#goodbye i’m indecisive

[rafeandonlyrafe]

tatted

words: 1k

warnings: established relationship, husband!rafe, tattoos

“mmm, good morning wifey.” rafe pulls you in closer to him, legs tangled together under the blanket.

“i’ll never get sick of hearing you call me that.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes chest as you snuggle into him, the morning light illuminating the room.

you’re both still on vacation mode, having just gotten back from your honeymoon two days ago. “i wish i didn’t have to get up, but i’ve got an appointment, baby.” “wait, what?” you whine, picking your head up. “you didn’t say anything about a doctors appointment.” your bottom lip pouts out, making rafe lean forward to kiss the frown off your face. 

“don’t worry, we will spend all day together as soon as i get back.” rafe slides himself out from underneath you, quickly heading to the closet to get dressed. he waited as long as possible to get out of bed, not wanting to part from you, but now having to rush out the door.

“mmm, i’ll probably stay in bed all day.” your body was still on maldives times, not even bothering to readjust to being back in the outer banks.

“perfect.” rafe leans over the bed, giving a kiss goodbye. “no need for my wife to even lift a finger.”

you smile at rafe, cupping his jaw to give him a firm kiss. “come home soon, i miss you already hubby.” 

--

“that was a long doctors appointment.” you frown as rafe reenters the house. you eventually dragged yourself out of bed, taking a shower and eating what you considered breakfast despite it being past noon.

“you know, darling” rafe says as he toes his shoes off, leaving them in the foyer. “i just said appointment, nothing about doctors.”

“what other type of appointments are there?” your brow furrows together as rafe joins you on the couch.

“tattoo.” rafe says with a shrug, making your eyes widen.

“you-you got a tattoo?” 

rafe raises his left hand. you finally realize he has a clear wrap covering his fingers. you take his hand gently in yours, looking through the film at the first letter of your name, complimented by a small heart on his ring finger.

“i’ll put the ring back on once it’s healed, but just in case i ever have to take it off, i need everyone to know that i’m still yours.” rafe says, waiting for your reaction.

“i love you.” you finally manage to get out, melting into rafe, making sure not to press against his hand as the red skin heals.

--

“i’ve got something for you baby!” rafe calls out, smiling as you skip into the kitchen.

“what is it?” you question, tilting your head to the side, expecting rafe to be holding something in his arms, but instead he lifts his loose sleeve, revealing fresh ink on his inner bicep. 

“whats it say?” you quickly move closer to read the script, eyes filling with tears when you realize that rafes newest tattoo is your wedding vows.

“oh.” you cover your mouth. “rafey, this is so sweet. i love it.” you press your lips against his. rafe clearly saw your reaction to the first tattoo, the way your eyes tracked over it whenever he moved his hands, the way you were practically begging to be fingered with just his tattooed finger, watching it disappear inside of you, the cold press of his ring against your cunt.

“love having reminders of the best day of my life on my body.” rafe never viewed himself as a tattoo guy, seeing himself as too indecisive, but his mind quickly changed when he realized they could all be dedicated to you, the one constant, the one steady thing in his life.

--

“i’m thinking about getting another tattoo.” rafe hums. its been a couple months and the script on his forearm is now fully healed. 

“really?” you hum. “what are you thinking, my name on your dick?” you joke, but rafe still cringes thinking about the needle dragging over his sensitive skin.

“definitely not. i was thinking your eyes on the back of my neck.” rafe turns, rubbing his hand over the area he was thinking.

“wouldn’t that hurt a lot?” you ask with a pout, but rafe just shrugs.

he makes an appointment the very same day, looking through all the pictures he has saved of you until he finds the perfect one. you’re smiling at him on the other side of the table on your two year anniversary of dating. 

he shows it off to you a week later, and you’re surprised how much you like it, kissing down his spine when you help him take his shirt off before looking at yourself in the eyes, but in tattoo form.

--

rafe won’t admit it to you, but he’s addicted to getting tattoos, wanting to cover his body in everything and anything relating to you. he does end up getting a few others, mostly to fill up what he feels are blankspots, a smattering of patchwork tattoos covering his body, along with a few more dedicated to you.

“rafey?” you call to him as he comes home, his hand now wrapped in clear plastic. 

“hey baby.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you eye the wrap until rafe turns his hand to reveal that he has the word married across the side, yet another reminder of your union.

“i was actually thinking…” you mumble before trailing off, not restarting your sentence until rafe nods at you to continue, looking at you expectantly. “i was actually thinking of getting a tattoo myself. just the letter r on my ring finger. to match yours.” 

you twist your ring on your hand shyly, not sure if rafe would like the idea of you getting tattoos. you’ve never shown any interest in getting them yourself, but you’ve had to take your ring off enough times to swim or wash dishes and don’t want to be without that reminder of rafe even for a short amount of time.

rafes smile stretches across his cheeks. “i thought you’d never ask, wifey.”

rafe sets an appointment for you with his favorite tattooer before you can second guess yourself.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie

[aboutcustardcreams]

Until next time

Agathario x reader

The scene in the forest where Agatha delivered the baby is living in my head rent free and I just couldn't resist the urge to write an os about it. Rewrite, actually. It's my first Agatha's fic, so I'm pretty excited. Hope you guys like it <3

warning: angst, a touch of fluff

next chapter (time skip)

The baby’s soft cries echoed in the forest, as a reminder that a life has just begun, tender and innocent. Agatha was perched by a tree, only wrapped in a light and crumbled vest. Her cloak dropped somewhere a few feet away. The sweat and the pressure at her lower abdomen finally subsided, making her feel like she could breathe properly again. There was blood between her legs, staining her inner thighs, flooding and then drying out to her knees. Everything kind of hurt, her eyes were heavy, but her senses stayed alert. 

“Move,” the Green Witch muttered in a placid order. 

You looked into her eyes, slowly shaking your head, as you stood in front of Agatha, shielding her and the baby, “No.”

The witch felt a wave of relief wash over her when she heard your simple, yet categorical answer. She was in no condition to fight against Rio on this, despite the fire in her eyes and the weak magic already tingling her digits. 

Rio sighed, “we aren’t doing this. You promised–”

“I know what I did,” you interjected, closing your hands into fists, “But I changed my mind. I am allowed to change my mind,” you pointed out, voice thick with emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to a child you didn’t even hold in your arms yet. “I-I can’t let you take him,” turning around, your eyes focused on the baby’s tiny head peeking out of the little blanket Agatha wrapped him in. “I mean, he’s innocent. It can’t be his time…”

“My loves–” 

“Just let him live,” Agatha interjected, her voice both exhausted and desperate. She never felt so scared before, “Please, don’t take him from me.” 

When he clasped his tiny hands in her long wavy hair, her lips brushed against his head, “I love you,” she smiled, rocking him ever so gently, “I love you so much.”

Your heart melted at the sight before your eyes. Rio felt a slight indecision tugging at her chest. She never thought the first time she would hold her son would be to carry him in the afterlife. It felt cruel. It was cruel. But he was sick, he could feel his disease, hovering like a shadow around him. 

“I’m not giving up. Not yet,” you insisted. 

“You talk as if I didn’t wish for him to live,” Rio retorted in disbelief. 

“Oh, spare us, Rio!” Agatha snapped. “You’re the Green Witch, it’s not like you’ve got no power at your disposal. And yet you’re choosing the easy way.”

Rio couldn’t believe her ears. “The easy way you say? Are you nuts? He is my son too, Agatha!”

You frowned at their bickering. Last thing you wanted was to indulge in this fight. This moment was supposed to bring joy to your lives. A child was born, your child for fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t you three be happy about it? Why couldn’t you cherish the moment? He was sick, but you could still try to save him. Work together to make it possible. You, Agatha and Rio weren’t common witches after all, and if there was someone able to find a loophole, it would be you. 

“Then start acting more like a mother,” Agatha retorted, voice dropping in a whisper. 

“It’s not my fault I’ve got responsibilities, Agatha. I never asked to be like this,” Rio’s voice wavered a bit, her heart thumping in her chest with painful insistence. 

“My loves, please we shouldn’t–”

The sound of Agatha’s mocking laughter prevented you from finishing off that sentence. “What about the responsibilities towards our son? He should come first.” 

“Our son is sick, and in order for him to live, many will have to die. It will cause absolute chaos.”

“So be it. All I care about is my son.” Her icy blue eyes sparkling dangerously as she said those words with force and a bit of selfishness. 

You considered Rio’s words; a bunch of conflicted emotions passed through you. Rio wouldn’t say those things if she knew there was another way out of this. But maybe if she couldn’t find it, you could, if only you were granted more time to figure it out. 

“If you take him, I’ll hate you forever,” she insisted rather calmly now. 

“Agatha…”

Color drained from your face at those words. You knew she didn’t mean that. She couldn’t. When a muffled sound slipped from Rio’s lips, a mixture between a choked sob and a scoff, you drew closer to her, your hands immediately finding her cheeks. You weren’t supposed to pick sides. You were a family, and it should stay like that. 

“She doesn’t mean it,” you said both softly and firmly, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. She rolled her eyes and you took a firmer grip on her face, so that she would focus on your eyes, “Rio, listen to me, she doesn’t–”

“I do.” Agatha deadpanned, cutting you off.  

You hissed, “Quiet, Agatha.” 

Rio let out a quiet humorless chuckle, when the other witch grumbled something under her breath. 

“We are just scared, my love. We want this child to live, we need him to, do you understand that?” 

When your voice croaked slightly, her hands tangled in your hair and pulled you closer to her, “I know, baby. I know,” she cooed, getting lost in those wet lashes of yours.

You swallowed thickly, “I don’t want to say goodbye.” 

She leaned in and brushed her lips right under your eye, her magic immediately mingling with yours. Your eyelids fluttered close and you let out a faint mewl. 

“I can only offer time,” she said, once she pulled away, so that she could meet both yours and Agatha’s eyes.

You arched an eyebrow confusedly, “what does it mean?”

“How much time?” Asked Agatha. 

She shrugged, as if she didn’t know or she couldn’t really say. Her behavior only served the purpose of making you more nervous. Crossing your arms over your chest, you knew that you’d have to use this time to master your own powers. To make sure that whenever Rio intended on collecting your son’s soul, you’d be ready to fight. Not her of course, but the process of Death itself. You were a necromancer witch, whose powers were completely opposite to Rio’s. While her job was to keep order between life and death, your powers could easily break that balance if you wanted to. Meaning that you could resurrect life forms.

“You know I’ll still try when the time comes, don’t you?”

Rio looked at you and despite your words, she smiled, “I know, love. Thought I’d hate you if you decided to interfere, but honestly, I hope you win.” 

It was your turn to crack a smile in her direction. “It’s not a competition, Rio. All I want is to keep our child alive.” 

She hummed, without voicing her concerns out loud, not wanting to add more to yours and Agatha’s shoulders, “You two will make a good job.”

You and Agatha exchanged a confused look, “you sound like you’re leaving us behind,” she trailed off. 

When Rio averted her eyes, lips pressed in a thin line, you were sure you felt your heart shatter. 

“No, she’s not-” you looked at Agatha, hoping to have got it all wrong. But when you spotted tears welling up in her eyes, you realized the truth. 

“Rio, please, don’t do this–”

“I must. I can’t be seen around him,” her tone was sad, yet you could still feel the love filling each word. You kept shaking your head in denial. “Might be difficult to believe but there are women above me I respond to.” 

“The Fates have no power if you don’t do your part,” Agatha pointed out, hoping to be right.

Rio smacked her lips in return. “It’s not that simple. Atropos, the eldest of the three, could give me a really hard time if I disobey.” 

You clenched your jaw at her words. The thought of handing your son’s life in the hands of those crones made absolutely no sense to you. They shouldn’t be entitled to take the life of an innocent just like that. You were a necromancer witch, meaning that you could change things. For a long time you buried that part of yourself within you, because of the things you’ve been told all your life. Interfering with the natural order of the things was wrong; your power was an abomination, but at that moment, all those warnings sounded like bullshit. 

Rio sensed your distress, her fingers brushed yours, “I’ll keep him hidden for as long as I can.” 

Then she turned to Agatha and pointed at the baby in the silent, almost timid request to approach him. She still had to see him properly after all. Agatha nodded and moved the child so that he would face her, tucking a bit of the blanket underneath his chin to better expose his tiny face. 

Rio brushed a strand of Agatha’s hair first, “you did amazing, my love,” she praised her, causing a light brush on the witch’s cheeks. She couldn’t quite believe she, you three created such a beautiful baby boy from scratch. 

“Hi” she cooed, now focusing on the newborn. You leaned against the tree, the same tree Agatha was perched by, and looked from above the sweet interaction going on. Rio’s fingertips grazed over his tiny, perfect nose. “I can’t promise you a life devoid of challenges and pain, but I confide in your mothers to always make sure you’re happy and loved,” she lifted her eyes to meet yours and Agatha’s. A watery smile tugged at her lips, “And trust me, you’re so so loved already, little one.” 

You wiped the corners of your eyes and so did Agatha. 

“We should name him Nicholas,” she said after a moment of contemplation.  

