#and did they really have to add that hand holding scene in like damn defeated that mf with the power of gayness for real
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chuuyafucks · 2 years ago
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"So the suicidal maniac wants to live" forever will stun me because dazai knew chuuya for like 12 hours and then held his hand once and immediately decided he wanted to LIVE after trying to khs daily....
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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago
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The Shield
Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 5595
Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.
A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!
This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!
I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.
As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!
FATWS Masterlist
cjsinkythoughts Masterlist
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(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)
!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!
“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”
You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”
He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”
“Wait, but…huh?”
Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”
You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”
“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”
He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”
You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.
“I will, Buck. Promise.”
He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”
A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”
You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”
“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”
“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”
“Looking for me?”
Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”
Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”
You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.
The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.
It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.
“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”
Hell. No. 
The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say. 
“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.
You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.
You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.
“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”
Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”
“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”
You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”
Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.
Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.
You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.
What a dream.
“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”
He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”
You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”
“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.
You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.
Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.
Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.
It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.
But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.
~
You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.
You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.
Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”
He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”
“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”
He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”
You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”
He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”
~
And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.
God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?
“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.
You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.
“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”
He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”
Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”
“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.
“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.
Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.
Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”
“John!”
“Walker!”
You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.
“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”
“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.
“Y/N-”
You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”
You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again. 
“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”
“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.
Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’
“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.
You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.
What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.
********************
“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.
“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”
“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.
You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”
He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”
You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”
“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”
He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”
He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.
“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.
He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”
Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”
“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”
You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”
“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”
Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”
“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”
Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?
Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.
You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.
You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.
Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.
Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.
You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.
Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.
Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?
You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.
“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.
Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”
You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.
“Bucky.” 
You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”
“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”
Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.
It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.
“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”
She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.
When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.
“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.
“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.
You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”
Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”
“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”
Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”
Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.
“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”
You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.
“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
*********************
“I thought you told them.”
Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”
“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”
He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”
You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”
“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”
Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”
“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”
Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”
He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”
“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”
He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”
You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.
“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”
“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”
“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”
You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”
His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”
“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”
Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”
“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”
“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.
“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”
Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”
Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.
He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”
You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.
******************
There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.
None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.
Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.
“She said come alone.”
“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.
Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”
Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.
Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.
It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”
As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”
You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”
He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.
“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.
“What’d you do?”
“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.
Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.
You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.
Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.
You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”
You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”
You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around. 
Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?
Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.
You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred. 
Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.
You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder. 
Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.
The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.
You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.
“James…”
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sxdmoonchxld · 4 years ago
Text
Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK
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Jungkook x Virgin!Reader
Genre: Smut
Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else
Word Count: 6.1k
Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.
Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.
A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!
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Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.
It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 
It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 
Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 
"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 
"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 
"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.
"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 
"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 
"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.
You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.
"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.
"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.
"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired
Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."
You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"
"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 
You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.
"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.
"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"
"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.
"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.
"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.
"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."
"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.
"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.
"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.
"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.
You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"
"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."
You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.
"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  
"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.
"Jimin no. I-i can't."
"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.
"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm
"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.
"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.
"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?
Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 
You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 
"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 
"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.
"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.
"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.
"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.
"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.
"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.
"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.
"Jungkook."
Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.
"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.
"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.
"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.
"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.
"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 
"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."
With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.
"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.
Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 
It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.
"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.
"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.
"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.
Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 
Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 
"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 
"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.
"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 
Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.
"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."
Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.
"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.
"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.
"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 
He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.
You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.
You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.
Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 
"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 
"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?
He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.
"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?
And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 
Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 
He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 
Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.
Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 
You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 
The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 
Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.
"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 
"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 
"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 
"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.
"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.
"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.
"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.
"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.
"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.
He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"
You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.
"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.
"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 
"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.
 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.
"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.
"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 
"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.
"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.
Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 
"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 
"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.
Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 
Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.
"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?
"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 
"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."
You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 
"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"
"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 
Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.
Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.
"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 
Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.
"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"
You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.
"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.
"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."
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i'm so excited about you taking asks again ahhhh okay so. if you'd absolutely had to choose. what would be your top 5 cockles moments, and why? thank you ily <3
here’s the thing: there are so many routes i could go down with this, because cockles moments come in all shapes and sizes and formats. these include moments from their panels, their bloopers, the footage we get when they don’t even know they’re being recorded, stories being passed down from photo ops & autographs(one of my personal favorite ways to get cockles, tbh, because they’re all insane), and social media(tweets to each other, instagram posts & comments, etc.). 
SO! since many a list like this has already been made, and i want to stand out from the crowd, what i’m gonna do is definitively give the number one spot to each of these five categories.(i might even throw in honourable mentions because they’re so despicably in love that they warrant that. i really put my whole pussy into this, guys, i hope you’re happy.) 
disclaimer: these are my own personal opinions. but that also means i’m right. so. enjoy. 
number one: top cockles panel moment
so we’re starting off with a bang, because how do you even BEGIN to rank what atrocities jensen and misha commit at jibcon. every single one they’ve had is damning in it’s own right, for different reasons.
however, considering just how much unabashed fuckery they’ve given us to sift through, it’s a good thing i do have a personal favorite despite it all. it’s heartwarming, the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, AND it’s jarringly cinematic - mainly because it has a whole ass arc to it that was years in the making. it might even be surprising to some people, but my favorite cockles panel moment, and what i consider the one that encompasses their entire gut-wrenching journey from 2008-2013 in the most sweepingly romantic gesture possible, is this one.
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i want this burned into my retinas. i am not even joking. when i'm through with my explanation, let me convince you why this is thee most romantic cockles moment of all time.
first, some history: people call this the resume off, but many seem to forget the botched attempt at a resume off a year prior. and yes, you guessed it: it's during their break up. it's a juicy time period for a reason, guys. it came across as exceedingly one-sided and VERY awkward. let me refresh your memory as to just how bad it was, and just how hard jensen was trying and ultimately failing at winning misha over: the funniest part of the whole resume off in 2013??? every joke/bit had literally already been made/done. they were just going through the motions again, but the difference THIS time...is that misha reciprocated jensen's energy. it. is. fascinating. i want to get into it more detail in another post, and i'll link it here when i'm done, but the main takeaway, i think, and the main difference that showcases how much they've grown in a year, is that in jib 3, misha flat out refused to do an accent, and this time around, he indulges jensen for literal minutes. when i tell you they're crazy, they're crazy. i can't wait to actually dive into it later.
ANYWAY, the resume off culminates in this moment here. and, like, a million things happen in this gifset. actually, more like a million and one. the music starts playingneediremindyouthatthesongissingingintherain(h e l p), misha starts dancing, jensen 'perpetually fake grumpy' ackles lets misha think he's not going to join, misha sits down defeated, but no!!! that was jensen's plan all along(look at his stupid fucking smirk) and he offers his arm to his dance partner who immediately grins like a fool, jensen then leads misha into their kick step, they perfectly synchronise and let loose, and are then very clearly having the time of their lives, hanging off of each other with joy and ease. from their expressions alone i can tell that this moment is so. so. so. so! much more than what initially meets the eye. i mean-misha is fighting back the biggest smile i've ever seen. to me, it reads like jensen is offering something to misha, something that misha kind of gave up on expecting, and him offering his arm like that is like, a surprise to him in the best possible way(and it's so not platonic, let me just say that.) as soon as jensen did that, it ushered in a new era of cockles. this panel is jensen and misha's favourite for a reason, and i think this moment is the biggest clue as to why.
whew!!! ok. that took a lot out of me and that was only point one. moving on,
number two: top cockles blooper moment
cockles bloopers hold an extremely special place in my heart, because it shows just how fucking disastrous jensen and misha are. they are so goddamn infatuated with each other that they HOLD UP PRODUCTION ALL THE TIME TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER(???). let me repeat. let it sink in. jensen ackles; arguably one of the most professional actors on that show who puts everything he has into each scene, with mountains and mountains of notes to prove it: would rather hold up production to flirt with misha collins. this sounds fake. it's not. he does it. all. the. time. and here's the thing guys!!! i'm gonna let you in on a secret!!! misha loves it. he loveesssss it. on top of that-misha collins: overlooked because he's pranked and people assume he's unprofessional as well, but his only pranks are in retaliation/off-set, and he rarely if EVER causes problems if he can help it....lets himself get carried away when it comes to jensen making kissy faces at him!!! are you actually kidding me!!! i mean. misha. it's just a face. you've seen it a million times. i don't buy that it triggers something in you that strongly....you like it, and you like jensen's reaction. you can't fool me!!! lisa berry's face in that one gifset shows just how fed up the crew is with their gross, coupley boyfriend antics.
i could pull up so many examples. sooooooo many. but my favourite was sealed since the moment i saw it.
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i actually already wrote an analysis on it but i can't find it :(((( which SUCKS because i really unpacked the whole thing. i'll try to summarise.
basically, a backstory is part of this too!!! jensen and misha both had a really really hard time with this scene(because it's explicitly romantic there i said it), they sat down for hours and poured over their scripts together, they were super super nervous going into filming, both of them, jensen especially, were super hard on themselves for their performances not being true to their characters but they both complimented the other's work(boyfriend moments fr). so, yeah. they weren't confident going into shooting. and how do they get themselves to feel better???? by cuddling each other, apparently.
a lot. a LOT. happens in this specific blooper. to the point that i saw it years before i knew about cockles and it raised all sorts of flags for me.
1) stop pulling my face towards your crotch(as a thinly veiled request that misha would, in fact, move jensen's face towards his crotch, considering it was jensen moving himself there in the first place. also, why so comfy down there guys???) 2) you're my baby daddy i know(in the most intimate voice i've ever heard please) 3) i know, i know, i love you too i didn't say i love you i know but you wanted to say it etc. misha's right, of course. that's what jensen meant.
it just reeks of comfort, familiarity and intimacy between the two, and it's a moment that is extremely sweet and silly at the same time. they're so <3
number three: top cockles found footage moment
WONDERFUL category. truly the culmination of the cockles experience. many people have said that shipping cockles doesn't work because 'they're just onstage you dummies!! they're playing it up for the audience!!!' here's the thing, love. i could not disagree with you more. once you climb your way up the cockles ladder, you soon learn that they are, in fact, playing their dynamic DOWN, not up. they really are just Like That™, and they could not care less about the paying audience, if we're being honest, considering how much time they take to giggle with each other and refuse to let the audience in on the joke. and i love them for it <3
anyway, my point is that this category is for all you naysayers out there, all you 'jensen and misha's relationship is just for show and is real life queerbaiting'(?????lordhelp???) oh yeah? ok, explain this.
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he. he. he calls jensen sweetheart. literally enough said. there's nothing to really add here, except, misha and jared then immediately engage in damage control. jared's method is distraction and misha's is retconning('get out of the car, dude') this was what got me to buy into the cockles dumpster for GOOD good. you don't call your buddy sweetheart accidentally and sound so completely earnest while doing it! especially not when that buddy is jensen ackles!!! you think he would let any of his friends call him that? do you?
one more thing; if it was a slip of the tongue, little mouth thing or whatever, you think jared wouldn't have jumped on it immediately??? i can hear it now. 'did you just call him SWEETHEART???' yeah. that's what i thought. you know why he didn't? because it was too revealing.
number four: top cockles autograph moment
i mean, i think we all know what it's gonna be, and if you don't, well, do i have the piece de cockles resistance that is gonna send you over the edge.
if you haven't heard of this story by now, as a cockles, truther, i'm gonna go ahead and get you to read it, because there is no possible heterosexual explanation for any of it, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise.
spoiler alert: it's the story where phones weren't allowed in an auto session, jensen nuzzles himself in misha's hair, leans his full body weight onto him, holds his hand, etc. etc. i'm imploding just repeating this back, actually. also, just, the sheer amount of stories from photo ops where they tackle hug each other or slap each other's asses or sing romantic songs to each other or almost kiss is, frankly, a lot. if i could wish for anything, it would be to witness them in person.
and finally,
number five: top cockles social media moment
this one is super difficult, because there's obviously a lot to choose from. but you know what? full send, i'm going with this one:
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i just. what to say about this. how often do misha and jensen watch sunsets together for it to qualify as ‘always’ ??? why are sunsets synonymous with their relationship??? that’s like??? a very romantic thing????? ‘this guy’??? the fact that it’s a CANDID??? i don’t know guys.
that could have been better but i am TIRED so. there you go rose ily
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capsironunderoos · 3 years ago
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I Told You So
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Sergeant Hunter X Female!Reader
Request: @mandos-crest​ Sergeant Hunter is absolute putty around the reader. He denies it to his brothers, but it’s totally obvious. He’s over protective and whipped for them, and the reader is completely oblivious too! The Bad Batch think Hunter is being super nice.
Word Count: 1,413
Warnings: None! But there is a suggestive scene with a bad dude in a bar...
Author’s Note: Hey hey! Sorry this took me so long to crank out, I really wanted it to meet your request! I hope you like it! 
Also, italics mean past tense, and some of this is in Omega’s POV!
Here’s a link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist
“There it is, that look I was telling you about,” Hunter hears mumbled behind him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. 
He’s too busy watching you play with Omega. You’re sitting cross-legged on the ground, nodding along with Omega as she tells you a story. You idly hold her stormtrooper doll as she holds Lula, both of you fully engrossed in the story Omega is telling. 
“He looks like he’s about to burst into song,” he hears someone else mumble, and he rolls his eyes as he casts one last glance your way before turning to see Echo and Tech standing behind him, arms crossed in front of their chest as they stand in identical positions. 
“What is this, an intervention?” Hunter asks, missing the way your gaze now shifts to watch him speaking with Echo and Tech. 
“Of sorts,” Tech starts, and Hunter huffs. 
“I told you we’d leave as soon as we gathered some more supplies and made a few minor repairs to the ship,” he starts, referring to the dreadfully hot planet the crew had to make a last-minute landing on. 
“As good as that would be, we’re actually referring to… something else,” Echo clears his throat at Tech’s wording, and he sighs before correcting it. “Someone else,” he amends. 
“Oh no, no. We’re not talking about this again,” Hunter counters, and you continue to watch him as his arms swing as he speaks, his hands emphasizing his words. 
A smile plays on your lips and Omega looks up from Lula when she notices you’ve fallen quiet. Her eyebrows furrow as her mind begins to work. 
“I think we need to,” Echo responds, and Hunter’s shoulders drop. “You can’t go five minutes without asking where she is, without being near her. She even took a nap in your quarters last hyperspace jump!” Tech adds rather factually, and Hunter sends a pointed look his way. 
“Omega…” he mutters and shakes his head. “Listen, I see where you’re coming from, but I worry about all of you. And yes maybe I worry about her a little bit more, but it’s because of what she means to Omega.” 
“And to you,” Wrecker adds from behind him, and he sighs again. 
“Not you too,” he responds, turning to send a somewhat disappointed look to Wrecker. 
Omega has pieced it together. 
You like Hunter! 
She’s not entirely sure what that means, but she knows that you don’t look at the others the same way you look at him. She knows that he looks at you the same way, and that it means something... important. The two of you take care of everyone that’s true, but the care you share for each other is… different. It’s sweeter, softer, and she’s noticed it. 
She’s not the only one. 
“Okay that was one time!” Hunter argues, hands thrown up in aggravation and growing defeat. 
“It definitely was not! I can point to three different scuffs on your armor right now that are from you jumping in-between her and a blaster bolt, and those are just the ones I witnessed.” Echo counters. 
“I would take a blaster bolt for any of you, although that sentiment weakens each time we have this conversation,” Hunter retorts. 
“Fine, what about our last job for Sid hmm?” Hunter knows what Tech is referencing. 
You had volunteered to go undercover at a seedy bar, and Hunter was adamantly against it. He’d pulled you aside just before the mission, hand gripping your arm as he pulled you into a shadowed alley, eyes searching yours for even a hint of doubt. Any inkling that it wasn’t what you wanted and he would call it, no questions asked and credits be damned. 
“Hunter,” you whispered, hand coming to rest on his armor-covered chest, “I’ll be fine. I made my way through the galaxy before I met you. I can handle one womp rat in a bar, okay? And if not, you’ll only be one comm call away.” 
He still searches your eyes as he begins to speak, “What if you can’t get to your comms hmm? What if I’m too late? What if something happens and I can’t get to you?” He whispers, a strain in his voice. 
You smile softly and shake your head. 
“That would never happen. You always keep me safe.” 
“That creep had it comin’,” Hunter counters, albeit weakly. 
“He was walking right into our trap, you know, that we set up as a group, that we all agreed on? You definitely cost us those credits, and you know why.” Tech adds, still upset about the loss of credits from that particular mission. 
Hunter watches from a booth across the bar, eyes never leaving your back as he watches you flirt with the Twi’Lek saddled beside you. His body is turned to face yours, legs braced on either side of your stool so that you’re somewhat trapped with him. His left arm rests against your lower back, and his right is braced on the countertop of the bar. He leans over every so often to whisper in your ear and your shoulders shake with giggles. 
It’s enough to make Hunter want to punch him into the Outer Rim, but he stays seated. He watches for a few more minutes, telling himself to trust you, to trust the plan. 
The Twi’Lek moves again, this time his left hand moves from your lower back to brush your hair off of your shoulder before leaning in and beginning to press kisses to your bare shoulder. 
Hunter swears under his breath.
He watches as the Twi’Lek’s right hand grabs your chin, his left resting once more on your lower back. He’s pulling you into him, and Hunter is grinding his teeth so hard that his jaw will be sore for the next few weeks. He notices your hands bracing against his chest, slipping against the material of his shirt as you try and push him off of you. He pulls harder, suddenly showing enough strength to pull you completely into his lap. His left hand wraps around your stomach, pressing you into him, as his right hand begins to trail up your thigh. 
Hunter sees you struggling and is out of his seat so fast that he briefly registers the sound of his chair hitting the floor. He sees red as he knocks people out of his path, not hesitating to grab the shoulder of the Twi’Lek. 
“When a lady says no, she means no,” Hunter growls, pulling you behind him before throwing the Twi’Lek onto the floor of the bar. 
“I had him,” he hears you yell over the sound of his fist connecting with the Twi’Lek’s jaw. 
“I know you did,” he sighs as he lands another punch. 
