#do you understand how much i hate this. i’m gonna die

[eievuimultimuse]

     SUPERFLY CONTINUES TO quietly listen as Xever proceeds onwards with his explanation. ‘The world is a cesspool,’ indeed. Seems even for a former human as himself, Xever still understands just how much this world takes from people like them. How uncaring it could be. It took away someone very important to him, and even if he did still have people, it left him in a position of taking care of others and protecting them when he had needed that himself  ( not that he would ever admit to such a thing ). It does admittedly ease his mind to know that they have a mutual understanding of that much.

     Red hues reflect the bright lights as they drive past them, dimmed only by his brows continuing to knit together while Xever delves into the condition of his most recent form. He supposes he could understand the initial disdain he had for becoming a fish. Frankly, had Xever not specified that he prefers being this way now, Superfly would’ve assumed that he hated it the same way humans seemed to hate mutants. After all, he could understand how perhaps being a fish was as undesirable as being a fly  ( he’d admit, it crossed his mind to wonder how much their Stockman enjoyed being one. But he’s trying not to think about it, because the thought of his father being a fly like him feels…WRONG, confessedly ).

     Even without pupils, the slight movement of his head indicated that his gaze shifted to the air tank when the fish mutant confessed that he would DIE without it. A shiver involuntarily went down the fly’s spine at such a cruel thought. And his mind wanders to his own aquatic sibling, and he has to shake it lest he feel ill.  “ That sounds awful, “  he says bluntly. Maybe Xever’s gotten used to it and doesn’t care, but even for someone like Superfly who had to do a lot to survive, it just sounds…unfortunate. But the statement applies to everything else he’s said too, especially the notion of having no autonomy over one’s own life.

     “ My dad had fought t’ keep us from bein’ controlled and caged. It cost him his life. So I’m sure you can imagine just how much I despise the idea. “  It’d be no different than if the man had died for nothing, as far as he was concerned. The fly hesitates to share details about himself, but considering how much Xever decided to tell him just now, it only seemed right to return the favour.

“ Humans took his life. Turned on one of their own just ‘cause he was the only one who gave a damn about us. Then fourteen years later, some humans tried t’ kill me and my siblings. I nearly beat one of ‘em t’ death just to protect ‘em. “And myself, he decides not to add. He doesn’t like talking about what happened when he put himself between his family and that man, what happened when he caught up to him with his bat. It made Superfly feel small and he HATED that.  “ After that, I realized life was never gonna be safe so long as humans were around. I still think that. My folks…wound up disagreeing for reasons I couldn’t freakin’ begin t’ tell you. After everything I did to protect them, they just…TURNED ON me in favour of the same people that hurt us. All ‘cause those turtles got it in their heads that humans are all that.Ridiculous. “

"Oh trust me you and I agree with that. Unlike you I never had anyone. I was alone my whole life, my parents threw me away like trash when I was still a kid. I had to struggle to survive completly on my own, with no one there to save me. This world is a cesspool and I hate it for what it did to me. And I hated it even more when I someone who was able to survive on my own became an invalid who was beholden to people who didn't care if I lived or died."

They turned a corner, more bright lights shooting past the pair. Xever felt he had to tell this story since he wanted to be honest for once. This guy had been dealt a hard hand too, so did Xever long to connect to him on some level? Did him being alone all the time cause it?

"I did hate what I became for a while. I mean, I was a landwalker who suddenly became a fish out of nowhere because of someone else's dumb choice. I was trapped in a tank for ages as they worked on the tech I have now. But, once that tech was made I was basically a puppet on strings which they could cut at any time they wanted. My life wasn't my own anymore and I had to just accept that."

Xever had a feeling Fly had some beef with humanity I mean most would they were a disgusting species who brought a lot of harm to the world around them. Xever never thought much of it though, he was never a big picture guy because survival was what he tended to focus on. And taking from others was how he had survived.

"I am so glad to be free, and I grew to accept what I am. Being a fish wasn't the problem it never was. It was the humans who sought to use that form against me to use it as a means to control me. I can't breathe air, in fact you could kill me right now if you destroyed my tank. I can't live without it or my legs. I am always one step away from death. So why not live upon that edge? That became my life."

[beach-bear-enjoyer]

i hope whoever decided that it was normal for couples to be corny DIES. being in a relationship sounds cool but every single time they’re like “awww my honey bunny snookums 🥺��🥺🥺 just a widdol baby puppy dollface 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺my precious eepy scrunkly angel 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺big kiss!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺 poor baby want a big kiss??? 🥺🥺🥺🥺” IM GONNA SHOOT MYSELF

[leahwllmsn]

broke your heart, I’ll put it back together

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 9.7k

In which Alexia is an excellent footballer yet a terrible, terrible girlfriend. You still love her nonetheless.

Alexia never had much experience with the love that she saw in movies: all the hugs and the “I love you”s and the heart-to-heart conversations. Alexia thought they were too cliché anyway. Especially the “I love you”s. Some people give proclamations of love too easily and not mean a single thing. 

Her sister loved to laugh every time people misjudged Alexia to be someone emotionless and cold, when in reality she was just “an awkward introvert who’s terrible at anything related to love and romance and all that jazz,” (Alba’s words). 

Although Alexia would say that that was false. Just because she turned awkward whenever someone showed a bit of affection didn’t mean that Alexia sucked at romance. Alexia had watched enough Nicholas Sparks movies to understand what she had to do when the time came. Flowers. Chocolates. Kissing in the rain. Simple.

(“Simple. Yup, definitely. That’s obviously why you’re still single at the age of thirty.”

“Excuse me! Puta.”

“Should I set you up with someone? Yeah. I’m gonna set you up with someone.”

“Alba, fuck off.”)

So maybe Alexia was thirty and still single. So what? Alexia just never thought of relationships to be that big of a deal. And it definitely wasn’t because of how she was as a person “distant and reserved”—or so how Alba described her to be. Her job was already taking too much of her time as it is.

Alexia was the best footballer in the world, and aside from trainings and matches to play, it also required back-to-back meetings and her full attention and wow, Alexia really was going to die alone as a cat lady which was so much worse because she was allergic to cats.

“Your turn, Ale.”

Alexia turned her gaze towards Mapi. It was media day at the Estadi Johan Cruyff. Alexia always had loathed doing interviews but it was part of the job. “How was it?”

“Fine as usual,” Mapi shrugged, flopping on the empty bench next to Alexia. “Have a feeling you will enjoy this one though.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows, moving to stand up. “Why?”

Mapi had a cheeky look on her face. “The interviewer is definitely your type.”

Alexia threw her jacket at Mapi’s face, causing the latter to laugh. “I will gladly say I told you so later! Just you wait!”

Alexia entered one of the rooms that was designated for her interview. It was going to be a fun and lighthearted video. Alexia couldn’t really remember the name of the media that she was assigned to, she had a lot on her mind lately. 

Especially since her family was throwing a get-together over the weekend and now both her mother and Alba were pestering her over bringing someone. Alba putting ideas into Eli’s head that Alexia should be seeing someone at this age and Eli quickly agreeing that she was spending too much time on football—

“Miss Putellas? Hi, nice to meet you.”

Alexia’s mouth went agape.

“I’m y/n and this is my team, Robert and Camila. Thank you for having us.”

On second thought, maybe Alba was right. Maybe Alexia really was destined to be the typical career woman who focused too much on work and never had time for love, especially since she was cold and distant and was really, really downright terrible at romance, because there was no way that her heart was doing somersaults when she should be working. This was awful timing. She was so unprofessional.

Her heart was definitely not skipping a beat because of an interviewer who looked to be in her twenties—oh god, Alexia was definitely not crushing on someone who looked like she was still in university.

But the moment you smiled, Alexia knew she was screwed

—

“Fuck you, Alba.”

“Well, Alexia Putellas, just so you know I do have hundreds of girls lining up wanting to fuck me.”

Alexia groaned into her phone. “First of all, ew! Not funny. I hate you.”

Alba laughed. “What did I do this time?”

“You planted these stupid, stupid thoughts into my head! I was thinking about being single so much that you made me have a crush on someone who’s supposed to interview me—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. How is this my fault?”

“I don’t know!” Alexia exclaimed. “I went into the room and she was there with her stupid cute vest and little notebook in hand and her hair was brown and wavy but not too wavy, it was just perfect the way it falls perfectly down her shoulders and her stupid smile. She was smiling at me, Alba. At me. Smiling.”

“Oookay,” Alba dragged out. “When I said you should find someone I didn’t mean a sugar baby.”

“Alba!”

“What? An interviewer? Journalist? I doubt she’s making a lot per year—”

Alexia groaned even more. “Please don’t go around saying shit like this to anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Whatever, you’re no help,” Alexia stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, making sure that she looked fine. Not that she wanted to impress you—she just wanted to look fine to someone who was going to interview her. Yeah, that was it. “I'll talk to you later.”

“Going back to your new lover?”

“Shut up,” Alexia unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom. “I ran to the bathroom because I freaked out.”

Alba’s laugh was so loud that people in the hallways glanced at Alexia as she passed by. “Real smooth. You're totally good at romance. An expert. The real life Romeo—”

Alexia hung up and plopped her phone in the pocket of her tracksuit. She could get through this. She had played in front of thousands, she went through people criticizing her every move as if they were better than her. She wasn’t nervous then, why should she be nervous now?

“Sorry, where were we?” Alexia said as soon as she reentered the room. She took her seat, you on the other side of the camera, still with that damn smile on your face.

“I was just about to tell you that I have always wanted to interview you,” you replied.

“Me?” Alexia squeaked, immediately clearing her throat nervously. 

—No, not nervously. Alexia didn’t get nervous. Fuck.

“Yes. You’re a very interesting person,” you fidgeted with the notepad and pen in your hands, your shoes tapping on the floor slightly. Alexia realized that you were nervous, and somehow the thought placed a smile on her face.

“How long have you been working for …Dazn? You could pass as someone who hasn’t graduated university—not that I’m saying you’re not qualified to do your job or anything, you just look really young- not that it’s a bad thing! Lo siento. I’ll just stop talking.”

Real smooth, Alexia. Real smooth.

“Well,” you chuckled. “To answer your question, one: just for a little while and two: you’re kind of right.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled bashfully. “I’m twenty-five years old, still in university, but for my masters.”

“I see,” Realization dawned on Alexia’s face and she had to look to the side to hide away her smile. A five year age gap. Not bad at all. 

…Not that it was important, though. Definitely not important. “What are you majoring in?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Isn’t this supposed to be me interviewing you?”

Alexia laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Should we jump into it then?”

“Fire away.”

—

As soon as you left, Alexia couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. She didn’t know whether it was because of how stupidly charming you were or because of your addictive smile—okay, no. It was probably not because of you at all. You, who she barely knew. You, with the stars in your eyes, staring at Alexia as if you adored her to bits and wanted to know every single detail about her, including Alexia’s favourite food.

“She asked the question out of nowhere, Albs. We were talking about the upcoming season the second before.” Alexia recalled.

“That does seem pretty random.” Alba replied in between bites of her food.

“Right?! It was like she was done with all her questions, but she wanted to get to know me further—”

Alexia’s sentence was cut off by Alba’s laughter. “Don’t get too cocky now, Ale. Just because you have a crush on her doesn’t mean she’s into you too.”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a crush on her. I can admit she’s attractive. And funny. And smart. Does not mean I have a crush on her.”

“Seems like you do,” Alba said, a smirk forming on her lips. “Which is great! Haven’t I been telling you to find someone? This is super great.”

“I’m not gonna date someone years younger than me, Alba,” Alexia cut into her steak and took a bite. Yup. She wasn’t going to date someone who was five years younger than her.

“She’s twenty-five, that’s nothing.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes at the brunette in front of her. “…How do you know her age? I never told you her age.”

“Google exists,” Alba said simply. “And remember the girl I’m sort-of-seeing-but-not-really?”

“Marta,” Alexia nodded.

“Maria,” Alba corrected. “She’s your girl’s best friend.”

Alexia paused her fork mid-air. “What?”

Alba hummed. “They're on the way here as we speak.”

“What?!” Alexia repeated, a clang echoing throughout her dining room as her fork fell to her plate.

“I invited them over for drinks.”

Alexia palmed her face and groaned. “I think I missed the part where you invited them over to my place without my acknowledgement.”

“Oh whatever, hermana,” Alba waved her off. “Stop acting as if I don’t live here.”

“You don’t,” Alexia reminded.

“Your place is my place and all that,” Alba teased.

“Alba,” Alexia felt like strangling Alba. Or anything to wipe that grin off her face—

The doorbell interrupted them.

Alba squeaked and jumped out of her chair. “That’s them!”

Alexia opened her mouth to say something but Alba was already out of the room before she could utter a word. Damn it.

Alexia forced herself to stay cool, following after Alba and sighing when she neared the front door and saw a girl she’d seen in Alba’s pictures and you.

“Hello,” Alexia greeted. 

“Amor, this is my grumpy and very single sister, Alexia,” Alba pointed at Alexia and Alexia slapped Alba’s hand away.

“I’m Alexia,” Alexia put her hand out, her smile widening when she caught your eyes. Okay, so maybe she didn’t hate Alba that much.

“I know, wow, it’s an honor,” your best friend shook Alexia’s hands. “You’re a legend.”

Alexia laughs, her cheeks turning red. “Thank you.” She turned to you and gave a little wave. “I don’t think introductions are necessary, is it?”

“Hi, Miss Putellas,” you said. Alexia hated how addicted she was to your voice despite having just met you today.

“Oh no. Alexia is fine, please.”

“Okay then,” you grinned and Alexia swore she could die on the spot. “Alexia it is.”

—

“So, Alexia,” you started. You were seated on one couch, Alba and Maria occupying the smaller seater to your left. No one seemed to be paying attention to the movie anymore. Alexia couldn’t even remember what the damn plot of the movie was. You, as it turned out, smelled really good and it was very addicting—and Alexia was insane. Insane for developing a tiny crush on you when you two had just met today. 

You looked like you didn’t know what to say, settling with, “Nice place.”

Alexia gave a soft laugh. “Thank you? There’s more that I haven’t shown you actually.”

“Yeah?” you sounded like you wanted to have Alexia show you around.

Alexia darted her eyes towards her sister and her ‘not-so-date’ to see that they had both fallen asleep. Alexia contemplated whether being alone with you would be something she should be doing or not, and after a moment she decided that there wasn’t any reason for her to not want to be alone with you. 

So Alexia stood up and offered a hand out for you to take. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

—

Five minutes into being alone with you and walking around Alexia’s house—or mansion, as you called it—Alexia discovered five things about you.

You had two dogs, Salt and Pepper, and Alexia could tell how much you loved them with the way you excitedly told the story about how you got them.

You were an only child and your parents spoiled you to bits and they supported you in everything you did, all the way from the United States.

You were American.

You were taking your masters in sports science and Alexia made a mental note to talk to the physios at Barça on whether they have a vacant spot for you. Not because Alexia wanted to see you everyday, but because she was sure you were a certified genius.

You were hilarious and made Alexia laugh a lot. Alexia wanted more of you.

You were in the middle of retelling how your day went and Alexia somehow really wanted to kiss you, which was dumb and stupid, considering how she barely knew you. 

You got excited over the littlest things, you talked animatedly about how you saw a dog on your way to Alexia’s place that looked a lot like your own and you gushed about how the dog barked excitedly at you. Alexia found it adorable, despite being confused on how a dog can bark ‘excitedly’.

“I’m sorry I talk a lot,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ears. 

“Don’t be,” Alexia bumped your shoulders lightly as you two continued your walk around her house. “It’s cute.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Alexia could see the red on the tips of your ears. Adorable. “Can we go outside?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Sure,” Alexia led you towards the nearest door that leads to her backyard. “The pool is on the other side, this is my flower garden.”

“You have a flower garden,” you stated. 

Alexia hummed in reply. “I love looking at flowers. They are pretty.”

Once you stepped outside, Alexia felt her teeth chatter, cursing herself for not wearing anything more appropriate for the cold night air. When she was about to ask you if you wanted to head back inside, a jacket was draped around her shoulders and Alexia was surrounded with the scent of your vanilla perfume.

“y/n, you don’t have to—”

“Take it,” you insisted. “You’re freezing.”

“You’re gonna freeze.” 

Alexia shook off the black jacket and was about to place it around your shoulders but you walked ahead. “I won’t,” you walked backwards, smiling reassuringly. “I’m still wearing long-sleeves, see? I can handle it. Don’t worry.”

Alexia hesitated for a second before putting on the jacket. Alexia hugged herself tighter, it was still cold but also because the jacket smelled really nice. “Thank you.��

“No problem,” you replied. You stopped walking and Alexia would know this if she wasn’t so busy looking elsewhere but you. 

The moment Alexia bumped into you, your hands immediately went to steady her, resting on Alexia’s forearms. Alexia could feel herself flush, her cheeks getting warm, profusely apologizing because she was usually never this clumsy.

You giggled, your hands were still sending fire to Alexia’s skin, your faces inches apart. “That’s okay.”

“I should’ve watched where I was going,” Alexia’s face was apologetic. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really,” you were smiling at her. “A lot on your mind today?”

Alexia studied your face and nodded. Definitely a lot. She noticed that you had a mole under your left eyebrow. 

“Mind sharing?” you asked.

Alexia immediately stood up straighter and cleared her throat. You dropped your hands, but made no move to step away. “Just- work. Media day has never been my favourite.”

Yup. Work. Definitely not because Alexia couldn’t get your pretty eyes off her mind.

You narrowed your eyes at her and Alexia held her breath. You were really close. It was getting harder to breathe. All Alexia could think about was that vanilla was about to become her favourite scent.

“You’re very interesting.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows at that. “I am?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I saw you at training yesterday, you know. We had a briefing to prepare for today. You were… I wouldn’t say scary, but I was pretty sure your teammates were about to pee their pants.”

Alexia broke into a laugh. “What?”

“You had that furrow between your brows,” you elaborated, raising your hand and hesitantly running a finger across Alexia’s forehead. “And I could hear your stern captain voice,” you chuckled, dropping your hand. “But despite that you were still as charismatic and graceful as ever. I could see why people would be so intimidated by you.”

“And that’s interesting to you?” Alexia said, her voice barely a whisper. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest.

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice matching Alexia’s whisper. “Because while I was interviewing you earlier today and this whole night, you’ve been acting the opposite and I couldn’t figure it out.”

“The opposite?”

“You’re… awkward,” you laughed. “You take charge on the field, your chin held high, you look people straight in the eye when conversing with them. But you’re so awkward—you bump into me, you stutter, you can’t look me in the eye for more than five seconds.”

Damn it. You were smart. Well, Alexia knew you were smart, but this was… this was you being able to read Alexia’s thoughts and damn. it.

Alexia couldn’t even defend herself because it was true. All the things you observed were true and what could Alexia exactly say to that? That Alexia acted that way because she was nervous? That being around you made her nervous? Which was baffling because Alexia had done speeches in front of thousands of people without tripping over her words once, yet one night with you and Alexia‘s vocabulary went out the window.

“Uh I’m sorry if that was overstepping,” you said, finally stepping backwards. “I was just stating what I saw.”

You looked really beautiful under the moonlight. Your eyes casted downwards, your hands fidgety, as if you were doubting yourself about why you said all that. You looked nervous, perhaps about what Alexia would say next. 

But despite everything, you looked really beautiful under the moonlight and Alexia figured that there was no harm in telling you that.

“You’re right,” Alexia laughed. “You’re absolutely right.” A pause. “You’re beautiful.”

You whipped your head up and looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “What?”

“I think you look really beautiful right now,” Alexia exhaled and stepped forward. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “That is why I’m so awkward around you. I just don’t know how to act. I get nervous around pretty girls.”

You laughed and Alexia took it as an opportunity to pull you in for a kiss, swallowing all your laughter.

Alexia became addicted to the scent of vanilla.

—

Turns out Alexia did suck at romance. She missed dates, forgot to call you back and was a bad texter. The first week Alexia didn’t think her thing with you was going to last. She really was terrible.

But weeks turned into months and despite the missed dinners, you stayed patient. You were there in her kitchen with takeout at 10 p.m., waiting for Alexia’s meeting to end. You were there at 7 in the morning before Alexia left for training, a bag of pastries in hand. Alexia would happily munch on her guilty pleasures on the way to training, quickly getting rid of any traces of crime from her nutritionists.

You didn’t get tired of her even though Alexia stupidly didn’t move an inch the first time you initiated a kiss. You only laughed when you first stayed the night at Alexia’s place and Alexia offered her bed while she slept in one of her spare bedrooms. You didn’t mind that you sent paragraphs of text only for Alexia to reply with one or two words—you didn’t get mad, instead you would call Alexia to get her reply because you knew Alexia preferred talking instead of texting.

And Alexia was never the one to show affection. Pats on the back between teammates were appropriate. Hugs were awkward. She kissed each of her exes once or twice. 

You were different and you were persistent. You liked hugs. You hugged Alexia any chance you could get. You preferred to cuddle during movie nights and you liked to hug Alexia from behind when she was cooking dinner. The fact that Alexia tensed whenever you hugged her just made you hug her even tighter.

Strangely, Alexia didn’t find it uncomfortable. If she did, she would've said something. But Alexia actually liked your hugs. 

(“Are all hugs like this?”

“What do you mean ‘are all hugs like this’?

“I don’t know, Alba. Like- you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” 

“God, you’re nauseating.”

“I’m asking a genuine question!”

“You are in love that's what it is.”)

Five months into your relationship, Alexia started to be the one initiating the hugs. She was more affectionate; intertwining your hand with hers when you walk side-by-side and kissing you goodbye in front of your friends, not caring about the whistles thrown at you.

Alexia still missed dates and phone calls, but strangely enough you still didn’t seem to mind. Alexia was left dumbfounded because how were you perfectly fine with all of this? There was a reason why Alexia’s past relationships never lasted.

“I know you’re busy, baby. And I know you’re trying your best too.” you once said. Alexia almost shed a tear because how were you so. damn. perfect?

After eight months of being together, Alexia was juggling her relationship and football much better. She canceled an important meeting for the first time ever because she promised that she would pick you and your parents up from the airport.

Alba called her crazy, and her past self definitely would agree with Alba. Alexia didn’t care though. The smile on your face when Alexia showed up with flowers in hand was priceless.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Hm?” Alexia looked to the side and found you staring at her. “Nothing.”

You laughed, setting your book aside and rested your head on Alexia’s chest. Alexia wrapped her arms around your smaller frame and kissed the top of your head.

“If you say so,” you lazily drew circles on Alexia’s stomach. “What should we get for dinner?”

“What do you want?”

“You always ask me what I want,” you giggled. “Can you choose for tonight?”

Alexia hummed in thought and after a moment she added, “Pizza it is.”

You immediately sat upright, a huge grin on your face. “You really are a mind reader, you know?”

Alexia shrugged, a smile at the corner of her lips. “I told you.”

You shook your head fondly, laughing as you laid back down to your previous position.

“I love you, Ale.”

I love you. Right. Alexia should probably say it back at some point.

But should she even say it back? Wasn’t that too soon? Alexia didn’t know when the appropriate time of reciprocating your girlfriend’s confession of love would be.

When she asked Alba about it, Alba questioned her back asking if the reason she hadn’t said it back was because she didn’t feel the same way you did—which was stupid. Alexia made sure to throw her popcorn across the couch, all the way to Alba’s face, because what kind of stupid question was that?

The first time you said those three words to Alexia, Alexia accidentally sliced her finger instead of the tomato on her chopping board. It was three months after you became official and Alexia wasn’t expecting it. Not that soon, at least. But you did and Alexia was so caught off guard that you two had to halt your cooking session and order sushi for dinner instead. Alexia didn’t bring up the topic again all night and you didn’t either.