Knowing the meaning of the name, you felt like you couldn’t agree more on it, “Nicholas Scratch,” you added, “cause we made him from scratch.” 

Rio turned towards you, while her fingers played with the baby’s tender little hands. “That’s perfect, my love. Isn’t it, Agatha?”

Agatha swallowed thickly, already mourning the loss of Rio, despite her being still there. She nodded, and then she tangled a hand in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer to her face. For a moment she only leaned against her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent of flowers. Then the Green Witch took the initiative and placed her lips on top of hers, savoring with extreme gentleness, the plumpiness of Agatha’s. You ran a hand in Agatha’s hair, fingers stroking her scalp to let her feel your presence too, while your eyes darted on Rio. When Agatha let out a choked sob in Rio’s mouth, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short time, the other hushed her softly, “it’s going to be okay.”

Neither you nor Agatha were sure about it, but you had no other choice than to believe her. 

“Take care of your moms, Nicky,” she later added, placing one last kiss on his forehead and then on Agatha’s. 

Once she stood up again, she focused her attention on you. In an ideal world, you’d be her enemy, because of the powers you possessed. And yet, against all the odds, you became her lover, one of the most important persons in her life. 

“Don’t be sad…”

You nibbled on your inner cheek so hard you drew blood. With your arms crossed over your chest, you struggled to spill a single word because you didn’t trust your voice at the moment. Your entire body was shaking on the inside. Agatha never saw you look so fragile before. It felt like a stab in her chest to witness her family fall apart like that. 

“You’re asking too much of me,” you kept your eyes down, focusing on the tip of your boots. 

“Nena, look at me,” Rio tried to meet your eyes, but you purposefully kept it down, shaking it stubbornly and hopelessly. She smiled, feigning hurt in her tone as she continued, “You wouldn’t let me go without a proper kiss now, would you?” 

Despite your best efforts, you let out a small watery chuckle at her playful teasing, “I hate that you’re doing this.”

“It’s for Nicky…” She said simply. 

Agatha buried her face in the baby’s naked shoulder, finding comfort in his pure and unique scent. 

“And I am sorry,” when you finally met her eyes, Rio cupped your cheeks, “so sorry you don’t get to be his mother. It’s your right to be.”

But Rio’s lips curled into a reassuring smile, despite her sadness. “Don’t be. I’ll get my turn eventually…  and for now, I’ll be his–”

“Please, don’t say shadow,” you muttered, and that elicited a small chuckle out of the Green Witch. If you turned around you’d see Agatha’s lips stretch into a smile too. 

“Guardian, then.”

You hummed and licked your lips, tasting the saltiness of your own tears in your mouth. 

“Now come here, I waited enough–” 

The witch pulled you closer with ease. Your body crashed into hers but it was okay because she was ready to hold you. 

Agatha could see Rio’s face as she hugged you. She spotted a single tear slip down her eye and her stomach lurched. When you two pulled away, Rio took a few steps back, pulling the green cloak over her head. She lingered a few seconds to memorize the scene before her. You dropped on your knees and landed next to Agatha. Her head immediately lolled on your shoulder, and you turned yours to place your lips in her hair. 

Rio waved softly, then blew a kiss to each of you, “Nos vemos, mis amores.” 

You and Agatha nodded quietly, watching the Green Witch disappear before your eyes. Agatha let out a silent sob when she did; your arms immediately wrapped around her and the baby in a protective embrace. 

“We will be fine, Aggs.” 

When Agatha met your gaze, eyes full of hope and vulnerability, you took a mental vow to protect her and Nicky whatever the cost. 

“Yeah,” she echoed with a smile you immediately reciprocated. She closed her eyes when you leaned in to brush your lips against her still clammy forehead. 

When the baby started crying again, you two pulled away and focused your attention on Nicky. He looked rather pale for your liking, a little warm too. You knew what he needed and so did Agatha. You placed a tender kiss on his cheek, Agatha’s lips curling into a soft smile, while you did. Then you stood, hands on your hips, eyes roaming around your surroundings like a predator looking for its prey. You didn’t want to do this, but you were just a mother trying to keep your son alive. 

When Agatha attempted to get up, you interjected, “stay here for now. Let me do the rest.”

Her expression shifted from confusion to worry, “You shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“Agatha,” you merely rolled your eyes at that, “You just had our baby, I think it’s not the end of the world if you sit this one out,” your voice laced with a hint of playfulness despite the things you had to do. It’s not that you never killed before, cause you did. Not in cold blood though. You forced yourself into believing that it wouldn’t be much different. Once a wise person told you, a witch must do anything in her power to survive and there’s no shame in that. You were looking at her now, as her attention remained fixed on you. 

“Be careful,” it was supposed to sound like an order, but the softness in her eyes betrayed her. 

You chuckled lightly, “I always am,” you concluded, pulling the cloak up over your head. 

[frostbitebakery]

Nutshell.

“Let’s put you out of your misery,” Doom says, checking the charge on his blasters while keeping an eye on the stray droid crawling towards an abandoned E-5 rifle.

.

“You’re mine,” Doom grits out, gets his fingers around the leg of the droid making for General Tiplar. He pulls, rolls. The droid is on his chest and he clamps an arm around it, sinks his knife into its neck. Wipes the blood out of his eyes.

.

“I need answers,” Doom says, arms crossed so he doesn’t try to strangle the holo. “See that you get them.”

“I will get them,” Rex promises, voice stoic to resemble a Commander’s.

Doom doesn’t snort but it’s a close call.

“I’m sorry for your lo—“

He flicks the comm off. He doesn’t have the capacity for niceties.

Tiplee is slowly finishing the transport box for her sister. “We fought a lot growing up,” she says. “We were in separate crèche clans even.”

His jaw ticks under his bucket.

“We only grew close once we were both adults. People are in motion, always. In body, in spirit. Sometimes you are only meant to meet at later points in your life even if you’ve known each other since you were born.” She strokes a careful hand over Tiplar’s forehead. “I will let you say your goodbyes.”

Doom steps up to the box once Tiplee is gone.

Tiplar hasn’t gone grey yet. There’s a furrow burnt in her brows, the confusion over a clone shooting her carrying her to death.

“I will watch over her,” he states. Promises don’t mean anything in war. So he doesn’t promise. His heart skips a beat. He was meant to watch over Tiplar as well.

.

“Botany,” he slurs out, clinks his cup to Tiplee’s when she holds hers up. “I love sunshine. And plants. There’s so many!”

“I’m gonna,” she hiccups, booze sloshing over the rim of her cup when she points at him, “I’m gonna sneak you into the gardens in the Temple and show you the strawberry patch.”

“Sneak?” He thought everything in the Triple Zero Temple is free to roam for all Jedi.

“Totally,” Tiplee agrees with an enthusiastic nod and he realizes he’s spoken aloud. “But sneaking is funnierer— funner— funyun?”

He nods right back. “Funyun sounds right.”

.

“What do you mean, poisoned?” Doom asks. According to survival sim training, the strawberries look pretty unpoisoned.

Tiplee holds up a berry, turns it around a bit. “The Dark is ever growing. Spreading throughout the Galaxy, into the earth of every planet. It has changed the very matter of things.” She smiles up at him. “I remember them sweeter.”

.

“I will help your strawberries be the best they can be, I— promise.” He wretches the word out of himself. Pulls and pulls until it’s off his tongue and out in the open. “Hold on until then, yes?”

Tiplee smiles at him, taps her thumb against his temple. “Doom, you have found a place where you feel you are meant to be. It will be alright even if my time has come.”

.

“Uhm,” he says. Blinks. Swallows.

Maxir leans back, hands disappearing into the robe sleeves. “I’ve read this wrong?”

Probably not? “I don’t know,” he almost says until instinct takes over to not show indecisiveness. “Yes.”

Maxir’s face colors. He doesn’t tend to get cute blush spots high on his cheeks but rather an all consuming flush that looks close to blistering. “I’m sorry. I misjudged. It will not happen again.”

Jedi are so graceful in their apologies, Doom has learned. It’s charming.

He holds up a ripe non-perfect strawberry. “You look like this.”

“I beg your pardon—“

.

“You’re safe,” Doom gasps, wildly looking at Maxir’s frozen figure. “You’re safe.”

“Come here. Sit down.”

The calm authority in Maxir’s voice has him on his feet and back on the ground before he knows it.

“You are safe,” Maxir reassures him for whatever reason, filling Doom’s spotty vision and leaving room for not much else. “May I touch you?”

It’s a new helper droid. Gangly limbs for reaching deep into the foliage without damaging it. Looking like a B-1. The clippers looking like a blaster.

Its head lies halfway across another crop’s field. The body stabbed with its own limbs and the clippers.

“You are safe.”

Doom doesn’t believe him yet.

.

“I don’t recognize you anymore,” Doom says to his reflection.

There’s laughter lines around his eyes, his mouth. He has freckles from the sun. Permanent dirt under his nails he recognizes as dirt, not blood. His body is covered in flowers.

Last night he met up with the last of the 962nd and Master Tiplee. Six, Mimic, and a few others had helped him haul around the huge crates of produce into the AgriCorps’ building and kitchen.

They’d blasted each other’s asses while peeling, tasting, cooking, and fighting over seasoning. They fell asleep under the stars, occupying chairs and hammocks dotting the terraces. Tiplee had drooled on his shoulder, the tips of her fingers still red with strawberry juice.

“I don’t recognize you anymore.”

“Mrnng,” Maxir mumbles, slowly shuffling his way past Doom to the shower.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Doom says to his reflection.

.

“No,” Doom murmurs, wrings his shoulder against the doorframe to Maxir’s office.

The desk is cluttered with data pads and flimsiwork bearing the AgriCorps seal. Analyzing crop conditions and rotations has taken up most of what is left of their day after tending to the fields and labs.

Maxir looks at him over his glasses before pushing them up, ruffling the short hair just under one of the horns. “No? I surely thought there was caf left…”

Doom pushes himself away from the door, takes the three steps to the desk before sitting down on a free-ish spot. “No, you didn’t read it wrong,” he non-explains. “Also, for safety reasons I disposed of the last of the caf.”

Maxir glances at the clock above the desk. “It’s been five hours. The sludge level must still be within reason.”

Doom blinks blandly at him.

Maxir blinks back before it visibly clicks. “Oh!” He buffs the back of his hand against Doom’s thigh. “I told you I’m nearly always right. Also,” he parrots back with a mischievous grin, “the fact we’ve kissed and held hands and you let me dote on you—“

“Excessively.”

“Excessively,” Maxir agrees. “I broke all constraints when I bought you last meal that one time.”

Doom pushes Maxir away from him by way of the rolling chair he’s sitting in while Maxir recalls in detail and with a lot of hand gestures how Doom had gracefully accepted being cared for.

“Or when you let me clean all the petri dishes by myself,” Maxir says excitedly, seat slowly spinning in a circle. “You were snoring so adorably on the lab bench.”

“I regret meeting you.”

“Mimir shoo for half the night cycle!” The chair slowly rotates back towards Doom. Maxir’s eyes soften. “I, for one, am very glad we met when we did.”

WIP and backstory

[b00tyliciousbabe]

gingerbread

himbo bf x male reader

summary: spending time with your boyfriend and his family for the holidays. some fluff, lil angst, bad jokes (i apologise in advance), and minimal smut of course.

notes: merry chrysler! hope y’all pretty people are doing amazing. notoriously indecisive in true bootylicious fashion, i settled on one of my fave typa men - gentle giant himbos. think danny wheeler from baby daddy. now, i would never call my men dumb, but always be saying real stupid things. there’s a specific kind of wonder that you can see in their eyes…i’m whipped.

disclaimer: i also tried to keep it as open to as many tastes as possible, so a lot of who he is, you can do create yourself. but i had to make him a bit of a redhead, they too fine.

y’all better gass me because the way i wrote this 3 hours before the end of xmas day, enjoy babies <3

saved in his phone as gingerbread - he’s a ginger, and you get bred xx

you always loved spending time with your boyfriend’s family, almost as much as they loved you. his mother was the first to catch Y/N fever, mostly because you reminded her of herself and it was a relief to know that someone could handle her son’s antics . then it was his brothers, they loved how mellow you made him, as if all of his struggles melted away when you waltzed into his life. they felt like your guardians, wanting to protect you because they knew how much you meant to their baby brother. and his sisters…they’re lowkey your best friends. when you first met, y’all got on so well with one another bonding over fashion, pop culture, and weirdly philosophy.

