#be having to backtrack 3 steps just to get the thought back

[negrowhat]

The frequency in which I lose my train of thought should be studied.

[morbidlcve]

bunny love ⋆.ೃ࿔* (❀)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 0.91k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ requests: OPEN

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: mentions of the red room, Natasha’s past, insomnia (if there’s anymore please let me know!)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ AN: hi so… i’m sorry for the inactivity, i had a lot going on and college was kicking my ass, i wrote something short yet cute and i hope you like it!!

Natasha Romanoff is not one to love openly. For most of her life, she has been reclusive and private. She is not one to gossip about what she just did, who she just saw, or what she saw someone doing. She’s a mere bystander in her own life if you will. Her life now (in stark contrast) still hangs within her. Her need to be closed off, untrusting, and unworthy still hangs within her.

Until she met you (clique, I know), it’s true. You brought her out of her shell and taught her that needing and wanting love is okay. It was rocky, the start of your relationship; many times when you wouldn’t talk for a few days, hence the reclusiveness, but she’d come back to you. You wouldn’t hold it against her, heavens no. After all she went through and the significance of the relationship you were building with her held, no, you were patient and accepting. Even if it did make you a little overwhelmed with the mood changes now and then, it was all worth it.

Every sleepless night you would endure, either waiting for her to come home or staying up with her when her thoughts got the better of her, working out (spectating) until she got tired and you took her back to bed. Every little argument you guys found yourselves in. They were minor things really: Natasha returning from a mission injured and not going to medbay, leaving you to insist that you take care of her. Natasha becoming adorably annoyed at you when you don’t send her a good morning or goodnight text (she was based in Europe, and it was still 3 AM for you), so you would have to make it up to her with lots of cuddles when she got back. Little things really.

Over time, especially with your unwavering patience and understanding) Natasha would slowly grow to become ever so slightly bolder out of the comfort of her or your room. For example, she would make your lunch and leave you a little note in the container (and crucify anybody if they were to eat it), rest her head on your shoulder when you guys were in the living area or sit on the opposite end of the couch with her feet in your lap. Baby steps.

Behind closed doors, Natasha was the most delicate person you would ever encounter, truly.

She would be so unbelievably tentative and nurturing and not at all who people think she is.

Her soul lost to the monsters who tainted it and ruined her girlhood, not giving her a chance to fight for herself. She told you she wouldn’t change what happened to her; it has made her so much stronger, and she wouldn’t be where she is today if it hadn’t been for her history. She embraces it. She’s stronger now, and it won’t happen again.

Through all the terrors of her childhood, you’d think she’d be afraid of any form of intimacy or contact. She was at first, she wasn’t clear of your intentions, she was weary. But when you came into her life, full of love, admiration and patience, she backtracked. Of course it scared her, she’d never known love like the one you were more than willing to bestow upon her. But over time, it became a sanctuary for her, a haven, a place where she could shed her masks and her troubles and show her vulnerability, and it was such a beautiful sight.

It was amazing to watch the woman who used to ghost you every time you dropped a compliment become the woman who would come home to you and just lose herself in you. Whether it was gentle loving she needed or reassurance, you were her rock.

She learned that not all people were out to get her, not everyone holds her past against her.

Her favourite way to show you how much she loves you and how much you mean to her is definitely acts of service. She will be the one to make your coffee in the morning, just how you like it, ensure that your towel is warm after your shower, and put your bookmark in your book if you fall asleep reading.

She knows you better than you know yourself. After years of watching people’s behaviour, she picks up on subtle changes in your demeanour or mood. You must believe that she will do anything in her power to help you if she can.

When you truly got Natasha to feel comfortable with you, she would always be on you, your shadow, unless she got called away. Her hand was always in yours, her hand on the small of your back, her hand on your thigh, her hand combing through your hair. You were her life source. You fell first, but you cannot deny that this woman fell harder.

She cannot express how much it means to her, you waiting for her, not giving up on her, she owes you her life, she would say, you saved her for the better.

You also have your downs like every single other person in the world, and it’s Natasha who pulls you back to her. You could be crying, and she would wipe your tears away, her forehead pressed against yours, hands cupping your face, telling you that you’ll face it together.

You were made for each other, so opposite yet so the same.

[munsonsreputation]

the tiger

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [5.4K]

warnings: warnings: semi proof-read, no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has *secret survival skills,* k!lling the guards who are attacking stevie + friends, fire, mentions of blood and death (don't worry it ends with fluff <3), (partly inspired by 'dot' in fargo s5)

Summary: Thrusted into the unknown of the Upside Down and otherworldly creatures that came with it, you finally had a reason to let the tiger out of its cage and to everyone’s surprise they never thought you had it in you to save their lives and the world.

“You have five fucking seconds to tell me where they’re coming from!”

Your voice clamored vociferously, standing above one of the obviously now dead guards that had been tracking your boyfriend and his friends around Star Court for god knows how long.

Had Steve not left the stupid walkie talkie on, you wouldn’t have heard the beseeching cries and shouts that had rung through the device while you were sitting at home having a day to yourself as you waited for him to clock out of work.

The second you heard the code red, your fight or flight activated, hopping onto the channel as you tried to get filled in on what was happening. Perhaps a robbery or even a lockdown, but what you didn’t expect was to hear your boyfriend tell you that there was a secret Russian Base under Star Court and the girl he babysat was now their prime target.

They were coming for the ones you loved and you’d be damned if they even laid a finger on any of them, let alone the love of your life.

You were a woman of many skills: you knew how to cook up a good roast dinner, could play a few songs on the piano if you tried hard enough, and you even knew how to hot wire a car in case of emergencies.

But you were also a woman with many tricks up her sleeves: guns hidden in the floorboards, a deadly mean quick hand, and most of all a tiger that had been kept in its cage for too long and now the perfect time to set her free.

Steve’s mouth was held agape, staring up at you shellshocked and confused, as did everyone else. The last thing they expect was for you to throw yourself into danger with them, and most of all to see you with a gun in your hands ready to go to war—a war where one enemy's life was already taken.

“W—what….baby, what, I, h-how?” He stammered weakly, pulling himself to sit against the wall, limbs still aching after all the torment he endured.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was the drugs still in his system, making him see things. But sure enough, this was real life, and you just killed a man right before his eyes.

“Y-you just killed him.” He swallowed thickly, watching the floor pool with blood, which got progressively bigger, prompting everyone to scoot away.

You wrung your neck, lowering the gun to your side, nudging the corpse with your foot just to be sure he was really gone.

“He tried to kill you all first.” You defended, shaking your head at the scene, still in disbelief that this was the circumstances.

Time wasn’t on your side and clearly neither was the slim hallway they were hiding in. Despite everyone’s consternation, you knew it wasn’t the right time to explain any of this on your behalf. Every second counted, and you needed to get moving before the enemies zeroed in.

You stepped over to Steve, stooping down to his level, your eyes locked with his softly. Sympathy leaking from them knowing he went through hell, but your voice was a grim contrast that was needed for the moment.

“Look, you need to tell me where they’re coming from so I can help. I can’t get us to safety if I don’t know where they’re coming from. Tell me, Steve… now.”

You thumbed his chin mildly ordering him to focus on you and not the dead body on the ground.

His jaw trembling in your touch, eyes moving from side to side checking the halls.

“T—the back exits. We tried to get out but then we had to backtrack because that guy found us.” He gulped, hurtling his eyes to the body.

You took a deep breath, dragging his face back to you to begin surveying his injuries. His lip was busted open, dried blood coating the skin around his mouth and making a trail all the way down to his neck. The skin around his eye was swollen, a pale yellow settling against his tan skin that would surely turn all sorts of blue and purples.

“They did a number on you, huh?” You whispered, glancing down at his knuckles where fresh blood clung to the skin. He obviously put up a good fight before you arrived.

“But he finally won a fight! He knocked one of the guards out!” Dustin expressed, somehow still a little jubilant despite the mere fact that their lives were on the line.

You huffed out a weak laugh, dropping your hand from his face and turning to survey everyone else. Robin looked to sustain the same injuries as Steve yet a little less severe. Unlike Steve, she was still high on whatever drugs they had given her. You could tell by her dilated pupils alone.

For the most part, all the kids seemed to be in good shape physically. They showed no signs of injury, just sweat dripping down their foreheads and chests that were breathing heavily still disturbed up by the chaos.

But it was El whose pant leg was saturated with blood that instantly had you concerned. She sat with her back against the wall, weakly resting her head on Max’s shoulder while Mike clasped her hand. She looked about ready to drop, weak and drained of all her might.

“What happened to your leg?” You jutted your chin out, inching over to her and silently asking for permission, which she granted, and you swiftly tugged on the cuff of her jeans.

Lucas scratched his neck, face twisting when you exposed the gory laceration.

“A Demogorgon kinda attached itself to her and when we tried to get it off, it took some skin with it.”

“A demo what?” You asked bewildered, looking around at everyone for some sort of explanation that they clearly couldn’t give you right now.

“It’s basically the big evil creature that’s out to get El.” Will clarified, saving you from the technicalities of it all.

“But there’s also Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, which is out to get us…or actually, specifically El, right now,” Dustin reminded, as if you would know what any of that meant.

“I have so many questions,” you mumbled, eyes closing, trying to fathom the absurdity before opening them wide and taking a deep breath.

“But right now, I need to dress this wound before she bleeds out.”

Everyone agreed, moving close to get a good look but enough to give El space to breathe. You looked around, wondering who would best to stay on lookout while you were busy. Steve was obviously still rattled, and you were positive Robin nor Jonathan would be good with a gun, so you decided on Nancy.

She surprisingly knew a lot about guns, a suspicious amount to make you think she knew exactly how to use one.

“Can you use this?” You looked over at her, holding the weapon up as she nodded with confidence, holding her hand out for it.

“Watch both ways and if you see anyone, shoot until you’re sure they are dead.” You advised, handing it off to her before you crawled towards the dead guard.

They kept their eyes on you, observing you work the belt through the pant loops and take the pen from his shirt pocket, scurrying back to El. Contorting the belt into a loop around her leg, you fastened it tightly, apologizing under your breath when she whimpered, trying to keep her cries muted.

You tucked the excess leather around, taking a deep breath when you looked up at her after wedging the pen between the material and her skin. This part was always the worst, but it was for the greater good of her health.

“It’s gonna hurt, but I need to do this to make sure you don’t bleed out anymore than you already did, alright?”

She nodded, readying herself against the wall, closing her eyes tightly, reaching for Max’s hand and gripping it tightly You gave her a quiet countdown before beginning to twist. They all hushed her cries all while you didn’t stop until it was sheath-like, knowing it was the only way for the blood to clot and temporarily seal the wound.

“All done.” You patted her calf, dusting your hands and standing up.

With how much time you all had already wasted, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the guards found you in the only place they hadn’t searched. You had to think quick, walking over to the corpse and working the sling of the gun off his torso and draping it over yourself before you searched the rest of his pockets.

“Jonathan, here.” You shook a taser in the air, tossing it to him.

“Robin, this is for you.” A mace spray was put into her hands and the long distance aspect was going to be great.

“And baby, this is all yours.” You reached into your own back pocket where another gun was hidden, holding it out for him as he took it, inspecting the weapon and looking up at you surprised.

“Where did you even get this?” He gawked perplexed, somehow searching for answers instead of focusing on making it out alive to ask said questions when your lives weren’t on the line.

“It’s a long story, but I’ll catch you up when we make it out here, yeah?”

“What about us?” Dustin declared, arms held out wide wanting to get a super duper cool weapon like everyone else.

You reached around your waist, slipping off the walkie and tossing it at him. “Get on the emergency channel and give them our location and say there’s been a fire at Star Court and that we’re locked in.”

“A fire? Wouldn’t it be easier to just radio for Hop?” Max suggested, but you shook your head with a heavy sigh, giving everyone the unfortunate news that the easy way out wasn’t a possibility anymore.

“I called the station before I got here and Hop is nowhere to be found. The rest of the staff thought I was having a psychotic breakdown. I doubt they’re gonna believe Russians and some enormous creature are trying to take over Hawkins.”

Hope began to fade from their faces, but you knew you could get everyone out despite the odds—they just had to trust you.

“Look, I’m gonna lead and make sure it’s clear. When I say clear, I want you to run straight as fast as you can and when I say duck, you get down where you are and you do not move. Understood?”

They all nodded, beginning to move themselves off the ground, ready for your command. You led the pack, crouching low to hide behind walls peeking around the corner ensuring it was clear to which it was.

“Clear,” you whisper shouted, stepping out of the way and ushering all of them to keep moving, shuffling against the floors and doing their best to keep their movements fluid and quick.

“Duck,” you shouted a little louder, successfully making it to the main floor of the food court.

“I can hear them,” Erica muttered, eyes darting up, signaling that they were close by, and continuing to move would blow your cover.

“Give me something.” You mouthed, holding your palm out towards Lucas who speedily reached into his back pocked providing you with a slingshot and a small pebble.

“What are you doing?” Steve whispered.

“Causing a distraction and getting us back in the clear.” You murmured, attempting to get your aim just perfect.

Pulling the rubber band back, you held the rock securely, steering it towards the second floor, hoping it would reach far enough, only having one take. Before you could second guess yourself, you let it rip, watching the rock soar through the air, just barely making it over the railing and clanging against the metal, causing the shouts of the guards to echo in the empty mall.

With them distracted in the opposite direction, you gestured to everyone to stick close, needing to get as far away as possible.

“C’mon, follow me,” you whispered, crouching as you crawled toward the food court.

Steve followed closely behind you, gun cocked and ready to fire if there was a sudden attack, but his mind was clearly still trying to process everything in front of him.

“I can’t believe this is happening. Are you like a spy or something?” Steve hissed from behind you, causing you to turn your head over your shoulder, glaring at his outrageous question.

“No, I’m not a spy Steven.” You jeered, shaking your head before diverting your attention back in front of you to lead the pack.

“Then—then how do you know all about this stuff?” He argued still trying to keep his voice low despite the gnawing fear and uncertainty lingering in his mind.

You two had been together for quite sometime, and Steve figured he would have at least an inkling of knowledge that his girlfriend had the survival skills of a trained professional, let alone having the ability to kill someone cold blooded.

“I told you I was a girl scout when I was younger.” You retorted.

“Girl scouts sell cookies! They don’t know how to work guns or survive through a world takeover.” He remarked unbelievably.

Lucas who lurked too closely behind his beloved babysitter, nudged at his neck, eyes going wide as he spoke in defense of you.

“Are you really questioning her skills right now? She just killed that guard and saved our lives.” He argued, narrowing his eyes at Steve wondering how he could think this was the right moment to debate you.

Steve swallowed, shaking his head and catching up to you. “I’m sorry okay! I’m just confused and lost and—”

“Duck!” you shouted, pulling Steve's arm and throwing yourself onto the ground as gunfire started, screams and shouts ringing out as you covered your head and tried to shield yourself from any stray bullets.

“Oh, my god! We’re gonna die! We’re so gonna die!” Robin shouted, holding her hands over her ears, pinching her eyes shut tight, as if her last moments on Earth would take place any second.

“Robin shut up! You’re not helping!” Max scolded, clamping her hand over her mouth to keep her quiet as the gunshots slowly quieted and their voices faded.

“Stay here!” You demanded quietly, gesturing at all of them to stay low and close.

Listening in, the guards diverted towards the opposite direction, giving you all a moment to breathe and recoup for a few seconds.

Dustin looked over at El, quickly spitting out top secret information. “El can help, she has powers!”

At that point, you didn’t know what was real life and fantasy anymore. The lines were blurred and no matter how much you wanted to wake up and believe it was all just a surreal dream you knew their lives and yours were at stake for you to waste any time questioning the boy.

You sucked in a deep breath, eyeing the girl who sat weak and defeated, eyes communicating the want to help, but she physically couldn’t.

“She has a messed up leg. I doubt we want to put her in more danger by letting her use her… powers.” You reasoned with a sigh, passing her an understanding look. Everyone hopelessly agreed.

There was no time to waste and the best bet you had at escaping was eliminating as many of the enemies as you could. Tugging at the strap of the gun around your body, you quickly released the magazine, checking the bullets and debating your choices.

They watched you carefully, as if you were doing mental match before you clicked the magazine back into placed and nodded to yourself.

You glanced at everyone, beginning to brief them on the plan.

“In the meantime, call for help and everybody else stay here and do not move until I say clear. Got it?” You said, watched as Dustin picked up the walkie, whisper-shouting for help as everyone else nodded.

“W-What about me?” Steve gulped, eyes twinkling with a need to know how he could help—or it could’ve been the aftereffects of the drugs making him hallucinate.

You reached out, patting his cheek fondly despite the circumstances.

“Watch my back and don’t let me die.” You responded.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He nodded promptly, holding the gun into position, a little more confidently this time knowing he couldn’t let anything happen to you.

With no more time to spare, you scrambled off your feet, leaving them behind the protection of the counter whilst you stayed hidden behind a concrete pillar.

With the mess of debris on the floor, you stomped hard on a Coca-Cola can and kicked it away. The sound of aluminum screeching across the floors and grabbing the attention of the guards who you were trying to lure onto lower ground to be on your playing field.

Your friends winced at the sound, but they didn’t let out a peep, following your directions carefully. They listened intently, picking up a few voices from the top floor muttering as their footsteps pounded against with every step, trying to figure out where the sound had come from.

“Stay down.” You mouthed to them, giving them a final warning as you took a deep breath.

If you were correct, their blocking would be in a single file row, hoping to cover as much ground as they could and spread the gunfire as opposed to clumping up. You had to be stealthy and fast—and boy, were you good at that.

“Over here, assholes!”

Firing a single shot into the air, footsteps and shouts traveled down the broken escalators, bullets and gunfire echoed through the mall as you held your breath and braced yourself.

You kept the gun parallel to your shoulder, finger steady over the trigger as you ducked down and away from the pillar, moving left to right as you fired in quick sequences, watching as their bodies dropped in tandem with each bullet that pierced through them.

Steve couldn’t see any of the damage you had done with counter acting as an obstructed view, but he could see your every move. The curl of your lip and the squinting of your eyes as you moved across the floors smoothly, as if this wasn’t your first time.

If he didn’t know any better, he would think he was falling in love again.

“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaimed, immediately standing up when the gunfire came to a halt, forgetting that he was supposed to wait for your all clear.

“Bitch!” A gruff voice spat harshly, from the floor, a wounded guard who was inching towards his gun causing everyone else to scream panicked.

“Shit!” Lucas cursed, reaching for his friend’s arm to pull him down.

“Get down, you dumbass!” Max added, tugging harshly at his leg, until he fall on top of their bodies causing groans.

“Relax!” you shouted, firing off a single bullet—your last one, as you finally stood up straight.

“Now he’s dead.” You said, letting your chest fall with a relieved breath as you made your way over to the scene, nudging the guard with your foot once more just to be sure he was decimated.

Slowly your friends creeped up from their hiding spot, mouths falling open and foreheads creasing with disbelief as the guards laid lifeless as if it wasn’t a fair fight. You were unharmed, in perfectly mint condition, gesturing your friends to come out while you made your rounds and seized the weapons from the dead.

“So this mind flayer thing that after El…” You huffed, bending down to flip over a guard and remove his rifle from his body.

“How do we kill it?” You asked, hurling the empty gun away from your body and replacing it with the new one.

Your question fell on deaf ears, as they were too caught in trying to process what the hell just happened, and the fact that you were acting so normal about it.

“Are we really skipping over the fact that there’s about a dozen dead Russian spies laying on the ground right now, that you killed?” Mike finally broke the silence, threading his hands through his hair trying not to throw up at the scene.

You glanced back at them, still rummaging through the pockets and creating a pile of weapons for them to pick through and use.

“Yes, I killed them.” You rolled your eyes, standing up straight and crossing your arms over your chest. “Now can we move on and find a way out of here, because I’d really like to avoid another gunfight.”