Just because Alexia didn’t say it back didn’t mean she didn’t love you. 

Or… maybe Alba was right. Did she love you? 

You, who were the most understanding and loving person Alexia had ever met. You, who made her laugh in the mornings and made her laugh before she went to sleep. You, who were never mad at Alexia when she forgot to call despite promising that she would.

“Being in love with someone and just enjoying their company are completely different things, you know that right?”

“What?” Alexia looked at her sister in disbelief. “Of course I do.”

“Cool. So which one is it with you?”

“Which one?”

Alba rolled her eyes. “Are you in love with her or do you just like having her around?”

In Alexia’s defense, she didn’t have much experience of being in love. How was she supposed to know whatever that feeling was like? The only relationship she had was with Jenni and that didn't work out because they were both too busy to have a relationship. Was she ever in love with Jenni? Maybe not. A crush, sure. Jenni was an attractive woman.

Was it the same with you? Alexia liked you a lot, that was for sure. Was it so much to the point that it was love?

Alexia figured if this was Jenni, she wouldn’t have to think about this so much. Jenni didn’t care about love and all the cliché things. Alexia didn’t either. 

And Alexia wouldn’t have cared so much if it weren’t for the fact that you told Alexia you loved her every chance you got. (Alexia felt like the world’s biggest asshole every time you got silence instead of her saying it back).

When it rained and Alexia always held the umbrella for the two of you, making sure not a single droplet of rain fell on top of your head but ended up soaking wet herself, you would laugh and “I love you, Alexia Putellas.” 

When you had to move out of your apartment and Alexia told you that you could stay with her until you found a place because she did have some spare rooms (even though you ended up sleeping in Alexia’s bed every night), “Really? Alexia Putellas, my saviour, thank you, I love you,” as you peppered her face with kisses.

When Alexia found out that Maria, your best friend, was also your first love, you reassured her that all your feelings for Maria were now strictly platonic. “She was my first love, but that was years ago. I love you. You’re my present and my future, Alexia Putellas.”

When you came home with Alexia for Christmas and some of her family members kept on sending wary glances towards you, you held Alexia’s hand on top of the dinner table and proclaimed your love for her for everyone to hear, your chin up and your tone proud. “I love Alexia. I’ll take care of her the best way I can.”

When Alexia would pick you up from classes, leaning against her grey Cupra, you would sprint towards her, a big smile on your face and a “You didn’t have to pick me up, I know you’re a busy woman. Love you.”

Every single time Alexia would return a smile or a kiss, never saying it back when she knew you were expecting it every single time. Alexia realized romance wasn’t as easy as she thought and this whole thing with you was bound to blow up if she didn’t get her shit together.

—

Turns out, it did blow up sooner than Alexia expected. She wished this point never came—she knew it would, she had been dreading it ever since—but Alexia cursed the stars for actually making it happen. She just wanted to at least hold you for another night.

You two were getting ready for bed, Alexia changing into her pyjamas while you were already tucked in bed and you two were fine. 

Alexia was talking about her day, how her mom scolded her because she was five minutes late to breakfast (which was insane because it was only five minutes), about the meeting she had for a possible new brand deal, and how she missed you the entire day. And maybe Alexia should’ve noticed how quiet you were or how your body tensed the moment Alexia slid her arms under the cover and wrapped them around your waist.

When Alexia thought you had fallen asleep, you spoke, just barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

It was silent—so silent that Alexia could hear a hair pin drop. She didn’t know why this night felt different. Alexia didn’t know why there was an edge to your voice and why there was something else she couldn’t quite place.

You turned around to face your girlfriend. Alexia could make out the faint outlines of your face in the dark—she had memorized every single inch of you.

“I love you, Alexia,” you stated once more. This time Alexia could clearly hear the challenge in your tone.

Alexia stared back at you, a sinking feeling started to settle in the pit of her stomach.

Seconds passed by, Alexia saw the mixture of emotions all over your face. You were hurt, Alexia could tell. You looked angry too, this Alexia wasn’t expecting. 

“Do you love me?”

Alexia was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. “What?”

“Do. you. love. me?” your tone turned impatient.

Alexia was wide-eyed. This wasn’t where she was expecting this night to go. “y/n—”

You got up from the bed and Alexia followed suit. You two were standing in front of each other on the foot of the bed, you with your arms across your chest and a scowl on your face. 

“Hey, what’s going on?

“‘What’s going on’?” you scoffed. “Do you love me or not? I asked you a simple question, Alexia.”

“I—” Alexia‘s voice got stuck in her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t like that she was being put on the spot like this either.

You stayed silent, an expectant look on your face. When Alexia didn’t say anything else, you let out a big sigh.

“y/n…” Alexia croaked out. She was afraid where this conversation would go.

You groaned, taking a fistful of your hair before exploding at Alexia. “It’s a simple fucking question, Alexia!”

Alexia was taken aback by your outburst. “I—”

You stepped forward, a fiery look in your eyes. “I. Love. You.” you punctured each word with a jab to Alexia’s chest. 

Alexia stared into your eyes, seeing the mixture of rage, sadness and disappointment swimming around in them. Alexia knew she should say something—she should say the one thing she knew you wanted to hear. But why was it so hard for her to utter those words? Was it because she didn’t feel it? Or was it because she was scared? Alexia didn’t know, she needed to think, but you weren't letting her.

“You don’t love me, do you?” your tone was full of defeat. Alexia knew that it was now or never. She was going to lose you—really lose you—if she didn’t say something. “All this time you never said it. I tried to make sense of it, I tried to make sense of you. You got me flowers every week—sometimes even twice a week. You listen when I ramble about useless things, you accompany me to my lame university events, let people talk to you about politics and you never talk back to them even though I know you have opposite views on things. You just want my friends to like you. You remember all the dumb little things, remember when we first met and what I was wearing at that time. You tell me I look good even though I stayed up all night doing my assignments, you tell me I’m beautiful at five in the morning, at midnight, in the middle of the day. You look at me like you’re in love with me. Like you love me.” 

You paused and took a deep breath. You gave a bitter laugh before looking straight into Alexia’s eyes. “You do all these things but you never told me that you love me. Not even once, Ale. And once upon a time, I believed you loved me. But I just—I don’t know anymore.”

Alexia stayed silent. 

“You’re not even gonna say anything?”

Alexia stayed silent because she didn’t know how to say anything without hurting you even more.

“So it’s true, then?” your tone was full of defeat, your eyes shining with unshed tears. Alexia hated herself for being the cause of it.

“y/n,” Alexia whispered, her hands reaching out to touch you but you moved away. “I—”

“No,” you ran a hand through your hair and gave a humourless laugh. “Just, save it, Alexia. I think I heard you loud and clear.”

When you slammed the door shut, Alexia felt the sobs at the back of her throat but she swallowed them. To cry meant she regretted everything that led you to walk out. 

Alexia did this to herself. She was the reason you left, Alexia didn’t deserve to cry. So Alexia stared out her window all night, wondering whether the reason her heart hurt so much was because the feeling she had for you was love all along and she was just too dumb to realize.

—

When Alexia didn’t get a single ‘I love you, beautiful’ in the middle of a meeting and when no one was there to kiss her goodnight and whispers of ‘I love you’, Alexia wondered how dumb she was to let everything slip from her fingers.

—

Maria came by her house a few days after you left, saying that you had asked her to pack your stuff up. Alexia couldn’t do anything else but let her in and watched as your things that were scattered around her house were shoved into boxes.

Alexia didn't say anything, she couldn’t ask Maria where you were staying now or if you were okay. Alexia figured she didn't deserve an answer. 

“Is this y/n’s?” Maria was holding a stuffed teddy bear, one of its eyes missing and an embroidery of your initials seen on its left chest.

“No,” Alexia lied, taking the teddy and sending your best friend a small smile hoping that she was convincing enough. “It's mine. I know I’m too old to own one of these… it has… sentimental values.”

Maria nodded and Alexia had a feeling that Maria knew she was lying, that she knew exactly that it was your favourite teddy bear and that Alexia lied because she wanted to keep a part of you to herself. 

“Okay then, I’ll get going,” Maria lifted the last of the boxes and gave Alexia an awkward smile. 

Alexia nodded and gestured towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

Once the back of Maria’s car was filled with your things, it dawned on Alexia that you were really gone.

You weren't talking to her anymore and there weren't any of your things left in Alexia’s house. There was no more reason for you to come back and Alexia had to force a smile on her face, not wanting to cry, especially not in front of Maria.

“Actually, uhm,” Maria cleared her throat. “y/n has something for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Maria gave an awkward laugh before reaching into her car and pulling out an envelope. “She told me to give you this.”

Alexia took the envelope with shaky hands, once again forcing a smile onto her face. “Thanks.”

Maria was looking at her with so much pity in her eyes and a part of Alexia was angry at her, because just like Maria, she pitied herself too. How could she ruin such a good relationship? She felt pathetic and she understood why Maria was looking at her that way.

“Alexia, look,” Maria stepped forward and placed a hand on the captain’s arm. “I honestly think you two will get through this.”

Alexia gave a bitter laugh at that. Was Maria mocking her now? “She packed all of her things. Well, you did, but it doesn’t matter. What part of all of this still makes you think that she’ll come back? Because I don’t think she will. I screwed up. She is not coming back. It’s fine, I’ll live.” Alexia hated how despite trying to act unaffected, anyone could hear the shakiness in her voice.

Maria squeezed her arm lightly. “She loves you. And right now she doesn’t think that you love her back, which I know isn’t the case.”

“How? You don’t know what I’m feeling,” Alexia felt her defensiveness kick in. “What if she’s right and I don’t love her, not even a little bit?”

Maria shook her head and gave a soft smile. “You seem to forget that I’ve been in your place before. I know what it looks like to love y/n—to be in love with her. You can’t lie to me.”

Alexia crossed her arms. She didn’t know why she was getting annoyed at where the conversation was going. “Then why don’t you go be with her?”

Maria laughed at that. “Because she loves you, not me, silly. Plus, I’m in love with your sister.”

Alexia didn’t say anything in reply and Maria took that as a cue to leave. Before getting in her car, she looked at Alexia one last time. “Contrary to what you think, you haven’t really lost her—not for good anyway.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” Alexia replied, her voice lacking any enthusiasm.

“I know that if you show up in front of her right now and tell her how you really feel, she’ll take you back in a heartbeat. She loves you.”

“Then why did she ask you to pack her things?” Alexia challenged back. “If she still loves me like you claimed, wouldn’t she be fine with seeing my face and not having to avoid me? And she wouldn’t just- just leave.”

“Ale, you two broke up over something so stupid. I can’t for the love of me figure out why- how something so simple can—” Maria palmed her forehead, letting out a sigh. “Just tell her you love her. What’s so hard about that?”

“Because I don’t know if I do!” Alexia shouted frustratedly. “Okay?”

Maria softened at that and gave Alexia a reassuring smile. “I have a feeling that you already know the answer,” she shrugged. “Think it through. Don’t take too long.” 

And with that Maria left, leaving Alexia standing with your envelope in her hands. She took a deep breath and opened it. Alexia expected a long letter—maybe of you ranting about how much you hated her for breaking your heart, or pages filled with curses and how you never wanted to see her again. But all she got was a small piece of paper with one sentence and a bracelet that Alexia gave you on your one month anniversary.

it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way I do, don't beat yourself up

-y/n

—

When days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and Alexia still hadn’t heard from you, Alexia realized she finally lost you for good. Alexia realized that maybe she should’ve taken Maria’s advice, but she had put it off so much that now it had been months and who was to say that you hadn’t already found someone new? Someone who actually loved you.

The thought caused Alexia to finally bawl her eyes out, exactly three months after you left. Alexia let herself feel all the pain and hurt, savoring every little twinge in her heart because she deserved it all. She hurt you, she didn’t deserve anything good anymore.

Alba pulled her out of bed, telling her to get her shit together and usually Alexia was never the one to dwell on things—once you fall, you get back up. 

But this time it was different. Alexia felt that this was it. How could she recover from all this hurt when all she wanted was your smile back? Alexia thought that if she was given a choice, she would rather lose the Ballon d’Or than to lose you—that was how important you were to her. Alexia knew she was dumb to not realize it sooner.

Despite Alexia’s complete despair about the whole thing, Alba was adamant that Alexia could do something about it. Alba was the one who told her to woman up and chase after her girl and “Seriously, hermana? I know I said you’re terrible at romance but don’t let that define you?! Do something!”

One night, Alexia discovered a pub not far from her place. No one was there except for her and one bartender. It was nice, Alexia could drink as much as she wanted without any judgment from anyone, and most importantly, she could think.

Alexia had a list and it went something like this:

Do I love y/n? 

Can I get y/n back

Do I even deserve y/n back

Am I in love with y/n

Does y/n still love me

How can y/n be so perfect

Do. I. Love. Her

Alexia was brooding and drowning in her sorrows, everything seemed so wrong. It all seemed so difficult and it took hours of being alone, surrounded by alcohol, for Alexia to finally realize that it was actually simple.

Well, the drink definitely helped, but a song was playing on the speakers and Alexia would think that it was odd for a Taylor Swift song to be playing there if it weren’t for the fact that she was the only customer that night and the bartender probably just didn’t care about his song choices.

“Let me get this straight,” Alba said slowly, sipping on her coffee. It was the morning after and a Saturday, Alba was always at Alexia’s at 7 a.m.  “You had an epiphany… because of a song you heard?”

“Yes,” Alexia nodded. “It’s actually very simple.”

“Very simple…?”

“This whole thing. I’m in love with y/n.” Alba choked on her coffee and Alexia patted her back. “A shocker,” Alexia grimaced at Alba’s coughs. “I know.”

“What kind of song led you to this conclusion?” 

“Taylor Swift.”

“No fucking way.”

“What?” Alexia shrugged. “Kissing on sidewalks, light-hearted jokes, coffees at midnight… they’re all simple things but it’s who you’re with that makes it all so special. And I had all the things that the song mentioned with y/n, and they meant a lot to me—even though these things seem trivial, I cherish them a lot because I felt happy and- and in love. I get it now.”

Alba was stunned, Alexia could see with the way her eyes were widened and mouth agape.

“So this is definitely months overdue. Maybe I should’ve looked for y/n right after Maria took her things away, but it is what it is. I want to make things right. Help me, please.”

“Finally,” Alba sighed, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “I know where she lives now. Will you promise me not to break her heart anymore, because she's my girlfriend’s best friend and I really can’t have you breaking her heart again.”

Alexia grinned as Alba told her your address.

—

To get you back, Alexia had a plan (courtesy of Miss Taylor Swift):

Stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain

Say “It’s been a long three months and I was too afraid to tell you what I want”

Say “I want you for worse or for better. I would wait forever and ever. Broke your heart, I'll put it back together”

Remind her how it used to be

—

“Hi.”

Your eyes immediately widened once you saw Alexia. 

You stared at the girl in front of you for a good minute. Alexia had to hug herself tighter, her teeth chattering from the cold. “Are you going to let me in? Besides it being so cold, I don’t want your neighbour to see me in these.” Alexia gestured towards the baby pink sweatshirt with tiny puppies she was wearing. 

“You’re—”

“Insane?” Alexia grinned. Exactly like what the Taylor Swift song said. This was going as planned.

“No- well that too,” you said, looking at Alexia in disbelief. “What I meant to say is that you’re drenched.”

“Yes,” Alexia agreed. “It is raining.”

“Exactly! Why are you out in the rain?”

“Because- because I’m supposed to stand here like a ghost, shaking from the rain.” Alexia had a smile on her lips, hoping that you would smile back at her because that would mean that you didn’t hate her.

So when you laughed in disbelief and shook your head, ushering her inside, Alexia breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Do you want some tea?” you offered.

“No, thank you.”

“Right, my bad,” you opened your fridge, taking something out. “What I meant to offer is milk,” you placed the tiny sized milk carton on the kitchen counter and sat across Alexia. “I still can’t believe you drink this.“

“You don’t drink milk,” Alexia stated.

You shrugged, your cheeks showing a hint of pink. “This has been a permanent thing on my grocery list. It’s second nature. I guess.”

Alexia stayed silent. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she wasn’t expecting this. Maybe she was expecting you to hate her. For you to slam the door in her face and never talk to her again. 

With how your last interaction turned out, Alexia was expecting you to be more angry, or to be anything other than to welcome Alexia into your new apartment and provide her with her favourite drink that you still bought even though you two broke up months ago.

It wasn’t making any sense to her. 

“How are you so civil towards me?” Alexia blurted out.

“I’m sorry?”

“You didn’t slam the door in my face.”

You looked confused. “Was I supposed to do that?”

“No!” Alexia quickly said. “I mean- it’s nice that you didn’t slam the door in my face. I think I would’ve, if I were you.”

“Oh. Well. I don’t think I’m the type to slam the door in my ex’s face.”

Alexia laughed softly. “Thanks.”

“Welcome,” you grinned. A warm feeling settled in Alexia’s chest because she really missed that smile.

The silence that followed was nice. Alexia’s eyes darted around your apartment as she sipped on her strawberry milk. You poured yourself a cup of tea and it was still funny how your choice of drink was more mature than Alexia’s despite being five years younger than her. 

“So what brings you here?” you broke the silence.

“Oh,” Alexia rubbed the back of her neck. “Why I came here…” Alexia trailed off.

“Why you came here…” you copied.

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. She had a whole speech planned out, but now you were staring at her and Alexia was surprised that your eyes that used to look at Alexia with so much love were still looking at her the exact same way. 

That, and combined with the fact that Alexia couldn’t spot a single trace of anger in your face despite what Alexia did, made her burst into tears.

Here was the thing: Alexia disliked crying. That was obvious with the way Alexia cried for you months after you left and not the days that followed. Alexia was convinced that crying was a sign of weakness, so whenever she felt hot tears at the back of her eyes, she would always squeeze her eyes shut and push them away.

It was surprising to her that she was openly letting her tears fall in the middle of her ex’s kitchen, her chest shaking as her cries became harder.

Alexia felt you next to her and the next thing she knew, she was being pulled into your arms. She could hear the pounding of your heart and she could feel your gentle kisses on the top of her head. It felt good and it made Alexia realize that letting her emotions show wasn’t so bad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hm?”

“I’m really sorry for being so oblivious about things,” Alexia croaked out. “Sorry for hurting you. I never meant to.”

“Alexia—”

“Let me finish,” Alexia interrupted, turning in her chair to face you. She looked up into your warm eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. Just like what she practiced. “Uhm- it’s been a long three months. I was too afraid to tell you what I want—”

“You are not quoting Taylor Swift,” you were holding in your laughter. “Are you?”

“y/n,” Alexia groaned. “I don’t know how to do this, okay? But Taylor Swift said—”

You laughed so hard and Alexia felt the warmness back in her chest. “Sorry it’s just,” you sighed fondly. “You hate Taylor Swift, Ale.”

“I don’t! I just don’t know her well enough to like her,” Alexia corrected. “There’s a difference.” 

“Mhmm, sure.”

“I listened to a couple of her songs and they weren’t that bad. Plus, the lyrics really resonated with me.”

“So all this speech is just you telling me you like Taylor Swift now?”

Alexia rolled her eyes, ignoring your remark. “No. There was one song about being in love, and it was so-” Alexia’s voice grew smaller, her cheeks reddening before she could finish her sentence. “It describes how I feel about you. It helped me… understand my feelings.”

You had an amused look on your face, almost smug. Alexia’s face kept on flushing under your gaze. “Hm. How so?”

“Oh you know,” Alexia started fidgeting with her hands on top of the kitchen counter, looking everywhere but you. “Just… That I understand why they lost their minds and fought the wars.”

You were quiet before you burst out laughing. Alexia had an offended look on her face yet she was smiling nonetheless. “Excuse me,” Alexia chastised. “I’m trying to confess something here.”

You immediately pursed your lips but not a second later the laughters were back. “Sorry,” you said once your laughter died down. “You’ve been quoting Taylor Swift the entire night. Who are you, Alexia Putellas?”

“Can you not?” Alexia pouted. “I’m not good at this, you know that.”

Alexia could feel your hands cupping her cheeks, causing them to burn under your touch. All this felt awfully familiar and Alexia had to remind herself that you were broken up.

Taking a deep breath while still having you so near, Alexia continued. “I can’t remember what to say next. Maybe because you’re too close,” Alexia bluntly said. When a hint of hurt and confusion flashed across your face, Alexia was quick to clarify. “You’re making me nervous, y/n. It’s- I’m just so nervous. You know I always get nervous around you. Can you please stand at least five feet away?”

You shook her head in amusement and moved away, sitting on your previous spot across from Alexia. “You’re ridiculous.”

Alexia smiled sheepishly. “I think what’s ridiculous is how we’re broken up yet it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It does, doesn’t it,” you had your eyes casted downwards, a wistful smile on your lips. ‘Remind her how it used to be’, checked.

“I’m sorry I screwed things up. You know how dumb I can be sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you scrunched up her nose. “You can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“But I still love you nonetheless.” And there it was again, the challenge in your tone. Alexia was transported back to that night three months ago when you left.

“Okay…” Alexia dragged on. “I know what you’re expecting and honestly I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it but—” Alexia took a deep breath. 

“I don’t have much experience with love and believe it or not, I’ve never been in love before. I just don’t find it important. What was important to me was football and being the best in the world, making sure my legacy lives on and how my dad would be proud of me, wherever he is. So if you’d ask me what love was a year ago, my paper would turn out blank, because I just don’t care. Alba kept on making jokes about how I’m going to end up alone and—” Alexia laughed. “Frankly, it wasn’t even a joke because I was pretty sure it would come true. But then I met you, and I was so determined to prove Alba wrong because I can care about someone other than football, but then you left, and I was back to the sinking feeling that maybe I’m just not meant for anyone. And before you say anything, y/n, I know I can overthink sometimes—or maybe a lot. But uhm- you being gone, it forced me to think and I realized that it’s actually a lot simpler than what I imagined.”

“Alexia, breathe,” you interrupted, a fond look on your face. 

Alexia took a deep breath, she didn’t realize how much she was rambling. “Sorry,” Alexia smiled sheepishly, scratching at the back of her neck nervously. “What I meant to say is—“

You caught Alexia’s hands that were waving around crazily in front of her. “I think,” you laughed, you intertwined your fingers and Alexia had to take another deep breath because she forgot what a sight it was to see your hands locked. “I really think you should breathe first.”

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m so all over the place with you. I can win championships, but with you… I had to practice my speech in front of a stupid mirror, because I know this will happen. This, as in me throwing up words- God, I’m such a mess.”

“You practiced in front of a mirror?” 

“Huh? Yeah,” Alexia’s cheeks grew red. “Of course I did…”

You let go of Alexia’s hands and leaned back. “Well then, go on.”

“Huh?” Alexia squeaked.

“Yes, your speech. We wouldn’t want your practice to go to waste now, do we?” you were smiling and Alexia really wanted to kiss that smile away. 

“Fine. Yes. My speech.” Alexia took a deep breath. “y/n. Love is… Love is mornings with you and how your smile is the first thing I see when I wake up. Love is the sound of your laughter echoing throughout the supermarket aisle when I did a stupid dance after getting the last box of mac and cheese. Love is the nights spent together, feeling the rise and fall of your chest and how you talk in your sleep. Love is the silence on the way home, when we’re both too tired to talk, but it’s nice and I don’t mind it. Love is the way your hands instantly find mine every single time. And I know that love isn’t perfect because love is me breaking your heart and unknowingly breaking mine too. Love is scary because love is lowering your guards down and putting your heart on a damn silver platter and giving your person the chance to ruin you. But I’d let you, y/n. I’d give you a million chances to ruin me because I love you.” 

