#and like all of those things are more pressing than replacing a mattress y’know??

[sodacowboy]

using a puff quilt made from flannel as a mattress topper because your mattress is a piece of shit in a room that regularly gets in the 75-85 range in the spring even with the window open is not an ideal solution if I’m being completely honest

[oikirstein]

𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 | 𝐫.𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚

PAIRING: suna x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: After your boyfriend of two years dumped you out of the blue, you start throwing back shot glasses like your life depends on it, trying to numb the pain. You were unaware that in your drunken haze, previously unspoken and slurred words flowed out of your mouth, through your phone, and into the ears of your best friend, Rintaro Suna.

CONTAINS: A bit of angst in the beginning, some fluff towards the end, drinking

WORD COUNT: 1,386

off the table — Ariana Grande

A/N: And so my obsession with the Positions album continues. After listening to “off the table” like five million times, I had the idea of making a drunk one shot based on it.

You couldn't believe it. The sheer audacity that some men had made your blood boil. After a little over two whole years together with your boyfriend, he approached you, asking to break up. Four days before your third anniversary.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Was all you could think as you knocked your head back and let the burning, bittersweet taste of tequila wash down your throat. Used to the flavor by now, you didn’t make a sour face until the juices from the lime slice flowed onto your tongue. It was almost three in the morning when you finished the bottle by yourself, salt and green rinds all over the floor and black tear stains coating your cheeks. You truly believed he was the one. He was the first person you genuinely loved after getting over your childhood crush. He treated you...well enough. He was definitely not the type to be super affectionate, but you knew he loved you either way. Just not enough, you guess. What was wrong with you? Laying on the floor in fetal position, you hugged your knees with your left arm and held your phone in your right hand as rhetorical upon rhetorical settled into your mind. Would you ever be able to love the same way again? Will you ever love somebody like the way you did him? There was only one other person whom you loved more than you ex, but you knew that those forsaken emotions wouldn’t bring you where you wanted to be. That’s why he rejected you all those years ago. You never thought he’d be so damn hard to replace. Of course the liquid courage coursing through your veins made your brain think otherwise. Maybe he’s changed, maybe now is different, were the only things running around in your brain as you unwillingly dialed his number into your phone. He answered on the fifth ring.

“Hello?” his voice was raspy and husky, like he’d just woken up or something.

“Rin-rin!” you excitedly gasped as you sat up and leaned against your couch.

“Y/N? Why are you calling me at three in the morning?” he sounded tired.

“I still love you,” you sighed into the phone, voice so low it was almost a whisper.

“What?” his tone made a complete 180—he now sounded awake as ever, “What are you talking about?”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for? What’s wrong Y/N?”

“I swear I don’t mean to be this way.”

“Y/N, don’t tell me...are you...drunk?”

“No!” the second you prolonged the vowel, he knew you were lying.

“Are you lying to me? Y’know best friends don’t lie to each other,” he said half teasingly and half sternly.

“Okay then let me ask you something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now.”

“Hm?” was all he hummed into the phone as you peaked his curiosity.

“Why did you reject me?” you knew the answer already, but you wanted to hear him say it, “Am I too cold? Am I not nice?” 

“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?” his voice was strained—like he was holding his words back, “You’re my best friend, Y/N.”

“Then if I can’t have you, is love completely off the table?”

Your subtle confession took him by surprise.

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

“Should I sit this one out, and wait for the next life?” you no longer had control over the words that slipped from your lips.

“No.”

“Am I not good enough to be more?” you choked out,

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? You know I’d wait for you until the sun burns out.”

Your words were like spears going through his chest. With every single syllable you spoke, a shiver went down his spine. He loves you. He really does, but he just has too much to lose.

“It always feels like I’ll be number two,” is what he finally said after a minute of silence, that was one minute too much.

“W-what?” your cheeks were hot and your heart started racing when you heard those words, slightly fuzzy through the speaker, “To who?”

“Someone you can’t hold anymore.”

Oh how badly you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, “I don’t want anyone else! I only want you! It’s you and it’s always been you!” but your throat tensed on the urge.

“Rin, if you let me in, I’m ready to give you what I couldn’t before.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he said nothing. The creaking of his mattress and rustling of his sheets were the only sounds coming from his end of the line.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here don’t worry.”

You were suspicious. That man was scheming something. Soon after a couple minutes of silence, you heard the loud clicks of...a door?

“Suna?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?” the room was spinning and you could barely keep your eyes open as you tilted your head back and laid it on the textile cushion of your sofa.

He smirked, “I got you. Let me help you through it.”

“What?” you slurred.

You heard the growl of an engine and dinging from the ignition turning on.

“Listen, I can love you more than I did before.”

“You don’t have to,” as the highs of your head were slowly leaving, you grew more anxious. Just what have you done?

“I’m sorry I couldn't give you my all, but I will.”

“HUH?” your eyes flew wide open when you finally registered what he’s been saying, “Are you in a car right now?”

“What if I am?”

“I swear to god Rintaro I won’t open the door.”

“Who said I was going over there?”

Your cheeks flushed red. You just assumed that, didn’t you?

“I’m just messing with you, Y/N. I have a key remember?” you smiled, the kind of smile where the skin around your eyes wrinkle. Not even your stupid ex boyfriend had a key.

“Will you be here?” there was a sense of longing in your voice, almost pleading.

“I’ll be there,” he promised as his car revved once more.

“I’m not yet healed already.”

“I know, baby.”

“I shouldn’t be going too steady.”

“I’m right here. Five minutes away.”

“C-can you hold me?”

“I will. Just be a little more patient.”

“I’ve got to get out of my head,” you whispered with a tone of urgency.

“What are you thinking right now? I’m pulling into your parking spot.”

You sighed with relief, knowing he was merely a moment away.

“What you’re saying doesn't mean you believe in it,” please don’t be out of pity, please don’t be out of pity.

Then the unexpected happened—dial tone.

“Hello? Hello?” you begged through the phone.

All of a sudden you heard a jingle and a click towards the direction of your door as you slowly lowered your phone from your ear to the floor.

“I’m never gonna leave you, baby,” said Suna, standing in the doorway.

As soon as you made eye contact with him, you bolted up, nearly falling over as the blood rushed to your head. He ran over to you just in time to catch you, and enveloped you in his big arms. You didn't realize how cold you were before his touch, heat radiating from his body to yours. You felt safe.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment—basking in each other’s missed presence. He then took your arm and draped it over his shoulder as his snaked around your waist.

“Let’s get you to bed, hm?”

“Okay.” 

He wiped the makeup from your face, having memorized your skin care routine, tucked you into your queen sized bed, and laid next to you.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m right here,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss into your forehead and rubbed circles into the small of your back.

That night, you fell asleep with a big, stupid, grin plastered all over your face, skin red from the alcohol and eyes puffy from crying. Everything felt like it was okay now that he was here. Listening to his heartbeat as you settled into your subconscious, hearing his last words to you made your heart skip a beat.

“I don’t think love is completely off the table.”

© all content [unless stated otherwise] belongs to gellysticks 2020. do not modify or repost.

reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

[yandere-daydreams]

Something with Kiyoomi Sakusa from Haikiyuu?? He just reminds me of Overhaul, but like hotter. And more sadistic. And hotter.

I don’t know a lot about this man, but he has the Bad Vibes we love to see. A germaphobe with a god-complex and some crushing anxiety to sweeten the pot… What more could you want in a ‘loving’ sadistic?

TW: Violence, Dehumanization, and Emotional Manipulation.

~

He liked to feel bigger than you.

You guessed it could’ve been worse. The basement was renovated, the floor covered in spotless faux-wood, and Sakusa made sure you kept it as neat as the rest of his home… or, you assume he did, at least, based on the few glanced you had of the upper floors you’d gathered over your months with him. He could’ve poured ice-cold water over your head, again, or gone back to forcing those little grey pills down your throat. This wasn’t so bad, in comparison.

You could live with this.

Still, your knees began to ache as you repositioned yourself for the thousandth time, attempting to find a stance that didn’t leave your legs sore and your knees bruised from the constant kneeling. You were relegated to the floor, but Sakusa felt free to make himself comfortable on your cot, pursing his lips as you nuzzled into his thigh, attempting to create the air of manufactured intimacy you knew would soften his resolve. In return, he ran a hand through your hair, his concentration devoted to detangling nonexistent knots and flattening imperfections you could never seem to find, on your own. He was good at that - pointing out all the things you didn’t were wrong.