“Okay,” Hunter agrees, nodding slowly, “that was my fault. But none of you saw what I did.” 
“Fine. What about your last few rations?” Wrecker brings up, and Hunter’s stomach decides to growl on cue. “We’re running low on food, but she always gets a full portion. And I don’t know the last time I saw you eat!” Wrecker yelps, and Hunter shushes him. 
“Let’s circle back to the nap, shall we?” Tech starts. “You let her sleep in your room, Hunter. In your room. The room that you specifically picked because it’s the farthest away from everyone on the ship. I don’t even know how to get to your room, if I’m being quite frank with you.” 
Hunter stands rigidly still as Tech talks to him, and Omega continues to watch you watch him. She smiles as she stands, handing Lula to you. 
“Here, I’ll be back,” she says, and you nod, still watching Hunter, mind not fully focused on the current conversation. Omega almost laughs at you as she begins to walk towards Hunter. The closer she gets the more their conversation becomes audible. 
“You like her, Hunter. You look at her differently, and you protect her in ways I’ve never seen you protect anything, or anyone for that matter. Yes, you look out for us, but not in the same way, and you know it.” Echo is finishing softly as Omega walks up, the conversation falling silent as they notice her appearance. 
They all look at her for a moment before she lays a hand on Hunter's arm, patting it reassuringly. 
“It’s okay Hunter, she likes you too!” Omega says, a large smile on her face. Hunter's eyes widen as Wrecker laughs. 
“Told you so!”  
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago
Text
Would You Rather?
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: Tom mentions his crush on you during an interview and you respond
Authors note: this was requested by anon who gave a generous donation to the BLM fund. Thank you!
Masterlist
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“Would you rather fight a horse sized duck or a duck sized horse?” Tom read off a card as he adjusted the collar on his blue jumpsuit.
“I don’t know what situation I’d be in where I’d have to fight either of these animals.” He started as he looked at the camera. “I feel like I’d rather fight duck sized horse because that’s pretty small. I could probably defeat that. But a horse sized duck could bite me, you know?”
The crew nodded in agreement and Tom moved on to the next question.
“Would you rather lose the ability to read or the ability to speak?” Tom scratched behind his head as he thought about it.
“I barely have the ability to read as it is.” He laughed. “I’m an actor, so I feel like I need the ability to speak.”
He dropped that card on the couch and picked up the next one.
“Would you rather have Captain Marvel or Black Cat as your girlfriend?” He smiled as he read.
“I don’t know if they mean as my girlfriend or as Spider-Man’s girlfriend but I without a doubt would pick Black Cat.” Tom said confidently. “I was so upset when they cast Y/n L/n as the Black Cat and didn’t connect her movie to the Spider-Man universe.”
“Why were you upset?” A crew member asked.
“Because I’m in love with Y/n.” Tom laughed like it was obvious. “I must’ve seen every movie of hers 100 times. Especially the Black Cat suit because she looked so freaking hot in that.”
“She really did.” A female lighting director nodded in agreement.
“Right? If Black Cat was Spider-Man’s girlfriend and Y/n was my girlfriend I’d be a very happy man.” Tom sighed dreamily and toyed with the card as he day dreamed about you.
That video went up a few days later and made the usual headlines. You were well aware of Tom as an actor but completely unaware of his crush on you. Your heart stopped that first time you saw the headline:
“Watch Tom Holland gush over his celebrity crush, Y/n L/n.”
And yes, you did watch.
You watched many times in fact. The part where he said he was in love with you was your personal favorite. After getting sent the video by all your friends and fans, you decided to do something about it.
“@tomholland1996 you look pretty hot in your suit as well. And out of the suit. And in regular clothes. Damn dude, you’re pretty hot.”
You posted the tweet with a devious smile and shut your phone off. Whatever the world had to say about it, they could wait until the next morning.
~
You were woken up early the next morning by your phone ringing. You wiped the sleep from your eyes but kept them shut as you held your phone to your ear.
“Hello?” You said groggily.
“Y/n? It’s your manager. I have some exciting news.” Your manager sounded giddy on the other side of the line.
“So exciting that you had to wake me up?” You laughed sleepily.
“I don’t know.” She humored you. “Do you think the Russo Brothers emailing me and asking you to come to set is exciting?”
You sat up quickly as your eyes flew open.
“What?” You shrieked in excitement.
“They said they’ve been rewriting the script for Infinity War for the past few weeks and it’s finally finished. They added a scene with the Black Cat.” She said in a sing song voice. Your breath hitched in your throat as the news flooded into your ears.
“You’re kidding.” You gasped.
“Nope. Can you drive down to set at 1? I sent you the address.” She told you.
“I’ll be there.” You nodded as a wide smile spread across your face. Your manager hung up and you threw down your phone.
“AHHHH.” You screamed in excitement and immediately got dressed. It was finally happening.
You were finally going to be in the MCU.
~
You arrived at the address promptly before 1 and were led to set by an assistant. The Russo Brothers met you by the trailers and introduced themselves.
“Great to meet you.” Joe shook your hand, then Anthony. “How much did your manager tell you?”
“Just that you added a scene with the Black Cat.” You nodded as you relayed all the information you had.
“Right. We decided to add the Black Cat to the MCU now that her character has been established in your solo movie.” Anthony explained. “We had to keep it a secret until now to keep it from getting leaked. We have big plans for your character, starting with this movie.”
You smiled gratefully at the two of them and nodded enthusiastically.
“Thank you so much for the opportunity. I’m so honored to be here. What are the plans?” You asked as you twisted your fingers nervously.
“For starters, meet your new boyfriend.” Joe chuckled and turned around and pointed.
“Boyfriend?” You asked and followed his finger.
“Tom, get over here.” He called. Your eyes widened when you realized what name he called and you looked up to see Tom jogging over to you.
“What’s up guys?” He looked at the Russo bothers before his eyes landed on you. His smile faded and he blinked a few times to register the sight in front of him.
“Hi.” His face flushed and he smiled shyly at you.
“Hi.” You smiled back, still not believing what was happening.
“I’m- I’m Tom.” He fumbled over his words as he held out his hand.
“I know.” You laughed softly as you shook his hand.
“Right, sorry.” He shook his head in embarrassment. “Whats uh, what’s she doing here?”
“Change of plans.” Anthony smirked as he handed you and Tom a few pages of the script.
“You’re giving me a script?” Tom asked in disbelief as he ran his fingers over the crisp white pages.
“Yes. Don’t make us regret it.” Joe said sternly.
“Yes sir.” Tom nodded eagerly and began to flip through it.
“Peter is going to get thrown by one of Thanos’s men and Black Cat is going to catch him.” Anthony began to explain. “She saw the spaceship, came to help, and winds up in space with Tony, Steven, and Peter.”
“That’s awesome.” Tom breathed. “This looks really cool.”
You were so wrapped up in the excitement of holding a real Marvel script that you had forgotten the brothers original statement.
“Hold on. You said he was my boyfriend.” You looked at Joe and Anthony skeptically.
“Boyfriend?” Tom perked up from his script and looked between the three of you. “Me boyfriend? To her? Please say yes. I’m fine either way it’s just, I would really like you to say yes right now.
“Yes Tom.” Joe laughed. “Right as they’re falling in love, poof.”
“Dust.” Anthony finished. You and Tom shared a look, evidently impressed.
“That’s brutal.” You remarked.
“It is.” Joe agreed. “Until they’re reunited in Endgame in a similar fashion to the way they met.”
“And the crowd goes wild.” Anthony said slowly. You got chills just thinking about it and smiled as you rubbed your arms.
“I like it.” You nodded and Tom bit back a smile.
“Me too.” He said softly. “I like it a lot.”
“Great.” Anthony rubbed his hands together. “Rehearsal starts tomorrow.”
The brothers walked away, leaving you and Tom alone with each other.
“They don’t play around over here. I just got cast and already I’m on set.” You chuckled and shyly looked at Tom. He was so much cuter in person, the camera didn’t do justice to his freckles. Tom nodded and gave you a half smile.
“Yeah, they’re pretty unorthodox over here. I’d tell you you’d get used to it, but I’d be lying.” Tom shook his head and gave you a once over. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I can’t believe you told the world I looked hot in my catsuit but never dmed me to ask for my number.” You shrugged easily and Toms jaw dropped at your boldness.
“In my defense, you are way too cool to be interested in me. At least I knew my place.” He shot back and you laughed.
“Didn’t you see my tweet last night?” You asked coyly as you raised an eyebrow.
“What tweet? The one about you calling me hot? The one that I sent to every single contact in my phone, including my dentist?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows. “No, I don’t think I saw it.”
“Funny.” You folded your arms and gave him a sultry smile. “I never checked if you responded.”
“I’d rather if you didn’t. It wasn’t very smooth.” He admitted.
“Hey, Tom?”
“Yes?” He looked at you.
“Would you rather continue talking in the middle of a crowded set or go somewhere secluded to run our lines?” You made a callback to his interview that started it all and he noticed.
“Run lines please. I need to quit while I’m ahead.” He eyed you with uncertainty as he thought about his words. “I was ahead, right?”
“Yeah.” You smirked and linked your arm through his. “You were ahead.”
~
“Kid, what are you doing here?” Tony asked as he craned his neck to see Peter.
“On a field trip to MOMAAAAAA.” Peter yelled as he was flung into the sky. He flew through the air like a rag doll until he landed in your arms. You breathed heavily, you in your masks and suits.
“Hey there.” You smirked at Peter as you held him bridal style.
“Hi, I’m Peter. You’re really pretty.” He said through heavy pants. “Can you pretend I didn’t just say that?”
“Hi Peter.” Your wine colored lips tugged into a smile. “Should you really be telling me your name? I could be dangerous.” You pouted as you set him down.
“Oh, right.” Peter got back on his feet and brushed off his suit. “In that case, I’m not Peter. I’m…Pedro.”
“Mm, Pedro. I like it.” You winked and saw one of Thanos’s minions coming at him from behind. “Watch out.”
You spun around and kicked the minion in the face before hooking your legs around his neck and knocking him to the ground. One swift punch to the throat knocked him unconscious. You stood up and waltzed back over to Peter as you dusted off your hands.
“Woah, where’d you learn to do that?” The eyes of Peters mask widened as you impressed him with your skills.
“A woman’s got to protect herself, right?” You shrugged and popped gum in your mouth before eyeing him up and down. “And apparently, I have to protect you too.”
“I’m totally fine with that.” Peter answered honestly. “Do you have a name?”
You wrapped your arms around Peters neck and blew a bubble with your gum.
“Black Cat.” You said once it popped. The sent of bubble gum filled Peters nostrils and his knees weakened.
“That explains the catsuit.” He gulped. “What, no tail?”
“Tails are so cliche.” You whined and stroked his covered cheek with your hand. “I’m a cat burglar, not a halloween costume.”
“If this is how you go out on a normal day, I’d love to see what you wear in Halloween.” Peter attempted time flirt back with the mysterious woman distracting him from his mission. You leaned forward, close enough that your lips were almost touching.
“I bet you would.” You whispered. You patted his cheek and turned away swiftly, whipping his face with your long gray ponytail. Peter let out a throaty groan as the scent of your perfume enveloped him. You walked around him in a circle, dragging your fingernail along his shoulders as you went.
“Since you know my name is Peter, it’s only fair you tell me yours.” He said as he turned his head to look at you. You paused, standing directly behind him.
“You really wanna know my name?” You challenged.
“That’s what I just said.” Peter sassed you. You smirked and took a step towards Peter so you were pressed against his back, gripping his waist tightly.
“Hardy.” You said right in his ear and he shivered. “Felicia Hardy. I’ve seen you around, Spiderman. You’re pretty good.”
You finished your circle and stood in front of him now. He was grateful for his mask, otherwise you could see just how red he had gone. His heart was racing out of his chest just from the look of you. The white fur cuffs and skintight black suit were making it impossible for him to focus.
“Just pretty good?” He questioned. “I’ve taken down a lot of bad guys.”
“Mm, but never me.” You taunted as you twirled your gray hair around your finger, wanting to get a rise out of you.
“You’re a bad guy?”
“Depends on your definition of bad guy.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and let your teeth drag. “Do you think I’m bad?”
“Depends on your definition of bad.” Peter straightened up.
“This has been fun.” You smirked and tossed your ponytail over your shoulder. Nice talking to you, Peter.”
“You too.” Peter smiled under his mask until a Boulder was flung your way. “Look out!”
Peter shot a web at you and pulled you flushed against his chest. He pulled you to the ground and rolled on top of you as the boulder went over your heads. It was your turn to be blushing as you stared at Peter in amazement.
“How did you-“
“Spidey senses.” He answered before you could finish your question. He could feel his body beginning to lift into the air with you following. “Oh no.”
“What’s happening?” You asked as you and Peter lifted into the air. You clutched him tightly to keep from falling and Peter held on to you for support.
“Mr Stark!” He yelled. “I’m being beamed up!”
“And cut!” Anthony yelled. The wires holding you and Tom up slowly lowered you back down until you were back on the ground. Tom rolled off of you and fell on his back, breathing heavily from the scene. He pulled his mask off and rested it on his tummy.
“Whew.” He panted and looked at you with a tired smile. “Great work.”
You smiled back at Tom, still flushing from the flirty scene. You had done that scene many times from rehearsal all the way to production, but never that well. Your heart usually stopped racing by now, but something about the way he was looking at you kept it in rhythm.
“You too.” You complimented him as you sat up. You helped each other up and pulled each other into a sweaty hug.
“That’s a wrap guys. Great work today.” Joe announced. “Before you leave, I have the official version of the script. This is what we’re going to be filming tomorrow. We couldn’t give it to you until now in case someone spoiled it.”
Joe glared at Tom as he handed out the final scripts.
“I hate it here.” Tom mumbled as his ability to keep secrets was once again under fire.
“Great, thank you.” You smiled at Joe before he walked away. Tom came over to you, hitting his rolled up script against his hand.
“Do you want to go over our lines for tomorrow?” Tom asked.
“Sure. I’ll meet you there after I drop off my costume.” You told him.
Twenty minutes later, your wig and costume were returned to the costume department. You wiped off your makeup and changed into comfortable clothes before heading to Tom’s. You let out a shaky breath as you walked towards his trailer. You’d been in there a hundred times since production began a few months ago, but today felt different. There was something in the air between you and Tom that neither of you could ignore. You knocked on his door and heard your heartbeat in your ears as you waited for him to open. Tom gave you a shy smile as he opened the door of his trailer door for you and stepped aside.
“Sorry, it’s a little messy.” He apologized as he shut the door behind him. You looked around at Toms trailer, noting the clothes hanging off the ceiling fan and the pictures of the two of you taped to his mirror. You walked over to the mirror and touched the picture with a light smile. It was a strip of picture taken in a photo booth a few weeks into production. The photos went from you and Tom smiling, to laughing, to you kissing his cheek, to him kissing your cheek as you laughed. You had spent your only day off together, hanging out a a fair until the sun was coming up. After getting stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel for 15 minutes and clinging to Tom every time it shook, you ran to the photo booth to immortalize the night. You had the exact same strip of photos on your dresser at home, but you never noticed that he displayed them so proudly.
“It’s very you in here.” You looked at him over your shoulder and shot him a smile.
“Thanks?” He bit his lip in confusion.
“Don’t worry. It was a compliment.” You said pointedly and walked back towards him. “Should we look at the script?” You suggested and he nodded.
“Yeah. Here, take a seat.” He sat on his bed and patted the spot next to you. You sat next to him and folded your legs, beginning to flip through the script.
“This looks the same as the last script.” You realized when you recognized the words. Tom flipped through his script and came to a halt when he read something unexpected.
“It’s not.” He said with a dry mouth.
“What’s different?” You looked up at him in confusion.
“There’s a kiss.” He looked you to and saw your face go pale.
“A kiss?” You stammered and went back to your script to find what he was talking about.
“Right here.” Peter held out his script and pointed to the part. “Felicia kisses Peter before she turns to dust.” He read.
“So this is what they didn’t want you spoiling.” You laughed nervously as you read the stage direction over and over.
“They might’ve made a good call on that one.” Tom chuckled softly. “I’m really tempted right now to post a picture of the script on twitter just to rub it in everyone’s face.”
You looked up from the script and gave him a fond smile.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You said softly.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “It’s not everyday you get cast opposite your celebrity crush.”
“How do you think I felt when I got cast as your girlfriend?” You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your chin on top.
“You...liked me?” Tom asked quietly. He didn’t let himself believe it, not wanting to get his hopes up.
“For a long time now.” You admitted. Production was about to end anyway. If he didn’t feel the same, there was nothing you could do about it, but at least he knew.
Tom blinked a few times as he registered what you said and smiled widely.
“I’m really glad I got to know you these past few months. You’re a lot cooler in person.” Tom said sincerely. “Honestly, I have no idea how I’m supposed to act beside you tomorrow knowing I have to kiss you.”
“Tom.” You said breathlessly at his words.
“I’m already a nervous wreck. My mind is in sicko mode right now. I can’t even read.” He put his script down and sighed.
“I think I might be able to calm you down.”
“How?” He wondered. He looked up at you for answers, but was met with a kiss. You tilted your head to the side and pressed your lips against his feeling his eyelashes brush your cheek as his eyes fluttered shut. Tom brought his hand to the side of your face for support and gently rubbed his thumb against your cheek. You smiled against his lips and sat up a little to get a better angle and kissed him deeply. You pulled away to catch your breath and rested your forehead against his. The only sound in the trailer was from your heavy breathing.
“You’re really smart.” He said quietly. “I feel significantly calmer.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” You chuckled softly. Tom pulled away and took on of your hands in his, rubbing gentle circles on the back of it.
“I have a question for you.” He said.
“Go for it.” You bit your bottom lip as you both spoke in hushed tones.
“Would you rather,” he began with a coy smile, “kiss me again or go on a date with me?”
“I can’t have both?” You pouted and a wicked flame ignited in Toms eyes. He hooked his pinky under your chin and moved your face towards his, leaning close enough that his lips brushed yours when he spoke.
“I think I can make an exception.” He whispered before kissing you again.