Your stare was intense and Alexia had to look away. “Te amo. I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, and I know it has been months and a lot has changed… but I’m here, if you want me. I am all yours. Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you ever since the first night, I think.”

Alexia forced herself to look back at you, her eyes locking with her favourite pair of orbs. “I want you for worse or for better, mi amor, and I would wait forever for you. I know I broke your heart, but I promise I'll put it back together.”

You had a smile on your lips and your eyebrow raised after Alexia’s last sentence and Alexia wanted to celebrate internally because maybe Taylor Swift was a genius after all.

But when you didn’t say anything else, Alexia’s smile dropped and she had to accept that you could very well reject her. It had been months. A lot could happen in three months.

Alexia could feel the start of pain in her chest but then you laughed and Alexia’s eyes widened because why would you be laughing if you were going to reject her?

“You love me,” you stated.

Alexia was still staring at you. “I do…”

You went closer to her until your hands were back cupping Alexia’s face and that was when Alexia realized that you weren't rejecting her. Holy shit.

“You dummy,” your tone was light but Alexia turned serious.

“I know,” Alexia sucked in a deep breath. “I was a terrible girlfriend, amor. I don’t know how you loved me when all I did was mess up, but I promise that I’ll be better if you—”

“We all mess up,” you interjected. “We’re not perfect, baby. And you’re gonna mess up again in the future and I will too, but we’ll get through it together.”

Alexia was silent, taking in your words. “So uhm,” Alexia had to contain herself from grinning from ear-to-ear. “You still want to be with me?”

Instead of answering, you leaned down and kissed her. Alexia let herself grin into the kiss and she swore that she would do whatever it takes to never lose you again.

—

Ale: I got the girl *insert smiling face with sunglasses emoji*

Albs: what

Albs: just use the emoji wtf weirdo

Ale: Thank you, Taylor Swift

Albs: you’re seriously so weird

Albs: how are we related?

Albs: but anyway congratulations 

Albs: you won’t end up as a cat lady after all :D

Ale: Fuck off, Alba. You know I’m allergic to cats

—

** INTERVIEW NOTES:

ALEXIA PUTELLAS

SHE SMELLS NICE Y/N !!! FOCUS

VERY SERIOUS, ONLY LAUGHED ONCE

JUST TOLD HER TO SMILE MORE BECAUSE SHE HAS A PRETTY SMILE WILL SHE KICK ME OUT

SHE LIKES TACOS ??? IS THIS EVEN IMPORTANT 

SMART, INTELLIGENT, VERY ELOQUENT WITH WORDS !!! JUST TAKE MY HEART ALREADY ALEXIA PUTELLAS 

HER EYES CRINKLE WHEN SHE LAUGHS OMFG ADORABLE

I THINK I’M IN LOVE

SHE JUST ASKED ME WHAT I’M WRITING DOWN

BYE

—

a/n: this was a looong one hope you enjoyed it, loves !!! please let me know your thoughts :) :) :)

[rawbin-hsr]

Rating HSR characters in relationships

Title is self-explanatory <3

Characters: Boothill, Dr Ratio, Blade, Aventurine (separately)

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

CW: cursing, mostly fluff and some crack

CW Aventurine's part: toxic dynamics, emotional neglect, jealousy, Aventurine in general

Lmk if there's any warnings I should add!

Had to restrain myself on Dr. Ratio I have soo bad brain worms about him rn he’s all I think about

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Boothill

10/10

DO NOT. AT ME. I PROMISE I’VE THOUGHT THIS THROUGH. I know most people who read that will be like “what the fuck Boothill would NOT be a perfect partner” and that’s where you’re right ! No, he would be an awful partner !

For MOST people. 

But see, he wouldn’t be just ANYONE’S partner. 

If you’re dating him, it means you’re exactly his type and he’s exactly yours. You wouldn’t date a guy like him if he wasn’t exactly what you wanted. He lays out all his cards on the table right away. Your relationship won’t have the chance to even begin if you’re not head over heels immediately bro 😭😭😭

With most characters I can imagine them in a relationship with a lot of different kinds of people. Like for example yeah I can imagine Aventurine both dating someone more reserved and sweet or someone bold and loud. Or someone like Argenti Lord knows that man could love ANYONE (or anyTHING tbh), but with Boothill there’s just a very narrow range of personalities I can imagine him with. Hence the rating cause he’d only be in one kind of relationship. 

You guys are a POWER COUPLE I tell you. It’s SICKENING how much you love each other and how well you fit together. Two peas in a pod. I’m gonna throw up. 

You both love the exact same things, you both HATE the exact same things, and you are both equally deranged and insane

The IPC hates to see you coming 💀🙏

You’re constantly in a friendly competition to outdo each other. Who has the higher bounty ? (Usually him) Who can drink most alcohol before blacking out ? (You, surprisingly) Who can kiss the other the most times during this high-speed chase ? (You always tie on this)

He swallows a bullet. You say “I’ll do you one better!” and swallow a knife. You are a human and so he needs to take you to the hospital so you don’t fucking die

(You both think it’s funny afterwards so it’s okay)

Even when you guys “argue” it’s never really that serious. Honestly you both think it’s kind of hot…… you argue in a devious, sexy way……. *smirks mischievously*

Sorry I cannot take him seriously

You match his freak <3

Nobody fucking likes you together. Separately ? Sure people like you. But the moment the two of you are in the same room it’s like you merge into one singular, horrible, annoying entity and NOBODY wants to be around to see it 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏 neither of you have gotten a lecture about how inappropriate pda can be and also the two of you speak total nonsense it’s incomprehensible to everyone else

Considering putting Boothill on my “do not request” list, not because I don’t like him but because even I don’t understand how the two of you would fit together I can’t write it y’all are that weird

Boothill is for the freaks and he is PERFECT FOR THEM !!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Dr. Ratio

9/10

Okay I’ll be honest I’m not very caught up on Dr Ratio (I briefly hated him I only recently started liking him again HELP) so forgive me if there is some mischaracterisation in this I’m working on it my view on him isn’t complete yet 🙏🙏

Though Ratio is very ruled by logic, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have emotions. Furthermore, he views these emotions as important. Logic is not inherently opposed to emotions, and in fact, ignoring them would be illogical. 

That is to say, yes, he’s an intellectual man. But he also has a high emotional intelligence 😇😇

Like not in the way of knowing how to cope with them. I don’t think he feels many strong emotions regularly (except for annoyance lol), so I think he in fact gets kind of overwhelmed by them around you and never knows how to regulate them properly HELP

But what I meant to say is that, in a relationship, he considers your thoughts and feelings a lot and makes an effort to prioritise them. He does not want for you to be unhappy. 

He values you very highly. He takes all your opinions into consideration and treats them with respect.

He loves you a lot it’s actually ridiculous. He frequently gets annoyed at himself for how much he finds himself downright SIMPERING over you. 

And like yes Ratio can be very harsh in the way he speaks but I think that 1, his care for people (including the “fools” and “idiots” he seems to scorn so often) shows and it shows even more apparently for people he cares about, and 2 I think he realises it would be inappropriate to be as rude as he usually is to you. You two are in a relationship, you are not some stranger. He cannot go around criticising you constantly, that would not be a healthy dynamic. Meaning he softens his vocabulary for you. 

His care for you is very blatantly obvious. In the beginning I think he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection. He hasn’t ever dated anyone, much less been in a relationship, with anyone before you (I honestly don’t even think he’s had his first kiss 😭😭), so I think his inexperience plays a part in it. But he still shows you as obviously as he can that he loves you, and he doesn’t shy away from vulnerability in private moments. 

Bro has researched how to be a good partner trust 🤞

He communicates very clearly with you as often as possible. He hates misunderstandings, and tries to avoid them whenever possible. The two of you are almost always on the same page. 

Whenever you argue, he still does not want you to leave the argument feeling unloved. Type to sigh, let his eyes soften and say “I believe it would be best if we both had some time to cool down”, then squeeze your shoulder as he passes you out of the room. Kisses you goodnight before you go to sleep. It’s often easier to talk it out the next day. 

The only things bumping him down from a 10/10 for me is the fact that he doesn’t have that much time to spare for time with only you (his schedule is very packed), and the fact that he cannot cope with his OWN emotions 😭 Great with yours because he can logistically figure out how to handle them, terrible with his own because they’re affecting his own mind and he isn’t used to it

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Blade

7/10

Surprisingly high rating for a guy like him but I swear I’ve thought about this ok don’t leave 😔😔😔

I think it takes…. A lot. Like a lot a lot. To break through Blade’s tough outer shell

He hates letting people in so much it’s actually crazy

The closest person he has before he meets you is probably Kafka, and that’s not really by his own choice he would shut her out too if he could 😭😭

(Not to say he isn’t like, calm and polite to people. He’s pretty reserved and just, like, quiet ig usually, he only really gets weird and aggressive when the Mara flares up or he needs to be for a mission. I just mean he isn’t gonna be open and available for basically anyone lol)

It’s mainly difficult to GET INTO a relationship with Blade, but if you do manage it, it turns out a lot sweeter than you’d expect

He’s just a deeply tired man. He is not malicious, he is not unnecessarily cruel. He is worn out and sick of living, of never getting the rest he so desperately craves. He finds some sort of respite in you, and so he treasures you. 

He trusts your judgement. He stands by you, no matter what. He’s loyal to a fault once you have him. The worst that could ever happen to him now is losing you. Even when he thinks you’re about to do something stupid (and he always tells you when he thinks it’s stupid), he’ll come with you. Better he’s there to take the hit for you than letting you go alone. 

Even with the smaller things, he shows it even more obviously. He cooks you dinner and lunch every day, so you don’t have to. He lets you decorate his apartment, and he never adjusts the things you place in it, even when it clashes horribly with his own style. He lets you drag him along anywhere, whether it be a concert or a park, without complaint. 

The main downsides with Blade are that he never, ever, verbally tells you that he loves you. Maybe once during your entire relationship he’ll say it, and probably when you’re on your deathbed, but he usually won’t. Even if you try to pry it out of him. 

He can be really mean in the way he says things sometimes, like telling you straight up your ideas are dumb, but it’s always softened by the way he agrees to do whatever you want anyways.

Another frustrating thing is how he cares very little for his own wellbeing. It’s a regular occurrence for him to come home with guts spilling out of his abdomen, and it’s really uncomfortable to see even if you know he can’t die. He can still feel pain, even if he’s learnt to cope with it well. It’s scary to see him so hurt so often. 

But you wouldn’t get into a relationship with him if you didn’t already know all this, hence why I rank him so high. He’s a lot better than you expected when you met him, which means you’re effectively in a better relationship than you’d have hoped 😭😭

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Aventurine

4/10 💀💀

I love him so much (my content is mostly Aventurine centric) but holy fuck man,,,

I have never and will never sugarcoat it Aventurine is TOXIC. Like GENUINELY. I wouldn’t say abusive but he can be really cruel. He gets lost in his own head and takes it out on you in ways he doesn’t really mean to. Aventurine is not a good person. 

He’s fucked up in all sorts of ways and it’s no surprise it could easily destroy any relationship

Trust issues ? Jealousy issues ? Commitment issues ? Attachment issues ? Insecurity issues ? Mommy, daddy AND sister issues ? Every kind of possible issue you can probably imagine ? Yes on all fronts, bro’s the full issue package 💀

It would take a very special kind of person to endure in a relationship with him (I would not be able to do it if he was real I’ll be so honest)😭

When things are good, they’re really good. He can be so fun and playful and sweet and he loves to spoil you and everything that belongs to him belongs to you. He loves you more than the air he breathes and he’d do anything to make you happy

The issue is, most of the time, things are not in fact good. 

I keep mentioning it but his relationships are always such a push and pull. A game of hot and cold. One second he clings to you and begs you to never leave him, and the next he won’t respond to your calls or messages. 

Even worse, sometimes he’ll be outright mean in order to push you away, insinuating you’re “holding him down” and that you’re “wasting his time”. You’ll find yourself questioning if he actually does love you, because what sort of person does this to someone they love?

(It keeps him up at night when he treats you badly. He hates doing it, but he needs you to hate him as much as he hates himself.)

Usually he’s a really smart guy. Even when he does stupid things (things like making a purposeless high-risk gamble, playing Russian roulette), he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. (He does it because he kind of hopes he’ll actually die this time.) But with you, he loses all his composure and can’t really think straight. 

He feels safe with you, and that scares him. He’s a danger to your safety, and it’s better to push you away, make you hate him, than it is to let himself be happy with you. His life is beyond saving, so all he can do to you if you stay is drag you into his mess. He can’t fix himself, not even for your sake. 

He lies to you, he neglects you (sometimes for weeks at a time), he builds up new walls between you constantly, but at the same time he gets insecure and jealous when you hang out with others. Only when you threaten to leave him does he finally start getting his act together, because he realises that now that he’s had you, he couldn’t bear to live without you (even if he knows that’s very selfish of him). 

He gets better with time, but I really, really doubt he’ll ever be fully healed. It doesn’t help that his job wouldn’t really allow it, and he can’t leave the IPC through any other means than death. 

I originally ranked him as a 3/10 (diabolically low rating I know 💀💀) but I bumped him up one because he will get better. If you stick around long enough, he’d probably make it to a 7/10, but since that would take like over 4 years of being in a relationship with him I felt it would be unfair to rank him much higher 😭😭 At the start he really fucking sucks dude I’m so sorry my condolences 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

[depresssant]

Shades of Cool

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

wsp guys. it's been pretty long, huh?... OK IM SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IT QUICKLY. here, damn 🙄. anyways, i hope yall enjoy n im glad u guys liked the first chapter. lets just hope this one lives up to yalls expectations 😭. follow me and repost this if u want a chapter three. also I NEED SOMEONE TO EDUCATE ME ABOUT SUNDAY FROM HSR BC I WANNA WRITE FICS ABOUT HIM SO BAD SO PLS SOMEONE EDUCATE ME N ALSO IF U KNOW LOVE AND DEEP SPACE??? PLS HIT ME UP AND EXPLAIN THIS LORE BC I WANNA WRITE YANDERE FICS FOR THEM SO BAD

“Why are balls called balls when testicles sounds hella fancier?”

At your friend’s bizarre question, the face of your other friend, Zarian, twinges in disgust. “Jayelene… why do you feel the need to put that out there?”

You huff in amusement, focusing on your pizza before what Jaylene says ruins your entire mood.

“I’m just saying! Testicles just seems more appropriate⏤the type of fancy shit drake and his family would say.”

Tim Drake Wayne…

Dinner with him and his freak-a-zoid family was like trying to make it past no-man’s land without any help to shield you from the straight up chilling vibes they gave off with their constant comments about bat facts. Bats. The atmosphere during the entire time you spent there was dreadful and quite literally heavy since Tim's youngest little brother wanted to sneak stares at you as if you wouldn’t notice his bug-looking eyes creeping into your soul.

Rich people really are weird, huh?

The Wayne family is nothing like how you expected them to be. They’re supposed to be cold, mysterious, and irresistibly enchanting, but all you’ve got are creepy vibes and a strong urge to stay away from them as much as possible. From the way Mr. Wayne made that weird comment about your father in the limo to how forcibly happy Richard or “Dick” was with you, you’ve come to an understanding that rich people are complete lunatics.

The Wayne family is full of a bunch of lunatics.

And you’re not afraid to voice that.

“There you go again,” Jaylene sighs when she notices the irritated expression on your face. “It’s never that serious, [Name]. You just hate everyone.”

“No, you don't get it! They were creepy as hell! Like… Like bats in dark caves coming at you all at once. They talk funny, they look funny⏤they act funny! What normal man name drops your mother’s name after knowing each other for about thirty minutes?”

Zarian huffs in amusement. “That’s the creepy part. How does Mr. Wayne know your name?”

“I dont know.” You run your fingers through your hair and lean back against the booth seat. “I don't want anything to do with them. Billionaire or not, how the hell does he know my mother’s name.”

It was perhaps towards the end of your stay at the Wayne’s manor for dinner, and you knew you had to go home, so you had largely hinted at leaving to Drake. Everything had gotten wrapped up, but when you were just about to leave, Mr. Wayne had told you, “make sure to tell [M/n] I said hi.”

You could only stare at him in shock as your body carried along, because how does a man as famous and wealthy as bruce wayne know your mother⏤your mother? He’s the chief executive officer of Wayne Enterprises yet mentions your mother?

That moment alone is enough to wave every red flag in your brain that screams at you, telling you something is up with these shady people. The only question is what? What can a billionaire possibly want from you? Out of everything the world has to offer, the most influential billionaire in America wants to target some meager high school kid?

What do these people want from you? Is it a rich people thing to play around with those below you? Well, you guess it probably is. Like, is Mr. Wayne gonna pop out with his soulless eyes and say, ‘you’re my long lost child?’ or something?

You still don’t know why you’re being a goat stuffed before slaughtering. These people want something from you, but you? You’ve got nothing to offer that they could want. Why the hell do they even bother? If there's one thing you really hate, it’s being left in the dark like this. Not knowing is terrifying. It's dangerous. Not knowing means not being prepared, and if you’re not prepared, you won’t make it out. Damn it, you should’ve booked it the moment Mr. Wayne mentioned your father in the limo. Movies and shows always display rich people as eccentric and psychopathic weirdos, and now you’re finally believing it.

Damn it.

You’re in danger. Okay.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But maybe it’s not.

You’ve watched enough true crime and have enough intuition and trust in your gut to know when something is wrong.

It’s not adding up.

You’re not dumb. You see all the warnings there, but what if you're exaggerating. What if this is just the nature of the Waynes, and you think you’re special enough to be noticed by them? Mr. Wayne is a damn billionaire! He’s got the money to do whatever he wants, so it’s only natural for him to do a background check on everybody that interacts with his sons, right?

It’s all in your head… It’s all in your head.

Sighing, you stare at the plate of food in front of you, appetite long gone. Still, you grab a fork and continue to eat as Zarian and Jaylene scream back and forth next to you. Drake, who had accompanied the three of you to the diner after practice, has left, thankfully. He left as soon as his food arrived while talking about some family emergency, and honestly, you’re pretty damn grateful for that.

Ever since dinner at his house, he’s surrounded you like a pillow smothering you, and you can’t do anything about it. He’s a billionaire’s son, for fuck’s sake.

It doesn’t take long for you and your friends to finish up, and you all part ways at the door of the diner before you clutch the straps of your backpack and walk around the city endlessly. This is a habit for you now⏤a way to put off going home as much as possible ever since you found out your mother’s boyfriend doesn’t come home until one or two in the morning.

That balding, ugly, sleazy piece of shit.

He’s as gross as every other man your mother’s brought home under the terribly veiled illusion that he’ll provide her a good life and treat her right. No matter how many times you try to tell that blind bitc… No. It's wrong. It’s not your mother’s fault.

But it sometimes feels like that, though.

Most mother’s destroy their own lives for their children, yet yours cannot even think about leaving the man that beats her child on a daily. Those types of mothers leave their spouses the second they see something wrong, while your mother treats those finger-print bruises around your neck like a necklace instead of abuse.

You’ve given up on her. You gave up on her back when you were eleven years old locked in a room with her boyfriend, and she didn’t listen. Or when you were twelve. Or thirteen. Or fourteen. Or fifteen. Or sixteen. Or seventeen. And now eighteen.

And each day feels like a repetition of the same. Wake up, go to school, practice, walk around, go home, get beat, and sleep like none of it all happens. It’s a routine you despise with every fiber of your being⏤makes you wanna jump over Gotham City Bridge before thinking about returning home because who would want to? Who wants this average life?

A life where you’re not happy enough, not sad enough. Not good enough, not bad enough. Not energized enough, not tired enough. You feel like a survivor of a plane crash floating on a raft at the center of the endless ocean with no way out. Everything just seems so vast, wide, and unreachable. How can you find the shore on a simple raft? How can you find a way out of inescapable misery if it’s not by drowning?

You’ve been waiting to find the shore, but it’s been a whole eighteen years since you’ve found yourself floating along the ocean.

That whole “it’ll get better” shit is a tragic lie.

Whatever.

It doesn’t matter⏤not anymore, at least. You’re going to get far away from this place and never look back. Never have to relieve this wretched city. Never have to be confined by chains again. You’ve only a few months left before you’re free.

Until then, you’ll have to be patient and go home because the sun has fully disappeared.

Nothing but satellites twinkle in the disgustingly polluted sky of Gotham City, and the streets have come to a staggering halt as you stroll about the sidewalks, trying to find the longest path to get home. One in the morning is always the perfect time in Gotham because it’s too late and too early to be outside, so it’s generally safe for a walk.

Of course, the universe likes to prove you wrong at every point.

The sound of a thud followed by a pained groan behind you has your legs locked and ready to run with your brain screaming alerts, but you take a deep breath and turn around. How bad can it get, anyways? The sight before you surprised you nonetheless. It’s… Nightwing, a Bludhaven hero, here in Gotham, just randomly popping up behind you?

With clear bleeding cuts and sprouting bruises across his body.

In the random alley you just happen to be in?

No. You’re looking into it too much.

His eyes lock onto and they make you freeze right then and there like he’s cast some spell upon you. But that’s for a cold, brief second before you’re hooking your thumbs under the straps of your backpacks and turning around hot on your heels, refusing to spare him a single second. 

You even hear him murmur a strained, “wait,” but you don't care. 

It’s rude, mean, cruel, and it’s also none of your business. All you simply do is walk ahead to your approaching doom with an pit of unease and bitter understanding of your helplessness in your stomach. You can already feel the soon-to-be new bruises blooming along your back.

You’re not a good person.

But, really, who is?

Smoking really does skill.

But now you know why people do it.

Each drag is more out of necessity than it is a choice ever since you’ve met your friend’s plug at the dumb age of sixteen, but it's a way to dull the harsh truth of reality. The world just fades into nothing but muted and mixed colors like the loud city underneath your balcony it blurs into a faint hum the longer you stare at the spiral puffs of smoke that disappear into the air. 

Everything’s bitter⏤the joint and you.

Really bitter at the blood semi-dried on your face and the dull ache along your back.

You’ve got about an hour and a half until you have to head out to school, so what other way is there to spend it than smoking away your brain? The joint’s a temporary escape, but it helps you stall whatever new feeling of despair you’ll feel for the day. Until you’re interrupted by your phone buzzing⏤the sound still a dull hum in your ears

“... Hello?”

“[Name]!”

Zarian’s voice?

“Where the hell are you? Hurry up and get to school or else you’re gonna get in trouble for not helping to set up the club fair, and coach will be on our ass! And don't forget to bring money for the tickets!”

Coach?... Club fair?... Club fair! Holy shit!

Your eyes shoot open, and you frantically scramble up, tossing the joint over the balcony railing before hectically staggering through the living room like a drunk man. Damn it, how could you be so clueless and forget such an important event? Especially one you need money for! Damn it⏤damnit! What do you do?

… Mom! She’s got a box of money somewhere in her closet, right? You’ve seen it before! It's just twenty dollars, and she wont notice. Okay… Okay. You’re quick to get ready. You wash away all the blood that’s dried on your face, brush your teeth, and change into baggy jeans and a clean shirt before storming into your mother’s bedroom and rummaging through her things. 

She’s off at work. Her bastard boyfriend doesn't come home until late at night, which means he’s probably already taken money for the day. Okay. That's fine. They won't notice.

But you can't find anything! What the hell? Where is that fucking box? You could’ve sworn it was there on the top shelf last night, but as you swipe your hands across everything on the shelf, you can’t find it. All of a sudden, something made of wood hits the top of your head and falls to the ground with a crack. You hiss, palm moving to cover where you got hit, but your eyes land on the box that now has money strewn all across the floor and a broken… false bottom?