“Fire. It doesn’t like heat.” Nancy replied hastily, ignoring her little brother’s attitude, as she went towards the pile, picking out her own weaponry knowing you were right.

“Okay, well, does anyone have any ideas?” You diverted your eyes towards everyone else, happy that at least Nancy was at least attempting to get into the right headspace.

“Is the professional killer really asking us?” Mike retorted crudely, looking you up and down as if you were supposed to solve every problem in the world.

“Oh my god, would you just stop!” You snapped back, prompting the rest of the kids to smack their friend over the head, chiding at his indifference.

“You need to stop being a smartass. She just saved your girlfriend’s life and all of our asses, too.” Erica retorted, shaking her head as she walked off, picking up a taser from the pile, and smirking down at it.

You closed your eyes tightly, fighting off a migraine that was surely going to take full effect soon, not having the patience to prepare yourself for a deadly monster commie battle on a Friday afternoon.

“Guy’s focus, we need to find a way to kill this thing and then get out,” Jonathan interjected, snapping everyone back into reality, beginning to brainstorm.

Steve’s eyes darted towards the top level of the hall, the bright red letters catching his attention, and soon enough the idea sparked like a light bulb.

“Babe…the Supercuts.” He spoke quickly, pointing upstairs as everyone else tried to put together what he was getting at.

“What?” You furrowed your brows, waiting for him to explain.

“Hairspray, it’s flammable, and they’ve gotta have like a gazillion cans in there, right?” He laughed half-heartedly, hoping he wasn’t just being a dingus.

A smile creeped onto your face, thankful that his obsession with his hair had another purpose.

“I never thought I’d say this, but you’re a genius, Harrington.” Robin sighed out with a weak laugh, running her hands through her hair as she walked in circles, waiting for you to give them directions.

“We’ll split up. One group will go get the hairsprays and the others will go find lighters.”

You and Steve raced up the broken escalator steps, with some of the kids following behind you both. While Nancy and Jonathan went off to find the fire source.

It was like an assembly line, you and Steve picking up boxes of the hairspray and sending it along as each kid passed it down to the ground floor, wanting to reduce the amount of trips taken up and down.

Jonathan and Nancy were able to find a few lighters hidden in the jackets of the guards, though they surely were disgusted with the thought of basically robbing the dead. Even Dustin and Erica managed to rip apart some of the concession stands, lugging out the propane tanks, knowing they would help tremendously if they wanted to burn the Mind Flayer to ash.

El, despite her injury, aided in opening the boxes of hairspray. Running a pocketknife along the taped seam and pouring out the bottles for easy access. It only took a couple of minutes before you all finished up with the task of gathering the materials and other helpful stuff that was scattered across the dirty mall floor, waiting for the game plan.

“How do we lure this thing in?” You caught your breath, brushing back your hair, hoping this supposed monster wasn’t too scary to handle.

“Blood, but I don’t think using El would be smart right now. She’s low on energy and her powers might not be as strong as they were before.”

Mike looked down at his girlfriend’s leg that was still in obvious pain as she apologetically smiled at everyone desperately wishing she could help.

You reassured her with a gentle nod, sticking your hand out towards her, asking for the pocketknife that she apprehensively handed over to you, well aware of what you were going to use it for.

Holding it in your dominant hand, you held your breath, ready to slice through the palm of your opposite hand.

“What are you doing?” Steve’s eyes widened, immediately grabbing your wrist and stopping you.

You shook your head at him obliviously, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

“What does it look like? I’m going to lure him in.”

“You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going to let my girlfriend be the bait for this monster.”

“Steve, I’m going to be fin—”

“Look as much as this lovers quarrel is a bit entertaining and slightly endearing, we have very little time left and if we don’t get a head start on killing this thing, then there’s no way in hell any of us is making it out of here alive.” Dustin interrupted, tapping his foot on the ground and holding up his wristwatch.

You sighed, relaxing in Steve’s hold. Your eyes softening as he met yours doubtfully not wanting to put you in danger more than you already had. But deep inside, you and Steve both knew that the best bet of getting out alive was letting you take the lead, and you needed him to trust you.

“Let me do this, please? You’re always playing hero and fixing everything. Let me take over for once okay? I trust that you won’t let anything happen to me, so if you see me struggling, I give you full permission to step in. But please, just let me have a go first.”

You brows pulled together, attempting to get through to him despite understanding his justified resistance.

Shutting his eyes tightly, and letting out a deep breath, his fingertips loosened over your wrists before he nodded and looked at you once more.

“F-fine, okay! But the second, I don’t feel comfortable, I’m stepping in and no one better stop me.” He turned around, pointing a stern finger at everyone else who nodded without a second thought.

“Let’s get this rodeo on the road.”

The kids were instructed to move to higher ground, none of you wanting them to be harmed in the crossfire to come. They were equipped with a few bottles of hairspray, lighters, and duct tape to create their own version of a hybrid flamethrower-molotov that they would chuck down at the Mind Flayer.

Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan were behind the same Orange Julius counter that shielded them a short while ago, while Steve insisted that he stick a few feet closer to you but still hidden behind the concrete planters.

There was no time to die.

Sucking in a deep breath and holding it, you slide the knife across your palm, watching as the blood began to pool and your arm started to tremor.

“Come and get me you asshole!” You shouted, wincing while you held your arm out, attempting to lure the monster in with the smell of your blood.

It came like a rolling thunder from a distance, a loud roar crushing through your eardrums causing you to drop the knife, bending down to pick up your gun while the mall lights began to flicker and the deafening screeches came closer before the glass shattered above you.

“Fuck,” you grimaced, throwing yourself onto the ground, clutching your arms around your head, attempting to shield yourself from the falling debris.

But the glass was quickly the least of your worries with the sight of a subhuman creature stomping towards you. It looked beyond barbaric, mottled skin of some sort dripping with an icky substance as its razor blade like mouth opened and resounded something frightful in the air.

You had to kill it…or at least try.

Struggling to grip the gun tightly with your injured hand, you did what you could, firing multiple shots into the mouth of the creature, watching as it shrieked sharply and its legs jerked into the air. But despite not letting up on the trigger, the monster didn’t seem phased, still stalking its way towards you and running out of bullets you knew you didn’t have enough time to reload the magazine.

“Fire!” you shouted, throwing the gun away and crawling towards safety where Steve was holding a hand out to you.

“Come on!” Steve yelled, rushing out into the open without thinking, tightly grabbing your hands and essentially pulling you across the floors before the fire could swallow you whole.

You could feel the heat just a few feet away, the mixture of the flamethrower-molotovs combined with the gunfire being set off created an infero that popped and sizzled away at the monster with each cry resulting in a limb being weakened and dropping to the ground.

While you were too busy watching the scene in front of you, Steve was more worried about you, just nearly escaping a death trap that he would have never forgiven himself for. His back hit a stop, sliding down the wall as he wrapped his arms around your frame, shielding you from the wreckage as the monster’s cries slowly died out with the heat burning it to ash.

“We need to go!” a voice yelled from the top floor, the children racing down the escalator steps with El being carried out by Max and Mike.

“This place is going to burn down, let’s go!” Robin slid out from behind the counter towards you and Steve, tugging the both of you up, before running towards the nearest exit.

“I got you, baby. Come on.” Steve whispered, hauling your body into his arms, hurrying towards the doors where Jonathan and Nancy held it open, waving their hands and shouting for you both to hurry.

His footsteps didn’t halt against the pavements, wanting to get as far away as he possibly could, worried the Mind Flayer would somehow survive the blazes and come back for you now that you were the new target. Running across the street, they all collapsed onto the ground, eyes widening as the entire mall became engulfed in flames and sirens began ringing through the open air.

Steve managed to set you down on a patch of dying grass, hands traveling across your clothing and skin, trying to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“Are you okay? Did that thing hurt you anywhere? Talk to me, c’mon.” He pleaded, clutching your cheeks in his hands.

Your lips push out harsh breaths, eyes filling with tears as you coughed out roughly.

“I—I’m fine,” you whispered, swallowing through the dryness in your throat.

“Just a little cut…see?” You managed to crack a joke, weakly holding your bloodied hand up as you blinked and the tears flowed down your cheeks.

Steve huffed out a wobbly chuckle, shaking his head at you before kissing your lips, not minding the sting in his open wound, focused on the relief that you made it out alive. You kissed back passionately, not knowing what you’d do with yourself if you found out Steve or any of your friends were hurt badly, let alone killed in Star Court.

The sirens got closer, a helicopter radioing in from above you, causing you both to pull away and look up at the flashing lights with soldiers being airlifted down.

Everything was going to be ok.

“You’re going to tell me how you’re so good at saving my ass and killing, right?” He asked, diverting his eyes back to yours twinkling with a slight bit of tease.

“As long as you tell me everything about this Upside Down crap?” You replied, with a languid push on his chest not caring about the bloody stain you left on his Scoops uniform.

“Promise.” He nodded with a grin, pulling you in for another kiss that drowned out the sounds of the emergency personnel attempting to get to you both.

They just had no idea…you were for real, a tiger.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i'm back bitches!!! happy fall and im so sorry for keeping you all waiting since FOREVER! I hope you guys like this one and thanks for sticking around--it means the world to me 🥹💘✨

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[aestas---estas]

You're like the sun

MDNI 18+ | Part 2 | Part 3 | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | ~2,3k words | fem!Reader, assistant!Reader, protective!Simon, intrusive thoughts briefly mentioned that are quickly squashed, drinking mentioned, reader is described as curvy (one mention), probable military inaccuracies | if I forgot a tag/tw please tell me, I'm new to this | divider by @cafekitsune | Read on AO3

You're like the sun. Simon hates the sun. Always too bright, too warm, beaming up at him with that celestial smile, and if he stares at you for too long your face imprints at the back of his eyelids; forcing him to bask in your light even when he turns his gaze away.

You bring him tea in the mornings — knocking confidently on his office door, waiting for his gruff grunt of acknowledgement before entering, too chipper, too bright. It's Earl Grey, a dash of milk, just to his taste, and he fucking hates that it's perfect. He questioned your motives the first time it happened, and with a melodic voice you told him you're bringing Captain Price his coffee and Simon's office was just on the way. Never faltering under his scrutinising gaze, only calling out a sweet goodbye before disappearing the way you came. It takes him weeks before he realises he never told you how he likes his tea, and by that point it's too late to ask.

One week you're out; sick, some stomach bug Price told him when he asked point blank about your absence on the second day. It's not that he misses you, of course not, he had just gotten used to the daily routine. He counted on you bringing him his morning tea like he counted on the sun to climb the horizon. So if he suppresses a smile underneath his mask when, after 5 days without your bright light, you grace the doorway to his office with a steaming mug and a wide smile, that would only be because he finally didn't have to make the beverage himself.

Before you, Simon would send his paperwork to Price via an unfortunate rookie that happened to pass by his door — threatening that even a glimpse inside the folder would be answered with violence. Too comfortable in his own space to venture outside and possibly subject himself to pointless small talk with soldiers he couldn't care less about. Now, he finds himself walking the hallway between his office and Price's, placing the files on your desk without a word. That's what you're there for, he tells himself. You're the assistant, it's your job to deliver whatever paperwork that was meant for the Captain. He doesn't scold or threaten the sun when it beams down at him from high up in the sky, so why would he utter a hateful word in your direction when you flash him that blinding smile and do your job?

It takes Price 4 months until he convinces you to join him and the boys for a night out at the pub. It's not that you feel unwelcome or unwanted per se, but you know you don't belong — not like the rest of them. You're the newcomer, have never been in a firefight, never had a scar be inflicted upon you from an enemy getting too close. You read and write reports, take phone calls, pass along messages and bring caffeinated beverages. But after a particularly shitty week, a drink with some coworkers didn't sound so bad anymore.

Stepping into the crowded pub, a pretty dress accentuating your curves, you drew Simon's attention right away. Like any personification of a celestial body would, you commanded the room. But the other mens’ obvious stares ranging from salacious to malicious did nothing to deter you, your focus was on the booth in the far corner where the team was all sat. A wave and the usual radiant smile of yours was all the greeting they got before you held up a finger and backtracked to the bar to order.

“Bonnie one, ain't she?” Johnny says, elbowing Simon in the ribs, eyes never leaving your form as you lean over the bar top to make your order heard over the music. Simon doesn't answer, but something ugly snakes across his chest, tightening around his heart. Of course Johnny had set his sights on you, and you would fall to his charm like every man and woman before you. It was a small miracle you hadn't already taken a tumble or two in the hay with the sweet-talking Scotsman.

Kyle scoots down the bench once you finally make your way over, a yellow and orange drink in hand. Despite your bad week your mood is as bright as the colours of your beverage, and Simon finds himself enraptured by your stories, your laugh. Even from across the table, the toe of your heels bumping against his rough boot with every shuffle of your legs, he can feel your warmth; it washes over him, makes the palms of his hands damp where they grip his beer glass tensely.

You fit in almost seamlessly with the squad. You talk in depth about some book with Price, you joke with Kyle, you flirt with Johnny. Had Simon been a better man, he would've offered you his seat so you could be closer to the Scottish Sergeant. But he's not a better man — he wants to be able to stare at you from across the booth, wants to observe your glow without distractions or interruptions. He's selfish, depraved, rude, a brute to put it simply.

So when Johnny offers to walk you home with a grin on his face, Simon fixes him with a steely glare and crosses his arms over his chest. “You're not fucking the secretary, MacTavish.”

Johnny sputters some half-assed defence, but eventually shrinks back down in his seat. You stumble as you get out of the booth, feet tripping over themselves, and Simon's arm snakes around your waist to steady you.

“‘M not a secretary,” you slur out, swaying slightly as he pushes open the door to the pub and leads you outside. The night air is crisp, cool, yet your body is warm where it rests heavily against Simon's side. “‘M a personal assistant.” You sound so proud over the title too that it almost makes him chuckle; almost. 

“You answer calls and deliver mail,” he replies, downplaying your role like the right bastard that he is.

You huff in annoyance and displeasure, obviously deterred by his dismissal. He can't be sure, but for a second he senses a glimpse of hurt in your eyes. Why would you care what he thinks of your position? Didn't you get along with Johnny all night? Or maybe you're mad that he cockblocked you. Yes, that must be it. You're not sad that he doesn't truly understand your value, you're not annoyed that he dismissed your pride, you're angry because he wouldn't let Johnny walk you home and tuck you in tight.

The two block walk to your apartment building from the pub is done in silence. Simon has his arm around you the whole way, making sure you don't stumble and fall flat on your face.

“Thank you,” you say as you lean against the door to your flat, fumbling with your purse to try and find the key. “For walking me here. You didn't have to.”

“No, I didn't,” he answers at length, because really, there was no reason for him to stay by your side the entire walk home. He could've called you a cab, he could've left you by the foyer instead of ushering you into the elevator and asking ‘what floor’, he could've stayed put inside the pub. He could've done a hundred and one things instead of making sure you got inside your flat safe and sound with his own two eyes.

A sound of victory expels from your lips as you fish your key out of the mess that is your purse and hold it up for him to see, a big, drunken grin on your face.

When you stumble into your hallway, Simon thinks he must've lost his mind — you didn't close the door. Didn't you know that was dangerous? Didn't you know he was?

“Careful,” he mutters out as you nearly tumble over and hit your head at the corner of a table when reaching down to unsnap the buckles of your shoes. The lock clicks in place behind him.

He takes care of you that night; argues with you to brush your teeth and remove any makeup you had put on, makes sure you drink at least two glasses of water and take a painkiller before ushering you off to bed. He sleeps on the couch and it occurs to him how horrifyingly simple it would be to snuff out your light. He could walk away, leave your door unlocked for any degenerate to enter, or he could be personal about it; press a pillow over your face as you sleep, hold your throat in his hands with enough force to snap, maybe even steal a kitchen knife from the wooden block so primly placed near the stove.

It's a terrifying thought, one he forces out of his mind as soon as it enters. The sun doesn't deserve to implode just because he sometimes finds its brightness debilitating, and neither do you.

Nothing changes after that night, yet everything does at the same time. You still bring Simon his tea every morning, now with an accompanying crumpet or biscuit, he still hand delivers his paperwork to your desk, but now he stays for a minute to chat. He makes a simple typo once, misspells his own rank at the beginning of the report, just to get a few extra moments of your warmth as you stop by his office to point it out — but not to worry, you have already fixed it, you reassure with a smile.

You bake cupcakes a few weeks later, two for each of them, decorated with a light pink frosting that matches the shade of your top so perfectly Simon suspects you must have done it on purpose. You make Price call everyone into his office for a quick celebration; it's your birthday, and Kyle and Johnny both offer to throw a proper party, but you shake your head and tell them you already have plans to celebrate that weekend. To Simon's surprise they both back off, neither of them making a big fuss about not being invited. He dreams of pale pink sunsets that night.

The incessant ringing of his phone wakes him up, pulling him from a fitful sleep in the middle of the night. Too tired for formalities, he simply grumbles out a ‘what?’ into the receiver, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Loud, drunken chatter, drowned out by the thumping bass of whatever club music that was playing in the background, met his ears for a few seconds before your voice broke through.

“Hey, baby.” Baby. The nickname feels like a cold shower, making all his synapses fire, his attention at high-alert.

“What's going on?” He asks, already pulling on his jeans and searching for his keys. You don't sound like yourself, something is off and it makes a ball of anxiety furl tight in his gut.

“Can you come pick me up?” You ask in lieu of a proper answer, rambling off the address of whatever club you had found yourself at.

He's outside the club within minutes, probably breaking a handful of traffic laws, but none of that matters as he spots you — arms wrapped tight around yourself, slightly shaking from the cold night air, some sleeze talking you up despite your closed-off body language.

“Oi!” He calls, drawing both your and the sleeze's attention.

“You serious?” The sleeze mutters, distaste clear on his face as he eyes Simon up and down.

“Simon!” You fling yourself in his arms, a wide smile pulling at your lips as you press yourself against his solid form. You're cold to the touch, goosebumps littering your bare arms, and he drapes his jacket over you before he even realises what he’s doing.

“This him then?” Sleeze asks. “The boyfriend?”

“Yup,” you answer, popping the p as you look back at him, still keeping yourself flush against Simon.

That explains the nickname then. You were trying to get rid of this jerk, and the only thing that works on people like him is telling them you're unavailable.

“Let's go, love,” Simon mumbles against the top of your head, just loud enough for the other man to hear. 

“Thank you,” you say once he's got you in the car, fingers nervously playing with the hem of the skirt of the dress you're wearing. It's another cute number that hugs you in all the right places, just like the one you wore that night in the pub. “I'm sorry I called. I'm… I'm sorry I said you were my boyfriend.”

“Don't worry ‘bout it,” Simon answers at length. He doesn't care that you had disturbed his sleep, he doesn't care that you had lied to a stranger about your relationship, he doesn't care that his jacket will undoubtedly smell like you once he gets it back — all he cares about is that you were safe, that despite the alcohol in your system you had enough wits about you to call him.

You kiss him on his cheek when he drops you off at your building, smiling softly before disappearing with a quick ‘see you on Monday.’ He doesn't realise until he's halfway back that he never asked for the jacket back.

It's nearing your one year anniversary as Price’s personal assistant. You make the team cupcakes again, vanilla frosting this time. Everything is just as it was day one, yet nothing is the same. Because now Simon walks you to your car at the end of every day, because now he follows you home after the pub whenever you accompany the team on one of their outings, because now he calls you ‘love’, because now you hold his hand and kiss his cheek, because now when he compares you to the sun it's because you're all encompassing, life giving, eternal. Without your warmth, your light, your love, his world would be cold and cruel and lonely. You're like the sun. Simon can't live without you.