his dad liked you as a person, believing you were a kind soul, but not the person for his son, because of how different you two were. they were a quiet luxury kinda family, which didn’t necessarily coincide with how connected you were with celebrities. this was until he saw how well you worked together. whilst working on a huge project for the family business, your boyfriend was stressed in the office. you walked in, ready to go on a date after he’d finished. ‘hey baby, you look hot, where you going?’ he’d forgotten, but you never held it against him. you loved to see the cogs turn in his head as he came to a realisation. ‘shit. it’s date night.’ he groaned head in hands. ‘I’m so sorry Y/N, work’s just been so busy, the clients wanted to move the order forward, the contractors needed more data on the financial markets, and…’ you sat down on his desk, holding his chin so you guys exchanged eye contact. ‘babe, it’s all good, i know it’s a really busy time for you.’ you stroked his face reassuringly, a sigh of relief emitted from his lips. ‘i ain’t leaving your side, we’re in this together,’ you said as you went in for a kiss. it was deep and sensual, and if you didn’t stop when you did, you would’ve left that room walking side to side. ‘so, what can i help with?’ you responded, looking at the documents on the desk. he stared up lovingly, ‘i don’t deserve you,’ he admitted ‘too good to me.’ which garnered a little chuckle from you. his dad saw how supportive you were, pulling an all-nighter for the benefit of your man. you were so tired that the two of you spooned on the couch in his office, and slept there. early the next morning, the two of you were met with a breakfast course on the coffee table and your respective starbucks orders. you kissed your bf goodbye, so he could work, and just as you were about to leave, his father stopped you. ‘good morning Y/N, did you enjoy the food?’ he questioned as you entered the elevator together. ‘it was lovely sir, thank you.’ you replied hesitantly. ‘the only thanks due is to you, i appreciate how you’re always there for my son.’ you smiled inside, longing to prove yourself to him. ‘I love him sir, he needs to know that any problem he has, automatically becomes our problem to solve together.’ he knew at that moment, you were the perfect fit.

one of the core memories of your relationship was the weekend in the alps. your boyfriend thought this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to have some alone time with you before the new year. with award season coming up, many celebrities needed to be styled, you legit had no time to see him, it was going to be amazing. you stayed in the chalet his parents owned, but neither of you knew that it’d be an entire sibling getaway. the two of you snuggled under the blankets, drinking hot chocolate, whilst listening to some quiet smooth jazz in the background. revelling in how cozy and warm it was, he was dozing off whilst cuddling and you decided to follow suit, but not before a quick kiss on your bf’s nose - he’s so cute. unfortunately, like most precious things, this didn’t last long. there was a huge clatter at the door, awakening you two. ‘what the fuck are you guys doing here?’ your man blasted at them. ‘oh hey lil bro,’ one of them said as the others made themselves feel at home. ‘we heard you lovebirds were here and wanted to see Y/N again, we missed him.’ they all waved at you. you blushed and immediately got up greet them all with hugs and squeals. ‘omds, i haven’t see you guys in ages, we have so much to catch up on.’ you blurted out in an excited frenzy. your love, on the other hand, didn’t share the same energy. whilst you had walked to his sisters, his brothers playfully punched your bf to cheer up. ‘you idiots, have the worst timing, he said as they got ready to get some wood for the chimney.

it was just you and the girls, as you gossiped about the drama that went down during fashion week as they ate up every word. you mostly had done a lot of listening to their relationship dramas and work lives, as you shared a couple giggles. you has made gingerbread men, as his sisters watched the master at work. ‘Y/N, these are delicious, how are you so good at everything?’ they praised which made you blush. the boys had returned, with your man wincing with pain as his brothers carried him in. ‘the dummy tripped on the snow’ they said snickering as you walked to help him. ‘how many times have i told you to be careful out there?’ you said, concerningly staring at the bruise on his hip. you touched it gently earning a wince from him as he pushed away your hand. ‘sorry babe.’ he stared dead in your eye and looked away, giving you the silent treatment. ‘what do you need?’ he continued airing. ‘i’m gonna get some bandages’ you said, unsure of what you did to hurt him emotionally.

‘the fuck is wrong with you?’ his sisters protested, thumping his head. ‘ow! what do you mean?’ ‘that boy loves you, so much so that he puts up with all of your shit and stupidity.’ they come to your defence. he looks to his brothers for help, but to no avail. ‘dude, I’ll be real, you fucked up.’ one says. ‘he was just trying to help’ another adds. like the youngest, he continues to deflect ‘well, if you guys hadn’t come, i wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and me and Y/N would have been happier. he finally admitted. ‘oh damn.’ their faces became gentler as they circled in on him. ‘I just never get to see him now, with work and everything, and i don’t want him to get used to not seeing me’ he started to get teary but hid it behind a scowl. ‘bro, you are meant to be with Y/N, i see it in your eyes every time he walks into a room, like he’s the only one there.’ your bf smiles at the mere thought of your face. ‘see, he ain’t even here and you’re cheesing so bad rn.’ they all laugh. ‘i don’t know how to tell him, he’s so good at communicating his feelings, i just, i just can’t do it the way he does.’ his heart begins to beat faster. ‘that’s the thing though, he knows you better than you know yourself.’ the eldest brother says ‘there’s nothing that he won’t be able to understand because the two of are so connected.’

you enter with the bandages and medical supplies. ‘here’s a chance to fix that’ his twin sister says as they leave and move to the other side of the mansion, locking the door behind them as they wave you bye for now. you sit beside him on the sofa, placing a hot compress on his bruise. ‘Y/N, we need to talk.’ you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine by being stand-offish ‘speak then.’ you say glaring into his eyes that made you melt every time but now. ‘i am so sorry for my rude behaviour, i know you were just tryna help my stubborn ass.’ you continued tending to his wounds, with an apathy rivalled only by the unconditional love you have for him. ‘whatever.’ you muttered. ‘aw, come on baby, don’t be like that.’ he grimaced. ‘like what,’ your voice growing in confidence ‘like someone who, as hard as they try, can never get their boyfriend to fully open up?’ you admitted. ‘you know that’s not the whole story.’ he looks down. ‘mkay’ you say, tired of arguin, he just needed to cool off. he takes a deep breath. ‘Y/N, you know i love you more than anything ’ your boyfriend boldly states, deepening your eye contact. ‘and you know i love you the same, but sometimes love is not enough,’ you struggle to get the words out, getting choked up as you hold his cheek for stability. he turns to kiss you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he caresses your thigh, as your tongues dance for dominance in the warmth of your mouth. you pulled back. ‘here goes nothing, babe, I’m afraid, afraid of losing you.’ he admitted desperately. ‘we barely ever see each other and I’m scared that it has, um, like, maybe, um’ he failed to articulate his thoughts, angering him further. ‘calm down love, i hear what you’re saying. you’re worried about the possibility of us being comfortable with rarely seeing one another and what that means for us.’ you always knew how to soothe his heart. ‘exactly, you’re just so good at letting me know what we need to do to make this relationship work that I’m clueless at asking for help.’ he smiled earning a chuckle from you. ‘we’re in this together boo, you won’t ever lose me.’ as he sneers into another smooch. ‘fuck.’ he moaned into your mouth as a tent forms in his boxers. ‘your voice always gets me going.’ you looked down and immediately dropped to your knees.

you hadn’t sucked your boyfriend’s cock in what seemed like forever. you pulled his boxers to his ankles as his thick cock sprung up, throbbing in the cool air of the room. you grabbed his pole, gaslighting him into thinking you were going to start at the tip. instead you began to massage his beefy, low-hanging balls in your mouth. ‘Y/N, fuck, that’s where the spunk is stored, not where you drink it from’ he snickered, removing them from your mouth. ‘you’ve got to st-UGHHHH’ you deepthroated with ease, loving how his dumb, naive nature was still translated to your time in the sheets. ‘that’s it baby, good boy’ he praises, looking at the slobber that made his dick glisten. ‘shit.’ he cums without warning, giving you an impromptu facial. ‘sorry darling, i came as soon as i saw you slap my dick on your thick lips.’ your boyfriend helped you to clean up, pushing his hand all over your face and fingering your mouth with his nut.

you moved to undressing, as you straddled your man. ‘i know you wanna pound me into tomorrow, but you can’t,’ gesturing to his bruise. he whined and cooed. ‘however…’ you whispered into his ear, jerking him of with a mix of his cum and your spit ‘imma help my man out tonight.’ as you sank onto his schlong with ease. his hands immediately grabbed your globes, as he licked his lips salaciousy, enjoying your physique. ‘so fucking hot.’ your bf mumbled. you started bouncing on his cock as he slowly rutted in you from beneath, your hole was already sore.

it was gonna be a long night…

@gayaristocrat imma save your fantasy for dacre, that man is 90s fine fr

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 27: You’ll Be In My Heart

Words: 1000

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Rating: T

CW: Language

Summary: Time is running out to tell Eddie how you feel.

@corrodedcoffinfest

“We did it! We’re going on tour!”

The smile on Eddie’s face when he told you the news was the biggest and brightest you’ve ever seen on his face. The smile on your face was forced and fake, but attempting to be as convincing as it could for your friend’s sake.

This was his dream, what he’s been working towards for years. There was no way you could let him know how devastated it made you. That the very words crushed your heart and suffocated your soul.

“That’s amazing, Eds! I’m so proud of you!”

The first half was a lie. The second half was not. But it was worth it with how he pulled you into his arms and squeezed you tight against his body.

Keeping up a smile around him became harder to do with every day that passed. To appear as excited as he was while depression was eating you from the inside out was a challenge.

Other friends knew how you were feeling inside. It was hard to tell if it was because they knew how you felt about Eddie, or you’re just not a convincing actress.

“You should tell him,” Nancy advised you more than once. It wasn’t as simple as she made it sound, though.

Tell him what, exactly? How you’re desperately in love with him and have been since the day you met? How the thought of him being gone for months makes you wish you could go into a coma until his return? How the thought of all the pretty girls that will be all over him has made you vomit into your toilet every night for the past week?

None of that would go over well.

“Besides, it would be even worse,” you told Nancy, “to confess how I feel and then still have him choose to leave.” Because that would be a conscious choice of leaving you over staying with you. It would be harder to delude yourself that way, as well. To tell yourself that maybe if he knew, he would’ve stayed, even when deep down you know it’s a lie.

“It’s only a couple of months,” you tell her. What you don’t say is that you’re sure after this he’ll be leaving Hawkins for good. How could the band stay here if they wanted to be successful? It’s impossible in a small town like this. They’ll need to be in Chicago, New York, or Los Angeles.

So, you hold it all in. Every jab to the chest you feel whenever he brings up going on the road. The nausea that churns through you constantly, since you can never keep it off your mind.

Time worked funny leading up to the band’s departure. Waiting for the agony of saying goodbye felt like it would never arrive. Poking you in the heart every day saying, remember what’s coming! But at the same time, moments with Eddie felt fleeting. Every movie you watched with him felt like it was over in a blink. Every meal together it seemed like the food disappeared as soon as it was in front of you.

Finally, the day comes and it’s excruciating to pull yourself out of bed.

Even though the original plan was for you to help load up the back of Eddie’s van with all the equipment, it’s all finished when you get there. Further evidence of how excited he is to get the hell out of Hawkins.

Friends gather outside the trailer, Wayne standing amongst them with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Eddie grins as he begins to hug those who have come to see him off, starting with Dustin. Nancy stands next to you and it’s getting harder to ignore the way she keeps glancing at you from the corner of her eye. Willpower being at an all time low, you turn your head in her direction. Her eyebrows raise in question.

You shake your head.

Disappointment floods her face and last minute indecision fills your brain. Should you tell him? So at least he knows? You’re going to be heartbroken either way when he drives off, so is it worth the risk?

You blink back in to focus as Eddie steps in front of you. He gives you a sad smile and pulls you in for a hug.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he says.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” you mumble against his shoulder. Pressure builds up in your eyes and you don’t have the energy to hold it back.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he whispers.

You nod, not trusting your voice. But as he takes a step away from you, your hand reaches out without permission, grabbing onto the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Eddie?”

He turns back to you with a curious look in his eye.

“I…”

Most of the others are talking amongst themselves but you can feel the heat of Nancy’s gaze on you.

“I, um.” You swallow, looking into those molten chocolate eyes that haunt your every thought.

“I love you.”

A small yet genuine smile crinkles his eyes and he pulls you in for another hug.

“I love you, too.”

He gives you another squeeze and a pat on the shoulder before he moves on to say goodbye to Max.

Tears fall heavier now.

“Are you okay?” Nancy whispers from behind you.

You don’t have an answer for that, though. Everything has gone numb. The words that laid heavy on your heart for so long came out, but he didn’t get it. It’s not within you to debate whether or not that was for the best.

Goodbyes all said and done, Eddie gives one last wave before he hoists himself into his van and starts the rumbling engine. Your eyes don’t leave the rusty old gas guzzler until it pulls out of Forest Hills and leaves you standing there. Surrounded by friends but feeling utterly alone.

“No,” you whisper, barely audible to even yourself. “I’m in love with you.”

[squadmuse]

ONE DAY IN OCTOBER - Part II

A MATT CASEY X HALSTEAD!OFC FIC (Charlotte Halstead Casey)

A/N: Part two is here, and it’s slowly but steadily getting more and more exciting! 🔥 Please read & review what you think. This is set in s7 btw. PART I

Charlotte nodded absentmindedly as she walked over to her locker and opened it up. “Yeah that’s a good idea, but I might go home and sleep.”

“It’s been a while since the two of you have had one on one time together,” stated Will as he slouched against the cool metal furniture, his brown eyes watching as his sister shoved her pale pink stethoscope away and fumbled around in her handbag. “You could always nap there, it’s past morning now so he’ll be home like always.”

Turning to face Will, Charlotte hummed indecisively. Her brother did make a good point. She could easily nap at their dad’s new apartment and catch up with him still. “You make a good point.”

