone else about you. Even Giles had become involved in the discussion as he had started to become aware you were making his life difficult and

“I heard they mastered kung-fu judo which is the most lethal form of martial arts”

“Apparently they were fired from their last school for literally throwing students out for talking too loud in the library”

“Well, they’re apparently an undercover agent planted by the CIA to monitor the supernatural”

“I heard that one – but they’re FBI, not CIA”

The piece of information they found most interesting was that you were human. Despite being the coolest librarian like, ever. Most of the librarians the student body had come across were positively fossils, most recent librarians not included. Suspected kung fu martial arts hybrid training aside, you didn’t have any supernatural powers to speak of. As far as anyone was aware. So, this became the most interesting thing about you, until Cordelia told all.

“They’re totally sleeping with Angel!” Cordelia said, as everyone looked extremely interested in this news, “I saw him open a door for them as if they were in some period drama! Way over the top but their eyes said everything! They’re having sex”

“You can’t tell that from a look”

“You can!” Anya insisted as Cordelia nodded along.

“Yeah, I can tell from hot librarian and the salty goodness that is Angel” Cordelia replied matter-of-factly.

“Do you think they know he’s-” Xander mimed fangs and held his hands up to imitate a vampire, “They can’t know. Why would anyone want to do that with Angel?” Xander insisted as the women of the room, and Giles, stayed silent. He looked around looking for some support for his statement but got nothing.

But now the fact was, they were concerned that Angel hadn’t told you about himself. The vampirism. The soul. The curse. So, the meddling kids decided it was their duty to make sure that they were acquainted with you and made sure you knew who Angel really was. Which was exactly what Angel presumed was going to happen. They were convinced that they were worried about how clueless you obviously were, but also it was their duty is seemed to get involved in other people’s personal lives.

This had been the plan, but it appeared that you were a very busy. You never stayed long hours after the school day ended like Giles used to. Nobody could follow you home because you always sped off in a shiny car. Plus, you often wore headphones in the corridors so you didn’t have to talk to the students.

It had been a while after their plans to befriend you and they had almost given up seeing you in your private time. They wanted to make sure the rumours weren’t true. That Angel wasn’t taking advantage of some clueless human.

Unfortunately, the whole gang stumble into you both while they’re on patrol. On date night. their eyes widen, it looks so normal. You’re both sat in the restaurant in the window seat and they all just stopped and very obviously stared. As if you were zoo animals. They noticed that Angel had ordered human food and had been moving it around the plate a little for appearances. This confirmed it. they decided they needed to save you. Who knew what horrible bad luck would befall you if you kept dating a vampire. 

Angel looked a little embarrassed when he sensed being watched and looked up to see none other than the people he had wanted to keep this from. Buffy had scowled at him, shaking her head. She wasn’t impressed that he would do this. Especially if you didn’t know – it wasn’t fair she decided. You noticed his look but didn’t comment until the group had walked past with their wooden stakes badly concealed under their jackets.

After your meal, you walk back together (he always insists on walking you to your car) and you softly ask why he was embarrassed. You wondered if it was because you were a librarian. You tell him you know people don’t think it’s a great job, but you really enjoy it.

“They just don’t think us being together is a great idea” He said and you nodded along. You understood. There was a history there. The Slayer obviously is the only one that makes and breaks the rules.

“Well lets introduce them to me properly?” You offer, trying to soothe him. Reduce the fretting. He had wanted just one thing. One good thing that was yours and his. “I know they’ve been trying to talk to me all week. I’ll make some lemonade and you can invite them over” You offer. He nodded, curling an arm around you as you walk together both in thought.

It had been a week and the day was finally here. You were meeting the... friends? Weird kind-of family? Annoying brats that were always under both of your feet? 

Angel had gone out to pick up some blood from the butchers before it closed now that the sun was down. This left you hosting solo for the moment. You showed them to Angel’s living room and started to offer them lemonade and snacks. They start dropping hints instantly to try and gauge whether you know about Slayers or vampires. For some reason, you decide to play dumb.

“Have you, uh, ever seen Angel’s teeth up close?” Willow asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yes, we do kiss if that’s what you’re asking sweetie. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll have your first kiss soon” You smiled at her mock-sympathetically as you turned to the rest of the room.

“What about, ah, those specialist books I told you about, y/n? Have you read them as of late?” Giles questioned, his hint much craftier than the younger members of the group. The books had been vampire history and very specifically passages were highlighted about Angels past.

“Oh yes, Angel said he would give me the overview - he’s read them before” You smile as Giles shook his head and started to clean his glasses. This wasn’t a lie, Angel had told you instead of reading through that book he would tell you anything that yo uwanted to ask. Every gruesome detail if that was what you needed. But you had told him you cared for the person you knew now instead. “Isn’t he just the perfect man?” You continue, smiling dreamily (which if you’re honest isn’t even an act). 

“Man isn’t the word I’d use” Xander muttered and Buffy had to elbow him to make him be quiet. You frowned, but they didn’t realise that you had caught onto what they were doing. Angel entered and the room quietened. He nodded at everyone but came straight to sit beside you.

You sat comfortably, leaning against Angel as chatter started to warm up a little again. After a while, there was a bit of doubt from some in the room whether meddling was the right thing to do or not. You appeared friendly and you definitely cared about Angel. And he definitely cared for you. His eye was always on you and he had kissed your forehead more than once when he thought the others were wrapped up in conversation.

“Do you like Halloween? What about vam-” Cordelia was cut off as she yelped and scowled as someone had stepped on her toes to get her to be quiet. Especially after he had already said something himself that could have made things obvious. You and Angel shared a look and then a shrug as conversation started up again.

You excused yourself to make more lemonade after three more not-so-subtle-hints about your man’s true identity and Angel followed you. Meanwhile, they were whispering about how clueless you appeared and how familiar you both were in front of them – as if you were going to hide that you were in a committed relationship. You knew this as Angel was telling you everything that they said, between light kisses he was pressing against your neck. From your position pressed between his body and the kitchen counter you were grinning as you rested a hand against his side and used the other to lock your hand with his. He hummed softly, only able to get through this strange indirect interrogation was that he knew he always had you.

When you returned and offered everyone refills, one of them asked while you were pouring, “Does, uh, Angel like garlic bread?”

“You might have to ask him on that one, we’re still getting to know each other” you smile sweetly before catching Angel’s eye. He raised his eyes at you but didn’t say anything to ruin the fun. In fact, he had a glint in his eye too. This was the reason he loved you, you turned even a potentially serious situation with the Slayer into something that you could make fun.

 “Uh, have you ever seen Angel in the light?” the questioning continued.

“Have you seen his face? He’s beautiful in any lighting” You smiled sweetly, looking over at him again. He shook his head at you and you knew he’d be blushing if he had any circulation.

“Yeah but- in the daylight?”

“No, he has a sun allergy, isn’t that right sweetie?” You smiled around the room at their horrified faces. They knew it! They knew Angel had been lying, they just needed to find a way to break the news to you. Or warn him away from you.

When asked about his (and your) sleeping habits, you replied, “Some nights he’s dead to the world” You smile, “He sleeps really deep, sometimes I have to check on him – it looks like he isn’t breathing” You have to stifle a laugh at this one as Angel snorts out loud. It was awkwardly covered by a cough and he had to leave the room to hide his laughter.

He was happy with you, the only sunshine he wasn’t allergic to apparently. He was so happy in this relationship he was often worried that Angelus was only around the corner. You caught him stuck in his head, worrying about the what-ifs but you always offered your comfort any way you could. He was glad of you being there for him. Willow and Giles had been talking of working on a way to lift the curse, or at least make it so that it wasn’t so simple for him to change back into Angelus. That was the last thing any of them needed.

The evening started to darken further and conversation had started to lull. You were trying to think of a way to politely hint yourself that maybe it was time for them to go (your hints a lot more subtle and well-practiced than theirs). But before you had chance to open your mouth, you were interrupted, “Demons. Thoughts?” Anya asked bluntly. Nobody cut in this time, they wanted to hear your response now they suspected Angel was lying.

“The ones that creep in late at night when you’re trying to sleep? I try and just ignore them, or get a book to read if I really can’t sleep” You say smiling as you knew Angel had heard that one too when some plates clattered in the other room. You knew him inside out and, although rare, when something like this tickled him it really made him smile. You just wished he had been in the room so you could see his expression. His face lightened when he smiled and you told him all the time his smile was your favourite feature of his. He would also probably be shaking his head at you, trying to discourage you from getting into too much trouble with them.

Angel returned to the room and you couldn’t help yourself. You stood up and instantly closed the space between you. You looped your arms around his neck and kissed him softly on the lips. It was only a lingering peck, nothing too scandalous as these were students at your job. You always missed him when he wasn’t close by. You felt like a lovestruck teenager when he was around and admittedly, so did he. Giles saw the way you both looked at each other. Moved around each other, anticipating  and saw how real it was. It was the same he had with Jenny. He couldn’t let the rest of the group ruin this kind of love. It was rare and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone to lose it (not even the man with the face that tore his from him).

Giles shook his head as Buffy was about to shout something to break you both apart. Something about demons and vampires. About Angel and evil. His apparent lying. To try and warn you. She closed her mouth, rolling her eyes.

 “We need to go patrol- uh, not patrolling, just – walking. At night” She muttered instead, taking her jacket and giving Angel a hard stare.

“Make sure you watch out for vampires. There’s a couple extra stakes in the weapon’s closet if you’d like to take them” You smile sweetly, “You can never be too careful, some bite” you teased before kissing Angel on the cheek and reluctantly moving from his arms which were loosely looped around your waist still. You started walking over to clear the coffee table from the glasses everyone had used when they visited. Leaving the others wide-eyed and eventually laughing at the way you had kept up the pretence so well.

[write-orflight]

Like Real People Do. Chapter 9

*Gif not mine*

Masterlist

Rating: M

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Kinda nsfw talk(not really tho) violence

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N: Only an epilogue left guys! thanks for going on this journey with me and making me remember my love for writing. End of chapter based loosely on season 4, episode 3. and even then it’s what I remember. I didn’t feel like rewatching the episode so if you see any inaccuracies, you didn’t. Much love, Cia

Chapter 9: We should just kiss 

You and Spencer have been dating for almost a year now. Or as he would put it and 10 months 29 days and 4 hours. 

After your first night together, you woke up and headed directly to headquarters after a minor detour to shower together again per Spencer’s request. That ends  up making you a little more late than you wanted to be so you end up ignoring your coworkers, making a beeline for hotch’s office. 

“What’s that all about?” Derek asks as he watches the two of you enter Hotch’s office, shutting the door. 

“They’re probably going to tell Hotch they’re dating.” Emily says, not looking up from her file.  

“What?” Derek says at the same time as Garcia says “You knew?” He looks at Garcia incredulously, “Knew?” 

“Sorry, I was sworn to secrecy. But I only found out a month or so ago.” Garcia shrugs. “How did you know?” 

“Come on, I'd be bad at my job if I didn’t notice the immediate pining looks change to smiles.” She laughs, giving Derek a pointed look. “I had suspicions but they were confirmed when she snuck out of our hotel room in Arkansas last month.” 

“Plus did you see that football sized hickey on her neck just now?” JJ adds, inducing a laugh from the group. The two of you came back to the group then after a very awkward conversation with Hotch that he kept staring at your neck for. You thought you did a good job covering it but apparently not enough because as soon as you walked in he just reached into his desk drawer handing you both the office relationship form with a simple ‘Don’t let it get in the way of work.’ 

“What’s so funny?” You ask. 

“Nothing important.” Emily smiles. “Congratulations though.” She says, nodding towards your hands you didn’t realize were joined together. You both flush, immediately letting go of each other. 

------------------------------------------- 

You meet Diana around month 6. 

You end up with a case around Reno at the time and Spencer asks to stay an extra day to visit his Mom. Hotch approves the both of you to stay behind, assuming you are going with him. 

“You don’t have to, Y/N.” he says, nervously. “You can go back if you want.” 

“Well, what do you want, dear?” You ask, looking up from the book you were reading. “Because, I’d love to meet your mother but only if you’re ready.” you emphasize to him. You knew how protective Spencer was of his mother and you were aware of her diagnosis. You’d understand completely if he wanted to wait to introduce the two of you. 

“No, I want her to meet you. I just, never thought I’d be in this situation.”

“What do you mean?” You ask. 

“Being in a relationship.” He says. “Loving someone enough I want people important to me to also love them. I just never thought it was in the cards for me.” 

You look at Spencer with a soft expression. Despite how he was sometimes with you, you could tell Spencer wasn’t the most confident. You would never understand why, you loved him. You couldn’t even imagine not wanting Spencer in your life. 

You sit your book down and level him with a heavy look “Come here.” You say, from your position on the bed. Spencer, not needing much convincing immediately lays on top of you. You proceed to show him exactly how much you love him that night. 

The two of you walk into the care facility hand in hand. You’re immediately greeted by the front desk nurse. “Spencer!” She says, happily. She immediately takes note of the joined hands and smirks. “And who is this?” 

“This is Y/N, my girlfriend.” He says, smiling brightly. You instantly extend a hand to shake the woman's hand. “I was hoping to introduce her to my mom today. Is it a bad time?” He asks. 

“No, honey, she’s having a good day today. She’s reading in the common room if you’d like to head back.” Spencer nods his thanks before leading you back there. 

Spencer scans the room quickly before landing on his mom, she gives him a bright smile. Spencer immediately speed walks towards her, pulling you in tow, you practically have to jog to keep up. 

“Spencer.” She immediately holds her arms out, Spencer letting you go to hug her.

“Hey mom.” He says, he turns back to you, and you're standing awkwardly waiting for him to introduce you. “Mom this is--”  

“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.” She cuts him off, smiling at you. 

You reach your arm out to shake her hand, which she mainly just holds for a second before releasing you. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.” you add. 

“Diana.” She corrects before turning to Spencer. “Your letters were right, she’s very pretty.” She smiles at the flush that spreads across both of your faces. 

The three of you sit and make small talk, updating Diana about your lives separately and together. Eventually, Diana speaks up. “Spencer, why don’t you go talk to Dr. Callahan before you go. I’m sure Y/N doesn’t mind keeping me company.” 

Spencer looks at you hesitantly, you nod at him. “We’ll be fine. Go.” You smile, he smiles back at you before heading out the conference room. 

You and Diana sit in comfortable silence for a minute before she speaks “Your nails are such a pretty color.” 

“Thanks!” You say, before adding excitedly. “I keep the polish in my bag, I can paint your nails if you want.” You say before rummaging in your purse pulling out the aforementioned polish. She smiles and nods at you holding out her hand to you. You instantly got to work. 

“Do you always carry around polish?” She asks. 

You shrug. “When you’ve got a job like ours you have to. Guns aren’t really kind enough to not chip your polish.” You laugh, she joins you. 

“This is nice.” She says. You tilt your head, questioningly. “Girl talk, I never got it with Spencer. And frankly, I never thought I would.” 

You smile. “Well, I’m not going anywhere Diana, so you can get your girl talk from me whenever.” You chuckle, she laughs with you.

“He loves you, you know that.” 

“I love him.” You look her in the eyes so she’d know you were being genuine. “Spencer is the best thing to ever happen to me and you raised a wonderful son and partner.” 

She looks at you misty eyed, patting your hand affectionately, before letting you get back to work. You’re talking and laughing so much the two of you don’t even notice Spencer watching the both of you in the doorway of the common room with a smile on his face.      

----------------------------------------------

Spencer accidentally meets Persephone at 9 months. 

You had gone to your college roommate’s baby shower which had taken longer than you thought so you asked Spencer to go to your apartment to feed Garbage. Upon entering he heard noise in the kitchen, he didn’t see your car out so he knew it wasn’t you. He pulled his gun out to investigate and well…

That’s the story of how Spencer almost shot your godmother.

When you came home, you walked into the sight of Spencer and your godmother sitting around your table having tea. 

“Persephone!” You say, surprised. She’s instantly up from her spot at the kitchen table, hugging you tightly. “I thought you were still in Tibet.” 

She smiles at you. “No, dear. I’ve decided to go to Puerto Rico and help with hurricane relief. I thought I’d take a brief detour to come see you but ended up running into Spencer here.” She turns and smiles at him before leveling you with narrowed eyes. “Who you failed to mention in your letters.” She says, with a pointed look. 

“I’m sorry, Phone.” You say, “Life’s been hectic, I just couldn’t find the words. But this is Spencer.” You say walking towards him, settling in the seat next to him. “My boyfriend.” You settle your hand on top of his, he squeezes you in return. 

Persephone was very much the opposite of your mother. She had long dreads fashioned with gold beads and shells tied back typically with a bandana. She believed in spirituality, often trying to read your palm or tarot most of your life and you always found her meditating or doing yoga when you would come home in your teenage year. She was a free spirit that didn’t match your mom’s strict demeanor and regime at all. 

Yet they were best friends. 

Having met in college and your mother being forced to tutor her in economics, the pair quickly became lifelong friends eventually making her Maid of Honor at her and Noah’s wedding and Y/N’s godmother. She had taught Alice how to loosen up and Alice taught her many things like caring for others before herself. After her passing, Persephone dedicated her life to helping others as well as raising Alice and Noah’s daughter. Not that much ‘raising’ went on, you were a very independent child. Just like your mother. 

Persephone sits and has tea with you guys for a while before announcing her flight is leaving soon. The two of you offer to take her to the airport but she refuses your offer so you opt to just walk her out. 

“It was nice to see you, Persephone.” You say, hugging her as she leaves. 

“You too, sweetheart.” she says, before leaning to whisper to you. “Hold on to that one, He seems to keep you balanced.” 

“Trust me, I am.” you smile. 

---------------------------------------------------------

Fights happen. Just like with any other couple. 

When you first move in together at 10 months they happen a lot as you adjust to each other's habits. Like Spencer never hanging up his towel or you leaving your makeup on the bathroom sink. But you get used to it as you get used to each other. 

Sex is good, great even. You’d never been with a guy who was so intuitive of your body. He treated you like you were a puzzle he had to solve every night. Finding new ways to get you off, what you liked, didn’t like, what made you mad. Sometimes he’d just tease you for hours until you were begging for his cock. Sometimes you’d push his buttons all day just so as soon as you got home, he’d lay you on the nearest surface and fuck you until it was hard to walk the next morning. Sometimes he was brutal, leaving bruises you weren’t aware were forming at the time and most times, he was doting. Treating you like you were the most fragile yet most important thing in his life because, well, sometimes you were. 