Tag List 🏷
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writefightandflightclub · 4 years ago
Text
Too much information (Frankie Morales x GN reader)
Summary: you’re dating Frankie in secret, and Pope is on to you. Brunch probably isn’t the best place to put his interrogation skills to use, but do you really think that’s going to stop him?! No, me neither.
Author’s note: this is just a quick, silly, shortish blurb. Nothing special but the scene popped into my head and then my finger slipped, so here you go. It’s mainly between reader and Pope, but you are dating Frankie and he does appear.
Warnings: not really. Food mention.
GIF by @themarcusmoreno
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“Is that ‘Fish’s t-shirt?” Pope asks bluntly, as he settles into the booth opposite you, the group gradually gathering for lunch. You had arrived first, and begun perusing the menu.
“Normal people might shoot for a hello,” you josh, standing and leaning over the table to greet him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Yeah, that too,” he grins. “Well, is it?”
Before you retake your seat, you take a quick look down at the garment in question. A marled-grey band shirt.
“No,” you answer adamantly, crinkling your face in confusion. “It’s not.”
“You sure?” Pope presses, and he leans in, resting on his folded arms. His stare is intense, and you suddenly feel like you’re in an interrogation. You suddenly feel very sorry indeed for his prior subjects, considering this is a mere taster of the intensity they were subjected to.
“Yes,” you say in a level voice, looking him dead in the eye.
“Hmm,” he nods, considering it, his hand rasping over his stubble. He takes a menu too, from the stash at the far-end of the booth. You hope he’s dropping the topic, but no such luck. “See. You already made one mistake,” he breezes, and you squirm in your seat. “You checked. You looked down, as if it could be Frankie’s t-shirt.”
You saw your jaw from side-to-side.
“Which I’m pretty sure it is,” he adds with a flourish of his hand, his eyes flashing with a smug pride.
“It’s not,” you snap, staring him down until he raises his hands in surrender.
“Okay.”
Finally. You look down at the menu, selecting your burger and milkshake combo. But he’s not done yet. Of course. Air seethes out out your nose. “Looks like his though. Doesn’t really fit you either. Not really your usual style,” he muses, as if ticking off a checklist in his head.
You huff, and look back up at him. “You have too much time on your hands, Pope. How’s that job-hunt coming? Or, actually, when did you last get laid? Think you need to find somewhere to direct all this excess energy.”
You should have said yes. Should have made-up an excuse about how you needed to borrow some clothes. Because it definitely is Frankie’s t-shirt.
He knows it. But if you admit it is Frankie’s t-shirt, at this point, you are admitting a whole lot more besides.
“Now now. No need to get personal.” You wish you could knock the shit-eating grin off his face. “Just answer the question.”
“This is how I wear my clothes now,” you say, gesturing down at yourself. It’s flimsy and you know it.
“Okay.”
You’re really starting to hate the way he says that.
He’s quiet for a beat, and you think he may have given up, but, to your ire, apparently not. Instead, Pope leans over the table and presses his nose right into your shoulder, taking a whiff. “Kinda smells like his detergent too.”
You pull back from him in disbelief. He recognises his detergent? “That’s fucked up, Pope. Why are you so obsessed with Frankie?”
Your comments don’t seem to rile him. Instead, Pope’s eyes flash with a sudden knowledge.
Balls. That was your second mistake. You called him “Frankie”. Not “‘Fish”. Fuck. You flare your nostrils in annoyance and only hope that Pope missed it.
“Well? Explain that. Why does it smell like... Frankie?” No chance that he missed it, then?
“Guess we use the same brand,” you dismiss, propping your chin on one of your hands as you continue to review the specials, in an attempt to obscure your face.
“Uh-huh. Okay.” You bristle. There it is again. Maybe he simply irritates all of his subjects into confessing. He’s certainly irritating enough for that to be plausible. “So, let’s recap, shall we? You dress like him now, and use his detergent? Why are you so obsessed with him?”
“He’s a role model for us all, pendejo.”
He ticks up an eyebrow, looking distinctly unimpressed by your insult.
“Pendejo?”
“And I really mean that,” you say, with a saccharine smile, even as you reach across and bat his cap from his head with a quick boop under the brim.
He half rolls his eyes at you, and yet you can tell he’s biting back a smile as he scoops it up from where it landed and places it by his side on the seat.
“So you weren’t at his place last night?”
“Nope,” you say, popping the “p” and refusing to look-up.
“Didn’t arrive together and stagger your entry to avoid being caught? Because I’m pretty sure his truck’s parked out front and yours... isn’t. And yet here you are, and here he’s not.”
Well. You don’t have an answer for that one. Not right away.
Pope grins smugly, enjoying that he’s getting under your skin.
Shit, where is Frankie? Where are the Millers? Literally anyone. Pope evidently thinks you’re the weak link while you’re alone, and you’re not doing a whole lot to prove him wrong.
“I walked here,” you say weakly.
Pope even goes so far as to dip his head under the table.
“In those boots? Don’t they kill your feet?”
Well at least he was paying attention when the boys made you walk all the way across town that time, to get to this one “must-visit” dive bar. Kinda sweet he remembered actually. Unless, of course, he simply gathers information to use it against you, during times like this, for example.
Eyes drawn away from the booth, you finally see Frankie walk through the door, and you let out a breath of relief. Still, as Pope raises a thick eyebrow at you, examining every expression on your face, you try to avoid looking at Frankie altogether, just so you don’t give anything away.
Pleasantly oblivious, Frankie comes in and settles right next to you in the booth.
“Hey,” he says brightly to the both of you, before smiling at you a little too long, and so -subtly but pointedly- you bump his knee with yours to alert him to play it a little cool. He doesn’t get the memo. Instead, he points down at your torso, without thinking. “Is that my t-shirt?”
Your eyes flutter closed to the sound of a smug, victorious laugh from Pope. Groaning, you put your head in your hands, peeking at your interrogator through your fingers. You watch him lean back in the booth, raising his arms to rest his head on his interlaced fingers, and a smug grin extending over his face.
“Fucking knew it.”
Quickly putting it together, with a gasp of breath, Frankie realises what he’s said. He quickly tries to smooth it over with some elaborate excuse, but you place your hand on his denim-clad thigh and gently shake your head. “He knows, Frankie,” you sigh. “He’s on to us. Basically interrogated me.”
There is a heated and mile-a-minute exchange between the two men in Spanish, and it sounds animated but is clearly somewhat good-natured, typical of their dynamic. Then, Frankie turns back to you. “You know how to shut him up, though?” he smiles. “Give him too much information.”
And he’s not wrong. As soon as Frankie begins to start describing a list of hypothetical activities from last night in vivid detail, Santi quickly holds his hands up in defeat. “Woah, Buddy. Alright. I get it. Fuck.”
Honestly - these two. You roll your eyes, even as you shake out a laugh.
“Hell. I need a drink,” you express, and you step away to the bar, leaving your interrogation behind for a moment.
As you look on though, it seems like poor Frankie’s interrogation is only just beginning.
“So, how long has this been happening?” Santi asks warmly.
“How long do you think?” Frankie asks out of curiosity- wanting to assess Pope’s abilities.
The man weighs it up, his hand smoothing over his stubble. “One month, give or take.”
“Three,” Frankie confirms, a hint of pride flashing in his soft, brown eyes as he realises you’ve outdone Pope, even for a little while.
In contrast though, victory is suddenly the last thing on Pope’s mind, and he’s more concerned with how damn happy his friend looks as he reveals this information. Pope mirrors Frankie’s wide, beaming smile, and he reaches across the table to deliver a few solid, congratulatory pats to his shoulder. “I’m happy for you, man.”
Frankie’s smile lingers, and he steals a sweeping glance over at you as you lean-up against the bar, his eyes shining as he takes you in.
“How’s it going between you? This a serious thing or just fucking?” Pope asks, although he could hazard a pretty safe guess.
Frankie’s hands disappear into the sleeves of his cord jacket, and his eyelashes flutter bashfully. “I’m in love, man. I’m in some deep shit.”
Santi smiles, tapping Frankie on the arm and giving him a heads-up that you’re on your way back over with the drinks.
You smile brightly at him from across the way, and Pope looks between the two of you. Frankie certainly does look like a goner, he considers.
“Plus - shit,” Frankie adds quickly, in the moment before you come back into earshot. “Seeing them in my t-shirt is Doing Things for me, man.”
“Hermano,” he chuckles. “That’s too much information.”
You arrive back to the table to the sound of Frankie’s delightfully throaty chuckle - your second favourite sound in the world (since hooking-up, you have found one noise he makes which is even better). As you slide in beside the boys, you see the doors swing as the Millers enter the establishment in tandem.
You gaze at Frankie for a few moments, and you steal a final glance back at Pope. He’s still looking at you, but now he looks satisfied, as if he’s put a final piece of the puzzle together.
You don’t know it, but Pope’s suddenly deeply happy for his friends. He has the final piece of information, and to him, it’s quite plain to see. You’re clearly in love; and you’re evidently a complete goner for Frankie too.
“Hey, Millers- did you know these two are hooking-up in secret?” Pope asks loudly as the brothers join you around the table.
Well - he’s got it partly right. You are hooking-up, but it obviously isn’t a secret anymore.
You could care less.
When Frankie takes your hand under the table, giving it a little squeeze, you can’t help the smile which lights your face. Suddenly, you can’t help wanting to tell the whole world that Frankie is your man. And, what better people to begin with than your squad?
447 notes · View notes
narutogwriting · 4 years ago
Text
A Kunai is Not a Knife
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⋇✦ Pairing
Kakashi Hatake x Reader
⋇✦ Genre
fluff; one shot
⋇✦ CW
none
⋇✦ Length
1.6k
⋇✦ Request by @kakashiswilloffire : can I request kakashi or shikamaru trying and failing to cook dinner for a gn!reader? like never used a knife that wasn't a kunai but wants to do something nice for their partner?
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Kakashi was a more than capable shinobi. Son of the white fang, he was a legend in his own right. Being one of the youngest ninja to graduate the academy at age five, he went on to become a chunin at just age six. By the time of the third ninja war, Kakashi was a jonin, trusted to lead his own team.
He was Kakashi of the Sharingan, the copy cat ninja. Kakashi joined the ANBU, was the third Hokage’s right hand man for a time, and feared across the nations.
He was strong, he was intelligent, he was good with a kunai.
But for the life of him, Kakashi could not use a food knife.
“Shit shit shit,” he cursed, shoving his now bleeding thumb in his mouth, tasting the metallic on his tongue.
With his free hand, he grabbed the remote, pausing the cooking show he was watching that was attempting to teach him how to make dinner. It was a little out of his league as a person that survived mostly on takeout, but Kakashi had been optimistic and confident in his abilities.
Because really, how hard could cooking be?
And yes, okay, he absolutely could activate his sharingan, watch the cooking show--memorizing every meticulous movement of the chef on the television--and prepare the most decadent meal you’d ever tasted all from the comfort of your home.
But at this point, it was a matter of pride.
Kakashi was a grown man. He could cook dinner for his girlfriend. It really shouldn’t be this hard.
That’s what he told himself as he sucked on his stinging thumb. He’d tried to chop the vegetables as quickly and diligently as the chef had done and subsequently cut into his finger. Luckily it was a superficial injury, something he would forget about in the next ten minutes, but the point stood that there was no reason he should be so *bad at this.
It was a knife for god’s sake; Kakashi was basically born holding one. Given they were different tools for very different purposes, but when it came down to it, a knife was a knife. Or so he thought.
Sighing, Kakashi glanced at the clock. You’d be off your shift soon and then heading home. It was your ninth consecutive shift at the hospital. A small factory fire left many injured--thankfully not fatally--and so you had been putting in overtime to make sure the patients were taken care of and your coworkers were not left stranded without help.
You took your work very seriously, and Kakashi loved and appreciated that about you. You were such a hard worker, and it made Kakashi proud to call you his. But as such, you’d been obviously exhausted, spending all your time home asleep, and Kakashi was sure you weren’t taking adequate enough breaks to nourish yourself properly.
He just wanted to do something nice for you. Coming home to a nice home cooked meal and a warm bath waiting seemed like the perfect way to kick off the four days off you had coming your way.
“Alright, Kakashi. You can do this…” He muttered in an attempt to hype himself up. He picked up the aforementioned tool from hell, taking it to the sink to sanitize it of his blood.
He turned back to the onions then, pressing play on the tv and trying to dice them into tiny pieces just like the chef was doing so easily. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get them into small enough pieces. He knew you loved the taste onions provided, but didn’t like the sensation of chewing them.
It was a weird thing you were particular about, something so small it would be easy to pass over and forget about, but Kakashi knew everything about you, noticed every small quirk and committed it to memory.
Like the way you would read a book, and if a character winked, you winked instinctively as well. If someone came up and startled you, you would yell “ow” even though you weren’t hurt. You had a dimple only in your left cheek, and the only time it was visible was when you were especially happy, and when you were anxious, you’d swipe your fingers over your lips.
Kakashi noticed and loved everything about you.
Which was why he needed this damn onions to just *get smaller.* They were too big, you’d definitely taste them, and it would ruin the whole meal! He was determined to get them just tiny enough to taste without having to chew them.
“Could I juice them…?” Kakashi wondered to himself as he tossed the horrid knife on the counter in annoyance. Maybe squeezing the onions really tightly over the meal would add enough flavor.
Deciding he’d get back to those later, he grabbed another knife and pulled a pomegranate from the fridge. Kakashi never actually had a pomegranate before, and he’d only seen you eat one once or twice.
You had a thing about pomegranates; they were your favorite fruits, but you would only eat them on special occasions as a way to reward yourself--just another one of your little quirks.
So Kakashi was going to cut one open and get all the juicy seeds in a bowl for you as a special treat.
Unfortunately, because Kakshi didn’t eat pomegranates on his own and didn’t see you eat them often enough, he had no idea just how messy they could really be.
*Screw the knife,* Kakashi decided to himself. *I’m a shinobi. I can do this without that stupid thing.*
So Kakashi, in all his *genius, pulled his Kunai from his leg strap. They used to play games like this in the academy; they called it fruit ninja. The goal was to slice a fruit in the air with your kunai as concisely as possible.
Kakashi always won.
He tossed the pomegranate high in the air, ready to dice the fruit and have it up for serving. Quick as a flash of lightning, the Kunai struck through the juicy pomegranate, promptly causing it to *explode--juices and seeds and all.
And what was also unfortunate was Kakashi was moving so quickly, already prepared to slice the fruit, that his hand moved faster than his brain, and he sliced at the pomegranate three more times before he could stop himself.
Juices and seeds splattered the entire kitchen covering the counters, the cupboards, the floors, and Kakashi.
You walked in at that moment, greeted with what appeared to be a murder scene with a defeated Kakashi standing in the middle of it.
You stared in quiet shock for a moment as you took in Kakashi’s expression. You’d never seen him look so forlorn in your life. His arms were hanging idly at his side, the kunai slipping from his grasp as it clanked against the floor.
You couldn’t help it; you laughed.
Kakashi startled, eye’s flickering to you in a panic.
“Y-you’re home!” He stuttered out. “You’re early! I thought you’d be another hour or so… I was just…” He looked helplessly around the disastrous kitchen. “Just trying to make you dinner.” Kakashi sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head, disappointed with himself.
When you laughed again, he peeked one eye open, shooting a small glare in your direction. “I’m so glad you’re taking pleasure in my suffering…” He muttered dramatically.
Rolling your eyes, you sauntered over to Kakashi, throwing your arms around his neck as you grinned up at him. “You know, I’m a little relieved,” you teased him with a smile. “I thought that you were good at *everything. It’s nice to know you have your flaws, too.”
Behind his mask, you could practically see Kakashi’s pout.
Placing a kiss on his cheek, you pulled back to survey the damage. “I’m sorry; I have to ask… I know pomegranates are messy, but what the hell happened here?”
With a groan, Kakashi shook his head, finally moving to grab a rag. “I… I played fruit ninja with the pomegranate.”
“You… what?”
“I played fruit ninja. With the pomegranate.”
“What does that mean?”
“I threw the pomegranate.”
“You threw the pomegranate?”
“I threw the pomegranate. Then I sliced it.”
“With your kunai?”
“With my kunai.”
“You threw the pomegranate and then you sliced it with your kunai?”
“That’s correct.”
You once again burst into laughter. You couldn’t help it! The whole idea was so ridiculous and especially coming from Kakashi.
He groaned again before you wrapped your arms around him. Reluctantly, he returned the gesture. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever tried to do for me.” You giggled. “Now… Can you teach me how to play?”
And so that’s how the rest of your night went. It wasn’t the way Kakashi had planned for the night to go, but it was one to remember just the same. Instead of a romantic dinner and relaxing bath, the two of you made an even bigger mess in the kitchen, slicing all the fruit you could manage.
You did your best to teach Kakashi to slice and season food with a regular knife. Boiling the water was about the only thing he *didn’t mess up, but it was endearing.
Later, bellies full, laying in bed, leaving the kitchen to be cleaned tomorrow, you cuddled comfortably into Kakashi’s side, placing light kisses on his shoulder as you drifted off to sleep. Kakashi held you tightly in his arms, content. He was a capable shinobi, a legend in his own right. His accomplishments listed on and on. He couldn’t cook for shit, but he made up for it by loving you.
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kreidewaltz · 4 years ago
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skyblue + thorns + tsukishima <3 congrats sm on 200 luv ily
COTTAGECORE DREAM | T.K.