“Well, I’ve been known to have good ideas, Tater,” laughed Will as he moved to help his sister into her jacket.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at his reply and giggled loudly at it. “Was Veronica Maguire in high school one of those good ideas, Billy?” she returned, smiling cheekily.

“Ok, that was one of my bad ideas,” stated Will as he remembered back to his high school prom. Veronica’s father had chased him for what felt like half of Canaryville, all because she and Will had made out that night. “But usually I’m a fountain of good ideas!”

Charlotte couldn’t help the snort that slipped out, and it caused both Halstead siblings to laugh hard. “Well, aside from Veronica and some other questionable ideas I’ve seen from you, I’ll agree that seeing Pop is a better one. I can make sure he’s doing well, and his meds are working for him still.”

“He’s a stubborn old guy, but he’s not stupid,” said Will as he locked up Charlotte’s locker for her and began to walk with her out of the room.

“If you say so,” replied Charlotte as she pulled her handbag higher up on her shoulder. “Like Mom used to say, we’ve all got that well-meaning Halstead spunk that makes us do stupid things.”

The two siblings laughed again at their Mom’s old joke. Charlotte knew she was lucky to have such a close bond with not only Will, but Jay also, and especially after they had lost their mother.

“Mom would kick his ass if he didn’t take his meds, probably will do so from heaven.”

“Damn right.”

It didn’t take long for Charlotte to leave Med, saying goodbye to Will in her dark blue SUV. He had made sure to walk there, even though he did not need to.

The two had decided that if Charlotte was going to go visit their dad, that she should pick up his prescriptions and some healthy food. Pat Halstead was a great connoisseur of all things fatty and greasy, which, after a quadruple bypass, wasn’t the best choice at all. Luckily, there were both stores on the way to the new apartment.

She had left Will at Med just after half nine, and after sending a quick text to Matt saying she had just left and for him to stay safe, Charlotte had happily arrived home and promptly fell asleep.

This pregnancy was definitely taking more and more out of her, especially if she didn’t keep moving or occupied. But Charlotte knew she wouldn’t have it any other way, both her and Matt wanted nothing more than their own baby, and this little one inside her was so wanted and cherished already.

Charlotte had never seen her dad cry other than when her mom had died and when she had married Matt, but Pat had teared up when she had told him he was going to be grandpa. He had already been helping Matt put together ideas for the nursery, the two bonding over their love of carpentry, woodworking and construction.

Standing in the doorway of the pastel green nursery after waking from her nap, Charlotte smiled at the painted white rocking chair next to the window. Even with a serious heart condition and waiting for his surgery, her dad had determinedly made the chair for his future grandchild’s first room. It was beautiful and she had definitely cried a ton.

Sighing, Charlotte decided to go take a quick shower and then head out to see her dad. Like Will had said, their dad had a routine and would be home now, most likely watching a baseball game on the television.

The sun was still shining as Charlotte drove through the streets of Chicago, and it just seemed like a good day to her.

It had been a quick effort to pick up some healthy foods for her dad, including some homemade low-cholesterol ready meals that she had found in the food store. The pharmacy had taken a little while longer, but Charlotte didn’t mind, and she had made sure to pick up a new oxygen tank with a mask for her dad. Luckily, he wouldn’t need to use it. But it was always good to have if the need appeared out of nowhere.

Even the loving text and sweet voicemail that Matt had left while she was asleep had made her mood even more irreversibly chipper, but her husband always had that effect on her. It just felt like one of those days where nothing could or would go wrong and Charlotte was happily relishing in it as she sang along to Taylor Swift in the car.

When she did finally arrive at the new high rise apartment building, Charlotte made sure to find a parking spot around the back. It was usually used only by the building’s occupants, but her dad had given her his permission badge to display it in her own car. He didn’t want her walking too far nowadays at six months pregnant.

Charlotte had just opened the trunk of her car and was bringing out the groceries and pharmacy bags, when she felt someone appear at her side and her green eyes quickly darted to her right-hand side and to the figure who stood there. Gasping, Charlotte placed a hand on her chest.

“Mrs Aquino, goodness you scared me there!” exclaimed Charlotte softly as she quickly smiled at the older woman. Her husband, Mr. Aquino, or Bert as he liked to be called, had been a friend of her dad’s since he had moved in, and Charlotte always made sure to be polite to the couple. It wasn’t hard, they were lovely.

Mrs. Aquino waved her hand dismissively. “My apologies dear, I just saw you on your own and had to come help!” she replied sweetly, moving to take two of the bags from her, leaving Charlotte with two also. “I still haven’t met that lovely husband of yours yet, we keep seeming to miss each other.”

“Yeah, Matt doesn’t have normal shifts at the firehouse,” replied Charlotte as she and Mrs. Aquino moved to walk into the building lobby. “That and his construction company keeps him busy, but I know he’d love to meet you too.”

Mrs. Aquino nodded as she pressed the elevator button. “He sounds like a good man, and that is all you can ask for nowadays,” stated the elder woman, glancing up at Charlotte with a wise look in her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be a great father to your little one.”

“That I know,” replied Charlotte, unable to keep the broad smile off her face at the mention of her husband as a father. She and everyone around knew Matt Casey was perfect fatherhood material and would excel at it. “This little one is very lucky to have him.”

Luckily, there were not many people getting on the elevator today, and Charlotte didn’t have much time to talk to Mrs. Aquino as they approached the twentieth floor, where she lived. Promising to keep in touch, they had said goodbye, and Charlotte had kept herself in the elevator until it reached the twenty-third floor, where her father’s new apartment was.

Coughing slightly, she stepped out onto the soft carpet and made her way down the corridor to apartment 23C, the home of one Patrick Joseph Halstead. The door was unlocked when Charlotte went to open it as she knocked, which was unsurprising.

“Pop?” called Charlotte out into the apartment as she closed the door behind her. “It’s me, Charlotte.”

Pat Halstead’s head popped out of the kitchen doorway, and he smiled ever so slightly before making his way over to his daughter as he gave her a one-armed hug. She was the only one he ever really smiled at or showed affection to nowadays, since his wife and her mom had died.

“What are you doing here, Charlie Bear?” asked a surprised Pat Halstead, using his own nickname for his only daughter.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at her dad’s comment. “What do you think?” she replied, chuckling slightly, motioning to the bags on the ground. “Here to spend some time with my old man!”

Pat grumbled. “I don’t need you taking care of me girl, you have enough to do,” he told Charlotte, but he quickly took the bags from her. “I bet that idiot bellhop downstairs didn’t help you with the bags?”

“Pop, he’s a receptionist, not a bellhop,” sighed Charlotte as she followed her father into his kitchen. He had the window open, and there was a great view of Chicago from where Charlotte found herself among the white tiles and gray walls.

Pat waved his hand in the air. “Bullshit, you’re pregnant, and he didn’t help. What kind of man doesn’t help a pregnant woman?”

“I parked around behind, so I didn’t see him and Mrs. Aquino took some until we got to the elevator,” replied Charlotte as she pulled out one of the kitchen table’s chairs and sat down. “Oh, apparently Bert wants to know if you’re going to poker night next week by the way.”

Pat nodded as he sorted through the bags, huffing whenever Charlotte tried to get up and help. “I’ll call him later, Ronnie won big time last time,” he said, looking back at her.

“That’s good, how is Ronnie?” asked Charlotte. She had met Ronnie a few times now, and he was a nice guy. Her dad seemed to look out for him as he was in a wheelchair after a wartime injury.

“Doing well, got into a new VA group yesterday morning.”

“That’s great news,” said Charlotte happily, her eyes alight with genuine joy for the veteran. “We could go see him with some lunch. I brought bagels and soup with more than enough for us both.”

Pat agreed before going silent as he opened up the pharmacy bag.

“You can go on ahead, I’m just going to find somewhere to shove this blasted thing,” he grumbled, pointing at the new oxygen tank.

“Hey, don’t attack it, you never know when you might need it,” replied Charlotte seriously.

“I’m fine. It’s just heart surgery that I’ve had, and you four kids keep treating me like I’m some sort of cripple!” retorted Pat as he walked out of the room, leaving Charlotte alone with her thoughts.

After a while, Charlotte decided to go up to see Ronnie herself as she knew her dad would eventually make his way up to the twenty-fifth floor apartment.

Leaving Pat to watch yet another baseball game, she smiled and made her way to the elevator for the second time that day, and pressed a painted nail against the little button to open it up.

However, it was as she stood there waiting, that Charlotte noticed that the elevator didn’t seem to be working all of a sudden and she harrumphed loudly. Now she was going to have to walk up two floors of stairs while six months pregnant and then two back down to her dad’s apartment.

She just hoped that it would be working again later, the thought of walking twenty-three floors of stairs down to the bottom made Charlotte want to burst into tears.

Undeterred, the youngest Halstead continued on her way and pushed open the door to the south stairway. It was only then that she smelled a scent that was oddly familiar, as if someone had burned a roast or something similar. Shaking her head, Charlotte started to climb the way up to the top floor.

It was probably nothing.

[misslovasstuff]

“Goodbye.”

[Sanji x reader]

summary: after getting to know each other, time has come for you and Sanji to part ways.

author’s note: Oda and I would agree that Sanji and angst go well together. I love how emotional he is and how deeply he feels things.

Was there ever a good in goodbye or did someone just inserted it there to make people feel less grief, less pain and more peace?

“You must go.” - trembling hands find their way in his chest, pushing it slightly away from where you were standing. Clenching your fist and jaw from resenting to tears, you turn around, ready to walk away.

Sanji had a look of confusion on his face, however there was a hint of indecisiveness as if for the first time, he was being torn apart. Not because he didn’t know what had to be done but because of the courage he would have to muster with saying good bye to you; his love, the spirit that breathes life into his body, the hands that gently caress every wound, the woman that looked at him in the eyes and decided to love him forever. However,

Does forever ever last for the lovers of this world?

“Wait, - his voice cracks as his hand reaches out to you. - I don’t want to say goodbye.”

His mouth trembles as if he wanted to say something more but the words were stuck on his throat. Shutting your eyes close for a moment as a sigh comes out of your mouth, you turn round slowly to face him; the man that came in your life so unexpectedly and showed you the way true love is supposed to feel like.

To your surprise, true love is found in little gestures that mean the world to you; a simple touch of the hands, a surprise meal you always wanted to try, doing things without expecting anything in return…especially that.

All your life you were always hesitant to ask for help, to ask for any favours knowing very well that those people you show your most vulnerable side to will exploit you and use these moments against your path.

But Sanji? Goodness, Sanji is a sweetheart. He only does everything with a loving heart, out of love and for love.

To you, h’s the clarity of the sky and the warmth of the sun, the light of which managed to brighten up even the darkest of alleys in your heart.

How do you let go of someone like that?

“Sanji, - you approach him and stand stiffly, hesitating to touch his face and caress it to comfort him no matter how much your entire being was begging you to. - that dream of yours…”

The blonde blinks in anticipation as he notices your hesitation to comfort him and yourself. Did you want to make this last interaction less painful that it already feels?

“That dream of yours is beautiful. Go, sail away and find the all blue! - the tone of your voice gets louder as you grab a hold of his two hands, holding the them tight near your chest as you look into his eyes.

Ah, those blue eyes of his which you called your treasure suddenly soften, a hint of blush covering his cheeks. The sparkle you had in yours however, always left him feel at awe, seeing galaxies dancing in them as if you looked at him and saw a universe worth of stars that would fall and burn brightly, turning into nothing if it meant you could have even a small moment of warmth.

Sanji pulls himself in your embrace, taking your hands and kissing them both. He smiles before making your forehead touch his as he whispers the words:

“I’ll go find that dream, - both of your eyes are closed but it felt like you could see how fast your hearts were pounding in sync with each other. It was like your two souls connected with every simple touch, gaze or word. - but I want to live it through with you.”

You’re surprised upon hearing his remark. A wave of pure happiness hits you in the heart, understanding that this time, this very moment might not be the last. Perhaps…

“I’ll come and see you again. - Sanji continues, as one hand of his travels to your cheek, cupping it with his warm palm and caressing it soflty. - so i’m not saying goodbye.”

“I will wait for you.” - a simple reply from you makes the blonde ecstatic, grabbing your waist gently as he looks at you with a smile, approaching your lips.

“You better. - he smugs, brushing your lower lip with his thumb, - as for me there is no other woman in this world but you.”

With your cheeks flushed and your eyes stuck on his gaze, you grab his tie and pull him into a kiss.

Your fingertips brush off his neck as his travel around your back, pulling you closer to his embrace. There is heavy breathing between multiple kisses you’re giving him, to which he gladly reciprocates, getting more and more pulled by you almost effortlessly, like a hungry man devouring his food gracefully served, all for him and only him.

After a bit, you break the kiss softly, watching how his gaze upon you is so tender and heart-melting, completely hypnotised by you.

“A small reminder why that’s the case, love.” - you pinch his nose, as someone calls for Sanji in the distance. He notices and looks at you one last time for a while:

“That seals it.” - Sanji claims, brushing his fingers through your hair while the other holds your cheek. - Take care of yourself, alright?”