The nightmares never stopped. You were foolish to think now that Spencer was in your bed every night they would. You’d wake up gasping most nights, thankfully not waking Spencer, then you’d make a cup of tea to calm yourself down before joining him back in bed. Some nights, you’d wake up screaming. For your parents, Spencer, anyone. He’d wake up then, instantly cradling you in his arms while you sobbed into his bare shoulder. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t affect your work like you thought being an open couple would. If anything it made you work better together which is why Hotch sent the both of you on this case today. You were to go undercover as social workers to investigate what you believed to be a cult. 

You were interviewing some of the children when the first shots rang out and you two and the social worker you had come with were ushered in a tunnel underground with the other women and children. You were trying to keep your cover and remain calm but you couldn’t help but look at Spencer in worry. The woman you had come in with had been shot and it was starting to look like Waco in here. Spencer was looking back at you with the same look, praying this wouldn’t be the last moment you had together because you couldn’t hold each other like you wanted to. 

The leader came in later with his goons storming up to you and Spencer. “You know, I just heard something real interesting on the news.” He said, casting a dark look to the both of you. “That there are two FBI agents being held hostage inside. Now, imagine my shock when I saw that because as i was told by the two of you, there was only one and that she was dead on the floor. So…” his goons leveled their guns at you. “Who is it?” 

Though you hadn’t necessarily shared your thoughts with Spencer, you’d hoped he came to the same conclusion you had regarding the man’s profile. He was a narcissist and charismatic sure, but he was violent and willing to do whatever it took to get his way. You also knew he wouldn’t kill a woman. Sure, he’d hurt and maim but you knew if he found out Spencer was an agent, he would kill him, no hesitation. 

You knew what you had to do. 

“Me.” you said instantly “It’s me.” Spencer tries to not blow the cover you just gave him but he looks at you with a shocked pained look. “I’m Agent Y/N Y/L/N.” 

The man’s goons look at him for instruction. He gestures for them to lower their guns and you think for a second you’ll be fine. But then the man is gripping you roughly by your hair dragging you out the room by your roots while Spencer watches in horror. 

The first hit takes you by surprise, it shouldn't have, you knew it was coming as soon as he dragged you into a room alone. It was best to not fight back so you just became his punching bag. You knew the team had to be listening to what was happening to you, you knew they’d risk the whole case if it meant getting you out of danger. You needed a way to let them know you were fine. 

“I can take it.” You say, to the air really. “I can take it.” 

“You can take it, huh?” The man grabs your hair roughly again before landing another punch.

-------------------------------------------------

You were now captive alone in a room. Of course you’d prefer not to be but if you were comparing rooms you’ve been captive in at least the digs here were sweeter. 

You’d found a way to get in communication with Derek, with you moving the blinds with your boot to speak and him using morse code. You were suddenly thankful for that weekend Spencer got bored and forced you to learn morse code because now you knew there was a bomb and they were planning on setting it off with everyone inside. 

You had to get out, but more importantly you had to get these women and children out first which made you try to break down the woman who was checking on you’s defenses. You knew she was the one who made the call to social services in the first place. You knew you could get her to do the right thing if it meant protecting the children. So you made her aware of your plan, get the women and children back into the tunnels and out of the compound before all hell could break loose.

You could really only hope Spencer was holding his own. 

--------------------------------------------------

Spencer had made it out just barely in time and not in the best of shape that didn’t stop him from immediately looking for you. He searched around frantically until his eyes landed on the woman he knew made the 911 call, corralling a bunch of children. He approached her hoping she knew something. 

“The agent he took earlier. Where is she?” he asked, panicked. 

“She came with us but we lost one of the toddlers she ran back inside to get him. I never saw her come back out.” She said sadly.

Spencer’s eyes leveled back to the burning building trying to keep his tears at bay. He was a scientist, he knew the odds if she had truly gone back inside considering where the blast was located she couldn’t have survived. He choked as heavy sobs racked through him, turning away from the building because he couldn’t watch the sight of something that had taken the love of his life. He was so distraught he almost didn’t catch the melodic voice behind him. 

“I’m sure we can find you a new stuffed lamb, honey.” You say to the 5 year old cradled in your arms. There’s a reason you're not a firefighter. You were not cut out for the running into burning buildings business, you felt fine but you were sure you’d be coughing up black for days. You approached the back of the ambulance. “Can you go with this nice man for me? He’s going to make you feel all better, alright?” The child nods shyly into your neck before you hand him off to the EMT. You look around before your eyes land instantly on Spencer, who looked like he’d been crying. You couldn’t help the stray tears they fell from your face as you jogged (well, limped) towards him. He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist letting you cling tightly to his shoulders. 

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Am I okay?” He says, incredulously. “Yea, I’m fine Y/N. Are you ok?” He says, you nod. 

“A little sore but I’m fine.” You wipe the stray tears from his face. “What’s wrong?” 

“They said you ran back in. I- I thought--” 

“I’m not.” You assure him, knowing what he was about to say. “I’m alright, Spen.” 

“Marry me.” 

That makes you stop in your tracks. You look him in his eyes, they’re soft and genuine looking back at you. “What?” you say. 

He reaches into his jacket's upper pocket, producing a ring. “I was going to wait until our anniversary, I was going to take you back to the planetarium and rent it out so we could have it to ourselves. I had a whole idea but considering how you like to scare me every couple months with a near death experience.” You chuckle slightly at the annoyance in his voice. Before he looks back at you with so much love and admiration. “I can’t live another second without you knowing I want you to be my wife so…” He gets down on one knee. It’s not at all how you pictured your proposal, definitely not with cop lights flashing and ambulance sirens, and the smell of burning wood. But because it’s Spencer. Because it’s you. And because you’re both still breathing and alive. It’s perfect. Just like everything always seems to be when you’re together. “Will you marry me, please?” he asked again. 

“Yes.” You say. “Of course.” You add laughing. He slips the ring on your finger and doesn’t even feel like extra weight on your hand. In fact it feels like for the first time in your life, it’s right. He sweeps you into a bruising kiss. You don’t even notice the team watching and smiling, misty eyed. Only thing you notice is the comforting weight of Spencer near you and how in that exact moment the world feels still.

Taglist: @haylaansmi​     @yoruebeautiful​ @kianagilder-blog​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @bihoeofmanyfandoms @dreamer7black​ @baby-banana​ @drreidshands​ @blameitonthenight21​ @slyskyeey​ @liaabsurd​ @di-essere-amato​ @oliviamaerose​ @nightlygiggless​ @eevee0722​ @april-14-blog​ @dilaudidwinchester​

[slasherfilth]

You Are What You Eat - Chapter Two (Thomas Hewitt x Reader)

It has become quite a common occurrence to see Luda Mae sitting at the tablet closest to the window and door in your little bakery. Sometimes with Kathy and Henrietta, and other times just sitting and chatting with you as you baked. And frankly, you enjoyed the company, she never demanded that you speak at all times, and seemed quite content when you fell into your quiet episodes, choosing silence after a long day or a calm humming tune. You had once voiced your concern for the price of her tea break, offering to forfeit the charge if it was too much. Frankly, the place had been doing much better than you thought it would, and the loss of a couple dollars every other day wasn’t going to hurt it. You’d rather her company and didn’t want her to stop showing up because it was financially incompatible. But she had tossed your concerns away with a flip of her hand.

“With the extra food you give to us dear, a few bucks a week is nothing. If Charlie wants to chuck a spat over it, he can go back to buying groceries every week.” You’d giggled and nodded, happy that your contributions were going to good use. You had been trying out different recipes and trying to gauge what locals liked best, and some things were much more favoured over others. You had discovered the town enjoyed classic pastries but also didn’t mind some otherworldly influences like Croissants and Cannoli. But sometimes that had left you with ingredients you just wouldn’t use on your own. Then you had begun making small baskets of food that were about to expire for Luda Mae, sometimes even for Kathy or Henrietta, if you had enough leftovers. That way, you didn’t feel terrible for throwing away food, and some other deserving people received some help.

As you had begun to offer more food, Luda Mae had started making small baskets for you. Little jars of jam made from the fruits you would give them and new family recipes to try. They were always fantastic and it had become quite a joy to exchange them. However, during your months of growing closer, despite how much Luda had spoken about her little family, you hadn’t met any of the men in her life. And frankly the more she talked about them, the more curious you grew. She spoke of how hardworking her dear old Tommy was, about how he would round up the cattle every other day and was always in the basement, butchering. You’d learnt he used to work in the meat factory but was laid off when it shut down. Initially, you had assumed he was a teenager. Still, now you figured he may be a bit older, but then again it wasn’t uncommon for people to start work young here. Make he was only an apprentice when he worked at the meatworks.

But for all your wondering, you never received a real answer. Not that you had asked of course. As motherly and welcoming as Luda was, you had realised the family was a big deal to her, and she could be quite secretive about them. You had chalked it down to wanting to keep them safe in her own way, given how the town seemed to react to them. You hadn’t missed the odd looks and sneers that Luda would receive from the other folk that frequented your bakery. Quiet mumbles to their companions and quick leaving were common when Luda was around. You had noticed she would come an hour before you closed, fewer people would come around that time. And you didn’t blame her at all. However, you had refrained from saying anything because you still needed the business and Luda understood. That didn’t stop you from giving those people the day-old bread and the nearing sour milk. You had no time for their ridiculously childish behaviour. It was part of the reason you had left the city. People always felt the need to judge when they were never really better off themselves.

You hummed along to your thoughts, eye’s darting every now and again towards the entrance, hoping to see the kind woman walk through the doors. It had been a week without any real sight of her, and you were becoming worried. You had a basket of food awaiting her arrival or the past couple of days, and you were afraid it would go off before you ever managed to give it to her. With a frown you pulled the last tray of muffins from the oven, ready for cooling overnight. Your eyes flickered to the note sitting on your wall, Luda Mae’s cursive phone number written, calling out to you. Maybe you should just give her a quick call to make sure everything was okay and to tell her you had some things to give her. She wouldn’t mind. And with that thought, you washed your hands clean of filth and reached for the phone, anxiously awaiting as you listened to the dial-up tone.

“Hewitt’s, what you want?” demanded a gruff-voiced from the opposite end of the phone. You panicked. Was it the wrong number? No. It couldn’t be, he said Hewitt.

“Er…um. Y-yes.” You stammered, trying to find the words to speak. However, your mind seemed torturously blank at the moment, forgetting why it is you even decided to call in the first place.

“Out with it, would ya? I haven’t got the time to stand over the damn phone.” You almost hung up immediately, opting to never call anyone ever again. You always preferred face to face conversation anyways. However, you faintly heard the sound of a familiar woman’s voice over the end of the phone, and your eyes darted to the little basket of goodies you’d organised.

“Luda Mae! I would like to speak to Luda Mae, it’s (Y/N) from the bakery.” You smiled wide, far too proud at being able to answer a simple question over the phone. You listened as the man mumbled and yelled out to Luda. With some shuffling and complaining from the man, you finally heard Luda answer.

“Oh! Luda! It’s (Y/N)! How have you been? I was getting worried something had happened.” You bit your lip, wondering if maybe that sounded bad. You were just concerned thought, wasn’t that a good thing?

“Oh, dearie! Hello. I’m quite alright. Sorry about Charlie, the old grump. I’ve been fine darling, just very busy with livestock, I’m sorry I haven’t been out to visit this week. I should be back by next.” A wider smile curled on your lips, shoulders finally relaxing. However, you were not sure when they had hunched in concern originally.

“That’s alright, I just wanted to make sure. I also have some things for you I was gonna give to you on your next visit, but I’m not sure they will last much longer in this heat, sorry.” You frown slightly but heard a chuckle over the phone.

“Oh, ever the generous girl you are. I’m not sure who sent you to us, dear, but you’re surely an angel. I’ll send Thomas down to grab it before the day’s out, okay? Now as I’ve said he is mute, but you’ll know it’s him.” You quirked an eyebrow at her statement. Unsure of what she meant. You had never met the boy; how could you possibly know? But you didn’t have time to question as you suddenly heard faint yelling and cursing from the man on the phone earlier, and a quick goodbye from Luda before they hung up on you.

Pulling your eyebrows together, you looked oddly at your phone before putting it down. What an odd family. You shrugged and decided to get back to work, your mind absentmindedly pondering what the Hewitt boy would be like.

 _______________________________________________________________

You had almost forgotten your arrangement as you were handing out coffee and cakes left and right. Around 5pm every day, it would suddenly get busy for an hour. Everyone leaving their jobs or heading to families houses for dinner, eager to grab a small treat to share on the way. You smiled and thanked each person, unable to see the end of the line before you head another jiggle form the bells on the door.

“Welcome, I won’t be one moment.” You called out, just as you did with everyone. But suddenly there didn’t seem to be as much background noise. Chattering and laughter stopped abruptly as you continued to serve. Confusion ran through you, wondering if you just imagined it all. But you turned to the next customer, and the faint sounds of chatter began to pick up again. Only this time it was whispered with hushed giggles filling the room. You shook your head, slightly confused still but looked towards the door before freezing momentarily. And there he stood. A tall, broad man, he seemed enormous compared to the people around him. Who seemed to all step back as far as they could? You didn’t really blame them, as you continued to look, you realised he had a leather mask strapped to his face, rough stitching revealed his lips that seemed oddly full for a man, but obviously chapped and peeling in some places. The skin around them that wasn’t hidden behind the mask was red and blotchy. You wondered if it was the sun. He was incredibly tanned, dirt-covered his clothes and skin, obvious he was a man who worked hard in a field somewhere. You bit your lip. Eyes travelling higher as you took in the furrow of his brows, blue eyes glaring down at the ground in an oddly shy manner, his greasy hair still wavy and hiding his face as much as he could. He was huge and could easily be the most intimidating man in the room, however, his demeanour was that of a scared, shy teenager, merely wanting to be ignored rather than the centre of attention.

You imagined with a frame like that though, he was hard to miss. And suddenly everything clicked. The silence, the hushed whispers, the giggles. And the demeanour. A frown curled on your lips once more as you started to tune into the conversations more, clearly, no one actually cared about being heard. Especially the man you had initially been serving.

“What a freak. Hard to imagine he even had the balls to walk into a place like this. Lowers the value a bit.” His friend behind him snorting. You frowned harder.

“Yeah, not like that family could afford anything from here. His mothers always around, but I’m sure she probably just rummages the bins for everyone’s scraps.” The two men laughed boisterously at that. And it hit a nerve in you. You hadn’t met the poor man before. You had the opinion that he was used to the chatter. Still, hearing Luda mentioned in such a foul way had you clutching the paper cup harder than expected, eyes glaring up at the men before you. IN your haze you noticed the other man seemed to stiffen as well, hearing the two idiots talk. But before anyone could retaliate, you grabbed the two orders. You flipped off their lids, whistling low to get everyone’s attention, including the two men before you threw the contents of hot coffee into their faces. Listening as they yelped and tried to wipe off the burning liquid quickly. Gasps were heard from everyone in the shop.  

“What the fuck, Lady?” They turned to you, still trying to cool down their bright red faces. You sneered at them before they had a chance to say anymore.

“Let me make it very clear to each and every one of you in this building. It is mine. I own it. And you will all abide by my rules when you walk into this shop, so help me. And that means if you ever feel the need to pick on another human being, you will be banned and reported, do you hear me? Hot coffee will be the least of your worries when I am through with you. You will treat everyone with respect, especially the Hewitt’s in this store.” You growled out, sounding far more confident than you felt. You were angry, but you had never threatened people before. But your message seemed to get across as the murmuring stopped and people ordered their coffee and food in silence before leaving in a hurry. Eventually, everyone ran out of the door, and you sighed heavily, leaning back against the counter.

Before you could make your way back to your cooking, you heard a huff from behind you. You turned around quickly, bright red as you took in the sight of the man before you. Somehow amongst all of the people leaving you hadn’t realised he stayed. It wouldn’t have been that you were pointedly ignoring him, the embarrassment of your outburst being too much to handle. Never.

“O- Oh… Thomas?” You had assumed this was the “boy” Luda had been referring to all the time. Although boy was the furthest thing from your mind as you craned your neck up to look at him before you. He nodded, shaggy hair following the moment. You liked it. Heat began to pool on your cheeks once more. You released a shaky breath.

“U-Um. Sorry about t-that. I just… didn’t like what they were saying, y’ know? Sorry if I overstepped, I didn’t mean-“ You were cut short as you felt a very large, very hot, hand rest on top of your head. You were stunned as you looked up at him. He didn’t seem to be smiling, but something in you said he was happy you had done it. You smiled up at him. For a bit too long, you looked into his eyes, wanting to know precisely what he was wondering behind those pretty blue irises. You shook your head suddenly, feeling his hand retract suddenly. You felt bad, you hadn’t meant to make him react. You liked the feeling. But you bit your lip instead of trying to gather your thoughts.

“U-Um, I have some things for you and your mother. I hope you like them. I was worried they would go off before I got to give them to you guys. But I’ve also added some fresh bread and some chocolate chip cookies… Luda said she had a son and I thought….” It dawned on you that you were talking to that son right now, and he certainly wasn’t the teenager you had been assuming. You wanted to smack yourself in the forehead. What grown man wanted cookies. You winced as you handed him the basket. He tilted his head, and you tried not to press your thighs together too obviously. He lifted the basket full of ingredients with seemingly no difficulty, pulling back the checker drape before snatching one of the cookies you’d mentioned. He broke off a small piece and slipped it through the slit of the mask, he made a little approving noise and nodded. Which was more than enough to make you break out into a broad grin, clasping your hands together in front of you in delight.

“Oh! I’ve so glad you like them! I’ll make you some more next time.” He stared at you for a moment, you stood stark still, once again wondering what he was thinking as he looked down on you. Before he nodded once more and made to leave for the door.

“Goodbye, Thomas! I’d love to see you again!” You waved him away with a bright smile, watching him freeze before continuing on his path home. You had meant it too. Your mind wandered back to your dreams of wanting a man who could hold you with one arm and work with the other, and by god, every bit of you believed that muscle of man could be very well that. You placed your hands on your cheeks, trying to cool them down as you flushed bright red. Suddenly talking to Luda about her son wasn’t going to be so easy anymore.

________________________________________________________________

Hi! Thank you all for the beautiful words and support! I hope this was enough Thomas to last you until the next update. I originally planned for more to happen, but it was already getting a bit wordy. Feel free to message me if you have questions or even theories for the story! I’d love to talk about it! Did you guys like your response to Tommy? I want this to be a bit of a slow burn, but I’m a sucky for love at first sight. <3

[fanfictiondreamscape]

First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 6)

Title: First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 6) aww crap the final part-

Genre: floof. Mega floof.

Pairing: Ushijima/Eita/Tendou/Shirabu/Goshiki x Reader (all separate) 

Notes: Sadly, this is the end of the Haikyuu boys series! I hate typing that up, but it’s the truth. And I can still do some of these for other fandoms if you readers like these. Also, I think I’m going to make a directory once I get some requests posted (following this, of course). Would that make things easier for people to find the request rules and masterlist? Probably - why would I even bother asking that question? 