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about. he knows you're exhausted from all the work you're doing. he decided to bring you to a flower field and he thought he might fall in love all over again.
word count. 1.6k
genre & warnings. fluff, timeskip, comedy, established relationship, mentions of overworking, teeny tiny suggestive.
author's note. i was abt to make this angst but changed the last minute >< sorry for getting to this vv late pls enjoy this bc he's done w all the angst we're giving him he says <3 not prfr as usual okay
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“be careful, dumbass.” he expected you to frown at his choice of words, instead you give him a wide smile before doing dances in the middle of the flower field. he pushes his glasses up to his nose to distract himself since he hears the wild beating of his heart. a gasp leaves your lips when your hand touches the different kinds of flowers and you get enchanted when you look at them closely. the azaleas are your favorite because of the bright color it brings to the field and it blends in beautifully. when your boyfriend mentions you’re going here, the hitachi seaside park, it felt like the worries and problems stacking up in your life disappeared for a moment.
you grabbed your blue instax camera and took pictures of the flowers dancing with the wind and took a picture of your boyfriend under the bright sun. you move the polaroid for a few minutes before hiding it in your tote bag before running through the field and imagine as if you were on a music video. he shoved his hands in his pockets, watching you get exhilarated with a smile dancing on his lips. he trails behind you and glance at the tulips few meters from him. he thinks of picking it but he didn't want to cause worry in the field that's suppose to distract you from work. he recalls the trouble he's forced to go through with you since you became a little reckless but he has no regrets, he's done those things with you after all.
"kei! come here!" you wave your hands while he chuckles to himself before taking large strides towards you. you loop your arms together, walking around the field which looks amazing when you're in it. we should come here again, you noted. 
a part of you is relieved that he thought of going here with you to unwind from everything. you recall the time he carried you in bridal style and covered you with blankets, with that you learned that you have no one to blame but yourself. his preposition began when you keep doing that one thing he tells you not to—overworking then excuse it as a way to be productive.
-
he wasn’t supposed to find you like this.
he wasn’t supposed to see papers and pens scattered around your desk, the cup of coffee in your coaster that he never saw empty in the time he checked up on you. “kei, ten minutes!” you pleaded with a pout on your lips and look at him, your voice laced with desperation because you really needed to finish this email tonight or as your friend quotes, you’re damned. you rub your hands together and shut your eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t protest or flick you in the forehead. your boyfriend sighs in defeat before going back to your shared bedroom, a joyful aura surrounding your face when he didn’t react violently. 
your co-worker messaged you earlier asking about the client’s response about the presentation he did a few days prior. he spams you with messages asking why it is taking so long to hear about the response and while you’re typing, you remembered your conversation with him last friday. you were supposed to email the client and provide him basic information about the presentation and add the link so he can thoroughly look at it. for once, oikawa wasn’t the irresponsible one between the two of you and you swear he’s not going to let you forget about this. damn oikawa, you curse in your head before stretching your arms.
you shoot him a text saying i’ll send it tonight and add emoticons even though it contradicts on what you’re feeling right now. you went through your emails and drafted what you wanted to say, the link, and double checked if there are grammatical mistakes and whatnot. when you’re sending an email to a client without checking the message and the information, it lacks decency and poor time management, that’s what you tell yourself. 
luckily when you overwork you don’t do it for weeks but you force your work and deadlines on a day. when he heard you saying this, you hear his caring boyfriend scolding as you call it and flicks your forehead with a frown on his face but you got a glimpse of his lips twitching afterwards. while you’re mentally panicking on how to finish the email that reaches your standards, tsukishima is laying down, staring at the ceiling with his hand running on the (your) empty side of the bed, looking for your warmth. he misses your gentle touch when you draw miscellaneous shapes on his back.
he hopes you get yourself together and actually takes care of you but he doubts you’ll do that, you’re stubborn and prioritize work over yourself. he slowly sits up and grabs a pillow to put in between his legs before opening his phone, thinking of what to say that’ll get you out of your desk. he tries to remember an activity or a place that you’ve mentioned because he misses seeing you being happy without worrying about deadlines or your co-workers. after looking around the room he sees the tulips he gave a month ago, looking bright and healthy since you insisted on not letting the flowers die. ah i’ve got it she’ll like this, he thought of a place he knows you’ll enjoy and begins to search on his phone, knowing he’s got you wrapped around his finger.
-
“hey, c’mere for a second.” your boyfriend rests his hands around your shoulders while you hum, your eyes going back and forth to your laptop and the papers around your desk. he knows you wouldn’t budge so he propped his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his long arms around you. “don’t be a brat.” he whispers too close to your ear which makes you pause on typing and look away because now you’re only thinking about how close he is and the way his voice gets low. 
“consider this as your break, you dork.” he lightly flick your forehead before leading you to the room and the way his face turned to a serious one after locking the door raised suspicions in your head. he grabs the wooden stool and sat there while you’re on the edge of the bed, wanting to know his intentions for locking the two of you. “i’m thinking of going out tomorrow,” he started off gently, and right now he waits for your—
“what about my work?” 
“ah ah, stop talking about work, idiot.” he effectively shuts you up when he rests his finger above your lips and when your shoulders slump and let out a sigh, he knows he’s got your full attention. he pushes his glasses up to his nose to focus himself and clears his throat to continue. he’s getting distracted with the way you look adorable with lounge wear.
“we’ll go to the hitachi seaside park, to get your mind off work and stuff…” you couldn’t hide your enthusiasm and squeal repeatedly while moving your feet around the air. the fondness you have for him never decreases but it grew more and more, but you don’t mind at all. your first reaction was to jump at him and wrap your arms around him but seeing the stool he’s sitting on, you didn’t want to risk having injuries. he remembered, you thought while he looks to the side and act nonchalant about it, but the faint redness to his ears going to his neck failed his cover. you opted to grab the dinosaur plush sitting quietly on the bed and lightly hit him with it, convincing him to let loose. the two of you made eye contact and mouthed thanks and your eyes full of sincerity is more than enough for him. he holds your hand and gives it two squeezes, his way of saying no problem, i got you. 
-
and we ended up here. 
“babe, i know i’m great and i’m flattered but,” you couldn’t continue to talk as laughter bubbles up your chest and clutch your stomach to laugh out loud. he looks like a long stick a few meters away and you walk back to him, twirling so your dress can spin gracefully. he quickly looks at you when he realized what he did, one is stare at you for too long, and two he got caught. you bat your eyelashes to tease him while he curses under his breath. 
you take a quick glance at your bag to see if the polaroid showed the picture already and your mouth parted seeing the result. the picture looks ethereal, the left side too bright because of the sun, the colors of nature and your boyfriend tying everything together. after hiding it in your bag, you offer your hand. 
“let’s go! don’t leave me there.” a pout coming to your lips before intertwining your fingers together and walking around the field in silence. this is what he needed after the games he had, a day to indulge in whatever he wanted, what you wanted. earlier, you're on your favorite restaurant and got a box of desserts to enjoy when you got home. you’re pulling him where the narcissuses flowers are gathered. 
“mhm, hey give me your camera.” you hum to his question, completely focused on the narcissuses. he presses the button beside the camera and tries to find the angle he’s looking for, he also wears the strap to prevent it from falling. it’s his gift to you in the first place. he takes a few steps to the side and angles the camera to his chest and when he takes a look at it, he wants that scene imprinted on his memory forever. your hands almost cupping the white petals, and pretend to blow it and giggles slip from your lips, thinking you look hilarious. the sky behind you creates a happy yet calming atmosphere to the picture, and there’s one thing left to do—
click. 
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estrel · 4 years ago
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Catalysts & Changes: a 15x16 Meta
I wanted to talk really quickly about Dean’s change this season, especially regarding 15x16.
My main focus of this meta is to talk about Mary’s impact on Dean being the catalyst for this change we’ve been seeing, but I’m also going to be mentioning some Cas/destiel things to tie into this. So, here we go:
I. Mary as Catalyst & Myth
Mary is Dean’s reason. By that I mean that literally the whole reason Dean hunts--or, rather, continues to hunt, since John honestly forced it on him--was all in the hopes of catching what killed Mary. That was the main purpose of season 1, other than finding John. This is Dean’s motivation, his basis as a character. 
Dean has also mentioned on multiple occasions that Mary was why he was brave, why he kept fighting, and that he often thought about her. 
Dean: I was scared, too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom...I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day (1.03 Dead in the Water)
Remember this quote, because I think it’s eerily similar to the one in 15.16 that I’ll talk about later in this post.
This makes sense--she’s his mom, he should be affected in some way about her death. But Dean takes it to the extreme, based his life around it, held on to it for far too long. Sam was different, because he never actually knew Mary, and we know from earlier seasons that their feelings about her are pretty different. 
Meanwhile, almost any time Dean has dreamt of something ideal, Mary was there (think of his djinn dream in 2.20 where Mary never died, and in heaven in 5.16). We can especially see that this is true because of what Amara said in Gimme Shelter:
Dean: What was the point?
Amara: I wanted two things for you, Dean. I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person. That the myth you’d held onto for so long of a better life, a life where she’d lived, was just that: a myth. I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary, was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life. (15.15 Gimme Shelter)
Here, Amara was anticipating a turning point. She had wanted Dean to be “released” by having Mary back, but obviously this didn’t happen. Instead, Mary’s death was once again the catalyst for Dean’s change, just like it was the first time when Azazel killed her. We can also see from this that Dean has always been stuck in the past, hence Amara telling him that he should be focusing on now, instead. Another thing to note for future reference is the “real” line. Remember Cas saying “we are” when Dean asks him what is real.
Mary was also not exactly what Sam or Dean--hell, not even the viewers--had been expecting when she returned. She was scared, alone, and had trouble dealing with being back in a new century with her little boys all grown up and even worse-- hunting. But Dean eventually accepted this. He accepted the real version of Mary, but continued to idolize her and bring up the past.
II. Mary’s Death
Now let’s take a look at what’s happened since Mary’s second death:
Denial. Dean hopes Mary isn’t actually dead, even though all signs point to this.
Grief. Dean cries alone at the site of her death.
Blame. Dean blames Jack and Cas for what happened. 
During and after the funeral, Dean avoids talking about it with anyone. However, he is obviously affected by her death. Sam even holds Cas back from going to Dean while burning the pyre. Bobby makes a comment about Dean being a lot like him and not wanting to show his feelings to others.
These all sound like the Dean that’s been built up since season 1. Not dealing with his feelings properly at all, pushing people away, denial. The one thing that makes this time different from other deaths, though, is that--just like the first time Mary died--there's no body to bring back. It's implied in 14.19 that if there had been, Dean would have tried, because he even tells Sam:
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Note: This is also an episode where we see Jack being a mirror for Dean by doing exactly that--doing everything in his power to try to bring Mary back by himself. It doesn’t work; Mary’s gone for good. And she’s happy--she’s in heaven! 
In addition to there not being a body, Dean also knows who did it. It's not some unidentifiable yellow-eyed demon that he can spend years tracking down, it's Jack. It's his son, it's someone he can't and won't kill, because he's family, even if he’s guilty. So Dean has no outlet for his rage except to put blame on not only Jack, but Cas (specifically in 15.03 The Rupture, Jack is dead at this point and he pushes Cas away for several episodes). And here is where Dean begins to change.
III. The Shift: Anger, Apologies, and Forgiveness
Because then, in 15.09 The Trap, there is a big, significant shift. Dean forgives Cas:
Dean: You’re my best friend, but I just let you go. ‘Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong. 
He cries, looks around, and gets on his knees.
Dean: I don’t know why I get so angry. I just know-I just know that it’s just always been there. And when things go bad, it just-it comes out. And I can’t- I can’t stop it. No matter how--how bad I want to, I just can’t stop it. And I forgive you, of course I forgive you. I’m sorry it took me so long to...I’m sorry it took me ‘til now to say it.  (15.09 The Trap)
This is an incredibly important scene because it shows that Dean knows about his anger--the anger that Amara talks about in 15x15, and he wants to stop it. 
Amara: I thought having [Mary] back would release you...put that fire out. Your anger. But I guess we both know I failed at that.
Dean: You’re damn right.  (15.15 Gimme Shelter)
After this, Dean clarifies that he’s not only angry, but furious. This is change, this is change caused directly by Mary’s death--by Amara bringing her back again. Dean might say he is furious, but he has also said before that he wants to stop his anger. And, in many ways, he’s been taking steps towards doing that: 
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For example, here in 15.09 when Dean forgives Cas, (gif credit)
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and here in 15.14 when he tells Jack he’s trying to forgive him for killing Mary, (gif credit)
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and again in 15.16 for not telling Sam and Caitlin about the dead bodies when they were younger (gif credit)
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and most recently, at the end of 15.16, when he didn’t tell Sam about Jack dying. (gif credit)
So now we’ve taken the turn towards forgiveness. Dean has been handing out apologies and forgiveness like never before this season, which is a definite change to how it used to be with him. He’s opening up, and he is trying to do better and be better than before. Billie also tells him this at the diner:
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(gif credit)
I’m inclined here to believe that Dean is on that road to forgiveness with Jack. I mean, he said it himself in 15.14 that he’s trying, and Cas also vouched for him when Jack asked if forgiveness from Dean was a possibility. So in 15.16, when Dean says they have “no choice” but to let Jack die, it’s not because it doesn’t haunt him. It clearly does, with the entire episode dealing with Dean coping with the deaths of children, even his brother. He doesn’t want Jack to die, but his anger, his fury towards Chuck is taking precedence over that. It’s something he wants to change, but feels like he has no choice in the matter.
To add on to this, Jack has been a clear mirror for Dean this entire season. Dean’s argument with Sam about them having no choice is an indication of this. Just an episode prior in 15.15, Jack told Cas that the choice wasn’t his whether or not Jack died. So the pair ups in 15.17 aren’t all that surprising. With the episode being titled “Unity,” I think that the four of them will reach an agreement by the end of the episode (I keep mentioning agreements in all of my metas, because I think Chuck/Amara and Sam/Eileen’s agreement had important implications, but alas...), and be unified in a new plan to defeat Chuck. 
As for Dean? I don’t think his ending is going to be expected. He is changing--he won’t be making the same decisions he used to make in earlier seasons. 
I also find it fascinating that they made 15.16 a flashback episode to their past as children. Not only did 15.16 show us Dean being annoyed by sex, ignoring a possible love interest (which we were right as an audience to assume it would be written that way, because it has been so many times before), and how he’s dealing with the prospect of Jack’s death (with all of the imagery of dead children), but it really brought to light how much Dean has changed. 
The most obvious way they showed us this was through this scene with Caitlin (who looks eerily like a young Mary...interesting), who says this:
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(gif credit)
Dean: Always am.
Caitlin: You have changed. The old you never would have admitted that.
Dean: Well, I’m not sure that’s a good thing.
Caitlin: I think so. What do they say about getting older? You tell the truth more because lies...they don’t make anything better. (15.16 Drag Me Away (From You)) 
Now, ignoring the fact that Dean has admitted this (in 1.03), we know that the only time he has admitted to being scared before was in relation to Mary. But I think what the writers were going for here was not only to highlight Dean’s recent character growth by admitting to Caitlin that he’s changed, but also the running theme of lying this season. I’ve said it before that Sam has been the only one telling the truth in s15, and I think it’ll eventually come into play during the final episodes. The truth/lies aspect will become a central plot point--I mean, it already is. But I think it’ll factor into how the show will end as a whole, especially with this episode and previous ones alluding to normalcy and the possibility of it for Sam. 
I’m going to finish this here, because I’ve dragged on too long, but some other (destiel) things to note are:
Dean falling to his knees in the hallway as a parallel to falling on his knees in Purgatory, praying to Cas, apologizing.
Dean cutting off Baba Yaga’s fingers, whereas Cas restored a woman’s fingers in 15x15. The pastor telling Cas that people are god’s hands; they lift each other up with each finger. The implications of Dean cutting people off, and Cas bringing people together.
another amazing meta regarding 15.16 and another about dean changing + 15.16
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thoughtsaboutshows · 4 years ago
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A Different WIP Wednesday: Behind Closed Doors
This isn’t exactly a WIP but it is a completed scene from an abandoned (for now) collection of Nabrina missing/extended scenes from the show.  This one is from the end of Part 2! 
The dress was uncomfortable.  It was beautiful and while she didn’t mind a collar or a plunging neckline, the gold threaded dress she was currently wearing was itchy.  And the fact that Lucifer had picked it out for her made her want to rip it off even more.  She knew she couldn’t though, the literal world was depending on her to pull this off. 
So she slipped on the gold shoes as well and played with the mask, contemplating waiting to put it on until she got there.   They were all waiting for her downstairs and she knew Lucifer was waiting for her too at the Academy.  She could picture his smug smile while sitting atop his throne of skulls, believing he’d won.  But he hadn’t, not yet at least.  
She’d attempted a Hail Malphus pass in trying to stop her Aunt’s wedding.  She and Nick had worn another glamour and it had gotten them both expelled.  But this was even more of a risk, more of a last ditch effort to keep Satan himself from destroying the Earth.  From keeping herself from becoming the Queen at his side, and his child bride?  Her stomach churned at the thought.  His face had been dripping with victory when she’d tried to defeat him at the stone altar.  Heaven, his bragging eyes had even been present when she showed up at Dorian’s and he revealed his master plan.  He’d nearly jumped with glee when Nick appeared from behind the curtain, finding joy in the tears that were running down both their cheeks and enjoying that their relationship was in ruins.  In Lucifer’s mind, it was one less tie his daughter had to the world she loved so much.
Nick hadn’t given up there though, showing up in her room hours later begging for forgiveness, for her to see his love for her had been true despite what the Dark Lord had tasked him to do.  
Fix the Acheron and maybe I won’t hate you for the rest of my life. 
That’s what she had said to him.  But it couldn’t have been farther from the truth.  Hate him?  She couldn’t.  That’s why his betrayal had hurt so much.  It had cut a deep gash in her heart that he had mended after her breakup with Harvey.  It had made her question everything since he’d sat with her at lunch, which Nick claimed he’d done out of his own volition and sheer awestruck reaction to seeing her for the first time.  She wanted to believe that, and she guessed a part of her did or she wouldn’t have let him help.  Her trust in him was shaky at best.  She was unwilling to allow him to be the one to help her zip up that uncomfortable dress or clasp her shoes.  But she could trust that he was smart, and a damn good warlock.  So she handed over the Acheron and sent him away to work on it.  