He hummed as he worked, blunt nails scraping against your scalp gently, and you let yourself melt into the feeling, content to close your eyes and pretend you were anywhere else, with anyone else. It was the closest you got to happiness, when your world was infested with your captor, whether his presence came in the form of the gifts he expected you to treasure or the sparse furniture he blamed for ‘spoiling’ you or the clothing he provided, made up of jerseys and his shirts and anything he decided he wanted to see you in, your tastes be damned. The temptation to complain was still there, to cross your arms and refuse to cooperate, but you’d learned your lesson. As far as Sakusa was concerned, if you didn’t want to wear what he gaze you, you could wear nothing at all, and you’d sooner swallow your pride than be so exposed again. Exposure meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant inferiority, and inferiority meant you weren’t human--

“You’re quiet, today.” His voice broke through the gentle silence, drawing you from your thoughts like an owner calling the name of their favorite pet. You perked up, crossing your arms over his legs to better stare up at him, but you didn’t reply, letting him scan over you with the observant, prying gaze that never failed to make your skin crawl. You weren’t sure what he was searching for, but he must’ve found it, averting his eyes to the wall behind you rather than attempting to meet yours. “No screaming,” He explained, bluntly. “You haven’t thrown a tantrum in… How long has it been? A week?”

“Nine days,” You corrected, more than a little offended that he hadn’t been keeping a record as diligently as you had. Still, you smiled, melting into his palm as it came down to cup your cheek, his rough skin contrasting sharply with your own. “My back still hurts when I lay on my side. I want to wait for it to heal before I try anything that might make it worse.”

That earned a laugh, albeit a soft one, barely audibly by the time it was off his tongue. He cupped your chin, tilting your head back, guiding you to straighten your back and hold still as he leaned towards you, kissing the top of your head. “And now you’re strategizing,” He mumbled, giving you time to peck his cheek. He didn’t react, but a pink tint was slowly spreading across his skin, a nervous tic he couldn’t seem to shake. You used to think it was cute. Now, it just made you wonder if he was stricter when he was embarrassed. “You’re supposed to behave because you want to behave, y’know. Not because you’re biding your time until you can do something bratty and turn me into the bad guy.”

“I’m still behaving.” He moved to back away, and you strung your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you, if only to hide your face in his shoulder. Sakusa sighed, beginning to toy with the edges of your shirt’s collar. “You’re always talking about punishments and repercussions… That’s what you want, right? For me to be scared enough not to act up?”

There was a moment of stillness, a second where the only thing you felt was his warm breath fanning across your neck, but it didn’t last very long. Before you could do so much as separate from him, his fist was around your collar, jerking you back and onto your feet as he stood, letting you stumble for a proper stance before you were thrown to the floor. You tried to push yourself up, but your joints were sore and your whole body felt so weak, leaving the last traces of your hope to be crushed as Sakusa’s heel collided with your diaphragm, knocking the air from your lungs and lodging itself in your solar plexus, keeping you pinned as a sharpened, electric pain spread through your ribcage. It’d been sore for weeks, if not months. Maybe he’d take away your mattress, again. Maybe he’d leave you alone in this hell, again.

“It’s not about you being scared,” He spat, the sound echoing off plain, concrete walls. He ground his foot down as he spoke, pressing a whimper through your lips before forcing out an earnest, genuine cry as he landed a kick to the center of your stomach, not bothering to hide his disapproval of your lacking response. He wanted you to scream. He’d never be satisfied until you did. “It’s not about fear, it’s never been about fear. You don’t get it, you still don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry!” The apology was automatic, and you scrambled to shield your head, but it didn’t matter. Sakusa was never one for theatrics, he didn’t have to be. He new your weak spots as well as you did, from the burn that stretched over your shoulder-blade to your recently fractured ankle, the one that now held the majority of his weight, bringing tears to your eyes with little more than the basest hints of his strength. “Please, I just… I said the wrong thing! I didn’t mean to--”

“I’m doing this because I love you.” His voice was calm, and you curled into yourself, unwilling to let him see as ragged, empty sobs began to rack through your chest. Sakusa showed his sympathy with a clink of his tongue and little more. “I love you. I want you to love me back. That’s why I’m doing this. If you’re scared, it’s only because you deserve to be scared.”

The pressure disappeared, thankfully, replaced by an iron-clad grip around your wrist as he pulled you onto your back. Using his free hand, he caught your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. He didn’t try to look away, this time.

You wished you were brave enough to try.

“Clearly, you still need to learn your place.”

[freelancearsonist]

“I could play with your hair for hours” and “You’re more comfortable than the couch" with Llewyn if you could? They both just fit him so well-

Oh my god these work so perfectly for him!!

Warning: mentions of period blood and symptoms but nothing explicit

“Hey Llewyn?”

His head pops up at the tentiative sound of your voice. He can’t help smiling when he sees you. Maybe it’s stupid, but his heart flutters a little bit every time. He shouldn’t be falling for you. He knows it’ll only end up hurting him. Still, the way you look at him—like he has value, like he’s not a total low life—makes the pain worth it.

But then he sees the grimace on your face, and his smile falls.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?”

“I’m really sorry, and this is really gross, but I just feel terrible right now. It feels like I’m bleeding out through my vagina—I’m okay!” You quickly add when you see the frightened look on his face, “But I just really... y’know what, this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t-“

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, throwing out a hand as if he can steady you without really touching you when he sees your face contort in pain. “What were you saying?”

“I was just wondering if... y’know, I don’t feel good, and I’m kind of sore, and I was wondering if maybe you would lay with me for a bit.” You say it fast, like you’re embarrassed. “But you don’t have to. I just figured maybe since neither of us have plans today-“

“Hey,” he chuckles, quickly standing. “You take care of me all the time, angel. Let me take care of you now.”

He gently leads you back to your bedroom, which he’s only seen a handful of times.

And suddenly the weight of this situation falls on him. How could he be so stupid? He doesn’t make people feel better—he makes them feel worse.

But you certainly don’t seem to realize this as you crawl onto your mattress and pat the space beside you.

And if Llewyn’s stupid, he’s also selfish. So he settles into the space next to you and lets you guide his arms to hold you.

And then you groan.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it, his eyes cautious as you roll onto your back.

“I’m sorry,” you grimace. “It’s just... I’m sorry. This is really awkward.”

“Hey, no,” he quietly reassures you. “It’s okay, angel. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Your heart flutters every time he uses that sweet little pet name, even though it has no reason to. He’s one of your dearest friends, and maybe you harbor a little crush on him. But you don’t think he can possibly return your feelings.

“It just... god, it really hurts,” you groan, pressing your palm right below your navel. “There’s just a lot of pressure.”

Llewyn thinks for maybe three seconds, and then he shifts—he removes your hand from your stomach and replaces it’s with his head.

For a moment, you’re shocked at his sudden movement. And then you realize that his head is just the perfect weight to combat the pressure in your gut, and your pain is gone just as suddenly as it appeared.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

He looks up at you with those eternally morose eyes of his, and you brush a loose curl away from his forehead. The throaty groan he emits makes you giggle, and his face heats until he sees the adoration in your eyes.

Adoration. That’s dangerous. That shouldn’t be there—not because of him.

“I could play with your hair for hours,” you sigh contentedly as your fingers brush through his soft curls again. “Thank you for wasting your time with me, Llewyn.”

He chuckles at that. “No problem. You’re more comfortable than the couch.”

“I mean it,” you tell him sincerely. “I... god, I dunno. I’m just being stupid and emotional.”

“Hey, angel,” he whispers, bring a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “There’s nothing stupid about being emotional. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t tell you this.”

Llewyn shifts so he can look at you better. “Angel-“

“Llewyn,” you laugh softly. Your hand traces down, over his temple to cup his bearded cheek. “I’m probably gonna regret saying this, but I really hope it doesn’t ruin everything. I want to be more than friends with you.”

He pauses, because this is the last thing he was expecting from you.

And then he shifts upwards, hovering over you. He brushes your hair back, his warm breath fanning over your face.

“Can I kiss you, angel?”

You tug his lips down to yours by his shirt collar.

Comforting Cuddles Starters

[namsjunies]

iced // jhs

anon requested: Hoseok fucking you after a performance and feeling his rings/necklace brushing against you.

pairing: hoseok/female reader

word count: 1,209

tags: smut, idol au, gucci jewelry, blowjob, penetrative sex

ok this is definitely a rough draft, and i would’ve done more/have been less rushed if this wasn’t just supposed to be a blurb thing but, i really hope you enjoy anon

As soon as the door is closed, Hoseok turns to look at you with what seems like almost a predatory expression. It had been weeks since the last time you’d seen him in person, but you couldn’t exactly follow him on tour for 3 months. You were, at the very least, able to get the week off to see him at Metlife Stadium for the last two stops of the American tour.

He’d had an hour on the car ride back to the hotel to cool down, but you can easily tell he’s still buzzing with energy from the concert and it’s only the first night at Metlife. But, that energy and his excitement from both the concert and from seeing you after so long will definitely pay off. You’d only flown into New York the night before, and with how hectic the evening was and how tired you were, you didn’t do much aside from shower and go right to sleep when you got to the hotel. Now would be different. You smile as you peer up at him from your spot on the end of the bed.