--- Masterlist

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - part 5

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, page 6, part 7

summary: reader and spencer build ikea on the floor. they both know there’s something there, but don’t know or won’t say what it is. 

a/n: okay… can i just be honest and say idfk what i was doing but i like it??? i feel like my tone while writing this one changed a bit, but idc (i do but idk how to fix it😭) so pls enjoy I ALSO LOVE UR COMMENTS THEY KEEP ME SANE AND MAKE ME SUPER HAPPY 

————————————————————————

i went without complete dish sets and whatever else i’d written down that i needed to replace for two weeks. because unfortunately the FBI isn’t like the normal nine-to-five. i had to work through a wall of paperwork, and three cases spread across the country before i was able to step foot in ikea.

i felt bad while looking at and then eventually bringing home various things because i didn’t tell spencer i was going. but i felt like i had to go alone, because it was my apartment and all. and i didn’t want him to feel like he had to look after me.

so now i found myself sitting on the floor in my ‘lazy clothes’ which was just sweatpants and a tank-top, drinking my second glass of wine and blasting some upbeat music with a half assembled tv stand in front of me. i was flipping through the instruction book and sorting out all of the pieces i needed so that it wouldn’t fall apart either on me or in the middle of the night. my healing foot that was completely painless after the glass incident moved along with the rhythm of a song.

my trip to ikea was quite successful. i found some pretty blue dishes and really nice drinking glasses that i’d already washed and put away. they looked better than all the other dishes i’d had before, so maybe james going on a rampage was a really, really awful blessing in disguise.

i still felt bad that i didn’t bring spencer along.

halfway through taking in a mouthful of wine i was brought out of my thoughts by a series of knocks on my front door. i swallowed the wine and walked to the door. 

“hey! what’re you doing here?” i swiped a drip of wine from the corner of my smile-curled lips while looking up at spencer. 

he studied me before answering, “you weren’t answering your phone.” 

i opened my mouth as if to say ‘oh’ while glancing back to my phone as it sat on the counter. “sorry, i had the ringer off. do you wanna come in?” i asked, directing my eyes back to him. 

he nodded and i opened the door wider. his face changed as he saw the disarray of my apartment. “you went to ikea without me?” he asked.

i closed my door with a smile. “yeah, this morning. sorry i didn’t call you, i just wanted to go on my own.” i walked past where he was standing beside my dining table to turn down my music slightly prior to sitting back on the floor. “do you want some wine?” i pointed at my almost empty glass. 

he shook his head. his eyes slowly looked over all of the things on the floor, and how i had my couch pushed against a wall to make the space seem bigger, and then me. “have you been doing this all day?” 

i shook my head, finishing my wine before answering. “no. well… i got up at eight and then came home at noon, struggled to get everything inside for an hour and then went to get food with penelope which meant i got home around six, so no.” the extent of my day tumbled out of my mouth. the recitation was more for me, just backtracking over everything i did just to get the answer right for spencer. “why?” i pushed some hair from my face.

spencer looked at me with an amused smile and came to sit beside me. “you look happy.” 

my hand reached for a piece of what was the next step in the instructions on the floor beside me. i worked on the furniture while i replied to spencer. “i always get really excited when i get new furniture.” i quickly followed the rest of the instructions on the page before turning all of my attention to spencer. “what did you get up to today?” 

he shrugged. “nothing half as interesting as what you did.” his eyes looked over my face a few times. i gave him a look and silently told him to just tell me. he cleared his throat. “i went to the park and played chess, walked around to a few bookstores, drank six cups of coffee and then came here because you wouldn’t answer my calls.” his body leaned closer to mine as he talked about my unanswered calls. 

i giggled. “i already said i’m sorry for that.” my heartbeat sped up at his proximity. it was just the wine… i think. “also, six cups of coffee? on a weekend?”

spencer nodded. “i like coffee.” 

“oh, trust me, i know.” i smiled. “are you sure you don’t want some wine?” i asked, slowly getting up to refill my glass. “it’s that kind rossi broke out for us… a while ago.” i wiggled my eyebrows a little, holding the almost half full bottle up for him to see. 

he didn’t answer immediately, meaning he was contemplating, before he inevitably nodded. 

i smiled and went to grab another glass and fill it up. he joined me in the kitchen, gently taking the glass from me while i poured more for myself. “i’m glad you’re here.” i took a sip. 

“are you?” he asked. 

i nodded, bumping into his side as a way to tease but i stayed leaning into him. “yeah. your company isn’t too bad.” a smile spread over my lips that i hid with my wine glass. 

spencer huffed a short laugh. “do you want help finishing that?” he was referring to the tv stand on the floor. 

i stared at it, tilting my head this way and that before i answered, “yeah.” 

spencer nodded and we went back to sit on the floor together. with his help we got it done in less time than it took for me to construct the first half. granted, i was doing more dancing and procrastination when it was just me. 

after it was done i laid down on the floor, knees up while i stared at the ceiling. my eyes moved to look back at spencer as he smiled down at me. “what?” 

“nothing.” he didn’t look away like he usually would. he kept on staring like he did that night i was in his hotel room. 

i smiled giddily. “in case you need a picture.” i slid his phone to him in the space between us. 

he shook his head. “i have an eidetic memory.”  

i propped myself up on my elbows. “i thought that only worked with words.” 

“it’s works with images too.” spencer told me, reaching out a hand to move a piece of hair out of my face. 

i didn’t breathe while he was doing that. i felt his finger tips on my face and it made me feel warm. “how long do you remember stuff for?” 

“the specifics kind of fade after a few minutes but i still remember whatever i saw.” his voice grew softer as he spoke. 

it got quiet between us again. 

i don’t mind the silence. it leaves me with a better ability to focus on his features. like his deep eyes. his brown hair that framed his face perfectly. the blue sweater that just be new.

i looked away in a rush, trying to push the observations out of my head. 

i can’t be doing this to myself. why am i not allowing myself to feel for him?

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing i just… i have a lot on my mind.” 

“like what?” he was trying to help, so why did i want to push him away right now? i’ve never thought like this before. 

i inhaled deeply. “why did you kiss me?” my eyes found his and he looked like a deer in the headlights. 

he looked away for a second before looking back. “i’m sorry i did that.” 

“i’m not asking for an apology,” i said. “i’m asking why you kissed me.” i wasn’t trying to sound rude or anything other than curious, and yet he seemed like he wanted to cry. 

spencer cleared his throat. “i did it because i’ve wanted to for three years… and i knew that if i didn’t do it that night, i wouldn’t have another chance to.” 

i want to say that explains the last three years, but i can’t. he was too good at hiding his feelings for me to have even had a hunch about it until four weeks ago. 

i didn’t even recognize my own feelings for spencer until four weeks ago… and i’m still not entirely sure what those feelings i have are. 

i only nodded and looked away. i sat up all the way and moved to sit criss-cross right against him, leaning into him, head on his shoulder. 

i wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words, and spencer was okay with that. he returned the touch with an arm around my back. his hand gently grasped my waist. his head rested on the top of mine. 

i closed my eyes. he was really warm. and he was right there. “is it too early to love you?” i breathed. i could barely hear myself. the chances of spencer hearing was slim, but his hand on my waist gave a gentle squeeze. 

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

the sweetest choice

↖ navigation: seventeen masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: boyf! joshua x ! reader

↬ tags: domestic life with shua xoxo (what did i just write??), happy birthday to me and my delusions where i'm actually married to joshua hong my one and only ultimate bias of all times i kid you not, happy birthday to me <3

summary: even in the most mundane moments, joshua’s thoughtfulness never fails to remind you how much he loves you.

word count: 543 words

joshua feels you leave his side before he registered you getting distracted by the drinks on display when walking past it.

"shua, over here!" without a seconds hesitation, he backtracks to the drinks stand where you were staring intently at. you flit your gaze to him and he immediately knows what you were going to say.

"shall we get one bottle to share? this looks like a new promotional item!" you excitedly pointed to the various colorful bottles and truly, joshua could see why they caught your attention. while getting fruit juice wasn't part of the shopping list, joshua relents because it's you. (not that he minded because he knew you were more snackish than he was--something he adored.)

you gently pulled joshua towards you, hesitance creeping into your voice, "i can't choose which one to get."

"i'm fine with anything." he assures you, but when you shoot him a disapproving look, joshua laughs, "why don't you think about it some more? i'll go grab the other items on this list." that compromise seemed to appease you and you nodded (joshua thinks you were so lovely like this, all determined to pick out the best flavor), "okay!"

"don't run away, yeah? i'll grab the other items and be back in a few." he rubs your shoulders comfortingly, and stepped away from you.

he begins filling the supermarket trolley with groceries, making sure to stock up on some necessities for the house. he smiles to himself, still unable to believe that you two were finally staying together for good. long were the days where you two stayed up late in a call, on the verge of falling asleep.

as joshua made one round through the many aisles, he silently chuckles at the sight of you deep in thought with two bottles in your hands. he decides to walk around one more time, letting you take your time.

"so, which one did you decide to get?" he finally pushes the trolley towards you. "i was looking up the ingredients and thought you'd benefit from these. there's some immunity boost and also vitamins!" you held up a purplish red concoction and joshua pats the top of your head, "thank you for thinking of me, my love." you placed it into the trolley, linking arms with him, "i searched very carefully, you know?"

his heart warms at the idea of you watching out for him, just as he does for you, "i can see you did your research. i'll be sure to drink them and get stronger." as the two of you checked out, he loads the items into the back of the car as you watched him, "thanks for waiting. i must have taken quite some time to decide earlier."

your bashful admission cause his heart to skip a beat. even after all this time, you were always so considerate and sweet. pulling you to his side, he pressed a kiss on your forehead, "i don't mind it one bit. in fact because i let you think about it carefully, it's a win win situation that you got me something nice to drink too!"

"such a smooth talker. i love you." you hugged him back and he sighs into your embrace, "i love you too sweetheart."

@ppumeonae-bigvibe ‘s work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[wrestletotheground]

snap out of it - ross macdonald x reader

your boyfriend helps ease the tension when you're feeling stressed..

cw: 18+ minors dni!! smut, dom!ross, f!sub!reader, kitchen sex, fingering, d word, unprotected sex, p in v, orgasm denial, stomach bulging, squirting, degradation, lowkey kinda toxic but in a hot way <3

wc: 2.4k

~

you're walking- no. storming around the house like a raging bull. for what reason you don't even know. maybe it's the party you're hosting tomorrow, and the fact the house is an absolute mess.

you've woken up in such a mood, feeling like you're going crazy when every little inconvenience is piling up and fuelling the fire. there was no hot water in the shower, you burnt your toast for breakfast, and you're now running around in a frenzy trying to sort everything as if you're being hunted for sport. feminine rage, if you will.

you're muttering under your breath, picking through the piles of clutter in the kitchen when you're startled by your boyfriend placing a hand on your lower back. you jump, so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear him coming.

'hi baby, whatcha doing?' he asks, wrapping his arm around your waist before you step away from him, rolling your eyes at his cheerful tone.

'ross, i'm sorry, I love you, but fuck off, I've so many things to do I don't need you distracting me, I've been cleaning all day and the place still looks the same and URGGH,' you practically scream, holding your head in your hands.

guilt washes over you, realising you've just essentially snapped at him over nothing, but you're too worked up to backtrack now. you continue what you were doing, ignoring ross' eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. you lift an empty wine bottle from the table to clear it away and start cursing under your breath when you notice it's left a stain that you're gonna have to sort out on top of everything else.

'darling you're too stressed over this, there's no need, just take a break and chill out, yeah?' rage pumps through your body. even though you know he's just trying to help, you can sense an undertone - an edge - in his voice that would usually have you on your knees already, but right now, you're in no mood for it.

'no, look, I've been putting it off it's just- there's so much to do, I'll be fine, okay?' it comes out more frantic and loud than you anticipated, making his face crease in concern. he puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

'look at me,' he orders. you sigh and turn to look up at him, heart still pounding partly from the stress and now also from the intense look in his eyes. his hands are warm and heavy on your waist now, gripping onto you like you'd float away if he let go.

'I'm gonna fuck you until you calm down and you can't think of anything else but my name, and you're gonna fucking take it'.

okay, maybe you are in the mood for it. your stomach flutters and you nod silently, feeling like a lamb under the thumb of a lion. his soft yet demanding tone always makes you so turned on you give in immediately. 'there we go darling, daddy's gonna make you feel better, hm?' he says as one hand comes up to wrap around your neck, pushing in gently.

that word sends a rush of excitement coursing through you, and you manage to get out a strangled mix between 'yes' and a moan. you'll be good for him if it's the last thing you do, and you're so riled up you're already starting to channel that rage into desire.

you go to start towards the bedroom before he grabs you roughly, stopping you in your tracks yet again. 'where do you think you're going honey? you're gonna take it here like a good pet.' his tone is stern. 'but the-,' he cuts you off by slapping his palm on the side of your jaw, grabbing your chin and forcing eye contact. you feel a pulsing heat building in your core.

'do what you're told or I'll leave you here, I know you're fucking soaked for me already, clenching your thighs when I haven't even touched you,' he smirks, and you flush when you realise you've been inadvertently squeezing your legs together in a futile attempt to relieve yourself.

the thought of him taking you right here in the kitchen drives you crazier than you'd like to admit. the big sliding glass door that leads onto the garden is only a few yards away, giving any nosy neighbours a full show, but he doesn't seem to mind and you're already too desperate to stop now.

he hooks a finger through the belt loops on either side of your jeans and uses them to pull you forward, making you stumble into him. 'take these off for me darling,' he orders, breath ghosting over the side of your face as he tries to keep his composure.

you fumble around with buttons and zips until they're pooled around your ankles, stepping out and crashing your lips onto his with one hand already gripping the hair at the back of his neck. your tongues melt together, pure lust radiating off one another.

he toys with the hem of your shirt blindly until you get the hint and break away from him to throw it behind you. his breath catches in his throat and he can't help himself from grabbing at your tits instantly, pupils dilated beyond belief as he stares at them in awe. you giggle to yourself, tracing your fingertips under his tshirt and up and down his sides.

he gives you a questioning look. 'you're such a boy,' you laugh. his stare intensifies. 'oh yeah? don't think a boy would make you feel like this, hm?' he replies, bringing a hand down between your legs to cup your pussy and dipping his index finger under the thin fabric, making you moan. 'see?' he whispers. you smile coyly and kiss him again, more passionately this time.

dripping desire pools in your underwear when he grabs you and walks you a few steps towards the kitchen counter. he turns you to face away from him and pushes down on your shoulders. you fold with his touch, straightening out your back as your chest and arms fan out over the cold marble.

with one hand pinning you onto the countertop, he uses the other to rip your wet underwear down, letting them fall to your feet before you kick them away.

goosebumps prickle across your entire body when his fingers graze over your soaked cunt. you spread your legs wider instinctively, allowing him easier access. 'so responsive for me,' he mumbles behind you. he leans over your back, moving your hair to one side to nip and suck at your neck.

without warning, he shoves two fingers inside you, making you scream out in surprise and pleasure. he instantly takes his hand away and you exhale sharply at the sudden loss of contact before it comes back to land a sharp slap on your ass. 'shut the fuck up screaming like some sort of crazy bitch, the neighbours are gonna hear you. don't want them to know how much of a little slut you are do we?' you shake your head too quickly in response, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

after a moment of letting you sit in shame, humiliation, he plunges his fingers back in; this time you know better than to make too much noise. 'good girl, I know baby, I know,' he coos, gazing down at your trembling figure as his fingers work in and out of you.

'mmplease, feel so good,' you whimper, your hips jerking into him every time his thumb swipes your aching bud. the need for release is all consuming. the effect he has on you is unparalleled by anyone else. the way he works you up so much just to watch you crumble and writhe under him is enough to make you submit to his every word.

every bend and thrust of his fingers is delicate and precise, hitting all the right spots to have you doubled over in ecstasy, leaning your whole body weight on the counter to hold yourself up. 'gonna cum, please, ross, SHIT- what the fuck,' you practically sob, your climax that was right at your fingertips being suddenly ripped away from you. the second he knew you were on the edge, he stopped, pulling out his soaked fingers and drying them on your back. your head drops downwards in frustration as the fuzzy feeling inside you dissipates.

'you don't get to cum until I fucking say so, got it?' you let out a strained 'yes' sound, more of a whimper than anything. you nod your head and let your eyes fall shut in relief when you finally hear the sound of his belt being unbuckled.

'need me to fuck you stupid so you can think straight don't you love?' he says, placing a kiss just below your ear as he pulls down the waistband of his boxers just enough to to free himself from the constraints of the tight fabric. you glance down behind you and inhale deeply at the sight of his raging erection, already leaking in his hand before he even gets you into position.

he hikes your leg up, letting it rest on his strong forearm, fingers gripping into the soft flesh inside your thigh. the air hitting your cunt makes you squirm, but you manage to keep your balance, aching for him to give you what you need.

he lines himself up and you feel yourself get wetter, dripping onto him in anticipation. he slides into you with no resistance, groaning at how wet and perfect you feel around him. the full feeling of his thick cock stretching you out makes you see stars, whining softly as he builds up to a delicious pace that practically splits you in two. 'fucking hell, so perfect, just for me,' he rambles, mind going into overdrive already. 'just for you, daddy,' you reply, knowing how feral that word makes him at the best of times.

you can slightly make out your reflection in the tiles on the wall. the distorted image shows him practically fully clothed and you bare, at his disposal to use how he wants. the sight eggs you on further, and you lean up into his chest, moaning at the new sensation of his beard tickling the side of your neck.

with the angle he's at now, he's going so deep inside you that his cock pushes out your lower stomach. you look down and nearly collapse when you see a subtle bulge just below your belly button disappear and reappear with every thrust.

ross notices it too, and trails his hand down your stomach until he feels it. something feral unlocks in his brain when he feels the bump protruding, making him groan into your ear and fuck into you harder, somehow even closer now.

'shit, you feel that? feel how well you're taking me angel?' he says, pressing in on the spot. 'fuck, yes, more, please, daddy,' you whine, gasping when he starts groping at your tits, his chin resting on your shoulder as he teeters closer and closer to the edge.

'more, huh? this not enough for you?' you shake your head, and you can feel him getting more riled up by your reaction as his cock throbs inside you.

the knot in your stomach tightens further as his right hand moves down to circle your throbbing clit. you cry out at the sensation of him all over you all at once, and it takes everything in you not to let your thighs clamp shut. his name echoes from your mouth like a prayer.

the pressure is steadily mounting inside you, and you feel like you could let go any second. 'close... mm-' he slaps his hand onto your cunt, just above where he's pumping in and out of you, making you whine. 'i told you, you're not gonna cum until I say, need to teach you some fucking manners, brat,' he punctuates the last word with another harsh tap with his fingertips before continuing agonisingly slow circles.

the sting of the slaps mixed with the soothing warmth of his touch sends you into overdrive. the cold countertop digs into your palms, using it as leverage to push yourself impossibly further into him, following his pace carefully.

'jesus christ, ross, fuck, please let me cum,' you moan through gritted teeth. you don't think you've ever been this worked up, with him denying you of your orgasm twice already. you feel wound up, like a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute, and fuck, you need to, but you'll strain yourself to the last second to please him.

your core is on fire, warmth spreading all over your body, you can nearly hear the ringing in your ears already and you're about to start begging again before he snaps you out of your head. 'go on. cum all over daddy's cock, that's it- shit,' he curses when you clench tightly around him, the coil in your stomach finally snapping. you cry out as you gush all over him, little squirts splashing from you onto the floor in time with his movements. you grab onto him, pushing his hand onto your clit harder to work you through your high, the head rush like nothing you've ever felt before. it's electric, like a static current washing over you as your whole body convulses.

when he sees the pool of your slick shining on the tiled floor, it's over for him. his groans get louder and with one final push and a 'FUCK,' he tips over the edge, pulsing inside you and painting your pussy white.

your head feels hazy as you catch your breath, slowly coming back to reality. you barely register what's happened with the euphoria lingering in your body. 'did I...' you look down at the mess you made and realise you just squirted all over the kitchen and desecrated ross' hand and jeans in the process. 'fuck, that was so hot, i'm- christ,' he laughs, his head dropping onto your shoulder in disbelief.

'thank you,' you whisper. the stress that's been weighing on your chest all day has completely disappeared, but you're so fucked out you can't find any more words. he lets out a breathy laugh and braces you as he pulls out gently, holding you upright as you stand on two feet again.