He’d taken it in stride, accepted it as the tiniest of olive branches.  If he couldn’t hold her hand at least he could work on something to hold the Dark Lord.  He found a quiet room in the Mortuary and went to work immediately, putting all he had into it.  His heart had plummeted into his stomach, making him nearly lose his lunch when the Dark Lord told Sabrina of his plans.  It was nothing he’d expected, and thought his devotion had to do with guiding a wayward witch to sign the book of the beast.  Now he knew he played a role in the end of the world.  He didn’t care much about that, meaning what he said to Sabrina in her kitchen.  He only cared about her and it was Lucifer’s statements about her ruling by his side that had Nick fuming the most.  That’s what had kept him working furiously on the Acheron, hands shaking and mind racing as he said all of his spells.  
As the time drew nearer, and really it wasn’t enough time but it had to do, they all met in the Mortuary foyer before walking over to the Academy.  Sabrina was in her gold dress and everyone else wore their demon glamours; it would be quite the show.  Nick kept his distance from her, his entire focus trained on the Acheron still in his hands as he continued to mutter spells despite the fact that they were nearly leaving.  She took note of how he looked at it, eyes almost begging for it to work.  His entire face was furrowed in concentration, but it wasn’t the cute kind she’d admired when he’d perch on her bed studying or they’d research in the Sanctum.  Back then she could swoop in and kiss his lips or his jaw and it’d draw a chuckle from him and he’d be willing to take a break.  This concentration was desperate, and Sabrina knew without a doubt that desperation was for her.  
She also knew that she could try and kiss him all she wanted, and he’d still be working on that damn Acheron.  Because that is what would save them all.
Save her.
Still her feet that wore the uncomfortable heels couldn’t move in her uncomfortable dress to go to him.  It seemed too big a task in that moment, like facing down Nick was scarier than facing down the Dark Lord.  
Yet when they finally started the journey to the Academy, her mask in hand because she couldn’t bring herself to add another uncomfortable gold item to her outfit just yet.  She found her gazes darting to him and her footfalls falling into step with his.  Even when it seemed they were miles apart, they were in sync.  He caught her looking nearly every time, having stolen some looks of his own.  He could sense she was a little scared, his fearless girl.  
Except she wasn’t his anymore, he’d lost her.  She didn’t lose him though, she never would.  He’d tied himself to her long before Lucifer came calling.  She didn’t believe that right now but that didn’t really matter.  All that mattered to Nick was that she got through this, that she wasn’t forced into a role she didn’t want and that she survived.  And if his tie to her tethered him to a sinking ship or disaster, he’d hold on tight because it’d be worth it.  Because she’d be above the surface breathing another day.  
Her heart tugged to walk by him, take the Acheron out of his shaking hand and so it could hold hers instead.  But her head kept her in between her Aunts with her eyes forward, avoiding his dark eyes for the rest of the trip.  She knew how easily she got lost in them.  
Her eyes stayed ahead but her thoughts continued to drift to him.  She kicked herself for using the time she should be preparing to dwell on her boyfriend, her ex-boyfriend?  She wasn’t sure what they were anymore, but what she did know was that the story of them wouldn’t stop replaying in her mind.  She begged and prayed anyone left out there that it wasn’t all a lie.  She didn’t think it was even possible to fake the glint he’d had in his eye when he asked her to the Valentine’s Dance.  Or how his smile emphasized the curl of his tongue against hers when he’d kissed her properly for the first time.  Not that their stage kiss hadn’t felt real all on its own.  She hoped that he’d meant it when he toasted to her future as a High Priestess of the Church of Night.  And they hadn’t spoken of it, but what business would he have had lying to his familiar when he yelled out that he loved her, trying to get Amalia to spare Sabrina.  The same broken pleading was in his voice when he kneeled in front of her and told her he really did fall in love with her.  
And in return she spat in his face.  
It seemed deserved at the time, and it might have been.  But as her footsteps brought her closer to the Academy, she’d wished she’d have told him she loved him too, thrown the Dark Lord’s devotion right back in his face with a grab of Nick’s hand.  
Because she was pretty sure she had fallen in love with him right back.  
Nobody wasted any time when they climbed the steps to the Academy.  Zelda led the charge in search of Lilith and next steps.  Nick passed the Acheron to Ambrose as he walked by, shooting it one last inspecting look.  
Nick and Sabrina somehow found themselves alone on the steps in the back of the line, and he stopped her from going in with two gentle fingers on her arm.  If she was surprised she didn’t show it.  In fact, she looked almost relieved he had done it.  
“Sabrina.”  Nick started.  His voice sounded like gravel, rough and painful.  He reached out and his fingertips grazed the gold fabric of her dress.  She let him do it, which surprised both of them.  “I know this is all messed up and I hate the reason we’re all here...but you look beautiful.”  
“Thank you, Nick.”  She answered him, using his shortened name.  It made him visibly calmer, though being alone with her right now still made him nervous.  He couldn’t help commenting on her beauty.  He should have told her more just how stunning he found her, more exquisite than anyone else he’d ever seen.  So just in case, he’d told her now.    
“I’m so sorry, Sabrina.”  Nick apologized as he changed the subject.  He couldn’t help apologizing one last time either.  He hadn’t known what he was going to say when he stopped her, and the pressure of it all had obviously turned his brain to mush.  In reality there was nothing to say, he just wanted to be by her one last time.
She squeezed her eyes shut to try to keep the tears at bay.  She didn’t think they could really haven’t this conversation now, despite not wanting to go into this with things left unsaid.  She took a deep breath when he struggled to find more words.  She grabbed the hand that was playing with her dress and intertwined their fingers.  His hands were warm and soft, just as she’d remembered.  
“Nick…”. She said his name again and took a step closer.  They were outside in the open but somehow it had felt like the air had been sucked away.  The only life giving source left was each other and it seemed nothing could tear their eyes apart.  She saw the worry in his, muddled with something else she could only describe as love.  She figured hers looked the same and she cursed Lucifer all over again for playing with both of their hearts.  She leaned in a little bit more, and he memorized the scent of her, just in case.  As she breathed him in she thought she might have kissed him, might have folded herself in his arms, or at least told him she’d forgiven him.  
But she didn’t do any of those things because Lilith slammed the door open and demanded Sabrina come with her.  They couldn’t keep the Dark Lord waiting any longer.  
With one more lingering and longing look Nick gave a supportive nod.
“We’ll talk after?”  He asked with hope and lifted his and to gently graze her cheek.  She leaned into it slightly and nodded quickly in response.  With a deep breath he went inside the door and looked back at her once before disappearing down a hallway in search of the others.  
Lilith rolled her eyes and dragged Sabrina inside, giving her one last recap as to the plan as Sabrina out on her mask.  Sabrina had the plan down and was filled with a hopefully well placed confidence that this would all work.  The sooner they started the ruse the sooner the dress could come off and her comfy PJ’s could go on.  The sooner she could she have a real conversation with Nick.  One without the end of the world looming or hiding behind curtains.  
She couldn’t wait until she could. 
Because she wasn’t pretty sure anymore.
She loved him.
And when this was all over, when the Dark Lord was trapped in the Acheron, she’d tell him.
But she’d be too late. 
17 notes · View notes
calpalirwin · 4 years ago
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Hush, Hush
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Request: Could you please write a Michael x Reader based on the song Hush Hush by The Band CAMINO? Where they have a secret relationship. Maybe include a scene where the guys find out because read accidentally LEFT THEIR FRIGGIN UNDERWEAR
Content: Heavily implied smut
Word Count: 3.6k
And away, and away we go!
__
Y/N spotted Calum easily as he tried to look as inconspicuous as possible in a plain black t-shirt, blue jeans, a hat covering his head of curls, and sunglasses pushed up on his face. “Hey, you! How was your flight?” he greeted as he wrapped his cousin in a hug.
“Long, but worth it to be here,” she grinned, returning the embrace with the same amount of warmth as the bright LA sun outside. “You fuckin’ take a page from the Avengers? You know this disguise is shit, right?”
“If I learned one thing from all the covid nonsense, it’s actually that this shit disguise works surprisingly well.”
“In covid we covered the lower half of our faces, ya dingus.”
“Works the same either way. Half the face covered is half the face covered. You check any bags?”
“Nah, I crammed as much shit as I could in my carry on and backpack.”
“Sweet, let’s roll.”
“So, you like living here in LA?” she asked as they made their way to his car.
“Yeah. Kinda hard not to. Nice weather. Good people. So, I know you’re here to look at houses and stuff, but Mum didn’t explain to me why you’re moving here. She was just like ‘pick up your cousin from the airport and be good’ like I was just gonna leave you to fend for yourself or some shit.”
Y/N laughed. “While I definitely appreciate you picking me up, and letting me stay with you this week, I’ll kick your ass if you start babying me. You may be taller, but I’m still older than you.”
Calum laughed along. “That’s what I told Mum but, she wouldn’t listen. I was like Y/N’s a big girl, she doesn’t need a chaperone.”
“That’s Aunt Joy for ya though. She misses you. We all do. Well except me, of course.”
Calum snorted as he clicked the unlock button on his car. “Yeah, I miss everyone but you too, so I guess we’re even. But what was it that sent you here?”
“Job relocation. Well… sort of.”
“What do you mean sort of?” he asked as he placed her suitcase in the backseat, the backpack following. 
“So I’ve been doing a lot more freelance work since my job’s been fucking me around since day one. And I finally said fuck it, I’m gonna make my own business. So while I’m here to look at apartments and shit, I’m also here to scout out business locations looking to rent out space.”
“Well shit, why didn’t you tell me before now?” he asked as they got in the front seat. “Moving’s expensive. Starting your own business is expensive. Living here is expensive. Doing all that shit at once? Geez, you a secret millionaire?”
“You’re not the only successful one, Cal. I make good money.”
“You know I don’t mean it like that. I just meant that you could’ve told me what was really going on. So that way I could’ve put you in contact with Andy and Sarah already, cuz they probably know some people who can help you out. Hell you can help them out by freelancing for them. They work too damn hard, they could definitely use the extra help. Plus you’re fuckin good at what you do. And I could’ve also told you that you don’t need to bother looking for a place cuz you could just stay with me.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Cal. I wanna do this on my own.”
“I’m not saying you gotta live with me forever, Y/N. I’m just saying you can while you focus all your energy and resources on what really matters which is getting your business up and running. Plus, I know you’re gonna pick like the most cheapass, run-down studio apartment anyway because you’re gonna justify it by saying you’re just there to sleep anyway. So why spend any money on some shitty apartment when you can just stay at my nice, nonshitty house for free instead? I mean, you’re only there to sleep basically right?”
Y/N’s eyes narrowed. She hated that he knew her so well. “There’s no way you’re letting this go until I agree to move in with you, is there?”
“Not a one.”
“Fine. But only until I get my business off the ground. Once that’s up and running, I’m getting my own place.”
“A decent place,” Calum pushed.
“A decent place,” she agreed with an eye roll. “I’ll even splurge for an actual bedroom.”
“You got yourself a deal.”
“You got yourself a roommate.”
~~~
Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off Y/N. He knew he wasn’t supposed to stare. A.) Staring was rude, and he wasn’t a rude person. And B.) Calum was his best and longest friend, and Y/N was his cousin which made her inexplicably off-limits. But there was something so tempting about wanting someone you knew you couldn’t have. And it didn’t help matters that every time he caught himself looking her way, she was already watching him.
“I’m Michael,” he introduced stupidly when they both ended up in Calum’s kitchen by themselves. 
“I know,” she grinned. “We already did introductions, remember?”
His cheeks flushed pink, and one of his hands rubbed at the back of his neck. “Right. Yeah. H-how long did you say you’re staying with Cal for?”
“Well originally I was only gonna be here for a week while I sorted things out. But Cal’s… strong-willed about things. So I’m staying with him indefinitely while I get sorted instead.”
“Mmm, right. With your new business and everything. So you’ll be around quite a bit, huh?”
“Loads,” she nodded with a flirtatious smile. “And I’ll probably be lonely. I don’t really know anyone here besides Cal. His friends seem nice though. And one of them’s really cute.”
Michael breathed deeply, and even from the small distance between them she could feel his hot exhale on her skin. “We can’t,” he sighed in defeat.
“Says who?”
“Says like every bro code.”
“Are you saying you don’t want this as badly as I do?”
“Want it so bad,” Michael admitted, his voice a low whimper. His green eyes looked around. While nobody from outside was peering in, they were still in everyone’s line of sight if someone happened to glance their way. Which meant that they only had two options, neither of which led to what they really wanted which was to slink away from the party without raising suspicion. “But we can’t. Not now, anyway. Not here.”
“Right. I don’t want to make anything weird between you and Cal. Or between me and him. And we don’t even know what we are. Maybe this is just an infatuation that’ll run its course if we don’t play into it.”
“Maybe it’s not,” Michael countered. “God, I hope it’s not, cuz I really want to play into this.”
“Me too. God, I hope you’re right.”
“Hope he’s right about what?” Calum asked, as he came in through the sliding glass door. 
“Uh, my business!” she blurted. “Mike was just telling me that he thinks it’s gonna do really well here cuz I’ll be able to get more connections with your help and stuff.”
Calum hummed in response. “Mike’s right ya know. Like you already did the scary part of moving out here. The rest is just doing your job. Which you already know how to do, and you do it very well I might add.”
Michael let out the breath he’d been holding as Calum disappeared off to the bathroom. “Fuck, that was close. You think pretty good on your feet.”
Y/N chuckled nervously. “Thanks. God, he scared the shit out of me, and we weren’t even doing anything.”
“Backing out?” Michael asked with a twinge of a challenge to mask the underlying brace for rejection.
“We’re fucked if we get caught.”
“So fucked.”
“Guess we better not get caught then.”
Michael grinned.
~~~
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She smirked at the message. A painful month of sneaking behind her cousin’s back, and she only wanted the man with wild trouble in those piercing green eyes more with each hidden touch. Needed him the same way Michael needed her. From the doorway, Calum wolf-whistled at the outfit lying on the bed: a slinky black dress with a slit in the thigh, and a matching black lace bra and panty set. “Going somewhere?” he questioned in amusement.
“Yes!” Y/N said with indignation. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Calum chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. It’s good that you’re going out. You going out with friends, or a guy?”
“Friends,” she lied.
“That’s a hell of a dress for a girls’ night out,” he chuckled again. “You could tell me if it was a guy, ya know. We’re not little kids. I’m not gonna be shocked if you’re getting laid. Be a little worried if you weren’t in all honesty.”
She bit into her lower lip, wondering briefly if it was better to come clean now. Y/N decided on half-admittance. “Alright, it’s a guy. But we’re still in that figuring it out stage. Enjoying each other’s company.”
“Yeah, I bet you are,” Calum smirked.
“Shut up,” she laughed. “And get out so I can finish getting ready.”
“He picking you up?”
She shook her head. “No, we’re meeting up at the bar.”
“So, you’re driving?”
“Relax, spazz. I’m taking an Uber. No drinking and driving here.”
“Good. And hey, do me one small favor?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Go back to his place. Don’t bring him here. Rather spare myself the mental image.”
“I wouldn’t dream of bringing him here, you’re good.”
“Good, good. And hey, if he ends up not enjoying your time anymore A.) he’s an idiot, especially if you’re meeting him dressed in that. And B.) Call me, and I’ll come get ya. No matter the time.”
“Thanks, Cal. Now seriously leave.”
20 minutes after Michael asked to meet in 15 minutes, she was climbing into his car. “Geez, what took you so long?” he questioned, leaning across the seat to press a heated and bruising kiss to Y/N’s lips.
“Cal walked by when I was getting ready. You know for the quiet one, he really doesn’t ever shut up.”
“Shit, think he’s getting suspicious?”
“Nah. I mean I told him I was sort of seeing somebody. But I don’t think he thinks it’s you.”
“Sort of seeing somebody, huh?” Under a passing streetlight, she could see the corner of his lips pull up in a smirk. “You can call me your boyfriend if you want.”
“Oh, is that what you are?” she teased.
Michael chuckled. “I mean not to be heavy, but we’ve been seeing each other a while now. I think this is becoming something more than passing infatuation. I’m not seeing anyone else besides you. I don’t want to see anyone besides you. But if you don’t want to label this because of Cal or whatever, I can respect that.”
“No, no,” she said, softly, fingers tracing across the thick tattooed band on his arm. “I’d like that. Plus, might make telling Cal easier? So we can stop sneaking around? Not that I haven’t loved this. But, I’d really like to not act like we don’t know each other around company.”
His hand brought hers to his lips to stamp kisses over it as he pulled into his driveway. “We’ll tell him soon. Until then, I’m gonna enjoy keeping you to myself.” His gaze turned to take her in, his next breath catching in his throat. “Fuck… Did I tell you how stunning you look, yet? Or was I too busy griping about Cal holding you up like an ass?”
Her cheeks blushed. “Too busy griping. But that’s okay.”
“I think I can think of a way or two to make it up to you.”
“Oh, is that so? Do tell.”
“I think showing you might be more appropriate.”
She shuddered at his words. “Humor me anyway?”
“Let’s just say if my neighbors don’t know me already, they certainly will by tomorrow, because I am going to thoroughly enjoy familiarizing myself with every inch of your skin. And listening to how good my name sounds rolling off your tongue, and how good yours tastes on mine.”
How they managed to make their way inside the house was a mystery to them both as hands tangled in hair, and tongues explored mouths and the column of the other’s throat. Teeth nipped skin, as Y/N’s fell back onto the couch, and Michael marked a path down her body. “Pretty,” his voice taunted from underneath the skirt of her dress as he snapped the waistband of her panties, before pulling them down and off her legs, spitting the lace fabric out of his mouth.
“M-Mike,” she panted, her back arching, searching for him.
“Aw,” he taunted more, his face inches from hers. “You can do better than that. C’mon, I’m sure I got a few neighbors who don’t know who I am yet. Don’t you want to tell them my name, pretty girl?”
“Mike!” The repetition of his name was louder, the desperation in her voice stronger as her fingers wrapped around his wrist and guided him towards where she needed him.
As they surrendered themselves to each other, their names mingled together in the air like the most profanity-riddled melody, each of them certain that by the time daylight broke through the curtains, the neighborhood not only knew his name, but hers as well. 