You nod, caressing his inner arm while pressing his palm against your warm cheeks, trying to register his touch in your brain so you never forget.

“You too, - now you’re both holding hands as the distance between you slowly grows, your heart takes over your mouth:

“I love you, Sanji.”

The poor man’s heart skips a beat at your confession, now making it impossible for him to move even an inch further away from you.

“Such a beautiful heart you have, - he replies, - thank you for giving it to me. I promise to take care of it whenever I am. As for me…”

A wide smile conquers your face, feeling that special warmth all over that you feel only when Sanji is around. That’s a way you know, you’ll never forget him.

“If I were to express how strongly I feel about you, it might take us decades, love.”

With that statement you chuckle, seeing Sanji walking away backwards, as if he’d miss a chance of admiring your laughter which gives him a boost:

“I love you! I love you like a crazy man! I’m in love with you!” - Sanji shouts out loud, winking and blowing kisses. He looks at you fondly before turning away and running back to the ship.

‘Please be safe’ you whisper to yourself as his figure disappears in the distance.

His back was so wide, as if he was carrying a big weight that no one could see. You got Sanji, understood him to his core which caught him off guard and was the stepping stone to your relationship. At first, he looked at you differently. Of course as he’s a bit biased toward women, but if anyone who knew Sanji would be a witness to how he looked at you, they’d be more than shocked.

Some would say he looked at you with such fondness, with a mixture of awe and adoration, never tiring at the sight of you smiling and looking at him with an honest and sincere heart which he could feel you had. Others would say he looked at you with tenderness and pride, his heart swelling every time you’d talk so passionately about life and your beliefs. When he saw you for the first time, it was as a night flower had found the moonlight, and his life was forever changed. The surroundings disappeared and so did the the past and the present as he prayed silently for his future to be you.

It never changed, up until this moment, as he runs away, a single tear falls from his eye.

‘Please, wait for me. I’ll see you again, I promise.’

Sanji whispers to himself, wiping away his tear and building up the courage to walk forward his path and his life, although a very important part of his was left here.

He’ll miss you, surely, as the flowers miss the spring and as the birds grieve their home while they fly away. For now you felt like home, a place where he could be himself were your arms and a heart that understands him would be pillow he’d rest his head drowned in dreadful thoughts. Thus, the weight of your absence was heavier than any other which he could carry.

But he’ll be back to find you and when he does, you’d be more than ready to give him a life that he deserves to live, the love that he always deserved to have. And you’ll wait patiently for him, as a dry land waits for the rain and as a lighthouse waits for a ship to safely guide it back home.

The good in goodbye?

The good thing is, lovers never say goodbye.

If true in their love they are, surely fate will make them meet again.

[clangenrising]

Month 15 - Newleaf

“You’re sure about this?” asked Branchbark. 

“Yep.” 

Goldenstar nodded and tried to convince herself that she was entirely certain. Over the last week, she had met with the other leaders to organize a plan for the upcoming battle. They’d found a good spot in EarthClan’s territory for the meeting to occur. They’d plotted out hiding spots for all of their warriors and planned to accommodate whichever way the wind was blowing. Finally, the only thing left to do was to extend an invitation to Razor. 

It had been a difficult decision as to who she would bring with her. Obviously, she had to go personally. She had nine lives. If anyone was going to put themself in danger, it was going to be her. But going alone was ill advised. Sagetooth had returned from the most recent healers’ meeting with the guidance that she needed to take two cats with her if she wanted to succeed. She had been struggling to think of who it would be for a while now. 

Scorch and Aldertail were immediately disqualified from going back to the city. Bringing a healer wasn’t a good idea either given their lack of combat experience and she wasn’t willing to bring any of the apprentices either. Russetfrond was out too. If she disappeared the Clan needed a clear leader. So that had left her with Yarrowshade, Pantherhaze, Ospreymask, and Branchbark. Eventually, she had eliminated Ospreymask since the battle of the snowstorm had put a target on her back and she had decided against Pantherhaze to make sure Slatepaw didn’t lose another cat close to her.

She still wasn’t sure this was the right move. She wished that StarClan had been clearer about their instructions. She wished Scorchplume could come with her and give her advice. Still, this wasn’t the time to be indecisive. She straightened her posture and focused on the cats who were going to accompany her. 

“I need to bring two cats and it’s got to be you two,” she said. 

“Alright,” Branchbark said, sounding unconvinced but willing to take her choice on faith. 

“Thanks, Goldie,” Yarrowshade said. “It means a lot.” 

“Now remember what we discussed,” said Scorchplume, perched nearby. “Don’t show weakness but don’t be aggressive. Never let them corner you. When all else fails, fall back on superstition as your excuse.” 

“I know,” Goldenstar said with a smile. “I’ll be careful and come right back.” 

“You’d better,” Scorch snapped. “If you don't, I'm leaving Fogpaw without a mentor.” Goldenstar heard the worry under her playful threat and leaned in to rub her cheek against Scorch’s.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “This will be over before you know it.” 

After a beat of hesitation, Scorch returned the gesture, purring softly. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” 

Goldenstar frowned ever so slightly but Scorch didn’t elaborate. Sighing, she turned her mind to business. The small group said their goodbyes and the Clan wished them good luck and they set off towards the city. They traveled mostly in silence which left Goldenstar with way too much time to think about how things could go wrong. 

What if they arrived and the city cats just didn’t let her leave? What if they were attacked on sight? What if Razor didn’t agree to a meeting? Scorch had of course guided her on how to avoid most of those problems. They weren’t going too close, staying where they could easily make a break for the territories. They were going to approach slowly and with friendly posture to avoid any unnecessary hostility. She was going to stress that she wanted to meet with Razor one on one to try and find peace. Things were planned out. So why was she so worried? 

They crossed the thunderpath as the sun neared its peak in the sky, the acrid stone blistering hot under their paws, and continued until a twoleg nest drew close in the field. Following Scorchplume’s instructions, they gave the nest a wide berth and settled into a path on the other side of a long thunderpath made of gravel. They padded along it until they started to smell cats on the wind.

“Getting close,” Yarrowshade mumbled, mouth open to the scent. 

“Alright,” Goldenstar nodded, confirming the smell for herself. “Remember, I’ll do the talking, just stand behind me and look strong but not aggressive, alright?” 

“Easier said than done,” Branchbark swallowed. 

“It’ll be alright,” Goldenstar said. “StarClan is with us.” She hoped they were, at least. 

After a bit more walking, they spotted a pair of cats strolling towards them on the other side of the thunderpath. Goldenstar raised her tail and started across after quickly checking to make sure there weren’t any monsters bearing down on them. The pair of cats stopped in their tracks and started whispering to each other while watching the Clan cats approach. 

“Hello there!” Goldenstar called in a way she hoped was regal. “I am Goldenstar, leader of the wild Clans. I’m looking to speak with a member of the Exalted.” She stopped a fox length away from them, Yarrowshade and Branchbark close behind her. She had to force herself not to look back at them to make sure they were sufficiently imposing. 

The cats before her were a pair of toms, both of them wearing collars with little charms on them. One was a ginger tabby with green eyes and a dark scowl on his face. He almost reminded her of Russetfrond except for the genuine malice in his eyes. The other was a brown tabby with a mask around his green-yellow eyes and a slim face. If Goldenstar didn’t know better, she would have thought he had been born a she-cat. 

The ginger tabby said, “Well, you’ve found some.” Yarrowshade bristled next to her.

The brown tabby cleared his throat and said, “Forgive my companion’s rudeness. It is an honor to speak with the illustrious Goldenstar face to face. How can we help you?” 

“I’ve come to deliver a message for Razor,” Goldenstar said. 

“Is that so?” the ginger tom shifted his posture by way of a threat. He opened his mouth to drink in their scents, looking down his muzzle at them. 

“Yes,” Goldenstar said, holding firm despite the nervous wriggling of her stomach. “I wish to discuss peace with him. In four days, at dawn, I will meet him in our woods in a place that is sacred to our people so that we can negotiate with the full support of our ancestors. He may bring a second but otherwise come alone. I will do the same.” The ginger tabby was glaring at her with eyes shrunken to slits. The brown tabby was barely restraining the look of elation on his face. 

“What a gracious invitation,” he purred. “I will go and convey the message to Razor at once. Uh, when the time comes, how will he know the spot to meet you?” 

“Cross the thunderpath where the pine tree's roots disturb the stones and head straight north from there,” she said, just like they had decided. “I’ll have my second wait on the edge of the forest to escort him.” 

“The thunderpath,” the little tom mused. “That’s the big stone path dividing our two lands, yes?” 

“Correct,” Goldenstar smiled. “I believe you call it a road?”

“We do indeed,” said the tom. “I will tell Razor at once. He will be most eager to meet you in four days time.” 

“Good,” purred Goldenstar, letting out a sigh of relief. “I look forward to it.” With that, she turned around and walked back across the gravel pathway, trying to convey confidence with every stride. She resisted the urge to look back but it seemed the others were not so strong. 

“They’re heading back to the city,” said Branchbark.

“Good,” Goldenstar said again. “I think they took the bait.” 

“I don’t like that tom,” Yarrowshade growled. “Something about him just… isn’t right.” Goldenstar twitched one ear in agreement.

“Do you think StarClan told us to bring three cats so they would be outnumbered?” Branchbark asked aloud. “Would they have attacked us if there were only two?”

Goldenstar looked over at him in surprise. “Maybe? I hadn’t even thought about that.” They had been so polite. It was baffling to think that one cat had made the difference.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Yarrowshade growled darkly. “Foxhearts, the lot of them.” 

Goldenstar shook her fur to dislodge the creeping unease settling into it. “Well, thank StarClan that’s done. Now we just have to win the battle.” 

“We will,” Branchbark said with surety. Goldenstar smiled and wished desperately that she had that unshakeable faith within her.

[byuljoonie]

Never Goodbye // myg

It’s never goodbye, I’ll always see you again…

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: one shot, angst, fluff, quick smut, rash decisions

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of mental health, mentions of past SH/scars, sad-ish smut, d-day tour, swearing, almost oral (m4f), dom!suga sub!reader, unsafe sẽx, creampie, fluff if you hate fluff.

note: My depression has been hitting so hard lately. I will re-edit tomorrow, I’m exhausted and can’t double check tonight. I love Min Yoongi, I will backflip for him. In all honesty, when Yoongi did his first live since being gone for a while, I ugly sobbed over my iPad. I missed him so much and the thought of him leaving shook me to my core lmao. Though I’m overdramatic, I am a proud military wife for 3 so far of 7 husbands. Enjoy the one shot and feel free to submit requests to the link in my bio, and listen to some of my playlists also in the bio. I will post Ramo Buchón and this story on Ao3 next week. -dubu

I stood in the dimly lit record store, surrounded by rows upon rows of vinyl records, each a portal to a different musical era. I held in my hand the debit card my thoughtful boyfriend, Yoongi, had given me to use this afternoon. He had gifted me a beautiful scarlet record player, and now I was on a mission to fill it with music.

The store was a treasure trove of musical history. Rows of records stretched out in every direction, organized meticulously by genre and artist. I traced my fingers along the spines, feeling the nostalgia emanating from each one. Rock, jazz, classical, pop – it was all there, waiting to be explored.

My indecisiveness was palpable as I contemplated my choices. I would pick up one vinyl, then another, carefully examining the album artwork and reading the tracklist. Yoongi had given me complete freedom to choose, and I wanted to make sure every selection was perfect.

In the midst of my contemplation, my thoughts drifted to Yoongi. I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the way he had surprised me with the record player earlier. It was clear that he knew just how much I loved music like him, and he wanted to share that passion with me.

As I continued browsing, my eyes suddenly lit up when I spotted the records I had been searching for. There, among the vast collection, were albums by Queen, Mac Miller, Lee Moonsae, and Diana Ross – artists whose music had shaped my life. I felt a rush of excitement as I reached for each of them, holding them close as if they were precious treasures.

With a heart full of gratitude for Yoongi's thoughtful gift and a bag full of vinyl records, I headed to the checkout counter. I knew that each record I had chosen would be a soundtrack to special moments shared with Yoongi, and that made the indecisiveness and the joy of discovery all the more worthwhile.

My collection is finally growing again and I’m so grateful to him. I checked out quickly, holding a brief conversation with the nice blue-haired woman at the counter. Thanking god for the half empty store, I stepped out into the cold air. I called a taxi on my phone and waited the everlasting 10 minutes as I nearly froze in place.

The sleek navy-blue car pulled in front of the little store, a middle aged man stepping out of the drivers side to open the door for me. I thanked him as he grabbed my bag and set it in the trunk for me. The short drive back to our apartment was quiet, the hum of NPR coming from the radio piercing the silence. The heater blowing directly at me.

We pulled up to the tall building hurrying so I can escape the cold air. I grabbed my bag from the man and tipped him extra for his generosity and service. I scanned into the building making my way to the elevators past the front desk. After I exited the elevators I grew more excited to see Yoongi. I skipped happily to our door, putting in the key code.

I’m greeted by the smell of air freshener and our puppy running up to me. Excitedly licking my hand and wagging his tail. I closed the door setting my bag on the small table near it and then taking off my shoes.