'you were right, I'm not stressed anymore,' you smile, placing a soft kiss on his lips before starting to redress. 'daddy's always right,' he teases, a cheeky grin spread across his face.

~

[lostcherise]

Overcome

Summary: In which Jesse accepts the money Walt gives him and decides he deserves a second chance in life, but only if he gets to have it with you.

Warnings: mentions of drug overdose, mentions of future miscarriage, angst with fluff, this is post s5e8 (gliding over all) but the nazis never happened

Word count: 5,397

A/N: this is loosely inspired by one of my favorite songs from my favorite band and some lyrics used throughout the story will be written in italics. Hope you enjoy!!

Whoever was at your front door sure seemed to be persistent. Persistent enough to wake you from your peaceful slumber at - you glanced over at your digital alarm clock - 3:38 A.M. Great, just fucking great. With a grunt, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the wooden floor cold against your bare feet. You narrowed your eyes at the metal baseball bat that rested next to your bedside table. For a second, you thought about not taking it with you, but no intruder would be polite enough to knock before they came barging in. But then again, given the crazy life you've had this past year, it was better being safe than sorry.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

With heavy steps, you trudged down the stairs as the banging grew louder and more frantic, feeling somewhat grateful your aunt was working the graveyard shift at the hospital that night, and you were alone. You swiftly unlocked the door, positioning your bad high above your head, ready to bust heads open, and opened the door.

"Jesse?" you were stunned, to say the least. He hadn't spoken to you in almost two months, and now he was standing at your front door, at the crack ass of dawn. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Come with me." his voice was pleading and frantic at the same time.

"Co- go where?" you raised your voice. He had basically dropped off the face of Earth for the hundredth time and as always he expected you'd come running after him. Because that's what you did.

"I don't know." he sounded frustrated but it seemed to be directed mores so to himself rather you. "Anywhere!"

"Jesse, why don't we backtrack a little, okay? Come in, let's discuss this inside."

"No, no." he shook his head, his eyes were wide. Although he was acting strange, he didn't seem high, a state you had seen him in multiple times. Something else seemed to be bothering him, but you refused to go anywhere without any explanation.

"For fuck's sake! Look, I don't wanna fight, my money's in a bag in the back for you." he motioned at his parked car on the side of the sidewalk. "Let's go, now." this time he sounded defeated, almost like a lost child, and your heart ached for him. To deny all the hurt he'd been through would be a blatant lie.

"What money, Jesse?" you warily asked and hugged yourself. It was March and you were in a flimsy tattered t-shirt, and sweatpants, barefoot at that.

"Look, if you come, I'll explain on the way. You comin' or not?" he was growing impatient at your lack of cooperativeness.

"Jesse, I can't just up and leave! I have responsibilities." you countered.

"Oh, like what? Working at a strip club?" that was a low remark, even he knew that. You saw it in the way he grimaced, as instant regret kicked in, but you knew better than to get angry at him, he was kind of right.

"It's what's going to get me through nursing school, you of all people should know that." you shook your head, even if you couldn't get mad at him, you couldn't help but still be disappointed.

The first time your paths crossed were four years ago, you were fresh-faced and straight out of high school. Just barely legal. You had just moved to Albuquerque from Roswell at the first chance you got. The relationship with your parents was strained, so you could bet on the $300 in your pocket - that was all you had on you at that time - that your parents were on cloud nine the moment you had stepped foot out of the house. Thank God for your beloved aunt that had taken you in, or else you would've ended up living in a tent on the side of the street, addicted to the crystal. Not that landing a job as a stripper at 18 was the brightest idea, but old men loved spending the entirety of their pension on you, so the cash flow was good. Plus, you had a roof over your head at all times. So, in your mind that counted as doing okay.

Jesse had come in on your third day with his group of friends. Initially, you thought he was going to be just another sleazebag, which he was to an extent. However, he wouldn't bother you the same way the other patrons did, with you he seemed more reserved, which was very odd given how he was with the other girls. He would come in twice a week, just to see you, admire you on the pole. Then came the private dances, and after five ones, you guys would end up talking halfway through. After that, he would offer to buy you drinks in attempts to keep talking to you, and it worked. That was when the lines between customer and client started to blur and you entered the danger zone. From client, he became your dealer. You were the one who had approached him on the matter, just needed to get your hands on some weed to wind down. Then, came the crystal. Although, you ultimately decided that was not your thing, you hated how paranoid and anxious it made you, so you stuck with the occasional joint here and then. After that, from dealer he got upgraded to friend, and from friend you somehow ended up to now - whatever the hell now was.

See, you knew you cared for Jesse as more than just a friend and you liked to think that he did too. But you knew better than to go tredging that path, ultimately there was no happy ending for the two of you on the horizon, and that's what pained you the most.

"I'm sorry, it was out of line." Jesse looked sheepish. "But I have more than enough money to get you through nursing school and build a new life together a-"

"Why me?" you interrupted.

"What?"

"I mean, why with me?" you asked nonchalantly trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach.

"You know I can't do this without you. You and me, 'till the end of the line. Ride or die." Jesse's pleading eyes searched your own and you hated yourself for even considering his offer. Just like always, you were so willing to go after him, even if that meant him dragging you into the hellfire with him.

"I'll let you know by tomorrow, morning. Get some rest, Jesse." you sighed, closing the door and you went back up to bed. You tossed, and you turned on your bed for what seemed like eternity, as you tried to fight off the thoughts that kept you awake, finally giving up when you saw the sun creeping through your thick curtains. With a frustrated scream, you kicked the covers off of you and preactically leaped off your bed, You walked over to the small walk in closet opposite your bed. A small part of you was screaming at you, that this was wrong, the wrong thing to do.

Yes. Yes, it was.

But leaving Jesse on his own? That was something your love for him wouldn't allow you to do. Maybe, this was finally your way out and what if you were too blind to see? It was better to live with the consequences of bad choices, rather than the constant regret of not giving it a try, being plagued by the constant what ifs and could've beens.

You grabbed a large duffel bag on the top shelf and started mindlessly shoving in whatever article of clothing first came in your line of vision. Taking a step back, you took in the sight of your now half empty closet. It scared you how willing you were to pack up and leave everything behind. It's not like you were a first timer at this thing, you had done this before and you ended up okay.

The sound of the front door unlocking brought you back to reality. Shit, you had to tell your aunt.

"Hey, you're home." you greeted your aunt with a hug.

"Sweetie, why are you awake? Is everything okay?"

"Yes." she gave you a pointed look. "Well, not really." you admitted.

"Uh, how do I break this to you." you struggled to get the correct words out. "Jesse and I are leaving town." you exhaled, a small weight was lifted of your shoulders already. Still there was so much weighing you down, but she shouldn't know.

"Wha- when? Where are you going?" she couldn't mask the sadness in her voice. She never had children, but she loved you like her own and to leave so suddenly was a lot to take in for your aunt.

"We're thinking of, uh, road tripping across the West Coast." the lie came easy. "Take in new sceneries, you know youngster stuff." you tried to laugh off the tears that were beginning to brim your eyes.

Your aunt stood silent in front of you, she wasn't stupid by any means, she had suspected things about the kind of life Jesse was leading; she had tried to talk some sense into you when he had first came into the picture, but to no avail. So, she let you be, you were a big girl and you were going to learn on your own. And if there was one thing she knew best about you, is that once you had made up your mind, nothing was changing it back.

"Okay..." she trailed off, accepting your decision defeatedly. "Please be careful, that's all I ask." she said, before pulling you into a much needed hug.

"Yes, I promise I'll stay in touch." you hugged back tightly. She pulled back to take a look at you with a tearful smile, her lips quivered as she smiled, and you mirrored her reaction.

"I should better go, tell Jesse. Call at work later too." puffing out your cheeks as you exhaled. You wiped your palms on your thighs, they weren't dirty, it was just a habit you did when you were nervous.

Within thirty minutes, you found yourself in front of Jesse's front door, the duffel bag sitting heavy on your shoulder. You set the bag down and rang on his doorbell.

"You're here." Jesse greeted you with sunken eyes.

"Aren't I always?" you asked, it was more of a rhetorical question both of you knew the answer to. Jesse leaped into your arms and let out a choked sob, his sudden change of emotion made your chest tighten.

"I thought this time was going to be different." Jesse cried into your hair and took in a deep breath. The familiar smell of your vanilla coconut perfume calmed him a bit. You were his calm.

"For a moment, I thought so too." you admitted with tears of your own, silently rolling down your cheeks and pulled him in closer against your chest. Neither of you said another word, as you silently held each other, until Jesse decided to break away about a minute later.

"I'm ready to leave, like, right now." Jesse rested his forehead against yours, his striking blue eyes searching the comfort of your own. Briefly, he glanced down at your parted lips and thought about closing the gap, and enclose you in a fiery kiss.

But the romance thing never really went well with him, so if he got to keep you by his side as his friend, then he'd have to compromise. With a sigh, he shut his eyes and pushed those thoughts away.

"Let's go."

──────

The door thumped rhythmically, as you struggled to find Jesse's spare key. The 90lb clay pot that adorned his entrance scraped against his porch, as you struggled to push it to the side. A single key lay beneath.

Soon, you were met with an unquestionable stench. It smelled like sweat, drugs and rotten food. You gagged at the state of Jesse's living room, unfamiliar bodies laying on top of another, trash and food strewn all across the floor - which was suspiciously sticky.

Your breath got caught in your throat once you caught sight of Jesse. He was slumped against a giant speaker, his chest moving rapidly. Your legs almost froze in place, it was the first time you had seen him so out of it, so lost in the blue that he was losing himself. He groaned softly, and threw his head back as he struggled for breath. Within seconds, you were by his side cradling his head.

God, he was burning.

He moaned in pain and held your hands. He tried to hold your gaze, but his eyes kept rolling back in his skull, you were losing him.

"I'm dying. I'm dyi-" he cried out and gasped for air.

"Stay with me Jesse, please." you cried, as you dialed 911. "Help is on the way." you reassured him as you held him against you.

Jesse turned to look at you when you sat down in front of him, breaking him out of his memory.

"Hey, whatcha thinkin' bout?" Sliding a steaming cup of coffee across the small motel room table, you gave him a soft smile.

"About that time you found me when I was overdosing." he tried to match your smile, but his pained eyes had something else to say. He chuckled to himself and took a much needed sip before he spoke. "I know this mind sound cheesy as gell, but-" he paused to look deeply into your eyes. "You're like a bringer of the calm, you're the only thing that keeps me grounded and sane."

"Jesse-"

"When your arms wrapped around me when the fever took, thought I was gone for good, but you brought me back. You are the reason I'm sitting here today. So, thank you."

By the time he was done talking, you were a bawling mess, the images of Jesse laying helpless, crying out in pain in your arms were tearing a hole in your chest that you had tried so hard to mend these past few months. Jesse cupped your smaller hands in his, brought them up to his lips kissing each knuckle, lingering on each one before moving on to the next one. It was an act so small and simple, yet so intimate, it sent tingles down your spine.

It was those little acts of love that made you fall deeper for him.

"So," you cleared your throat, your hands remained enclosed in his, enjoying his warmth. "Where to next?" you asked, as you looked out of the window taking in the view of Aspen mountain. Although, there was no snow in Aspen at that moment, the mountain was still black and white, the trees peaking through the snowy slopes.

"Depends on when we wanna settle down." Jesse said with a genuine smile that reached his eyes this time.

"Settle down?" you repeated with a giggle, heat rushing up to the apples of your cheeks. That idea, although something you had dreamt of often, still seemed so foreign to you. You, settling down with Jesse. Ex stripper and ex meth manufacturer getting a chance at the apple pie life, living in a white picket fence house, two kids and a white Labrador. "That sounds so domestic." you commented.

"Yeah, why not?" his deep voice trailed off. "It's till death do us part."

"That's for married couples. We're not married." you shook your head at him and you brought your mug up to your face, in a failed attempt to hide your reddening face from him.

"Some day." his gaze was intense and serious, none of his usual mischievous and flirty grins in sight. He meant every word he said. You almost choked on your coffee, and chose to remain silent instead.

"I was thinking Alaska." Jesse broke the silence and leaned back into his chair, lips pursed deep in thought.

"Way too much cold. How 'bout," you paused and tapped your chin as if in deep thought. "Ohio!"

"There's nothing in Ohio." Jesse looked at you, almost disgusted at your suggestion.

You bit back a laugh while he watched in disbelief. "Okay, fine. What do you like?"

"I want there to be trees. Like, live in the woods, that would be even better. Oh, and maybe next to a lake? Some extra space, so I could do some wood work." he mused, with a distant smile.

"Wood work?"

"Yeah, like, maybe built a chair or something." he almost looked embarrassed. "Do you remember when I had told you about that box I had made in high school?"

"Yeah, the one you exchanged for weed." you raised a teasing eyebrow.

"Yeah, that one. I was thinking maybe I, like, made a business out of it." he shrugged with a smile and leaned in closer to you. "I'm gonna build our furniture, too."

"Oh, so we'll be living together?" the butterflies in your stomach were threatening to fly out of your mouth, but you tried to keep your cool, as you leaned in even closer, only a couple of inches away from his face. His warm breath was tickling the tip of your nose.

"Oh, yeah." his voice was barely above a whisper. "And we'll go to bed every night and cuddle... and stuff." he added in a low and suggestive tone. Now, his nose was brushing against yours and the only thing that was left for him to do was pull you in a much awaited searing kiss. Instead, he moved his head to the side and kissed you just on the corner of your mouth, to which you embarrassingly whimpered.

Jesse just leaned back into his chair and continued on sipping on his coffee leisurely, as if he he hadn't basically admitted that he dreamt of marrying you some day.

"What about upstate New York?"

──────

"So, what's your new name again?" you asked Jesse after a boring game of "I Spy" as you continued your journey up northeast.

"James Driscoll." It sounded so foreign coming out of his mouth, but it was something he had to get used to for the rest of is life, if he wanted to do this second chance thing the right way.

"Can I still call you Jesse? I'll pretend it's your middle name." you giggled.

"Why the fuck would I go by my middle name?" he shot you sideways glance, before focusing back up on the road ahead.

He was met with a shrug for an answer. Lots of people liked their middle names more. However, Jesse's case was different, as many little ties he had to his past life, the better. That, in turn meant that you had changed your name too, for good measure. Just in case someone ever tried tracing back to Jesse through you.

The vacuum guy had made an exception for you in that you were allowed to contact your aunt freely. Even if he wasn't too happy about it. It had been about ten days since you had hit the road and you gave her check ins every two days via payphone. I should call her tomorrow, first thing.

Boredom was hitting you like a ton of bricks, you started making fart noises with your mouth. Watching blurry trees though the passenger window could only be entertaining for a little while. With a sigh, you reached over and turned on the radio, the soft melody of And I Love Her by The Beatles filled in the silence.

Jesse hummed softly, a gentle smile dancing on his lips. He reached over the console and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers with yours, his thumb softly caressing yours, placing soft kisses in the back of your hand. Averting his gaze momentarily from the road, his eyes searched for yours, and although he didn't speak, in his way he told you - well, showed you - that he did in fact love you. It just came easier to show it, rather than have the words come out.

He held your hand until you found your hotel for the night.

──────

A faint jingle was heard on the background, indicating a new customer had just come in the bar. That night the shift was moving kinda slow, it was a Wednesday night, and it was just you and Natalie, the bartender, and all four tables at that time had been tended to. On top of that, it was an hour till closing time, and all you wanted to do was teleport to your bed, in your comfy pajamas - that in actuality were Jesse's old clothes - and preferably snuggled up against him.

"Oh, new hottie alert." she purred, as she basically eye fucked whoever came in behind you. "Don't look, he's coming this way." she added hurriedly just right when you were about to turn around and take a look.

"Jeez, okay." you threw your arms up in fake defeat.

"Hello handsome. What can I get for you tonight?" Natalie greeted him as he moved to sit on the stool next to you.

"Whiskey, neat." An all too familiar gravelly voice spoke up beside you.

"Sure, thing." Natalie replied, pulling out a glass in front of Jesse and poured from the most expensive bottle that was reserved for what Natalie deemed the hot ones.

Although you knew Natalie's subtle advancements would practically go unnoticed by Jesse, you couldn't help the tiny speck of jealousy that crept its way into your chest.

He mumbled a soft 'thank you' and took a sip. Jesse let out an appreciative sound, eyebrows shooting up on his forehead in faint surprise.

"Yeah, it's one of the expensive ones." you spoke up from next to him. "That means she thinks you're hot." you whispered with a giggle.

"Oh, well. Remind me to leave a good tip." Jesse's lips curled around the rim of the glass, and he took another sip.

Although you would have loved to sit there and chat with Jesse, your shift was sadly not over yet and you had to do your job. You sauntered off, deliberately swaying your hips from side to side, knowing Jesse's eyes would be transfixed on your hips.

"She sure knows how to get your attention, doesn't she?" Natalie came up next to him, from her side of the bar, observing the way he was drinking you in with his eyes.

Jesse agreed absent-mindedly, his mind lost in old memories of you, the way your hips swayed the same way up on that stage, as you would walk up to the pole and spin sensually. Those tiny bikinis you'd wear during your routines, would leave nothing to his imagination. Or, when you had given him his first private lap dance, when you had stripped completely naked in front of him. The strain in his pants felt the exact same as it did right then at the strip club. Shaking his head, he averted his gaze and tried thinking of something else.

Maybe about how it had been about nine months since the two of you had moved to Amherst, and although you literally acted like a couple, he still didn't have the balls to actually kiss you. Sure, he'd kiss you all over your face, he would always pull you in his chest every morning and leave searing kisses on your shoulders, while on your daily morning cuddle session. But kissing you on the lips, to him felt like entering dangerous territory, it felt like trespassing. Hell, he even called you 'babe'.

But his previous dating history, Jesse had grown scared.

Besides, life was going well as it was.

You were now on your first year of nursing at UMass, you were working as a waitress at a small bar, he had gotten a job at Home Depot and kept himself busy with side projects - he had transformed your garage into a wood working studio.

Life was good. It was just that fear kept him from making it even better.

The bar grew more quiet as people started leaving. When the last group of people bid their goodbyes, Jesse downed the last sip of his drink and slapped a $20 on the bar. With two swift steps, he came up behind you and snaked his arm around your waist as you were cleaning up your last table.

"I'll be outside." he mumbled, his voice deep and low. You shivered ever so slightly when you felt his lips brush against your ear lobe, his scruffy beard tickling your skin, and just like that in a moment he was gone out the door.

"You have some explaining to do about you and that hottie." Natalie teased, with a hand on her hip as she threw a towel over her shoulder.

"Tomorrow." you waved her off.

"Tomorrow's your day off." she pointed out.

"Exactly!" you giggled and stuck your tongue out at her and resumed at cleaning up as fast as possible. You didn't want Jesse to wait out too long in the cold. Although it was November, winter had come early and you had the first snowfall two days ago.

You let out a loud sigh and you untied your apron, and folded it before throwing it in your backpack. Your arms shook as you reached for your thick woolen cardigan and threw it over your Henley shirt. Of course, you couldn't forget about your thick parka jacket, then your beanie, scarf and gloves.

You weren't used to this much cold.

Once outside, you bid Natalie goodbye and parted ways, you walking over to were Jesse was leaned against the wall, having a smoke.

"There's my little onion." Jesse teased you about your layers of clothing. Laughing, he grabbed the ends of your scarf and pulled in to him, and without a second thought brought you in for a kiss.

To your dismay, it didn't last long. Both of you pulled back, shocked at what had just happened. You simply stared at Jesse, at how he was looking at you with confusion. Then fear. Then guilt.

"I'm so-"

"Do it again." you cut him off before he could apologize.

"What?" his hot breath was fanning against your nose as you looked him in his eyes, then down at his lips.