Also, I apologize for the amount of cursing in this. I’ve been trying to cut back on it when writing, but it slips sometimes. Again, terribly sorry! 

Anyway, read on if you wish! I hope you enjoy! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Masterlist

Ushijima Wakatoshi

ushijima is a simple and straightforward man

so, it can be easy to assume that he’d want someone that is very straightforward and simple as well. 

that doesn’t immediately translate to them being stoic and constantly stone-faced, though.

someone that can be considered blunt (to a fault), yet still remains very sociable and charismatic.

yep, they’d be somewhat popular for their aura.

otherwise, i imagine that he’d want to the kiss to happen in private. 

but, something would happen during it that’d kind of ruin that.

like, imagine that the two of you are on a date. 

something very easy-going, maybe even a study date.

there’s definitely some small snacking going on, though.

so like, 

the two of you would be reviewing your notes.

the both of you had been at it for a bit of time, too.

you were getting tired, you could tell that he was too, and you were determined to fix this.

so, your plan?

you discreetly pull your bag over to your side.

while he didn’t notice the initial action, he was pulled from his study-coma due to the sound of a zipper.

he didn’t look over his shoulder until you had tapped his bicep 

(that felt absolutely beaUTIFUL MY GOD-) 

you had a simper on as you waved a small gift card to the nearest fast food restaurant,

“are you getting hungry, too? i’ll pay.”

he glanced down at his unfinished work, and while he did have second thoughts

he did realize that he was hungry when his stomach rumbled.

it embarassed him a little, but he knew that he could trust you enough to be vulnerable 

(as vulnerable as he felt being around you)

his lips twitched up into a small smile, and that was all the confirmation you needed. 

you grabbed his limp hand and pulled him from his seated position

while the normal person may have shied away, you’re dating the tall guy

so his height led to him towering over you 

and you found the whole scene to be adorable

(as did he, but he wouldn’t say that - he still had a filter of a kind)

either way, the walk to the random restaurant was spent in comfortable silence

(aside from the grumbling stomach sound.)

(seriously - both of your stomachs were growling obnoxiously loud, and it left you surprised as to why not a single person had even given you nasty looks.)

(just some odd food for thought - holy shit. food.) 

ANYWAY

when you reach the place, you order your food

it couldn’t have taken any longer to come out

and you were getting a little impatient

a little habit you had whenever you were starting to become agitated was making him melt,

you were starting to scrunch your nose up and mess around with your fingers.

you were also starting to pout.

(yeah, that even sounds adorable. to him, the view is an absolute masterpiece.) 

when the food comes out, though

your face lights up from the previous expression, and the way you just glowed in the sun-

holy-

he would die from a cuteness overload, and it’d be your fault. 

so, you may have momentarily broken ushiwaka.

good job! 

either way, you two got the food and had made quick succession of walking back to your work to sit and relax.

and yes, while the food was greasy and slightly disgusting, it was quick and allowed you more time to do your work.

though you were unaware of his actions when eating, he was almost too aware of yours.

you were actually going through the food somewhat cleanly, but the way that you smiled when you made eye contact with the food

(if that would even be possible) 

either way, your lips curled up in the most sweet expression, and

holy- 

“you look cute.”

you paused.

‘did he really just say that?’

you blushed, of course

you blinked, you stood and you came to

“r-really?”

he nods, you blush brighter, and he decides that he just has to do it now.

“can i...”

his ears are turning red as he’s speaking.

“can i kiss you?”

you nod, and he awkwardly reaches up to cup your cheek

you turn even redder and he leans in

but he pauses, and you finish the motion for him.

you both are shocked by the actions that both of you had just done

but the feeling of each others lips together?

yeah, that’s forgotten.

you both get a little closer, a little more rough.

there is a lot of control in it, though that doesn’t negate any of the messiness that comes with something like this.

two teenagers that haven’t had a real relationship or kiss, just doing this for the first time? 

yeah, this is gonna be a bit of a tough ride. 

but as tough as it is, it still manages to be very loving.

the two of you indulge in the moment since, honestly, both of you have some trouble with your emotions. 

it doesn’t last though.

and it’s not because of you two, no- 

it’s because of tendou.

the boy barges in on you two, flips his shit, and jumps the gun immediately. 

you laugh, ushiwaka smiles (see above, absolutely precious) 

and everything just slowly gets a little more comfortable between you two following the kiss.

overall, very awkward and very inexperienced. 

but still very loving and controlled, with the passion still coming through. 

and the scenery?

couldn’t be more perfect. 

private (somewhat), intimate, and most definitely quiet. 

perfect for the both of you.

(plus, you got to tease the living crap out of the giant guess monster afterwards due to his reaction.)

(jokes on him, he talks a big game in this area, but he can’t own up.) 

Semi Eita

boy here is a savage

and a borderline tsundere

so, i find that he might be attracted to someone similar to him in that sense

very competitive, very passionate, and very hot-headed

but definitely better with their emotions than he is

they’d be more open to letting their emotions out, but they’d also radiate bbe

(read: bad bitch energy in spades)

which i also think would mean that the first kiss would happen in an area that would be very emotional to the two of you

possibly a first date spot, possibly a spot where you two just share some huge memories (aside from the first date spot)

but it also wouldn’t happen right out of the gate

nor would it be completely happy

like, imagine this

sooo

gym.

the volleyball gym.

you two had your first run-in with each other there

you both also had your first date with each other here

(just, i imagine that there would be something super attractive and glorious about the gym, possibly a skylight or something under the stars)

(seriously. can’t leave school grounds? picnic in the gym under the stars, people will think you’re helping me train.)

and to top all of that off, that was where tendou and goshiki pushed you two into each others arms and made you confess to the other.

(yep, you guessed it - you’re a manager, and a 3rd year)

and, with you being a third year-

here you are.

you two are nearing graduation, 

you’ve been dating a for around a couple months,

and you both wanted to relive your memories before you break away from the high school that you’ve attended since you were younger

so, yeah

a very emotional day and following.

so, the both of you had just gone to the cafeteria, the old dorms rooms that were looking barren

seriously, the rooms that the third years had been in were getting cleaned before graduation

which just so happened to be up and coming within the business week.

yeah, cue the tears 

(oh wait, you already cried a fair amount a while ago and you’re saving the remaining ones for graduation.)

either way, you were pretty down about the whole thing

as was semi 

and the both of you just needed the comfort of each other

just visiting the places that brought you joy over the years.

the gym was the final spot, and it was one that the both of you had silently agreed upon visiting.

the stars were out and the time was brushing 10 pm

you two had gone through the motions throughout the day, but now?

you both wanted nothing but to imagine a night under the stars, much like the past dances

so you did

you had pulled your phone out of your pocket, set it right up on full volume

and played a slow song 

semi had wrapped his arms around your waist, yours around his shoulders 

the comfortable aura from the both of you made you both calm down 

and allowed the both of you to get lost in the moment

you were able to ignore the looming feeling of sadness that would most definitely follow

so, that being done, you got lost in each other under the stars 

you were eyeing the way his eyes seemed so drawn into yours, the eye contact being so intense

the way your bodies just molded together

the way the music made the atmosphere lighten up

just...

an overall perfect moment.

and here, here is where that perfect moment was taken advantage of.

“can i kiss you?”

you paused for a second and blushed, but! 

“yes, semi, you can.”

you leaned up and kissed him.

he smirked when you did it, but responded nonetheless

and, in typical semi eita fashion, it was very passionate.

you were just as driven as him, so your response was equal to his 

there was no making out or any trace of a french kiss, but 

it was super sweet and loving, despite the snarky attitude the two of you carried.

it lasted a fair while, and since it was under the night sky 

and was also in an area that was secluded, especially at that time of night.

so yeah, when you two pulled away, you both went on with your action of slow dancing under the stars for the second time.

so, overall?

very sweet, as well as passionate

and yes, while i did hc them to happen during an emotional time,

the two of you would take the comfort you feel from each other, and manifest that into the kiss

(and its also an emotional moment for people that act like semi and his s/o’s headcanon).

but, again, 

very long, passionate, loving, and romantic

(holy shit, who would’ve guessed-)

and it was everything you could have asked for while slow dancing with each other 

under the moonlight

with the stars reflecting the other

beautiful. just beautiful. and perfect.

Tendou Satori

tendou is a tease, right out.

he’d want a s/o that can dish out what they can take.

and that includes any jokes, “insults”, and pick-up lines that are thrown to either of you.

so, someone witty (and a little sarcastic)

also athletic.

for some reason, i can just imagine the two of them just running around for the hell of it 

like racing each other into grocery stores or the mall, maybe even the gym

and like, measuring up enough to tie on race wins.

they’d definitely be shorter, but their stamina would be nearly endless

but the kiss i feel would come up out of the blue. 

possibly in the hallways to tease the living crap out of each other in the middle of an “insult” battle

so, basically just imagine the two of them are walking from lunch

and they were going at it

semi, reon, and ushijima were starting to get annoyed, but they found of the things you were throwing at each other

still doesn’t make it any less annoying

(honestly, they were just staying close to see who would win or call it time-out before they reached class.)

“so what, tall-ass? at least i don’t have to duck when walking.”

“yeah, and you? i don’t have to worry about jumping whenever i have to avoid you when you’re biting ankles.”

“oh, this again?”

i think you get it.

either way, things were taking a turn for the more impulsive

you had begun to target his shonen, he had begun to target your movie genre obsession

yeah, when you both hit those targets?

things were getting bad.

so, being the parental figure that he is, semi had tried to break it up

and he did...

“guys, calm down. i don’t want to have to separate you in the damned hallways.”

you two quieted down for a bit and laid off the borderline offensive banter

“thank you.”

but semi’s attempt only lasted for a few seconds.

“okay, but seriously, you still aren’t caught up on the last volume, what makes you think you have the right to-”

“one more word, and i’ll kiss you.”

the five of you were still walking, but 80% of the group straight was caught off guard.

you, despite being part of the 80%, still refused to back down when you were still shocked

“oh really?”

“yep. keep going, i dare you.”

“you don’t have the guts.”

“you sure about that, doll?”

“oh, damn straight i am.”

“keep it up.”

“gladly.”

this continued on for a while, pushing to an end when you two reached the hallway for your classes

but tendou was determined.

and time was still plentiful.

so when you spoke next, well...

“okay, just face it you won’t-”

and he kissed you.

straight up, in the hallway, in front of the eyes of many students.

and he wasn’t shy about it in the slightest

tendou went full messy on you, you responding similarly.

the shock of it definitely wore off quickly for you.

it was filled to the brim with passion

and yes, while it was a ‘shut up’ tactic,

it worked wonders for the both of you, seeing as this type of stuff would have been expected of the both of you

didn’t make it any less loving though

(at least, after the initial force.)

so, if you know what i mean, this lasted for a while.

(translation: make out session)

yep, you two straight up shared tongue in the hallway 

(and you may have been pulled closer to him and laid against the wall as the people started to disperse following the action and it’s suddenness)

just, quite literally, a surprising mess.

and it took a few to get you two away from each other

(literally, semi stayed behind to try and pry you guys apart but was dismissed when a teacher had come by the scene.)

(yep, you two got pried apart and given a warning)

10/10, would do it again.

overall, though-

again, 10/10, would do it again

seriously. 

that kiss is passionate, messy, and borderline sexual

BUT

that doesn’t mean that it is any less loving

(see above for author here’s repetition of the same sentence)

plus the breathlessness that comes with the whole experience

holy shit, yes

plus the scenario in which it happened as well as the setting?

oddly perfect for the two of you

casual, comfortable, and open

(yeah, i can’t imagine the kiss happening anywhere but at school don’t @ me)

Shirabu Kenjiro

first things first, this boy is a hardass.

but he’s also the only member of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team that didn’t get in on an athletic scholarship.

so, that being said, his s/o would most likely be someone highly intelligent

like, if he’s in class 4, they’d either be in the same class or a higher one

either way, highly intelligent

i also have the feeling that he’d have to have run-ins with them near constantly

think like, team manager?

they’d would also be very introverted and responsible

he already was drawn to their intelligence, what else could be asked aside from basic college-prep class student other than responsibility?

and the introversion is simply because the man is a man of action, i’d reckon

otherwise, for the kiss.

well, it’s in the library.

the two of you had decided to study together before the exams

you both got in on academic scholarships, so you both had to keep the grades up.

it didn’t necessarily help that the two of you also had little time on your hands because of volleyball practice and games.

(stress runs high in this household, y’know?)

 either way, you find a way to work around the stress and go on your merry little studying way

(AKA ‘hope-to-god-that-i-don’t-absolutely-lose-my-mind-before-exams’ way)

besides the point, you had been wanting to kiss him as of late. 

seriously, you two had been together for a good few months now

and you both wanted to take things slow

but the perfect moment had come and go many, many times

and you were starting to get a little POed. 

‘does he not want to kiss me?’

‘does he not like kisses?’

‘does he not like me that much?’

yeah, you are intelligent but you are also pretty insecure 

(and also very pretty, but since people find your straight face kind of terrifying, not many of them talk to you - not like you care, after all.) 

and while none of that is true, from his perspective, of course

shirabu is just shy.

yep, that’s all it is.

he’s seen the moments, he’s wanted to take the chances

but things just haven’t worked out for him.

it’s always at the worst times, and frankly-

it was getting annoying for the both of you.

for different reasons, of course

but annoying nonetheless.

either way, you two came to the library to study, not make out in the surprisingly hidden area that you had chosen-

ANYWAY

you both got down to business quick.

flashcards, notes, textbooks, you name it

you needed it, you had it

and the both of you had an amazing grasp on the subject matter

so you both went about your normal study process 

(that had been modified to match the library)

things had been going smoothly for a while.

there had been a few slip ups, on both ends, but there was still a few more days beforehand and you both planned to tear into the study material as they continued

so you’d both be fine in the long run.

you still weren’t happy with it, though.

it’s not a surprise that you two had decided to take a small break to hone and get some water.

and while shirabu took the water and small snack route, you took the opposite

you had shoved your face into your notes and reviewed what you got wrong, even going to the extent to annotate the notes you already had with extra information from his notes and the subject textbook.

shirabu had been watching you as you concentrated, 

eyes grazing over the information with intensity that only intrigued him 

(holy shit, i sound like i’m preaching something, why am i like this-)

the way your bright eyes practically glowed with drive

god, it drove him wild.

and whether it was the stress coming to a head, or just the look in your eyes-

hell, maybe even the lack of care that you had for your health-

he just had to kiss you

(distraction, aid, or not)

he knew that now was the perfect time, that this moment would be the best time to do it

so he knew he had to suck it up

and that he did.

he was still hesitant in his approach, though.

“s/o, look at me.”

“hmm? whaddaya nee-”

straight up smooches you midsentence.

the uncharacteristically bold move shocks you, but he makes it quick

(or at least quick enough to distract you from overworking yourself) 

and as quick as it is, my god-

it is passionate.

veyr rough, very forceful, 

but he was careful not to hurt you.

either way, the love and lack of hesitance came through.

and safe to say, the messiness was very prominent as well.

on one hand, though, you stopped pushing your head so hard to study

and you also managed to take the hint.

“so you felt that too?”

“yeah, i did. now stop studying and get some water, idiot.”

you chuckled at him, but did it nonetheless.

you two spent the rest of the time huddled closer together, as well.

(you two didn’t realize the third years peeking through the bookshelvesn watching this though)

(”my god, our little second years are growing up! T_T”)

overall, though

given the preciseness of the kiss, you both felt content with it for the time being 

(i know, a short kiss despite the many times it failed? damn.)

but yeah, given the circumstance, it worked for the both of you.

the library setting, too, holy-

just, overall a great kiss

short, sweet, a little messy, and very shy

(just like your relationship lol)

(sidenote: you two got teased relentlessly by tendou, but semi shut it down quick.) 

Goshiki Tsutomu

can we cover this first? 

this boi is awkward. 

yes, he’s driven. yes, he’s capable. and yes, he is intelligent.

but that doesn’t negate awkward. 

this is why i think he’d have to know his s/o before dating them. 

they would be aware of his little quirks and habits, as would he.

but they’d have to be much more sure of themselves in other areas in order to help push him forward

he does the same, of course, but he’d have an odd time handling it.

so yes, they’d have to be sure of themselves and, possibly, even motherly

patience and tolerance would be key to support this boy.

that being said, i have a feeling that he’d try to make the first kiss happen with a cliche romantic build up

i mean, he’s not stupid, but he most definitely is unaware of how to deal with romantic endeavors. 

(that is actually kind of adorable, but hey - he’s oblivious to things like this, so tell him.)

otherwise, he started the date off in a typical manner.

he had walked up to get you at around 5 pm

you had the okay to skip dinner with your family/guardian for the night, you were prepped and ready in your flowing outfit \

(vague for personal reference)

he had also come prepared, dressed nicely and clean

holding your favorite flowers in his hand, possibly even some small candies for you (that are also your favorite) 

just overall, you could tell he had paid attention to the things that you liked 

(no duh though, you two have been friends for years).

either way, he had everything planned.

and it started off with a picnic at the park.

what else would he hold the candies in?

you thought the basket he was using was a little oversized for candies alone

and you were right.

he had everything that he could bring (and knew wouldn’t rot) with him.

what he didn’t know is that there was none of the food he had originally packed in the basket

and the blanket he had prepared wasn’t there 

(his mom had taken the basket he was supposed to use and he took the one she had - potluck problems).

safe to say, you both didn’t really like the food in the basket

and worse yet? the food was nasty with a capital N

yeah, that part of the plan was bust.

your alternative? 

McDonald’s.

some small amount of money for some small amount of fast food? 

good enough.

not for goshiki, but hey - what can you do?

otherwise, his next plan was fairly simple. 

he’d planned to meet his mother at the amusement park later that night to trade off the basket and enjoy some rides with you.

(and his plan included the ferris wheel) 

anyway, since the ‘meal’ didn’t last long, you settled for walking through town. 

and you did, but...

it rained. 

and the both of you got soaked.

it didn’t last long, thankfullly, but boy oh boy...

goshiki was starting to get a little depressed. 

you noticed, and reached for his hand. 

if things weren’t working out, you’d find a way to replace it.

right now, it was calling your older sibling to come and get you from where you were and taking you to his flat 

(it was the closest) 

either way, he had come by and two had decided to change into off-hand clothing that had been stored there 

(you left some clothes there for when you wanted to see your brother and fell asleep, your brother had some old clothing that fit goshiki)

either way, the awkwardness settled

your brother left you two to your own devices as he had some quick college assignments to complete. 

so you two decided to watch a tv show you both liked while you waited. 

eventually, it happened as such.

your brother had left his room after it was complete and, to keep some secrecy, pulled your brother aside to tell him the plan.

he agreed, and goshiki’s first kiss plan held a chance. 

eventually, as 7:30 rolled around and it started to get dark, your brother told you two to get your stuff and get in the car

“we’re going to the carnival - y/n i’ll pay for whatever you need.”

you both just went along with it.

when you arrived, goshiki walked off for a little bit before running back to you and taking your hand in his.

your brother had already bought a good amount of tickets for you two to use, so you were in the clear. 

you two had ran around, going on a rollercoaster even! 