“I missed you so much,” he murmurs as he comes to you, his hands finding their natural place on your hips as he sits beside you. He pulls you against him in a heated kiss, teeth grazing your bottom lip and a hand working its way up your body, from the small of your back to cup your face. He finds himself on top of you soon enough, pressing you into the mattress with his lips only leaving yours to replace themselves against your neck. Maybe you would think this is being rushed, but after weeks apart and plenty of catching up, you don’t feel bad letting this happen so quickly.

“I missed you, too,” you breathe out when you’re given the chance. You’ll let him take the reigns for now, you know he gets desperate when it’s been a while, but it also feels nice to just look up at him as he glances at you fondly between the wet kisses he’s pressing against your throat.

He pulls back then to slide your shirt up, some piece of merch he had given you to wear for the day, and finally pull it off over your head. He intends to continue his descent down the column of your neck, over your chest and tummy, but you stop him with a hand on his shoulder just so you can do the same and pull his shirt off, the same one he’d been wearing at the end of the show that was a little damp with sweat around the collar.

He chuckles faintly afterwards and presses a much gentler kiss against your mouth. As he hovers over you, his necklace, free from his shirt now, tickles your chest and makes you shiver as he leans down to get his hands around your back to pull your bra off as well. He doesn’t hesitate to tease your nipples with his mouth and his fingers as soon as you’re exposed to him. A pitched breath leaves your mouth under all the sudden attention, but for some reason all you can really think about is his necklace tickling your sternum. It’s probably Gucci or something else expensive, something he probably doesn’t even realize is affecting you.

He pulls back and glances back up to your face, “Oh, c’mon, I know you can be more vocal than that,” he huffs. You want to roll your eyes at his sudden cockiness, but you glance away from his face to gaze again at the necklace dangling in front of you like bait. So you take the bait.

You reach a hand up suddenly to grab the chain and pull his head down suddenly, slotting your lips together in a messy kiss. With the leverage you’ve granted yourself, you sit up as soon as you break the kiss and push him backwards, rolling him onto his back and climbing on top of him as you do. He looks more surprised than anything and you release your grip on the necklace.

“What about you? You can be more vocal, I know you can, just let me take the lead. I know you really want me to, baby.”

Hoseok blinks up at you like he’s still stunned, but he doesn’t seem apprehensive and a second later he’s just nodding. “I mean, yes. I want you to,” he answers.

“Good boy,” you giggle, moving off of him long enough to unbutton his jeans and push them down his legs. Then you’re straddling his thighs and pulling his cock out of his underwear. He’s half hard already and he bites his lip and just lets out a grunt as you stroke him up to his full length. He pushes himself to sit up so he can look down at you from a better angle, and you just look up at him and wink before you’re placing your mouth over the head of his dick.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, hand reaching out to curl in your hair, not so much guiding your movements as he is just wanting to get a hold on something that isn’t the rough comforter.

He lasts only a few minutes like that before he’s actually pulling your mouth off of him and instead leading you up to kiss again. “No, no, I don’t want to cum like that. Not that it wasn’t great or anything. But I want to fuck you.”

“And what happened to me taking the lead?”

“I don’t even care anymore, I just missed you, just wanna fuck,” he half laughs, half groans as he nudges you off his lap to tumble back onto the bed.

He hovers over you again after he takes off your pants like he had been in the beginning, and the necklace is dangling again, like you’re being taunted, but it becomes the last thing on your mind as Hoseok pushes your legs up to your chest and nudges the head of his cock against your entrance before pushing in.

His hands grip your hips with bruising force as he fucks you, and not only is his necklace dragging against your skin with every thrust forward, but the rings on his fingers are catching and pinching your skin just slightly and with the onslaught of both pleasure and those little pinpricks of pain have you whimpering vivaciously underneath him.

You’ve missed him tremendously, and you’re sure this combination of feelings for each other and anticipation to finally fuck in general has you both cumming much sooner than normal.

“Fuck,” you exclaim when you’re able to catch your breath and Hoseok lets out a snort from beside you. “Y’know, all your accessorizing, your rings and your necklace and stuff, definitely welcomed during this experience. I don’t even know but it just, it just works,” you try to explain, giggling softly.

“Oh, is that what all that was about? I hope I don’t have a bruise on the back of my neck,” he complains as he turns to toss his arm over your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, round 2 and I’ll let you take the lead, no need to use my necklace against me.”

[val-bananatine]

The grasp of hope (Melicia fanfic)

Title: La saisie d'espoir/ The grasp of hope

Pairing: Amicia x Melie (Melicia)

Genre: Romance

Rating: K

Overall word count: 8k +

Chapter word count: 3,030

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine but Asobo studios property. But I’m always happy to borrow these wonderful characters

____

Birds were chirping merrily on this early morning, a supposedly unusual sound after the Bite has still been raging just a week ago. The people who survived this catastrophe were still in shock, most of them still not able to believe that it really is over now. And so the soft chirping of the birds as the first rays of sunlight hit the surface was a very welcomed change for everyone; a sign of rising hope for some and a motivation to start a normal routine in life again.

But not everyone was about to go back to their old life again; some had to adapt to a new way of living or voluntarily grasped the chance of change.

One of those people was Melie, who was awaken by sunbeams shining through the window as the sun began to rise, announcing the start of the day at 6 am with it.

She groaned and squinted slightly as she carefully pressed her face into the bed, not wanting to wake up yet. But that try was in vain; realizing that she won’t be able to sleep more, she let out a quiet huff and turned her head around to face the, in her eyes quite mean, window instead of the bed’s mattress.

This sleep being the most peaceful and comfortable she had since she could remember was what made her feel rather grumpy about waking up. Wishing that she could have stayed asleep forever just to stay on this comfortable bed made the thief realize where exactly she was sleeping; and why she was.

It was thanks to Amicia. The thief stayed with the young, noble woman after the fight against Vitalis was won. A soft blush crept on the redhead’s cheeks as she thought back to the reason of her stay:

Flashback:

Melie was watching the scene in front of her with an overwhelming mixture of emotions. There he lied, the man who was responsible for her twin’s death, in the end killed by his own weapon under Hugo’s control. The rage and craving for revenge that she felt before suddenly vanished at the sight of his dead body and were replaced by a feeling of emptiness. Now that she got her revenge, the one thing that fueled her and motivated her to keep on walking forward, she now was facing the realization of an empty life without a goal. She was so focused on avenging Arthur’s death that she didn’t think of the future until now, of what she would now do without him.

‘The future has to wait a bit longer’ was what she told herself a few seconds later when she hurried over to Beatrice De Rune, who was about to collapse, to support her standing. Even if she’ll have to think about what to do sooner or later, now it was more important to take care of the current situation and its people, beginning at Lucas who already thought about a mixture to strengthen Beatrice, over to said woman and ending at the two siblings, Amicia and Hugo, who hugged each other tightly in shock and dawning realization of the hell finally being over.

Melie’s eyes were locked at the sight of the exhausted Amicia, who’s eyes were closed as she tried to calm her breathing and pulled Hugo closer to herself. The thief watched the two siblings with a mixture of worry and an aching sting of envy. But the latter disappeared in a matter of seconds, she was more glad about the two being alive and not having to go through the same pain she was going through now than to envy the luck they had. At least that was what she told herself so; and it was true, the painful loss just clouded her thinking and it took her a bit to regain the control over her mind.

Several minutes of silence passed until the thief decided to break it: “Hugo? Amicia? D’you need anything or are you two alright?”

Those words made Amicia blink at first, as if she was pulled out of a trance by them, before she shook her head and looked over to the group “Ah no, don’t worry… we didn’t get injured too badly.”

Both, Melie and Beatrice, let out a sigh of relief at that response and the latter whispered barely audible: “It’s over… it’s finally over...”

Lucas, who faintly heard her words, nodded slowly and sighed as well: “It’s hard to believe that it’s really done now… and that it’s not just a break like it was before.”

He looked around in the room, especially eyeing the two siblings before looking back at the weak alchemist: “But I think that we should leave this place now… Lady De Rune needs her wounds to be treated and a lot of rest, just like everyone else of us. And we can’t stay here too…”

Everyone nodded in agreement and slowly left the doomed place, careful to support Beatrice walking so that she didn’t get any more strained.

_____________

The group found the still intact ruin of an inn nearby, and luckily Lucas found herbs and other things he needed in an alchemist cart across the street so they agreed on staying there for at least the following day. Just like Lucas recommended, the group headed to sleep once Beatrice’s wounds were treated for the first of many times and after they all sat together to try and grasp what happened.