What the fuck.

You pull away at the rest of the false bottom to only be met with countless photos of you as a child with your mother. Mom’s shit boyfriend had all the family photos taken down for some weird reason, so they’ve been here this entire time? All of these photos are full of you throughout every stage of your life, but some have different people in them as well. Their faces are either scratched out or they’re ripped out of the photo entirely.

From what you can gather, the figures are a man and what seems to be a teenage boy. The absurdity and even slight creepiness of the scratched out faces has you laughing, yet even with your now dulled senses, your eyes land on a photo you failed to notice earlier. Maybe you’re hallucinating. There must be something wrong with your brain. Or your eyes. The universe must be playing with you because is that a photo of you and a teenage-looking dick grayson?

Your eyes widen because it looks just like the strange man you had the unfortunate opportunity of having a conversation with during dinner with the Waynes. It’s him! More importantly, why the hell is he holding a ‘three year old’ you’s hand? You probably should be screaming. Yelling. Maybe panicking? But all you can do is shuffle through the rest of the box before your fingers graze against something metal that has your heart jumping.

It’s a small camera.

With a bat engraved on its side.

Ears ringing so loudly in your head you can't even think, you wipe your teary and red eyes hastily before grabbing a twenty dollar bill, putting everything except for the photo and camera in the box, set it back on the closet shelf, and hastily grab your backpack before making way to school.

The second you reach the damned place, you seek out your now three friends and drop into a seat with a heavy thud, sighing and meeting Tim's eyes with a burning gaze.

“You mean to tell me [Name] found the camera? And you decided to tell me after school?”

Time Drake Wayne sighs and runs his fingers through his black hair, shrugging apathetically while scrolling through every photo in his phone that he’s taken of you during the club fair. His brother, Richard, is pacing throughout his room anxiously as he rambles off about their latest fuckup. 

“Look, Bruce doesn't let any slip ups happen,” Tim murmurs in exasperation. “He wouldn't let this happen because [Name]’s mom and him talked this morning. Relax, he probably knows.”

It's not a lot, but it’s enough to calm Richard down. The man takes a deep breath but finds himself sitting down next to Tim, trying to get a good look at the pictures. “How mad was [Name]?”

“High, for starters, but clearly pissed off. Very observant, too.”

“Don’t tell anyone else. Not until Bruce gives us the okay.”

TAGLIST :

@ilovemyhusbandnanami (so real), @missikkj, @ferakillia, @darlinqvi, @soriansick, @sleepydhanie, @h0rr0r-10ver-69 (love ur blog aesthetic bae), @anuttellaa (OK WINX 😽), @feral-childs-word (love the pfp), @shycreatorreview, @friesandfixations, @stuff6969fuckyou, @babiebubsie, @jsprien213, @cattioo, @cherrydaisymanic (cheetah?leopard? printttt 😍), @00hellohello00, @princessloveweird, @amber-content, @idonthaveanameforthisacc, @f1lover4ever, @dreamsarenicer, @imaginarydreams, @solkara (love the calm aesthetic), @bobfood, @toast-on-dandelioms, @ijustfuckme, @cantfindmelol, @xx1shadow1xx, @azulawayne, @box-of-kinderjoy, @iamaunknownsecret, @missybabes, @phoenixgurl030, @couldeatthatgirlforlunch, @devils-blackrose, @arevvv, @freakthis, @yourhornysister, @kirahhhh, @perfectparadisegardener, @testishere, @spaceunicorn293, @vanilliona (love the pfpp), @uknowimdumb, @esposadomd, @dakotali, @lilyalone, @kore-of-the-underworld, @pix-stuff, @hellcatsworld, @chericia, @mspoisoncoil (love the bannnnerrr) , @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @cheeseburgercasserole (love the aesthetic), @twismare

so follow me n repost if u want part lll. and somebody pls explain hsr and love and deepspace lore to me. making a taglistttttt. if this post doesnt get as many likes as the first one, im deleting this series 😭. if u see a grammatical mistake, no u didnt 😃🔪

if anybody’s got requests about this series or in general, feel free to ask!!!

WAIT!! FOLLOW MY WATTPAD ACCOUNT : @depresssant. I JUS PUBLISHED A HISTORICAL YANDERE X READER STORY

[hotshotsxyz]

this town is only gonna eat you

(buddie) (s8 spec) (1.1k) already wrote some buck-gets-hit-by-a-car spec, so how about some buck-gets-shot? kept thinking about "take eddie [to the laker's game] and die" and uh... here we are. cw: mass shooting/ gun violence (described vaguely), somewhat graphic description of a bullet wound, blood edit: now featuring a companion piece

Buck is smiling when it happens. Grinning at Eddie like he hung the fucking moon as he points out what must be the hundredth interesting play he’s seen on the court tonight. Buck’s smiling.

Eddie registers the screams before the gunfire. He smells the metallic scent of spent shell casings before he sees the shooter. He tackles Buck to the ground before he realizes he’s already hurt.

Buck was smiling, but now his face is inches from Eddie’s and his eyes are wide with pain and panic.

“Eds,” he says, and it’s barely above a whisper but it’s still too loud.

Eddie shakes his head, a tiny, sharp movement. Buck takes a shaky breath and presses his lips together. He understands. Eddie hates that he understands. Thank God he understands.

There’s something warm and wet slowly spreading between them, and it takes Eddie several wasted seconds to realize it’s blood. He’s almost completely certain it isn’t his, which—

God, that’s so much worse than if it was.

One of Eddie’s hands is still cradling Buck’s head, an instinctive act of protection before they hit the ground. With the other, Eddie slowly begins feeling his way around Buck’s abdomen. His fingers brush against torn fabric and he feels nauseous.

I’m sorry, he mouths before pressing down hard.

Buck gasps in pain. A muscle in his jaw ticks with the effort it must take him to keep from screaming.

“You’re doing so good,” Eddie breathes into Buck’s ear. “I’ve got you; I promise.”

The bullet caught him somewhere along the fifth intercostal space on the right side of his chest. Eddie doesn’t have a way to feel for an exit wound, not without letting up pressure on what he knows is there.

At best, the bullet glanced off a rib and tore through nothing but skin and muscle. At worst…

At worst, Buck is dying beneath him and there’s not a damn thing Eddie can do, not until the shooter is dead or gone. All Eddie can do is pray. Pray and hope like hell that God has forgiven him for his incomplete confession.

Another spray of gunfire echoes through the arena. It’s nearly impossible to identify where it’s coming from, but Eddie’s got a vague idea based on the direction people seem to be running in.

Buck takes a ragged, watery breath.

For the first time in his life, Eddie hopes he’s crying. He draws back, just far enough to look Buck in his eyes. His eyes, which are clouded over in pain but free from tears.

Fuck, fucking goddamn it.

Eddie presses his cheek against Buck’s.

“Slow, steady breaths, okay?” he whispers. “You have to breathe through it, even if it feels like you can’t.”

The tiniest whimper escapes Buck’s chest.

“You have to, Buck, I can’t—” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shuddering breath. “I just need you to hold on,” he begs.

A single shot rings out, and nearby, something falls to the ground with a dull thump.

“Suspect is down!” someone shouts. “We’re clear for EMS.”

Eddie carefully extricates his hand from behind Buck’s head. “Hear that? We’re so close, Buck.” He brushes a thumb across his cheekbone, then sits up and raises his hand in the air. “Over here!” he shouts. “I’ve got a penetrating chest wound that needs to be on the first ambo out of here!”

Buck’s eyelashes flutter as he fights to stay conscious.

“Come on, eyes on me,” Eddie says.

With his free hand and his teeth, he tears a strip of fabric from his shirt to wad up and press into Buck’s wound.  The skin there is ragged and torn, almost certainly an exit wound. Eddie curses.

“I need EMS now!” Eddie roars, not tearing his eyes away from Buck for even a second.

“I’m coming to you!” someone calls back.

Buck’s eyes slip shut.

“No!” Eddie commands, rubbing his knuckles across Buck’s sternum. “You’re staying right here with me, you got it?”

Buck groans weakly. His eyes flick back open.

“That’s perfect, you’re perfect,” Eddie babbles. “Just keep—c’mon, Buck, just keep fighting. I need—you have to be okay.”

Buck’s lips part. “Hurt,” he breathes.

“I know,” Eddie says desperately, “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

A pained sound falls from Buck’s lips. He lifts one of his hands just high enough to ghost his fingers along the ruined hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Behind him, Eddie hears a gurney roll to a stop.

“Here!”

Eddie turns and find a young woman, no more than twenty years old, wearing a polo that declares her part of a private ambulance service. He doubts she’d weigh even a hundred pounds soaking wet.

“Alright,” he says, turning back to Buck. “I’m going to get you onto that gurney. Let me do all the work, okay?”

Buck’s eyes widen. He makes a strangled sound. “Hurt,” he coughs out again, fingers scrambling uselessly against the concrete floor of the arena.

“They’re gonna give you the good stuff at the hospital,” Eddie reassures. He lets go of Buck’s wound and pulls him into a seated position, then rolls him awkwardly onto his back. “I got you,” he says as he stands.

Eddie staggers beneath Buck’s weight but manages to get him down three rows worth of steps and onto the gurney without the young EMT’s help.

“We’re staged just outside the north entrance,” she says as she begins to push Buck toward a set of doors.

Eddie nods sharply. “He’s got a perforating chest wound, probable pulmonary laceration, and a history of pulmonary embolism. Allergic to naproxen,” he rattles off as he pushes the gurney alongside her.

“Um, okay, that’s—are you a doctor or something?” she asks.

“Firefighter,” Eddie corrects. “We both are.”

The closer they get to the exit, the harder Eddie has to work to keep pace with the EMT. He must be coming down hard as the adrenaline fades. A few spots cloud the corners of his visions. He blinks them away.

The doors to the outside fling open, revealing two paramedics from the 136.

“Diaz, is that you?” one of them asks.

The best Eddie can do is nod.

“Shit, and that’s—”

Eddie’s ears start to ring.

“Diaz, were you shot?”

No, he tries to say. One of the paramedics grabs him under the shoulders, and the other pushes his t-shirt up until—

Oh.

Huh.

He has been shot.

The paramedic in front of him is saying something, but Eddie can’t quite understand it. Over his shoulder, the EMT looks blurry and horrified.

The spots in his vision return with a vengeance, and in his last few moments of lucidity, it occurs to Eddie that the bullet in his abdomen is probably the same one that ripped through Buck’s chest.

Then, the world fades to black, and Eddie thinks nothing at all.  

[landososcar]

lover ; LN4

pairing(s) ; lando norris x swiftie!reader

summary ; in which y/n just wants to post pictures of her boyfriend, not expecting people to get the wrong idea

warnings ; smau, lots of fluff

note ; its 3am and i didn’t want to sleep til i finished this so idk what mistakes there probably is lmao😭 also just pretend the twitter stuff says 2024 i cba changing it all

instagram ; yourusername

liked by nando4lorris, carlossainz55 and others

yourusername i saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent 💓☺️

view all comments

user1 who are you

carlossainz55 you tagged the wrong account silly

yourusername you replied with the wrong account moron

nando4lorris you two aren’t slick

yourusename yeah ok mr nando lorris

nando4lorris you’re supposed to be on my side wtf

user2 i’m so lost 😭😭

user3 i’m confused someone explain

user4 babe everyone’s confused

user5 wait so is this carlos’ gf or not

user6 idk who you are but you’re hot as fuck

user7 ok i swear i’ve seen carlos wear that top in the 4th pic before

user8 yeah i think i’ve seen lando wearing it too tho

user9 but lando isn’t in this girls likes and comments

nando4lorris yeah guys you’re right she’s gotta be carlos’ girlfriend

yourusername nando4lorris fuck off i hate you so much 😭😭😭😭😭

user10 ????????

instagram ; yourusername

liked by landonorris, nando4lorris and others

yourusername i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life 🤗🧡

view all comments

user1 crying because lando liked on his main AND his burner (confirmed)

yourusername p.s. the tag in these pics is for PHOTO CREDS 😁

user2 LMFAOOO HER COMMENT

user3 girl said my mans is NOT carlos sainz jr🙅‍♀️

user4 i have so much to say

user5 the taylor love lyrics, the orange heart emoji, the flowers, the ladybugs, THE CAT CARDIGAN

user6 i think i would die for her

nando4lorris 🧡🧡

yourusername 🥰

carlossainz55 i thought you guys were still trying to be sneaky

yourusername carlos you’re the one making it hard to be sneaky

user7 oh it’s so lando

carlossainz55 oh well it’s been 4 years everyone already knew

user8 ITS BEEN WHAT JEHFKSKKS ????????

instagram ; landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and others

landonorris i’ve loved you (five) summers now honey but i want them all 😁😁

view all comments

user1 oh my god

user2 FIVEEEEE SUMMERS????? EVEN MORE THAN CARLOS SAID !/?;&2!@:9(

carlossainz55 i’m sorry i just guessed how many years because i didn’t know exactly just that its been a long long time

yourusername it’s ok carlos you were close

user3 SHES BEEN TO RACES AND NO ONES EVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HER OH MY GOD

maxverstappen1 finally mate

oscarpiastri wooo secrets out 🥳

user4 he used a taylor lyric for the caption im gonna be sick

user5 if you zoom in on the second pic you can actually see me drowning myself in the background

ciscanorris1 💓💓

yourusername love you🥰

user6 wait i don’t have twitter can someone explain

user7 oh BABE you’ve got some catching up to do

yourusername my fav boy love you to saturn ☺️🧡

landonorris i love you more than you love taylor swift🥰

yourusername ok settle down babe don’t go too far

landonorris no sorry you’re right

user8 when he understands that ones love for taylor is never beaten >>>>>

user9 i need them biblically

user10 i still don’t understand how they hid her for 5 years lmfaoooo

user11 yourusername ok y/n but did he take you to the eras tour

yourusername he got us tickets for a uk show later this year 🥰🥰

user12 now, how’d that curly haired vroom vroom bitch pull HER

liked by landonorris!

my other works !

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Monster (Homelander)

Description: Y/N and Homelander are soulmates

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 3,540k

They made eye contact for the first time and the colors started appearing for them both. Homelander waited his entire life for this moment and he couldn’t believe that his soulmate was his enemy. Y/N stared at him with a look of horror as she realized that the worst guy on the planet was her soulmate.

The others weren’t around luckily just them. They weren’t even in a fight she was spying on him at a rally that he was part of for Victoria. Y/N looked around at all the different colors of the universe that she could see and though she was amazed she was scared of who caused her to see these things. Homelander didn’t stop staring at her as he saw her look around. His stare wasn’t an evil one anymore. It was a curious one and a look of shock. Y/N saw that his eyes hadn't left her so she left. 

She couldn’t tell a single soul about what she discovered. Not even her best friends who hated Homelander. The Boys was a group that was basically created to kill the man. And Y/N was all for it but she couldn’t believe that the guy she was supposed to kill was her soulmate. Y/N was in shock but hid it really well from the group. “So what did you see?” MM asked her as they ate lunch. Colors she thought but couldn’t say that.

“He was just there at the rally. They must be working together.” She left before she could get the real information but if MM knew then she was sure he would understand but she couldn’t tell anyone. Starlight came in moments later and smiled at Y/N. Starlight was going through it and Y/N felt for her a lot. But right now Y/N had her own issue to worry about. 

Y/N had her own place but she wasn’t sure if she was comfortable sleeping there right now. Homelander would certainly find her especially after that. But maybe he would hate her as she hates him and not. She should have trusted her judgment because he did in fact find out where she lived. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She asked with hatred. “You know why I’m here.” He says and looks around. “Yeah well maybe we should let it go.” He chuckled.

Ugh why did his chuckle make her feel funny. “Yeah right. That’s not gonna happen.” He said. She stared at him and shook her head, “It needs to.” She was right. They needed to ignore the fact that they were soulmates but that wasn’t easy. “I get it. You’re with Billy and you want me dead but doesn’t this change that?” Why did he want that to change? He should still hate her no matter what. “No.” She said and went to shut the door in his face but his foot stopped it. She groaned and opened the door. “What they don’t know can't hurt them.” he said. 

She hated herself so much for the past few weeks. She was fucking the enemy and not just fucking him but falling in love with him. He was a monster and yet she still managed to see the good in him. Nobody knew what they were doing as he dressed in casual clothes to see her. When he was out and about in his uniform he was a different person. But in her home as he held her as she cuddled into his chest he was her soulmate and a damn good one too. “Ryan he uh he hates me.” He told her as they cuddled. Yeah I wonder why she thought but fought against saying that. “Why?” She asked, looking up at him. “I give him everything but yet he still cares for Butcher.” Hearing his name caused Y/N to mentally freak out. Billy would kill her if he knew what was going on.

“Billy cares about him.” She said. “Yeah but he’s about to die.” Y/N rolled her eyes at his words. That was shitty but she wasn’t surprised. She knew what Billy wanted and she was going to try to keep that promise she made to him. “Ryan’s a sweet kid.” She says and sits up. “Yeah but he needs to realize that we are stronger than humans and we matter and that Billy is just a dying vessel.” She looked at him with a glare. “Is that how you view me?” She asked. 

Homelander would never spend the night at her place as it was too risky in case someone shows up at her house. That barely happened but the last thing Y/N wants is for the world to know that she was with him. They haven’t labeled anything yet and Y/N didn’t want to. She was ashamed and embarrassed so she never wanted to put a name to anything. Y/N watched on her computer screen as FireCracker talked about how bad of a person Starlight was. It made her very mad because Annie was not a bad person unlike the Seven.

This new bitch was also obsessed with Homelander which Y/N hated but would never admit it. Homelander told her all about it and how he finds it weird. Y/N agreed with him but for different reasons. How could someone be obsessed with him? He was terrible. Y/N was with Annie when she decided to almost kill FireCracker. Though she couldn’t blame her. The difference is Y/N would have killed her. But Y/N didn’t have powers so she was useless. That night Homelander came to her house in his suit covered in blood. She gasped at the sight and let him in making sure nobody saw.

“What the hell happened?” She asked as she turned on her shower. He told her all about it and some tears were shed. She had never seen this man cry before and it broke her heart. His childhood was terrible and it made sense why he was the way he was. “Well for once I think you did the right thing.” She told him as she washed the blood off him. She agreed that they deserved to die. “You think I did the right thing?” He asked. She nodded. That made him smile a little but she saw. “That’s the only right thing I think you’ve done.” She said and his smile fell. He almost forgot that they were on two different sides. “Do you agree with what Billy does?” He asked her. “Some of it.” She said. Billy had a right but she did think that there were times that he went too far. “Why did you join him?” He asked her.

She set down the rag and sighed, “Men like you are the reason. I understand Billy.” She said. He raised his eyebrows. The woman certainly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. “Why?” “You raped his wife and caused him hell. If you don’t see why he does what he does then you need to open your eyes.” She said. “Well you certainly love to speak your mind.” He groaned. “Yup and if you don’t like it then leave.” “Can we not talk about what I've done? I have my reason too.” She rolled her eyes and left him in her bathroom. He got up to follow her. “Why are you walking away from me?” “You aren’t a victim to Billy. What you did was wrong and Billy has a right to kill you.” She said.

“Do you want him to kill me?” He asked and she turned towards him. “You don’t want my honest answer.” He felt his heart break of course she didn’t care if he died or not. “Well he’s never going to.” He growled. She ignored him and opened the door for him. “I’m sorry those people did terrible things to you but that doesn’t excuse what you did and are doing.” She said and motioned for him to leave her home. 

FireCracker was annoyed that Homelander wasn’t interested in her. She did everything for him and he just rolled his eyes anytime she was near him. She wanted to get to the bottom of it so she decided to stalk him. She knew he didn’t have a girlfriend or at least she didn’t think. But when she followed him to some random girl’s house she was met with a shocking truth. The girl looked familiar but she couldn’t figure out where from. She wasn’t a supe which was surprising because no ordinary woman deserved him.

She groaned as she saw the smile on his face as the woman let him in her house. The house was nice and she waited for them to go inside before investigating. Y/N sat on Homelander’s lap as she made out with him. His hands were placed on her hips and her hands placed on his chest. She’d never say this outloud but he was an amazing kisser. She pushed all her hateful thoughts towards him in the back of her mind. Her window was open but she nor Homelander heard FireCracker see them as they made out.

Homelander removed her shirt and threw it somewhere in the living room. FireCracker felt jealousy and she took a few pictures of them. She was going to find out who this was. Y/N pulled on his shirt signaling him to take it off. He did and she stared at his chest. She hated how hot he was. He smirked and pulled down her panties causing her to gasp as the cool air hit her wet pussy. “If you hate me so much how come you’re all wet for me?” He teased as he ran his fingers up her lips. She gasped at the feeling and he chuckled. “You’re so pretty.” He said and pulled her to her feet. She looked down at him as she was standing on her couch. He smirked and pulled her so her dripping pussy was in front of his face. He sniffed her and she nearly moaned at the sight. He pulled closer and licked her clit causing her to moan and grab his hair. He loved when she did that. Her other hand was placed on the couch to balance her as he ate her out.

His tongue felt like heaven and she enjoyed every second of him doing this to her. His hands were on her hips as he licked and sucked on her. Her moans were loud and pornographic. His name fell from her lips multiple times. Not Homelander but John. He hummed against her causing her to whine. Her high was close and he could feel it. “Cum all over my face love.” He said. She whined as she did. Her juices coating his face as her hips humped his face, riding out the pleasure. It was these moments that she couldn’t bring herself to care about who he was. He let her ride out her climax and ate up all her slick. She pulled away from sensitivity and looked down at him. His face was covered in her orgasm making her moan. She sat down on his lap with shaky legs. She cupped his face and kissed him tasting her juices on his lips and tongue. She licked the rest off his mouth. “I love you.” He whispered causing her eyes to widen. 

The pictures of them were posted to the internet the day after causing it to trend that Homelander had a girlfriend. Y/N was unaware of the pics as she walked in to where The Boys met up and was faced with disapproving looks. She gave them a confused look and Kumiko pointed to the TV. She looked at gasped at the pictures. They were of her and Homelander at her place. She looked at the others who didn’t look pleased. “Get the fuck out.” MM growled. “Can I explain?” She asked. “What’s there to explain you fucking the enemy?” He asked. She looked down at the ground.

“It’s not what you think.” She whispered. “Whatever it is I don’t care get the fuck out.” He said. Without a word she left the building with tears in her eyes. She knew she should have told them then and there what it was but she couldn’t. She was so mad that it got exposed and wanted to know how but instead she drove to the Vought building. Tears streaming down her face she got out of the car and made it into the building. Weird looks were given to her but she didn’t care. She was mad and she had a feeling Homelander set her up. She entered the elevator and hit a number hoping that she hit the right one. Luckily she did and walked out of the elevator The Deep saw her and smirked.

“What’s a hot thing like you doing here?” He flirted. Ugh she wanted to puke. “Where’s Homelander?” She asked ignoring him. “You’re the girl he’s seeing… he’s in there.” He pointed to the meeting room and she stormed in there. Homelander turned around at the noise and almost smiled at the sight of her until she slapped him. “You dickhead!” She yelled. “Ow what was that for?” He asked, rubbing his face. “You really thought that I wouldn’t find out?” “Find out what?” “That you leaked those pictures!” “What pictures?” He asked. She laughed. “You are such a piece of shit! I can’t believe I was almost in love with you!” She yelled at him. His face softened at her words, “You love me?” He asked. “No, why would I? You’re an awful human being. I hate that you’re my soulmate and I wish Billy would kill you!” She yelled. His face dropped at her words.