"Kiss me, Jesse." you whispered softly. And so he did. You didn't mind that it was close to freezing out, Jesse's kiss was enough to light a fire within you, as his lips moved languidly against yours.

And just like that, life became even better.

──────

Life really did move along great as the years went by. Even after you had gotten your nursing degree, you and Jesse had decided that had grown to love Amherst, so you both decided to stay permanently.

Jesse had left Home Depot, he now owned a small business, building his own original pieces and restoring antique pieces on the side.

You had even gotten a dog together. You and Jesse had found her while trekking Mount Holyoke, and you both had instantly fallen in love with her. A Beagle, she was barely 1 year old at that time. You both decided to name her Echo, because of the way her little puppy cries echoed before you had found her.

Your relationship was going steady, your love for one another growing with each passing day, and you really didn't think you could be any happier.

Up until you saw those two blue lines appear on the pregnancy test. You hid in the bathroom at work, during your lunch break and took the test. At first, you wanted to do it at home but you grew more and more impatient with each passing second. So, now here you were; positive pregnancy test in your hand. It was real. It was really happening. When realization hit you, you let out a squeal, there was no doubt Jesse would be just as happy.

And he truly was. And although he was sobbing when you broke the news to him, you knew it was tears of happiness. You cried with him as he held you, and you cried even harder when he got down on his knees and placed soft kisses on your stomach.

The pregnancy progressed as usual, with a bit of morning sickness - which in reality was more like, all day sickness. By now, you were nine weeks along.

It was Saturday, and both you and Jesse were home for the weekend. A rare occurrence, mostly because of your line of work and irregular schedules. Jesse rolled over with a lazy smile on his face, half awake, to pull you against him like he usually loved to do. But you were no where to be found, maybe you were preparing breakfast, he thought, and got up to go to the bathroom.

He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, as he groggily made his way to the bathroom. He went to open the door, only to find it was locked. That was odd, you never locked it. Jesse's heart fell at the sound of your muffled groans and crying.

"Open up." his voice was gruff from the lack of use, he had just woken up after all. "Babe, please open up." he pleaded, as he kept on knocking.

"Go away!" you yelled through the door and cried harder.

"Let me in, you're scaring me." Jesse's voice trembled, as panic started to settle in a burning fire inside his chest.

You kept denying and he kept begging, until a deafening silence fell from your side of the door. Jesse defeatedly called out your name softly once more, and that's when he heard the soft click of the door unlocking. He pushed it open gently and found you curled up on the bathroom floor, weeping silently.

"Love, tell me." Jesse was almost certain he knew what had happened. Tears silently rolled down his cheeks, his lips pursed as he tried to make no sound.

"I lost it." And the moment those words slipped past your lips, a blood curdling scream echoed through the bathroom as you cried even harder. In seconds, Jesse was on the floor with you in his arms. And you cried, and you screamed until your voice gave out. "There was so much blood." you whispered.

Jesse cried silently, cradling your head, and placing soft, comforting kisses on your head.

"I know you probably don't wanna hear this, but" he paused. "Whenever you're ready, we'll try again. And we shall overcome, as we've done before." he reassured you.

For weeks on end, the both of you were nothing but just empty shells of yourselves. Mostly you. The first week you had stayed at home, wandering around the house like a ghost. One month after the miscarriage, you had smiled genuinely again, you were finding your old self again.

You both giggled as you stumbled in, and you turned around to hush him, before bursting into a fit of laughter again. Jesse hummed against your neck, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses all the way down to your collarbone.

"Mhm, you smell so good." he slurred, moving to grope your ass through the loose fabric of your sundress.

It was only 3 P.M on a Sunday, and both of you were drunk of your asses after you had taken a curious Jesse for brunch and bottomless mimosas. He was always so confused as to how you managed to come home tipsy after brunch with the girls, and now he knew the why very well.

"You're sooo hot." you winked at him, or at least you tried to. "And I want you..." you grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the bedroom. Jesse just hummed appreciatively, and let you take the upper hand. You threw him on the bed and went on to straddle him and after that, everything was way too hazy to remember properly.

But you definitely had an idea of what happened, as you stared down at yet another positive pregnancy test. And although the months leading up to the birth of your daughter were rather difficult, it all got washed away the moment she locked eyes with you and Jesse. You guys shared teary smiles, life was well again.

The way it was supposed to be.

[kitwalker02]

His Secret (chapter 2)

chapter 1 here

A/N: I know I literally posted a part 2...I was writing this as chapter 3 but then I realized how much I hated the chapter 2 and liked this instead so bam that's what happened. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy. Also..today is my birfday:)))

Summary: Joe visits you in the cage and his walls begin to crack. Also same warnings from chapter 1 apply to this as well as tiny bit of a smut warning.

Three long days you’ve been here now.

 There was no way for you to keep track of time other than the small collection of coffee cups you’ve started. Joe brought you a latte every morning. And although he gave you a wary look when you initially refused to return the used cups, he didn’t press very hard. He still loved you and wanted things to be as easy as possible.

Contrary to what you’d believe, he didn’t find murder fun.

But things weren’t getting any easier. Even though Joe would bring you your favorite larabar flavors and take-out dinners, you were hardly able to stomach anything other than the lattes. Everything Joe was telling you made it impossible to even think about eating.

“He had photos of you. Explicit photos. He was going to send them out! Expose you!”

He admitted to poisoning your ex-boyfriend and burning the body. It was his teeth in the box.

“She was holding you back, stifling you. You blossomed without her!”

Joe killed your fucking mother for doing what moms do and hating every decision you made.

“Can’t you see everything I have done; I’ve done for you.”

So far, all these interactions with Joe had ended with you crying and begging him to shut up, not knowing if you’d ever be able to forgive him if he kept talking.

Last night, Joe had confronted you, asking if you were trying to starve yourself. At that moment, it didn't seem like a bad idea—almost like a freeway out. However, you awoke in the middle of the night, unsure of the time, and the empty feeling in your stomach began to gnaw at you painfully. You realized that starving yourself wouldn’t be an option. You would have to find another way out.

The sound of the basement door slamming shut was music to your ears. Pulled from your spiral of dark thoughts, you jumped to your feet and moved for the deposit box where you knew Joe would place your breakfast and coffee. Your fingers curled around the cool metal handle as you impatiently waited for Joe as he slowly descended the old wooden steps.

“Morning.” He greeted quietly, offering an awkward, tight-lipped smile, before he opened his end of the tiny door, placing the paper cup and plastic bag inside. “I got you pancakes.”

You didn’t answer; you couldn’t, not with the food so close. Snatching the items from the glass box, you turned on your socked heel and returned to your mattress. Tearing open the plastic bag, your heart fluttered as you silently acknowledged how far Joe had to have traveled to bring you your favorite pancakes. You gave him a half-hearted smile of thanks before cracking open the box and grabbing one of the oversized pancakes with your bare hand, shoving half of it into your mouth in one bite.

Joe breathed a laugh, pulling up the plastic folding chair he usually sat in while watching you in your plexiglass prison. “Looks like someone got their appetite back,” he noted fondly.

Your cheeks heated slightly, embarrassed that he had to see you in such a vulnerable position. Between this and your bathroom situation, there wasn’t much you could hide. Still, you shoved the rest of the pancake into your mouth, mumbling an apology through your mouthful of food. But Joe quickly shook his head, backtracking. “No, no, no. It’s fine. I just- I was getting worried.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers already gripping your next fistful of food, but you kept your mouth shut, meeting Joe’s gaze awkwardly.

You held each other’s eyes for a long, silent moment. The contact only breaking when you cleared your throat and reached for your coffee cup, taking a long sip of the hot liquid. You didn’t set the cup down until you knew Joe had averted his gaze. He hunched forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees and staring down at his folded hands, allowing you to finish your breakfast in silence.

When you finished, Joe was already standing up, waiting for you to put your trash back in the deposit box. You cleaned your stuff up slowly, honestly wishing you had a little more, but you didn’t want to ask Joe. Not wanting to depend on him any more than you needed. Placing your garbage into the deposit box, Joe eyed your coffee cup, raising his index finger to point at your small pile of paper cups. “I can get rid of those too if you want.” You glanced at the three cups, shaking your head at Joe. “It’s helping me keep track of the days.” You told him softly, embarrassed by your reasoning. Looking somewhat remorseful, Joe took your trash and stepped back just far enough to throw it away in the small garbage can he kept nearby. “You know I can do that for you too." He told you gently. "You don’t need to keep a tally, you’re not a prisoner.”

You both cringed at his word choice, knowing that wasn’t true. “It’s okay. It’s helping for now.” You spoke carefully, not wanting to risk Joe getting frustrated. Still, he released an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair, “I just-I don’t want you to be afraid to talk to me.”

Biting down on your lower lip, you flushed slightly as Joe turned to face you head-on,  and you couldn’t help but step back, moving to sit on your mattress again. Your only safe place in the entire basement. “I’m not.” You lied.

Joe all but glared at you, shaking his head at your obvious lie. He placed his hands on his hips, addressing you sternly. “I’ll be back in a few hours with some lunch.” His eyes raked over your form. “And some new clothes.” He started to turn from you when you called out to him.

“Joe, wait! You-you’re leaving? But you just got here.” In all honesty, it got lonely. And even if you wanted to keep your distance from Joe, he was your only source of company, and you did love him…at one point. Turning to face you slowly, you noticed a hopeful gleam in Joe’s eyes. “You want me to stay?” You shrugged, not wanting to come off as desperate. “I mean…I don’t want you to go.”

He nodded, smiling to himself as he returned to his chair, facing you once again. A heavy silence settled over the two of you, and you pulled your knees up to your chest, hugging your legs close.

“I liked whenever we’d go out for pancakes at night after a movie,” you said, hoping to break the silence. Joe hummed, seeming reluctant to discuss life before the last three days—before you learned his dark secret. Clenching your jaw, you looked up at Joe only to find him already watching you. You shifted uncomfortably from the intensity of his stare.

“I am feeling… better,” you said quietly. Joe brightened at your words.

“Yeah?” he asked. You nodded, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the grin that spread across Joe’s face. God, how you fell in love with that smile.

“Yeah,” you replied.

He sat up a little straighter in his chair, placing his hands on his thighs. “You know, if you’re bored, I could set up a movie down here or bring you a book.”

You felt so tired and knew you’d rather take a nap in your bed or have a hot shower but you agreed anyway. “That would actually be really nice of you.”

Suddenly you got an idea, a way to get Joe to open the door. Noticing your shift in demeanor, Joe raised a brow at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. “What?” he asked softly, his smirk turning to a smile when you playfully shrugged your shoulders. “Tell me!”

“I was just thinking…”

Joe leaned forward in his seat, tilting his head at you. “Penny for those thoughts?” You bit your lower lip and glanced up at Joe through your lashes, shifting to sit up on your knees. “It’s just…we don’t have to abstain from one another, you know. Like, you make the rules, Joe.” He furrowed his brows, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest as he realized what you were insinuating. “You want me to fuck you?”

He had never said it like that. Sex was always something so sacred and loving between the two of you. Like the night before this all went down; Joe had rocked his hips into yours, his arms caging your body to the bed, your own arms wrapped tightly around his neck, not sure if he could breathe and not caring, only needing to hold him as hard and close to you as possible. His voice was both breathy and breathless as he whispered his love for you in your ear over and over again until he finished. Pulling out, only to kiss down your body to that special spot just for him between your legs and finish you off too…

You nodded quickly, needing Joe to open the door. Whether it was to escape or ‘fuck’ him, you didn’t know and honestly needed to find out. “One round, in the cage. Everything will be fine. Come on.”

You never talked about sex like that either. You never had to talk about it after the first time, it always just sort of happened. But it's been a few days and tension was high so it was no wonder if the both of you were a little desperate.

Although he seemed to hesitate, Joe stood up, already pulling the key ring from his pocket. “I don’t know, Y/N…” You quickly stood to meet him at the door. You placed your hands on the glass, eagerly watching his hand grip the keys. “Please Joe, I-I need you…” He met your lustful gaze with one of his own just as intense, licking his lips he started to bring the key to the lock, and you took a small step back knowing you were only going to get one chance. You had to be patient and play your cards just right. Between Joe and your life, your whole world was on the line.

Suddenly, Joe pulled the key away from the lock and tucked it back into his pocket. You gave him a puzzled look. “Joe? What are you doing?” Giving you an apologetic glance, Joe slowly took a step back from you. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” You slammed your palms against the door, frustrated. Scared. How little control did you have here?

“Joe, no. Don’t leave me!” Tears welled up in your eyes as you clenched your fist, slamming it into the plexiglass harder this time. “Why can’t you trust me?”

Joe hated leaving you so riled up and emotional, everything in him wanted to open the cage and hold you, comfort you…make love to you, but he had to stay strong and finally turned away from you. “I’ll be back with food and clothes. I’ll bring you a book. Do you need anything else?” Gathering up all your frustration, you seethed at him. “How about a fucking orgasm?” You didn't mean to be crude; you were just upset, but your words did as you hoped and caught Joe's attention, if only for a moment. He scoffed, “I trust you can manage that one yourself.”

You fell silent at his harsh words, listening as the sound of his shoes faded up the stairs before the basement door slammed shut behind him. You were alone...again. Curling up against the glass wall, you slid to the floor and allowed yourself to cry.

[girls-alias]

Caught - Demon Dean Winchester

Title: Caught - Demon Dean Winchester Words: 5,109 Relations: Demon Dean Winchester X reader. TW: Smut, rough, Threatened SH, SPOILERS.

@angelofdarkness69 asked:

Demon Dean Smut 😈❤️‍🔥😈❤️‍🔥

I walked into the bunker, slightly out of breath as I rushed here. Sam had called me but I was away from my phone. He left a message where he sounded completely panicked, he said that I was needed at the bunker and that it was about Dean. I dropped everything I was doing to rush there.

I stumbled down the stairs, looking frantically into rooms as I rushed down the hallways.

"Sam?" I called out, looking around and wondering what was going on.

"Y/N," Dean's voice spoke behind me. I spun around instantly relieved. He's okay, he's alive. Why did Sam call me? I smiled brightly, backtracking to run to him. He was holding a hammer for some reason and watched me a little confused. He dropped the hammer happily accepting my hug. I smiled brightly, hugging him as tight as I could knowing the whole 3 hours drive it took me to get here I thought Dean was dead or was dying. Tears escaped my eyes the whole way here. I must look pathetic, I barely see them all year and now I show up crying and most likely completely overreacting.

"Oh, my God. Dean I thought you were dead," I commented, pulling away to smile at him. He seemed to study me a little longer than a normal person would. The thing is, I am crazy about Dean and can never tell if he likes me as more of an acquaintance. I raised an eyebrow waiting for him to say something. He smirked, my mood instantly lifting just from the sight. I have never seen anyone ever look at good as Dean. I've seen a lot of hot men in my life but none of them are anything compared to Dean.

"Why'd you think I was dead?" He asked, a smirk still present on his lips. I chuckled softly, a little awkwardly.

"Sam left me a message saying there was something wrong and it was about you," I explained and he nodded, taking in my words.

"And you drove straight here, crying the whole time?" He seemed to ask but his voice was flat. I chuckled dryly. Wiping under my eyes to hide some of the evidence of my emotional state from earlier.

"Well, yeah. I thought you were dead. I was mourning," I sassed but his smirk grew, eyes looking deeper into mine than they normally did. Maybe something is wrong with Dean. I grew suspicious.

"I wouldn't mourn you," He stated simply, I shook my head with a scoff. Smiling as I watched him study my expression.

"I don't doubt it, you're like a robot without feelings," I joked, he pulled a face as if he was proud of it. My eyebrows furrowed slightly, he didn't have a snarky remark to come back with, there had to be something wrong.

"I would agree but I have some emotions," He replied as if the answer was simple but I looked at him confused. He's being serious, what's he saying? He smirked watching me. "Like right now I feel like kissing you, seeing which room it leads to," He commented. My breath hitched in my throat. He wants to kiss me?! I parted my lips to say something but nothing came to mind. He smirked, stepping closer to me. I backed away, instincts telling me that something was wrong, my inside begging to see what would happen. He continued smirking, advancing till my back hit a wall. He grinned when I had nowhere to go.

He continued towards me, closing the distance till he was practically pressed against me. I gulped studying his eyes as I internally begged him to kiss me like I always did around him. He leaned down, hand on the back of my neck. He pulled me in the rest of the way till our lips crashed together. He kissed me roughly. I had imagined kissing Dean thousands of times but I never imagined it being like this. It was almost as if he needed to kiss me or he wouldn't live another day. I placed a hand on his chest while the other found the back of his hair. He smirked against my lips, his tongue sliding into my mouth with ease.

Butterflies flew through my veins, my whole body melting into the kiss. His hands held me roughly, the hand on the back of my neck keeping me close, a hand on my waist holding my body against his. I moaned softly as he held me tighter.

A whirling sound echoed through the halls before a small siren sounded. Dean didn't seem to care as he didn't react to the sound. I pulled away, looking down the hall as the lights dimmed and turned red. I looked back at Dean confused. He looked emotionless. My eyebrows furrowed as to why he seemed indifferent about the lights and loss of power. I opened my mouth, about the speak.

"Y/N!" Sam shouted, I looked down the hall as Dean did the same. Dean smirked at him. "Demon," He announced pointing at Dean. I quickly looked at Dean as he smirked and flashed his black-covered eyes at me. I punched him as hard as I could, his hands falling from my body as he held his cheek. I ran to Sam watching slightly as Dean looked pissed.

I ran with Sam through the halls, Dean wasn't running. Strolling casually. "You could have warned me," I argued quietly as he guided me through the halls.

"I didn't have time," Sam tried but I scoffed.

"It takes two seconds to say the word demon," I argued. He shushed me as we turned a corner and he stopped me. We listened closely as Dean walked around, a raised voice as he taunted Sam with how he escaped. I'm a little lost about what happened but there is a demon in Dean and that's my only concern right now.

"Dean is the demon, it's not a possession it's Dean," Sam whispered. I looked at him baffled.

"What the fuck? Why didn't you call me earlier?" I asked, fighting my wish to scream at him.

"I thought I had a handle on it," Sam shrugged not believing himself. I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

"Clearly," I whispered back, sassing him with sarcasm. I swear, these boys get dumber and dumber every time I see them. Sam looked at me uneasy as the power came on. I rolled my eyes as he rushed around the corner and closed the door to the electrical room where Dean was.

"Really, that's your big move?" Dean's voice was slightly muffled by the door but he showed no emotions in his tone. Why did he kiss me? I understand that he was probably messing with me but he had the perfect opportunity to kill me and he didn't. It's just weird.

"Listen to me. We were getting close, Okay?" Sam explained through the door. I rolled my eyes knowing he was a hopeless fool thinking he could talk this out with him. He doesn't have a soft spot he can get through to... Or maybe? No that's stupid. But.... No. Okay, maybe. "I know you're still in there somewhere. Just let me finish the treatments," I thought quickly as Sam waited for a response as if we didn't all know the answer was going to be violence. "Dean?" Sam jumped back as a heavy thud hit the door. I rolled my eyes.

"You act like I want to be cured," Dean grunted as he broke the door down from the inside. I took a deep breath, knowing I was either going to die here or live long enough to do something incredibly stupid and then die in this bunker. "Personally, I like the disease," Dean smirked evilly through the hole in the door he had created. My heart races. Mentally preparing for my own stupidity.

"Dean, stop that. Look I don't want to use this blade on you," Sam shouted, trying to gain some control of the situation.

"Oh, that sucks for you, doesn't it?" He asked sarcastically. "Cause you really mean that," He chuckled before slamming a hammer into the door again.

"If you come out of that room I won't have a choice," Sam tried, trying to sound strong.

"Sure you will! and I know which one you'll make," Dean taunted, knowing Sam didn't have the strength to kill his own brother. "Isn't that right Sammy?" I had gone ignored this whole time. I grabbed my gun from the holster strapped to my hip. Dean's eyes found mine through the hole in the door. He chuckled dryly. "Oh, you're going to kill me?" He asked sarcastically. I gulped. "You're in love with me, you wouldn't hurt me. I was surprised you even punched me and now you're going to shoot me?" He asked annoyance in his tone along with a taunting smirk.