But the thief couldn’t even think about sleeping and so she quietly sneaked out of the front door, not planning to leave but just to sit down on the street, being thankful for the cold but calm night breeze which is said to help clearing one’s mind. She thought back to everything that happened, her mind getting stuck around two things, or rather two persons. The first of course being her brother and his death. Her heart ached at the image of how he lied lifeless on the ground and she felt the need to cry out in a way to realize the upcoming pain. She didn’t cry out; instead she found herself busy with the dreaded question of what to do now. And while the redhead thought about the possibilities, the second person in her mind gained a more important role in her upcoming plans.

“Amicia…” Melie didn’t notice how the whispered name left her lips, nor how the door was quietly opened mere seconds ago and how a certain person silently listened to the barely audible whisper due to being deeply lost in her thoughts.

Only when that person carefully put a hand on the thief’s shoulder after a few moments of silence, said thief winced slightly and quickly turned her head around to look into the worried face of the noble girl.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you… but you’ve been rather quiet since the moment Vitalis was defeated… and I wanted to check up on you- seeing if you’re alright after… you know…” A soft but concerned smile appeared on Amicia’s lips and she slowly sat down next to Melie, who faintly blushed at the worry of Amicia having heard her whispering her name; the appearing sadness dominating over the embarrassment though when Amicia mentioned Arthur’s death.

“No no… was just thinking. About him… and what to do now, y’know?” Melie didn’t understand why she immediately opened up to Amicia and told her what was genuinely on her mind, but she didn’t question it, nor did she want to question this as well now next to all the other things on her mind.

Amicia nodded slowly, showing that she understood what Melie meant, but not being sure about how to properly answer so she remained quiet. And so did Melie; she too was now silent as her mind wandered off once more.

So both girls were quiet for several minutes until Amicia hesitatingly began to speak again: “So… uhm- may I ask… if you have anything in mind…?”

Melie sighed quietly and shook her head “No- nothing… I just- don’t know,” she paused for a bit before continuing, getting quieter at the end until it was just a soft mumbling, “I’m not sure what to do… I wanna stay here, with you… and the others, you grew close to me… but I don’t know if I can take it, ya know? ‘Cos everything reminds me of Arthur, how he’s not here anymore… and how he was killed...”

Once she was finished letting her current thoughts out, her head found Amicia’s shoulder as she seemed to basically collapse from all her worries. And Amicia carefully put an arm around the thief while leaning her own head against the other girl’s in an attempt to give the thief some sort of comfort.

“In the end… you decide what is best for you, and that is the most important too… to do what helps you. But I can’t deny that I would miss you more than a lot if you would decide for leaving,” Amicia mumbled softly while leaning against the thief, her free hand searching for one of Melie’s.

Once her hand grasped the thief’s, she carefully squeezed it before continuing: “Even though I’d do that, I would still support you to the fullest and wish you the very best, just like I would if you decide to stay with m- with us. No matter for what you decide, it’ll be the best for you I know…”

Melie couldn’t help but to smile softly at Amicia’s words, feeling deeply honored and flustered by the care of her: “You’re always there for me… no matter what happens. You’re damn kind to me, y’know that?”

“Of course I am,” the brunette let out a soft laugh, “B-because I really care about you and your well-being… deeply care about it” but mumbled more the closer she got to admitting her true feelings until she failed to word a full sentence.

“Caring deeply about me…” Melie blinked and whispered it to herself, not really noticing the quiet nod from Amicia, who now was silently thinking about what she just said.

While the noble girl did want to continue talking and confess to the redhead next to her, she just couldn’t bring herself to it. She was refusing to tell Melie about her feelings, thinking that it wouldn’t be right of her to do so while Melie’s still grieving about her brother and to possibly influence her decision on staying or leaving with her confession.

But Amicia didn’t even need to take the first step into that direction. It was Melie who started to whisper after minutes of silence: “Y’know… I care a damn lot about you too.. you’re- probably the most important living person to me. That’s why I don’t really wanna leave, it would be like losing you… and I don’t think it’d be worth being away from this place.”

Amicia started to blush at hearing that the thief cared just as much about her in return, but her eyes widened slightly at hearing about being the only reason of a possible stay: “But Melie… are you sure about that? I- I don’t want you to stay for me if leaving from here would turn out to be what you should have chosen-”

She couldn’t question it any more though, because she was politely interrupted by a soft nudge from the thief, who nodded slightly confident at her when she turned her head to face Melie, who started speaking at that moment; the thief’s blush increasing more through her confession: “Yeah- I’m more than sure about it. ‘Cos… I do have feelings for ya which are way more than just caring… and I think it’s safe to say that those feelings are called love. Over the time we spent together- I really fell in love with you. So… leaving would most likely hurt more. ‘Cos… now that I think ‘bout it, I probably wouldn’t get a clear head from being away from the memories with Arthur. They’d just hit more and then on top leaving you behind… no. Wouldn’t be better.”

Melie was honestly not even sure where she was heading with her speech after she confessed. Once the hardest piece, the confession, left her mouth, it was like a plug vanished and suddenly she found herself letting everything out that was on her mind, even the rather confusing train of argumentation against leaving. And she prayed that Amicia still understood what she meant to say.

Much to the thief’s relief, the noble girl got a bright smile and blush on her face once she seemed to have grasped the fact that Melie confessed her feelings to her.

“I fell in love with you too, Melie-”

Those words were enough to make Melie smile widely and to let her mind practically spin, so it took her every bit of willpower to listen to the rest of Amicia’s sentence instead of immediately crushing her in a tight hug…

Flashback end

___________________

Melie got a huge smile again when she thought back to the moment where they confessed to each other, a blush joining her smile as she thought of their tender first kiss following after it. Not even realizing that she was lost in that happy memory since minutes, instead she found herself feeling happy and relieved about the outcome.

She remembered the following morning as well, when Lucas suggested to visit the De Rune’s estate to grab the leftover potions before they would all start to travel in a search for a new place to live.

But no one would have guessed that they could actually live there again. Hugo coincidentally bumped against the hardened black secrete of the rats, breaking it in the process and revealing that the substance beneath it looked as good as new. The thief also remembered how the group then proceeded to destroy more of the secrete, in the end even with the help of some villagers, to try and free the entire estate. It was a lot of work, but worth it at last. Because as everyone then found out, the secrete was simply a loose sediment above the surface of whatever it covered and therefore leaving that surface entire unharmed, except for any windows or similar that it broke through. It also dried out once the rats disappeared so that it was easy to remove.

And since then Melie stayed with Lucas and the De Rune’s at their house, all of them being visibly relieved of returning to their beloved home and not having to search for something unknown.

The redhead had to admit that she liked that estate as well and could understand why the others were so glad about it; it was different from everything she saw before and in a way it was something new and unknown to her like it would have been if she traveled away. It was just another reason why she was more than glad about deciding in favor of Amicia and staying with her instead of leaving.

Thinking once more about her made Melie carefully turn around to face the other side of her, where Amicia was still sleeping peacefully.

They were able to fully live in the estate since a few days and even though the thief has been sleeping next to Amicia every day since then, she still couldn’t help but to feel amazed by the view of the sleeping girl next to her and fact that someone noble like Amicia would really love her and want to be with her.

But every time she thought about the joy and luck she had now, there was a dark thought creeping up. And every time she thought about it, making herself upset with it as she couldn’t help but to think that it was true. Until now she always pushed that thought back once her lover woke up, the upcoming worry immediately being replaced by endless joy when the brunette showed her a bright smile.

Now was one of those moments again where Melie kept on thinking, and this time Amicia was still asleep, so Melie automatically thought more about it while she watched the noble girl with a small smile. Said smile turned into an upset one as she thought about the difference between them and she let out a soft sigh, followed by a barely audible whisper: “Am I really the right one for you…?”

That was the thought, which haunted her since the group has arrived at the estate. The thief’s mind kept on reminding her about their class differences, which she was able to shrug of as not important, but the moment her mind brought up ‘You’re just a thief, how could you ever make her truly happy?’ was the moment where she started to think about that, worrying that she indeed couldn’t give her everything that she deserved.

“I wonder… Am I good enough for you…?” Melie bit her lip when a sob threatened to escape her mouth and she turned her head to look down on the mattress instead of the beautiful face in front of her, “What if not-”

She was silent for several minutes, her mind deeply clouded by all the upcoming worries and the fatal thought which made her sigh and look at Amicia once more.

“I- I’m sorry Amicia…” Again she whispered so quietly that it wasn’t audible for anyone but herself before she carefully sat up. Her movements being as slow and quiet as possible to not wake the sleeping girl up.