“Now the world knows about us all because you and your fucking ego!” She yelled. “I didn’t leak any pictures of us you bitch!” He growled and grabbed her by her throat. He left her up like she was nothing and she began choking. “I have done nothing but be nice to you and this is how you treat me?” He asked, watching her struggle. She couldn’t say anything and he chuckled. He threw her to the ground and watched as she gasped for air. “You really think I'm happy that my soulmate is a pathetic, no good human like you?” He asked. She stared up at him with hatred in her eyes. “You are nothing to me. You are below me and not worthy of me.” He screamed at her. Her face didn’t change and she stood up. “You’re a monster.” She said and left. He watched her leave and pulled out his phone.

What pictures is she talking about? His name was trending but when was it not? Though the same pictures of him and her were trending and he didn’t understand how and why did she think he was behind this? The pictures were of them kissing and it showed both of their faces pretty well. There was no doubt that The Boys knew about it and probably kicked her out. He tried to find the source of the pictures but it was posted anonymously. He needed to find out who did this. 

Y/N laid in her bed and cried for hours. She knew that it was a big mistake and she shouldn’t have let him into her home at all. He was a monster that she almost fell for. She hated herself and knew that her life was over and nothing good was to come. She had to get up and go get her things from MM. She wiped her eyes that were now sore from crying. She tried to make herself look like she wasn’t a hot mess and left her house. She pulled up to the building and sighed. She wasn’t sure she could do this but she had to.

She walked into the place with her head down. “I thought I told you to get the fuck out.” MM said to her. “I need to grab my things.” She said without looking at any of them. She packed up her things and felt eyes on her. She looked up and everyone was looking at her. “Why?” Frenchie asked. “Why do that?” She felt tears in her eyes again and she stopped packing. “The day of the rally that I went to and had to spy on him. We made eye contact and it was the first time I've ever made eye contact with him.

The world was no longer black and white for me.” She said. Annie covered her mouth and Hughie’s jaw dropped. “He’s your soulmate?” Annie asked and Y/N nodded now sobbing. Kumiko walked up and hugged her. She hugged her back and sobbed even harder. MM looked at her and sighed, “Why didn’t you tell us this?” “I couldn’t. I couldn’t let you guys hate me because of this.” “We don’t hate you.” Hughie said and Annie nodded. “He’s a monster and I hate myself for it everyday. He leaked those pictures. It’s like he planned this.” “He didn’t leak those pictures.” Hughie said.

She looked at him, “FireCracker did.” Her jaw dropped. “How do you know this?” She asked. “Well we wanted to know who leaked them and we traced the IP address and FireCracker did it.” Frenchie said. She couldn’t believe that she actually thought Homelander did that. She picked up her box of things and started walking to the door, “Thank you guys for everything. I’m sorry that all this happened and for what it’s worth. I want him to die.” She said. “Wait.” MM said. “I don’t really want you to leave.” She looked at him confused. “You’re family Y/N and this whole soulmate thing could help us.” She raised her eyebrow at his words.

Homelander glared daggers at FireCracker. He wasn’t a dumbass, he knew she did it and he wanted to laser her from where she stood. He hated what he said to Y/N and hated that she thought of him as a monster. Though a part of him knew it was true he still didn’t like the thought. He truly loved her and he knew she felt the same way about him but she tried to deny it. He had to fix things between them and if she truly wanted nothing to do with him. He would let her go. 

She sat on her couch as the memory of what they said to each other played in her head. She knew that she shouldn’t feel this way about him and that it was wrong but there’s a reason that he’s her soulmate. She was in love with him, she was in love with a monster and the more she tried to deny it the worse things got. A knock on her door ripped her from the memory and she got up. She opened the door and there he stood in the pouring rain. Her eyes widened and she expected him to laser her head off after what she said but he didn’t. “I didn’t release those pictures. It was FireCracker. I know you hate me and never want me to be in your life but I love you Y/N. I truly love you and I want more with you. You’re my soulmate for crying out loud. We are bound to be together. But if you truly hate me and think those things about me then tell me now and I will fly away from her and you won’t see me again. I’m willing to let you go if it means that you can be happy again.” She stared up at him as he told her that.

He looked like he meant every word. The rain poured on them as they stared at each other. He went to open his mouth again but she kissed him. It was like a scene from a movie. Her lips were on his and both of them felt complete. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. They didn’t care about the rain. The kiss lasted a long time before they pulled away. “I love you John.” She said and he smiled. For once in his life he smiled and it wasn’t fake. He picked her up causing her to let out a sound of shockness. She laughed as she carried her in her house out of the rain. He cupped her face and looked down at her lips. “My beautiful soulmate, the other half of me. The good half of me.” She smiled and cupped his face. “The bad half of me.” They both laughed. They kissed again but this time it led to something more and like the rest it was amazing but this time there was love in it. 

After it was over the both laid in her bed fully naked and cuddled up together. The silence was nice and peaceful. She felt happy about this and went to kiss him again but her phone went off. She saw a message from Billy that said, “Sorry luv I don’t care that he’s your soulmate. He needs to die and I will kill you too if you get in the way.”

[gasstationlady]

GUTS | a lando norris social media au | pt. 2

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader, ex!drew starkey x reader

drew is still hung up on y/n, but the grid’s new it couple couldn’t care less.

notes: final part of guts!! thank you so much for all the love you guys showed the first part <3 and dw i have so many more smaus in the drafts! tried to write and add a bit more but i ran out of space :/ i hope the plot makes sense! i feel like bc i know how i wanted the story to go i can't rlly spot the plot holes as easily.

disclaimer: NOT PROOFREAD. let's pretend that jennifer lawrence "kym illman" picture is olivia lmfaooo. btw the events in “GUTS” sometimes does not line up with the schedule followed in real life. again, no hate to drew and, now also, to ppl on the today show aha. (CONGRATS LANDO FOR P2 AHHH)

masterlist ⋆ previously

yourusername

liked by landonorris, drewstarkey and 4,810,592 others

yourusername thanks for having me vmas!!!! <3

View all 22,504 comments

yourbestie STUNNING

user pls not drew liking her post when he doesn’t even follow her 😭😭😭

↳ user no he’s actually so painfully desperate lmaoo

↳ user i’m glad lando and y/n are just ignoring him

↳ user girl i’m not, i want the drama AHA

user love u more than anything

user lando liking and the two of them now following each other 🤔 yup him and y/n are forrr sure together

↳ user yea after the deuxmoi post and lando’s soft launch it’s basically confirmed at this point

↳ user i wonder if she’ll be attending the next gp bc i’d actually die and then come back to life if it happens

user you look BEYONDDDDD 😍😍

user are we fr just gonna ignore drew like..

thetodayshow

liked by landonorris and 67,298 others

thetodayshow It’s GUTS day! We loved having @/yourusername on the TODAY plaza. 🍒🎤🧡

We sat with Y/N to talk about her new album and recent scandals surrounding the topics of her work. “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.”

Tune in on our Youtube channel for extra clips of our interview with Y/N and her performances!

View all 342 comments

user SHE ATE THOSE PERFORMANCES. DEVOURED.

user some of those questions were a bit invasive

↳ user i was thinking the same thing, but y/n handled that rlly professionally

user omg how have her vocals gotten better 😭

user lmaoooooo i see you hiding in the likes lando

↳ user it’s so cute that he’s following her activities 🥹🥹

↳ user he’s probably here bc of what she said in the interview

↳ user wait i didn’t watch everything, what did she say??

↳ user so they asked how she felt about her exes being a popular topic on the internet, and so she said “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.” they also asked about drew and whether they’re going to get back together (which, may i add, felt a little rude to me) and y/n replied with “Those who I’m close with can reach me anytime. I tend to not focus on anyone else.”

↳ user thank you for summarizing!! doing god’s work fr 🫡

user y/n handled the situation perfectly

↳ user no bc the way she said not too much but enough to stand up for herself and her privacy

user AHAHAHAHA SHE RLLY SAID AINT NO WAY SHES GOING BACK TO DREW

ynupdates

41,086 likes

ynupdates Y/n seen arriving in Singapore!

View all 462 comments

user wait you’re lying??? actually? waaait 😭

user IS SHE GOING TO THE GP OMG PLS

user i mean i knew they were together but imagine a paddock appearance 😩😩 i don’t think we can handle it guys

user if she makes an appearance at the paddock with lando, i don’t understand why he didn’t just go as her date for the vmas too 😭😭

↳ user i doubt they wanted to hard launch at the vmas lol y/n was barely even in the audience, tbh i think she left early

↳ user y/n has said before that award shows make her rlly anxious, so yea she probably didn’t want too much attention on herself esp with all the drew drama

user did i miss something, i thought lando was still in ny? why didn’t they just travel together?

↳ user lando probs had to leave earlier bc practice started on friday, and y/n still had a few tv show performances which i’m assuming is why she arrived today instead

kymillman

51,159 likes

kymillman F1’S NEW FAVORITE COUPLE

The first driver to arrive this morning was Mclaren driver Lando Norris. For the first time he is joined with his new girlfriend, Y/N L/N, a famous Filipino-American pop singer.

For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com

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user omg it’s happening it’s happening

user HEY SIRI PLAY THAT SHOULD BE ME BY JUSTIN BIEBER

user this pic should be put in the louvre that is how monumental it is

user THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT?? FROM KYM??😭😭

user first💔hard💔launch💔is💔a💔paddock💔appearance💔

user the hand holding 🥹🥹

user don’t know if i’m more jealous of lando or y/n

user damn god really out here choosing favorites

user they’re already becoming my comfort couple omg i can’t i love them so much

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,135,226 others

landonorris Singapore 🥈

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user so proud of you lando!!

user AHHHH y/n cameo

user god idk if i'm ever going to get used to seeing y/n with lando

user SHE LOOKS SO GOOD

user yay carlando podium !!! 🥹

— — —

8 months later

landonorris

liked by yourusername, yourbestie and 4,475,987 others

landonorris Happy one year, love ❤️

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yourusername there's nothing i love more than those chips

↳ landonorris 😐

user they're the reason i believe in love

user damn i think this is about to be lando's most liked post lmaoo

user the fact that he calls her love 😭😭

user luckiest man alive i stg

user how does she always look so good

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 6,788,335 others

yourusername cause i love to love, to love, to love you

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landonorris that guy's pretty handsome

↳ yourusername very :)

yourbestie LOVE seeing you happy

user omggg i'm crying i can't believe its already been a year

user might sleep on the freeway today

user let the light in is such a cute song to dedicate to someone

user LOL not the third pic

user i love them so much 🥹

user if you ever break up, love isn't real

[checkeredflagggs]

The Story of Us: Chapter 2

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: logan and you have been keeping a secret from everyone but it might be time for it to come out

a/n: while I do my best on most of my works to be race neutral, this one is very very very self indulgent 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: this is part 2 of 4/5, which will be released when they’re finished and I’m using pretty much everything from Taylor Swift

a/n3: I still don’t understand instagram so - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also I still hate twitter so I’ve replaced it with Bluesky.

a/n4: Also timelines? Never heard of them. This is set in 2024 but I’ve moved Miami to before Australia

a/n5: happy birthday Logan! The charles post is next but I wanted to get this out for Logan’s birthday!

a/n6: justice for debut and speak now

Part 1

y/n_gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 12,383,483 others

y/n_gossip: breaking! Coming from unknown sources are apparently leaked photos from y/n’s private phone.

My questions are how was she hacked and who is the guy!

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user1: what a gross invasion of privacy!

↳user2: seriously! Celebrities are just people too and they don’t need people nosing into their business

↳user1: well said!

user3: mother? has? a? boyfriend?????

↳user4: what! who! when! how! WHAT???

↳user5: this is not what i expected to see when i woke up…

↳user3: right??? Its like looking both ways crossing the streets and getting shit on by a bird…

↳user4: …what???

user6: please do NOT tell me that crazy person is right?? I don’t think I could take it if they were right and it’s Logan Sargeant

↳user53: I think you might have to get used to idea that they were right

↳user19: ok that’s like really rude but I’m gonna ignore it because you’re agreeing with me

↳user7: ok but NO WHERE does it imply that this guy is Logan

↳user8: also where is it said that these photos are of y/n?? She’s been spending a lot of time with yoursister and yourbff

↳user7: more of a long shot but still possible!

↳user19: I’m gonna hold it over your heads for the rest of forever

↳user53: alright let’s roll it back now. Maybe wait to gloat until you’ve actually been proven correct?

↳user19:…fine

Private Messages, Logan and Y/N

f1gossip

liked by not_logan, not_oscar, user, user and 583,902 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, pierregasly, alex_albon, landonorris, georgerussell63

f1gossip: within minutes of the leak of y/n’s photos, several drivers had posted a collection of photos to their stories. Looking closely at them, the range of photos could be taken to mean that they were the guy in the photos with y/n (who people are speculating is her unrevealed boyfriend)

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user9: ummmm…this is not it guys 😂

user10: I didn’t think silly season was going to include drivers strongly implying they’re cheating on their girlfriends

↳user11: oh my god I didn’t even think of that

↳user12: just wait — give it a few days and the wags will be posting similar photos 😂😂

user13: the desperation radiating from these pics is incredible

↳user14: so is the second hand embarrassment

↳user15: so true. I’m cringing for them jesus

not_oscar: what??

↳not_logan: no

↳not_oscar: what the fuck is this

↳not_oscar: ew

↳not_lilyz: 🤣🤣

↳not_lilyz: ok but i need answers

↳not_oscar: oh ill get some answers alright

user16: ok but tagging them???

↳user17: so bold. I don’t think I could live after it

↳user18: it’s not even about me and I want to crawl under a rock and die

↳user17: big mood

Private Messages, The Grid (Unserious)

Private Messages, Logan and Y/N

williamsracing

liked by user, not_y/n, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 2,234,123 others

tagged: alex_albon, logansargeant

williamsracing: watch as our drivers take on the Duracell RC Challenge and answer fan questions! Full episode out now

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user20: this is so cute!

↳user21: I know! It’s always so fun to see Logan and Alex clearly enjoy themselves

↳user22: it’s so good to see them smiling!

user23: ok but those questions???

↳user24: forget all the questions — I want to tattoo Logan’s look of mischief when he said cardio was his favorite form of workout

↳user23: oh my god I thought was just me who saw that!

↳user19: well if my girlfriend was y/n, cardio would also be my favorite workout

↳user53: I’m judging you

↳user19: but are you disagreeing with me?

↳user53:…no

↳user19: ha!

↳user23: …are you…flirting…on my comment thread????

↳user19: WHAT? NO. ABSOLUTELY NKT

↳user53: hahaha I don’t now what yours talking about

logansargeant: best media day so far!

↳alex_albon: I don’t know how you did it but I’m sure you were cheating

↳logansargeant: haha 😆 you can’t prove anything!

not_oscar: so we’re being freaks on main now?

↳not_logan: and what of it?

↳not_y/n: yeah don’t kink shame us oscie

↳not_oscar: oh i'm definitely doing more than that

↳not_lilyz: oh like you haven’t done anything freaky too

↳not_logan: ha!

↳not_y/n: thank you lily

↳not_oscar: really love?

↳not_lilyz: 🤭🤭

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri, pierregasly, and 15,273,273 others

tagged: y/n, y/n_nation

f1: …Ready For It? Y/N has arrived ahead of the Miami GP where she will be singing the national anthem to kickstart the day!

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user25: classy!

↳user26: she always is!

y/n: it’s an honor to have been asked! And the warm welcome from everyone and their teams have really made the day something special! 🩵

↳logansargeant: oh everyone has been very excited to have you in the paddock!

↳oscarpiastri: very excited indeed

↳charles_leclerc: Bienvenue au Grand Prix ! Vous êtes en effet un spectacle très apprécié à voir! “Welcome to the Grand Prix! You are indeed a very very welcome sight to see!”

↳pierregasly: C'est toujours un honneur d'avoir une jolie jolie fille qui vous attend! “It’s always an honor to have a pretty pretty girl waiting for you!”

↳user27:…I thought the desperation was over…

user28: god what a whore…useless too. Made it too hard to get tickets. Too many silly stupid little girls who don’t know anything about the sport got all the tickets just to see her

↳alex_albon: wow I didn’t know mouths could spew such shit

↳maxverstappen1: I wouldn’t worry about not being able to get a ticket 👍🏻 you’ve been banned!

↳landonorris: not only by the individual teams but by the sport as a whole

↳f1: well said drivers! user28 that is not the attitude that we support here in f1! We welcome (nearly) everyone to the Grand Prix’s whether they’re here to watch the race or to watch y/n!

↳user29:…shut down!

user30: my favorite part of today so far has been how stupid the drivers turned when y/n got close to them!

↳user31: there was absolutely no thoughts in the heads of the Ferrari men

↳user32: (or their girlfriends let’s be real)

user33: I wish someone had gotten close enough to the alpine garage…

↳user34: god I know! The Kelsey brothers were there and based on their faces whatever Pierre was saying was probably outrageous af

↳user35: well he’s publicly called himself a tripod so we know he has no shame

user36: Oscar’s look of disgust whenever Lando and Alex opened their mouths tho…

↳user37: oh he was going through it today

↳user19: Love how logan was just laughing in the background though

↳user53: well if you’re right, they’ve been together for years so he’s probably pretty secure in their relationship…

↳user19: if?!??

↳user53: THERES STILL NO PROOF

williamsracing

liked by not_y/n, georgerussell63, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 1,334,274 others

tagged: logansargeant

williamsracing: Logan podium! I repeat!!! LOGAN PODIUM

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user38: I never thought I’d see the day

↳user39: well damn that’s kinda really rude

↳user38: be so for real right now did you ever think Williams would podium? Let alone Logan??

not_y/n: yeah you’re gonna get the best head of your life tonight babe

↳not_logan: 🥵🥵🥵🤩🤩🤩

↳not_oscar: please for the love of everything keep that shit to yourselves

↳not_y/n: just say you’re jealous and move on Aussie boy

↳not_oscar: why am I friends with you again

↳not_logan: we really didn’t give you a choice

↳not_y/n: we grew on you eventually!

↳not_oscar: like mold

↳not_logan: boo!!

↳not_y/n: boo!!!

oscarpiastri: congrats Logan!

↳logansargeant: thanks man!

alex_albon: congratulations! Show them how it’s done!

↳logansargeant: you know it! But it’s your turn next!

↳alex_albon: 🙌🏼🙌🏼

jv.f1: congratulations

↳user40: what in the world is with this dry ass congrats???

↳logansargeant: thank you!

georgerussell63: Many congratulations Logan! It was great to finally share a podium with you

↳logansargeant: thank you George! Hopefully the first of many!

logansargeant

liked by not_y/n, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 778,445 others

tagged: williamsracing

logansargeant: P3 BABY! WE DID IT! THANK YOU EVERYONEEEEEEEE 🩵🩵🩵

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user41: CONGRATS LOGAN

↳user42: THATS OUR AMERICAN BOY

y/n: Congratulations Logan! You do Florida and Miami proud

↳logansargeant: thanks y/n! You must be my lucky charm though

↳y/n: Oh no that was all you!

↳user19: 🫵☝🏻🫵🫵🫵🫵☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

↳user19: THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!!

nicolepiastri: congrats Logan!

↳logansargeant: thanks Mom Piastri

↳oscarpiastri: and what of your actual son?

↳nicolepiastri: you’d like a congratulations for 6th?

↳oscarpiastri: well yes?!

↳nicolepiastri: hmmmm whatever you want sweetie. Congratulations on 6th

↳user43: I live for Nicole dragging Oscar

user44: such a great drive today Logan! Show ‘em what Americans can do!

not_y/n: possibility of you sneaking away before media to meet me?

↳not_logan: not likely

↳not_y/n: damn. Well just now I’ve made it back to our place and I’ve found a way to keep myself busy 😉🥵

↳not_logan: you can’t do this to me. Not right before I have to talk to Jensen and Nico

↳not_y/n: 🤭🤭🤭

↳not_oscar: or never. You can do this never

jensonbutton: congrats kid!

↳logansargeant: thanks jenson!

Private Messages

y/n_nation

liked by user, sabrinacarpenter, georgerussell63, zendaya, oscarpiastri, and 19,245,927 others

y/n_nation: Our bags are packed and the flights are here! Welcome to the Eras Tour!

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zendaya: what a wonderful night 🖤

↳tomholland2013: thanks for dragging me!

↳zendaya: you begged me to go?

alexandrasaintmleux: what a stunning show! Best night of my life!

↳charles_leclerc: what an amazing show y/n! Love your piano work!

↳user48: flirting with another woman right underneath your girlfriends comment??

oscarpiastri: fantastic time!

↳hattiepiastri: THANK YOH OSCSR!

↳not_y/n: glad you enjoyed yourself!

↳hattiepiastri: thank you for the tickets and the sweaters and the records!!

↳not_y/n: anything for my favorite Piastri!

↳oscarpiastri: you’re welcome 😑

alex_albon: by far the best concert I’ve been to!

↳lilymhe: thanks for taking me baby!

↳alex_albon: of course!

↳lilymhe: and thanks y/n for such a magical night 😘

↳user49: what’s with the weird flirting? What’s happening right now???

carmenmmundt: ¡Qué noche tan magnífica! ¡Gracias y/n! What a magnificent night! Thank you y/n!

↳georgerussell63: I loved every moment of it y/n!

↳user50: I see the desperation has found this post as well 😂😂

↳user51: so has the second hand embarrassment 🫣🫣

user52: I can’t feel my face or my feet but oh my god what a magical night

↳user54: absolutely worth it!

↳user52: definitely gonna be the concert of the year!!

Bluesky

[sams-sass]

Remembrance of Things Past

Hi!!

I actually wrote a Dean fic...like what? I hope you enjoy! Special shout out to all my bunker babes for the confidence boost!!

Warnings: Langauge, smut, a wee bit of heartbreak?

Summary: You and Dean find each other again.

_____________________________

The motel door slammed shut behind Dean’s back, loud and heavy. He turned to face you; his eyes were emotionless, and his jaw tightened. 

“So you’re not coming?” He asked you. 

“Please, Dean…I can’t,” You said softly. 

He ran his hand down his face and nodded, looking at the wall before connecting his eyes to yours again. 

“Well, that’s just great, Y/N.” His voice was like venom. 

“Try to understand…I just…I can’t watch…” Your voice betrayed you, breaking as the lump in your throat grew. 

You stepped toward him, taking his leather jacket into your fists as you pressed your body against his. You leaned your forehead against his cheek, inhaling his intoxicating scent. He pushed your hands off him, shaking his head and stepping away. 

“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to fuck with my head.” He spat. 

“It’s too much.” You whispered, crossing your arms over your chest and squeezing yourself. 

“And how the fuck do you think I feel? It’s too much for you? I’m the one who made the deal. I’m the one who's gonna-” Dean stopped, leaning on the small desk in the corner and hanging his head. 

You stepped toward him again, raising your hands to lay on his back. Dean instinctively moved away from you, jolting his body to the side to avoid your touch. You held your hands up for a moment before lowering them again, and this time, Dean let you touch him. Swallowing thickly, you ran your hands over his jacket, trying to calm the situation as best you could. 

“I’m sorry.” You said finally, speaking loud enough to know he would hear you. 

“I would stay for you.” He mumbled. 

At that moment of rare fragility, you knew you had broken down at least one of his walls. The truth was, you didn’t care about him opening up to you. You didn’t need to hear him say how he would stick it out until the end or move heaven and earth to be by your side when the time came. You knew this. You knew he would extend a devotion to you that you weren't giving him, and you hated yourself for it. Your hands slipped under his jacket and the fabric of his shirt. His back was warm as you ran your touch over his freckled skin. A ragged and heavy breath left his lungs. He glanced up at you, making eye contact in the mirror. His body turned to face you, your hands now resting against his bare stomach. Placing his forehead against yours, he closed his eyes. 