"You're right," I spoke softly, my heart racing. He smirked stepping back ready to take another swing. I watched as his eyebrows furrowed before his eyes widened. He watched intently as I raised the gun, barrel pressing to my right temple. He looked at me slightly angry.

"Put it down," He instructed through gritted teeth. Keeping his voice down so he didn't scare me. A tear escaped my eye unconsciously. "I said, put it down," His voice showed his venom.

"Y/N, what you doing?" Sam asked looking at me like I was crazy.

"You said you only felt one thing, I was that one thing. You break that door down, you don't finish the treatment or if you even glare at Sam I'll pull this trigger faster than you can apologise," I explained simply. Emotions leaving my tone. Dean seemed to recognise that I wasn't bluffing. He lifted his hands, slowly dropping the hammer. I gulped. My life rests in Dean's hands.

"Just put the gun down," He spoke softly, his eyes looking pleading.

"I'm not putting it down until you're tied up and cooperating," I explained. He nodded, his eyes lowering and I could see he admitted defeat. I can't believe this is working. I didn't realise Dean cared for me this much but I'm glad he does. "Sam," I instructed without words.

Sam opened the door for Dean, stepping back in case he tried anything. He seemed to study me before scoffing, I worried he had tricked me.

"The safety-" He started. I aimed the gun up taking one shot before putting the gun back to my head. Sam and Dean flinched at the sudden shot.

"I'm not bluffing," I explained coldly. He studied me, heart rate increasing before he put his hands up and led the way to the cellar. He kept his eyes low as he took a seat in the metal chair but studied me as Sam tied him up. Once Sam confirmed it was clear I lowered the gun. Putting the safety on and unloading it. Dean seemed to take a deep breath of relief.

It was a while before Dean was conscious again, I gave him some of my blood since we have the same type, something we figured out years ago when he was electrocuted and in hospital. He joked he was going to keep me around in case he needed blood. I smiled softly at the memory. Cas had joined us, explaining he was already on his way to save us but was shocked we had it under control.

"How'd you do it?" He asked, looking between Sam and me. Sam and I had already explained the lead-up to what I did. Sam wondered how after so much human blood he could still want to be a demon. Cas explained it was easier to feel nothing than the pain of being human. I thought it was poetic.

"Y/N appealed to his human heart," Sam explained cryptically. I rolled my eyes.

"I threatened to shoot myself," I explained with a shrug. I couldn't take my eyes off Dean. Watching as his head was limp unconscious.

"Even as a demon he's in love with you," Cas commented, seemingly in a world of his own. My neck almost snapped as I quickly looked at him.

"What?" I asked, the word falling from my mouth.

"Dean's in love with you, even as a demon. Did you not know?" He asked as if it was a complete shock to him, his eyebrows furrowed as he watched me slightly.

"No, what makes you think he's in love with me?" I asked, a scoff wanting to come out but it wouldn't like it was too scared.

"Because I say it all the time," I looked over at Dean as he lifted his head. His eyes were black but soon dissolved back to the beautiful green. I watched amazed. Gulping slightly at his words. Sam splashed some holy water on his face. Definitely human. I smiled softly.

"Welcome back, Dean," Sam smirked, proud to have his brother back.

I stayed off to the side as Sam untied Dean. Cas waited in the library while we got Dean situated. He kept looking at me, a guilty expression on his face but every time I smiled softly. Dean hinted that he wanted food and so Sam took it as his hint to leave Dean and me alone.

"Y/N," He started as soon as the door closed behind Sam. His voice was full of sorrow. I shushed him as I closed the distance between us He was sitting on his bed, he watched me closely as I smiled at him. I let my body work without my brain being involved. I climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He looked completely shocked, his hands to his sides like he was scared to touch me.

"Shut up," I smirked, leaning in as I pulled him in by the back of his neck. I connected our lips, he seemed dazed for a second before his lips moved against mine, his hands hugging my waist as he kissed me back. His tongue entered my mouth with ease again. He smiled against my lips as our tongues danced.

I wrapped an arm over his shoulder, keeping him close as his hands explored me. They ventured down to my ass, squeezing harshly, a moan escaping my mouth and entering Dean's. He grunted, enjoying the sound. It reminded me of the grunts he had done when breaking down the door. I thought of how he kissed me even when he was a demon, the roughness, the need magnified and I could tell he was holding back now. I pulled back, quickly moving my lips to his neck.

He moaned, his head falling back as I sucked open-mouthed kisses onto his neck. "Y/N," He moaned breathlessly. I smirked as I continued kissing his neck. "I want you to move in," He explained. I paused, shocked slightly at the progression. Just 30 minutes ago I found out he loves me, not he's asking me to move in while we're finally enjoying each other. He pulled back to study me. Pleading eyes. "I'm sorry to spring it on you, I just. I've thought about it a lot and after today I can't trust myself to be alone with Sam and if I'm being honest I'm afraid of this," He explained gesturing between us. I looked at him sadly. I've thrown myself at him. I'm being ridiculous. He's just turned human again and I'm initiating sex. I'm sick.

"Sorry," I commented absentmindedly as I moved to get off his lap. His hands found my hips stopping me from getting up.

"No, I'm scared that I'll ruin it. Cas was right though, I am in love with you, I don't just want to have sex I want the real thing, the love, the relationship, all of it. Good and bad," He confessed, worry riddling his expression. I smiled softly.

"Dean, I want those too. You're not going to ruin it. I was willing to die for you less than an hour ago. You think I would do that for anyone else?" I asked rhetorically. He chuckled, noticing his mistake. He grinned widely.

"So, you'll go on a date with me?" He asked, the grin only growing wider.

"Of course, you goof," I chuckle, leaning in to reconnect our lips. He smiled against my lips his hands gripping me harder.

"Maybe we should stop," He commented, pulling away slightly. I looked at him expectantly wanting to know why. I'll get off of him if he wants me to but if he thinks that I want to then he's wrong. "I don't know if it's the leftover demon inside me, or if it's pent-up frustration or finally kissing you but I don't think I can contain myself," He confessed. His expression was thoughtful as he stared into my eyes. I smirked.

"Good," I answered simply, reconnecting our lips. He smirked, understanding my intentions. He snaked his arm around my waist, pulling my body closer to his. I smirked against his lips. He bit my bottom lip. Smirking as he pulled back. I glared at him with hungry eyes. His hands gripped my ass tighter, holding me against his body as he stood up. I squealed slightly surprised he was strong enough to lift me with no effort. Dean smirked against my lips. He turned around, lowering me onto the bed as he came down with me. Settling between my legs and hovering over me.

My tongue fighting his as I crave more of him, all of him. His hips seemed to fit against mine comfortably, perfectly. Like he was made to be there. His hands explored my body before finding the neck of my shirt and ripping it open. I squealed, my lips falling from his from the surprise. He wasn't joking about not being able to control him. I smirked excitedly, quickly reconnecting our lips. He ripped the rest of my shirt off my body. I'm glad I wasn't wearing a bra today, who knows if he was strong enough to rip that.

I moaned as his warm hands traced the lengths of my chest. His fingertips softly rubbed my body in a gentleness I didn't expect. It was like he was trying to map out my body with his hands, to memorise every pump and dip. I gripped his shirt, pulling it up before disconnecting our lips to lift it over his head. As the fabric passed his face he smirked, smiling happily as he moved back in to kiss me. My hands explored his back muscles as they contorted to my touch. He bit my bottom lip, pulling back a little before releasing it and starting. getting up. I smirked, watching him with hungry eyes. No matter how often I see Dean shirtless it will always weaken me.

He swiftly unbuttoned his jeans before stepping out of them. I gulped as I watched his dick press against his boxers, clearly hard and above average. He smirked as he watched my reaction clearly pleased. I blushed as he moved closer, grabbing the hem of my pants, I lifted my hips as he pulled them from my body. He trailed his hand up my leg, sending shivers down my spine as he reached closer to where I was wet for him. I gulped as he was close. He pushed his fingers between my sensitive skin and underwear. I smirked. He saw this as consent and slowly started pulling my underwear down. When I lifted my hips again he quickly pulled them off me, like if I didn't he would have stopped. I smiled at his adorableness. He stood up straight, putting his thumbs into boxers and slid them past his hips.

His dick sprang free. My first instinct was for my jaw to drop open but I bit my bottom lip to keep my mouth shut. I giggled as he smirked at me. He came back to me, hovering over me as he kissed me. I moaned as his tip poked my inner thigh. I reached between us, grasping his dick as he moaned against my lips. I smirked, the sound I didn't know I needed to hear but will forever be in my mind. I stroked the length of his cock as my pussy grew wetter. Even the thought of him makes me wet but this is making a waterfall.

His cock was so hard I wondered if it was hurting. I smirked against his lips as I removed my hand from between us and flipped us over so I was on top. I straddled him, his dick pointed up to the ceiling as I sat high on his thighs. He smirked, biting his bottom lip as he watched me. I smirked as I looked down at him. I leant down, kissing him as his hands moved down my sides and rested on my hips. I lifted my hips, moving my hand between us as he smirked against my lips. I licked his bottom lip, his tongue soon meeting mine. I grasped his hard cock, holding it steady as I lowered myself onto it.

I gasped against his lips as he smirked. He moved a hand to the back of my neck, pulling my lips back onto his. I lowered myself further on his cock. Moaning as he filled me and reached deeper than I thought was possible. I wanted to scream in pleasure as it throbbed inside me, I bit his bottom lip. I pulled away with hungry eyes. He looked at me deeply, admiring me as my eyebrows contorted with pleasure. His smirk grew as I adjusted to his size, a short pause before I began rocking my hips. He breathed through gritted teeth as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I moaned at the sight.

I rocked my hips against his, my head falling back as the pleasure consumed me. Dean's hands found my hips, pushing and pulling me softly as he pushed his hips into me. I moaned as his tip pushed against my G-spot. Dean's groan made me feral. I wanted nothing more than to hear it again. I sat up fully, His dick reaching deeper inside me, a soft scream escaping my lips before I hurried to cover my mouth. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I quickened the pace. Dean's hands still guided my hips as he moaned, watching me and where our bodies met, his dick buried deep inside me. I placed a hand on his firm chest, using it to anchor myself.

God, he's amazing! The familiar feeling of an orgasm edged closer. I moaned as he pushed deep inside me, his tip kissing my G-spot again. "Fuck, Dean," I moaned, looking at him with hooded and needy eyes. He smirked, biting his bottom lip as he continued. "Fuck, if you keep going I'm going to cum," I managed through my laboured breaths.

"Cum for me, Y/N," His voice was pornographic. It was enough to make me do anything he wanted. I would act like a dog for this man if he asked me to. My thoughts clouded as my orgasm grew an inch closer. He seemed to recognise this as he lifted his hips, and my G-spot hit with a force I knew would make it hard for me to walk properly later. A scream escaped my lips as my orgasm peaked. Dean moved his hand to my mouth, quietening me as he continued pushing into me and rolling my hips with his hands. My legs clenched his side as my orgasm overtook my body. He groaned as my walls clenched around him, his laboured breathing becoming more jagged as he gripped my hips a little tighter, bruise causing tightness.

My orgasm subsided as he helped me ride it out. I practically turned to jelly in his hands. He smirked, moving his hand from my mouth and easing my upper body towards him. I smiled kissing him as his hands found my hips and lifted them slightly, my eyebrows furrowed with confusion before he bucked his hips up to meet mine. I moaned into his mouth, his tongue entering mine with the opportunity. His tongue silenced me as I tried not to scream. He thrust into my G-spot, pounding it relentlessly. He moved a hand to my cheek, pulling away a little to rest my forehead on his. His heavy breathing mixed with mine as a light coat of sweat formed on our bodies. I gasped, whimpering as I tried not to scream.

"Fuck," I moaned louder than intended but it seemed to cheer Dean on as his thrust became more precise. I moaned, my eyes rolling back, his tip hitting my G-spot with every thrust. The knot in my stomach came back quickly. "Fuck, Dean. I'm getting close again," He grunted at my words. His speed picking up slightly. He leaned up to kiss me, his tongue entering my mouth as he now knew I was the screaming type. His tongue silenced me as my orgasm peaked once again. His hand on my hip holding me securely my body shook from the power of the orgasm. I have never felt something so powerful. He fucked me through my second orgasm, slowing as he recognised I was coming down.

I pulled back, breathing heavily he lowered me back down onto him. I whimpered as I took all of him in again. He smirked kissing me sloppily as I wondered how he was doing this to me with ease. "Get on your hands and knees," He instructed. His tone was dark and his eyes piercing. I gulped, nodding excitedly as I kissed him quickly before getting off of him. I felt empty as I climbed off him. He rolled from under me so I could get in position on the bed. My knees were barely on the bed, my hands holding up my upper body as he stood at the edge of the bed. His hands found my hips. I moaned as he slapped my ass harshly. I bit my bottom lip.

He held my hips in place as he lined up his tip to my entrance, pulling me in slightly as he pushed into me. I moaned, eyes rolling to the back of my head as my head lost all weight. I whimpered, biting harshly on my bottom lip. His hand moved up my back before settling between my shoulder blades and softly pushing me down. I rolled my hips forward as I lay my chest against the bed and arched my back.

"Fuck," Dean moaned, his hand moving trailed up my back and found my hips again. He held my hips steady as he started to slowly fuck me. His pace practically quivered as he resisted going faster. I moaned, the pace making me weak. His grip on my hips was as strong as steel, keeping me in place. He moaned, breathing in through gritted teeth as he picked up the pace. My head fell limp as I moaned, his hips now pulling me in to meet him in the middle, his dick hitting my G-spot and massaging my walls. I gripped onto the bed sheet, biting down on my arm to silence myself. Whimpers escape my lips. "I want to hear you, baby," He commented, his breath laboured. His hand found my hair, pulling slightly so my head was up, neck extended and making it impossible to silence myself. My moans fall freely and loudly. "Fuck, just like that," He commented.

"Fuck, Dean!" I practically screamed as he pushed down on my hips to reach a new angle. The knot in my stomach contorting and tightening.

"Fuck, I'm getting close," He moaned. My body grew weak at his words and voice. My orgasm teased me with being seconds away.

"Me too, Dean. Fuck," I moaned. His hard dick throbbing inside me, hitting my G-spot.

"Mmm," He hummed before his nails dug into my skin. I moaned, my orgasm beginning to tip over. "I'm gonna cum," He practically shouted through his moan. My walls clenched around him as my orgasm peaked, his thrust still rough and deep but sloppy. A scream escaped my extended neck as his cum shot forcefully deep inside me. He grunted. Pushing deep inside me with each spurt of cum he shot into me. My orgasm seemed to last longer, his cum making it peak each time.

He breathed heavily, his hands staying on me as he stood still. My legs grew shaky as my body went limp. My breathing was erratic as he slowly pulled out of me. I practically collapsed on the bed as Dean chuckled lying beside me. I chuckled, admiring him as he grinned at me. He lifted his arm, waiting for me. I crawled up a little, snuggling into his side as he wrapped his arm around me. He smiled up at the ceiling as I blushed. If I had known the sex would be this good I would have made a move the day I met him. He looked down at me, moving some hair from my face as it stuck to some sweat on my face. Dean looked heavenly, the sweat looking like it was painted on his body perfectly as if an artist had the smallest brush in the world, working for hours to make it. He pulled me in with the arm around me, kissing the top of my head as I smiled.

"How about," He started, looking down at me with a smile. I smiled, turning slightly to put my hand on his chest and placing my chin on the top of my hand, admiring him as he talked. He chuckled slightly, his smile never fading. "We'll take a shower, get you cleaned up. Maybe some shower sex if your legs aren't too weak." I blushed at the thought. "We'll go get you things for you to move in and go on a date?" He asked, tucking some hair behind my ear as I smiled. I bit my lip nodding enthusiastically. His smile beamed as he admired me. He leaned down, and I met him in the middle connecting our lips. The kiss was sweet, sincere as if with a loving couple. I smiled as I pulled away.

"Dean," He looked at me expectantly. I blushed as I smiled. "I love you too," I added. His smile spread across his face as he leaned back in to kiss me. I giggled against his lips as he smiled. This is perfect.

Masterlist

Working On

An extremely long chapter but I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know in the comments if you read it all so I know if you guys like long chapters or want me to make it shorter in future. Thank you! 💜💜

[raveneira]

Could you explain how the spoilers are bad for Sarada? I'm a little lost here

Because they show Sarada in the terrible light shes always been in but never been called out on it until now which was long overdue tbh but it needed to be said, just since now there's finally a light being shined on it, there's no ignoring it anymore, so now its not just the fandom saying it but its an actual canon conflict being addressed now, not just ppl speculating that's the case, it IS the case 100% now and its a terrible look for Sarada.

As for how well just look at how it all played out and see it through Sumire's pov, not the readers.

Sumire asked Sarada how she felt about Boruto FIRST to see how she felt and Sarada told her point blank with no hesitation or sign of lying that no she isn't interested and it doesn't bother her if other girls like him.

Keyword to remember:

It doesnt bother her if other girls like him

This is what leads Sumire to feel comfortable admitting her feelings to her, because Sarada said she isn't bothered, so Sumire tells her that she does like him and that it DOES bother her, much to Sarada's surprise but at no point does Sarada ever backtrack on her statement, leaving Sumire to believe that everything she said is true, that she doesn't like Boruto and doesn't mind if other girls like him, so Sumire feels comfortable to pursue a romance with Boruto without stepping on Sarada's toes.

In this moment Sumire is considering Sarada's feelings first, she easily could've pursued Boruto without ever asking Sarada how she felt, she doesn't own Boruto, he's not an object she called dibs on, so Sumire had no obligation to approach Sarada for 'permission' but she did, because she didn't wanna go behind her friends back going after somebody her friend liked, she wanted to know how Sarada felt first before saying anything about her own feelings, this is important considering what happens later in the timeskip that not enough ppl consider.

I get how on the surface this looks pretty petty, that's her childhood friend shes been worried about for 3 years so an emotional hug in relief isn't really anything to be mad over, but again, you gotta look at it from SUMIRE'S pov to understand how fked up this looks to her.

First you have to look at what Sumire says to Sarada, because she doesn't only talk about the hug, that's just one of many examples of Sarada not giving any thought to anyone else's feelings, that's just the example she chose to use here.

This is before she mentions the hug, Sumire is spot on in everything she says here because Sarada, even tho well intended, is being not only stupid but also extremely selfish here and the ppl trying to argue that it isn't are both delusional and in denial, especially the ones using Hinata to prove the point when Hinata herself literally says shes being SELFISH in what shes doing.

And what happened because of Hinata's selfishness? how did it affect Naruto?

Yeah, Naruto had a complete and total mental breakdown, he was in pain, suffering in agony, so much so he nearly gave into Kurama which would've killed him if he unsealed him that only by the grace of Minato thinking 16 years ahead was that prevented, otherwise Hinata doomed him to an early death by making him lose control like that with her selfishness.

Thats not a jab at Hinata btw, Naruto has been equally selfish and inconsiderate regarding Sasuke and others too at times, its only human, nobody is 100% unselfish and unflawed ALL the time that's just basic human nature, so there's nothing wrong with pointing out Hinata was selfish here just like there's nothing wrong to point out Sarada is too, it doesn't make them bad ppl, It just makes them human.

This is exactly what Sumire was talking about when she told Sarada to actually THINK for a moment, because for the past 3 years she hasn't thought about a got danm thing and it shows and this was just the final tipping point for Sumire because of what just happened recently, you'd think Sarada would've learned her lesson, wised up, realized the position shes in but no, instead she stupidly asks Ada where Boruto is so they could go chase after him, AFTER LITERALLY ALL THIS JUST HAPPENED

All this JUST HAPPENED and she has the AUDACITY to ask where Boruto is to try and chase after him, THAT was the tipping point for Sumire because this is not the first time Sarada was this annoyingly careless and even after getting humbled STILL repeated the same mistakes and Sumire is understandably fed up with it and calling her out, it was long overdue.