Melie looked back at the bed once she was standing, the view of Amicia’s soft smile making her hesitate to continue moving. Her mind started to clear up a bit and she began to doubt that she has decided for the right thing, but the worrying thought ‘What if you’re going to upset her with staying... not able to give her what she deserves?’ was enough to cloud her mind once more and make her sneak silently but quickly out of the room, leaving her lover behind without another looking back; she knew that she couldn’t bear to leave then.

~To be continued~

Part 2

[poeticallyunkind]

Valentine’s Day - Whizzvin

Marvin Blumenfeld had always hated Valentine’s day. He thought of it as something artificial, a holiday used by the corporate world to exploit the devotion of lovers for a quick profit. The gaudy, over-the-top cards and pricey chocolates never failed to bombard him throughout the month. He couldn’t even board the subway without roughly one thousand advertisements displaying these overpriced sentiments. Every year, words such as passion or romance lost their meaning as the holiday ran its course. Love was replaced with frantic purchases and a competition between partners for the best gifts. He could only roll his eyes and watch as the couples around him were blinded by capitalism, prioritizing expensive trinkets over their relationships. Simply put, Valentine’s day was meant for love. Why did love have to equate to empty wallets?

To much protest from his lover, Marvin had flat-out refused to allow Whizzer to take him out on a date this year. In the past, Whizzer had gone all-out with dozens of candles, flashy gifts, and even surprise weekend getaways. He held an opinion on the holiday that almost directly opposed Marvin’s; he was a sucker for all things red, pink, or shrouded in generic hearts. It was a source of tension that seemed to reappear as though it were clockwork. Their arguments would always morph into something unique as the holiday grew closer. Instead of the occasional petty fight, they’d bicker over whether or not to buy the latest gift that Whizzer had been eyeing. And as exhausting as it was to listen to the taller man list reasons regarding why the couple should own an oversized teddy bear, it was admittedly heartwarming to see Whizzer care so much.

Still, there was the problem with the gift-giving. He hated burdening Whizzer’s wallet. Marvin appreciated the effort to no end, of course, but letting his boyfriend blow hard-earned money on items that would soon end up forgotten was out of the question. Neither man could tell you just how long their arguments lasted, but Christ, were they intense. While Marvin cited alternative, inexpensive ways to celebrate the holiday, Whizzer had his heart set on several ideas of extravagance. Both were shocked when-- sometime in the stretch of hours leading up to Valentine’s day-- Marvin came to a decision. This year, it’d be simple. A day spent nestled in their apartment, thankfully without a single box of chocolates or bouquet of flowers in sight. No surprises, nothing spent. Together. Just the way that he had hoped.

--- 

“God, you’re amazing,” Marvin huffed, watching rays of soft light pour in through the curtains. He noted how cold air drifted through the thin window panes with ease.

They were currently in their bedroom, bare limbs entwined after a wonderfully intense morning together. Marvin hadn’t expected to wake up to his lover’s lips pressed gently to his neck-- and soon to other areas of the body-- but it wasn’t as though he was complaining. Both were out of breath, inhaling as their ecstasy slowly melted into a sense of content. His appearance was something akin to cliche-- messy hair, tinted cheeks, and hickies dotted along the collarbone. He ran his fingertips through Whizzer’s hair, a habit that always seemed to crop up after sex.

Whizzer’s head nuzzled into Marvin’s chest, inevitably making the shorter man’s heart pound. “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.”

All in all, not a bad start to Valentine’s day. Getting intimate with the man he loved was something he could appreciate on any given occasion, but something about doing it on a day devoted to romance made it borderline magical. Then again, it may have just been post-orgasm bliss talking.

“Honestly, I don’t see why you fret over buying expensive gifts,” he started. “That was better than anything you could even hope of finding in stores.”

Whizzer scoffed. “Oh, stop. We agreed not to talk about it anymore! You know how badly I wanted to buy you those Gucci pants, and I’m still--”

“I’m not letting you drop two hundred dollars on a pair of pants.”

“Hmph. Someone clearly doesn’t appreciate having a boyfriend with taste,” Whizzer lulled, caressing Marvin’s chest. “You’d look so hot in the clothes I wanna buy you.”

Marvin continued to toy with his partner’s hair. “That’s the thing, though. I really don’t want you to buy them for me, especially over a holiday like this.”

“What, did you not like them or something? You clearly said you liked them in the store!” the taller man insisted.

Marvin paused. “It’s not that I didn’t like them…”

“Then what was it?”

“I just didn’t want you to waste your money on me.”

Whizzer suddenly tensed up beneath his touch. “God, please not this again.”

A frown appeared on Marvin’s lips. “What are you talking about?”

“Jesus, Marv, I’ll never understand why this puts you in such a sour mood. You’ll let me buy you a thing or two at any other point in the year, but the second I even suggest something romantic in the month of February…” Whizzer trailed off.

Marvin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Baby, I’ve told you this countless times, but I really can’t express just how stupid it is that we, as a species, decided to twist a day that was devoted to showing affection into a corporate cash grab.”

“Oh.” Whizzer’s tone teetered dangerously towards sadness. The word lingered uncomfortably in the air, as if there was more to be said.

Tilting his head, the shorter man pressed a kiss to Whizzer’s forehead. “Come on, please don’t be like that. What’s on your mind? I can tell there’s something you’re not saying to my face.”

“I was taught not to talk if I didn’t have something nice to say,” he replied thinly. It wasn’t until he began to inch out of Marvin’s grasp that another word was spoken. He moved to the side, gripping the edge of the mattress with both fists.

“Whiz, are you really that upset over not buying me a gift?”

“Yes!” he finally groaned. “There, I said it. Are we done yet?”

Another moment of silence passed. God, the clock hadn’t even managed to pass eight, and they were already bickering. Not even a full ten minutes ago, they were practically giddy. Now, Whizzer looked as though he were on the verge of screaming.

“Baby,” Marvin cooed. “I can only help if you tell me why you’re feeling this way.”

Whizzer sulked at the edge of the bed, gazing absently at the floorboards. “It’s a pretty stupid thing to be upset about, now that I think about it.”

“What do you mean?”

An inhale. “I don’t know. I just feel… weird about it, I guess. Like I’m not being a good boyfriend. You basically treat me like a prince all year long, and what the hell do I give you in return? Sex? The occasional meal? It just doesn’t seem like enough, y’know?”

Marvin gaped at his boyfriend, slightly bewildered. He had never so much as considered the idea that Whizzer could feel inadequate. His wonderful, loving boyfriend. How was it even possible for someone so perfect-- perhaps his favorite person in the world-- to feel that way?

“And Valentine’s day,” he continued, a nervous smile tracing his lips. “is usually when I try to do something that shows you just how much I care about you. Sure, there are things like Hanukkah or your birthday, but Valentine’s day has always held a special place in my heart. It’s for lovers, after all. And I love you.”

Another deep breath, and Whizzer soon came to a conclusion. “I know that you’re not a fan of watching me spend money. You probably think that I’m wasting it, actually. But to me, treating my boyfriend well isn’t a waste of money, baby. You’ve done tons of things for me, and I feel like I haven’t done a goddamn thing for you. I try to show you how much I adore you on holidays like this because I clearly don’t do it enough, Marv.”

Sounds of traffic came from the street below; it was a cacophony of honking and engines and skidding tires. That was the only perceivable noise. No words. Just his lover, sitting at the edge of the bed, looking as though he was ready to collapse. Marvin could only stare wordlessly, failing to find the right syllables to describe just how wrong Whizzer was about himself. So, in a moment of pure desperation, he said the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re wrong.” The sentence was accompanied by a quick tug at the taller man’s hand, pulling him back into Marvin’s embrace.

“I’m not,” Whizzer responded dryly. Still, he accepted the hug. “But thanks.”

Marvin groaned. “Whizzer, stop deflecting my words. Just listen to me.”

“I don’t--”

“Shush! Whiz, you realize that I love you more than almost anyone, don’t you?” Before he could be interrupted, he quickly interlaced his fingers with his boyfriend’s. “I love you for who you are, not for what you bring to the table. And you’ve done plenty to let me know that you feel the same. Valentine’s day isn’t about buying flashy gifts or expensive dates, it’s about loving each other. Staying beside me through hard times, caring for me, committing to what we have together -- those are the things that have made it more than clear that you love me. You have nothing to prove, baby. I love you, and I know you love me back. There are no gifts required.”

Whizzer’s expression became somewhat complex as Marvin concluded. For a moment he thought that he had upset his partner, based on the gut-wrenching tears that began to stream down his face. All of a sudden, though, Whizzer bit back a genuine, lovelorn smile. He buried his face in Marvin’s neck, his words becoming borderline unintelligible as they tickled his skin. Still, he was positive that he knew what his boyfriend had said.

“I love you.”

Perhaps Valentine’s day wasn’t so bad after all.