~~~
Michael tiptoed around the clothes scattered on the floor as he made his way to the dresser, a wide smile plastered on his face. Their first bout that had shook the foundation of the house had led to them curled up on the couch, whispering the sweet promises of budding love against each other’s skin, before retiring to the bedroom. Which then led to a much slower love making of hot moans panted against heated skin, fingers intertwined, and locked gazes swirling with desire, love, lust, and passion. Afterwards exhaustion set in, and they fell asleep in a tangled web of limbs and bedsheets. 
He’d woken up, sure that this had all been a dream, but much to his delight, she was still sleeping soundly in his arms. And after waking her up, he was grabbing her some clothes to put on before joining her in the shower. Or he would have if someone wasn’t banging on his front door.
Confused, he made his way to the front of the house, pulling the front door open to find Ashton, Calum, and Luke on the other side. “See? I told you guys we should’ve waited until he responded,” Luke said with a shake of his head.
“Aw, who gives a shit?” Calum asked rhetorically, shouldering his way past a still confused Michael to get inside the house.
“Uh? What are you guys doing here?” Michael asked, stepping out of the way as Ashton and Luke followed Calum inside.
“Saturdays are for the boys, remember?” Ashton grinned.
“Yeah, but like… did we have actual plans? I- sorry… still waking up.”
“Long night?” Calum teased with a smirk.
“I’ll say,” Luke answered, blue eyes zeroed in on a pair of panties half-wedged between a couch cushion. “You got a girlfriend, Mikey?”
“Holy shit!” Ashton choked, giggling at the sight of Michael with his face frozen in terror. “Is she still here? Is that why you’re so jumpy, mate? Ya got your girlfriend hidden somewhere in your mini mansion?”
“I- What? Pffft, no!” Michael sputtered, grabbing the panties and balling them up in his fist, his green eyes looking wildly at Calum for any indication that his friend might be on to him.
Calum misinterpreted the look as a plea to step in on Michael’s defense. “Aw, leave him be guys. We should be celebrating that he’s finally getting back out there, not giving him shit for it. So when are we gonna meet the girl? When she comes back to claim her lost panties? Or should we leave to not embarrass the poor girl, and meet her some other time?”
“That,” Michael chimed in, “is a great idea, Cal. You guys should leave, because this is part of a matching set, so I’m sure she’ll be by the moment she realizes, and she’ll probably be embarrassed enough as is. So it might be best if you guys aren’t around when that happens. No offense.”
“Matching set?” Calum asked with a raised eyebrow and Michael gulped. “Damn, that girl knew what she was doing.”
The green-eyed blonde chuckled nervously. “Heh, yeah. She’s really cool. I like spending time with her. We’re still kinda figuring some stuff out, but I’ll be sure to bring her around s-”
“Hey, Mike? Have you seen my pa- oh fuck!”
“Y/N!” Calum thundered, jumping to his feet, while Ashton and Luke sucked in their breath and Michael and Y/N looked like a couple of deer trapped in headlights. “The guy you’re seeing is Mike?! You’re fucking my cousin?! And I’m finding this out now?! How long has this been happening?!”
“Maybe now’s not the time to ask questions,” Y/N hissed, trying to make herself as small as possible as she clutched the large towel around her like a lifeline.
“GET DRESSED!” Calum barked, his mind racing.
Michael and Y/N bolted to his bedroom, Ashton’s and Luke’s unrestrained laughter finally breaking free in the background while Calum screeched at them that “IT’S NOT FUNNY!”
“It’s a little funny,” was the barely audible response between wheezes and gasps for air.
Behind the closed door in the safety of the bedroom, Michael and Y/N shared a frantic look. “Well… that wasn’t the way I pictured that going in my head,” Y/N mumbled as she pulled the shirt Michael offered her on over her bra.
“Luke found your underwear,” he mumbled back, handing her the wadded up lace. “Sorry, I wrinkled it.”
“It’s fine,” she told him, stepping into them and then taking the offered gym shorts and stepping into those as well while he pulled on a pair of grey sweats over his boxers. “Hey,” she said softly, reaching up to cup his face and focus his frazzled mind on her. “We’re fine. Right?”
He gave her a small smile, relaxing at her touch. “We’re more than fine,” he nodded, kissing her forehead, each of her cheeks, her nose, and then finally her lips. “I still want you. And if Cal can’t deal with that… well… I…”
“Shh, don’t think about it. Cal’s not gonna care. Just gotta let the shock wear off, first.”
He nodded, his forehead resting against hers, green eyes searching for any kind of hope that they weren’t about to self-destruct; that if it really came down to it, they’d at least hesitate to choose Calum over the other. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek despite his best efforts at self control. “This is all my fault. I- I just need you to know that this wasn’t a fleeting moment of infatuation for me. That I-“
“Ssssshhhhh,” she soothed, her thumb rubbing across his cheekbone. “Don’t do this. Don’t say goodbye before we have to.”
They slowly crept their way back to the living room, finding Calum in full interrogation mode. “Did you two know?” he was asking Ashton and Luke, whose bodies were still shaking from barely controlled laughter.
“Hand to God, we didn’t know,” Ashton swore.
“Honest,” Luke agreed before both men sputtered into a new fit of giggles.
Calum’s eyes narrowed, not sure what to believe as he turned on his heel, coming face-to-face with Michael. “Did they know?” he demanded.
“No. Nobody knew,” Michael told him.
“So what? Are you embarrassed to be with her, or something? Are you embarrassed to be with him?” The brown eyes shifted back and forth between the couple.
“No,” it was Y/N’s turn to answer. “We just didn’t want to come to you guys with the news before we figured out what we were to each other first.”
“And what are you to each other?”
“We’re dating.”
“And how long has this been going on?”
“About a month.”
“So, the whole time? Great… You’re a real pal, Mike.”
“Oh, leave him alone,” Y/N defended. “Like you go blabbing to the world whenever you start to get to know someone? No. You wait until you’re sure it’s not just a fleeting moment. Gimme a break, Cal.”
“So… this is like… for real then? You actually like like each other, and shit?”
“We really do,” Michael nodded.
“I see… Hey, Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember what I told you last night about not bringing the guy you were seeing home because I’d rather not have that mental image?”
“Yeah. What about it? Change your mind?” she teased.
Calum gagged. “Fuckin’ God, no! If you’re gonna insist on fucking Mike, do it as far away from me as possible. Also if you want to move out sooner, totally fine with that.”
Michael blinked in confusion. “Wait? You’re cool with this? With us?”
Calum shrugged. “If you make each other happy, you make each other happy. Not my place to tell you who you can and can’t date. But,” Calum’s tone changed to be as menacing as possible as he glowered at Michael, “break her heart, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
“What if she breaks mine?” Michael countered.
Calum laughed. “Then I’ll help you pick up the pieces, while secretly wondering what she ever saw in you because let’s face it, she’s too good for you.”
“I’d be more offended if you weren’t totally right.”
__
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thewritingginger · 4 years ago
Text
Just Like Daddy!
I did a thing! I don’t know how inspiration struck me for this but it did and I thought it was really cute so I did it. 
So here is a cute little Halloween idea I thought of last night :3
Fandom: Obey Me!
Pairing: Satan x Reader
Warning(s): N/A, unless fluff is one then yes
Word count: 1555 words
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“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy!!!” He hears the excited cheers and the quick pitter patter of his daughter coming around the corner ready to jump into his arms. “Yes, my love.” He coos as he scoops her up. “Daddy, I want to do the Halloween!” she exclaims very proudly. “Really? What about it interests you?” He questions not quite sure where this came from. I mean sure she has known the concept of halloween in both the human world and devildom. But never in her 5 years of life has she shown this much enthusiasm over it. “The dress up, obviously!” her words punctuated with a sass she’s definitely gotten from her mother. Satan smiles a bit at his child’s actions, “What is it that you want to dress up as?” He asks curiously.
“Well, you!”
Her words earnest, as she gazes into her astonished father’s eyes. Beaming that smile that resembles the one he fell in love with years before her conception. “Me? Why?” He follows up, still stunted by his daughter’s words. “Because you’re the most awesomest and strongest daddy in the worlds!” She says whilst making dramatic motions with her arms, bringing a warm smile to Satan’s lips.
In the corner of his eye he spots you leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, admiring the scene before you. His attention is yet again brought back to your little halfling jumping in his lap. “So can I? Pleeeeease?” She pleads. With puppy eyes, the same hue as yours, staring up at him with hope. Looking up at you slightly he closes his eyes and sighs in defeat. “Yes, you can dress up as me if that's what you wish.” His confirming words bring a brilliant smile to your daughters face. Warming his heart, your eyes lock.
“Mommy!” Running up to you to share the news you had witnessed. “Did you hear, Daddy said I can dress up as him.” The happiness in her words makes you laugh a bit. “Yes baby I did hear. I guess we will need to start on your costume then.” “Yes and you too!” She exclaims. “You want me to dress up too?” You clarify. “Yes! And daddy too!” She adds pointing towards the demon. Your face twists in humor as you look at your lover. “Well of course Daddy and I will dress up with you!” You smile, amused at the joy in your daughter and the confusion of Satan.
Putting her down you say, “Baby, how about you go ask Uncle Asmo to help design your costume.” Gently stroking her hair as she redirects to the door . “Okay!” She squeals as she joyously runs off to find Asmodeus.
You walk over to Satan as he sighs, pinching his nose bridge. “How did I get roped into this?” He’s brows quirked and eyes pleading a bit. You chuckle. Taking your spot on his lap, arm wrapped loosely around his neck. “Because you have a little girl that idolizes you!” Your words tug at his heart, as your palm caresses his cheek. “Yeah but why do I have to ‘dress up’?” He whines a bit. “Because, you love your daughter and if you didn’t it would break her little heart.” You see him falter under your words. “I know.” He sighs, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “And besides, it’s not just you she wants. We both are doing this for her.” You state pointedly, making him look up at you. A slight smirk cuts his lips, “That’s right.” You raise a brow at the devilish gleam that flashes across his eyes. “Why did those words sound more schemish, then innocent compared to before?” You shake your head with an amused grin as the blonde responds. “Oh, no reason. Just can’t wait to see you looking stupid.” He laughs as you playfully punch him in the shoulder. “What ever, you jerk.” Your words make him chuckle more as you leave the room.
~ 1 Week Later ~
It’s Halloween night and you and your daughter are getting ready to meet Satan downstairs so you all could leave to the human world. Since it will be your daughter's first time in the human world where she will be old enough to remember, she is very excited to say the least. You both have been in your room for hours getting dressed up and talking, her telling you all the things she is excited about. “And then I’m going to get so much candy tonight, so i can share it with Uncle Beelie!” You smile, listening to your child’s ramblings as you sweep on the dark shade of lipstick. Once you’re finished with your makeup, you sit back and assess your work. While doing so you hear a gentle gasp sound behind you. “You look so pretty, Mommy!” Looking up at you with sparkles in her orbs just like yours. Booping her nose, you scrunch your face “Thank you my love, but I think you are the true beauty here.” She giggles as she takes your hand. “Come on. Come on.” Her impatience shows as she tries to rush you both to the door, itching to finally go.
Satan stands at the base of the stairs in his true demon form. Looking up as he hears his daughter rushing down the stairs screaming, “Daddy. Daddy, look!” The demon of wrath's heart melts when he sees his daughter standing before him doing twirls, showing all angles of her costume. Upon her head are her little horns that resemble his, her wild dirty blonde hair framing her rosy cheeked face. She is wearing a charcoal grey long sleeve shirt, a black tutu with white dots to match his pants, black tights, black flats, a black feather boa around her neck and the finishing touch a little clip on tail with a purple tip for her own touch. Seeing his daughter so happy to be ‘just like him’, makes him overflow with pride and adoration for this gift that he was, ironically,  blessed to have. With his daughter gripping his leg, that’s when his gaze falls on your form.
To say he was taken aback by your appearance would be an understatement. His jaw damn near hit the floor, his eyes drinking in your beauty. Of course he thought you were the most enchanting creature to walk all the worlds. But, he couldn’t quite help how the little black horns that rest atop your head make his knees buckle a bit. How the jet black shadow on your lids intensifies the color of your eyes. The dark shade of lipstick outlining your lips so well, tempting him to kiss them. As his gaze travels down, taking in every inch of your body. Wondering how you can be so sexy yet modest at the same time. Being fully covered in a black long sleeve, black pleather shorts and sheer black tights. Only leaving room for the imagination. Paired with a leather body harness that connects to your neck, waist, and thighs and black heeled booties for added height. Almost gawking at your being, he is snapped back to the sound of your voice. “Are you just gonna stare at me or are we gonna get going.” You state with a sly smile. “Ah yeah.” Shaking himself from his trance, “You go wait by the door, we’ll be right there.” He waves off his daughter. Taking a few steps towards you putting a strong arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. “Wow, you look...” He trails off struggling to find the words to describe you. “I look like what?” You ask, savoring this moment. “You look, amazing.” You laugh a bit, pressing against his chest freeing yourself from his grasp. Taking a few steps backwards, smirking. “If my memory serves me right I believe you had told me and I quote that you ‘can’t wait to see me looking stupid’. Does that sound about right?” You toy, enjoying the look he gives you as you throw his words back in his face. Turning around to head to the door Satan rushes to catch up with you. Pulling you to his side by your hip, “Perhaps I misjudged the situation, I admit.” You giggle, leaning into your ear he whispers. “Later tonight, remind me to request you keep those horns on.” His voice almost a low growl, “You look absolutely... delectable in them.” His words curling with sin as he grips your ass before you slap his hand away.
Ripping yourself from him once again you give him a warning look, “Do that again and you won't be getting anything tonight.” You sass.  A soft chortle vibrates his chest as he watches you walk towards the door, with possibly a little more sway to your hips.
He watches as you crouched down, helping your little halfling get her jacket on. Taking another moment to be grateful for this life he has with you. And how meeting you by chance led to moments like these where he has a kin to call his own, that will look up to him like he holds all the answers. Moments that he will ingrain into his memory.
“Daddyyyy. Come ooon.” His daughter says dramatically as ever. Pulling him behind her by his hand, just like he always hopes she will.
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I hope you enjoyed this, I know it’s been a loooong ass time since I’ve posted a new work and I hope that this can help me get out of this block I’ve been in for too long. 
So if you have any ideas of what other cute or not so cute 😉 Halloween works I could do I would love to hear them.
💛 ~
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jinkicake · 5 years ago
Text
All Jean Needs is a Little Push
Jean x Reader
Hi~~ I love Jean! I wanted to experiment with a jealous!Jean, I even tried to add a confession scene... I like writing jealous!reader so I thought, might as well switch it up!`∀´ Also Marlowe is best boy, such a sweet thing. أ‿أ
WC-1469
~~~
“Hitch huh?” Connie smirks at his snide remark and Sasha stifles her laughter into her hand. You throw an arm around Marlowe’s shoulder, peering up at him with the same teasing glint in your eyes.
“You guys are you know…” You trail off, dating?, a knowing look etched into your features. Marlowe only glances down at you before quickly looking at the other two beside him.
“I don’t know.” Marlowe replies and you quickly unwrap your arm from his shoulder, sending a confused look towards Connie. He can’t be that dense, can he? You only gape at him before hearing Eren sigh on the other side of the table. 
“I don’t either.” Eren replies and the table falls silent, the density of the two boys too overwhelming. As a result you lean forward and let your forehead slam against the wooden table. 
“I’m so sorry Mikasa.” You mutter painfully, dramatically ignoring a distressed Jean who’s trying to pull you up in an effort to check out your now bruised head. His hands wrap around your shoulders and force you to sit up straight. Your face is warm against his hands as he pushes back your hair, Jean lets out a sigh of irritation at the redness on your forehead. You narrow your eyes up at him and purse your lips in concentration as you try to swat his hands away. Beside you, you can hear Connie and Sasha letting out playful snickers and you turn to look at them. You only get so far before Jean grips your jaw to turn you back to him. Only after the noise settles down does Marlowe turn his attention back to you.
“Oh, that’s right. (Y/N) do you mind showing me around the stables after we finishing eating?” Marlowe asks politely and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. Giving him a soft smile you nod and Jean pushes his hand against your sore forehead in response before sitting back down at the table. 
“Why don’t you have Connie show you?” Jean mutters childishly and you stare at him with an eyebrow raised, your hand clutching your now aching forehead. 
“Why don’t you just go with them, Jean?” Sasha offers and Connie nods his head in agreement, staring at the boy who lets out a noise of confusion.
“Clearly you want to go so badly.” Connie eggs on and you can’t help the amused smile on your face. 
“Huh? No?” Jean tries his best to act uninterested and he forces himself to listen to Mikasa and Eren’s conversation beside him. Had he known that the next day you and Marlowe would become buddy-buddy he would have gone with you, no hesitation. Now all he gets to do is watch as the two of you trail around everywhere together. The next evening Jean watches the two of you talk freely in the mess hall and his face scrunches in irritation. Leaning his cheek into his palm he continues to stare you down, wondering when did you become so interested in someone from the military police? Jean knows you didn’t like those guys. His face must be exposing his true emotions because you, once again for the fourth time that night, send him a raised eyebrow. One that dares to ask him what? All Jean does is continue to hold your stare. Letting out an irritated growl you place your hands on the table and stand up from your seat. 
“Jean.” Your eyes narrow at him before you wrap your hand around his wrist and drag him out of the mess hall. The rest of the table falls silent and watches in amusement, Connie leans over to give Marlowe a congratulating slap on the back.
“Maybe you aren’t so dense after all.” The bald boy laughs and Sasha places her hand on Marlowe’s arm.
“Who knew all Jean needed was a push?” She laughs cheerfully and even Mikasa is watching the scene with interest in her eyes. Armin looks at Eren who still looks lost and the blonde-haired boy furrows his eyebrows at his friend.

“Eren you know Jean likes (Y/N) right?” Armin asks and Eren snaps his head to his friend before looking at the rest of the table with shock all over his face.
“Huh? Jean likes (Y/N)?!” He damn near yells and the table falls quiet, staring at him with defeated faces. Eren is too blunt, poor Mikasa. 