“Please stay.” He whispered. 

“I love you…so much. But I can’t watch you die.” You answered, feeling him pull away again. 

Dean took both of your hands into one of his, yanking them from under his shirt but keeping you close to him. He looked deep into your eyes, his sage ones glassy and red. 

“Thanks a lot, kid.” He said, his voice coming from low within his chest. 

He walked away from you, pulled the door open, and stopped in the doorframe. You watched as his shoulders moved with heavy breaths before he turned back around. He crossed the motel room in three giant steps and grabbed your face between his hands. His lips attached themselves to yours before you could even breathe. His kiss was full of passion and fear. You could feel the vulnerability in every swipe of his tongue. He dug his hands into your hair, scratching your scalp with his fingertips. You wrapped yourself around him and clung onto the last thing you would carry of him. Committing every breath, taste, and moan to memory as you let yourself fall into him just one last time. 

Suddenly, he stopped. Leaning his head against yours once again. You both held each other in the silent space momentarily before his broken, husky voice whispered. 

“Don’t forget me.” 

You nodded your head, feeling your chin begin to quiver. He was gone just as fast as he had come back to you. The door slammed on its hinges, and you were utterly alone. 

Two Years Later

The warehouse was void of life as you expertly moved around the halls. You rounded the corner, pulling the gun closer to your chest and breathing. A soft shuffle made your hair stand on edge. Leaning against the wall, you ventured a peak into the next room. A tall man stood with a gun of his own, his brown jacket grazing against his jeans as he crept around toward the back of the room. You held in the gasp that filled your lungs, closing your eyes and mentally cursing yourself. You could run for it. Fly as fast as your feet could take you towards the exit. You could wait him out. Or you could…and before you knew what you were doing, you walked into the room.

“Sam?” You said, disbelief in your voice. 

He whipped his head around, aiming his gun perfectly at you. A look of shock, confusion, and anger crossed his face. 

“Y/N?” He asked, lowering his gun quickly. 

You smiled at him, feeling years worth of memories swarm you in an instant. Your eyes began to fill with water when you heard the cocking of a gun. A cold shiver ran down your spine, your palms suddenly getting clammy. You let out all the air in your lungs. Every fiber of your being told you not to turn around. Don’t look. You held Sam’s eyes with your wide stare for a beat too long. Don’t you dare look. For the love of god, just run away. If you look at him, it’s all over. You turned slowly. 

Dean’s chiseled face sat emotionless, his gun mere inches from your head. You felt your mouth go dry, desperately trying to swallow saliva to keep yourself from coughing. Sage eyes locking with yours for the first time in so long. You almost cried out in joy. Your mouth opened and closed again. Eyes blinking and heart racing, you wrapped your hand around the gun as well, stepping towards him as he lowered it to his side. You were so close to him, his face impassive as he looked down at you. Your chest was just a breath away from his. His body was stiff and unmoving. Slowly, you tilted your head back to look at him better. He glared down at you with hard eyes.  

“Dean.” You said, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. 

“Y/N.” His voice was low and rough. 

You let go of the gun and stepped back, nervously scratching behind your ear. The awkward feeling settled over the three of you thickly. 

“So…you’re also after the ghoul,” Sam said, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah, been trailing it for a few days now,” You said, keeping your eyes on Sam. 

You missed him—sweet and soft, Sammy. You missed how he would gently knock on your door in the morning. You missed his warm scent when he placed his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close after one too many beers. You missed how he always remembered to put precisely 2 and 1/2 teaspoons of sugar into your coffee. While researching, you would look up and swear you saw him sitting on the end of your bed with his nose in a book. You had almost forgotten how tall he was or how his dimpled smile could make you forget about the world momentarily. You missed your friend. 

“Well, we’ll take it from here. Thanks for the interruption.” His voice spoke. Your eyes slowly shifted to Dean. His angular face was stoic and harsh, the sporadic lighting of the warehouse casting shadows on the deep contours of his cheeks and nose. 

To say that you had missed Dean in the same way that you had missed Sam would practically be an insult. It was more than just missing him. It was a deep and guttural longing that had you curled under the covers, unmoving and unfeeling for days after he left. There was no way to decide what you missed most. Was it his warm breath against your back on slow mornings after a hunt? Lips and hands drawing an absent pattern across your sore muscles and tired skin. Was it his long fingers intertwining through yours as the Impala tore down a dirt road, the sunlight bouncing off its black paint? Or perhaps it was how his expressive jade eyes would always find yours first. On every case. Every hunt. Every monster. Those earthy pools of warm waters full of lilypads and speckled flowers holding your gaze, reading your mind, and drowning your sorrows. Or it could be when he smiled with his eyes—saying your name and touching your face with the tips of his fingers? Maybe it was the nights where you gave yourself to him and he you? Minds fold to the intensity of the body's pleasure. Arms and legs wrapped around each other so tight, as if the other person would explode into a thousand pieces at any moment. With hungry lips and a thirsty tongue. Allowing all to be explored. All to be sacrificed and exposed. Although you couldn't pinpoint it, you knew it was when he told you he loved you. When he dropped the act and let himself feel the world. In those moments, he could choose to feel the bad. The ache. The hurt. But he would choose to feel you. To tell you he loved you. The soft words in your ear, his breath playing with your hair gently. His hands circling your wrists, feeling your quickening pulse against his skin. 

“I-” You started, not knowing where you were going with your sentence. 

“You what?” Dean cut you off. “You wanna work this together? Like old times?” He asked, his voice full of anger and hurt. 

“Dean…” Sam tried to calm his brother down. 

“No, Sammy. I want to hear what she has to say after all this time.” Dean's voice shifted to one of controlled arrogance. But you knew him. You knew how much pain he was trying to mask. 

“Look, I know you hate me. To be honest, I hate me too sometimes…I had no idea you were going to be here. Honest.” You said, holding up your hands and stepping back when Dean approached you. 

“Right. So, like I said, we’ll take it from here.” Dean said, pointing his finger between him and Sam. 

Suddenly, you felt angry. You didn't know where it was coming from, but you saw red, and your “calm, cool, and collected” attitude began slipping away. 

“What? No! I was here first. I was the one who found this place by myself, might I add. The only reason I even got distracted was because of Sam’s huge, clunking feet.” You argued. 

Sam tilted his head, letting his face fall into one you had seen so many times before. The bitch face. 

“You know, you could always be a brat when you wanted to,” Dean said, stepping towards you. 

“I recall you liking that, Winchester.” You countered, stepping towards him, too. 

“Funny.” He said, his voice dropping deep within his chest. “I don’t recall much.” 

“Neither do I.” You practically whispered. 

“I thought I told you not to forget.” He said with authority. 

“And I thought you would have learned a long time ago. I don’t always follow your orders.” You retorted. 

In that moment, you saw something pass through his eyes. A memory long forgotten and put away resurfaced. His cheeks flushed slightly. His eyes lowered to your breasts, holding his gaze there for a beat before following the curves of your neck to your mouth. Your lips parted, allowing a small breath to escape. Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the plump flesh before it popped back out. Pink and wet. 

“Come on, Sam. I could use the sleep anyway.” And with that, they were gone again. 

Because of your little production with Dean, the ghoul was long gone by the time you found its hideout. You repacked your car and slammed the trunk, throwing out every curse word you knew into the windshield as you drove away. You rolled your window down and let the night air cool your heated flesh. The moonlight couldn't hide the memories that saturated your mind. It was as if double doors opened, and everything you had put behind you came raging into focus. Hearing his thick voice say your name made your time with the Winchesters play out in front of your eyes. You and Sam reading over books at a diner table, plates and cups littering the space. You and Dean counting down before jumping into the swarm of vamps together. Sam’s hair blowing in the passenger seat. Dean’s groggy voice in the morning. Dean holding Sam’s shoulders as he has yet another vision. Dean smiling at you, a smear of blood covering his freckles. Dean clanking his beer against yours. Sam laughing over the jukebox of some dive bar. Dean pulling you close and burying his face into your hair after a particularly long hunt. Sam pushing you behind him as the wendigo approached. Dean slipping his fingers under your shirt, tickling your skin. Dean sneaking into the shower with you when you were trying to keep your relationship a secret. Dean whispering “I love you” for the first time in an empty field under the stars. Dean running his fingers through your hair while a movie played on the T.V. Dean giving your hand a squeeze before charging at a ghost. Dean holding your face in his hands, blood spattered across your skin. Dean pulling you into him in his sleep. Dean stitching up your wounds in the motel room. Dean kissing you in the back of the impala. Dean. Dean. Dean. 

Fuck! You slammed your car into park and charged into your motel room. Your fingers ran through your hair frantically as your heart rate picked up. Your feet paced quickly across the room, heavy breaths pulling in and out of your lungs. Just as you were about to collapse, a knock on the door stopped you. You knew it was him. You closed your eyes and swallowed down your anxieties. 

You opened the door to his angry face. 

“How did you find me?”

“I remembered you liked the nicer things.” Dean pointed to the motel sign. 

You nodded, pursing your lips together.  

“Tell me what happened,” Dean instructed. 

“You know what happened.” You said around a sigh. 

“Ya know…I thought I did.” His arrogant voice was back. “But the more I think about it, the more it doesn't make sense,” Dean said, coming close to you. 

“I think you and I have had enough for one night.” You said, trying to close the door. 

Dean’s open palm stopped the door from moving further, “I’ll say when I have had enough.” 

“Dean-” You began to protest again. 

He pushed into the door, crowding your space and entering your room. 

“Come on in.” You mumbled sarcastically. 

“I don’t know what you think you are going to solve by bothering me.” You tried to play annoyed. 

“How about the fact that it came out of fucking nowhere?” Dean said, holding his arms out to his sides. “I mean really. One day you are telling me you love me and that you can’t imagine your life without me, and the next-” Dean stopped himself. 

“I’m breaking your heart.” You filled in the rest. He nodded, holding your gaze as he did. 

“It’s like I said, I couldn’t watch you die.” You responded as emotionless as you could. 

“Bullshit. I gave you an out in Lincoln. I told you to go. I told you to get as far away from me as possible. To live your life and leave me to suffer the consequences of my actions. And you stayed. You said you would never leave me. And not two weeks later…your fucking gone.” He dropped the arrogance, his voice now full of confusion and anguish.  

He was right. That is precisely how it played out. 

“Tell me what happened.” He asked again. 

“I did.” 

“You didn’t,” 

“Dean” 

“Y/N.”

There he goes again. Saying your name with that wicked tongue. 

“Please-” Your voice breaking. 

“So there is more?” Dean asked, stunned. 

“I can’t.” You whispered. 

“You can.” There was no anger now. His shoulders dropped, and his face was left full of despair. 

Dean crossed over to you, took your wrists within his hands, and pinned you against the wall. He looked deeply into your eyes, searching for an answer. 

“Baby, tell me what happened.” He said one last time. 

“It was the angels.” You finally relented. 

“What?” His brow furrowed, and his eyes moved quickly between yours. 

“Well, one angel. Zachariah. He spoke to me.” You felt the tears fill your eyes. “He told me they would save you if I left. They said you would be spared from hell, but I had to leave. I had to get away from you.” You let the truth lay in front of him for the first time. 

“The angels? Why?” He was wide-eyed and horrified. 

“I don’t know. They said that if I left, you would be saved. I was so desperate, Dean. I was so scared you were going to die. I didn’t know what to do. So I left. I left like a coward, and I knew the only way you wouldn't come after me was if I broke you.” You breathed. Although it killed you to tell him, there was a sense of relief finally telling the truth after all this time. 

Dean stared at you, his face difficult to read. You let your eyes fall on his lips, plump and slightly agape. You felt his hands tighten around your wrists, and it shot you back to the last time he held you like this. You could hear the soft rain on the window and smell the coffee going cold on the nightstand. The skin of your neck tickled, remembering his hot breath groaning in your ear. Your fingers could practically feel the cheap comforter, his hands holding them down just like they were now. You bit down on your lip as you remembered the way he pushed into you, slow enough to tease but fast enough to make your legs shake. 

“Why didn't you come back after?” He finally asked, breaking you out of your memory.

“Because they lied to me. You still went to hell. How could I ever face you? How could I ever expect you to look me in the eyes again after I abandoned you? I can barely look at myself. I left you, Dean. I loved you so much. You were the air that I breathed. And I just fucking left. I could never ask you to understand.” You explained, your voice sounded wet from the tears. 

“Y/N…” He spoke, his body pressing into yours harder. 

You inhaled sharply, arching your back and allowing your head to loll back on your shoulders. Dean licked his lips, leaving a wet sheen on them. 

“I don't understand.” He said softly. 

“Understand what?”

“Why would they want you to leave? Why would it matter if you were with me or not?” He asked with a furrowed brow. 

“Because we knew you would never say ‘yes’ to Michael if you were clamored on to some chick.” A voice suddenly spoke. 

You and Dean broke apart, both clenching when startled. A man with balding grey hair stood in a black suit, a smile that made your mouth curl sat on his face. 

“Zachariah,” Dean practically growled. 

“Good to see you, Dean.” 

“Wish I could say the same.” 

“Well, now you know the big secret.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and turning down the corners of his mouth. 

“I always knew you were a son of a bitch, but now you’ve gone too far.” Dean stepped toward him, you could feel the hate in his voice. 

“You lied to me! He died anyway!” You screamed, coming to stand next to Dean. 

“No. No. I never lied. I said we would save him from hell, which we did. You simply heard what you wanted.” He said nonchalantly, as if he was describing what he ate for breakfast.

“That’s called manipulation, dick.” You shot back.

“Oh! Fiesty.” He held up his hand, pretending it was a claw. 

“I am going to say this one time.” Dean started, his arms pushed you slightly behind him as he moved toward Zachariah. “If you ever step foot near her again, I am going to rain down a world of hurt on you that you cant even imagine. You do not come near her again, do you understand me? Whatever you want to do to me is fine, but you leave her alone. All this bullshit, Michael, Lucifer, angels, demons, that’s your shit to clean. Not hers! And since Michael still wants to wear me like a fucking sock puppet, I suggest you listen to me and back the fuck off!” Dean thundered. 

You stared with eide eyes as he got closer and closer to the angel. Your breathing quickened and you nervously swallowed. You sat in a silent panic for his safety. 

“I may not have much in this world. Nothing but left overs from my father and his neverending crusade. But I have her. And I will die before I let you or any other winged bastard breathe near her again.” Dean’s voice was unnerving and low. 

“Jeez, give it a rest. When did we put on lifetime?” Zachariah asked without trying to hide his disdain. 

“Make your jokes, but don’t forget that I specialized in torture.” Dean practically whispered. 

Your heart skipped a beat, what? 

“Well, I do not pretend to know about coitus as I find it repulsive, but I have heard make up is the best!” Zachariah said with a gross mocking tone. 

“Don’t you fucking-” 

Zachariah was gone before Dean could finish his sentence. 

“Shit!” Dean yelled. 

His back was still to you. The air in the room was so thick it felt difficult to breathe. Your skin warmed under the tension. Just as you were about to speak, he turned. His face was hard and determined. You both stared at each other for a moment, trying to read the other person's mind. Dean acted first. He practically flew across the room back to you. His hands dug into your hair harshly, pulling your head back as a shocked moan left your mouth. Your mouth opened to his before he even kissed you. All teeth and tongue. Both relinquishing control and fighting for it at the same time. 

You and Dean had shared many kisses in your relationship: passionate, quick, raw, emotional, fast, and slow. This was different. It felt like an ache. It felt familiar and foreign at the same time. He kissed you like the ocean raged when a storm descended upon the land. His lips were out of rhythm and timing, but they still hit exactly where they needed to be. And like the warmed waters fueling the storm, you found yourself trying to grind your pelvis desperately into his, seeking any friction. 

Keeping one hand on the back of your head, he hooked his other around your thigh, yanking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grabbing onto a fistful of his hair for yourself. He groaned into your mouth, twisting his tongue around yours. 

“I missed you so much.” You mumbled against his lips. 

“You’re the only thing I want.” He answered, pushing your back against the wall. 

His head dipped down. You squeezed your thighs around his waist as his teeth nipped at your neck and breasts. Using his hips and the wall to hold you in place, he undid the buttons of your shirt, opening it before taking your breasts in his hands. His thumbs stroked just above your bra while his mouth continued to suck and nip at your neck. He grabbed onto your hips again, his fingers digging into the globes of your ass. He threw you down on the bed, quickly crawling on top of you and reattaching his lips to yours. You undid the button on his jeans, hearing the sharp hiss as you palmed him through his boxers. He grabbed your hand and pulled it out of his pants, grabbing your other hand and pinning both above your head. His mouth found yours again, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip, pulling on it harshly.

“Don’t move.” He commanded. 

He left your hands above your head as his body lowered down yours. Teasing you by keeping his lips just hovering over your skin. His pointer finger dipped below the waist of your jeans, running it across your belly slowly. Your body was almost squirming as the anticipation built within your core. Your fingers twisted together when he opened the button on your jeans and yanked them down your legs. His mouth moved over your thighs, his hot breath fanning your skin. His teeth playfully pulled on your panties. His tongue teased you through the fabric. You lifted your head to look at him. God, you had missed this. That soft brown hair is just asking to be pulled. Those green eyes rolled back in his head as he decided he couldn't wait anymore, yanking your panties off you and taking you into his mouth. His freckled nose scrunched when he knew he had found a particularly good spot. And, of course, that mouth. Those lips and tongue, tasting every part of you. Dean ravaged you. Hooking your legs over his shoulders and lapping at your entrance, sucking and licking your clit. His breath was heavy, and his eyes closed. You were sure no one could paint a more beautiful image than Dean Winchester between your legs. 

Your first orgasm came quickly, taking both of you by surprise. Dean held you down with one forearm across your hips as he continued. Your hands were wrung together. You wanted to touch him so badly. Your body rapidly built up another orgasm. Dean kept you on the edge for this one, extending the pleasure but building the tension. By the time he let you tumble, you were covered in sweat and practically begging him. You couldn’t stand it anymore, and your hands flew to his head, yanking on his hair as your orgasm released throughout your body. He held you through it, moaning around your cries of pleasure. 

He came back to you, face to face. “I’ll let you have that one.” He said with a crooked smile. 

The tone shifted then, and a new reality settled over the two of you. Dean’s eyes softened to your favorite shade of them, the green grass of the first cold morning in fall. Fresh dew lay in a wet blanket over young blades, their mossy color diffused by clouds against the low-hanging sun. 

“You know I never stopped loving you, right?” You asked, running your fingers over his arm. 

“I do now.” He answered, pushing your hair away from your forehead to kiss your hairline. 

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. When you were gone, no matter how hard I tried to deny it or how much I shoved it down, it was always there. You were always my girl.” His voice was thick with need and emotion. 

From that moment on, the night felt different. It was more than a reunion. It was more than hashing out old times. It was a vow. You both knew that marriage was not exactly in the cards for hunters, but this night was as close as the two of you would ever come. Words that should have been exchanged in a ceremony were written on each other's naked flesh with wet tongues and eager lips. Names that should have been signed on a document were inked onto each of your hearts through the whispered pleasure filling the air. And oaths that should have been pledged for all to hear were found in the dilating pupils of your locked eyes. 

Slow and passionate kisses turned heavy and deep as you recommitted yourselves to each other and your relationship. Dean's hands touched every part of you, dipping into all your crevices, tracing every scar and freckle. You tasted him, feeling the thick drag of him through your mouth, holding onto his deep groans of ecstasy. He pushed into you, spreading your legs with his before looking you in the eye as he filled you completely. His perfect rhythm brought you to your peak, grasping at his back and shoulders. You found yourself on top, rolling your hips over his, watching his teeth bite into his tongue to keep himself from crying out. His eyes open, showing his blown-out pupils, all traces of morning dew gone. Dean’s hands pressed into your hips so hard, moving you with him as he neared his own peak. Face to face, his fingers dragging down your back, you both fell together. 

Tangled in limbs and sheets, you let your beating heart slow to an average pace. Dean dreamily traced a pattern over your arm, occasionally kissing your forehead as dawn began to break. You didn’t say it and he didn’t ask, but you were never leaving his side again. Finally feeling safe in the arms of the man you loved, you let your eyes drift closed for a moment. You heard his breathing become slow and even, knowing he was also falling asleep. You smiled, healing yourself in the light of a new day before closing your eyes and sailing into a restful sleep.

Tagging: @thinkinghardhardlythinking @watermelonlipstick

[sweetimpurity]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ day nine!! surprise! I made a few changes to the masterlist and this is a new one! it's a lot more angst so I hope you enjoy! wc: 1.6k ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I thought you went to California…” He scoffs. A look of surprise when he sees you standing there. In this rundown motel room. Rain beating down on the windows like a teasing joke. He shuts the door behind him, running a hand through his hair. His other hand occupied with a cigarette. Between his thumb and pointer finger, shielding the fragile embers from the rain outside with his palm. Lifting it to his mouth and letting it hang from his lip, puffs of gray smoke leaving his nose as he pulls his damp jacket off.

“I thought you quit smoking…” You sigh, your wet jacket still on from the rain. Sitting on the edge of the bed. You don’t plan on staying long. Just long enough. So leaving the jacket on is one less step, one more push to leave. He grins at your words, setting his jacket on the back of a chair, rolling his sleeves up. The ink and markings on his skin, bringing back memories. 

“How can I quit?” He laughs darkly, he’s annoyed, he’s upset. “How can I quit when you rip my heart out and beat it to shit?” He sighs. His grin souring to a scowl. Looking you up and down. “I didn’t come here to talk about that. And I’m still going to Los Angeles I just… I just…” You hum, shaking your head. 

“You just what…?” He steps closer. Getting a better look at you. The way your hair moves from getting wet in the rain. Your cheeks from the cold outside. His eyes trailing down, down your body. To that damn ring on your finger. He frowns, looking away. Taking the last drag and putting it out in the ashtray. “You just wanted to rub it in my face, huh?” 

“No…? Why would you-” 

“That’s what you want, right? You’re gonna go off and play perfect house, perfect family, perfect life, perfect wife… with someone else. And you couldn’t just save me the pain and leave. You had to come back here and shove it in my face.” 

Your heart breaks. Why must he make this so hard? Why is this so hard? “I told you what I needed… what I need… and you can’t give me that. You can’t stop this deathwish you’re hellbent on and I won’t watch you kill yourself or get killed over gang pride!” You exclaim. If he thinks this is hard for himself, he hasn’t thought of you. How this breaks your heart. If he could just try… just try and live a normal life. Not a life of crime and killing. Away from the gangs, away from his position as leader. It’s tearing him apart anyway. You could be so happy. Together. 

“Well this is who I am, baby… this is who I am. I don’t try to change you, why do you try to change me every chance you get?” He questions, raising his long arms up in defeat, letting them fall back to his sides. 

“Because you’re gonna die, Miguel!” You stand up from the bed. Why doesn't he understand? Looking up at his tall height even when you’re standing up to him. A tightness in your throat. A promise of tears soon to follow. “I can’t watch it… it breaks my heart…” Your voice breaks, your eyes stinging. 

His hardened resolve softens. He can’t help it. He should be stronger than this. But you make him weak. He sighs, listening to your broken words. 

“I just came here to… to say that it’s not too late and… you deserve to live and not be looking over your shoulder, that’s all…” Your voice turns to weeping as soon as the words fall out. You’re worried for him. Even if you can’t share a life together. Even though you're leaving tomorrow for something more secure, something safe, you’ll be damned if you let him waste his without even trying to get through to him. 