(you were smiling, goshiki was crying - good times)

but when night fully came upon the sky, he knew he had to act fast.

and, luckily, his luck didn’t screw him over. 

the line to the ferris wheel was short, the sky was getting darker by the second, and he could see people setting up fireworks from his crappy vantage point below the hill.

‘perfect timing.’

and indeed it was.

you had been seated next to him and the ride had begun, and the fireworks had been set off. 

the lights were reflecting, and the pressure of the night just hit him square in the face.

“hey, s/o, i’m sorry about today.”

“what do you mean?”

“the picnic, the walk...it didn’t work out the way i wanted it to and i’m sorry for that.”

you laughed, making eye contact with him.

your bright eyes made him blush and your smile made him melt.

it didn’t help that the neon lights and the fireworks were reflecting in the depths of your eyes.

he knew that the time was now, but he was afraid that if he took the bold chance, you’d push him away.

you, on the other hand, had a completely different idea. 

when he had directed his attention to the floor of the compartment you two were in, you had reached for his chin and pulled his face to meet yours.

you straight up kissed him. 

this shocked the boy, but he went along with it and cupped your cheek in his hand as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled yourself closer to him

it got more passionate, and much more messy.

hell, you didn’t even realize how breathless the two of you were until the loudest firework went off right as you two reached the top.

you pulled away from each other then

and while the two of you were bright red, you still cuddled up closer to the other for as long as you could before you both had to go home. 

but, just in general, holy-

this boy’s whole attempt was the cutest thing, and the kiss?

same way.

honestly, it was shy and so timid, 

but it held the messiness of the whole thing still- 

it was still immature, no matter the whole ordeal.

otherwise, both of your romantic fantasies were met to the highest standard when you had kissed on the ferris wheel just-

mwah! 

[ifeveristoday]

I got out my DVDs for this rewatch (that’s not actually a big deal. I only have season 3 on DVD. 😂) so let’s get to it.

I forgot they did a cold open for this episode!

I know it’s for ambiance but man does Angel have a lot of candles displayed. Probably too ‘mainstream’ for his taste but the thought of Angel furtively going to a Bath and Bodyworks in the mall during their semi-annual sale and just buying out their whole candle selection gives me the purest joy. Let’s be real though, Angel would shop at some boutique/hole in the wall owned by a wizened old character with a twinkle in their eye and everything marked up 20%. Or it would be a steel and glass monstrosity with a collection labeled Candles for Men. That’s the range.

Back to the enormous fire hazard that this scene is -

Wait. Does fire burn on stone?

Shout out to the stunt doubles.

I think that Angel getting food for Buffy for a sort of alfresco picnic while training is really sweet, actually. Also, can't miss the opportunity for both carbs and phallic symbolism ala bread.

Everyone is so embarrassingly horny in this moment. I'd say get a room except they're in a whole giant mansion.

Always remember the bread! What did Angel do with the food after Buffy fled? Fed the no-doubt cursed pigeons that live in Sunnydale.

Thanks for the workout (insert stereotypical dirty laugh).

Oh yes, the awkward 'let's talk about your birthday without mentioning the last birthday you had at all because it's horrifying' chitchat. God, the anxiety Angel is radiating here and Buffy trying to smooth it over. You can't unfrost that trauma cake!

Angel, you utter dork. You're lucky Buffy finds you pretty. Very powerful himbo energy here. And it's nice to see some light-hearted flirting/banter between them.

How do you know when someone's aura's dirty? Buffy is only asking the reasonable questions everyone has.

Do you hear yourself, Giles. "I'm aware of your distaste in studying vibratory stones..." I can't imagine what that section of the Slayer handbook looks like. Are there pull-out charts?

Faith being conveniently gone for this episode. Boo, hiss.

That workout really did a number on Buffy. I see what you're doing with those crystals.

One of the sad parts of rewatching Buffy is that you just don't have the first time discovery feels of watching it - that magic is gone, but even though I know why Buffy's wobbling in her fight, the reveal is still upsetting. Thinking about how in Season 5, when she does get staked, just as she's questioning her powers - and here, where she's losing them.

Also, obvious observation is obvious - the sexual violence imagery is really, really blatant here - with the vampire crouched over her with the stake aimed toward her heart, just as she playfully staked Angel earlier in a more romantically set scene.

AND THEN THE THEME KICKS IN. Like, damn! Three minutes and you can pretty much tell what the plot is going to be - Buffy and Angel's UST is getting out of hand, Buffy's lone Rangering it, and something is wrong with her. And it's her birthday.

And Buffy's resourcefulness saves the day.

Perhaps you shouldn't be throwing knives in the library, Buffy.

Did they do a geography lesson on Cuernavaca? It's also just fun to say. Like La Cienega. Brief moment to ponder yet again about a show set in Southern California, actually shot in Southern California, with the huge Latine population we have and the Spanish-influenced names and culture and - getting sidetracked by all this casual 90s racism.

"We do it every year for my birthday," except your seventeenth, presumably because of the murderous ex-boyfriend stalking the town you live in and all your loved ones. [Or, he did take her and it was not shown on screen!] Sometimes I wonder if the continuity editors just go, you know, I'm going to let this one go for the 'emotion' and not just so years later, a Virgo with a deep-seated need to obsess over throwaway details will go into a thought spiral to make it make sense.

I think this is also the last time Hank Summers was spoken of with any real affection because then he was Deadbeat Dad for the remainder of the show. Oh, look. The Scoobies are surprised about the traditional birthday ice show that I'm going to nitpick about forever.

Oz is so supportive, and then the clunker of a 'deep' line of ice being cool because it's water then it's not. I do like the Whedonesque school of dialogue, but sometimes you gotta reel it back. I remember the dialogue on Dawson's Creek was getting pinged for the teenagers talking like grad students.

Quiet reflection. Oh you poor girl, you have no idea.

Quarterly projections - is a convincing filler phrase for when you don't need to know what the job is, because it's boring but sounds vaguely official. What does Hank actually do? Who cares! He's an asshole.

Sunnydale Arms, because of course, Sunnydale has a broken down abandoned murder hotel.

Quentin Travers. Boo. Hiss.

The scary music is very scary. Also one of the Council flunkies looks like a very young Vincent D'Onofrio.

This scene with them in the library is so bittersweet because Buffy is fishing for Giles's attention as a father figure substitute ("very sophisticated people go!" breaks my heart) and he pointedly is rejecting this for training talk.

Look for the flaw at its center. THE FLAW IS YOU GILES. YOU YOU YOU.

it's just so terrible, this scene because of how methodical and clinical it plays out. And Buffy is just not there, and then Giles smiles like nothing has happened.

Buffy makes it through another night - next day (another reason why this trial is so horrifying is that it takes place over several days - it's not on Buffy's birthday but leading up to it, so the idea of her getting weaker and weaker and unable to fight to make it to 18 in the first place) and it's time for the Cordelia has had enough of toxic masculinity scene!

Also, Willow blithely ignoring a person's feelings and treating Amy as just a rat is played for laughs and cuteness, but yeah...you can't treat people like puppets or rats [law and order sound]

I love Cordelia's coat. And also, while it does suck that she stood him up, he's not entitled to her time or attention and certainly not to threaten her. Go, Cordy! Fight like a girl! Yes! Pummel him into the hallway.

I also love Willow's outfit here because I think the colors are so complementary and warm and it's a cute outfit. Okay, the knit wooly hat is a bit too Blossom-esque, but whatever.

Buffy is tiny, we all know this, but I do think they purposefully dressed her in larger than her size coats in this episode to make her look even more tiny and vulnerable.

Giles is TOO BLASE for this scene also shut your mouth about throwing knives like a girl

"It's an archaic exercise in cruelty." SO WHY DID YOU GO ALONG WITH IT, BRAIN TRUST. (I am going to be very mean to Giles this whole rewatch, deal with it.)

"But I'm the one in the thick of it." No, you're not. You are going to be adjacent to it, at best.

Hey it's that guy!

Okay, in better lighting, flunkie does not look like Vincent D'Onofrio.

It's impossible to pin down one type of Vampire in the Whedonverse, except for the delineation between Grunt Bait Vampires, and Special Guest Star/Master vampires, but Kralik is the only other example of a vampire with mental illness besides Drusilla, yet he's medicated. Makes me wonder how exactly they got Kralik...he was a monster before he was a vampire, but who vamped him? I don't put it past the Watchers to have vampires created for this purpose.

Curse against lawyers!

Xander and Oz bonding over comic books is so fun. I regret they didn't really get closer until after Xander and Willow cheated because Oz was the one male friend Xander had.

They mentioned her birthday! Thinking about Buffy's love of poetry later on, this is a nice little detail, and it *is* a thoughtful, sweet gift. Also those poems: horny. Oh yes, maybe in a restrained way, but Elizabeth Barrett Browning knew what was up.

The Buffy and Angel relationship in season three is full of these starts and stops that I can see why and agree with others about how it's frustrating on a number of levels. They know why they can't be together, but they still try to find a common ground because they want to need the other one. They still have their identities to figure out - Buffy as the slayer and a young adult, Angel as a person, separate from Buffy and being Buffy's ex sort of maybe.

But this conversation in Helpless is genuinely sweet and a glimpse at what a normal couple at the crossroads would talk about - I think I'm also being soft on this because the other Important Male Figure in Buffy's life in this episode lets her down so spectacularly bad, that Angel being supportive and kind in his awkward way is a nice respite. It's good to be away from the angst and the horror that their relationship has had.

And the self-aware puncturing of the Moment between them is something Buffy does very well. "Taken literally, incredibly gross - I was just thinking that too". Look, it's cute and soft and I will allow it.

The horror of this episode (and there are so many) is that we have to watch Buffy become the helpless blonde in a slasher flick who is being chased by the monsters and she can't do anything about it - that she has to be rescued or die. That the real world with men catcalling and bystanders who ignore women's cries of distress is far scarier than the literal demons that inhabit the town - and Buffy brokenly saying she can't just be a person, she can't be helpless like that [like women are, still, today] is a gut punch. It's uncomfortable and unhappy because Buffy is supposed to be the hero, the [sigh] strong female lead who can kick ass and take names, and this episode is all about finding who Buffy is, separate from her super powers. Also an exercise in emotional torture, but must be Tuesday.

The physicality - the weakness that both Buffy and Giles display in this scene is so, so good. The way Buffy's hand trembles toward the needle in the case and the dawning realization of what Giles has done, has chosen to do - and he bloodlessly tells her what the Cruciamentum is.

Her tiny little "Liar."

GOD WHY DIDN'T SHE GET AN EMMY (rhetorical we all know genre tv only matters if it was Game of Rapey Thrones)

"You will be safe now, I promise you." LIAR.

Another puncturing a heavy moment - Cordelia as cavalry - I love it. Cordelia taking the most obvious approach to the situation - 'oh Buffy might have lost her memory, well he's Giles,'

I can't believe they robbed us of a conversation in the car scene with Cordy and Buffy.

Kralik had to have found a polaroid camera and a metallic sharpie for this whole scenario -- OH I KNOW WHO HE REMINDS ME OF. The Night Stalker and any number of serial killers that terrorized SoCal. Is the show being self-aware of the problem with mothers and parents in general?

Probably a glib accident.

I don't have much to say about the part where Buffy hunts Kralik because it's so masterfully done with the atmosphere and music.

Nice of Giles's backbone to enter the chat now.

This is not business. Ooo.

Buffy's "I thought I killed a man" emo overalls!

Like it's shadowy, but there's still enough light to see facial expressions. Lighting guy, I salute you.

Little red riding hood metaphor. Oh, that's so her stunt double.

CREEPY SEXUAL VIOLENCE REARS ITS DEFORMED HEAD AGAIN

Jump stair scare. I remember the first time I saw it, I jolted in the living room.

Serial Killer Shit. Why are vampires such drama queens?

THAT'S RIGHT, BUFFY DID THAT

The ending scene in the library is cathartic in that Buffy gets to stand up for herself finally, and recognizes what Giles gives up by helping her, delayed as it was, also there's the feeling of hate punching Quentin Travers via your eyes.

Still don't think she should have forgiven Giles so easily, but we don't get to see a lot of aftercare for Buffy when she gets hurt, and it is a very tender scene.

The Scoobies are being way too upbeat if they knew about the fact that Giles poisoned Buffy, which is why I'm assuming she told a very abbreviated version of events ending with Buffy killed the bad guy and Giles got fired, oops.

Xander's big strong man comment and then looking immediately to Willow to open the jar and not Oz...

I could watch this episode again with episode commentary from David Fury, but another day.

[alovesthis]

All Things Must Pass - Dean Winchester CHAPTER ONE

Dean Winchester x Female!Reader Fic 

Fic Summary: Reader, her sister Stevie and the Winchesters reunite after not seeing each other in a few years. Ever since Dean told her to leave him and his issues behind, reuniting wasn’t what you expected it would be like. Hunting, past feelings, memories and a life threatening situation that was placed upon Dean Winchester creates tension between you two and everything else. 

Warnings: None? Angst, Flashback

Word Count: 5.3k

CHAPTER ONE

Hunting was difficult, and sometimes exhilarating even. It was everything and it was a life you were born into. There was no running from it, at least that’s what you were taught; no leaving it all behind without a guilt of innocent lives in danger you know are always at risk. This was the life of you, your sister and the Winchesters. It was the life of your family in the past. The four of you shared similar stories and childhoods and even knew each other since you were all kids considering everyone's parents were hunters. 

It was rare though, you and Stevie seeing the Winchester brothers. Growing up through the years and raising your sister after the death of your parents was rough, but bumping into the boys and John was rare. When John wasn’t around, the four of you had spent time hanging out, or working on a case or two together. But when you all did meet up, it was like time hadn't passed. The two of you were the oldest of your siblings so you always looked out for Sam the same way Dean looked out for Stevie. But the way you both watch each other's backs, the shared intense gazes...there was always something there that the two of you could never even begin to explain. 

Flirting was a thing that always happened back and forth between Dean and you. It started when you were kids, teenagers, and it never stopped. At first it was just cute and a way to distract each other from the horrors of hunting but then as you got older there was some tension that both Sam and Stevie so obviously saw. 

There was jealousy among both sides, as Dean would see other girls and you would be seeing other guys. But neither of you said anything, because you were just kids trying to find some type of normalcy in an unconventional life you shared. But that’s also when the very rare hookups began that started out platonic but turned into something more as both your feelings lingered between each other. It wasn't spoken but it was known that Dean felt something more and so did you. 

And those feelings you two felt was nothing you could ever imagine in a life like this. Feelings like this could never be pursued in a hunters life, as Dean would think. You often wondered why couldn't they at least give it a try?

But losing people by the hands of a vampire, rougarou or a damn demon did make it worse to feel love for someone. It was bad enough the two of you had a younger sibling to protect, so there was never any mention of trying, not a word came out of you to let Dean know you wanted something, wanted him. 

You hadn’t seen them in a while, especially Sam. He left them to join college and Dean had stuck to hunting with his father, even after he went missing. When John was missing, Dean called you and Stevie to help him and Sam search for a while, but eventually he pushed you away to keep you and your sister safe once things got more dangerous. You protested his demands then obliged but never stopped helping or looking for their dad. It was the least you could do since John helped you and your sister when your parents died all those years ago. 

And ever since that night Dean told you to leave, you hadn't seen them again. But tonight you would have no idea you'd be encountering the Winchesters again. Without any idea of the weight they were about to lay on you.  But here you are in Upstate New York, just shy of seven at night, getting ready to solve a case after you and your sister finished a hunt with werewolves a few days ago, just states away. 

The diner is blaring, filled with Christmas music playing, families, couples and teens talking over it. It’s stuffy from the heat blasting from the vents and crowded diner. The holiday season was upon everyone, the overbearing christmas decorations and the big glowing multicolor string lights hung throughout the walls of the diner. A few stray strings of tinsel lay on the checkered floor. Sam and Dean sit in a booth, the Christmas lights shining on them as they discuss a case they've been seeing through.

Dean checks out one of the waitresses that walk by him as he smirks to himself as Sam coughs trying to get his attention. He just turns his head at his brother and shrugs laughing before he takes a sip of beer.

“Back to the case, yeah?” Sam smiles as he types away on his laptop after handing over a file to his brother. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean takes the file with aggressive force, exhausted from previous cases. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t attract a certain woman psycho.”

“Bela?”

“That bitch is all types of nuts.” 

“Yeah well,” Sam shrugs, “we’ve got some important things to focus on Dean. Like vampires?”

“So, let me guess. The usual? Dead bodies poppin’ up at night all around town, drained of their blood and teeth marks on their necks?” 

Sam looks at him dumbfounded, “Sorta. Except some victims end up staying alive in a hospital.”

“There’s always a catch.” Dean gulps down some beer and rolls his eyes.

“Always.” 

You and Stevie walk side by side make your way to the diner counter without any idea you'd be seeing anyone you would know — even the Winchester boys. New York was a place you loved, because it reminded you how big the world is, and whenever you felt small growing up in a small town, the city made you feel like you could take on anything, be it monsters, ghosts or even your own issues. 

The last time you saw them was a few years back at Bobby's when you needed his and the boys help in finding your sister after a hunt went wrong. Thankfully they were there for you and like always, everyone worked well with each other.

Stevie shrugs off her faded large black jean jacket and drapes it over the back of the seat as she grabs two places at the counter. Your hands are still in your leather jacket pockets, still cold from the rainy and freezing atmosphere of Upstate.  

"Those damn werewolves the other night...god it really tired me out." Your sister says sighing once she sits down on the cushioned seat. 

"Yeah well we got the job done, that's how we do. On to the next." You smile smugly, turning your head to speak to a waitress. "Can we get two beers over here? Thanks."

"And two plates of fries!" Your sister adds.

Shifting around to lean your back against the counter, you peer out to the people sighing in annoyance. It was either too many people for your liking or you were sick being in these diners and even the road bars and being hit on way too much by men of all ages. It was rare to actually take a night off and get one of the men or women back into your motel for the night as Stevie hung around somewhere else.

But when you did get that night off, it was a great way to wind back and forget about the real shit that no one else but hunters can imagine.