Why does Sarada need to know where Boruto is? what does she plan to do? go after him and then what? help fight the enemies that 1 v everybody like nothing? the same enemy that almost ate her alive? the one Boruto had to save her ass from? and will have to save her ass again?

Sumire is absolutely right, Boruto only struggled and got hurt because THEY were there and he had to keep in mind THEIR presence the entire time, if it was Boruto alone he might could've handled Hidari solo since he clearly doesn't have total mastery over Sasuke's arsenal yet, and he only got sniped because Kawaki stopped him to justifiably question wtf is going on, but again, these things wouldn't have happened if THEY weren't involved, he'd have defeated Hidari and dipped before Jura got a clean shot.

So Sumire is absolutely right, they are, at least currently, a liability to Boruto, they are just in his way, a distraction, as much as they might WANT to help they simply cant, they don't have the power or the means to help him in the way KK and Kawaki can, but that doesn't mean Sarada and Sumire cant help AT ALL in OTHER ways, they just cant help him fight those enemies like Sarada is stupidly suggesting after literally just getting bodied by said enemies and needing saving.

The fact that she is so unselfaware is also highly annoying because she thinks Boruto cant handle these enemies on his own despite him literally saving Hima AND her back to back with seconds to spare and then hard carrying everybody the entire fight and yet STILL had to make time to save Sarada in between charging up Uzuhiko, which he couldn't even do to completion because they couldn't even buy him enough time to so he just went with what he had, which ended up only blowing him in half that only by the grace of Kawaki appearing when he did was Hidari finished off before he healed himself.

This is whats frustrating about Sarada, because even with all this happening right in front of her eyes she still cant take a hint, she still lacks self awareness, something she lacked 3 years ago and still does now, she hasn't developed ONE BIT from then to now.

Even if her running after him is understandable Im not saying it isn't, but she doesn't ever think before she acts, her intent is to help yet she has 0 plan for how, like for example Hinata jumping in to help Naruto, how did she help him? despite knowing she was outmatched, she fought him, lost, but she did throw hands at him to buy Naruto even just a little more time

What did Sarada plan to do? absolutely nothing, she shot a fireball that Kawaki absorbed and then just stood there with a kunai ready while Kawaki approached her and slashed at her, she didn't even activate her Sharingan or get into a fighting stance, she was literally weak kneed and nervous and just waited to be attacked, needing to be saved by the very person SHE went there to save, costing him his eye, and she does ZERO reflection.

You'd think after that type of fumble she'd know better and DO better now but she doesn't, she does the EXACT same thing she did then, she is stupidly trying to run to 'help' Boruto with no danm game plan, even after just being humbled by these enemies she stupidly thinks Boruto actually needs their help despite them being in his way the entire time and holding him back.

Anyway I made my point there so lets move on but its important to why Sumire is getting fed up with her, because it doesn't take rocket science to put together that Boruto left with both his eyes but only lost one after Sarada went to go 'help' him, or hell I wouldn't be surprised if Sarada told her, either way its safe to assume Sumire knows this which is partially why shes irritated with Sarada's lack of self awareness.

First Boruto lost his eye because of her, then Boruto gets badly wounded trying to protect her and everyone else there, now she hears Ada saying Boruto is deliberately avoiding them to not get them involved as much as possible and Sarada stupidly asks for his location completely ignoring the elephant in the room, disregarding Borutos feelings and what just happened entirely because of what SHE wants and Sumire understandably had enough.

So moving on from Saradas lack of self awareness and selfishness, lets move onto what she says about the hug and why its also justified from Sumire's pov.

As a viewer this seems petty but again, you have to see this from Sumire's pov, as I mentioned 3 years ago, all the way back in chapter 19, Sumire approached Sarada FIRST before ever acting on her feelings to see how SHE felt about Boruto first before saying how she felt herself and Sarada told her she had no interest in him and that it doesn't bother her if other girls like him, so in Sumire's eyes she doesn't have to feel awkward about liking Boruto, that she can tell Sarada without causing any hard feelings in their friendship, Sarada GAVE HER that impression.

Sumire gave her the chance to come clean about how she feels, she asked her point blank and Sarada said NO, making Ssumire feel completely comfortable in confessing how she felt and pursuing him.

So for Sarada to give Sumire that impression, then after that run after Boruto as some grand proof of love [doesn't have to be romantic, after all Naruto and Sasuke risked their lives for each other out of love too] only to cost Boruto his eye, then when the whole world turned against Boruto she completely folded under pressure leaving Sumire to pick up all the pieces and holding HER together which is the ONLY reason she even thought of begging Sasuke for help, otherwise she would've left Boruto to die if not for Sumire saying their the only ones who could help him.

After Sasuke goes to save Boruto, we see Sumire by Saradas side supporting her, and before Boruto leaves he asks Ada to thank Sarada for sending Sasuke his way, having NO idea that it was actually Sumire who helped make that happen, nor that shes also unaffected and on his side as well.

3 years later and Sarada hasnt changed at all, all shes done is yap and lose her temper at Shikamaru consistently for 3 yrs straight and then complain to Sumire about it afterwards, she says 'again' implying this is a repeated occurrence that she whines to Sumire about afterwards everytime.

I want you to put yourself in Sumire's shoes, imagine your friend, the only other person you have to count on during this hard time just constantly fumbling, and not just fumbling, but also screwin up in ways that hurts the guy you like as well, but you still try to be a good friend and support her and just bite your tongue to preserve the friendship cuz you don't wanna come off mean or insensitive to their struggles despite you struggling as well and nobodies considering that.

Sumire tolerated Sarada's complete and total lack of consideration for her and how she felt and how shes struggling for 3 whole years, all the while constantly putting up with Sarada's complaining, her outbursts, her reckless behavior, shes remained calm and compassionate through it all because their all they've got to depend on now due to omnipotence, so you would think Sarada would consider Sumire but she DOESNT, instead it is always SUMIRE considering HER but she never receives that in return.

This is why the hug may sound petty on the surface, but that is just one example of a much larger problem.

Like Sumire says, she understands why Sarada acted the way she did, but when she asks did she ever consider how SHE felt, even tho its in reference to the hug, her question applies to everything

When Sarada hugged Boruto infront of her like that, knowing how she felt about him, knowing how worried she was about him too, knowing how relieved she'd be seeing Boruto alive and well too, did those thoughts ever cross her mind? no, because Sarada doesn't think about Sumire or how she feels

For context on why this looks bad from Sumire's pov is because unlike Sumire, Sarada actually SAW Boruto once already before this, SHE got to see Boruto alive and well in person, Sumire didn't, she just heard Boruto was in the village but never got to see him for herself.

It wasnt until chapter 5 where he revealed himself to BOTH of them that Sumire finally got to see Boruto again, and before she could even say or do anything Sarada threw herself at him with no regard for how Sumire was feelings, like she wasn't even there.

You can say Sarada was 'overwhelmed' seeing her friend again because she already saw him, she already knew he was ok, so this wasn't some spur of the moment thing, which is why there's an extra sting from this moment, BECAUSE shes already seen him, had time to process him being ok, had time to feel the relief and joy that Boruto was alive and well and strong enough to scare Code into retreat.

Sumire didnt get any of that tho, so there was probably a lot Sumire wanted to say or do when she finally saw him again, but Sarada didn't give her that chance, it was literally INSTANT before Sumire had even fully turned around she was already running to him.

Im not condemning Sarada for hugging her friend, that's stupid, Im just pointing out from Sumire's pov WHY this moment looked bad and rubbed her the wrong way.

Sumire's question is spot on, whereas Sumire was considerate of Sarada's feelings and understood why she reacted that way and STILL was attentive to how awkward she was feeling and made the effort to ease the tension, Sarada didn't consider Sumire AT ALL in that moment and hasn't been this entire time when you really play it all back.

Here are quotes by Sarada regarding Boruto to Sumire, or about Sumire, see if you notice something.

I only found out...that Boruto had died...after he had already been resurrected. At the time, I didn't even know...that he was in danger. Now that I know...I cant just stand around doing nothing!

But...this? its too cruel! why cant Boruto ever get a break?

But...you saw it too didnt you? if it'd gone badly...Boruto might've died instead of being wounded!

Its too reckless for him...to take on those monsters by himself!

Notice anything? not a single thought about Sumire, not one dialogue directed at her, about her, or how she feels

Now lets look at the same thing but this time from Sumire to Sarada about Boruto or about Sarada.

Stay calm Sarada! dont get flustered! Listen...if Ada finds out about this...it'll likely be bad! Think about it, those who become her captives...cant even think about attacking her! but...the two of us would actually be able to attack her! in short, there's a high possibility...that Ada would deem us security risks!

Sarada no! its too dangerous!

Calm down Sarada, you should be fine, actually you and me both. I don't have it all figured out yet, but given the facts...I'd say that Ada...is involved somehow.

Either way, you and I may be the only ones...who can help Boruto right now. And yet...Im not sure what we can do.

Sarada! you okay!?

Master Konohamaru! protect Sarada!! his target is Sarada! I think-- No, I know it!

Sarada, hang in there! Sarada!

Boruto! This foe is clearly after Sarada! just now...he completely ignored Master Konohamaru...and went for Sarada instead, the moment he saw her!

So many mentions of Sarada, concern, worry, thought for her wellbeing, thought for her mental state, supporting her, there for her.

When you look at all of that, Sumire's quote here really hits hard.

I've...tried to be respectful of your feelings. To understand that you reaction in that moment was to be expected. But...what about you Sarada? when you...were in front of me...did you think about my feelings at all...even just a little bit?

And that right there is what makes Sarada look so bad this chapter, because she DIDNT and when you play it all back, she NEVER has thought about her feelings, not even a little.

I am by no means saying this chapter makes Sarada a horrible person, nor am I saying shes a bad person or friend, but she does have bad friend tendencies that went unaddressed for far too long and its ok to call it out, nobodys perfect, the important thing is whether or not Sarada will finally REFLECT on these flaws and work to change and better herself, only time will tell but for now this opens the door for some much needed development for both of them that I hope Ikemoto doesn't fumble.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Caged In (part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Day 4: Courtier and emissary

Summary: the secret Y/n had bribed Lucien with is finally revealed.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: 😈

(Yes, thats all i got to say)

(Edit: Also, i dont think theres much angst(?))

@lucienweekofficial

•○🌑○•

The silence that permeated the air nearly suffocated Y/n.

Her ears were wondering why they couldn't hear anything.

Her brain was shaking its head at her.

Her heart was crying.

And her eyes were searching his, trying to find a way to rectify her mouth's mistake.

But he simply stared at her, his face stoic, no emotions that she could understand.

"So. You, are telling me, that Beron, is not my father?"

She nodded, short of words.

"You're telling me, that the male who abused my mother, made my life a living hell, is not the one who sired me?"

Y/n swallowed, blinking back tears as she again nodded.

Lucien started at her as if he didn't recognise her.

"Lucien–"

"No. No. Wait. Let me process what you just said." He began pacing at the foot of his bed, his hands joined in front of his face.

After that night in front of the bonfire, the two of them had slowly started spending less and less time together, limiting their interactions to just nods and hellos in passing in the past week.

An hour ago, Y/n had come into Lucien's room to finally tell him of his parentage, not able to keep it from him any longer. She had already made him wait for seven months now, and he never pushed her to tell him about it.

She had only told him that Beron was not his father. He was yet to know who it was. And she was dreading telling him that.

"How are you so certain that he's not my father?" He asked after a few tense moments, turning to her.

Y/n sighed. "Feyre figured it out."

"And how, exactly, did she figure it out?"

"She... she just did, alright? She saw you near your father and she knew."

"Wait– near my father? Does that mean we know each other?"

Shit.

"Yeah..."

He stiffened, then stalked around the bed to where she was sitting against the headboard, settling in front of her with his hands on her knees.

"Who is he?"

Y/n was regretting telling him about all of this, but now she was in too deep shit to backtrack.

"Um... I think Feyre could also have been wrong, you know. Maybe–"

"Fucking cauldron! Just tell me who it is!" He raised his voice, stunning Y/n for a moment. He sighed. "Look, just tell me who it is."

She swallowed before telling him. "H– Helion."

Time slowed to a crawl, and Lucien simply stared at her.

After what felt like eternity, he spoke up in a soft voice. "Helion. The high lord of day court. Is my..."

"Father. Yes."

He nodded slowly, searching her face as if for a hint of deception. Then he nodded again, more to himself as he stood. He simply stripped of the shirt he was as he began walking to the wardrobe.

Y/n scrambled up to follow him, her heart beating in her throat. "Lucien, hey, where are you going?"

He ignored her, pulling out a different and more elaborately decorated shirt, shrugging it on.

"Lucien–"

He whipped around, fury in his eyes as he stalked up to her. She took a step back, but he grabbed her wrist and pushed her up against the closest wall, his hands resting on either side of her head as he leaned in, caging her in.

She swallowed, searching his eyes.

"You couldn't have told me this before? Or later? Today was the only day you could think of telling me this?" He sneered.

Y/n blinked, taken aback. "Luc–"

"Don't. Just fucking stop speaking and leave me alone. Cauldron." He turned his back to her, rummaging in his wardrobe.

But this time, she ignored him. She wouldn't leave him alone, couldn't.

"What's gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?"

"Why am I acting like this?" He laughed, the sound void of any humor. "Because I just found out who I thought was my father was not my father. I would say my reaction is fucking valid, considering the information you just dropped on me."

"I get it, and you have all the right to react in any way you want, but why are you getting angry at me? And why the hell are you getting ready?"

He released a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. "Because I am supposed to meet him– my real father– in an hour."

Y/n's blood went cold.

This was worse than what she had thought.

"And how the fuck am I supposed to look him in the eye and pretend like nothing happened? Tell me Y/n. Tell me how I am supposed to sit through the dinner party and pretend like everything's alright. That he is not my father."

"Lucien... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have– I..."

He shook his head. "It's not your fault. You didn't even know I was going to be on emissary duty tonight. You didn't know anything. I'm so sorry." He sat against the wall he had pinned her against, his head in his hand.

She asked down next to him, silent, and placed her head on his shoulder.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I'll have to. Better sooner than later." He laid his head against hers, taking a deep breath.

After a moment, she came to a decision.

The confrontation about to come would be an important one, a hard one. He would need someone nearby.

How many times had he needed to not be on his own, needed someone to be there with him during hard times? He had been alone for far too long, had far too many people abandon him. She was not going to be one of those people.

"I'll come with you."

He looked at her, eyes wide. "Are you mad? You can't come with me. What if the inner circle somehow finds out about your whereabouts? They'll kill the both of us."

"They won't. I mean, they could try..."

He shook his head. "No. You are not coming–"

"Did you think I was asking you? I'm telling you. I'm coming with you. I don't care if they find me and lock me back up. Obviously, you will save me again, won't you?"

He laughed, pained. "Y/n, I still don't think that is a good idea."

"It's alright. I think it's a good idea."

He stared at her. "Why?" He whispered.

She smiled softly. "Because everyone deserves to have someone for them. If I were to do a confrontation with my father, I would definitely need someone near."

He placed a kiss on her head, his hand finding hers. "Thank you."

She grinned at him, and his eyes dropped to her lips.

He stared and stared. He swallowed, his eyes meeting hers before they dropped back to her lips.

"Fuck..." He muttered, looking away.

"I think we should get dressed then?" She mumbled when the silence and the awkwardness became roo much to bear. He nodded, standing up.

She turned to leave, but she couldn't shake the feeling of his heavy stare boring into her back.

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

The dinner went smoothly, and he conversed easily with the High Lord of Day Court. The one who was apparently his father.

Lucien wanted to laugh.

He had been sent here to request some kind of books for the priestesses who resided in the house of Wind. Of course, Helion agreed.

He was nice like that.

And Lucien bad been left to wonder. How would he react to the news Lucien was going to give him later tonight?

Currently, he was in one of the private sitting rooms of the day court, sitting on the couch opposite Helion with a drink in his hand. He hadn't bothered to see what he was drinking.

He sat silently, watching as his father and the love of his– Y/n, teased each other and laughed.

"You look like you have something to say Lucien. Is everything alright?"

Lucien nearly jumped out of his skin when Helion addressed him. Helion's eyes were shining with amusement, but Y/n's eyes were filled with understanding.

"Y/n? If you could give us a moment?"

He had brought her with him so that he could have some emotional support, but she the night progressed, he had come to the conclusion that he needed to do this by himself.

She searched his eyes. "Are you sure?"

He nodded, and she made her way out the door, waving at Helion and giving Lucien an encouraging smile.

"Is everything alright?" Helion questioned, lifting his glass of wine to his lips.

"That or the question, isn't it?"

Lucien asked wryly, building up his courage.

Then, taking a deep breath, the emissary of night court told the High Lord of the day court the truth.

"Apparently, you are my father."

A moment of dead silence.

And then a glass shattered.

•○🌑○•

Part 5

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @lizziesfirstwife

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Anyone want a mild TP sickfic? :)

I'll admit, I cheated on this a little - some of this was written before, but I just wanted to add more comfort and fluff to it. <3 Because Ordon Fam Fluff is wonderful.

Sicktember Prompt 4 - Hiding an illness

It had started subtly. A little choked back cough. Slower reaction timing.

By the first evening it had progressed to a headache. Link had written it off as just being tired.

But when Fado commented that Link had left the ranch abruptly, Rusl knew better than to wait it out. He'd gone to Link's home around dusk, and after a quick search of the abode, had come to the conclusion that Link was nowhere to be found.

Grabbing a torch as the daylight faded, he headed for the woods.

The trail was unorthodox, but present. Now that Rusl knew what to look for, it made tracking his son much easier. The grass was tousled just a hair, a few branches pushed aside, and one muddy spot bore half a paw print on it. A clump of black fur caught in a nearby bush pieced together the rest of the puzzle well enough.

Walking ahead carefully, Rusl's ears heard the sound of panting, and he turned towards the spring. When he reached the gate, he had to stop for a moment, his blood chilling.

A wolf was lying on its side at the edge of the spring, panting slowly. The sight of the animal in this spring, with a sword on Rusl's back and a torch in his hand, made him freeze up uncontrollably. He bit his tongue and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as images of the worst night of his life came unbidden in his mind, images of a wolf whining and bleeding, images of dark shadows morphing into a Hylian, images of his boy crying and bleeding to death.

Without thinking, Rusl immediately discarded his sword, trembling from head to foot. He took a step forward, trying to regain his focus. Then he took another step. The wolf whimpered, and Rusl backtracked three paces.

Come on, he berated himself. Get it together. Something's wrong with him.

Clenching the torch tightly, he stepped forward again, thought better of it, and pitched the torch into the spring to extinguish it. The splash caught the wolf's attention, and he watched his canine boy twitch, but do nothing beyond that.

"Link," Rusl said hoarsely, his throat dry, his heart racing. He blinked the images away again. For his own sake, he pleaded, "Please, turn back, son, I don't know what's wrong."

Link obeyed, shifting easily, still laying on his side, looking miserably and pale and sweaty. Rusl's chest released, allowing him to breathe normally again, and he hastened forward, kneeling beside his boy. The flush to Link's ashen cheeks clued him in, and he placed the back of his hand against the teenager's forehead.

He had a fever.

"S-sorry," Link slurred. "'m really tired. Thought... being a w-wolf would... make it feel better..."

Rusl sighed. "All you had to do was say you weren't feeling well, Link."

"'m ok, P-Pa..."

The resistance member's heart hurt listening to the boy try to reassure him, and he pulled him into his arms. "You will be, Link. Don't worry."

Link tried to argue, shifting weakly in Rusl’s arms as the pair walked through the village. He wasn’t going to be able to climb the ladder while carrying his ward, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave Link unattended, so they were going back to his house.