“Hi baby!” I said cheerfully looking at Yoongi as he walked over to me. He grabbed my waist and placed a kiss on my check, making his way down to my neck. Resting his head on my shoulder as he held me. I felt like putty in his palm, moving to grab his face and plant a kiss on his lips.

He hummed into the kiss, letting his hands sneak around my waist to my ass. I giggled and pushed him away immediately, missing the feeling of his hands on me already. He pained a hurt expression and I gave him a knowing look. He was supposed to be packing but the laundry basket I left him to sort through seemed to be almost untouched as it sat idle by our sofa.

“Min Yoongi why is your laundry still folded neatly in that basket?” I questioned pointing to his clothes and resting a hand on my hip. “I needed a break,” he said nonchalantly, walking to go sit back on the sofa. He was precious but we have things to do and I can’t let his cuteness distract me. I grabbed my shopping bag from the table and walked over to Yoongi, sitting on his lap so I could show him the merchandise.

“Let me show you what I bought and then I’ll go start on dinner while you actually pack,” I said smiling at the way he rested his hands on my thighs. I took the vinyls out of the bag, setting the first two on the sofa cushion next to us.

“First I got this classic Diana Ross record, but I can’t hold in my excitement anymore!” I said grabbing the Mac Miller record and handing it to Yoongi. I watched as his eyes light up in excitement. “I know I was supposed to be shopping for me but I couldn’t help myself.” I said starting to tear up. I didn’t want to cry but the emotions are hitting hard, Yoongi leaves in a few days.

“Thank you so much baby I love it,” he said setting the record aside to kiss me softly. Yoongi sighed as he stared down at me on his lap. I noticed the worry in his eyes and sat up placing a hand on his cheek. “Are you okay my love?” I probed gently.

“It’s just…I can’t help but worry about leaving you alone again while I go on tour. Your depression and anxiety, I’m afraid they might worsen, and I won’t be there to help you when you need me the most,” Yoongi said staring deeply into my glossy eyes.

I smiled warmly at his confession, cupping his face in my hands. “Min Yoongi, it’s so easy to see why your parents named you light. You’ve helped me through so much already, you are my light. I’ve learned so much from you about handling my emotions, and even on my worst days, just a phone call with you can calm me down. I’ll be okay baby, I promise,” I choked out.

Yoongi looked at me for a second, seemingly analyzing me. He nodded slowly pulling me into a tight hug. “I know you’ve grown stronger, but I can’t help but worry. You mean the world to me Y/N,” he said as I buried my face in his neck.

“And you mean the world to me too, Yoongi. We’ll get through this together, just like we always do.” I said hugging him tighter. We stayed in our embrace for a while, finding comfort in each others presence. Eventually I break the hug and get up to go make dinner, while Yoongi starts to sort through his laundry basket.

“I guess I’ll actually start getting my things in order,” he mumbled to himself with a huff. He stood up flinging open his suitcases, and throwing in a few items he eyeballed. I giggled at how unenthusiastic he was being.

“I’ll help you pack after dinner Yoongs, you know I have to double check and make sure you have everything you’ll need.” I said busying myself at the stove. After I mixed the pasta, I told Yoongi to set the table while I change and I’d be right back.

I retreated to our bedroom, eager to change into my comfortable pajamas. As I shed my days attire and donned my soft, oversized pjs, my eyes involuntarily drifted to the prominent scars that crisscrossed my body, momentos of a harrowing time that altered my life.

A wave of sadness washed over me, recalling the challenges in my journey to recovery. Moments of doubt crept in, but just as I was about to get lost in my melancholic thoughts, I heard Yoongi’s voice gently calling me from the dining area.

“Babe come on I’m hungry and your food smells too good,” he whined cutely as I walked into the dining room. I placed some pasta in his plate and sat in the chair across from him, unconsciously tugging at the short sleeves on my shirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Yoongi hummed in delight at the taste of the cream pasta, and I quietly chewed along. It didn’t take long for us to finish our meal, I stood up making my way to the sink, grabbing the dishes from the table. I started washing dishes, mindlessly humming one of Yoongi’s songs.

“Why’re you so quiet tonight sweetheart?” Yoongi questioned as he walked up behind me. I felt his hands wrap around my waist, he then pulled me flush against him. “Talk to me Y/N,” he said in my ear, leaving a soft lingering kiss behind.

“I’m sorry I just don’t feel the best, honestly, I feel like a burden. All these ugly scars already make me feel less than, but the thought of me holding you back from doing what you love pains me the most, Yoongi,” I said nervously, melting into his embrace.

Suddenly Yoongi unraveled his arms, reaching around me to turn the faucet off. I turned around to face him, confusion flooding my features. He gently placed his hands on my face, searching my eyes for an unknown answer.

“Will you let me show you how much I love you Y/N?” He asked. I nodded slowly, bringing my hand up to touch his that rested on my cheek. He leaned down to place a kiss on my lips, hovering close after he pulled apart.

We walked hand in hand to the bedroom, closing the door behind us. Yoongi guided me over to our bed, helping me up onto the tall mattress. He climbed onto the bed, gently pushing me to lay down flat on my back.

“With every piece of clothing I remove from your body, I’ll leave a trace of me behind. You deserve to know how gorgeous you are Y/N, how utterly irresistible and perfect you are. Every piece of you that you view as an imperfection, I view as another reason to love you.” Yoongi said removing his black shirt from his toned figure.

He removed his shorts, carelessly tossing them to some shadow realm. He looped his fingers under my, formally his, oversized shirt, pulling it over my head in one swift motion.

He stared at my exposed chest for a second, eyes flickering back to mine every so often. He then leaned down, placing a trail of kisses down my neck, and stopping when he reached my collar bone.

He started leaving behind love bites, sucking and licking at the quick forming bruises. I hissed in pleasure as his tongue felt like pure ecstasy, sighing at the way he took my nipple into his mouth.

He looked up at me through hooded eyes, staring at me intensely as he massaged and sucked my breasts. I moaned his name quietly, wrapping my legs around his torso as he moved his attention to the other side.

He made his way down my exposed front, leaving no inch of skin without a trace of his love, or tongue. He moved further down the bed, hooking his fingers under the band of my flower covered panties.

His eyes never left my face, he smirked as I watch him in anticipation. Stomach quickly rising and falling with every nervous breath. He pulled them down my legs painfully slow, I shivered as the cold air hit my exposed clit. He’s barely touched me and I’m already a soaking mess.

He placed a kiss on my left hip bone, massaging the right one with a free hand. He kissed his way down until he hovered over my center, watching the way my eyes drank in his sinful appearance. I could feel the warmth of his breath hitting my core, causing an accidental whine to escape my pouty lips.

He let out a breathy chuckle before placing a kiss on my clit. That earned another moan from me as well as a tight grip on the rappers long hair. He sat up suddenly, receiving a look of disappointment from me. “I can’t wait any longer pumpkin, I need to fill you up like the good girl you are. Gonna make you cry for a much better reason than before.” Yoongi said tossing his boxers to the side and rubbing his length against my pussy, I squirmed in anticipation.

I felt his tip probe at my entrance, his length slowly being engulfed into the hot, soft cavern. I gasped at the intrusion, squeezing Yoongi’s arm as he began to move slowly. With every thrust I clenched harder, scratching down his back as he loving fucked me into oblivion.

“I can never get enough of you princess,” Yoongi grunted out as he sped up his rhythmic movements. “This is my pussy baby you’re mine, all mine, and no one else’s.” He growled eyes darkening with pleasure.

“hmfp I…I’m all yours Yoongi all yours please please fuck me just like that,” I stuttered out, crying as my body grew sore with the force of Yoongi’s hips slamming into mine. I enjoyed every second of this painful pleasure, yanking him by the neck down to my mouth. Lewd noises echoed through our apartment, a melody of wet sounds and heavy breathing reverberating off the walls of our bedroom.

I screamed in pleasure as Yoongi reached down and started furiously rubbing my swollen clit. “Fuck down on me Y/N, let the neighbors hear all those pretty noises you make. Tell me how much you love this dick baby it’s all yours,” he said hotly leaving a trail of wet kisses down my neck.

“It’s mine oh f…fuck Yoongi I can’t take it, I want you to cum inside me please. N…need you to fill me up so I can fully be yours,” I choked out in between sobs. Before I could react the bed shook with extreme force, Yoongi unbelievably fucking me deeper, lifting my hips off the bed and squeezing my bruised hips.

I felt his dick pulsate inside me, indicating he was just as close as I was. “Fuck…cum with me baby,” he grunted out head rolling back in pleasure as his pace slowed. I felt his warm cum shoot inside me, I shook furiously hips spazzing as Yoongi gently set me down. He wiped my tears as I exhaustedly went limp, too tired to get another word out.

“I hope you know I’m going to think about this all the time while I’m gone,” Yoongi said grabbing some water from his bedside table to give to me. I mustered the courage to sit up and graciously take the water, passing him the rest after I finished. He leaned over and placed another kiss on my lips, holding me in his arms as he quietly talked me into a restful sleep.

Yoongi stood by the door, his bags packed and ready for the waiting vehicle outside. I watched him, my eyes brimming with emotions as he turned to face me.

“Y/N, I wish I didn’t have to leave without you, but I know how important your work is to you. I promise I’ll try to call you everyday, no matter the time difference,” he said softly.

“I know Yoongs, but I’m going to miss you so so much,” I said voice quivering as I struggled to keep my composure. My body shook with sadness, shoulders slouching in defeat. Yoongi cupped my face in his hands and gently wiped away my tears.

“Hey look at me, beautiful. I want you to know that no matter where I am, my heart is always with you. If you ever need anything, if you’re feeling down, just call me and I’ll answer in a heartbeat. I would fly across the country in seconds to get to you my love. I might not say it enough, but you mean everything to me Y/N there is no me without you. You’re my inspiration, my strength, and my love.” He confessed, his eyes holding a depth of emotion he often struggled to express.

“I love you too Yoongi, more than words can say,” I said while sniffling. Yoongi smiled at me through glossy eyes, clearly trying to hold it together for me. “Actions speak volumes, right? I’ll prove it to you everyday I’m away. This tour won’t change how I feel about you, and it damn sure won’t change us.” He said pulling me into another tight embrace. A car horn could be heard impatiently honking in the background.

“Goodbye my love,” I said smiling through my tears.

“It’s never goodbye, I’ll always see you again darling.”

[jasonsknight3]

The story is in progress and the first chapter will be out soon. However, I had a writing spell today and had a little idea. A small story.

⚠️Warning ⚠️ : Drugs, club setting, a little something, and language.

Not my problem

Jason x reader

You were already home for the day just waiting for Jason to come back from his book shop job. However, he sent you a text saying he was going to be at Roy’s for a while tonight. You didn’t mind, you both loved each other to no end but sometimes you guys like to have time to yourself. Not because you were tired of each other but every once in a while like me time. For a while you watched some movies, and ate some dinner. That's when you had an idea, you’d make some food for and take it over to them. The dinner you made was just delicious sub sandwiches with grapes and chips. A simple but balanced meal. After wrapping the paper plates with the food on them, and grabbing your keys you head to Roy’s.

The drive was a good 20 minutes. The plan was just to drop off the subs, ring the bell and leave. After arriving at Roy's apartment and making way up the stairs. you hear their voices carrying from the open window. Which wouldn’t have bothered you except for your name being mentioned. Pausing, you listen intently. Jason sounded oddly calm and Roy just hummed in response every once in a while.

Jason: “I love her to death but please, if you have a problem you can't just complain. You have to make a change. Take a chance.”

Roy: “hm, yea.”

Jason: “Like the other day she was complaining about how she has no girl friends and can’t just go out and get one because she’s scared. Like, you just have to go for it.”

Roy: “Well, she really is a homebody Jaybird. It is harder for her.”

Jason: “I know, sometimes I just wished she’d just put herself out there you know? Be a little braver.”

That hurt. You only heard a few bits and pieces but it definitely didn’t feel good. Does he really feel bothered by that? Why would he tell Roy and not you? Does he wish you were different? After contemplating and the heartbreaking moment you set down the food. If he wants me more out there…fine. I’ll be out there. You thought. Going home a plan formed. Dressing up and making yourself look good you leave for the club.

Jason P.O.V

Sighing, I continued on “I know, sometimes I just wished she’d put herself out there you know? Be a little braver. She’s amazing and I really think if she could get past the fear she would get out there and make friends. Maybe she’d even see that she can make friends and people would love her like I do.” Roy nodded yea, she’s a great gal. Maybe if you go with her she’ll feel more comfortable and eventually do it herself.” Leaning forward I. The seat I nod in agreement. “Yea, probably.” Getting up I said my goodbyes and headed out. Just as I stepped out the door I heard a squelching sound and nearly slipped on something. Looking down I see a now ruined sub sandwich. “Hey Harper, you hungry?” Roy made her way over to see the destroyed sandwich. “Nah, I’m good. At least it was wrapped though. No mayo on the shoes.” He commented. “It was probably (y/n) that dropped this off. You know how she is.”