Just as you were about to finish scanning the room you feel your sister nudge you. Turning back around to the counter you see your beer waiting nice and cold, water slipping down the bottle just waiting to be drunk. Drinking together was celebratory for your sister and you, and the only time you drank was whenever you beat the monsters with her. Other than that, you'd never drink.

“So,” Stevie begins, “Are we here for this vampire hunt or another one of your breaks?”

After gulping down a drastic amount of beer, you place it down on the counter then rest your elbows on the counter, as you stay leaning against it. 

“If I’m lucky, maybe both.” You say sarcastically, raising your eyebrows up and down before rolling your eyes. “Nah, whenever we finish this hunt I thought you might like to do some tourist bullshit in the city. We deserve some bonding time that doesn’t involve hunting.”

Stevie gasps dramatically, “No motel hookups for you? That’s surprising.” 

You laugh and hit her arm with the back of your arm. 

“I don’t even need to doubt that you’re my sister. Anyways, yes we deserve an actual break. One that doesn’t include drinking to get drunk or waking up with a person you don’t even know.” 

Stevie smiles and raises her beer bottle to you. 

“To a well deserved break.” 

You roll your eyes and grab your beer once you turn around, “To a well deserved break.” 

Just across the diner sitting in a booth, Dean shifts in his seat once he eyes the back of you and your sister from afar, standing at the counter with your backs turned. The leather jacket clings to your body just like the light blue jeans you wear. He bites his bottom lip almost as if he was in agony as his eyes were glossing from the top of your head to your back and down to your ass as he checked you out.

He doesn’t know it was either of you, but all he sees are two hot women from behind and he slammed his beer down in smiles.

“Dude.” Sam looks up at his brother once he stands up from the booth.

“Sam, we are in freaking New York. The chicks out here know what they want.”

He fixes his jacket, popping up his collar and takes a step forward. 

“We’re on a hunt! Besides, don’t be a creep, there’s families here.”

“Never stopped me before.” He slaps Sam on the shoulder. “There’s two of them and two of us. Let’s get some, Sammy!” 

Stevie and you are drinking beers and discussing some book the two of you finally finished reading -- this was your favorite thing you and your sister shared, other than hunting, books were a good way to escape your harsh reality as a hunter. 

“I don’t understand why she had to end up with him.” Stevie rolls her eyes. “I get the time period of it all, but surely she could’ve fucking been the one to end that gender role of marrying an asshole of a rich guy and be her own person? She was smart!”

“I don’t think that’s what it was about.” You say, tilting your head and looking around as you think about the book. 

“Well, she didn’t have to marry him!”

“Well, she did.” You pat Stevie on her back in sarcastic comfort. 

“It’s called Pride and Prejudice! How did that end up having a happy ending?” Stevie practically yells as she complains about Jane Austen’s book. 

“Alright there, calm down.” You laugh. “I’m sure we can find a new book where the main girl doesn’t fall for a man and stays on her own.”

“Or better yet, falls in love with a woman. Could it kill these writers to have some or decent representation?” 

“You’re not wrong there.”

“When am I ever wrong?” Stevie pridefully says, as she stuffs her face with french fries. 

Before the conversation went further, you hear heavy footsteps coming from behind you. You were beginning to hope it wasn't anyone trying to hit on you or your sister and that it was just someone trying to order food or their check. 

"So uh, what's the deal? You two best friends, sisters?" A gruff voice asks, attempting to flirt as he lets out a laugh. "My brother and I have a booth if you wanna join us, or you know a motel room eventually."

"Dude." You hear another voice say. "Seriously?"

"Uh- not together. No, nope that is so not what I meant."

You furrow your brows and let out a chuckle, turning around coming in contact with those wide greens eyes you know. The guy's cocky smile fades and his mouth goes ajar.

"Well shit, Sam and Dean." You raise your brows as your heart starts to pound just a tiny bit faster than normal. It's Dean. “Hi boys.”

"Hitting on women in a diner? Have you finally hit a low, Dean?" Stevie jabs at him, smiling and looking at Sam. "Has he?"

Her head tilts to Sam and they both laugh as they embrace each other in their arms for a warm, welcoming hug while laughing.

Dean is still stuck frozen once he has the realization it's you. Still in shock at the fact that he had embarrassingly flirted with the person he hadn’t seen in two years, someone he was a complete jerk to. Your eyes don't leave him and you both weren't so sure how to greet each other since the last time you saw him.

"Dean, I know you want to protect me but you forget I do the same thing you do. How can you be so stubborn?"

"Because I can't lose you and it's best that you go. This yellow eyed demon is no joke," he says your name and pleads. "If I can make sure you go, I can make sure that you and your sister are safe."

"But we're all family." You argue. "And family stays together, fights together."

"Family doesn't let family die."

"Which is why we won't leave you and Sam to do this on your own." You make a point but Dean shakes his head. "So that's that then? Won't let me help find your dad, the one who saved me and my sister's life? I owe it to him to help."

"He wouldn't want you to help."

"You don't know that."

"Of course I do! If my dad doesn't even want us looking why would he want you to risk your life?"

"Don't you see it Dean? You just said it yourself, don't be a hypocrite and don't you dare push me away. We've been through too much together, let me help. I love you, okay? I love Sam and I'd do anything for you guys."

"We can't keep doing what we're doing. I don't want to see you dead for me or for my dad." 

Dean looks away as tears form in his eyes as he tries to ignore the three words you told him. 

He rubs his hand over his face and through his short dirty blonde hair.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I'm doing this to keep you safe."

"But you are hurting me, Dean. My heart -- listen, please don't push me out. I'm a goddamn hunter this is what we do, it's just another case."

"It's not just another case. It’s better you're hurt and far away from me than dead because of me."

You look away from his eyes once the memory of your last encounter with him pops in your head. A smile forms on your face as your sister leaves Sam's embrace and nudges Dean in his arm to hug her. Dean looks away, pulls your sister in and smiles.

You roll your eyes at Sam's huge smile then engulf him in the biggest bear hug ever. You take a step back to lean against the bar again not wanting to embrace the guy who hurt you— the guy who was a hypocritical coward that night, even though you wanted nothing more to be in those arms again.

"It's good to see you. What's going on?" Sam says, pulling away and waiting for your sister and you to explain.

"How long has it been?" Dean clears his throat to pull himself together as you feel his eyes on you, but you're not sure how long you can stand it.

"Been too long." You smile sadly at him. "We just finished up a case back in California, bunch of werewolves."

"And you're here in Albany now, why so far?" Sam asks.

"Besides wanting to see the city again, I hear there's some vamp activity around town, so we figured to take a quick beer break and then dive right into research." Stevie explains.

"Well look at that." Dean smiles at Sam before glancing down at you and your sister. "We're already on it."

You furrow your brows, "aren't you gonna let us join you boys? For old times sake?"

You're not sure why you said it, because seeing Dean was something you weren't so sure you wanted. Of course you missed him, of course you wanted him back in your life...but knowing Dean, he'd be too stubborn to let that happen. But your thoughts were shaken by Dean accepting the offer.

"Hell yeah, let's do this and get this son of a bitch."

"There could be more than just one, Dean." Sam says, as Stevie and you laugh.

"Then...let's get these sons of bitches."

"Sam, I have so much shit to tell you." Stevie grabs Sam's arm and pulls him away towards the booth as she pats Dean on the shoulder when she walks by him. "Let's let them catch up."

You catch on to what your younger sister is doing, acting like she's in her teens again and playing matchmaker. You scoff as the two of them head back to the booth and geek out over previous cases they wished they could've done together. See those two were like the closest friends you'd ever seen, and despite Dean practically kicking you out and pushing you away, Sam and Stevie kept in touch.

"Those two," Dean sighs as he tries not to be awkward. "When are they gonna get together, am I right?"

Taking a step back to lean on the counter of the bar again, your brows furrow and you cringe at the thought.

"What? I'm serious."

"Dean, my sister is not into Sam."

"Oh come on, look at how she looks at him."

The two of you glance over at the booth to see them smiling brightly at each other, her eyes wide as she seems to be telling him a story. You scoff and lift the beer up to your mouth and scoff. Dean leans next to you, staring with a questionable look.

"Gosh, you are so damn oblivious. You think you'd know someone practically your entire life and they don't know..."

He looks at you trying to understand, his eyebrows raised while his mouth goes slightly agape.

"My god Dean, she's into women!"

You stare at Dean's face as he's trying to figure it out, then frowns while nodding his head while with a small smile.

"Makes sense."

"Oh does it now?" You laugh. "And how exactly does that make sense?"

"I'm just saying, I mean there was that one time she got mad at me for checking out a college chick. She knocked me in the face, remember? I thought it was because I was supposed to be focusing on the case, but I guess not. Maybe she was jealous-”

"My god."

The conversation ends in laughter, awkwardly of course, as you both stand there at the counter drinking and letting your siblings catch up. You are beginning to feel overwhelmed by his presence and you try and take a few steps forward before he catches onto your wrist with urgency.

"Listen," Dean starts as he says your name. "The last time we spoke-"

"We don't need to talk about it." You get out of his soft grasp , down your beer then slam it on the counter.

"But-"

You smile bitterly, "It's all good! Once this case is over you don't gotta ever see me again like we discussed."

And with that, you walk towards the booth where your sister and Sam hang out eager to get the night and case over with.

Most of the night in the diner goes smoothly as you all get caught up with each other's lives and the cases you've been on since the last time you saw each other.

"How's uh, life been going?" Dean raises his brows in your direction as he stands up and sits in your side of the booth, after you sit back down from letting your sister out of the booth. Sam and her go to grab more beer for the four of you, leaving Dean and you alone yet again.

"Like always it's been...well you know how it is." You roll your eyes. "Been chasing cases and never really stopping."

"Looks like you were stopping tonight."

"Having a drink before another case? I don't think so. The last time I stopped hunting it wasn't so fun."

"Why's that? Finished all the beer in the town you were in?"

"Very funny Dean."

He sits back in the seat and rests his arm on top of the booth which are a few inches away from your shoulders. You shift in your seat, feeling uneasy because of the awkwardness. That, or because of the fluttering butterflies you got when he was near you. 

"Hey, I'm just saying. Our breaks don't get to be fun, or even relaxing. Lucky we get a few hours of sleep at most, or something else." He wiggles his brows. "There wasn't anything fun to do besides hunting?"

"After the last time we saw each other...you know. Us hunters don't get breaks, remember? I kept working case after case, drinking even though I didn't like it I even went back to motels with different people I would never even talk to again."

Dean furrows her brows in question, "Different people?"

"I tell you all that and that's what you take from it? Dumbass."

"Sorry, I just didn't-"

"Know. That's alright, I never told anyone. I didn't think it made a difference from who I am, you know? Anyways, besides being bisexual Dean, I was a wreck. My sister really helped me but I don't think I'm over things."

He leans forward and reaches his hand out for you.

"Listen-”

"Dean, I'm serious when I say we don't need to talk about what happened. It's over with and after this case I was-"

"Look, my dad died." Dean begins to explain but you cut him off again.

"I heard," your head drops down and away from his gaze, but your hand finds him on the table. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I took it serious when you told me to stay away."

"It's alright, I guess I kind of deserve that." He shrugs. "But I need you to listen to me when I say the things I said to you then.. you didn't deserve me yelling in your face and saying harsh shit. I just wanted to keep you and your sister safe, away from that demon."

You raise your head and turn back to look at him in slight disbelief.

"I've handled a demon or two before Dean."

"Not this one, this one had yellow eyes and was too powerful and dangerous. I couldn't get you mixed up with that and I couldn't put you at risk."

"But why Dean? I really don't understand why you wanted to push me away?"

You were too scared to admit to yourself that maybe it was because he really did love you. Although it was unsaid, you both knew the feelings you held for each other were real and they were there. But to say it out loud? That was something else.

He stutters but words don't come out.

"Forget it." You say, as you see Sam and your sister walking back to the booth.

"I do want to fix things." Dean quickly says before his brother and your sister come back to join you guys.

Your eyes stay fixed on him as he drinks away the beer and plays around with the new plate of fries you know Dean and your sister wanted. The conversation gets away from the both of you, and instead Sam and your sister spend the most time talking and occasionally poking fun at Dean and his moments from the past.

The four of you leave the diner and make it back to a motel not so far from where it is. You drive the truck you've had for a few months with your sister in the passenger seat, following the impala to the motel.

"So, did it feel awkward?"

"What?" You ask your sister glancing from her then to the road.

"Seeing Dean again." She shrugs. "I mean the last time we saw them, he basically screamed and kicked your ass out on the curb."

"Our asses." You say. "That was what, two years ago? It didn't... feel awkward... it just felt sad. I'm sure you felt the same."

"Yes, but that's different. I'm not sad like how you are because I'm not the one who's in love with one of them."

"I'm not in love with Dean." You sigh in annoyance, even though you know she's right and made a good point but you wouldn't ever admit it.

“I never said Dean.” 

You scold at Stevie and grip the steering wheel tightly,  “My statement still stands.” 

"Sure." She mutters.

You pull up next to the impala in a parking space and roll your eyes as you grab your bag and make way to get a room for your sister and you. As you all get settled down in your rooms, you meet back in the Winchester's room and pile on the books and research. All in unsettling silence or an occasional info dump from Sam or Stevie, you and Dean would steal glances at each other. After an hour or so of research your sister and you took a vending machine break and let the boys read this time (the last time you worked on a real case with them, you were stuck with the pile of books so it was only right).

A bit later you came back into the motel and the atmosphere between the brothers were off as Dean looked agitated and a bit exhausted. Without figuring out what was happening like you used to do, you let things go and decided that you and Sam would leave and pick up food for everyone, leaving your sister with Dean to research more through books and the laptop.

Sam decided he wanted to drive, so he took the keys to the Impala and Dean didn't even protest against it. Once the two of you arrive back at the twenty-four hour diner, Sam orders inside a bunch of mixed foods; breakfast stuff and coffees for everyone just in case you all wouldn't get a chance to eat breakfast in a few hours. The two of you wait outside for the food, holding paper cups of coffee as you stand by the impala.

"What's up with Dean, Sam?" You lean on the impala as Sam and you wait for the food you're picking up for everyone. "Eager to have us join this case and work together? What's next, singing kumbaya in a bar or around a damn campfire?"

Sam looks down on the ground for a moment as if he's hesitating, thinking of a way to tell you without being the one to break your heart.

"You know how Dean is...protective." Sam says as you nod your head.

"Oh I know," your eyes go wide, "which is why he doesn't seem like his one hundred percent self tonight."

Sam stays silent for a few minutes, as you were staring up at him painterly waiting for him to answer.

"Well?" You plead. 

"His time..." Sam is hesitant, unsure if he should be telling you his brother's truth. "His time is running up and he did it for me."

"Time is running up? What the fuck does that mean?"

"He made a deal with a demon."

"He made a deal with a goddamn demon?" Your pulse begins to quicken as your face scrunches as panic rises in your throat. 

"He's got a year to live and if he tries to stop it he'll die right then and there."

"A year?" Your voice trembles as your words barely make it out your mouth. Backing away from Sam you hear him try to console you but your hand goes up and he stops walking.

"What a way to reunite.” You close your eyes and shake your head. “Fuck.” 

Your mind is racing with thoughts and your heart begins to break, knowing that Dean and you might never get a chance ever.

"Wait, is that why he let us join this case?"

Sam nods with empathy, "Probably. I think this is probably a way to make amends with you, make things right before he you know...dies."

"Fucking dick." You scoff. "So he just thinks just because he's gonna die that I'll forgive him? Why is he so selfish?"

"Look, he took a deal with a crossroads demon. My life, for his. I'm upset, angry too but you know how Dean is."

"Yeah he's a dumbass." You sit back onto the impala and bite your lip to stop yourself from crying.

Sam scoffs, "yeah, he is. He did it for me but I just can't help but feel like I need to save his life now."

"Can we?" You ask him quickly. "Is there anything I can do to help, to help save him before his time is up?"

"We could hunt the demon down. But look, I know Dean wouldn't want me anywhere near this, and if he finds out that you know, things will be different."

"As if it isn't already."

"I know it hurts and I know all about what happened, trust me I've tried talking to him about it. I know he's only got a year but if he wants to be at peace with the people in his life the least you can do is hear him out. I'm serious when I say give him-"

"I'll listen, but I want to talk to him." You stand up and make your way to the passenger side and open the car door, resting on top as you wait for Sam.

"About it all, everything."

"Yeah, okay. But what about the case?"

"We'll work in teams. Watch out for my sister, she'll watch out for you. Dean and I will go together and I'll talk to him then."

You sit down in the car and slam the door, slightly cursing to yourself that it might've been too hard. But then you remember Dean isn't driving — he won't know. Sam gets in the car and starts her up.

"He'll try and talk you out of it all. Dean...he's pretty adamant about wanting to be saved. If he.. if he even goes near trying to get out of the deal, he'll die. We all know how he is, with or without this deal he's protective and never wants people he cares about to get in danger because of him. And I agree with that sometimes.”

You stay quiet. 

“Look, you're family and I can't let you and your sister just let everything go and help us."

You furrow your brows at him almost as if you're about to scold him, but also because you're starting to feel worried.

He says your name, “just because I'm not the one you love doesn't mean I won't be as protective as him. Talk to him if you want, just know his mind is pretty much set on this deal."

You look down in your lap and play with your fingers as you anxiously think about Dean's deal and wanting to talk to him. After Sam explains that he's pretty straight on the deal, it makes you nervous to tell him you know. You nod your head then turn to look out the window as he begins to drive back to the motel. The more you began to think, the more worried you were on how you were going to focus on this case and even muster up the courage to confront Dean about the past, his deal and the things unresolved between the two of you.

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@akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @canonboobs @vikkiwalker

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 5)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Virgil sat as still as he could in the dark space he’d been put in. He could feel the warning tingle of the binding magic at his wrists telling him not to move too much or else. He was just lucky that they’d chosen to use metal instead of cloth to apply the potion and that he’d been unconscious until it dried. He knew from experience that there was no escaping the pain that type of potion brought until it dried no matter how still you were. Now, at least, if he didn’t try to struggle against his binding it wouldn’t hurt him. It sucked because all he wanted to do was move. He wanted to struggle and pull against the binding at his wrist, but he couldn’t. Even if it wouldn’t put him in crippling amounts of pain, he’d still not be able to get away.

So, instead he just shook. He was such a fuck up. He couldn’t even remember the right room and now he was going to die. No, he was probably going to be tortured and then he was going to die. His breath came quicker and quicker the longer he remained in the closet. He’d tried to murder their king. He’d come into their prince’s bedroom in the middle of the night wielding a knife. There was no way he wasn’t going to be made to suffer for that. It didn’t matter how gently the prince and his… person had treated him so far.