[perlukafarinn]

another 14x02 coda bc my brain just would not shut up!

edit: now on ao3

Dean won’t ever admit it out loud but there was some part of him that thought he knew what he was getting into when he said yes to Michael.

He’s used to wielding his body like a tool. To hunt. To save people. To make money in whatever way an unskilled seventeen year old with no parental supervision could. 

But being a vessel was different. Riding shotgun in his own head, feeling his limbs move without permission. Seeing his body being used to hurt people. To kill them. And that was only when Michael allowed him close enough to the surface to see.

Dean hasn’t slept through the night since Michael left. He keeps waking up in cold sweat, his muscles twitching with the memory of actions Dean had no control over.

He’s never been so helpless before. The Mark was in the ballpark but even that is nothing compared to giving his body entirely over to someone else. The closest Dean’s ever felt to this complete loss of control was in hell, when Alastair’s hand guided his knife. But that’s mostly because it made it easier, pretending that it wasn’t really him doing it.

He keeps expecting it to happen again. For Michael to somehow take charge, despite everything, and ride his body off to kill more people for a flimsy excuse of a cause. And he keeps remembering over and over how he forced Gadreel into Sam and then the feeling of helplessness is replaced by a wave of self loathing.

Which, y’know, is at least a change of pace. 

Dean doesn’t talk to anyone about it but he knows they can tell. They’re all waiting for him to snap. Worst of all is Cas, with those huge worried eyes that follow Dean around the bunker. He’s dying to help and he could probably give Dean some advice on how to cope with having an archangel ride your ass to hell and back, but Dean can’t bring himself to ask.

He can’t even look at Cas without seeing Jimmy Novak.

*

It’s another restless night. Maybe some other time, Dean would go to the shooting range or the kitchen, find some way to distract himself. But the bunker is stuffed full of people, most of whom rarely sleep through the night, and Dean doesn’t feel like talking to anyone.

He heads to the garage instead. It’s stupid, with how much he missed his home and his room and his memory foam mattress, but right now Dean’s craving the comfort of Baby’s back seat.

Only it’s not empty.

Dean briefly debates turning around and sneaking back to bed, pretending he never left it. But Cas already knows he’s here and Dean can’t avoid his best friend forever.

He climbs into the backseat and Cas wordlessly scoots over to accommodate him. For once, he’s not looking at Dean, instead staring straight ahead, shoulders ramrod straight.

Dean clears his throat. “Couldn’t sleep?”

It works, a little. Cas’ posture loosens and he glances at Dean, smiling half-heartedly. “I suppose not. What about you?”

“Nope.” 

Dean wonders if he should mention the nightmares. Maybe showing that little bit of vulnerability would be enough to break the tension between them right now. It might be worth it even though he’s sick of feeling so vulnerable all the damn time.

But it's Cas who speaks first. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“I’ve been avoiding everyone,” Dean says, which is true, but it’s also an excuse and one Cas sees through right away.

“You won’t even look me in the eye.” There’s accusation in Cas’ voice now, and hurt. “I don’t understand.”

Dean shrugs, tucking his arms close to his chest. “I dunno what to tell you, Cas. It’s different.”

“What is?”

“Once you’ve been a vessel.” Dean shrugs again. There’s a lump in his throat already. He’s not ready to be having this conversation. “It’s different.”

Cas is quiet for a while. Dean keeps his eyes down, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt between his fingers. It’s thin cotton, and he’s already feeling a little chilly from sitting in the garage. 

"What do you want from me, Dean?" Cas asks. "Do you want me to feel guilty about taking a vessel? Because I already do."

Dean sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly aware of just how bone-deep exhausted he is. "No, that's not- I don't want anything from you. I don't know why I said that. This whole thing just blows. I barely know how to use my own fucking body anymore and I can’t stop thinking about what it feels like, having someone else wear it like a goddamn suit and using it to kill people.”

“Dean...”

“And I thought I hated being myself but let me tell ya, being someone else I don’t have any control over is so much worse.” 

Dean pauses, gut clenching in shame. He doesn’t need to tell Cas that, he already knows what it’s like. Jesus fucking Christ, what is he whining for? Sam and Cas have both been through this, Sam more than once, and you don’t see them crying about it. When did he get so weak?

“I just get what it’s like now,” he finishes. His voice has gone hoarse. He doesn’t want to be here anymore but he doesn’t know how to leave without making Cas feel even worse about the whole shitty situation. 

“I’m sorry,” Cas says.

“Not your fault.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

Dean swallows. He glances back at Cas, feeling like a fucking coward when their eyes meet and he has to look back down immediately. 

Cas reaches his hand out and it’s all Dean can do not to flinch when he cups Dean’s cheek, gently turning his head to face him. He keeps his eyes downcast, closing them when Cas leans in and kisses him. 

It’s the first time they’ve kissed - hell, it’s the first time they’ve touched - since Michael.

It’s good.

It’s good and Dean is so fucking relieved he wants to cry. The chaos in his head clears, the mess of Michael and Jimmy Novak and a body that’s still his but isn’t just disappears into the soft press of Cas’ lips against his. For one blissful moment, Dean’s mind is silent.

Then Cas is pulling away. Dean opens his eyes again, immediately caught by that familiar blue, and just like that the doubt is creeping back in. 

“It’s just me,” Cas says quietly. “This body isn’t a vessel. Not anymore.”

“But it used to be.”

Cas doesn’t answer. Doesn’t deny it. He just lowers his hand, settling it awkwardly in his lap. Dean stares at it for a long while, feeling at once too much and nothing at all.

He’s just so fucking tired. 

Finally, Dean gives. He moves, scooting in his seat so that he can lay down, legs crammed against the Impala’s door. Cas doesn’t protest. He just lifts his hand, allowing Dean to lay his head in his lap. He keeps it raised for a few moments, then slowly, uncertainly lowers it, palm warm against Dean’s scalp and his fingers combing gently through his hair. 

Dean closes his eyes again. Lets himself relax, and even though he’s cold and crammed into way too small a space it’s the most comfortable he’s been in weeks.

He sleeps through the night and he doesn’t dream.

[taronfanfic]

ABER

Masterlist

Chapter 5

Following Taron into the bar was nerve-racking. It felt like everyone turned to look at you to see who you were and what you were wearing. This definitely wasn’t your scene. You copied Taron, taking a glass of champagne from the tray the waitress was holding and taking a large sip, hoping the alcohol would give your self-confidence the boost it desperately needed. Taron moved further into the room, smiling confidently and casting warm hello’s at everyone he passed on the way. You followed closely behind and kept your head down, avoiding making eye contact with anyone in case you were accidentally drawn into a group conversation without him.

“Hey! Great to see you again, thanks so much for inviting me down tonight!” Taron greeted the film director who was dressed casually, unlike everyone else in the room.

“Glad you could make it, and bring a friend too.” The director looked over to you and reached out to shake your hand.

“This is Y/N, she’s a very old friend of mine who is accompanying me for a few months and writing some pieces for her blog along the way.”

“Hello.” Was all you could offer as you shook his hand quickly and then returned to your drink, mentally cursing Taron for making you sound better than you actually were.

“You’re a blogger? How fantastic. What sort of things do you write about?” He asked with interest.

“Oh, erm… I’ve only just started really so I don’t think I’ve found my niche yet. Anything and everything.”

“Right, right. Well best of luck with it!” That was that, the conversation moved very swiftly back to Taron, the film, friends and colleagues they had in common. From the sounds of things Taron didn’t need to be doing any schmoozing, he was well in there! You finished your drink and got hold of a second glass, enjoying your position in the dark corner of the room and how it gave you the perfect vantage point for people watching. Picking out the +1’s was easy; there were the bored husbands eyeing up the waitresses, the even more bored girlfriends who were just there for the photo opportunities, and then there was you, mentally writing a truthful blog post about how events like these are a pretentious waste of time.

“See, told you it wouldn’t be that bad.” Taron returned his attention to you as the film director was distracted with a new arrival, but you didn’t get him to yourself for long.

“Taron! Long time, no see.” Another random man appeared and pulled Taron in for a hug. “How are you doing?”

“Yeah man, I’m good, things are good. This is Y/N, she’s travelling with me for a few months whist she works on her debut novel.”

“What!?” You almost choked on your champagne as Taron introduced you with a line of utter bullshit. He gave you a wicked smile as the man turned his attention to you and let out an impressed noise.

“Author, eh? What’s an intelligent girl like you doing with this idiot then?” He joked.

“I was in need of inspiration for one of my characters who’s a bit thick between the ears and Taron was the first person who came to mind.” You replied, feeling pleased with your comeback and casting a smug smile back to Taron.

“Oh she’s good!” He replied to Taron. “I’ve got to run, but enjoy the rest of your evening and we’ll go for a beer soon!”