After cleaning the mess and saying a second goodbye I officially got on my bike and went home. Opening the door to our shared apartment I called for her. “(Y/N)! I’m home!” Silence. “(Y/N)?” I began looking around the house. She's not in the living room or the kitchen. When I get it to the bedroom I notice a few things. Closet is open, make up out, jewelry out, clear indecisive choice of earrings sense so many pairs were out still. Her silver shoes were gone, purse gone. She went somewhere. But where? I got a weird feeling in my chest. This is…wrong. I contemplated for a moment about checking her tracking device in her phone. The one I put in. “No, it’s not wrong, you are just making sure she’s okay.” I assured myself. Pulling out my phone I looked at her location. “A club? The iceberg lounge no less. By herself?! Hell no!” Throwing onto a brown leather jacket and snatching my motorcycle keys I sped off trying to swallow down the anger and panic. I probably should have been pulled over for speeding. If I was caught.

The lounge was full of acting, loud music, loud voices, lewd dancing among other things in that same realm, drugs and everything else I’d expect. My eyes scan the room for her and then there she was…I would have been doodling if she wasn’t talking to some other guy and or if I wasn’t a little pancaked and angry. Taking a quick breath I approached (y/n) “Enjoying your night?” I asked with a bit of a jealous edge among other things. She looked at me up and down before turning away and returning to her conversation. Did she just- I stepped in front of the guy blocking her view and leaning down to her level. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are princess, but what you not going to do is ignore me.” I said sharply. The guy behind me spoke up. “Hey pal, the lady was having a conversation with me.” Slowly I turn around to face this mediocre looking rich blonde. “Get lost pal, before you start choking on the teeth I’m about to knock out if you don’t get lost.” He put his hands up and backed off. Turning my attention back to (y/n) her arms were crossed angrily. “So, care to explain yourself?” She frowned, pointing a finger at me, very obviously angry. . “Just doing what you wanted Jason. Not your problem. Go cry about it.” She turned on her silver heels and began to walk away. “Wrong answer.” I said snagging her wrist and pulling her through the crowd, her feet fumbling a little on the way. She definitely was drunk.

Getting to a quiet corner trapping her between myself and the wall I leaned in close. “You better start giving me good answers or else I’m gonna start making assumptions, princess.” Her face reddened a little more than it already was. “I heard what you said. You wished I’d stop complaining about not having friends and should just put myself out there. That’s what I’m doing.” She slurred out. It all suddenly made sense. “Well did you eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation?” She folded her arms over her chest. “No. Didn’t need to. I heard what I needed to. I heard how you felt.” The feeling of panic, annoyance dissipated. “Babydoll, if you would have stayed you would have also heard I said you're amazing and I really think if you could get past the fear you could get out there and make friends. Maybe you’d even see that you can make friends and people would love you like I do.” I explained. “Well I-“ I put my finger to her lips. “Shhhh. No more. We can continue this later. Let’s get you home.” She shook her head, making her earring shake. “No, I’m having fun.” I wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Know you, this isn’t your kind of place for fun love. I’m taking you home.” I retorted, throwing her over my shoulder. “How many drinks did you have anyway?” She didn’t struggle in my grasp. “I just had a Shirley temple.” I pause, she only had one…”did you talk to anyone else besides that guy?” She answered “No.” That made my blood boil. That man will be lucky if he doesn’t get a bullet in the head tonight for trying that on anyone no less than his woman. However, (y/n) was the priority right now. She didn’t fight me at all. I knew deep down even in her drugged state she wanted to go home.

After getting her inside I got her ready for bed to help her take off the dress, no bra, a pleasant surprise, but I dressed her in a tank top and shorts with her “help”. Which was only really raising her arms and trying to stand up. Helpful but not entirely. Using makeup wipes I cleaned her face, brushed her teeth and finally laid her in bed. “Jason.” She sniffled. “What is it baby?” I cooed. “I’m…I’m sorry, I was just- really mad. I thought you weren’t happy with who I was.” Pushing back her hair I smile. “I know, just know. I would never change anything about you.” I say gently. “I love you.”

Not gonna lie, this art for this story is extremely self indulgent. Extremely. Lights and no lights. Jason just like 🤨 “what are you on about?”

[wolveria]

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 40

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

CHAPTER WARNINGS (Rated E): Explicit sexual content, monster fucking, nonhuman anatomy, non/dubcon (more on the side of dubcon), intense but brief anxiety, hurt/comfort

Chapter Summary: “Is there any other way?”

AO3

It felt like the last day of your life.

You didn’t move from the bed for some time. Waking up within the warm circle of 049’s arms, your cheek resting against his chest, was something you never thought you would have. It also came at great cost, and you would pay it soon.

But when? When would the deed need to be carried out? Were you supposed to start immediately? Wait for instruction? It was a horrible thought, but you wished Leahy had been clearer about what exactly he wanted. It was the gaps of knowledge, the unknown parts you were supposed to guess at, that left you frozen with indecision.

049 didn’t rouse you, though he must have known you were awake. He didn’t speak, and you didn’t either. There wasn’t much left to say, but it seemed there should be. You weren’t going anywhere, so why did it feel like you were supposed to say goodbye? Express regrets and wish for things you could have done differently. It felt closer to mourning than it did waiting for an execution.

049 only stirred when the food slot opened, delivering breakfast. He carefully ran his gloved fingers along the back of your hair, his breath tickling the crown of your head.

“You should eat,” he said softly.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I assumed as much.”

You curled closer, seeking out his comfort, and then you stiffened. You sat up quickly, letting his arm fall away from your shoulders. You didn’t want him to think—you just wanted closeness, not…

With a bitter glance at the camera, you moved down to the foot of the bed and got out. The bed itself had one side pushed against the wall about midway up the room. The bookshelf was at its head, and beyond that, the desk and bathroom area. But towards the foot of the bed, in the back corner, sat the camera. It would give a perfect view of… of…

You retrieved the food tray and laid it out on the counter, leaving plenty for 049 to partake, though most days he didn’t. You forced yourself to nibble as much as you could, your stomach too much a knot to allow more than a few pieces of fruit and half a bagel. It was an unfortunate side effect of your anxiety. When you needed energy the most, that’s when your body refused to have an appetite.

049 didn’t comment on your sudden departure, and the air in the chamber was somber. That’s what it felt like, the both of you preparing for a funeral. It almost made you break the silence just to say something, even if it was mundane small talk. You wanted to ask about the medical files, or his journal, or anything at all. Something to fill the space with more than just heavy waiting.

The silence stretched on, though really it was more accurate to call it white noise. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights, the dull rumble of the air conditioner. It was the ordinary ambience of an office space minus the water cooler chatter. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine you were back at your old office, ignorant to a world that made little sense and held even less compassion.

Your period of waiting was interrupted by a click of the intercom. You flinched upright on a lab stool, like a rabbit hearing a gunshot in the woods, ears perked and legs tensed to leap. You’d been staring vacantly at the medical files, not reading the words or seeing the faces, and now your full attention was on the speaker in the ceiling.

“Tonight.”

That’s all they said. You couldn’t tell who the voice belonged to—not the Site Director, but the order clearly came from him.

Tonight. It had to be done tonight.

“What time is it?”

049 had been at his desk in the inner chamber, but he stood at the threshold between the chambers now.

“Ten twenty-five, AM.”

You didn’t doubt his innate ability to sense time. He was never wrong. Your stomach roiled but you kept down your meager breakfast.

The day passed with a vicious graduality. You wished they had given a specific time. Or given no time at all. It was as if this whole project was designed to break your mind as well as shred what was left of your dignity.

At some point, you put your head down on the counter, hunched over on your stool, reports forgotten. The darkness under your crossed arms was a respite from the constant fluorescent lights, a shield from the observation window. Let them see you defeated. There was something freeing about having nothing left to hide.

Time passed in a restless haze between dozing and spacing out. Two meal deliveries signaled the passing of the day, and you ignored them. 049 didn’t attempt to speak to you, perhaps knowing this quiet deprivation was what you needed. He had always been perceptive that way.

You didn’t focus on anything at all until a gentle touch grazed your arm. You didn’t flinch. There was only one person who would touch you that way, and you wouldn’t retreat from him.

“Doctor?”

You raised your head, blinking at the bright lights and bending your back to sort out the kinks. You looked over your shoulder, but 049 didn’t speak immediately. He simply studied your face, his eyes soft with concern.

“What time is it?” you asked. What else was there to track but the time?

“Ten minutes after seven.”

“Mmm. When does the sun set?”

“Half past the hour.”

Punctual as ever, your masked physician. You gave a small smile, but it felt empty. It faded as you looked past him to the open door of the inner containment chamber where you spied the bed and its innocuous dressings.

You turned back to the counter and braced your hands against it to push yourself up. No point in delaying. Sunset was the best indicator of night, and it was better to get it done and over with.

Maybe… maybe it would be easier after the first time.

You didn’t know how you managed to make it into the inner room without stumbling. Your knees were shaking, your calves constructed of gelatin, and your lungs pulled for air.

You walked toward the bed, and then past it. You turned around and walked the other way. You paced, back and forth, your breathing becoming more erratic, spots dancing in your vision.

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do thisyoucouldntdothisyoucou—

Something broad and dark blocked your way. Gentle hands held your shoulders in place, and 049 said, “Breathe.”

You tried to obey, but your lungs wouldn’t cooperate.

“Slowly. In… and out. As I’m doing.”

You copied his breaths, slow and steady. In for several seconds, hold, then slowly out. Repeat. Focus on his breathing and nothing else.

When your body wasn’t wound as tight as a coil, you swallowed compulsively and chanced a look. 049 met your gaze steadily. There was no fear or anger there, just the weight of his worry.

You pressed your lips together to keep them from trembling, and your voice came out a whisper.

“Is there any other way?”

It felt childish to seek comfort in this moment, but you were weak. Too weak to find a way out of this, too weak to prevent this from happening. Too weak to face this alone.

His hand cupped the side of your jaw.

“If there is, I do not see it.”

Your head dipped in agreement. This was it, then.

049 pulled you into his arms, and he held you carefully but warmly. Always so warmly.

“This isn’t the end,” he said low in your ear. “We do as they command, we survive another day on their terms, but it will not always be this way. And there are things not even they can take.”

When you pulled back there was certainty in his eyes, along with something else. An intensity buried within that stirred something inside you, and this time, you didn’t stifle it.

“Okay,” was all you said. You took his hand and led him to the bed.

You let go when you got under the covers and made room for him. You pulled off your leggings and underwear, keeping the white smock on. Fuck whoever was watching, you weren’t giving them more of a show than you had to.

049 joined you under the covers more slowly, his movements careful as he laid down. He didn’t touch you, and it took a moment to remember what he’d said before. In this area, you had more knowledge than he did, or at least more practical experience. You would have to lead.

“Do you need to get undressed?” you asked, not sure how this was supposed to work with his robes also acting as skin.

“No. This will be sufficient.”

He was on his side facing you, but he seemed indecisive. Out of his element.

You gave him a small smile only he could see and took his arm, gently tugging it toward you.

“Come here.”

He obeyed, but his movements were still cautious, testing the waters. You continued to pull, indicating you wanted him to lie on top of you, and his eyes focused on your face, uncertain.

That trepidation vanished as soon as his weight settled on you, his hips nestled between your legs. You moved them apart, making room for him. His gaze darkened and his hands curled into the sheets on either side of your shoulders.

Your smock was caught between your legs, putting a barrier between you, and you pulled it up to your stomach. 049 closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath as your bare skin pressed against his robes.

The intercom clicked on.

“No covers.”

049’s eyes flew open, a soft growl escaping as he reached behind him to throw off the blankets from the bed. He muttered a heated, “Va te faire enculer,” in the direction of the camera.

You had no idea what he said, but you certainly liked the way the crude French rolled off his tongue.

“My… apologies,” he said, turning back to you. “I should not have lost my composure.”

You bit your tongue to keep from telling him losing his composure was necessary for what you were about to do. He would learn that soon enough.

“It’s fine.” Your voice was gravel. You cleared it. “Are you ready?”

His gaze softened, and oh, it had a dangerous affect at close distance.

“I am. Are you?”

You nodded and winced at the clinical nature of it, but that was probably the best approach. Have sex only long enough for 049 to orgasm, and then it could be done with.

Except you couldn’t stop trembling. It was equal parts anticipation and nerves. If you’d had sex semi-recently (how long had it been?), perhaps this would have been much easier. You could treat it as a chore, an item to check off your duties for the day. Or more accurately, something you had to do under threat of further torture and humiliation.

Except your body wasn’t responding as if it was under duress. The tension that had been growing each day you spent with 049 was building to a point of unbearable pressure. Your cheeks were hot, skin tingling in all the places you touched, and you could only guess what your expression looked like. With the way 049’s gaze roamed your face, taking in every detail, you were more exposed than your half-nakedness.

What did it matter how clinical you were? You ached to touch him, to be touched, and you refused to allow 049’s first moments of intimacy be cold and distant.

You hooked your arms under his shoulders, splaying your hands across his back and gently pulled him down until his chest was against yours. 049 gave a shudder when more of his weight rested on you, his breathing slightly off-rhythm.

That’s it, you thought, rubbing your hands across the back of his shoulders. Just relax.