You ended up dragging Jean out to the stables, letting go of his wrist when you end up in front of the building. Immediately you turn your attention to the horses and give one a gentle smile, rubbing their nose softly. Jean only stares at the ground, starting to feel the embarrassment from his actions wash over him.
“Well Jean, say what you want to say.” You face him head-on but still focus all your attention on the horse in front of you. The large animal calming your racing heart. Jean feels like an idiot but even at this moment he is jealous of a horse, what he wants is your attention and he wants all of it, like a possessive little toddler. You turn and glance over at him, noticing his fists are tightened and a hard look is resting on his face. You remove your hands from the horse and turn to him, resting one of your hands on his bicep. “Jean? What’s wrong?” You ask him and genuinely start to feel worried. 
“Since when are you friends with the military police.” He mutters, his eyes still trained on the ground, unable to look at you. You find it hard to mask your laughter and you let out a soft chuckle at his words.
“Huh, Jean? Last I recall you wanted to be apart of that section, did you not?” You taunt lightly and Jean grits his teeth in response. That had been true but that’s before Eren got into his head and before he knew you. When he saw all of you standing there, staying for the corps he knew he had to too. 
“T-that was b-before…” He stutters, clearly flustered with your teasing. Quicker than his brain can process, you wrap your arms around his waist before resting your head against his chest. “(Y/N) p-please wait until we get married.” The words fumble out of Jean’s mouth before he can stop them and when he sees that glint in your eyes he knows it's over for him. 
“You have no reason to be jealous Jean.” You lightly scold him like a child, he’s too easy to rile up. “You should have just come with us last night as Connie said. You could have listened to us talk about our feelings, Marlowe was telling me about Hitch and I told him about you.” You let out a little hum before unwrapping your arms from the taller man’s torso. “Well,” You pause and tilt your head at him as you shrug before turning around to walk back towards the dorms. Jean following behind you, hot on your trail.
“W-what do you mean feelings?” He sputters like an idiot and you softly laugh. 
“Must I spell it out for you Jean, or will you just tell me already?” You ask, wanting to hear him confess to you first. The taller boy only darts his eyes over to the side before lowering down to the ground, confusion etched softly all over his face. 
“Tell you what?” His bratty, defensive mode finally appears and you sigh while rolling your eyes. Turning around to face him once again, you cross your arms over your chest as you stare him down with a frown. 
“I don’t know…” You trail off, looking up at the night sky in a fake thought. “That you have feelings for me.” Softly the words leave your mouth and you can’t look at Jean, too embarrassed by your words. “Because I adore-“ You're cut off as your breath hitches in your throat when Jean wraps his arms around your shoulders. The action makes it impossible to see his red face, instead, you get a face full of his clothed chest.
“I might as well be in love with you.” His words are quiet and you barely hear him. The only way Jean knows you heard him at all is by the subtle movement of your hand clutching his jacket in your fist. “Yes I like you (Y/N), so much.” Jean confesses and you wrap your arms tighter around him.
“Really?” You breathe out and look up to see him already staring down at you, nervousness written all over his face. It’s endearing. “I really like you too Jean.” You whisper and rest your face back against his chest. You love him whole-heartedly and never want to let him go, as you squeeze your arms around him you do just that.
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adhdeancas · 4 years ago
Text
Sunset Sound: God is Dead?
I might start updating twice a week because I am writing this story at BREAKNECK speed. this is my favorite chapter so far. enjoy! (special thanks to @friedchickenangelwings once again for sticking with me and my incessant rambling about this story at all hours during holidays)
Fic Summary:  Everything is the same up to the end of 15x20. Chuck has been “defeated,” but it was all a farce. When Jack absorbed Chuck, Chuck easily took over the 3 year old’s body and acted as if he were defeated. Chuck!Jack then had the Rusty Nail placed in the barn where Dean died, and with Cas gone, Dean didn’t fight it. Chuck did reimagine Heaven, but he’s fed the same lie to them all: that everything is perfect, they are free, they are in real paradise. Except it’s all an illusion insulated by blue skies and endless horizons. Because, just like the Good Place, people make Heaven into Hell for each other. And there’s nothing Chuck loves more than the natural order of tragedy. He “let it slip” to Bobby that he brought Cas back, when he really left him to rot in the Empty. Dean has to find his best friend before it’s too late, and he has to keep a happy face for everyone else, because Chuck is watching. Always watching. 
“You know?” Dean shakes his head. “What’s going on?” 
Charlie leans back against the bar. “Well, after Ash and I found each other-” they give a cute little nod of the head in sync, dorks, “through the frankly shitty wifi they’ve got up here, we got to talking.” 
“Yeah, we realized some shit just didn’t add up. Like angel radio.” Ash spins around and ducks into his backroom, coming back with a laptop that’s way more advanced than it was last time. Dean raises his eyebrows at it. “Yeah, man, it’s sick, right? Charlie upgraded my systems, it’s bitchin’.” he reaches past Dean’s shoulder to give Charlie a fist bump (enthusiastically returned) and Dean backs off. 
“Yeah, bitchin’,” Dean repeats with a grin. He’s too dumb for these people. But he sure is glad they’re on his side.  “Well, hey, show me whatcha got.” 
Ash nods and taps his temple. He mutters to himself and pulls the system toward him while Dean watches anxiously. Ash pauses and looks at him. “Dude. Gimme a second? This setup is a lil’ more complicated than your blackberry.”
Dean snorts and gives him space, followed by Charlie. “Dude. you’ve been dead too long. Blackberrys haven’t existed for like… ten years.”
Ash gives him a genial middle finger and Dean grins. Charlie sits up on the pool table and Dean leans against it next to her. “Listen, Charlie, I gotta. I gotta say sorry, again, for…” He clears his throat. 
“Dying?” Charlie asks lightly.
“Uh, yeah.” 
“Not your fault, Dean.” She shrugs, and she actually manages to look cheerful. Damn, Dean loves this chick. She puts her hand on his shoulder and shakes her head. “Seriously, Dean. Let it go! I have! Seriously, I got to spend a few years with my high school girlfriend watching Lord of the Rings - she was a cheerleader - and sneaking out to design some fucking world-altering programs with Ash! Being dead, for me, it’s kinda amazing.” She smiles at him. “Guessing you don’t feel the same though, huh?” 
Dean swallows. He doesn’t know how much he wants to say about that, but being dead… it definitely sucks. And not in the good way. “Guess it just feels like I got more to do. Now, at least.” Now that Cas is… and heaven is…
Charlie looks like she doesn’t know what to say. Luckily, they’re interrupted before she has to think of something.
“Eyo! Sorry, amigos,” he leans over backwards to look at them. “Found it.” 
Charlie jumps off the table and grabs Dean’s hand. After a few steps she shoves him with her shoulder until he bumps into Ash’s back. Dean bounces off his soft form and clears his throat. “Sorry,” he mutters, throwing a death glare back at his surrogate sister. She flashes him a smug grin before focusing back on the computer screen. 
Ash recovers from getting jostled in time to point. “Yeah, so, we got word on Angel FM that this Jack kid is goin’ real Jim Jones over here.” He holds a finger up at several paragraphs as he’s flipping through them. “Preachin’ all kinda love and peace and hippy commune shit, but if somebody even questions it, he snaps. Naomi no-likey,” He smirks up at Dean and points to a group of cuss-words even Dean barely uses. “Rough translation.” 
Dean shakes his head. “That doesn’t sound like Jack.” Jack, especially Jack-with-a-soul, almost never got mad. I mean, he’d spent quality time with Lucifer without blowing up. The kid is level-headed to a fault. “Anything else?”
Ash frowns at him. “Y’know, going through angels’ personal phone calls is a lotta work.” 
Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius. Got anything else?” 
“Ash, what about the human rumors?” 
Ash looks at Charlie and they have a silent battle of wills, but Dean’s too impatient to see who wins. “What human rumors?” 
They pause and come to an agreement. “Fighting. People fighting. Couples. Families. Friends. All over, since the reboot. People are happy, but… it’s like earth. People can talk - people can fight.” 
“And?” Dean raises his eyebrows. There’s something they’re not telling him, and he thinks he knows what.
Ash raises them right back. He’s not about to divulge. “Hombre, this ain’t earth. People are supposed to be happy. If they ain’t… like a glitch in the matrix, y’know?
Dean grunts. “Anything else weird on the radio? Anything at all.” 
Ash’s sigh sounds labored. He leans back in his chair and wobbles, obviously sorting through all the enochian bullshit he’s read over the past… whenever. “Meh… I got… I don’t know, God was singing?” 
“Singing? Singing what?” Dean leans in, intent. If it was Taylor Swift, Beyonce, maybe Lizzo… 
Ash cocks an eyebrow. “Folk shit. Indie music.” 
That’s what Dean was afraid of. “Shit.”
“Why? What does that mean?” Charlie grabs onto his arm. 
Dean’s worst fears, that’s what. “It means that ain’t my kid. It’s Chuck.” 
“Who the hell is that?” Ash stands up as Dean walks away, cursing every stupid atom that had decided to make this dumb universe. Although, he guesses, that was Chuck’s purview too. 
“He’s god! God before the reboot I mean, the dick who up and left and only came back to screw me and Sam over. Fuck, I thought we’d finally gotten out from under his thumb! Now, apparently, he’s just using my kid for his meat-suit.” Dean takes a deep breath. This is bad. Worse than bad-bad. 
“So… what do we do? How do we nuke God?” Charlie asks the question like it’s normal, just another Saturday afternoon. 
Dean thumps his forehead onto the nearest table. Sure, sure, good, great. They were back to square fucking one. “I don’t fucking know,” 
“Alright, break it down. We need more mojo, right? How do we get more mojo?” 
“Well, angels are the next best thing, right? Maybe if we get them all together, they’re obviously not psyched about folk-God, or whatever,”
Ash points at her like she’s a genius. “Alright, yeah!” 
“Guys, there aren’t enough angels left to even try.” Dean feels hopeless. There’s nothing to do. They are literally out of options. There’s no hope. 
“Well, where can we get some more angels, then?” 
Dean stands up. “I know a place.” His heart feels like it’s being squeezed like a lemon. It’s a crazy idea. It’s practically impossible. And probably suicide. And he’s gotta find a way. “We gotta break open the Empty.” 
“The Empty?” Ash looks skeptical. Dean smirks. 
“Yeah, angel/demon afterlife. We punch our way in there and we’ve got juice for days, man.” He spreads his arms out, asks the question. 
Ash glances at Charlie then back at Dean. He sniffs and nods. “I’m in.” 
Dean looks to Charlie, who scoffs. “Duh. Of course. So what, we get in and say pretty please help us kill your dad?” 
A warm feeling spreads through Dean’s chest. “Well, we’ll have a little help on the inside. Cas.”
“Castiel? The angel dude?” 
“He’s dead?” Charlie’s voice has much more concern than Ash’s. Dean nods in response to both questions. It still makes him feel like he’s swallowing glass to think about it. “What happened?” 
Dean looks down at his boots. It’s only the scene that keeps playing on repeat behind his eyelids. Cas crying, holding onto his shoulder, telling him… telling him goodbye. Telling him that. “He saved me.” he starts, expression guarded. “He made a deal.” 
Ash grunts and nods, ready to drop it. Charlie stays quiet too, but she clearly wants to say something. Dean’s thankful for the drop. He doesn’t know what he’d say if they asked more. All he knows is that he needs Cas back. And he needs to talk to him. He needs to tell him that - that he wants him to just stay fucking put, damn it. That he needs to stop dying on him. And that he can’t just go and say something like that and then leave. It’s a bitch-ass move. 
“Yo, Deano?” 
Dean jerks his head back up. “Yeah. Sorry.” 
“How do we jail-break ‘em?” 
“Guessing we’re gonna need some serious magic shit. And since we can’t get to Rowena…” 
Ash breaks into a wide grin. “Pamela? I’ll give her a call.” 
Pamela is “busy,” so they have to wait for her to finish up with Jesse before she can come by. Dean has to hand it to her, it’s just about the most Pamela thing in the world to put off their realms-saving work for a heavenly hookup. Dean hangs around talking for a bit, filling his friends in on the latest on Earth, but he can’t concentrate. Ever since they’d decided the next thing is to get into the Empty, he can’t relax. He takes his beer and goes outside to wait, settling down on the Roadhouse’s front step to watch for Pamela.
After a bit, Charlie plops down next to him, a soft grin on her lips. He returns it half-heartedly before looking out across the clearing. She leans her head against his shoulder. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence before she turns into him. “So we gotta get into the Empty.” she sighs. Dean nods glumly. Just his fucking luck. Even heaven is ruined. But at least… at least they’ve got a shot. “And get Castiel.” 
Dean frowns and pulls away to look at her. Maybe it’s just his paranoia, but he hears some deeper meaning in her voice. “The guy died for me. I gotta,” he presses his lips together, hating himself for the half-lie he’s telling. Cas deserves better. Charlie just nods and watches, like she’s waiting for him to keep going. When he manages to talk again, his voice cracks. “We gotta get him, Charlie.” 
Charlie pulls him into a side hug. “I always said he was dreamy, that angel.” She points out. Dean snorts. He remembers. He’d blushed like an idiot after she said that the first time. 
“Yeah.” He mutters. Okay, so she knows. That he and Cas are… that Dean’s… good. Cas deserves recognition. He deserves someone to talk about him. For Dean to talk about him. But then Charlie just hasn’t spoken, and he feels like he needs some explanation. “I… there were other guys, before him.” He continues, clearing his throat. His mind wanders to Benny and Lee, Crowley. “But he’s… he’s it.” 
He risks a look at Charlie and she is just staring at him with a fond smile. She surges forward and kisses his cheek, squealing. “Yes, I fucking knew it, you bisexual dumbass! Bi, right?” 
Dean laughs. “Yeah, I guess- wait, you knew?” 
Charlie looks around, like Dean’s a dumbass it was so obvious. “Well, yeah, dude. Game recognize game.” She motions between the two of them and he scoffs. That’s right. Gaydar. That would’ve been nice to have for the last, oh, 12 years? “We’ll get him back.” 
Dean pulls Charlie in for another hug and leaves her tucked under his arm until a motorcycle pulls up and Pamela gets off, shaking her hair loose like a blind slow-motion model in a porno. She grins at the pair on the steps like she can see them. “Take a picture, you two. It’ll last longer.”
“How did you-”
She throws a hand out in dismissal. “Please, I can feel ogling from a mile away.” She pauses, laughing at the embarrassed silence Charlie and Dean are sporting. “Nah, I’m just joking. I do the hair-shake for a reason. I deserve a good stare. Hell, it’s half the reason I own this motorcycle.” She throws her helmet in the general direction of the motorcycle and greets her friends. Dean can’t decide whose hug is more flirty, his or Charlie’s. 
“Alright, bitches. Let’s séance some shit.” 
tag list: (ask or dm to be removed or added)
@dochunterwitch  @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat @alienapparatus
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perriewinklenerdie · 5 years ago
Text
Evening conversations (Ethan Ramsey x MC)
Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC
A/N:  Hello, hello, hello! How are we feeling, fam? PB delivered, we finally did it guys. I, of course, what else is new, couldn't help myself, and had to attempt a rewrite. Added some scenes cause I have no impulse control. Now, we have a few long weeks ahead of us, but it is 1) understandable and 2) so incredibly smart and good of PB to put the health of their people first. We live in hard times, the lives and safety come first. It will fly by, and hopefully, in the meantime, that scary situation is over. Take care of yourselves, guys.
AO3 link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738884
Tag list:   @paleweasels, @hopelessromantic1352, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @strawberrwess @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h 
  Enjoy! <3
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Her shoulder comes in contact with Landry’s chest and suddenly her mind is quiet. No amount of shouts or looks thrown her way could puncture the fog that surrounded her for that one moment. It was nothing, and then all at once, it came with double the force, knocking the air out of her lungs.
Both of them tumble to the ground, Claire’s elbow digging into Landry’s ribs, a sharp pain radiating from the point of contact. Before she knows what is happening, a pair of hands grab her by her arms forcefully, fingers digging into her skin, and make a move to pull her up, when a voice booms over the field and next thing she knows, the weight on her back is eased.
“Don’t touch her, you son of a bitch.” His tone is chilling, filled with newly found rage that wouldn’t be easily explained if anyone asked why he was so quick to defend her. Luckily for him, the fight breaks out and his act of protectiveness gets forgotten by everyone but her, too stunned to participate in the insult fest that ensued as a result of her attempt to secure a win for Edenbrook.
It only stops when a very disappointed Naveen scolds them, breaking them all up and sending them on their own way. Claire was getting her clothes out of her bag when she heard his voice again, just behind her back.
“So? Was that worth dragging me down here?” Ethan’s words were slightly slurred, and as soon as she turned around to face him, she knew why. He was holding a cold bottle of beer to his cheek, the skin beneath the glass turning an ugly shade or purple. She winced, feeling a pang of guilt in her chest.
“I regret you getting hurt, but I don’t regret having you here.” She revealed, a proud smirk pulling on the corners of her lips when she thought about a crushing defeat that left Mass Kenmore licking their wounds. “I came to mess them up and I definitely achieved that.”
He smiled without humor, his eyes remaining emotionless. The lines of his face are even more pronounced under the floodlights over the field than normally, making him seem even more tired than usually.
“I got the feeling your head wasn’t really in it tonight.”
“It’s softball. My head was never going to be in it.” he responded matter-of-factly, looking past her. There was something in the way he closed himself off to his surroundings that worried her. Something was off, something was bothering him, and she would be damned if she didn’t try to help him, any way she could.
Her fingers brush against the back of his hand with the softest touch, raising goosebumps up his arm. It was all she dared to do in public, where everyone could see them and draw their own conclusions.  Despite all that, the warmth of his skin against hers made her pulse jump, endorphins rushing through her bloodstream rapidly.
“I know it’s more than that. Talk to me, Ethan.” Her face fell, realizing how little they could keep from each other, despite their best efforts to keep things professional and keep their private affairs separate from their work. His gaze made its way back to her eyes, and the depth of his yearning is as strong as her own. When he speaks, its with the softest tone she’s heard from him in a while, almost like he didn’t care about all the other doctors that were passing them by.