“Nicely done, dickhead. You can go and get me another drink for dropping me in it like that.” You pushed your shoulder into the side of Taron’s arm disgruntledly.

“That was an impressive comeback though, get thinking of some more because this game is going to become very amusing.” He walked off to get two more drinks and you were left rolling your eyes. Of course this was a game; throw you into a conversation with no warning about what your job title might be and see if you can bullshit your way back out of it! You worked your way around the room and survived being a chef, a nurse and even the least flexible yoga instructor in the world. The more ridiculous Taron made the jobs and the more champagne entered your system the easier things became. You were well past the point of caring what people thought and genuinely enjoying the in-joke Taron had created.

“I’m gonna make you an offer.” You placed your hand to Taron’s shoulder and pulled him back from approaching the next group of people. “I’ll introduce myself this time, and if I can make you laugh with my job title and survive the interrogation about it, we can leave straight after and get back to the hotel.”

“I think that’s a fair deal. You’ve been very impressive so far, passed with flying colours in the art of bullshitting.” 

“I’ve learnt from the best.” You confidently left Taron behind and approached a group of 4 men, slotting straight into their circle and introducing yourself. “Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m here with Taron tonight” You stepped to the side to allow him to join the group. “I work for the UK Space Agency and we’re on the same fitness programme at the moment.” You looked across to Taron who was struggling not to spit his drink out.

“Oh wow, so what is it you’re in training for?” The man to your left asked straight away.

“I’ll be going up to the international space station in a couple of months.” You nodded back before casting a smug look in Taron’s direction as he covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stop himself from laughing. The conversation continued for another 5 minutes with you being quizzed on how this linked in to the film industry and what scientific experiments you’d be completing on the space station. Thankfully Taron jumped in to save you just as you started to get the giggles.

“Our car is outside so we’ll have to leave you to enjoy the rest of your night.” He took hold of your hand and led you out the bar, bursting into laugher as soon as you were both outside.

“The international space station!?”

“Why settle for the ordinary?” You giggled back, not letting go of Taron’s hand as you made the short walk back to the hotel.

Back in your room you slipped your heels from your feet and revelled in the comfort of the flat floor as you collected a glass of water. The top three buttons of Taron’s shirt were open as he started to walk towards you. His fingers lifted the top of the glass out of your grip and placed it down on the table. He hadn’t said anything yet and you were left watching him closely, wondering why he wouldn’t let you sober up.

“Confidence looks sexy on you.” He spoke softly and you immediately dropped his eye contact, focusing instead on the skin of his chest and the heat from his body as he moved inside your personal space. His lips pressed firmly to yours as his fingertips paused on the side of your neck and softened your urges to resist him. The feel of his mouth slowly opening had you mirroring his move, your tongue waiting to feel his and responding quickly when it did. It was so long since you’d last kissed someone like this that you were desperate to keep it going, fearful that Taron would pull away and have a face full of regret. His hand lowered from your neck across your shoulder and down your arm, taking hold of your hand and guiding it down to his crotch, making you feel his erection through his trousers. All those images of regret disappeared from your mind and were replaced with nothing but filth. He wanted you, he was ready for you, and your throbbing core was firmly taking control of your actions.

As you gripped at his length through the fabric you felt him pause the kiss, an involuntary moan filling your mouth instead as Taron started to pull back.

“Don’t you dare leave me hanging tonight.” He warned as he opened his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Which version of me would you prefer? The author, the astronaut… probably the nurse but I’m afraid I don’t have the outfit.” You teased back as you moved his shirt off his shoulders and ran your hands down his chest.

“No outfits needed for what we’re about to do…” his words stirred up a stronger fire in the pit of your stomach. You’d spent all night pretending to be anyone other than yourself but in that moment you could only be you. The wave of confidence you were riding was something else, allowing you to drop your dress to the floor in front of Taron and press your body tightly up against his as you kissed him seductively. “Get on the bed.” He ordered as he dropped his trousers to the floor and collected a condom. Eyeing up his body was instinctive as he walked round the room in his tight boxers. The champagne fuelled haze block out your negative thoughts, leaving nothing but lust and desire. You discarded your underwear off the side of the bed then lowered your back down to the mattress as Taron prowled over you. A powerful kiss to your lips matched his strong gip on your thigh as he pushed your leg further to the side so he could position his hips. Everything burnt with pleasure as he thrust into you with deliberate power. It was fast and desperate. Your body rocking against his as you let him take you from above. Groans and moans left his open mouth as he worked towards his release. There was a moment when you caught him smiling down at you, enjoying the fact that he was the one making you screw your face up in pleasure. You couldn’t help it though, he felt amazing. With every thrust your body responded, screaming out in delight. The fast pace was relentless, his hips slamming into your frame over and over as he filled your core. Your orgasm shot round your body sooner than you’d have liked but Taron didn’t seem to care. He slowed his rhythm and worked you through it with skill before coming shortly after.

“Y’know, I don’t think I fancy another night on the sofa.” You turned over to face Taron as he got into bed beside you after cleaning up.

“I’d be pretty offended if you did after that!” He reached out and pulled you in closer to his side.

“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight, thank you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He kissed you a sweet goodnight and you happily settled down against his arm.

Tag List: @egerton-sweetie @amanda-tallmadge @lizziespidiepridie​ @leanimal90 @anantheminmyheart22 @aynsleywalker @bohemianrhapsody86 @butterfliesslugswormsandothershi @manners-maketh-taron

[oneshot-twoshot-redshot-blueshot]

Heart Like Yours, Heart Like His

For @becaamm ‘s challenge.

Here’s the song

*Tony-centric

______________________________________________________________

“I hate this.”

“I know you do.” Tony watched as one of his little robots (one of the ones you called ‘cute’) rolled out to the car, bag in hand. “I hate it too, y’know.”

“Do you really have to leave?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t.” Tony turned you towards him, his hands heavy on your shoulders. “Y/N, I promise, these next few days will go by quickly.”

“I know. I know.” Four days. Tony was only going to be gone four days.

It was stupid, freaking out like this. You’d never really had such a connection to anyone before. Previous boyfriends were just… distractions. Ways to pass the weeks, months, years. But once you’d met Tony… everything had changed. You were so dependent on him. Not physically or financially (though he did like to spoil you), but emotionally.

“You sure you’re going to be all right here by yourself?” Tony asked, drawing you from your own thoughts. “I can get someone to come stay with you. Natasha, or maybe Vision.”

You shook your head. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Tony smiled. Just then, his watch beeped: it was time for him to go. He pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead before stepping out the door.

“I’ll call you!” he said.

“You’d better.”

______________________________________________________________

Tony flopped back onto the mattress. The hotel room was cushy enough, but nowhere near the comforts of home. Reaching blindly into his bag, Tony felt around until he felt the cool metal. He pulled out the picture frame and held it above him, studying the picture he’d looked at for hours and hours.

It was a picture of you two from the night you’d dragged him to the carnival. You’d insisted that people went to those for ‘fun’. Tony had let you drag him all around, to all the food vendors, to all the rides. In the midst of your fun, a sullen teenager asked you two to pose for a photo. Tony hadn’t wanted to, but you’d pulled him into you, your faces pressing together so that he could feel your smile against his cheek.

Tony loved this picture. He’d scanned it and made a digital copy, so it would never be lost, but whenever he had to go on a trip he always brought this physical copy with him. Silly as it was, it made him feel closer to you.

“FRIDAY, call Y/N.”

Tony listened as the call connected, ringing on the other end.

“I was wondering when you were going to call,” you said, smile in your voice.

“What, did you think I’d forgotten about you?”

“Amnesia is more common than you think.”

Tony smiled. “I could never forget about you.”

______________________________________________________________

The two of you talked well into the night, but Tony eventually heard sleep creeping into your voice. He said goodnight, promising to call you tomorrow.

Once he got settled in bed, Tony plucked the other piece of home from his bag, this one involving a bit of tech. He lay there, in the dark, curled around the pillow that held your heart.

Well, your heartbeat.

Tony had manufactured this piece a few months ago, before his first trip away from you. Inside was a heart monitor, one that was connected to you. No matter where he went, when he touched this pillow, he felt your heartbeat.

You had one at home, connected to a heart monitor he was wearing.

Tony closed his eyes, feeling the rhythmic thumping of your heart. Anytime he felt this, anytime he looked at that picture, anytime he simply thought about you, the same question popped into his mind: how could a heart like yours ever fall for, ever connect to, ever love a heart like his?

______________________________________________________________

You lay in bed, running your hand over the pillow Tony had made for you, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm. It was a poor replacement for the actual thing, but you made do.

The pillow beneath your head smelled of Tony’s shampoo (you knew he knew that you slept on his pillow when he was gone, but he never seemed to complain). You were also sleeping in one of his t-shirts, trying to surround yourself with him.