He heard the muffled sounds of people approaching the closet and curled into himself. Oh, god he was going to die. He had been breathing quickly, but now he couldn’t breathe at all. It felt like someone had poured tar into his lungs. The closet door opened, and he flinched, curled into a ball and choking on nothing.

“Hey, hey,” a familiar voice said. Patton, Virgil’s mind offered: the other guy with the prince. When Virgil managed to flick his eyes open, he saw Patton had gotten to his knees in front of him. He dully noted that the boy had reached out and touched his shoulder. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. Can you breathe for me?”

What was the point? He wondered, but after a few moments, he managed to suck in a couple of breaths.

When he managed to calm enough to look around, he noticed that instead of there being a bunch of castle guards standing around waiting to drag him off to some dungeon, it was just the prince and Patton again. He blinked up at them in confusion.

“There’s been a change of plans,” the prince explained.

“What?” Virgil asked dumbly. “What do you mean?”

“My father is going to be away for the next three weeks,” the prince said. “Considering you didn’t kill the guards and your only targets seems to be my father and perhaps myself, you are likely not a real danger to anyone if you escape and I’m willing to take the risk with myself. With that in mind, Patton and I have decided not to turn you in yet.”

Well what the hell did that mean? Was that good or bad? On one hand, it meant that he wouldn’t be executed yet, but what exactly did the prince want with him?

As Virgil began to freak out about the possibilities, the prince continued to speak, seemingly more to himself than to Virgil or Patton.

“We will need to figure out how to care for you in the interim. We’ll have to provide you with more food than just snacks as well as find you a place to sleep. At least one of us will have to be with you at all times, and with Father gone, I’ll have to attend to some royal duties. Luckily it isn’t strange for Patton to come into my quarters at will.” He considered Virgil with discerning eyes. “Also, your general health seems to be lacking, so I’ll have to account for preexisting conditions. First thing, first though. I imagine keeping you in those bracelets all the time would be impractical. We’ll need another solution, especially for sleep.”

Virgil did not like the sound of that. He assumed based on what the prince had done so far that he’d enact some sort of magical bondage. From Virgil’s experience, magical bondage ranged from unpleasant to legitimately agonizing.

“Patton, if you will watch him for the time being, I need to go work on a more precise binding potion then the one I’ve been using.”

“Sure,” Patton agreed, but the prince was wondering away before he’d even finished the word. Patton shook his head fondly before turning back to Virgil. “Wanna come out of the closet now?”

He really, really didn’t, but he was pretty sure he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He curled his legs into himself as much as he could and waited to be dragged out into the room, but he wasn’t touched.

“Okay,” Patton said. “That’s fine. It’s a pretty nice closet.” Virgil said nothing but did breathe a sigh of relief about being able to stay. It wasn’t very rational because in actuality he was no safer here than anywhere else in the room, but the closet felt more defensible even if they could drag him out of it whenever they wanted.

Patton seemed content to sit outside the closet and leave him in peace for the moment. A few minutes later Patton made a sound and Virgil looked over to see him yawn. He smiled when he saw Virgil watching. “It was a long night for all of us, I imagine,” he said. “Hmm… actually. Wait there.”

Like he could go anywhere else. He couldn’t get a good enough angle to see what Patton was doing, but he could here him moving around the room and rustling through a few things. He came back into view holding a comical number of pillows and blankets.

“Here,” Patton said. He offered Virgil one of the blankets and then seemed to remember that Virgil could not reach out to take it. “Hmm…” He spread out the blanket next to Virgil. “Do you mind if I touch you?”

“Why are you even asking?” Virgil asked. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Patton frowned and Virgil scrunched into himself at the expression, but it lightened the next moment. “I know it’s a bit of a bad situation and you are technically a prisoner, but I don’t want to hurt you or make you feel bad,” Patton said.

Virgil didn’t know how to respond to that. There was no way that it wasn’t some sort of trick, but he didn’t dare outright say that he thought that.

“Can I touch you a bit?” Patton asked once again. “Just to help you get onto the blanket.”

“Sure,” Virgil agreed.

The other boy smiled sweetly and grabbed his wrists with gentle fingers. Virgil let his whole body follow Patton’s guidance until he was situated rather comfortably on an unbelievably soft blanket.

“Head,” Patton said, holding up a pillow. Virgil lifted his head slightly and the pillow was shoved underneath it.

Another blanket was settled over him the next. Patton was weird. “There you go!” Patton said. “Now you can take a nap.”

Virgil blinked up at him in confusion. That was… not happening. What exactly about this situation did Patton think was conducive to sleep?

“…Or rest comfortably at least,” Patton said after a moment. He arranged a pillow and blanket for himself and laid on his side, so he was facing Virgil. He yawned slightly again but didn’t close his eyes. They stared at each other for an uncomfortably long moment.

“What are we doing?” Virgil finally asked when he realized Patton was not planning to ever break the awkward silence.

“We’re resting,” Patton said, “and hanging out.”

“Hanging out?” Virgil asked.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton said popping up onto his elbow to peer at him. “Let’s talk some! We can get to know each other.”

Virgil looked at him suspicious about where this was going. “Talk about what?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

Patton hummed a quiet tune and his fingers tapped against the side of his face as he wiggled a bit back and forth. “Do you like cats?”

“Cats?” Virgil asked. “Uh… sure?”

“I love cats,” Patton divulged. “There are a lot of cats in the castle. Not all of them like people very much, but I like to try to pet them! I even made up a game where I get points for every cat that lets me pet it. The grumpier they are, the more points I get!”

“You… try to pet wild cats?” Virgil asked.

“Uh huh!”

Virgil thought back to the few untamed cats he’d met in his life. “Don’t they… try to murder you.”

“Sometimes,” Patton said with a shrug. He moved his arm suddenly and Virgil startled, but he just rolled down his sleeve so Virgil could see a large, fairly fresh-looking scratch on his arm. “This one’s from Mr. Calico Man. He does not like his ears touched apparently, but he will let me give him chin scratchies!”

This boy was insane.

“I think I’ve pet every single cat in the castle at least once, except for Ghost Kitty.”

“Who is Ghost Kitty?”

“Oh, Ghost Kitty is the prettiest thing in the world,” Patton gushed. “She hangs out in the gardens a lot, but no one can get anywhere near her. She’s completely black and only started showing up around a year ago. I can’t even see her for more than 2 seconds at a time let alone try to pet her, but I will someday and on that day, I’ll get 1,000 points!”

“How many points are they usually?”

“For ones like Mittens and Cleo who I’ve known since they were babies, only 1. For Sandra it’s 5 since she can get a bit tetchy, but usually won’t run away. Lily Flower and Red Hot like to run away but won’t try to scratch me if I do catch them so they’re 10. Ones like Mr. Calico Man are worth 100.”

“So, you are going to try to pet a cat that is 10x more feral than the one that slashed your arm?”

“She’s so pretty!”

“You have no survival instincts whatsoever, do you?” Virgil asked.

Patton smiled wryly at him. “I apparently have a couple,” he said.

Virgil blinked at him and thought back, connecting the dots. Only Patton and the prince knew he was here, and the prince had been in front of him when he’d came into the room… “You were the one to knock me unconscious,” he concluded.

“I’d say sorry, but you were coming in here with the intention of hurting someone I care about,” Patton said with a shrug.

Right. Virgil had almost forgotten amongst his soft tone and gentle countenance that the man laying docilly next to him definitely hated his guts and would probably relish in whatever the prince had planned for him.

Virgil let his fists clench, but otherwise didn’t let onto his distress as Patton softly brought the conversation back to the previous topic and continued to ramble on about the different cats of the castle.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 6

[bansept]

Let’s dance

/NSFW WORK/

While it’s not the absolute worse, nor the absolute best I could come up with, it’s a pretty nice start of the maybe long series of NSFW scrabbles for my dear Ichihime fandom!

To anyone who was a bit thirsty, I give you this fresh refreshment that I hope isn’t that bad!

DANCER ORIHIME X STUDENT ICHIGO

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Blurry windows and foggy mirror, heavy breaths and skin burning.

The light was shining on them, their sweaty bodies moving in rhythm with the music, the gentle voice of the instructor ordering them around, making each movement matter.

Now, if anyone had told Ichigo he would be taking dancing lessons, staring at his reflection in half anger, half concentration and listening to young teenage girls giggle behind him, he would have slapped them. Not because dancing was shameful, because frankly, it definitely was not. Well, except for some dances, like the macarena or shit like that. No actually, Ichigo would not have believed himself for agreeing to come to dancing lessons to stare at the instructor.

As in, gawk at her.

.

.

.

Ichigo Kurosaki’s week had started as normally as any other week : waking up early, drinking liters of coffee, going to work on some english literature thesis, eating with some friends and coming back home to work until way too late at night, and starting over again.

Yes, he had been told several times by everyone he knew that coffee was bad when it was too much, yes, he had been told to work better on his thesis if he wanted to study and teach Shakespeare. Easier said than done, and that was why his friends had kept rumbling about either taking a break, thank you Chad, or stoping any distractions and really work, fuck you Uryu.

He was sitting across them, stirring his lunch leftovers slowly while the tall half Japanese half Mexican giant was pushing his hair out of his eyes, looking around them as Uryu was probably talking to him. Ichigo tended to not care much.

“So you better get back on track before your old man decides to stop…”

“He’s not lending me money anymore. I work now, you know?”

Uryu threw Ichigo a quite unimpressed look, closing his mouth only to push his glasses up his straight nose. Chad was holding back a tiny smile, but Ichigo of course saw it.

“Giving lessons to kids and working part time in a dojo isn’t really enough to pay for important studies. Or keep you floating like now for the rest of your little life.”

Ichigo gritted his teeth together, a hand digging in his pocket to hold onto his phone, anything hard to stop him from throwing hands with his friend. He really wondered how or why he even talked with the blue-eyed man in front of him.

“Excuse me?” A voice came from the side, clear and ringing in his ear loud enough for Ichigo to turn his head around. Any distraction was good enough to momentarily wipe Uryu from his mind.

Ichigo felt his grip on his phone loosen, just like his jaw.

The angelic voice that had called them was probably the most angelic form of life on Earth, putting to shame anything renowned painters and, god forbid, even Shakespeare, had ever described. With long, fluffy and so exquisitely soft looking auburn hair, bright grey eyes surrounded by a round face, with subtile eyebrows, a cute little nose and, fuck, pillowy lips…

The young and oh so magnificent woman was slightly leaning towards them, an inviting smile on her face while her slender hand was handing over rosy flyers.

“I’m sorry to bother you, gentlemen, but we are offering free dancing lessons to promote the opening of our new dance studio.” A sweet smile and Ichigo felt his eyes widen further. “Would you be interested?”

With the push of his friends, and because he was perfectly unable to say no to such a goddess, Ichigo was the only one to accept, the other two finding some kind of weird excuse. But really, the young man was perfectly fine in agreeing to go alone there.

.

.

.

What a fantastic recruit they had chosen for the job, he marvelled, walking down the sunny streets with his backpack, staring at the flyer that the gorgeous woman had given him. He wondered if she would be here, in this class, jumping around in sportswear and doing whatever dance lessons did. Ichigo snickered when he realized he’d be one of the idiots doing those idiocities too.

After a good 15 minute-walk, the orange-haired man stood right at the front of a brand new building, the white walls making the golden-ish design of the sign shining in the sunlight. Windows with closed curtains made him raise an eyebrow, but he still entered the dimly lit building, the office desk standing elegantly, but alone.

“Hello?” He asked, voice calling out in the empty space.

God, he hoped he had not arrived too late. Or worse, too early. Ichigo hated to appear eager, even if his brain reminded him that, actually, he was.

A few quick steps rushed on the clean floor, the young woman appearing from the corner of a room, head out of a door, that certainly led to the dance floor. Damn, he hated that word, but like the way her face lit up seeing him.

“Oh! You came!”

Now, if his heart had jumped when Ichigo had first seen her, now something else did when she walked up to him in tight clothing, working out clothing, that hugged everything and didn’t leave much to the imagination. The man quickly got his backpack into his hands and placed it in front of his groin. Breathe in, you can do it.

“Well, huh, I told you I would come, right?” He chuckled airily, watching her smile again, her shoulders lifting up in happiness, her breasts bouncing NO DON’T THINK ABOUT IT.

“Thank you for coming, sir. You are right on time for the 3PM lesson. Others should come, but classes are mostly in the morning. Though I could make an exception for you!”

She brought her hands together in a small clap, and Ichigo did blush but desperately hoped it didn’t show.

It did, and the young woman pointed at the door in the back, with written in both English and Japanese “changing room”.

“You can go get changed, here is the key. Please be ready in 10 minutes.” she bowed to him slightly and walked back to the studio, slower than when she came in, and Ichigo felt his eyes trailing after her, impossible to stop himself or walk ahead as long as she was in here.

“I’m fucked.”

.

.

.

Yes, he was.

His young, overactive and definitely way too interested brain had created this mental image of dancing lessons, yoga sessions and massages to be a place of filth, where people turned into beasts and let nature rule them over as one of them was bended over a table while the other pounded in them. Instinctively, the clever and thinking part of said brain had stopped the idea, assuring him they were only fantasies young people in rut had twisted to fit their horny selves.

Unfortunately, part A of the brain had been right, and part B admitted defeat immediately when the session started with stretching methods.

With the instructor showing, naturally.

Going up, down, to one side then the other, running around the room wasn’t that bad. It actually helped get rid of the incoming boner Ichigo felt growing, and he stopped at the end to breathe out, now completely calm.

Apart from the moment she had come up to him to gently help him get the posture right, expertingly taking his hands to place them where needed, showing him how to do the exercise, her butt for him to see, and it was easy to think it was simply a coincidence.

One that brought his hard on back.

Then Orihime Inoue, the instructor, who had given him her name at the very start of the session so they would stop calling each other “Miss” or “Sir” as if they were still in school, came next to him and asked him to do some squats.

“I don’t see how that helps the dancing…” He doubted, looking at her in the eyes, and she chuckled lightly, raising her hand to pick up his arms and place them in the air, in front of him.

“Dancing is beautiful and powerful when you have good leg muscles. And while you do have muscles, if they themselves are not powerful enough, you won’t last very long.” She explained.

He sighed, argument hitting the spot, and did as many squats as her, next to him. If he was going to do some body work, then it would have been better to simply just go to the gym…

“Come on, don’t day dream! Do 50 and then we’ll see how you dance.”

The world stopped, all the clocks ticking in the empty void, head turning to stare at her incredulously, catching her puffing out her cheeks and laughing out loud, holding on to his shoulder to avoid slipping on the ground.

“I’m kidding, Ichigo-san! Don’t worry!” She kept laughing in her hand, and the young man felt several things : first, shame for letting his fear sweat outside of his body. Second, amusement at her dorky laughter.

The third emotion was out before he could control it, pulling her close to him and taking her hand off her face. Orihime looked shocked by his actions, ears and cheeks reddening from the effort as well as embarrassament.

“What…”

“That’s enough exercising for now. Let's get to the real work.”

He looked into her eyes, who had kept on looking up and down his body for the last half hour, her hands who ran up his arms to land on his collarbones, mouth opening slightly to let out nothing but a tiny “yes”.

He had been on fire for multiple reasons in life : because of anger against his father, his friends, sometimes his sisters. Because of grief, when he had to help other family members carry his mother’s coffin. Because of anxiety and weariness, because of exercise.

But this time, when he walked the two of them to a bench by the side of the room, he was burning in need and hunger.

Orihime was also fever like, the nice and calm mask she had slipped on falling away with her tank top, leaving her in just a sports bra while she kissed Ichigo deeply, tongue easily giving up the dominance in favor of the man’s own flexing muscles.

The sound of the music all but disappeared when their bodies collapsed together, hungry kisses and nails like tiger’s claws on each other’s skins.

With a quick breath, Ichigo pulled away from her mouth to kiss her neck, lapping at it gently, her hand going to his hair while he touched the skin of her hips and stomach. Softness and hard muscles seemed hard to combine, yet there she was, smooth smooth skin covering powerful muscles, ones that he would enjoy teasing.

After the kisses, his head got lower and lower, caging her lower stomach, not touching in the slightest her breasts, that would come later.

“Hmf, what are you... “

“Sh, don’t talk too loud, others might hear.”

He grinned from ear to ear, looking up as he licked his lips, her breath catching in her throat. Orihime’s hand suddenly caught his hair and pulled him up, as gently as possible, and they kissed again, one nibbling on the other’s lips, Orihime’s hands getting under the man’s wet shirt, feeling the tight muscles, the crease between each abs, the v line digging in his shorts.

“No one else is here… So, don’t hesitate to yelp, Ichigo.”

She murmured agaisn’t her lips before going deeper in her search, this time digging in his shorts to find what she seeked with a grin.

Ichigo yelped indeed, not expecting the woman under him to get so bold, yet there she was, feeling him up and stroking him in his damn shorts.

Fuck, would be the right word to use.

He didn’t utter a single vowel, bringing her pants and her underwear down rapidly, going back to kiss her as their lips found each other again, lost in moans and the electric touches of their tongues. Orihime kept on stroking him, gently pumping him up and down, the member in her hand turning even harder as she placed her thumb on the slit. Slick came out of it, and she chuckled at the man’s reaction : eyes closed and shaking behind the eyelids, Ichigo seemed ready to burst at any moment, but he groaned, not accepting an early end.

His finger, that had been on her lower stomach, stroking at her sensitive part, now had entered her, one by one. The long digits didn’t waste any time in looking for her gspot, that tender place inside of her that would make her see stars in seconds, if he was careful enough.

“Ichigo… No, not like, th-that…” She moaned against him, her free hand digging in his hair, pulling her face in his neck to try to resist the impossible pull on her body. “I… need….”

“I know, baby, I know… Let me take care of it…” He whispered back to her, placing one kiss on her forehead. His fingers came out of her, taking her own hand off of him, even if he twitched in insubordination. “You’re all good, Hime, you’re good…”

He reassured her, voice gentle like he knew she liked, hands lowering his pants to angle his cock to her. Ichigo finally freed her breasts from their confined space, letting them overflow on her chest, filling his vision with sights of her blushing face and exposed tits.

“You’re beautiful Hime…”

He smiled at her, rubbing her nose with his with a grin that she gave back, before entering her fully, nice and slow. She yelped this time, voice resonating in the empty room, but never stopping her sweet sound and words towards him as she dug her fingernails in his back, feeling him getting as deep as possible, filling her up to the brim, the end, to the heart.

She pushed her head out of his neck, and with a tiny frown, pouted.

“You didn't play.”

Ichigo winced, the tightness of hers squeezing just right around him, and nodded his head.