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
His eyes flashed with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He finally let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “… I suppose you could come home with me.” a muscle on his face twitched like he was about to smile, the line feeling too domestic, too familiar. “I have a new recipe I’ve been looking for an excuse to try.”
He was trying to impress her. He was definitely trying to impress her, she was sure of that. If not because of the way he said it, then because of the way he smiled when she asked, surprised. “You cook?”
“I do. Often. I find it very meditative, actually. It always helps me get my thoughts in order.”
“Okay, now I’m intrigued. Take me home.” She blurted out, then blushed a crimson red when she realized what her sentence carried with it. His lips curled into a warm smile, a reaction she didn’t expect, but wasn’t about to ask questions.
They separated briefly, for just enough time to shower in the locker rooms and change into their casual clothes. When they met again, they walked to his car, picking up their conversation about the patient they had earlier that day.
Ethan opened the door to his apartment, the space as clean and spotless as she remembered it to be. Her eyes got drawn to the view behind the windows, the curtains being thrown open only making it easier for her to watch how the lights flickered above the water.
She walked further into the room uncertainly, running her hand along the back of the couch. “So what’s this recipe you’ve been dying to try?”
“Georgian Stuffed Chicken.”
“On a random weeknight?” she asked, surprised that he was willing to go through such a meticulous process when they both knew they had an early shift the next day.
“Correct. Come over here.” He nodded, tilting his head towards the entrance to the kitchen, letting her go first. Following close behind her, he walked over to the fridge and then placed a full chicken and a bowl of butter in front of her.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Claire’s voice went up an octave when she voiced her concern. She did know how to cook, she was pretty good at it too, but measured up to Ethan, she was almost certain that she was a novice. He grinned at her slightly.
“Get massaging.”
Her moves were insecure and awkward, not entirely convinced that she was doing it correctly, and she was completely right, for she heard him laughing under his breath as he watched her struggle.
“You’ll have to do better than that. Rub it right in. Full coverage.” He instructed her, then turned towards his own work. His body seemed completely at ease and strangely content when he occupied himself with chopping ingredients and sautéing them in a pot.
“Ethan, just how long have you been a secret chef?”
“For about as long as I can remember.” He answered her question, wiping his hands on the towel he had by his side.
“As in… you had an Easy-Bake Oven?” she tried imagining little Ethan helping around the kitchen, the vision of it endearing more than she anticipated.
“As in my Dad liked to cook, and he let me help him with all the easy parts as soon as I was old enough.” He set the record straight, his face not revealing any emotions connected to the memories.
“That’s painfully adorable.” Claire giggled, leaning against the counter, her eyes focused on him. “Did little Ethan have a special apron? Or a little chef’s hat?”
“… No.”
The scent of their food being made filled the air around them, occupying her senses for a moment. Ethan turned back to the counter, chopping the cherries into smaller chunks. While he was working, he continued explaining. “My dad worked a lot. He took on extra shifts. The kind of thing single parents have to do to keep the lights on. One way I could help was making dinner sometimes when he was exhausted.”
“That’s pretty sweet. I guess you got good at it.” she pointed out, a sweet smile brightening up her face. A satisfied smirk made its way into his features.
“I make it my business to get good at everything.”
As she finished up with the chicken, Ethan added more ingredients to the pot, inhaling deeply, something weighting on his chest heavily.
“It’s missing something.” He mused, shaking his head after a second of thought.
“Did you check the recipe?”
“Recipes always tend to the safe side, flavor-wise. What would you add?” he asked, pulling out peppers and herbs from his fridge. She nodded towards the peppers.
“I should have known you’d want to add more heat.” He grinned, putting the herbs away and getting started on chopping the peppers.
“It’s not the only kind of heat I’d like to add…” she muttered under her breath, clearly enough for him to hear and understand. His gaze zeroes in on her, eyes meeting in a look of longing so intense it makes him weak in the knees. It lasts only a moment before it’s gone, with a deep breath, and then he’s back to being his self-controlled self, focusing on the cutting board once more.
“You make it hard to stick to my intentions, Claire.”
“Good.”
They both got busy with keeping their eyes on their food, but time went by and Ethan still didn’t say a word about what they were meant to talk about in the first place.
“So… are we going to talk about whatever’s got you so…” she extended her arms widely and Ethan sighed in defeat.
“I suppose I did promise you an explanation. The thing is… I’ve been avoiding my father.” He told her, and it felt as though he let go of a heavy burden. He’s always been on his own, dealing with his problems alone. Now, at least in that moment, he had her to rely on, and the way she looked at him told him that she was there to listen, and help should he need her to do so.
“But why? It sounded like you and him have a strong relationship.” She noted, trying to find the straightest line through all the parts she couldn’t possibly understand. Perhaps one day, she would be by his side to help him deal with it all, but today was not that day. Today, he needed her to just be with him and help him any way she knew how.
“I can’t stop thinking about what you and I talked about in the care that day we followed my mother. I always thought that Dad and I had a decent relationship for two people with not much in common.” He placed the knife back down on the cutting board, exhaling loudly before continuing. “But I’ve come to realize that I never tried to get closer to him. Because I couldn’t truly understand him.”
“Because he still loves your mom.” She understood what he meant with a somber realization, seeing past the façade of a strong man that was rarely rattled by missiles that hit him. He only nodded.
“That kind of unconditional love… I could never comprehend it.”
“He loves you unconditionally too.” Claire pointed out to him what was obviously there. In any other circumstance, she would try to get to the bottom of it, but it was clear what he meant, and they didn’t have the time to delve into it just yet.
“Everything in this world is conditional, Claire. Everything. My dad, he never pushes anyone. He never challenges anyone. He never demands anything of anybody.” He tapped his finger against the counter every time he pointed out a trait of his father, his face as blank as it could possibly be. “What my mother did to us, it’s like it didn’t matter. And I needed it to matter. I need what I do to matter.”
“I take that it’s not how your relationship with Dr. Banerji was.”
“The opposite. “ he smiled softly at the mention of his mentor that became a second father figure to him. A man that pushed him to be the best doctor he could be and was now pushing him to be the best man he could possibly be, even if Ethan himself wasn’t aware of what his friend was doing. “Naveen challenged me every single day. Still does. If I ever came up short of what I was capable of, he let me know.”
Her face fell when she put his words together with what she knew was a typical Ethan Ramsey reaction. “And you haven’t talked to your dad about any of this.”
“I have no idea how I’d start that conversation.”
“So you’re avoiding him altogether?” she asked, already knowing the answer. It was such a characteristic thing for him to do, and yet she hoped that she was wrong. But she rarely was wrong.
“Yes.” He breathed in deeply, stirring the content of the pot.
The perfect silence of his apartment is shattered by the knock on the door, and Ethan’s whole body visibly tenses at the sound.
“Just how long have you been ignoring him? Long enough for him to show up unannounced to make sure you’re still alive?” her eyes flickered between him and the door, a look of concern blooming on her face. His face twisted pensively.
“… I’d better go answer that.”
His own footsteps ring in his ears as he approaches the door. He counted the distance between him and his father, dreading the conversation that most likely would ensue the moment he opens the door to greet him.
He could feel the pleasant warmth on his back, in the place where Claire had her eyes on him, offering her silent support from afar. He took a deep breath, then answered the door.
‘Hi, Dad.”
“Thank goodness you’re here. I was starting to worry about you.” a relieved smile lit up his father’s face, his posture visibly relaxing as soon as he was sure that his son was safe and sound.
Ethan’s expression fell when he realized how worried he must have been. “Sorry, Dad, I’ve been…”
“Busy, as usual. Don’t worry, I understand.”
Alan stepped into the apartment, sweeping his eyes over the room, and then his eyes stopped at Claire and his movements halted instantly.
“Oh. But I see you have company… Hello again, Dr. Herondale.”
Claire smiled at him warmly, her eyes sparkling. “Don’t mind me, Mr. Ramsey. Pull up a stool and help us make fancy chicken.” Her comment made him laugh, his gaze shifting from the chicken on the counter to his son.
“I see a chicken that needs proper seasoning. Do you mind, Ethan?”
He waved his hand at his dad’s comment. “Add whatever you like, Dad.”
Moving around the room with comfortableness of a person that knew the area well, Alan reached into the cabinets and pulled out a few bottles of spices, spreading them over the chicken. “This chicken’s going to give us all a little punch in the jaw.”
Ethan kept his line of sight on the stove, refusing to look up and face the situation he was in. But then he felt warmth on his face and found it impossible not to look back at her. He was met with her smile and shining eyes.
Deciding to break the moment before he did something irresponsible, he took the pot off the stove and moved towards the counter. “Incoming.”
Alan and Claire stepped aside, observing as Ethan stuffed the chicken, then moved it into the baking dish. Ethan’s father cleared his throat. “So what exactly have you been busy with these past couple weeks?”
“Work. Same as usual.”
“… I see. It’s just that until recently, you always had time to answer my calls.” He pointed out, his face twisting with sadness. Silence fell upon the three of them, Ethan remaining quiet, unable to answer. Claire’s eyes find his own once again, asking a silent question. He shook his head, refusing to act.
“Talk to him.” she mouthed towards him, frowning. Alan noticed something was off, and he caught their little exchange.
“Am I missing something?”
Her eyes were still on him, still encouraging him to talk to his father like he should have done weeks ago. With a heavy sigh, he gave up and turned towards his father.
“Dad… I have to talk to you about something.” Ethan said, then turned towards her with tired eyes. “Can you handle the bird?”
Her hand itched to reach out and rest on his arm. She resisted the urge, instead nodding her head reassuringly. “Sure. You two go talk.”
Claire tried not to focus on their conversation too much, tried to give them as much privacy as she could, but one line reached her ears despite her best efforts.
“Love is complicated, Ethan. I thought you’d know that by now…”
In her peripheral vision, she was convinced she could see Alan looking at her, and then, a second later, a hot flash brushed against her skin. Ethan looked at her too, convinced she wouldn’t notice.
The conversation the two men needed to have was private. So much so that she felt as though she was intruding, despite knowing what the said conversation was about. Knowing all that, she decided to make sure that all in the kitchen was taken care of, and then started creeping towards the door of the apartment. Ethan’s worried voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Claire? Where are you going?” she turned around, nodding towards them both.
“Home. I think you two need some privacy.”
“But the chicken…” he was genuinely upset that she was leaving, which made her smile so widely her cheeks hurt. Winking at him playfully, she responded with humor in her voice.
“Bring me some tomorrow.”
She could see the war that was waging in his mind as he looked between her and his father before he nodded, relieved that he would have time to set things straight with his dad and still catch up with her later.
“Wait here, Dad. Claire, I’ll walk you out.”
“It was nice seeing you again, Mr. Ramsey.” She bid the older man goodbye, smiling at him widely. He reciprocated the gesture in kind.
“It’s always a pleasure to talk to you, Dr. Herondale. Get home safe and have a good night.”
Ethan led her out of the building, holding the door open for her.
“Can you get home okay?”
“Sure, I’ll call a car.” She shrugged, reaching into her pocket for her phone when she was stopped by Ethan’s hand. He rested it on her shoulder, his touch gentle and warm, and then turned her towards him.
“Claire…”
He pulled her even closer, resting his other hand on her cheek. His thumb caressed her skin, tracing the line of her cheekbone tenderly. When he spoke, his voice was low and filled to the brim with longing, not for the first time that evening.
“Thank you.”
“Ethan…”
It all felt familiar, the determination in his eyes, the certainty of his moves, the warmth of his touch. Without another moment of hesitation, he leaned down to make their lips meet, wrapping his arm around her securely. He couldn’t get her close enough, couldn’t hold her tight enough.
So many times, he imagined what it would be like to have her by his side again. So many sleepless nights he spent missing the heat of her body, the softness of her touch, the tenderness of her caress. Now that it was finally happening, he felt as though he was dreaming again.
He could feel the desperation in the way her lips moved against his, the fierceness and eagerness to bring him closer. It was everything he’d wanted to do, to have her close and keep her there. He wanted it to happen every day of those past months, every time she came near him, talked to him, argued with him. The fire was still there, simmering lowly, waiting for the circumstances to change so it could flare up again.
Their breathing got irregular, both of them trying to catch as much oxygen as they could. The intensity of the kiss was rising fast, threatening to destroy the scale. Every cell in his body was calling for her, to hold her, to have her, to bring her back home with him. She held him tighter, their lips coming together fast and hard, desperately trying to prolong the moment. His fingers grabbed the material of her dress that covered her back, willing to do whatever it took to hold onto her.
At long last, she pulled away from him, forcing herself to not dive right back into him. Their eyes met, longing in them clear as day. They still held each other close, unable to put even an inch of space between them.
“Ethan… what does this mean?” she muttered, her voice small and insecure. He felt a pang in his chest when he realized what she was expecting him to say.
“I don’t know.”
Ethan pulled her right back in, the kiss having an entirely different tone. Slow, soft and tender, filled to the brim with emotions he was beginning to understand and come to terms with. She kissed him back, her hands caressing the sides of his face.
“We’ll talk about it later.”
They were breathing the same air, electricity cracking all around them. The invisible force slammed them back together, his hands moving lower to grip her hips. She leaned backwards, kissing him hungrily, like she was never going to get enough of him.
Ethan’s lips left hers, moving along the line of her jaw, descending down her neck. The sound she made bordered on obscene, definitely not suited for the situation they were in currently, but he couldn’t care less. It did things to him, things he could definitely name, things he definitely wanted to explore with her, over and over again. But it wasn’t the time and place for it.
“Do you think-“ he leaned back for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough for her to reach for the door handle, pushing him back inside.
The corridor was dark and she slammed them against the wall, hiding them from the view. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she pulled tightly, a low groan ringing in the empty space around them. The thought of letting her go seemed impossible, and he had no idea how they were going to say goodnight.
Kissing her was intoxicating him, making him feel lightheaded. His hands wandered on her body, touching every part he could reach. With just the tips of his fingers, he brushed the skin of her legs beneath the hem of the dress she was wearing. A heavy sigh slipped out of her mouth, sending a shiver down his back.
Ethan’s touch got more insistent, now gripping the soft skin of her thigh, pulling her leg up and around his hip, growling at the contact. Claire’s smirk was concealed by the darkness they were drowning in, but they knew each other well enough for him to know she was smug. Pressing against her, he elicited a desperate sound of her own, grinning against her.
He trailed off from her lips yet again, sucking on the skin of her collarbone gently, then leaned back and rested his forehead against hers. Their breaths were elevated, shoulders moving up and down rapidly. Any more teasing, and he would have to take her against the wall, which he didn’t want for multiple reasons, the main one being that he wanted to take his time. He waited so long to have her by his side again, he can wait one day more.
“Let’s get you that car.” He whispered and was met with a slight nod from her, the same thought process happening in her mind at the same time.
They waited for her ride to arrive, holding each other close and kissing each other from time to time. When time came for her to leave, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him into her one last time, kissing him like there was nothing else in the world.
“Goodnight, Ethan.” She whispered, then got into the car. Once seated inside, she looked back at him, his eyes staring at her with longing. He followed the car with his gaze until it disappeared from his view.
---------
“You were gone for a long time.” Alan greeted him, leaning back on the couch with a knowing smile. Ethan stopped dead in his tracks, then scoffed and went to the kitchen to check on the chicken.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He tried deflecting the obvious question, to no avail, for his father laughed loudly.
“Ethan, you’re grinning like child that got candy. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say that it has nothing to do with her? Or something that happened while you two were gone?” a suggestive undertone in Alan’s voice made Ethan blush. He really was that obvious, so evidently taken with her that even his own father noticed.
“I- that’s not what we were supposed to be talking about.” He walked back to the couch, and his dad laughed a bit more.
“And you’re blushing! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this flustered. Makes me regret that I came here and interrupted your evening together.”
“Don’t. Claire is right, I do need to talk to you. It’s weighing on me, ignoring you like that. I want us to talk and resolve it.” Ethan sighed, running his fingers through his hair. His relationship with Alan was never stellar, but they made it work as best as they could. With his mother back, the pain he felt since he was a child came back to the surface, widening the chasm between the two men more and more with each day that passed.
“She’s got a good influence on you. Promise me that you will talk to her when we’re done here.”
“I promise.” He nodded, his eyes shifting to his phone, left on the table. His fingers twitched in a gesture to reach for it, but he caught himself just in time to stop himself.
“Text her. Now.” Alan advised, knowing that his son would not act on his feelings if he didn’t encourage him, one way or another.
“She isn’t even home yet, and even if she was, she won’t have time to respond right away.”
“Then ask her to call you when she does. Come on, you’re one second away from bursting.” He said with a clear indication that there was no point in Ethan denying or arguing the point his dad was making. Letting out an annoyed huff, he produced a short message carefully.
“There. Happy now?”
“You’ll thank me later-“ the ping of an incoming message interrupted his smug remark, both men looking on the phone, then at each other. Ethan, almost like he could read his father’s mind, snatched the phone before he could reach for it, causing the older man to laugh.
He could lie to himself all he wanted, but there was no lying to Alan. Ethan’s face lit up as soon as he read Claire’s message, and it was at that moment when he was finally hit with the reality.
“… oh god.” He muttered, leaning forward heavily. Turning to his dad, he tried to form a coherent sentence, but found it impossible. Alan put his hand on his son’s shoulder, offering a smile.
“Congratulations, son. You just realized what everyone else already knew. Including Claire herself.”
For the next two hours, they walked through all the issues Ethan had developed over the years. There was no way they could resolve it all in one night, but it was a good start. By the end of the evening, they had a solid foundation for their road to forgiveness.
Just as they stood up to end their night, Ethan’s phone started ringing. He jumped slightly in his seat, and then started breathing a bit heavier when he saw who was calling. Alan’s grip on his shoulder tightened briefly before started walking towards the guest room he usually occupied when he was visiting.
“Tell her, Ethan. You already know how you feel, it’s time to let her know too.”
“Thank you, Dad.” Ethan walked over to him, hesitating for just a second, before he hugged him tightly. Alan was stunned for a while, and then embraced his son, thanking silently for the universe placing Claire and Ethan on each other’s paths.
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