In another life, if it was anyone else doing this, you would’ve called them pathetic.

But you knew what it really was—love. Tony had opened your eyes to this sensation, this way of life.

And you never wanted to close your eyes again.

[nxctcaelum]

One Step Closer

@rubatosiis​ / @mumsthewcrd​

    The air was tense, that much Noctis could sense. But it was less for the reason that he would expect and more entirely for the frustrated grunts and grumbles coming from across the room. He looked up languidly from the plans he’d been sifting, watching Prompto tap at his screen with the most vexed expression. He sighed. That project was a massive deal, and he could tell, if not from the fourteen times Prompto had mentioned it today, by the litter accumulated around the blond. Discarded, furiously crumpled cans, a small stack of cups that had once been filled with coffee, the veritable library of reference images and help guided that the boy had accumulated for his ease of use...

    Noctis had tried to explain that creative block was normal. Not that he was much of a creator, but he’d been known to pen a few short stories or poems in his time ( none of which were available to the public and all of which were hidden in his notebook, securely stowed beneath his mattress, a very safe and secret place to be sure ). So whatever this collage or whatever it was that Prompto was not making, staring at it and aggressively tapping his screen wasn’t going to make it better. 

    His eyes flicked down to the plans once more. Yup, those were seating charts. His father had asked his opinion, as Noctis’s attendance was mandatory at such events despite his schooling. And while the prince appreciated the gesture, he wasn’t going to be able to get much comprehension done as long as he was more focused on--

    A book fell from the couch, snapping shut loudly, and Noctis shut his portfolio in front of him in tandem. Okay, he advised, and Prompto shot up from his hunched position on the couch at Noctis’s voice. Break time. Now. Stand up.

    The blond looked quizzically at him, then deflated a bit, shaking his head. Can’t, I’ve gotta--

    You’ve gotta stop beating your laptop to death. What’d it ever do to you?

     Prompto shifted in his seat. ... sorry.

     Rolling his eyes, Noctis stood from his seat at the kitchen table. Okay, so leaving Prompto to get up on his own was no longer an option. He walked across the room, reaching into the blanket that the other had curled into and snagging his arm. No sorry, no option. Up.

    ��It was with little grace or dexterity that Prompto finally did stand, shaking his leg out of the tangled entrapment of the blankets. Noctis lead him back a few steps in the open ground of the living room, holding both his hands as he did. Fine, fine, I’m up! Impatiently, he looked to the prince and scowled. Where are we even going?

    Noctis smirked. Who said anything about going anywhere? he insisted. I said break time. 

    His stress must have been more prevalent than he thought. Surely Noctis had expected Prompto to relax a bit at his tone, to accept his fate and entertain him, but his scowl remained. I’ve got fourteen hours and-

    And you’re gonna get an A brutalizing your equipment?

    Well I’m not going to get it not--... doing... that...

    Noctis sighed. Look, twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, and I’ll help you get that thing done. Deal?

    Prompto cocked a brow, clearly nonplussed. You don’t know the program.

    So I’ll make it fun.

    Meaning you’ll screw it up.

    Fun.

    Failing.

    Relax.

    My whole semester--

    Look, twenty minutes? C’monnnnnnnnnn--

    It was not often that the prince got to use his eyes- you know, those eyes-, but in moments like this, he was glad that he could. Noctis was never something he would label as cute, but apparently his pout was actually pretty effective. And he could see Prompto’s resolve wavering like a house of cards in a light breeze. Three... two.... one...

    Fifteen. Fine. Can’t hurt me that much.

    Noctis grinned. Thought you’d come around.

    Prompto scowled, taking a hand away from Noctis and smacking it. Like you gave me an option.

    You’d never survive in sales.

    You’re not even a salesman!

    You ready for next weekend?

    Ahhh, now that stopped him. Prompto stared at Noctis for a moment, mouthing ‘next weekend’ as if the motion would jog his memory. Noctis wouldn’t prolong his suffering. The benefit. At the Citadel? You told me you’d go with me. Noctis had even asked his father if it was alright. He’d been advised to exercise discretion, bringing Prompto to a public venue. And he would. That did not mean he’d let Prompto off easily.

    The other sighed, dropping his head. Ahhh-- not yet. Ignis said something about a fitting?

    Noctis rolled his eyes. Yeah, still gotta do that too. Don’t worry, the tailor’s cool, but also, not what I was getting at. Taking a step back, he looked the other up and down. You ever danced?

     And for a moment, Noctis had to wonder if he’d actually said something wrong. It was an innocent enough question, wasn’t it? And he hadn’t said it in a weird way; least he thought he hadn’t. But Prompto almost looked baffled, like Noctis had so much reared back and hit him with his portfolio of colors and decor. .... what’d I say?

     Prompto snapped out of his reverie, shaking his head.  N-nothing, I just.... Noct... I- I can’t? He lifted a hand, tapping his ear with an almost meekness. Kinda hard, y’know?

    Oh. Oh right-- that... Noctis felt a rising of heat on his cheeks, momentarily discouraged. But... his moral flipped, discomposure replaced with a crooked grin and confidence. That’s why I’m here. C’mon, I’ll show you.

    H-hang on- Noct-!

    Relax, he insisted. Honestly, such a stick in the mud sometimes... He resisted as Prompto tried to pull his hands back, shifting them into the hold that he’d been taught. Honestly, Ignis had been so strict with instruction, but at least Noctis could be confident now- muscle memory guided him to the first position, one hand at Prompto’s waist while the other sat delicately in his hand. Poise. He remembered how adamant the Adviser had been on poise and the natural fluidity of motion in his teaching. And looking at Prompto, that was not going to happen. The blond stood in rigid contrast to the royal. Noctis maintained a languid smile. Just follow my lead.

    But I-

    Noctis tugged him closer, pressing his forehead against Prompto’s and closing his eyes. He could hear the other gulp. Just follow my lead. He wasn’t going to let him fail. And so he lifted his foot, delicately tapping Prompto’s opposite. Halting and uncertain, the blond took a step back, and Noctis  took initiative.

     He wasn’t going to lie- Prompto was awkward and uncomfortable. The motions were unnatural, as one would expect, but that was fine. Because it didn’t take long to at least attain some semblance of flow, a motion that swept them in small, controlled circles in the middle of the dorm room. No music, no words, just a combined sequence of steps that Noctis dragged Prompto in. After a few minutes of calm silence, Noctis pulled himself back, continuing to guide the other in tow. 

    See? What’s so hard about this?

    Prompto blinked- oh, he’d closed his eyes too? That could have sucked. One of them ought to have been watching if they were going to run into something- oh well, no harm done. Noctis smiled, though, at the way Prompto seemed to grow. There was something in Prompto when he was like this- an innate light that Noctis could have sworn would blind anyone who walked into the room. He had a certain brilliance in him that showed in his smile, in the excitement he drew from every thing that he did. And that ridiculous laugh that spilled out of him, the way that it bubbled out of him- it was contagious. The only music he needed... Noctis snickered too, but stopped when Prompto interrupted, I just never thought I’d do this kind of thing.

     They slowed, eventually crawling to a stop, but Noctis didn’t release his hold. Guilt wound through him like a crawling vine. He took it for granted; really he did. His upbringing, his sense of normalcy. And he’d not even considered- it hadn’t even occurred to him... He pulled Prompto closer, now, flush as he wrapped his arms around his waist. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was certainly not a dance hold. And he buried his face in Prompto’s shoulder. It took a moment for Prompto to catch up, returning the gesture and nervously adding, Now what’d I say? with a little trill of a laugh.

     Noctis wasn’t the sort to coddle. To make excuses. He was lucky, so lucky, that he and Prompto shared the connection that they did, and to that end... Noctis owed him so much. So he did the only thing he could-  he leaned back, smirking as he rapt his knuckles over the top of Prompto’s head. You’re not getting out of this. I’ll sing to you if I have to. He was a bridge, a connection; Noctis could seal the gaps, bring aspects of Prompto’s life to him that perhaps he wouldn’t have access to otherwise. If that meant a little embarrassment... 

     Prompto paused, seeming to debate something before settling on a wolfish smirk. Serenaded by a prince? Aren’t I lucky~

     With a groan and an eye roll, Noctis smirked and tugged away from Prompto. It’s been fifteen minutes. You’ve got things to do.

     No, no, no, but now I’m invested! You said you’d sing~!

    With a scowl, Noctis leered sidelong at Prompto. He looked so excited, so expectant. And for a moment, it was a stare-down. Whoever blinked.......... ehh, Noctis would blink. This wasn’t a competition. And besides, he had an ace... A moment more of silence, and Noctis grinned.

        ♪ It’s a small world after--  ♪

    The pillow flew before Noctis could finish the first line. So, perhaps he’d be taking just a bit longer than fifteen minutes...