“I’m sorry… I tried, but you always look so fucking amazing in sports wear… fuck, I couldn’t just pretend I didn’t know my own fiancée!”

Orihime didn’t answer, couldn’t really, and pulled him back down against her generous mounds before he got started with his thrusts, rocking them carefully against the oh so fragile wooden bench of his future wife’s dance studio.

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I’ll never forgive my playlist for making me turn what was supposed to be absolute filth into sweet love making on a bench.

Tell me what you thought of it, and how I can better myself!

[innittowinit]

Run Rabbit Run (2/3)

Summary:

When Assassin Technoblade receives an offer he can't refuse, to kill the king, he starts to live a double life as a knight inside the castle walls.

Unexpected to him, he meets a pair of troublesome brothers, a skilled gardener and a father figure in the process, Can he go through with it this time?

AO3

Living in the castle was… different, if he were to put it lightly.

On normal days, Techno would wake up towards 11am, check to see if any potential clients had sent him a letter, and then carry out any assassinations that he still needed to do. Needless to say, jobs never normally needed him to infiltrate the royal workers, most of the time it was just a quick shot of a bow or a swift swing of a sword.

Working quickly and efficiently was what he was known for, in the underbelly of crime.

That being said, a lifetime of working as a criminal had never prepared him for the strict regime that came with being a knight. He had been led to a large dorm room filled with the other knights by Wilbur and Tommy on his first day here, that had been the first shock, he wasn’t used to not having any private space. The next shock had been waking up at 5am, he had to pull himself out of bed and put on his new iron armour, trying the whole while to remind himself that this was in fact worth it for the money he’d be receiving by the end of it.

He had been given a surprising amount of freedom, considering he was the new guy, he had half been expecting someone to follow him around and make sure that he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be. Instead, he’d been given the loose order to just make rounds around the castle grounds and make sure everything was running smoothly. A small percentage of the guards had also been sent down to make their rounds in the main kingdom but he supposed it must be a fairly small area if they didn’t even need all their men down there.

Recently the sheer abundance of gold surrounding him was really affecting his concentration and self-control, naturally, his instincts were screaming at him to drop everything and grab something, anything, to keep for himself. Quite a few times, he had been tempted to ignore the mission and just give in to what he wanted but he knew that would be a sure fire way to ruin any trust he’d be able to build between the fellow workers and the king.

His so-called self control was really put to the test when he was called to stand guard when the King made Wilbur and Tommy try out some new golden additions to the uniform.

Of course though, the Knight uniform was Iron as always, all he needed to do was stand with the king as he judged the boys, trying out the new clothes. It was a little ironic that he had made the mistake of hiring the assassin to protect him from assassins.

“Techno, I don’t think I’ve really spoken to you as much as I should have” The King had sighed as the two waited for Wilbur and Tommy to finish getting changed. “You’re a real character, you know? No matter how hard I try I can’t read you”

“Sometimes, not reading people is for the better, Sir”

The heaviness of the statement rolled off Techno’s tongue easily, not realising how incriminating it really was. Luckily though, the King just laughed and nodded, one hand on his shoulder.

Techno didn’t want to think about how tempted he was to pull the gold rings right off his fingers.

“Done!”

Tommy grinned as he half ran, half jogged out of the changing room, spreading his arms wide, dramatically, and giving a big spin.

The changes to the uniform were minuscule, clearly only done to show wealth to any visitors over the fact that even the king’s chefs and butlers were clad in expensive materials.

“What D'ya think Techie?” With almost a rhythm to the words, Tommy walked towards Techno and stretched his arms out, bringing attention to the golden detailing at the bottom of his sleeves, as well as the thick pads that capped off his shoulders. The uniform really did look ridiculous.

“You’re a Piglin! I bet you love this stuff!”

“Tommy..” The king spoke in a warning tone, Techno didn’t quite understand why he was sticking up for him when stuff like this was so common. By now, he was used to being teased for being a Piglin, that’s just how life was for Mobs.

“What Phil?”

Pulling his hands back to his sides, Tommy rolled his eyes. Wilbur had also joined them, the golden detailing working much better against the black Butler uniform rather than the White Chef’s one.

“Phil he literally is a Piglin! I’m not even being mean!”

Techno couldn’t help but groan. Of course he thought he was in trouble for calling him a Piglin, of course people assumed that was a bad word. It was times like this when he was glad these are the kind of people he hurts with his work… but then again the person defending him was the person he was destined to kill.

Techno decided not to think about it.

What he did think about instead was how close he was going to have to get to the king to not be a suspect. Seriously, he had workers that were so casual with him that they would argue with him and call him by his first name, how long would he have to stay here?

“Toms.”

God the King had nicknames for them too? He was in for a lot of work.

“Look, it’s just not nice to assume he likes things and bring up what species he is as a justification.”

Tommy was clearly getting frustrated, judging by how Wilbur had said that they had been taken in as kids, he assumed the boy wasn’t really used to being told off for things.

“No! Just look! He’s fine with it! It was a joke man!”

And with that, Techno’s hoof was being grabbed and pulled up to touch the shoulder pad. What happened next was a blur, he remembered shoving Tommy away but he couldn't remember if he fell or just staggered back a bit. He noted that Wilbur had yelled something at him but he was more focused on getting the safe feeling that came with feeling the gold back. So, before he could think any better he had swiped the King’s crown straight off of his head and was cradling it close to his chest, like an animal protecting its food.  

“Techno?”

The king’s voice had been gentle and non-judgmental as he carefully placed a hand on his shoulder.

All he got as a response was a low grunt, his bared tusks far too prominent for him to even attempt talking right now.

“Techno, I want you to know that first of all you aren't in trouble, okay?”

With a little nod, Techno attempted to hand the crown back over, trying to salvage what he could of their opinions on him but just as he held it out towards the King his instincts took control again, complete fear and terror coursing through his veins as he imagined having to go back to having no gold to give him that safe feeling he was after.

“That’s alright, you can hold onto it for now, let’s just calm you down a bit bud”

Mind too foggy with anger and instincts, he didn’t even register it when Phi- the King moved him to sit on a bench with one arm around him lovingly. If he didn’t know any better he’d say this man was almost fatherly but he knew there must be a dark side to him if he had been offered so much to kill him.

“I’m very sorry about what happened, I don’t think Tommy really understood what he was doing, We’ll make sure that it won't happen ever again.”

Phil’s voice was kind, it understood that Techno wouldn’t want people teasing him about that kind of thing, it cared that Techno had been upset and wanted to fix that. The same kind voice softly instructed Techno on how to breathe in and out to slow down his pacing heartbeat, eventually helping him lower his tusks and loosen his grip on the crown.

“Ah jeez” Techno sighed, feigning a chuckle “This is humiliating, I’m sorry”

Despite the fact that he was calmer now and was able to think clearly and talk again, it was still very clear that he didn’t want to give up the crown as he twirled it in his hands, carefully tracing each gem as he did so.

Looking up, he could finally read the faces of the people that surrounded him, Phil looked like he was worried, Wilbur looked disappointed and Tommy looked as if he was about to crack under the guilt. This much attention made him feel almost sick, if he didn’t know better he would have leaned into Phil’s gentle touch by now, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little touch starved.

“Tommy.” Wilbur cleared his throat as he nudged his brother forwards, the younger of the two looking down at his boots in shame.

“Uh.. I didn’t think you were going to react like that, I’m really sorry. I know it doesn’t really mean much now but if I'm being honest I did think Piglins just..liked gold. I didn’t think you were going to...lose control or anything. I’m sorry, I do want to be friends with you but I’m scared I’ve biffed it” Techno couldn’t tell whether it was because Tommy was a human teenage boy or because he was just that remorseful but he could hear a slight waver in his voice as he spoke, as if he was holding back tears.

That was strange, nobody had cried over wanting his forgiveness before, or more like, nobody who he wasn’t about to kill had cried over wanting his forgiveness. It was nice to know he was cared for, even if it was misplaced.

“It’s.. fine. Just don’t do it again”

With that, Tommy nodded vigorously and walked swiftly back over to Wilbur, whispering something to him, leaving Techno with Phil- fuck, no, leaving Techno with the King and the crown.

“I meant it when I said you could hang on to it, just keep it safe and you can do whatever you like with it. Hold it, wear it, anything.”

Eyes wide, Techno looked over to Phil, looking for any trace of a joke. Normally, he’d be ridiculed for any aspects of his heritage showing, let alone having a full few minutes where he couldn’t control his actions, plus he really wasn’t used to being given gifts, normally he’d have to make due with the small chunks of gold he could make from his work but the idea of an entire crown was new to him, he was conflicted, naturally, he wasn’t sure if he needed to be on guard or if he was truly cared for.

“I’m serious. This was our fault, it really is embarrassing for us that we didn’t predict this and give you something you could hold on to. You poor thing, you were probably in a lot of pain trying to protect your image, right?”

Techno just sighed, rubbing his eyes. Because he was tired, he told himself, he wasn’t wiping away anything and he certainly didn’t care that the only person to ever treat him so nicely was the person he had to kill.

“Next time something is bothering you, don’t be afraid to speak up. We’re a family here and now that you’re a knight here you’re a part of that family”

Family.

Phil thought of them as a family.

Techno sighed and nodded, giving in and finally placing his head on Phil’s shoulder.

He supposed he’d just have to commit familicide.

[moskaisley]

migraine pt.3 | chronic

gif: @logan-solo​

rating: mature

word count: 3k

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, fluff but also ANGST, jealous!mando aka my favorite kind 

a/n: this literally took so long to write bc i basically changed the last half of this fic, but i’m rly happy with the results. there was a lot i wanted to include about life before din left, and i thought i’d put them in separate like one shots, but i figured that it would be include in the main story too. this is basically like an anime recap episode LMAO. enjoy!! thanks for the love <3

summary:

“But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives.”

When you and the Mandalorian existed in another time, another place. 

parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

ao3 link / masterlist

Dreams these days never really consisted of anything new. Old memories played in your head like a holovid, both the good and the bad. Tonight, they were filled with him. 

In the beginning, the two of you never really acknowledged what it was. 

You fucked only a few more times after the cockpit. Business always came first, of course, and sex wasn’t a regular occurrence. But when the tension (often mixed with the adrenaline of bounty hunting) became too much to handle, you were all over each other. Most of the time, you were in either of each other’s bunks, and you only did it in the cockpit when you couldn’t bother to go down the ladder. At first, you chalked it up to strictly satisfying physical needs. With the two of you in such close quarters, it only made sense. The aftermath often involved getting dressed and cleaned up in silence. There would be an occasional joke or two, but the discussion usually steered itself towards the next mission. 

But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives. Your hands would linger on each other longer. He seemed to loosen up around you, joke around and indulge you in conversation. It was such a stark contrast to his menacing, stoic warrior demeanour he used when rounding up bounties.

Once, you found yourself too distracted and flustered to even spar with him.

“At this rate, you’ll never win a match against me,” he poked, legs straddling your waist as he pinned your arms down

“Oh, shut up,” you huffed, irritated. He had won against you using the same move, twice. 

You’d never tell him, but your eyes were definitely indulging over the build of his body, imagining the way his bare muscles flexed or his lips moved against yours. 

Squirming against him, you hiss, “Off, Mando.”

He chuckles and your chest tightens. I bet his real voice sounds like heaven.

“I dunno, I think I like you like this.”

He studies you under him, helmet tilting sideways watching your chest heave up and down. A wave of heat washes over you at the thought of tearing off his mask and pulling him down for a kiss. Mando lightly laughs again and you swear you’re going to fucking lose it.

“I think you like it too.”

With all your strength, you bring your knee into the small of his back, knocking him forwards as you twist to launch him off of you. After shuffling up to stand, you spin on your heels and march away, embarrassed at how he’s got you flushed and smiling like an idiot schoolgirl. 

He’s still groaning in pain when he calls to you, “Done already?”

You stumble on a witty response, “You’re the worst!”

Smooth.

--

You weren't the only one losing their cool. Mando became a lot more defensive of you in those days; you nearly killed him once because he kept trying to cover you from blaster fire. He even started a bar fight for you. 

You hated the stares you received by virtue of being around him; traveling with him always meant that being unassuming was impossible. Normally, people would avert their eyes. If you were particularly lucky, a poor soul would try and push the Mandalorian’s buttons, not realizing they’re digging their own graves. One day, however, you’d hit the jackpot when they decided to  target you. 

You sat across from him in a booth, patiently waiting for the quarry to pass through; you took the side facing the door while he was turned away, taking advantage of the element of surprise. Out of the corner of your eye, three drunk bumbling idiots stumbled from the opposite end of the bar. Despite your stealthy gaze, one of them locked eyes with you, and when you saw his lips curl into a disgusting smile, you knew you were in for it. 

The man you saw and sauntered over to your side of the chair. His friends shuffled behind him like dogs, and he practically beamed when he saw Mando, seemingly nonchalant.

“My my, Mando! You’ve got quite the catch here,” he says, undressing you with his eyes, “Where’d he buy a thing like you, baby?”

Are you fucking serious?

You cocked an eyebrow and shot him a glare in response, but remained quiet. You turn back to your view on the door, praying to Maker that he’d leave you alone. But the man didn’t let up.

Instead, he turns to your partner inquiring,

“How good of a lay is she, huh, Mandalorian? Bet she’d be a real treat for me and my boys” his men move a little closer to corner you both, “How much to take her off your hands?”

Can a girl just exist?

“I’m not for sale,” you snarl, voice tight. A dull pain begins to echo in your temples.

“So she speaks,” Your irritation only seemed to egg him on, “C'mon darlin’ let us take care of you. I promise I’m good for it.”

Your fingers were itching towards your blades, but you were still waiting on the quarry to enter the cantina. A scene would scare him away and you would lose your money and time.

Business comes first. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Mando’s voice cut through your exchange, “Get lost, she said she’s not interested.”

“Now, that’s not what we heard, was it boys?” His men laugh in agreement behind him. His eyes turn dark as he goes to place a hand on your shoulder, “The lady can speak for herself. I think we can negotia-”

A blaster shot whizzes by your ears before you can even think to fight back against him. Mando, ever the gunslinger, shoots again towards his leg, knocking him onto the floor.

And then the whole bar descends into chaos. 

Drunkards pile on top of each other as tensions crescendo; the sound of a single shot has everybody up in arms. Your migraine only grows in intensity as the situation spirals out of control. To top it off, amidst the chaos, you see the quarry a few paces away. His eyes were wide watching the shitshow before him, and in a panic, he scurried back out the door.

You’d caught him eventually, but not without traversing the entire underground marketplace that stretched under the city. By the time he was in carbonite and you were both in the cockpit, your irritation boiled over.

“Are you insane, Din?” You fumed, “When did you get so careless? We nearly lost him!”

He simply looked at you as if you knew the answer, but his silence only fueled your exasperation.

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” you grumbled, throwing your hands in the air, “I’ll be in the refresher.”

You turned to leave, but his gloved hand suddenly gripped your upper arm, spinning you into his chest. It was then that you realized how much bigger he was, dwarfing you in his arms as he rubbed the space above your elbows. 

“He was gonna touch you,” Mando’s voice was low, bordering on a growl.

Oh. The air in the room shifts dramatically.

You take a shaky breath, your voice quieting down to a whisper, “And if he did?”

The gloved hands on your arms squeeze like a vice grip. Your heart swells.

“He’d have a hole in his head.”

Your expression softens before your lips spread into a sly smile. You move as close as you can, eyes boring into the black space of his visor.

“Tell me something,” you swallow hard as you gingerly move his hands to your waist and trace your fingertips over his breastplate. Mando’s breathing is ragged through his vocoder, and you relish in his excitement. You bat your eyelashes a few times before peering up at him.

“How good of a lay am I, Mandalorian?”

His fingers dig deeper into your sides before pulling you even closer, erection already stiffening against you. He groans out a response, “Let’s find out.”

--

There were little things that warmed your heart, too. When you were stuck in your bunk with a migraine, he never let you get up to do anything by yourself. He brought you water and food and he took extra care in opening the door so no light was let in and he wasn’t too loud. When you could tell he was dozing off in hyperspace, you forced him to go to bed. If he was particularly stubborn, you shoved him into the co-pilot’s chair and covered him with a blanket. Sometimes, if you came across a market with a few extra credits, you’d cook him a real meal, leagues better than the shitty ration packs you normally partook in. 

And then, there was the first time he kissed you.

You were strolling through a bazaar before a job when you stopped at a produce stand, excitedly picking up a fuzzy white peach from the box.

“I haven’t eaten one of these since I was a teenager,” you say, bringing up it to your nose and sniffing, “They smell amazing. We should get some later.”

Much to your chagrin, the job went south that day. You were so frustrated and angry that you’d completely forgotten about it, caked in mud and grime demanding to go straight back to the Razor Crest.

Holed up in your bunk and fresh out the shower, you were clad in only a long sleeve shirt and underwear when you heard him knock. When you opened the door, you were surprised to see  the fiercest hunter in the parsec standing before you with a plate of peaches from the market, sliced neatly into little wedges.  

Mando sat with you on your bed as he watched you eat; you told him about how the fruit used to grow on trees in your family’s orchard in the summer. Though you acted like you were sick of them, you always ate it when you were upset. You smiled at the memory of your adolescence, silently cutting up the fruit into wedges and eating them outside during dawn, right after your first break up with some boy.

You were so caught up in the memory that you nearly jumped when Mando leaned in and took your chin in his right hand. His finger traced over the side of your lips, and your heart raced in your chest. 

“Sorry, it’s just,” he uttered, “It was going to drip on your chin.”

You would’ve thought he’d lit your body on fire. Your core ached and you suddenly couldn’t breathe. When he began to pull back, it felt like instinct to grab his wrist and keep his hand near your face. You leaned into his touch, pressing a chaste kiss to his thumb. 

You began to crawl across your bunk to him when he stopped you, “Wait.”

Mando stood, and closed the door and shut the lights off. Darkness enveloped you both, and you called out to him, “Din?” His voice cut through the inky dark, “Can you see anything?”

You hear him shuffle, as he stands in front of you, “I dunno, can I?”

“Y/N,” he urged, impatient.

“No, Din. I can’t see.”

And then you hear the air hiss, and metal clanging to the floor. Realization hit like a meteor crash.

He took it off.

You panic immediately.

“Din, wait! What are you doi-”

You shut up the instant his hands cup your face and his lips are on yours.

And it felt delightful, better than any kiss you’d ever had. Your eyes flutter shut as you deepen the kiss. Your arms go to wrap around his neck, and you pull him even closer, elated at the way his soft hair feels in between your fingers. You were sure that he could taste the sweet, tangy peach on your tongue. When he pulls away for air, your face feels flushed with heat and you could feel your swollen lips.

You’re in a daze, “You kissed me.”