Uli seemed fairly resigned to the sight that greeted her at the doorway – she likely had seen the signs as well over the last twenty-four hours. She smiled and sighed. “I put blankets and pillows on the couch for him.”

Link immediately shriveled as Rusl gently laid him on the sofa. “S-sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” Uli soothed, slicking back sweaty hair from his forehead. “I’m making some soup for you. Rusl will help you get into something more comfortable.”

Rusl nodded with a smile, letting Uli run the house. She was far better of a caretaker when it came to illnesses to be honest, and he was happy to have her call the shots. He was still shaking jitters from the spring, anyway.

Spirits above. He thought he’d gotten passed that. But he supposed he’d just… not addressed it. Not with himself, at least.

Grabbing a spare nightshirt, Rusl wandered back into the den to find Link shivering under the blanket Uli had supplied. Sweat drenched his tunic, and he actively avoided eye contact when Rusl approached him.

“Link,” Rusl said as he crouched down, ignoring the mild strain in his knees. “Don’t feel guilty, son. It’s okay.”

“It’s stupid,” Link sniffled, wiping sweat off his brow with a shaky hand. “I c-can—can take care of—I’m s-sorry—”

Rusl interrupted him when he took a cloth and wiped Link’s face, stopping the boy’s fretting movements. “Link. You do so much for everyone. For the village, for the Resistance, for Hyrule. You saved the world. I think it’s fair for you to let others take care of you sometimes.”

His boy watched him a moment, eyes glassy and conflicted, and he sighed tiredly. “But you and Ma have Hana and Colin and that’s a lot, and you’re in the Resistance too. I…”

“It’s always our pleasure to take care of our boy,” Rusl whispered gently with a smile. “Always.”

Link bit his lip, eyes closing for a moment as he suddenly fought desperately for composure. Rusl let the boy have his privacy on the matter, instead shifting focus to helping him sit up and get into the nightshirt he’d brought.

Once Link was settled and tucked back in, Rusl wiped his face of both sweat and tears and pulled the chair over as Uli arrived with a steaming bowl of soup. Colin was next, stumbling in with half lidded eyes as he’d just gone to bed but had heard the commotion. Once he saw that Link was ill he couldn’t be convinced to go back to bed quite yet, and Hana awakening for some milk further roused him.

It was well into the night when Rusl was gently rocking Hana back and forth, patting her back after her mother had provided her with nourishment. Colin was sitting on the floor by the sofa while Link relaxed, having eaten the soup provided to him, and Uli sat in the chair, regaling her boys with yet another story. Link, despite being quite ill, kept his eyes half open to listen, enjoying listening to his mother’s words, and Colin’s head was slowly tipping to the side and bobbing as he tried to follow along as well. The fire had died down a fair amount, still filling the home with warmth while barely making a sound save for the occasional pop.

“Each little raindrop sparkles like jewels in the light of sacred springs,” Uli continued. She was currently telling one of Colin’s favorites, that being the origins of fairies. “When enough collect on the leaves of the spring, the colors shimmer and swirl, creating a rainbow. The spirits collect the rainbow water together. You can practically taste the magic in the air, like the cool sweet crispness of snow cream in your mouth, and it makes your heart flutter and makes you feel alive. The spirits hold the water in their hands, closed to the world, and when they open them, there lies a fairy. They take a piece of light with them wherever they go, guiding and healing anyone who crosses their path.”

“How many fairies are there?” Colin asked sleepily.

“More than I could ever count,” Uli answered. “But they hide. Their magic is special. Only good children can see them. A while ago, they made a special trip.”

“That’s how Hana is here!” Colin surmised. “Sera says fairies bring babies.”

Uli giggled. “Well. Your Pa certainly helped. You’ll learn more about that when you’re a little older.”

Rusl bit back a snort of laughter.

“But,” she carried on. “They did bring someone years ago. A little one of the forest, with twigs in his hair and little bits of bramble stuck to his clothes. They guided him to Ordon Village and blessed us more than any fairy could ever bless anyone.”

Link’s gentle breaths filled the air as he finally fell asleep, and both parents watched him a moment, their hearts full. Uli spoke of fairies and magic for a while longer, but it didn’t take long for Colin to follow his older brother’s lead. Rusl handed Hana to his wife and then gently carried Colin back to his bed, tucking him in and giving him a kiss good night. When he returned to the den, Uli was doing similar to Link. The couple headed to their room together, settling Hana in her crib.

“We truly are blessed, aren’t we?” Uli sighed happily as the pair settled into bed.

Rusl took her hand, kissing it, and smiled back at her. “Yes, we are.”

[kaasiand]

I played through Color Splash for the first time this past week, the last paper mario I hadn't played yet (I had watched a full playthrough back when it came out but hadn't played it for myself so I thought now might be a good time right before TTYD remake comes out) and felt constantly frustrated and left thinking to myself "wtf Sticker Star did this better" over and over. Like there were some good moments in there but a lot of the time it felt like the game wasn't taking itself seriously and trying TOO hard to be funny, to the point where it felt like it was making its own world less believable. Most of all though.. it only really made me want to revisit Sticker Star again. So... I'm doing that right now and man I'm actually having such a great time?

Sticker Star is MADE to be replayed and fucked around with. It rewards exploration AND experimentation, and it actually somehow manages to make the most of its lack of a proper exp system thanks to its nonlinearity. In the final level of World 1, I grabbed the stuff I needed to access the rest of worlds 2 and 3 without actually fighting the boss (I just backtracked my way out of the level lol) and just continued in W2 and W3. I have now finished like, only half of those two worlds but have defeated the big cheep cheep anyway and moved on to world 5. It's really cool how the game LETS you do this without having you be underlevelled, since you're always as strong as the stickers you hold. And you DO permanently become stronger, but it's through exploration rather than battling/grinding, using those max HP hearts found in the overworld!! I found one of them in W5 today in a secluded spot I had never even found before, which kinda made my jaw drop lmfao. And I suppose the album pages make you stronger through letting you hold more powerful and bigger stickers too

^ really funny stuff from the battles that I missed in Color Splash. Also in Color Splash's battles, the card list & steps to colour them in made everything so goddamn tedious; it was impossible to see a lot of your cards at once. Even the perfect action commands I'd often avoid because of the dramatic slow-mo effect (which got REALLY annoying real fast) which Sticker Star thankfully didn't have

Also in Sticker Star you get to upgrade your stickers which is fun!!!!!! Color Splash feels like a Sticker Star sequel that keeps all the wrong things and changes exactly the things that acted as like, Sticker Star's problems cancelling each other out. And don't get me started on Color Splash's one billion loading screens and extremely tedious gameovers compared to what's always basically instant in Sticker Star

I think the three things that would best improve Sticker Star are

Allow Fling-a-Thing from anywhere in the world, possibly as an upgrade of sorts (Things shouldn't turn into stickers immediately when you grab them like in Color Splash though! Otherwise it turns a currently infinite stash into a finite one)

The enemy summons from Color Splash!! This was the one thing I think was a straight improvement to Sticker Star's systems. But put Sticker Star's spin on it where they work together with the sticker upgrading system, with shiny enemy stickers and such. And add action commands on them, like how Sticker Star had those on the shell/shuriken/boomerang/etc attacks

Change Scuttlebugs to be based on their original Super Mario 64 design. I don't mind the other changed enemy designs in this game as much, I only really hate the modern Scuttlebug design

[asahicore]

espresso macchiato - sjh

part 1 of the coffee mini-series // prompt 72 of the 100 kisses list, accidentally bumping noses

pairing. coworker!junghwan x fem!reader

synopsis. It’d only been a month since Junghwan had started to work with you at the coffee shop, but your crush on him was already threatening to make itself known. It took a broken espresso machine and a cute accident for you to find out that these feelings might not be one-sided.

genre. winter au, coffee shop au, fluff with a side of fluff and extra fluff, noona!reader (just one-year age gap tho)

word count. 2.2k

a/n. i said two seconds ago that i would post this tomorrow but i already changed my mind. i had so so much fun writing this so i hope you will too while reading! i tried to make it as cute as possible... just cute cute cute... super excited to write the rest of the series. no promises but i'll try to do like a double update next weekend with part 2 of this and part 2 of hey heeseung !! ok i know nobody reads these but as always lmk what u think pls and thank u bye bye &lt;3

winter.

You should’ve known that nothing good could come out of having such a cute coworker as So Junghwan.

The moment he’d stepped into the coffee shop, announcing himself with a big smile as the new barista, you had to keep yourself from freaking out. Somehow, all the ugly things that came with being a barista hadn’t tarnished your dream for a coffee shop romance. No amount of spilled coffee and rude customers could stop you from wishing a handsome guy would stride in and sweep you off your feet.

But now that said handsome guy had finally strode in, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Because it wasn’t enough for the handsome guy to just be handsome, he also had to be charming, and kind, and funny. And tall. Very, very tall. If at first his face alone had been enough to destabilize you, soon, it was his contagious boyish grin, the sound of his laughter, the way his hands worked the machines that made your heart beat faster than it should. You’d even started to like the fact that he called you noona - at first, you chided him for it, arguing that you were barely a year older than him, but he insisted, and you didn’t have a choice but to get used to it.

As with most bad things in your life, you blamed your manager. Got a cold? The manager insisted on turning the heating all the way up this winter, and your body has gone into shock every time you’ve had to go back into the cold outside. Missed a deadline? The manager asked you to take over someone else’s shift that one day you had planned on writing your essay after procrastinating for two weeks. Liked the new barista? The manager made you responsible for his training, because “you’ve been here for so long” (two years) and “you’re one of our best” (ten time employee of the month, thank you very much) and “you have the most overlapping shifts with him, anyway.” No problem, boss. No problem at all, you’d said, and you had meant it, until Junghwan walked right from your dreams and into the coffee shop on a bright morning in early December.

The first few weeks, it was easy to lie to yourself that it was just due to Junghwan being practically perfect that you felt like this - anyone with eyes and an attraction to men would react the same way. Or so you thought, until you talked to your coworker-turned-bestie, Jayoon.

“I don’t know, I think he’s kinda dorky.” Your friend had simply shrugged when you asked her about the newbie. You’d been trying to be as nonchalant as possible, but your interest in him was obvious. But then she’d seen your appalled expression, and tried to backtrack slightly. “I mean, super nice and all, just not my style. He’s all yours,” she’d added with a wink.

You realized you had a proper crush on him when a customer wrote her number on the receipt and left it for him, and the jealousy you felt upon seeing the slight blush that spread across his cheeks was too much to ignore. Something you had noticed about Junghwan after a month of working with him was that he could dish it but not take it. When it came to grabbing something you couldn’t reach from the top shelf for you, telling you your hair looked cute that day, or making a little heart on top of the latte you desperately needed when you worked the opening shift together, he was a pro - but if you so much as called him cute or patted his head, the boy became a stammering and blushing mess, akin to the clueless female lead of a high school romance anime.

Seeing someone else have that effect on him was no fun. You wanted to run after the girl and lecture her about disturbing coffee shop employees when they’re trying to do their job, but you knew you just wished you had as much guts as her to shoot your shot with Junghwan.

“Look, noona, a girl gave me her number,” he said, gloating and holding the small piece of paper for you to see, when a random two p.m. rush had subsided. “She even drew a heart.”

You scoffed, turning away and pretending to be busy rearranging the syrup shelf so he wouldn’t see the glare in your eyes. “You look so happy,” you commented moodily. Great job hiding your crush, Y/N, you thought.

“It is pretty flattering.”

You turned your head to look at him. He’d taken a few steps closer to you and was now resting his back against the counter, palms flat on the surface behind him to hold him up. His smile had gotten even wider, that idiot. You squinted your eyes at him. “So, are you gonna call her? Or text her?”

“No,” he’d answered right away, and the lack of hesitation took you by surprise. “There’s someone else I like.”

The words had already made your breath hitch in your throat - but as if he was intent on killing you, Junghwan started walking right towards you, only stopping when he was towering over your shorter frame. He crumbled the receipt in his hands and threw it in the trash can that you happened to be standing in front of, his eyes never once leaving yours. He beamed down at you, that familiar, puppyish grin that lights up his whole face, and, as if nothing happened, walked to the register to take the order of a customer that had just arrived.

It took at least a full minute for your breathing to return to normal.

-

Junghwan was a quick learner. He mastered the espresso machine and latte art in record time, remembered recipes to specialty drinks easily, and didn’t panic when someone ordered something he’d never made before. He also wasn’t scared to ask for help, and you’d soon grown used to his questions, tone ranging from simply curious to downright alarmed. Noona, do I add cocoa powder on top of a cappuccino? Noona, what’s the difference between a regular latte and a latte macchiato? Noona, why the hell does this person want their chai to be dirty?!

So when he called out, Noona, I think the machine’s broken, you hadn’t thought anything of it at first. Luckily, it was reaching closing time, and not many people came for a caffeine fix at seven in the evening, so you could easily deal with the machine. 

You headed to where Junghwan was crouching, glaring at the espresso machine as if that would magically fix it. You shook your head at him with a chuckle and told him to scooch over. Either in an attempt to tease you, or because he genuinely wanted to know how to repair it, Junghwan followed your every move, very, very closely. He stood and bent over the machine along with you, checked the water and coffee bean levels along with you, made sure the tubes were properly cleaned along with you. But in the end, it was just that the tube that poured the espresso had come somewhat loose, and so the machine beeped in warning every time one tried to make coffee.

“Look, it’s no big deal, just that the tube came loo- Oh!”

Junghwan had been looking at you as you explained the problem, but the two of you were crouching in front of the counter, so close together that when you turned your head to look at him, your noses had bumped into each other. You’d both leaned back in surprise at the same time, eyes widening and heat spreading to both of your faces as you peered at each other, astonished. But then, Junghwan’s face broke into a grin, and a chuckle escaped his lips, then another one. You burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, the fact that you had to keep quiet because of the few remaining customers in the shop making it even harder to stop giggling.

When after a few minutes, you managed to regain your senses, a wave of shyness hit you - even if for just a split second, you had been close enough to Junghwan for your noses to touch, even, perhaps, for your lips to touch. And thinking about kissing Junghwan was not good for your heart.

A silence settled between the two of you, and you were thankful for the music playing softly and the chatter of the customers that filled the otherwise quiet coffee shop. You could barely look at Junghwan anymore and found him quickly averting his gaze as well every time you dared a glance at him, as if the same realization had hit him.

Fifteen minutes later and you could finally close. You and Junghwan said “bye” to the last customers, then started cleaning the store and preparing it for tomorrow’s first shifters in unusual silence - normally, you’d spend an hour joking around, chasing the other with a mop or spraying water on the other’s face, but today, not a peep could be heard from either of you. You didn’t know what to make of it, but at least, it meant you were done half an hour earlier than usual.

Shivering, Junghwan watched as you hurriedly locked the doors to the coffee shop, wanting to put your gloves on as quickly as possible. It was so warm and toasty inside that stepping outside was like being pushed into a bath of ice water. You were about to start walking to the bus stop, as you always did with Junghwan after the closing shift, but he stopped you.

“Noona, your scarf.” He stepped in front of you and reached out to tighten your scarf, even though it was already snug around your neck. Immediately recalling the proximity you’d been in not even an hour earlier, all you could do was look up at him, mouth slightly agape in surprise. When his eyes met yours, a small grin bloomed on his lips. He kept his hands on your scarf, holding gently there.

“What’s wrong with it?” you asked in a quiet voice, looking down at your scarf so Junghwan couldn’t see your flustered reaction - but something prompted you to meet his eyes once more. 

His grin got wider and unconsciously, you started smiling too. “Nothing,” he admitted, then finally let go of your scarf, and you released a breath at the same time. You followed as he started walking towards the bus stop, hanging your head low so he couldn’t see the smile on your lips. Just like you, his hands were buried in his coat pockets, but you were itching to reach out and grab one of them. You couldn’t stop wondering what his reaction would be.

Then, he sighed contentedly. When you looked up at him, he was smiling too, looking straight ahead of him. The cold had already bit at his cheeks and nose, staining them bright red, and there were slowly melting snowflakes covering his hair. You thought he’d never looked so handsome. It was almost painful, tearing your gaze away from his face.

“It’s so cold, you can see your breath,” he suddenly said, and you laughed. Not because what he’d said was particularly funny or interesting, but because it was such a relief, hearing his voice after long minutes of silence.

“Yeah,” you simply replied, giggling when your gazes met for a brief moment.

When you reached the bus stop, you sat down on the bench while he stood, tracing figures in the snow with his foot. Your heart swelled ten times its size and you couldn’t stop smiling as he wrote your initial, a plus sign and his initial, then encircled them in a heart. You shook your head at him but it made you unreasonably happy.

“Too cheesy?” he asked, smiling so wide that the corners of his eyes crinkled.

“No, I love it,” you replied, giggling, but you meant it.

He sat down next to you, kicking your shoe with his, and you both giggled at nothing. Too soon, his bus came. 

“Noona?” he called out as he stood up, walking towards the bus door. You said nothing but raised your head, waiting for him to go on. “You know how I said there’s someone I like?”

This time, you said nothing because you couldn’t speak. Your heart stopped beating, anticipating his next words. You meekly nodded.

The bus doors opened and he slipped inside, turning back to look at you, that boyish grin you love so much still on his lips.

“It’s you.”

The doors closed and Junghwan headed to a window seat, waving happily at you as the bus took him away, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you.

When your shock faded, all that was left was happiness. Junghwan’s sudden confession filled you with a warm, honey-like feeling that settled comfortably in your heart, in your bones, everywhere. The cold January air couldn’t cool you down.

You didn’t stop smiling for a second the whole way home, and you’d never been so excited for your next shift.

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 (ask to be removed/added!) © asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

[angeart]

Maybe I’m just over emotional bc it’s late but OH MY GOD IM GENUINELY CRYING REAL TEARS. The simple thought that scar and grian’s relationships with their fellow hermits have been so damaged because something so horrible happened to them that was completely out of their control is DESTROYING me. The thing about the party gets me the most because they. God. They were so excited and happy bc their friends were coming home!! They had a house prepared for them!!! And now grian doesn’t even trust PEARL anymore. I know that eventually everything will be okay but I’m so scared of how long it will take for them to even get close to that. Your writing is incredible, the fact that it’s made me feel this distraught is a testament to its quality, but by GOD my therapist WILL be hearing about this.

oH GOSH. yeah!! it's all so ravaging, the shift in relationships and perception and feelings. they're meant to be safe now, they're meant to be happy, they're meant to be hugged and comforted by their friends, they're meant to sit down and chat... and none of that is happening.

it's not their fault.

it's not hermits' fault either.

but it is how things are. full of leftover fear, anxiety deep and clawed. evasiveness, protectiveness, defensiveness. a ravine between them where none was meant to be.

things are too much. and not enough. and all wrong. it's a mess. a chaos of a wasteland after a steady accumulation of a year-long worth of damage.

tHE WELCOME PARTY THING IS SO SAD. the hermits were genuinely eager and excited and relieved. they had signs, and decorations, and even quickly prepared foods and snacks. they made a house for them and were going to show them!! they gathered up and chatted with each other, saying they can't wait for scar and grian to be home.

only for it all to instantly go all wrong, in a horrible way none of them can quite understand. they're left so very confused. they were told to be careful, sure, but that was a vague instruction and there weren't any explanations, and they just... they assumed grian and scar are as excited to see them as the hermits were to see the two of them. they had no reason to think otherwise!!

but clearly, maybe they were wrong.

(they just can't figure out why.)

(why would grian look so afraid? why'd he run? why'd scar say no and run after him, turning his back on everyone else with practiced ease and a tinge of desperation?)

things will be okay, but it is a very gradual eventually. there's many times when they backtrack. when steps in the wrong direction are made. when things get triggered, or memories come back unbidden, old instincts awakening. fears and silence and distance.

they don't want to talk about it, which makes it that much harder for others to understand what they might need. mistakes are made, despite efforts and best intentions.

but, ultimately, grian and scar are safe now. and the others will do their best to prove that to them and wait patiently for the two of them to be ready to be truly home. <3