He stands there quietly. Watching you sniffle and break down. A sight he was convinced he’d never see again. Not after all the tears you’ve already shed. And your departing words the last time he spoke to you.  

“C’mon baby… don’t cry… you don’t need to cry…” He hums softly, taking a few steps forward and trying to find your eyes. As much as he’s angry, he hates to see you hurting even more. “I’ll… I’ll be alright… it’s all gonna be okay…” He whispers, he lies. He won’t be okay. Taking your hands from your face, pulling them to his chest. “It’ll be better if you stay… if you stay with me, babydoll… it’ll all be better…” He whispers. Looking in your eyes when you finally look up at him. Your tears make his heart ache. A spark of hope in his chest at your expression. 

“You give me another chance, doll, I promise… I promise we can- we’ll be safe… I’ll keep you safe and we can get a house- you want a house, right? I’ll get you the biggest house in the city and… and we’ll get married, doll. In that church, the one you grew up in, babe…” He whispers, wiping a tear off your cheek with a swipe of his thumb. “We’ll get married and… and babies, babe. You want babies?" He smiles at the thought. Looking down at you warmly. "We’ll have babies… as many as you want. I’ll give you whatever you want… you want that?” 

Your heart pounds and cracks. Listening to his words, wondering whether you can trust him or not. You’ve got a ring on your finger. A promise for a new life. Away from all this. Far away. With a different man who’s okay. He’s just fine. A gentleman. On track to be a fine father and a fine husband. But will you ever be satisfied? 

“I want you… to want that…” 

You whisper. Swallowing hard and feeling his thumb gently caressing over your cheekbone, his other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close. A tear tickling your skin as it falls. And you watch his eyes flick to the droplet… watching as it dribbles over your cheekbone, down to your jaw. He can’t help himself. 

He leans forward slowly, lips pressing to the tear and kissing it away. Letting his lips ghost over your jaw, your face, pressing his forehead to yours. Your breath hitching and withdrawn from his actions. You were also convinced you’d never be this close to him again. 

“I want you…” He whispers. “I want you… and all the things… all the plans… all the… tears…that come with you, baby.” He manages a small smile, pulling back slightly to look in your eyes. “I can’t let you go, baby… and I don’t care what it takes. I just want you to be happy… and I know that I make you happy... I know I do... that I'm sure of... ” He swallows hard, choking back tears of his own. Looking down at your expression.

You can’t help the soft sobs that wrack through you. Your gaze falling and feeling his grip on you tighten, his hand on your neck and his head tilts, pressing his cheek to yours, humming by your ear. “I've been selfish… I’m sorry… please forgive me. You’re more important than… than anything… and I want us to be safe. I need us to be together.” 

Your arms finally rise to wrap around him. Pressing yourself to his chest. And he reacts, pulling you in tight. His shirt tightening around his biceps and his broad back as he engulfs you in his embrace. Hand on the back of your neck, holding you so safe and secure. Like nothing could ever hurt you again. Not him, never again. His words go right to your aching heart. You’ve never heard him say such words until now, so you’re confident he means them. Or he’s at least fighting for you now. 

“Then you’ll stop this… you’ll stop and… and we’ll figure things out together. For us now…” You whisper into his chest. He finds himself smiling at your words. Your acceptance. Your forgiveness. “Anything, we’ll do it… anywhere you want to go, we’ll go. For you… for us…” He hums. 

“And no more smoking…” You whine, sniffling, pulling your head up and looking up at his face. 

“Yes, ma’am…” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours, tilting his head, lips meeting in a desperate, yearning reunion. His tongue delving into your sweet mouth. Tasting you, sucking on the tip of your tongue, biting down gently on your lips. He can never get enough. Not until he’s dead and buried. 

…

“Mm! Miguel!” You moan in softly fluttering whimpers. Your fingers entwined like your bodies in the sheets. Rain pelting the windows in a constant soothing noise. Thunder rolling overhead. Perfect protection and together at last. The motel alarm clock, red numbers blaring 4:32am right beside your discarded engagement ring. No need for it. No need to force yourself into a lie. Not when you know Miguel will be true to his word. And finally he won’t hide away from the promise of a good life. 

His hips snapping between your quivering thighs, making you gush and squirm. Filling you up and pumping you full, your heels digging into his lower back, shaking legs wrapping around his waist. Moaning his name. Listening to his sweet soft whispers into your ear. Squeezing his hands holding yours so tight. His love and devotion. He won’t waste any more time.

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

[otheredsam]

1x06 skin provides us with so much insight into dean’s perspective he has always been a big weirdo!! and a freak u guys.

SHAPESHIFTER: It’s funny. I kind of understand him. He’s all alone—close to no one. All he wants is for someone to love him. He’s like me. (REBECCA looks very uncomfortable.) You know, everybody needs a little human touch now and then. It’s so hard to be different.

it is fascinating to me that the shapeshifter is used as a foil for dean. because usually we only get parallels between sam and the ‘monsters’ to other him. if sam is both the subject and the other, what is dean? he felt hopeless from the start and his fear of being alone AND his fear of sam being ‘impure’ - these were the biggest catalysts for the main plot. fear not action. and i think that’s why kripke’s s5 ending makes so much sense because dean has to give up this fear of being alone and sam being corrupted.

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me. [backs away]

the biggest difference between him & sam in season 1 is complacency. his submissiveness towards their dad (the OG architect of their life) & ‘roll over & die’ attitude is striking from the beginning and only gets worse.

another thing i missed is how much refuge he seeks in killing and violence right from the start! he finds genuine comfort in it unlike sam. see below

DEAN: I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talking about. You lied to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just... it'll be easier if...

SAM: If I was like you.

DEAN: Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people. But I'll tell you one thing. This whole gig, [takes out gun] it ain't without perks.

DEAN: Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak.

it’s a lil sick but sexy how dean keeps reiterating we’re freaks, we’re so different, it’s us, you only have me and i only have you. there is a bit of possessiveness & an urge to keep sam away from the rest of the world. maybe out of fear of him leaving dean again. it feels like: no one will understand you like i do. which is true in a way. this is that delish subtext they sprinkled.

SAM: Yeah, thanks.

DEAN: Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. (SAM laughs.)

SAM: Yeah, I know you are.

pretty much sums up the entire freak show <3

dean placing his claim on sam and establishing that they are cursed and separate from society/the norm/civilisation

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bedtime Stories | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: healing from a sexual assault, some tasteful smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5344

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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Now that you and the brothers had a working Colt thanks to Bobby and, as much as you hated to admit it, Ruby, the brothers were debating what to do with it. 

“I don't understand, Dean. Why not?” Sam questioned angrily. 

“Because I said so.”

“We got the Colt now!”

“Sam…” Dean warned. 

“We can summon the Crossroads Demon—”

Dean shouted over Sam, “We're not summoning anything—!”

“—pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!” Sam finished, getting louder.

You rubbed your temples, head pounding with each shout.

“We don't even know if that'll work!” Dean roared. 

“Well, then we'll just shoot her! If she dies, then the deal goes away!” Sam yelled. 

“Boys!” You finally shouted, silencing them. “Both of you are going to get a grip, or so help me god, I will do this one on my own; you understand?!”

Neither man responded to you, both staring wordlessly at the road ahead. 

“Sam, the crossroads demons don’t hold the contracts—” you began.

Sam cut you off. “How do you—?!”

“Let me finish!” you snapped. 

Sam quieted again. 

“And Dean has already said that if we fuck with this deal at all, you die.”

“And if we don't fuck with it, Dean dies!”

Dean broke back in. “Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation.”

The brunet scoffed. “Why, because you said so?”

“Yes, because I fucking said so!” Dean asserted. 

“Well, you’re not Dad!”

The two men stared silently at each other. 

“No, but I am the oldest,” Dean finally said fiercely. “And I'm doing what's best. And you're going to let this go, you understand me?”

Sam turned away and looked angrily out the window. 

“Tell me about the psychotic killer,” Dean ordered calmly. “C'mon, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer.”

Sam grabbed a paper from his lap and read monotonously. “Psychotic killer… rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.”

“Any razor sharp teeth or four-inch claws?” you asked. 

“No. But the lunar cycle's right. Look,” Sam sighed, “if it is a werewolf, we don't have long; moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month.”

Dean shrugged. “Two days, no sweat.”

***

That night, when you arrived at the motel in the town you’d be hunting in, you and Dean got a room separate from Sam. The two boys decided they needed some time apart after their argument. 

“How do you know that killing the crossroads demon won’t get rid of my deal?” Dean asked, breaking the silence that had settled over you as the two of you got ready for bed.

“Dean—”

“(Y/N),” he said sternly, turning to face you. “Answer me.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you finished pulling on your— well, Dean’s— t-shirt. 

“Sweetheart, please,” he begged you. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’m not gonna mince my words,” you began. “I was trying to get you out of your deal while I was gone. Y’know, before the Seven Deadlies? I tried to make a deal to get you out of yours. No one would bite.”

“(Y/N), why the fuck would you—”

“Because I love you,” you cut him off. You headed over to him and cupped his cheek in your hand. “And if I could stop you from dying without hurting Sam, I would. I’d trade my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

He kissed your palm, but you could tell he was still upset at the thought of you doing that for him. “Are you still trying?”

You shook your head and removed your hand from his face. “No. I knew you’d never forgive me if I was.”

“Damn right,” Dean replied. He stared down at you intensely, and you couldn’t quite read his expression. 

You searched his eyes desperately. “What am I gonna do without you,” you breathed out before you could think about it. 

Dean leaned down and rested his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of him against you. 

You nuzzled your nose against his and slowly leaned in to kiss him. As soon as your lips connected, Dean wrapped his arms around you and held you against him firmly while you threaded your fingers through his hair.

You could feel Dean encouraging you to jump, and you wound your legs around his waist. He caught you easily and walked you over to the bed. Dean gently laid you back on the pillow, and you kept your ankles crossed behind his back. You tugged greedily on his shirt until he tore it off himself, and he then began pushing your shirt up your body. 

You allowed Dean to remove your shirt and then your bra. He looked to you, eyes hungry but pleading and respectful. “Can I—?” He paused. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, feeling slightly proud of yourself that you were making Dean Winchester get flustered. 

“Words, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Yes. Please touch me,” you begged, arching into him.

He breathed out, almost in relief, and goosebumps formed under his touch as he trailed his fingers down your stomach. Searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation all the way down, he stopped his fingers at your panties. 

“Dean, it’s okay,” you told him. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, staring at you intensely. 

“Dee,” you told him, grabbing his wrist, “it’s okay. I’m okay.” You guided his hand into the waistband of your underwear and allowed him to slip his fingers between your folds.

You took in a sharp breath as he did so, and Dean leaned in to kiss you passionately. He gently bit your lip every once in a while, and you began to palm him through his boxers. He groaned into your mouth, and you couldn’t wait to feel him against you. 

“Dean,” you said between kisses, “Dee, I need you.”

“God, yes,” he groaned, “I need you, too.”

You kissed him feverishly, hands making quick work of his and your underwear while he played with your breasts. Dean sat back on his knees and stroked his cock. 

You looked up at him, somehow both doe-eyed and wantonly, and spread your legs to expose yourself to him. 

“God, (Y/N),” he breathed out. “You are so… beautiful.”

You smiled warmly, instantly reaching out to pull him back down to you. He happily accepted your touch and lined himself up with your vagina.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. 

“Yes. God, yes,” you moaned. 

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, he was inside you. He rolled his hips against yours smoothly, kissing you gently as his thrusts stretched you out deliciously. His thrusts soon became sloppy, and he broke the kiss to reach down to your clit.

“Cum for me,” he commanded gently. 

“Need you to first,” you whined. 

“Nuh-uh,” he replied, quickening the circles he made around your clit. “Now.”

“Dean—!” you moaned, suddenly convulsing with your orgasm. You reached out to him and scratched at his back, begging the orgasm to slow down. It hit you suddenly and rolled in in waves that you couldn’t escape from. You couldn’t tell whether or not you wanted Dean to get off you or hold you through it, and your spasming around him sent Dean into his own orgasm. Ropes of his cum shot into you, causing your own orgasm to intensify. You whined and writhed around, feeling the ecstasy would never end. It became almost painful, and Dean did his best to soothe you through it. He let you guide him to where you needed him to touch you or not touch you, and you were grateful for this rare moment of gentleness from him. 

Still inside you, Dean held you against his chest as your orgasm finally subsided. 

“How was that?” he smirked down at you. 

You playfully shoved him away. 

***

Later that night, still in that same position with Dean— you against his chest with his semi-hard cock inside you— your breathing became so deep that you thought Dean assumed you’d gone to sleep. 

“I love you,” Dean admitted. 

Your heart nearly stopped. You looked up to him, a flurry of emotions swirling inside you. “You do?” 

He nodded. “Thought you were sleeping, honestly, but I’m glad you heard it anyway—”

You cut him off with a deep kiss, hugging him to you. You kissed all over his face, and his boyish giggle was what finally made you stop kissing him. “I love you,” you told him. 

“I know.”

“Oh, my god, you did not just Star Wars me,” you scoffed playfully. 

“Oh, c’mon, you had to know I would,” Dean replied, nudging his nose with yours. 

***

The next day, you and the brothers headed to meet the man who’d barely survived the scuff with the werewolf. When you arrived, the man was apparently expecting you to be the sketch artist. 

Much to the brothers relief, your skill with a pen came in quite handy. However, the person who’d killed his brothers was just… human. Interestingly enough, he also had a Wile E. Coyote tattoo. Quite comically, the situation reminded you of the Three Little Pigs story. 

You said as much to the brothers when you left the hospital.

“(Y/N), that’s fucked up,” Sam remarked. 

“I’m sorry! I know it is! But think about it,” you replied, wincing, “three brothers who work at a construction site? Mauled by a guy with a Wile E. Coyote tattoo?”

“I don’t remember the wolf having a fuckin’ cartoon tattoo, sweetheart,” Dean snorted. 

“Whatever. Just thought it was funny,” you shrugged, shoving Dean’s shoulder. “Anyway, what’d you find out from the doc?”

“Not much,” Dean responded, “they were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report.”

“Lemme guess,” Sam cut him off, “their hearts were missing.”

Dean sighed. “Nope. But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines.”

“Oh, ew,” you grimaced. 

“Yeah; definitely not werewolf behavior.”

“So, what? Demon? Attacker could've been possessed,” the brunet suggested. 

“Yeah, but that guy said the dude stopped halfway through the attack. Why would a demon do that?” you challenged. 

“I think that, uh…” Sam trailed off. “Could've... Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Me, neither,” said Dean. 

***

That night, you and the brothers had gone your separate way for the evening. Dean, of course, was still sharing a room with you. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you,” Dean began, “were you… okay with last night?”

You smiled lopsidedly at him. “Yeah, I was.” You appreciated his concern with hurting you or retraumatizing you. You supposed that was one of the reasons he was so helpful to you through all this, and he was likely the reason you were able to be intimate with someone a little under five months after the attack. Had that atrocity happened to you prior to meeting Dean, you were sure your situation would’ve had a vastly different outcome. 

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and began to apply lotion to your legs sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you and Sam ever gonna talk about your seriously unfinished business?”

“I told him not to bring it up again. So no. And I’d prefer if we didn’t, either,” Dean said sharply. 

“Well, frankly, I don’t give a fuck what you’d prefer. You need to apologize to him,” you told him. 

“Why?” he scoffed. 

“Because I said so,” you stated, throwing the phrase he’d used in his fight with Sam back at him. 

He half-chuckled but was still clearly annoyed.

“See? Not so good of a reason, is it?”

Dean barely gave you time to finish your remark before he was speaking up again. “Why do you even care?” 

“Because I care about you and Sam. And I have to share a car with you two for the foreseeable future. I’d rather you not wanna kill each other until the end of the line,” you jested, putting the jar of lotion on the nightstand next to you. 

Dean lounged against the pillow with his head propped up on the crook of his elbow on the headboard. You shifted yourself to where you were sitting cross-legged next to his hips, facing him. 

“Hey, I don’t wanna keep talking about this every day of our lives till you get dragged to Hell—”

“Good,” he cut you off gruffly, “me neither.”

“—but I’m also not gonna pretend like these discussions aren’t important. I need you to be honest with me and yourself. You are scared of going, and that’s okay—”

“Oh, god—” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, pushing his chin back towards you. “I wasn’t done. But I need you to be honest with me, or this doesn’t work.” You gestured between the two of you as you spoke. “I don’t need you to be tough all the time. I just need you to keep it real with me.”

“What difference does it make? I still go to Hell when this is over anyway,” Dean replied. 

“But maybe you’d be able to enjoy living a little bit more if you’d just let me in,” you said, cupping his cheek. 

Dean thought for a moment before he kissed the inside of your palm. “You’re right,” was all he could say. 

“I know I am,” you smirked. 

He rolled his eyes at you, but there was genuine amusement behind them. 

***

That night, you didn’t get much sleep. You stayed awake listening to the police scanner and stroking Dean’s hair as he slept soundly beside you. The police scanner held the least of your attention between the two, though. This was another one of those memories you’d hold near and dear to your heart when Dean was gone. 

Around five in the morning, the scanner finally caught your attention. Static, frantic ramblings exchanged discussing a woman that had been found staggering around coming from the woods. When deputies went with her back to the scene, they found a house where the woman’s former hiking partner and their attacker, an old woman, lay dead in the kitchen. 

You hated to wake up the man with his arms wrapped around your hips, but you knew you needed to get to the hospital the victim was being rushed to and interview her. 

“Dean,” you said softly, running your hand through his hair. “Dean.”

He hummed against your hip, tightening his hold of you. You smiled but continued to try and wake him. 

“Dean, c’mon.”

“Hmm,” he grumbled, “what time is it?”

“I’m not even gonna tell you, ‘cause you’ll kill me,” you joked, ruffling his hair. 

He lightly shoved your hand away from his head and returned his strong arms to their original positioning around you. 

“Dean! C’mon; we gotta get to the hospital. Somethin’ came in on the scanner,” you told him. 

“Can it wait till seven?” he asked you. 

“No.” You tried to wiggle out of his arms to move to the bathroom. He refused to let go of you, though, despite your protests through giggles. “C’mon, dude. We gotta get goin’. I gotta go get Sammy.”

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled, pressing a kiss to your bare hip. 

Goosebumps formed under his lips, and you took in a sharp breath. “Okay, okay, get off me,” you said, gently pushing his arms away from you. 

***

When you arrived at the hospital, you talked to the witness who said she and her hiking partner had been drugged by an old woman who poisoned a pie she fed them. 

Interestingly enough, she also mentioned seeing a little girl with dark hair and pale skin in the window outside the home. 

Naturally, you and the Winchesters went to investigate the house. 

You took in your wooded surroundings and the strange house sitting in the middle of nowhere. You went into the house with Sam and noted the EMF meter in his hand beeping frantically. 

“(Y/N), I’m thinking you may be right about the whole fairytale thing,” Sam said. 

“Dude, I was kidding—”

“Yeah, but I’m not,” he replied. “A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's Hansel and Gretel. And, like you said, those three brothers arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Like the Grimm Brothers,” you realized. “Sex, violence, cannibalism; a child’s guide to fucked-up folklore.”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Now, it got sanitized over the years; turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories.”

“So, why would the ghost be doing a reenactment?” you wondered aloud. “The creepy girl? Pale skin and dark hair sounds like Snow White.”

“You’re right, it does,” Sam said. “But it’s weird that she’s in the middle of another fairytale. But I’m willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too.”

“Dean’s gonna be thrilled. It’s research time,” you snickered.

Sam grinned at you, and the two of you went outside to inform the other brother of your musings. 

***

However, your research came up empty. There had been very few violent childhood deaths in the area, and none of them involved a girl with black hair and pale skin. 

Dean led you and his brother across the street from the library into the park. 

“You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing?” Dean didn’t give you a chance to respond. “Right again. Zip. zilch, nada. Tell me you've got something good 'cause I've totally wasted the last six hours.”

Sam snorted. “Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s.”

“She got a thing for fairy tales?” Dean questioned.

“Nah, trances. See she'd go into these unconscious states where, uhm, get this, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits,” the younger brother explained.

“A ghost puppet master,” Dean nodded. 

You rolled your eyes. “In layman’s terms, sure.”

“Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolfboy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?” Dean’s brow furrowed. 

The brunet shrugged. “Could be. You know, kinda like uh, uh, spirit hypnosis or somethin'.”

“Trances I get, but fairytale trances? That's bizarre even for us,” Dean sighed. 

You quickly grabbed Dean’s arm to keep him from stepping on a bullfrog sitting in your path, croaking. 

“Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal,” Sam remarked, looking down at the frog.

“Alright, maybe it is fairytales. Totally messed-up fairytales. Wanna kiss the frog, princess?” Dean looked over at you smirking.

“Fuck no,” you grimaced. You turned to see a pumpkin sitting on the porch of a home. “Huh,” you said. 

“Yeah? It's close to Halloween,” Dean shrugged. 

“No, dude, Cinderella,” you continued. “Pumpkin turns into a coach, and the mice become horses.”

Dean chuckled. 

“What?” you asked.

“I dunno, just never pegged you for the fairytale type. You’re a little rough around the edges compared to the Disney princesses.”

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” you joked, “but I was a little girl once; y’know that, right?” You picked the lock on the house and led the brothers inside. 

It was completely quiet, and you and the Winchesters wordlessly decided to split up. 

You moved toward the kitchen, and someone inside apparently heard you. 

“Help! I'm in here!” a voice called. 

“Shh, shh, hey!” you said, rushing into the kitchen. There was a teenage girl handcuffed to the oven. You immediately set to work picking the lock on the cuffs. “It’s okay, I got you,” you told her. 

The girl was crying, and her blonde hair was a complete mess. “You have to help me. She's a lunatic.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

“My step mom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me. Chained me up,” she explained, sniffling.

“Where is she now?” you asked. 

“I don't know.”

You looked up at a shadow behind you to see the little girl with dark hair peeking out from behind the kitchen door. When she noticed you saw her, she turned and left. 

You turned back to the teenager and told her you’d be right back, and she nodded. 

You walked into the living room, and the little girl was gone. 

Discouraged, you turned around to go back to the kitchen. Surprisingly, the girl was standing just behind you. 

“Who are you?” you asked. 

She said nothing, simply looking at you with sad eyes, and then she disappeared again. You looked down where she stood to find a red apple. “Hi, Snow.”

***

You sat on the hood of the Impala next to Dean, who played with the apple. Sam headed up to you with his hands in his pockets. “Paramedics picked up Cinderella,” he said. 

“That's good,” Dean said. He tossed the apple to Sam. 

“So, looks like my Snow White theory checks out,” you noted. 

“Snow White? Ah, I saw that movie. Or the porn version anyway; 'cause there was this wicked stepmother? Woo, she was wicked,” Dean grinned. 

You lightly slapped his shoulder and gave a warning glare. “There is an evil stepmother. And she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple. But the apple doesn’t kill her; she just falls into a deep sleep. So it’s like she’s dead.”

Sam tossed the apple to you, and you took out your knife. You sliced a piece of the apple off, and the apple began to ooze an acid-like fluid into your hand. You threw it to the ground, mumbling, “Gross.”

***

Once back at the hospital, the nurse informed you there were no comatose little girls. All of their comatose patients were either old men or Callie, who was around sixteen years old. 

“Yeah, it's so sad,” the nurse explained. “And poor Dr. Garrison, he just… won't give up on her.”

“Is Callie one of his patients?” Sam asked. 

She shook her head. “No. His daughter.”