He laughs and you hear it. His real voice. No distortion. No modulator. 

“I did.”

He does sound like an angel.

“Do it again.”

--

When it all broke apart, it wasn’t like the steady, dawdling way you fell in love. The break was quick and it stung worse than any migraine. 

“What do you think?”

You walked around the cockpit, tracing your fingers over the controls. “Why? You thinking of an upgrade?” You shoot Mando a smile. He doesn’t seem amused, “It’s nice, I guess. Smaller, though. We already have a tough time fitting together in the Razor Crest.”

You’d been on Nevarro for a few days, having finally finished your last job. Instead of going back to the Crest, however, Mando took you to a shipyard and aboard an empty cruiser. The Slipstream’s windows were big and were much cleaner, but space was still an issue even if you and Din didn’t carry much.

You turn to him expecting a response, but he only says, “Let’s go.”

“Wait, Mando,” you reach for his shoulder, “What is this about? I don’t understand. Why are we here?”

He doesn’t stop to answer, “I said, let’s go.”

You let out a huff as you followed him out of the cockpit. Ever since you landed, Mando’s behavior had flipped like a switch. Your friendly talks had been reduced to one-sided exchanges. He’d been ignoring you, cold like the beskar he donned on his back. 

“Mando!”

He kept walking down the loading ramp. His terrible attitude had made your blood simmer for a while, and now it was all boiling over. 

You stomp forwards, stopping at the entrance to the hull and shout. 

“Din, stop!”

And he does, but he doesn’t turn around.

You’re fuming, “What is your problem? You’ve been in a shitty mood ever since we got here and frankly I-” You’re interrupted by something flying towards you, instinct having you catch in your hands. It’s a small silver device. Code sets, for what could only be the ship you’re currently standing on.

The dots begin to chaotically connect in your head, “What the hell is this?”

“It’s the -”

“No, Din. I know what this fucking thing is,” You’re seething with panic and rage as you hold up the silver box, “I mean, what are you doing?”

He only stares up at you, the mask emotionless and frigid. The reality of the situation was crashing into you like waves; you were begging to any god that this was just a fucked up nightmare. Tears were stinging in your eyes, threatening to pool and pour over. 

You hated how your voice cracked, “Answer me!”

“I’m leaving you, Y/N.”

Fuck. Hearing him say it out loud made your gut wrench. 

You made an audible sob; you couldn’t control it. Shuffling to the bottom of the ramp, you’re desperate to try and connect to him, bring him back to you. The questions spill from your lips.

“Why? What did I even do? What’s wrong?” You bring your hands up, cupping the sides of his helmet. You whisper through your cries, “Din, please.”

You know. You feel it in your bones. You know he feels it too. 

He gently holds your wrists, “We can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t we talk about this?” You plead, “I know something’s wrong, you gotta let me in.”

“Y/N, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he chides, pulling your hands away from his helmet. Your heart feels like it’s in freefall when he turns around to continue walking.

You try to scramble forward to pull him back but to your horror, you’re met with the barrel of a blaster. The noise that roars through your ears sounds like shattering glass. You gape at him, a mixture of shock and disbelief contorting your features. The figure that stood before you was unrecognizable. Because it wasn’t Din, the soft lover who kissed you in the dark and traced words of Mando’a into your sternum. It wasn’t even Mando, the old snarky friend who joked at how bad of a shot you were and who laughs like a complete idiot when he had one too many sips.

It was the Mandalorian, the ruthless and deadly warrior poised and ready to fire you away.

--

You wake up smelling peaches and blaster smoke.

Shifting to sit up against the wall behind you, you groan at the dull ache in your head and heart. Mando is here with you at the foot of the bed; you’ve memorized the way the bunk feels with or without him. 

“Why are the lights off?” You ask.

“I didn’t know if you were going to wake up with a headache or not.”

Of fucking course. It drives you insane how considerate he is sometimes.

You suddenly become more alert as you remember, “Aayn’vida, where is she? Is she safe?”

He quells your anxiety immediately, “She’s safe. I took her to her family.”

“And Khan?”

“Cold.”

You feel him shove pills and a bottle of water into your hands. You took them, and as you both waited for the pain in your head to subside, he told you what happened in Jaemai. As it turns out, Aayn’vida’s mother was a doctor for many years, and she was kind enough to check on you and care for your wounds. Khan’s goon nicked your right side; no major organs were hit, but your skin was likely scarred since it was basically singed off. There was another thing, however. Mando had asked her about the constant migraines,  “She said that they can happen because of stress or trauma.”

You laughed bitterly, “Well, we both know I have plenty of that.”

Silence blankets you two again. Even in the dark, you can tell when the Mandalorian is uneasy. You wait for him to confess.

“If I’d known this would’ve happened, I would’ve never asked you to come with me,” he lets out a tired sigh, “I’m sorry.”

You roll your eyes. Why is he so fucking nice?

“We’ve been through worse,” you say, a familiar feeling fluttering through your chest, 

“Besides, this just means I’ve rightfully earned my 80%”

[thecorteztwins]

This is short and maybe not phrased great because I just woke up but--- If you want a cynical world-weary misanthropic character, you actually DON’T need to explain it by giving them the most tragic past ever. People can become disillusioned from very mundane things, and there are forms of trauma that DON’T come from someone hurting you. Ask anyone in retail or fast food, you meet the worst people. The job is terrible, the customers are terrible, you’re on your feet the whole time, you never get the scent of grease out of your hair/clothes, and you’ve probably had to clean up messes in the bathroom I don’t want to describe. From Karens to crackheads, you have the worst clientele, and not only are you not paid half enough for it, society at large does not think you deserve to be and in fact looks down at you pretty heavily, especially if this is your job as an adult. I am shocked whenever someone in these industries does NOT hate people. Another one is working at an animal shelter. You’re going to see horrible abuse and abandonment of completely helpless, innocent creatures on the daily. And on the daily, you are going to have to kill those animals, just because there’s not enough room at the facility, because no one came to adopt them in the allotted time, because some asshole dropped them here in the first place for some bullshit reason like not being a puppy anymore or not wanting to walk them. I used to volunteer at an animal shelter for two years and someone gave their pit bull to us because it was TOO NICE and they had wanted a MEAN dog. They gave their dog to a shelter for NOT being vicious, and a kill shelter FILLED with pit bulls that are extremely hard to adopt because of their reputation. This person essentially executed their dog for being good. And as a volunteer, I never had to be the one to do the killing---that’s why I never became an actual employee, I knew I couldn’t---but fucking imagine what that would do to you, having to gas the same animals you were caring for every day and rooting to get adopted. I can’t think of anything WORSE. A final example is social workers. This is what I meant when I said you can suffer trauma without having it happen to you. Social workers see everything animal shelter workers do, but it’s happening to people instead, often children or other defenseless members of society (the elderly, the disabled, etc) And people are going to do even worse things to other people---I’ve never heard of someone pimping out their dog, but there are countless cases of people doing that to their own children. Social workers are seeing the worst of humanity every day, over and over. They’re generally flooded with cases, each more horrific than the last, and as with the animal shelter, many of these cases do not have happy outcomes. The BEST case scenario is getting the abused or neglected person out of the situation before WORSE things that can happen, but that still entails something having happened at all, and oftentimes they basically have to wait for things to escalate in order to have enough proof to do this. Can you imagine the hate, frustration, and fatigue? What that would do to your mental health and worldview? Not to mention how they’re often treated by parents or caretakers they’re investigating, or even the victims themselves. It’s ROUGH. It’s HARD. It’s THANKLESS. It’s got to be one of the most soul-shattering things I can think of. And it doesn’t involve going into a war zone, or being kidnapped and tortured, or anything like that. I’m not saying dramatically tragic pasts are inherently bad, and they do work for some characters. Sometimes they’re needed for the story you want to tell or person you want to write. I am saying that they are not, in fact, necessary for writing someone who is very embittered and seen some of the worst of what the world has to offer. There are some very mundane ways that can happen, and they are, to me, actually MORE horrific than the usual backstory cliches because they’re so much more real-world.  You can check out any “AskReddit” thread on these jobs and see people post their personal horror stories, and that makes it hit home harder (to me) than any kind of purely fictional evil organization that kidnaps people and makes them be brainwashed assassins or what have you. I can watch movies with that. But I can’t read those AskReddit threads. I couldn’t write this. It’s too real. Though I can also understand wanting to avoid it because of that. And as a note---your character also doesn’t need to be experienced and world-weary to be misanthropic, snide, etc. Some of the most naive and inexperienced people are like that, in fact. It’s very typical of sheltered teenagers, to the point of cliche. Because thinking that everyone is bad and the world is terrible is in fact as naive a viewpoint as believing everything is sunshine and rainbows, with the added bonus of getting to feel all smart and superior for “seeing the ugly truth instead of the pretty lies” and “not being a sheep” and other self-aggrandizing shit these types say, when in fact they just haven’t often see that much good OR bad of the world, because they haven’t seen much of the world period, but have just DECIDED it’s bad for whatever reason. I’d honestly like to see more “naive character goes out into the world and realizes it’s so much different than they thought” stories that focus on pessimistic malcontents realizing how wonderful it can be, how kind other people can be, than more stories about optimistic people being brought down by seeing awful things for the first time. Being mature DOESN’T mean hating everything or seeing the world as this terrible place, anymore than it means trusting that every man in a white van offering candy and puppies is really benign. So if your character is a bitter asshole who only sees the worst? Maybe it’s not because they’ve seen it all, but the REVERSE. Just some things to consider.

[purplesurveys]

1220

The person you had the strongest feelings for dies, do you care?  I imagine so, yeah. I’d check up on her family and help in any way I can, if it’s still welcomed.

Is there something you’re happy about at the moment?  I share this all the time in surveys at this point but I’m just really giddy that it’s a Friday evening hehe. Also, I’m seeing Angela, Hans, and (finally!!!) Reena later! We’ll be going to UP to shoot some photos since Angela and Reena are graduating this year and we wanna take pictures with the sunflowers in the campus before they die out. I also never got to take sunflower photos when I graduated last year, so it will be my chance to do so as well.

Do you want someone dead?  Wow, no.

Do you ever wonder what your ex is up to?  It almost never crosses my mind, honestly.

Have you ever fed or taken care of a stray animal?  I’ve fed many of them before, yup.

What is something you tend to worry about?  Pending deliverables at work, especially ones that are out of my control.

What is something you do that is unhealthy?  Be in front of a screen as soon as I’m awake until the second I turn in.

What is something you do that is good for you?  I’m no longer afraid to prioritize myself when necessary.

What last caused you to force a smile?  Ooh I’m not sure. I haven’t had to do that in a while, which is a good thing. What was the last video game you played? Was it fun?  Probably Mario Kart on the Switch, but it’s been a WHIIIIIIIIIIIIIILE. Yeah it’s one of my favorite series for a reason.

What is something not many people know about you?  The fact that I’m obsessed with anything classic Hollywood and I’m a big Audrey Hepburn fan. The topic never gets brought up so I don’t really get the chance to say anything about that interest of mine.

What word describes your basic style?  Casual, laidback. I’m more than happy with just a simple t-shirt and denim jeans these days and I think I’m over my jumpsuit/romper phase haha.

Have you ever been told you were going to Hell?  It was referred to/threatened to me, but not directly with these words.

Have you ever wanted to kill yourself?  It was a regular occurrence before.

If yes, what convinced you not to go through with it?  I think overall I was just scared of fucking it up and fucking up my brain for life as a consequence. Also I knew no one was going to take care of Kimi as well as I do, and I would never leave him behind.

Have you ever rejected a guy, only to have him push the issue by asking “why?” and insisting that you just need to get to know him better?  Nope.

Is there something that you believe everyone should do and you can’t believe that some people don’t do it (e.g., recycle or go to the dentist regularly)?  It’s definitely an Asian thing but it will sometimes hurt my chest when I see people wear shoes in their homes.

Regarding the last good choice (healthy choice, kind choice, selfless choice, etc.) you made, what was your real motivation behind it?  I wanted to be kind to myself and finally let go of what had been keeping me from starting to be happy and pleased with where I am and have.

What is something that you have had to practice at to get the hang of it? If you can’t think of anything, that’s okay, what’s something you are currently practicing at and trying to master?  This is such a shallow answer lol but I’ve recently gotten into this rhythm game called Rhythm Hive that I found impossible to master at first, but after weeks of practicing I now breeze through all the songs at their hardest level.

Have you ever gone to the store to buy something, like a video game, when it came out at midnight?  I haven’t done that, but I’ve watched a movie premiere at midnight - for both times the Breaking Dawn movies came out.

Regarding the last novel you read, was there a romance included? If so, was it central to the plot?  Yes and yes.

Have you ever done relaxation meditations or listened to relaxation guides or positive-thinking/healing recordings?  Nope, they don’t really work on me. I have my own outlets that help me relax.

Do you have any interests that are also often shared by children?  Coloring is one. Also animated movies; I never grew out of those.

Is there something that could be a solitary activity but you really only like to do it with other people (e.g., watching movies, playing video games, etc.)? Definitely eating out. I’ve done it a couple of times before by myself and it does feel nice, but I also always can’t help but think it would be a lot more fun and that I would be much happier if I was sharing the experience with someone else.

Are you satisfied with the interior design or decoration in your home? Or do you think it needs a total home makeover?  Ugh god I need to rearrange and upgrade my room STAT. My K-Pop merch are starting to pile up but they’re all currently in just lazy heaps scattered around in my room since I don’t have any shelves or anything to properly display them on.

Is there something that you’d like to own but you can’t find it anywhere? If not, can you a remember a time when you wanted something? Did you ever end up finding it or did you eventually stop wanting it? This is always me with BTS merch...

Who makes you smile the most?  My friends.

What piercings do you want/have?  Just one on each earlobe. I’m not looking to have any more.

What's your favorite website?  Twitter.

Do you own a fish tank with fish?  We never had one, no.

Do you like the movie 300?  I’ve never seen it and will probably never have plans to. It’s not my cup of tea.

Do you pop your knuckles?  When I feel stressed or when my knuckles feel strained, yes.

Do you have Photoshop?  Nope, I have no use for it.

Do you use tinypic or photobucket?  Way back in the day. I’m not even sure if those websites still exist.

What’s your favourite song from the 1980s?  Heaven Is A Place On Earth.

How about the 1990s?  I’m not sure I have one.

Have you won anything recently?  Yeah we played this online game over Google Meets with my co-workers just this afternoon, before clocking out. My team won twice.

How often do you make Excel tables? What for?  Oh everyday. I work on a handful of sheets every single day at work, but I also like making spreadsheets for personal use haha. Right now the one I’m currently super invested in is my tracker for all the merch I’ve been buying so I can keep note of my pending payments and which ones I should already be asking for updates on.

What was the last baby animal you saw in the wild?  Not sure, I’m barely outdoors.

Are you always available or online?  Yup.

Do you have dietary restrictions? Or do you just eat what you like?  No allergies or restrictions.

Do you prefer gold, silver or steel jewelry? Or no jewelry at all? Silver.

Have you been binge-watching any shows lately? If so, what?  Not really. I’ve stopped watching Hwarang for now, but I do have plans to come back to it someday. I guess I just haven’t been in a K-drama binge-watching mood lately.

If you dye your hair, do you do it yourself or go to a salon?  I’ve never had my hair dyed.

If you have any, do you like your in-laws? I don’t have any. < Same.

Would it bother you, if your partner had cut contact with their parents?  It depends on the story behind it, but mostly no. How close they are with their family isn’t a priority matter for me.

Have you ever wondered whether you were adopted? All the time, especially as a teenager who wasn’t getting any emotional support at home.

What’s the best physical feeling in the entire universe?  When you work on something and expect mediocre results and feedback, but it ends up getting praised instead and you feel all the hard work pay off.

Have you ever grown a berry bush?  Nope.

Have you done something new to your hair recently?  It’s been untouched since the very start of the pandemic. My sister actually suggested that since I had it cut right when the pandemic started, I should wait out till the end of it and see how long it’ll reach. It sounded intriguing enough so now I’m indefinitely growing it out hahaha.

Do you have bad anxiety? If so, do you take any kind of medication for it? I’m sure I have it, I’ve just never been diagnosed before.

One thing you’ve experienced that you thought you never would have?  Managing to get over a rough breakup quicker than I ever expected to.

What was the last thing someone said to you that kept repeating over & over in your head?  It was when I was leaving Angela’s house yesterday and an “I love you” to her parents rolled out of my tongue so naturally I almost didn’t notice it; and when they said it back in a heartbeat. It’s when I realized that her parents are really like my second parents and that her house is a second home at this point. My heart was filled the entire drive home.

How often do you have late nights out?  Never because we still have a curfew.

If you could, would you work from home? Do you think that would make you more or less productive?  I don’t have a choice; it’s the set-up we’re required to live in. I’m pretty productive here at home but then again I don’t have a point of comparison considering I got my first job already in the midst of the pandemic.

If you had the ability to change the weather, what would you change it to right now?  I would like to bring snow to the Philippines.

Is there something that you really need to do, but can’t seem to get motivated to do it?  Upgrade my room and invest in shelves and other home decor/interior design stuff that would make the space more comfy and homey. Right now it just looks like a warehouse with my merch piled up in scattered places.

Most disturbing movie you have ever seen?  Eraserhead or I’m Thinking of Ending Things.

Has a life goal or dream ever come true for you yet? If yes, what is it? If no, do you think you’ll achieve it?  I have multiple life goals - some of them I’ve achieved, like getting into my dream university and simply getting employed, and some of them I’m still working my way towards, like getting a promotion. Yeah I feel like I’ll achieve my goals someday. I don’t like losing LOL so when I want something I usually put it above everything else.

Have you ever had food poisoning?  Yup.

What are you listening to?  Blue & Grey by BTS.

Do you think there will be a WWIII? I find it inevitable at some point down humanity's future. People are too hateful for it not to eventually. < Yeah, let’s go with this too.

Has anyone ever asked you if you were emo?  No.

Has someone ever liked you that you never thought would?  Yes. Tbh I never expect anyone to like me so I’ve always been surprised when I hear about someone who does.

In all honesty, can a person be too nice?  Yes, especially if they’re starting to be taken advantage of.

Has one of your friend’s boyfriends ever tried to cheat on them with you?  No.

Is mental abuse really as bad as physical abuse?  Any abuse is bad. :/

Do you shop at Sephora for make-up?  Nope.

Zelda: Twilight Princess or Ocarina of Time?  Twilight Princess only because I grew up with it and never got to play Ocarina of Time.

Do you own a rosary?  I did - I went to Catholic school. But I lost mine all the time because I didn’t really care for them lol I always had to buy new ones at the school bookstore.

If you were homeless, how would you cope? I don’t know.