Exchanging a brief glance with Sam, you and the Winchesters politely thanked the nurse before heading to Callie’s room. Sadly, you looked on as Dr. Garrison read a book to his daughter. 

Squinting at the book, you were able to make out the book he was reading to her was Little Red Riding Hood.

Dr. Garrison then noticed you were there and stepped outside the room to talk to you. “Detectives. Can I help you?”

“We just... heard that Callie is your daughter,” Dean said.

“And we wanted to say how very sorry we are,” Sam finished. 

Dr. Garrison cleared his throat. “Well, uh. Thank you. If you'll excuse me.”

“Oh, heading this way?” Dean quirked a brow. “We'll walk with you. How long's Callie been like that?”

“We don't mean to intrude,” you clarified. 

“We can't possibly understand how hard it must be for you seeing her like this,” Sam added. 

The doctor sighed. “It's not easy. She's uh, been here since she was eight years old.”

“That's when she was poisoned?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah. Swallowed, uh, bleach,” he explained. “Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, uh, brought her to the ER here and I was on call.”

“Your wife was uh, was that Callie's stepmother?” Dean asked. 

Dr. Garrison stopped walking and looked at Dean strangely. “Actually, yes. How'd you know that?”

The older brother shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“Well, Julie was the only mother that uh, Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year and, uh… it's just my daughter and me now.” He paused for a moment, becoming quite choked up. “She's all I've got left. Um, excuse me. I've gotta get back to work.”

You watched as the doctor moved down the hall, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. 

Sam tapped you to turn you around and led you and Dean back down the hall. 

“Well, you're right. It's Snow White in spades,” Dean said to you. “Yep. Step-mom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive, you think?” 

“Could be like Mischa Barton. Sixth Sense, not the O.C.,” Dean corrected himself.

Sam seemed confused. “What?”

“Hey, you know fairy tales, I know movies,” Dean commented. “She played the pasty ghost. You know the, uh, remember the mom had that thing you know, where you keep the kid sick so you get all the attention?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Huh, could be.”

“So, say all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?”

“And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out.”

“I’d be pretty pissed to if I was sixteen and still having to listen to my dad read me fuckin’ fairytales,” you added. “It's enough to drive anybody nuts.”

“Okay, but how are we gonna stop her?” Sam questioned. “I mean, Callie's stuck here; her father's keeping her body alive.”

“It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones,” Dean mumbled.

“Ya think?” you deadpanned. 

“Coming in!” Someone called from the double doors across the hall from you. You watched as EMTs rushed an old woman in on a stretcher. “Seventy-two year old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia.”

“Is that a bite?” a doctor asked. 

“Looks like she was mauled by a mad dog or, maybe a wolf?”

“What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?” Dean asked rhetorically. 

You answered anyway. “Good ole Little Red.”

***

The three of you hung around asking the EMTs and policemen that had responded to the scene questions after the grandmother had been pronounced dead. You found out from the policemen that the woman had a granddaughter. 

“I’ll stay here,” you told the boys in a hushed voice. “You two go stop the Big Bad Wolf.” You handed the paper with the address of the granddaughter’s home on it over to Dean, who nodded. 

“What about you?” Sam asked. 

“I’m gonna try to stop Callie,” you said. 

Both boys seemed to understand what you meant, even though you weren’t quite sure how to handle this properly yourself. 

You immediately set to work searching the corridors for Dr. Garrison. Finally, you found him. “Hi! I need to speak with you,” you announced, approaching him. 

“Detective. What can I do for you?” he asked. 

“There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s about Callie,” you said sheepishly. 

“My daughter? What about her?” The doctor furrowed his brows at you. 

“What happened to Callie wasn’t an accident,” you explained. “And Callie’s been trying to tell you that.”

“I don’t have time for this. Stay the hell away from me and my daughter.” Dr. Garrison stormed away from you and toward Callie’s room. 

You followed, hot on his heels. “Think about it, man, how’d she get her hands on the bleach? Why would she drink so much of something like that?” You slipped into the room behind the doctor as he reached for the phone on the wall. 

“I’m calling security.”

You clamped your hand over the phone to stop him. “Nope. You’re smart. Think about it. If you don’t listen to me, Callie’s gonna hurt somebody else.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” the doctor cried. 

“You're gonna think I'm crazy,” you sighed, “but just understand me. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit.”

Dr. Garrison’s panic suddenly calmed, and he turned to his daughter’s bed sadly. “So you've seen her too.”

You were shocked. “Wait, you called me a lunatic, and you’ve been seeing her, too?”

“I sensed her,” Dr. Garrison sniffed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Callie. Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never believed it, I thought I was dreaming, I—” 

You shook your head. “Not a dream. She looks like she did when she was eight, right? She’s been trying to talk to you.” Dr. Garrison sighed. “You're not a cop are you?”

You shook your head again, pursing your lips together. 

“Then, who are you?”

“Meh, I know a thing or two about this stuff,” you shrugged. “And I also know that your wife was the one to do this to Callie.”

“And how the hell would you know that?!”

“Because Callie told me,” you replied simply. “What?!” Dr. Garrison exclaimed. “My wife loved Callie. So how is— how is that possible?”

“I don’t know. But it is,” you said. 

He got up from the bed and began to pace. “No. No I— I don't believe you.”

“Look, dude, believe whatever you want. But your daughter’s pissed. And rightfully so. Nobody’s listening to her. Listen to your damn daughter.”

Dr. Garrison took a deep breath, then nodded. “Callie? Callie, it's Daddy,” he called into the room. “It's me, Daddy. Is it true? Mommy did that to you? I–I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Daddy's here. Please honey, is– is there any way that you can tell me?” 

The doctor looked back at you, and you nodded to the space beside him where Callie’s spirit stood.

Dr. Garrison turned, and tears immediately flooded his eyes at the sight of his child. “Is it true?”

Callie’s spirit nodded.

“Oh— I'm so sorry, baby. But listen to me,” Dr. Garrison begged through his tears. “You gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go.” He turned back to the body in the hospital bed. The doctor leaned down to the girl and caressed her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he cried. 

Callie’s monitor flatlined. 

***

That night, as Dean slept soundly in your shared bed, you were sat at the table by the window; the journal in front of you only illuminated by the moonlight. 

You paperclipped the sketch you’d done for the surviving construction worker of the man who’d attacked him and his brothers into your journal next to the spot where you wrote your latest excerpt. 

“As much as I hate to admit it,” you inked, “some part of me believes everything happens for a reason. I’m not big on the whole ‘faith’ thing, but I’ve always thought that. And I can’t help but wonder if Callie’s case is, like, some sort of astral allegory to my situation with Dean. Maybe I’m supposed to let him go. Maybe he was just supposed to be with me for a short time, and I’m supposed to just move on.

“And that fucking sucks. And I can’t accept that. It’s weird; a lot of the cases I work parallel my actual life. And I frequently try to ignore that fact. But this one is really just beating me over the head with possible ‘hidden meaning.’ 

“But then, I think, if everything happens for a reason, and nothing is coincidence, then somebody’s gotta be pulling the strings here, right? Some sort of fucked-up cosmic being is using my life for his twisted entertainment. It’s using Dean going to hell for the sake of a good fucking storyline or something stupid like that. I don’t understand. I thought ‘god’s plan’ was supposed to be good? I thought he had ‘intentions to prosper us, never to harm us’?

“Anyway. I feel like I’ve thoroughly hashed out my feelings on religion too many times before. At this point, I’m completely over the concept of god. If he is real, I hope he fucking chokes.”

You put your pen down when a blinding light abruptly hit the corner of your eye. You opened the curtains a little more to see the Impala beginning to move out of the parking lot. 

Sam had driven you and Dean back from the hospital, and he brought the keys with him to his room. You assumed that was no accident. 

“What are you doing, Samuel,” you muttered, staring after the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[starrywilliams]

baby i’m yours - abby anderson

and i’ll be yours until the stars fall from the sky. yours until the rivers all run dry. in other words, until i die

fem reader x abby anderson

synopsis: abby anderson hates seeing her girlfriend upset, so decides to show you just how much you mean to her.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: bad writing ??, general non-apocalyptic au, smut w a tiny bit of plot, top abby, oral sex (r receiving), fingering, some pet names, overstimulation, slightly insecure reader, not proof read !!

notes: i was gonna send this into someone’s asks but i thought it easier just to write it myself. so if it’s bad , ummm pretend it isn’t. wanted to add abby fucking r with her strap too but decided against it… so lmk if u want a pt 2 or something !!

it all started at a party. the music was loud and you were just a little tipsy, abby the designated driver as usual. she was talking to one of her friends beside you, rambling on about something you’d lost track of a long time ago. you could hear she was getting slightly angry as the conversation progressed, so you grabbed her hand to calm her down, y’know? but she decided to pull away. leaving you stood there embarrassed and feeling extremely awkward.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?” you mumbled seconds later, not staying long enough to hear her response: if there even was one. you cursed when you tried to open the door, finding it was locked. from the smoke filled air and bottle covered surfaces, everywhere felt crowded. more crowded than you deal with right now, so you made your way out onto the, thankfully empty, small terrace that would grant you refuge.

clearing your lungs with a deep inhale, sobering up slightly while looking out into the darkness. she’d dropped your hand. maybe it was the alcohol making you overthink it, but you weren’t THAT drunk. abby always let you hold her hand, she knew you got nervous at these things. so you couldn’t understand why she didn’t this time. was she angry at you? had you done something wrong without realising? this spiral would’ve continued if it hadn’t been for a voice behind you.

“baby, what are you doing out here?” abby asked, voice laced with a slightly worried tone, as she kneeled down in front you. “nothing.” you choked, trying to avoid the tears that had accumulated in your eyes. “thought you said you were going to the bathroom?” she said, putting a hand on your knee. “it was full.”

she pouted, looking you up and down with concern. “d’you wanna go? i won’t mind.” she smiled, pushing your hair behind your ear in an attempt to cheer you up. biting your lip, you nodded, standing up. you walked silently behind her to the car, not really wanting to talk.

abby opened the door for you and held your side as you got inside. you took a deep breath as she walked around to the driver’s seat, knowing she would have questions. she slipped in, putting on her seatbelt and starting the car. abby let the sound of the radio fill the car for a few moments, driving away from loud house out onto the dimly lit street.

after what felt like a lifetime of awkward silence, she turned the dial down. “so you gonna tell me what’s the matter?” she said softly, gripping the wheel tightly as she did. “it’s nothing.” you muttered before looking down to your fumbling hands. “it didn’t seem like nothing.”

“well, it was. okay?” you snapped; voice croaking as you finished. abby frowned, turning to you as you reached the red light. “have i done something?” her voice was low - accusatory - and her eyebrows were furrowed. you looked up to the green light, “go.” she huffed, sticking her tongue into her cheek before nodding to herself. “so i have.” she whispered. “abby-“ you started. “what did i do?”

“it was nothing, i’m just overreacting.” you rambled, quietly thankful you’d reached your street so you could get out of this seemingly tiny car. “no, i must’ve done something. so tell me.” she sounded calm, words slow and sure. but you knew she was the opposite. she parked outside your apartment building, having failed to answer her request, you quickly got out and rushed towards your door, her not far behind you. “i asked you what i did to make you upset. answer me, please.” you pushed the key into the lock, turning it and pressing down on the handle before finally answering. “you dropped my hand.”

“i- what?” abby replied, laughing softly. “knew you’d think i was being stupid.” you whispered, throwing your stuff onto the side as you walked towards the kitchen. “i don’t think you’re being stupid. just tell me when this happened.” you grabbed a glass, “before i said i was going to the bathroom, you were talking to whats-his-face when i tried to hold your hand and you let go like- immediately.” you went on, finishing as the water reached the top of the glass.

“no it wasn’t like that.” she shook her head as you faced her, your furious pout not seeming to approve of her response. “it sure seemed like it.” you hissed, pushing past her towards your bedroom. you could hear her footsteps heavy on the floor behind you. “no, baby stop. sweetheart listen to me.” you pushed the door open, settling the glass down on the nightstand. “okay talk.” you began to undress, wanting to just go to sleep already. you were fully sober now, and very tired.

“i didn’t mean to drop your hand, i was about to get an eyelash off your face- but you pulled away before i could!” you looked up to her, sighing with a mix of relief and adoration for the girl. “oh abs. i’m so dumb.” you said as you stood up. softly smiling, you wrapped your arms around her waist and leant your head against her chest. “you’re not stupid, okay- maybe a little.” she joked, kissing your forehead. “how about i make it up to you?” she whispered in your ear before pressing her hips against yours “yeah, good idea.” you mumbled, slightly breathless.

that’s how you found yourself laid back on the bed with her whispering sweet nothings against your skin. each kiss against your thighs was making your patience disappear more and she could tell. “you sound so pretty like that.” you looked down at her, meeting her darkened eyes. “so fucking desperate for me.” you caught a glimpse of a smile before her tongue delicately made its way through your folds. the noise you made when she reached your clit was borderline pornographic, let’s just hope your neighbors weren’t in tonight.

feeling her tongue swiping back and forth against your needy little clit, your hands reached to her scalp; pulling her hair softly as you pulled her closer. “hands off baby.” you groaned, having to use your hips to get her closer. “abby, fuck.” you whimpered, thighs suddenly tightening around her head. “mhm.” she hummed, looking up to you again. “look at me.” she said against your pussy, moving her head lower once you did. “those fucking eyes.” she mumbled before slowly pushing her tongue into your hole, smirking as she felt it pulse around her. she moved it around slowly, before pulling back out just to thrust it back in again.

then she stopped. deciding to now leaving soft, far too gentle kisses around your lips. close to where you needed, but ever so far. “please don’t stop.” you whispered, screwing your eyes closed as if that would hurry her up. perhaps it worked, as you instantly felt two fingers push roughly inside you. your hips bucked upwards, a loud whine rolling out of your throat. “look so good for me, taking it so well.” she cooed, using her other hand to spread your lips. “your clit’s so swollen baby, want me to take care of it?” abby asked, her hot breath against it making you go crazy. you nodded, not receiving anything in return.

“use your words baby, tell me what you want.” she spoke, slightly mockingly as she dragged out the final word. feeling her large fingers thrusting inside of you relentlessly, you were almost rendered speechless entirely. but you managed to stutter out a “please touch my fucking clit abby.” that had her immediately suckling on it like a starved woman. the added sensation had you quickly getting closer and closer, that knot in your stomach tightening more by the second.

“feel so tight around my fingers, pretty. gonna cum for me?” she said, instantly returning to her assault on your clit while her fingers pressed against that spot inside you that made you see stars. you made some kind of noise to tell her yes before the cord snapped and you were drowning in her. “that’s it, sound so fucking beautiful when you cum.” abby hummed, stretching out the beautiful as her fingers started thrusting even faster. your legs snapped together as you pulled away, but a hand pressed down firmly on your hip, keeping you locked in place.

“you can take it can’t you? i just want you to feel good baby.” she cooed, keeping her pace rapid. “it’s too much.” you cried out, feeling your twitchy clit sting at the continued pressure against your insides. “you can take it.” she said, whether it was to reassure you or simply an order, you didn’t know. but to be honest, you didn’t care. you were gonna take it whether it hurt or not.

“fuckfuckfuck-“ you whined, feeling that knot tighten back up again. but with her fingers fucking into you like that, it felt so, so much more overwhelming. your mind was just chanting abby on repeat, and perhaps your mouth was too - you were too out of it to know.

then it was like a fucking explosion inside you, limbs spasming around her as your mind went foggy. you gripped onto the bed for some kind of relief from the pleasure that was consuming your every cell, but eventually you were just fucking floating. abby pulled her fingers out at some point, before softly licking up the mess you’d made all over your thighs. she left to go and grab a warm cloth, wiping you down before cleaning her face.

abby pulled your underwear back up your legs gently, stroking your hips as she did so. “i’d never drop your hand.” she whispered. you smiled at her, eyes barely open. “maybe you should, if it’ll end like this.” you joked, eliciting a small laugh from her.

she may have never dropped your hand after that, but she did fuck you until you saw stars, that’s for sure.

[s0urw00lf]

I don’t wanna live forever

Part two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Y/n is having a hard time coming to terms with her feelings for the guy she’s supposed to feel nothing more than a friendship with, so instead of confronting those feelings she runs away, which proves to be a mistake for her and him.

Warning: angst, heartbreak, fluff, sad angry Dean because he’s a warning in itself

An: this is my first Dean Winchester fic so i hope it lives up to your expectations. Also this is gonna be a two part series because i got carried away with setting up the plot for this. If you like this flick and the way i write i am taking requests for Sam, dean and cas so feel free to make some. Anywho love ya and i hope you enjoy.

Dean Winchester is the epitome of a girls dream guy. He’s smart, tall, and strong. Not to mention those pretty green eyes that scream ‘walking sex god’ or that cheeky ass smirk he wears when he knows he’s got a girl in his clutch. But thats not what made you fall for him, not the only reason at least. Dean Winchester has been your best friend since you both could walk. Being left to take care of Sammy while your mom and john were out hunting all through your childhood up really sealed your fate, you saw all of his most vulnerable moments and you knew those moments he needed you to break down those walls so he wouldn’t self destruct. But also you saw how much he loved, and how he fought for the people he loved, but he wouldn’t let anyone give that back to him. And thats why you loved him. Because you knew that just like him you’d do anything for him at any moments notice. You’d kill, you’d torture , you’d die If he needed.

So as you sat at a bar sipping on your martini watching dean flirt with the pretty curly headed bartender with a short skirt, your heart felt heavy within your chest and your stomach completely empty despite the large bowl of fries you were sharing with Sam. The feelings that surged through your body weren’t anger, or hatred. It was sadness and longing, knowing that even though you loved everything about that man, even though you knew him better than anyone else. Better than himself. He’d wouldn’t see you how you saw him, and no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t hate him. Not one bit.

“Y’know if you sulk any harder people are gonna mistake you for a grounded teenager” an amused voice spoke from beside you. Your gaze broke from dean and turned to his brother, “shut up Sam” you said nudging his shoulder softly. A smile crossed the younger winchesters face, “he’s just looking for a distraction” he muttered to you, diverting his gaze over to his brother letting a frown overtake his features. Sam knew how utterly in love you and his brother were with each other, i mean anyone could see it. Except for some reason you two.

“Yeah well sleeping with a random person isn’t exactly what id call ‘a distraction’” you said bitterly, immediately feeling bad even though dean was nowhere around to hear. Sam shook his head at just how blind you were, “ i just don’t understand why he wont open up to us.” You said trying to keep your voice steady, stirring your drink around with your straw “He knows that we know how much loosing john is affecting him. Hell he’s not the only one fucking dealing. We all lost” she said trying not to let the tears forming in her eyes fall. Sam sighed “thats just how he is. It’s how he’s always been. The strong one” he said looking at his friend solemnly.

“Well it’s bullshit and he knows it” you said slamming your hands down on the table as you stood up. “Im going back to the motel” you muttered grabbing you coat from the back of your chair and trying to keep your tears at bay. Sam grabbed your wrist stopping you. “You want me to walk you?” He offered softly. “No it’s fine, i’m fine. I just need some time alone if thats okay” you said. Sam nodded letting go of your wrist, you gave him a hug and a kiss on the forehead, a habit you’d formed when he was only two years old. And with that you exited the bar, not sparing a look in deans direction. You couldn’t stomach it. What you missed was the longing and worried look dean sent you as he weakly excused himself, and made his way over to Sam and began his interrogation.

While you walked your brain was racked with all of these intense emotions. But the most prominent thought was how much it was killing you. Given you’d known that Dean wasn’t the relationship type, i mean the ratio of his hookups to relationships says enough in itself. But you’d grown up together, you knew how much dean craved to be held and loved by a woman, and you were hoping by chance he’d let it be you. But as the months turned into years and years turned into a decade, you were tired. Tired of loving someone who only thought of you as a friend. Tired of loving someone who would shamelessly flirt with other women in front of you, no matter how deeply in love you showed him you were.

By time you reached the motel you’d had your mind made up, you’d apologize to the boys later but you had to go. And you knew that if you told them in person Sam’s puppy dog eyes that always worked and deans broken expression would’ve coaxed you back in. So there you are packing your bags (not that you had much to pack) and hopping into a car you’d managed to break into and Hotwire and began your way to Bobby’s.

When you arrived at Bobby’s he was shocked to see you but ultimately let you in. “Y’look like shit” he greeted looking you up in down taking in your puffy eyes. You laughed “good to see you too”. Bobby looked behind you, curiosity etched into his face “where are the other two idjits?” He asked. Your once happy expression dropped, replaced by a guilty look and you avoided his eyes as best you could. Bobby took a step forward, now concerned “peanut where are the boys” he asked a little more demanding this time. Tears pooled your eyes for what felt like the 100th time that day. “I- i left them in Wyoming” your voice broke as tears began to cascade down your face. “I didn’t tell them, they would’ve convinced me not to go” you explained. Bobby stared at the girl not sure what to do about the girl he saw as a daughter crying so freely in front of him. “Why’d ya leave? Somethin’ happen?” He asked leading you to the couch and taking a seat himself.

You shook your head “no… no nothing happened. I just couldn’t watch it anymore.” You muttered playing with your fingers in your lap trying to put your feelings into words. Bobby watched intently, and he swore he could almost see the cloud of thoughts above your head. It took about five seconds for it to click. Dean. “S’this ‘bout dean?” He leaned forward. You hesitated, finally looking up to meet them and eyes before you nodded. “It was okay before, i mean I’ve had feelings for him since we were 14 so i learned to tune it out mostly. But as we get older its just go hard, i mean I’m 26 now and I’ve seen him during relationships and hookups and its not effected me until now.” You explained, Bobby didn’t say anything, knowing that if he said the wrong thing you’d probably run up to your designated room and act like the conversation never happened.

“i think because i realized just how far id go for him, and with the way things are heating up that flame seems to grow more and more every hunt. But he doesn’t see it, he doesn’t see the raw and utter devotion i hold for him. He doesn’t see how i run off every guy because i know they wont be like him. He doesn’t see how much it hurts me to see him happy with someone else, even if it’s just for a night. And it hurts Bobby, it hurts like hell to love someone who only sees you as his best friend that much” you finished. By that point the tears were streaming down your face and he could hear the heartbreak in your voice. Bobby stood up trying to keep his own tears at bay as he watched the young girl break down in front of him, he grabbed you by your wrist pulling you into a bone crushing hug as you sobbed into his shirt. The two of you stood like that until your sobs subsided, leaving you with sniffles every few seconds.

Bobby pulled away and grabbed your face “you are a smart, strong, beautiful young lady. And after all you’ve been through you deserve all the love in the world, and if dean can’t see that then he’s more of an idjit than i thought” he joked. A small laugh passed your lips and suddenly the need for sleep hit you like a ton of bricks. Bobby seemed to take notice because he sent you on your way upstairs to your room and you made no effort to fight sleep any longer.

just downstairs Bobby pulled out his phone that saw tht he had 14 missed callers from Sam and 27 from dean. He calculated how angry you’d be at him for making the decision he was about to but he’d deal with your anger over heartbreak any day. So he pressed the call back button and listened to the dial tone until deans voice replaced the noise

“Is she with you” he asked urgently, Bobby noted the sound of deans engine in the background as well as Sam asking if it was Bobby that called.

“Yeah she’s here, and you’d better have a damn good excuse for her showing up the way she did” Bobby said in an authoritative tone.

“I’m not 100% sure but i have a theory” dean replied with a distracted tone. “I don’t care what you do or don’t have. You get here and you fix it you understand boy?” “Yes sir” dean answered. Bobby then hung up, dean knew he was in deep shit if he couldn’t make things right with you