His face pressed against the side of your cheek, the curve of his beak against your jaw, and you automatically opened your legs wider. Your heart was hammering, and the trembling was there but not as harsh. Your own body relaxed under his weight, yearning for his hands on you, but he kept them dutifully gripped into the bed sheet.

Something warm and heavy pressed against your hip. You frowned, confused as to what it was, and then understanding hit you when you shifted against it and 049 released another halting breath.

You tilted your hips up in silent permission, keeping your lips firmly closed, not knowing what sounds you would make if you opened your mouth. You wanted to take him into your hands, discover the shape of him, get him to make more of those noises that he was keeping trapped in his throat.

But you kept your hands on his back, and 049 adjusted himself, moving one arm between you. He grabbed himself to line up with your entrance, but he hesitated, even now with his eyes dark and his voice a rasp.

“Are you sure?”

You made a kind of strangled noise and nodded.

His eyes grew darker, a new hunger in their depths, and he lined up with you, the head of his cock pushing against your folds. You drew in a sharp breath. The shape was different, the head tapered, and it pressed against your entrance.

The head slipped inside with some resistance, and that’s where he couldn’t go any further. He was wider past the head, larger than a human, and you weren’t nearly wet enough yet.

“Keep going,” you grit out. You kept your face as blank as possible, but something of your pain must have shown through.

“I have- in my satchel, there are bottles. Lubricants I can retrieve—”

“No.” You gripped his arm. “No, don’t leave.”

If he left now, you’d lose your nerve. You couldn’t start this over again. You couldn’t.

“Stay,” you repeated, your voice shaking as if you were on the verge of crying. Because you were. “Please.”

He released himself, settling his weigh again as he cupped his other hand against your hair.

“I will not hurt you.”

You wanted to say he wouldn’t, or if he did, you could take it—you’d endured far worse. But you remained quiet, distracted by his thumb stroking your hair. His gaze was thoughtful, slightly off focus.

“There are… other methods I can employ to make the process smoother.”

“Okay.” You would agree to nearly anything at this point, just as long as he didn’t leave. “Whatever you want.”

Your nerves were frayed, the trembling was getting noticeable again, and you regretted not eating anything all day. You waited, not sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t for 049 to bring his hand towards your face. He hesitated, his thumb tracing the outline of your jaw. You searched his face questioningly, and he took a breath.

“Since I cannot do it myself, I will need you to coat my fingers with your saliva.”

Oh. Oh.

You swallowed and nodded. For having all the experience, you were the one slow to catch up, but your apprehension melted when his fingers touched your lips. The tip of your tongue tasted him without thinking.

His eyes grew sharp as he pressed his fingers past your lips into your mouth. You welcomed the intrusion, sucking the digits automatically, tasting the strange, living leather.

The pads of his fingers pressed down on your tongue. He probably wouldn’t need to do anything more than that to get you ready, but you weren’t going to stop him. Heat pooled low in your gut, fueled by his single-minded focus on your mouth.

There was no true reason for you to swirl your tongue around his fingers or to suck them down nearly to the last knuckle. No rationale behind it, yet you did it, imagining another part of him heavy and full in your mouth. 049 sucked in a breath and shifted his weight. The warmth of his cock against your leg along with the pressure in your mouth had you salivating. By the time he removed his fingers with a wet pop, they were slick with your spit.

049’s hand slipped between you again, touching your inner thigh. His fingers trailed upwards, dipping between your folds, and his fingers pressed against your clit.

Unlike when he joined you in bed, filled with uncertainty and doubt, his fingers moved with precision. Surgeon’s fingers. They pulled you apart with gentle eagerness, coaxed with deft certainty. First one finger than two circled around the sensitive nub, stimulating it into hardness with startling ease.

A surprise moan punched out of you, and you tilted your head back, fighting to control your breathing.

049 dipped his fingers down your slick folds to your entrance, prodding inside without much resistance before dragging his fingers back up, drenching your nub with your own arousal.

“What—” you choked out. “Where… did you learn to…”

He spoke into your ear, a hint of smugness to his words.

“The human body is familiar territory I have traversed countless times. It has its secrets, but I know them all.”

You nearly choked on your own breath, your chest rising and falling too fast as you tried to remain somewhat in control. His fingers slipped back inside your entrance, rubbing against the spongy material on the inside wall as his thumb rubbed circles against your clit.

You weren’t going to last long like this. He’d already made you wet enough so penetration would no longer run the risk of injury, but he didn’t stop. You didn’t want him to stop, you wanted to come on his fingers just as you’d wanted to when he’d given you that first examination, unfairly making your body respond like a well-tuned instrument to his ministrations.

Your peak was rapidly approaching, and it was not one you would be able to bear in silence. It was going to hit you hard, for everyone to witness for their dissection and cataloguing.

You couldn’t—you didn’t want them to—

“Stop.”

It was a testament to his self-control that 049 stilled his movements. You were breathing hard, sweat damp on your skin, a ruined mess with just a few strokes of his hand.

049’s focus was sharp, devouring in the way a predator would savor over their prey whimpering between their claws. But he didn’t move, and concern crept into his eyes as he searched yours.

“I don’t… want them to see.”

Your eyes burned with humiliation, with the force of your need and the shame of it.

“Turn me over.”

His gaze flickered with understanding, but there was concern there too, and he seemed as if he was going to speak. But then he removed his fingers from inside you and lifted up, a hand on your hip turning you onto your stomach.

When his weight settled along your back, his cock pressed against your thigh, you bit into the pillow to muffle the moan. It felt different in this position, your hips automatically lifting from the bed, desperate to rub against him. There was no hesitancy this time, your need far greater than your fear. You didn’t care what the cameras saw now, what little they could see. He was once again shielding you from your watchers, his broad form keeping their prying eyes from your skin.

Your smock had ridden over your breasts, and your pert nipples rubbed against the sheets, drawing out another low moan. 049 adjusted himself so his cock hung just behind you, heavy and hot against your folds.

“Please,” you begged, your knees braced against the bed, lifting your hips as much as you could with him weighing you down. “Please.”

He growled low, his face pressed into your hair just behind your ear, and he lined himself up. He pushed, the head of his cock breaching your entrance easier this time, followed by the wider length of his girth.

You whined between your teeth, the stretch almost too much even with your arousal making a mess down your thighs. He held your hip with one hand, biting out something in French.

Insatiable, you tried to meet him, pushing back, and forcing another inch or two inside. He gave a gutted noise, as if the pleasure was almost too much. It was a beautiful sound; you wanted to hear it again. You tried to wiggle further backwards, take more of him, but he grabbed your hip firmly with his other hand, making you still.

“Wait,” he spoke in that same breathless shudder. “One moment.”

You didn’t have a choice with his vice-like grip on your body. He breathed heavily, a shiver rippling through him, and God, you wanted him fully inside you so much it hurt. The cameras, the observers, they didn’t matter in the face of the hunger that licked up your thighs and heated your core.

“Please,” you whispered, his face so close you didn’t need to speak louder. “I can do this.”

He let out a small breath that might have been a laugh.

“It is not a question… of your capability.” His words were taut as a wire. “It is a matter of strength, and how I must... restrain mine.”

You took his hand and placed it on the bed, slipping yours underneath. You twined your fingers with his, your knuckles braced against his palm. What should have been a lethal touch, but for you, never would be.

“I trust you.”

049 shivered, his forehead pressed against your hair, his body trembling in an effort to remain still.

“I need you.” You squeezed his fingers. “I want you.”

You sensed when he stopped fighting it. His posture relaxed, no longer rigid, and he pulled back a few inches. He pushed back in, the sudden intrusion hot and wet and sending sparks up your spine. You arched back against him, and the next thrust went deeper.

Unshed tears blurred your vision, the stretch and fullness almost too much and yet not enough. It was on the third thrust that his hips connected with yours, snug against you as his cock filled you past what any other human could.

You could barely think, barely breathe, your body a useless, lustful thing. A moan dragged out of you as you leaned back against him, and with his own answering growl he pushed you flat against the mattress.

The restraint he’d tried to maintain was gone, though his movements weren’t careless. Each thrust down into you, each roll of his hips was done with intention, a drive to ruin you for anyone else. You were completely full, your walls clinging to the strange textures of his skin, the curve of his cock striking a deep bundle of nerves you didn’t even know were there.

His skin was hot, almost burning every place he touched you, his cock sending jolts of heat down your gut. His breathing ran ragged, accentuated by the harsh metallic effect of this voice. Any moans that slipped out were quiet but choked with pleasure, driving him harder into you.

Your mind was a bubbling, staticky mess. 049 wasn’t just thick, there were ridges along his shaft, a pattern you couldn’t discern, not with your mind a jumbled haze. Every thrust rubbed against more than one sensitive spot, leaving you a drooling, panting mess as your walls slowly tightened around him. You were close to reaching your peak, and this time, you weren’t going to stop.

His hand hadn’t left yours, his fingers clawing the sheets underneath. But his other hand rounded your hip to press flat against your abdomen, right above your pelvis. Comforting. Protective.

Possessive.

White light burst behind your eyes. You were a vice around him, forcing him to slow as you throbbed and arched your spine. 049 growled, losing his rhythm. Something large pressed against your entrance at the base of his shaft. You didn’t know what it was, but you grinded against it with a single-minded need even though it was far too large for you to take.

More French expletives spilled from him as he forced you to remain in place, but the hot barrier pressed against your entrance as 049 shuddered with a low growl that was almost animalistic. He throbbed inside you as he gasped for air, each breath hot against your neck. He dipped his head against your shoulder, releasing your abdomen to slide upward, wrapping his arm around your waist.

You released a heavy breath and relaxed, bliss washing over you like a soothing wave, aided by his warm weight on your back. You still pulsed around him, but it was a dull, pleasant sensation. Closing your eyes, you let yourself stay in the moment. No thoughts or worries or fears.

Just him. Only him.

Next Chapter

[theseshipsshallsail]

Summary:

By tacit agreement, they’d shelved the more sensitive subjects their thirty minute journey from Roma Termini; postponing grim reality with a wide array of desultory chitchat. The magazines he’ll read on the plane, for example. The meals he’ll be obliged to eat. The inescapable jet lag that’s bound to knock him for six. Denial is grief’s distractor - or so his beloved bubbe used to say - yet such advice itself proves futile as Fiumicino’s glass façade renders him breathless; the gaping wound in Oliver’s torso bleeding ribbons atop the sun-baked parking lot.

“Are you sure you have your passport?”

Elio’s voice is unnervingly blank as he stares out the window of their idling shuttle bus; the lean muscles of his jaw bunched in solemn contrast to the quick-bitten nails tap-tap-tapping his star of David. It’s not the first time he’s asked - nor, Oliver suspects, is he truly heeding his response - but forcing a smile to his frozen features he pats his leather holdall regardless; acutely aware of his livewire knee jerking in the narrow space between them. 

By tacit agreement, they’d shelved the more sensitive subjects their thirty minute journey from Roma Termini; postponing grim reality with a wide array of desultory chitchat. The magazines he’ll read on the plane, for example. The meals he’ll be obliged to eat. The inescapable jet lag that’s bound to knock him for six. Denial is grief’s distractor - or so his beloved bubbe used to say - yet such advice itself proves futile as Fiumicino’s glass façade renders him breathless; the gaping wound in Oliver’s torso bleeding ribbons atop the sun-baked parking lot. 

It’s all a bit of a blur after that, with Elio offering sporadic translations as they navigate the bustling concourse; both fists jammed in the pockets of his jeans ‘til they’re done checking his bags. Oliver yearns to soothe his pain. To gather him close and never let go. But like a fool, he’s allowed a physical gulf to fester, also. There's no comfort in this phoney shield - no healing from something not properly expressed - and crushed by the weight of their self-imposed exile he’s suddenly struck by the macabre notion their last, frantic kiss at the Pensione Barrett could indeed be just that.

Their last.

And the standard by which all others fall short.

“You’re staring,” Elio mutters, mouth flattened to a hard line, and Oliver’s plagued by indecision as his tell-tale heart beats for the want of another. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, half-embarrassed and completely unmoored. “I shouldn’t -”

“Anch’io...” Shuffling his feet, Elio tugs at Billowy’s sleeves where he’s rucked them up to his elbows. “Does it bother you?” A pause. “That I’m wearing it?”

No.

And yes. 

Though not in the way he might expect.

The possessive thrill of seeing Elio in his clothes triggers something primal, but given the circumstances, Oliver swallows thickly, a vicious ache rising in his chest as he curses the cards they’ve been dealt. 

“What’s mine is yours,” he says eventually, earning a brittle scoff, and the next thing he knows he’s grasping Elio’s wrist like a goddamn lifeline: towing him through the airport pandemonia to the nearest restroom because fuck what anyone else thinks of them.

By some small miracle the long row of cubicles are empty, so Oliver makes a beeline for the furthest stall; throwing the lock then kissing him fiercely, crowding him into the graffiti-covered partition. It comes across too confident when he’s teetering on the brink, but Elio’s body is warm and familiar as he commits each frenzied movement to memory; piecing them back together as Plato envisioned, headless of the one p.m direct flight still waiting to rip them apart.

“I keep telling myself you’re going to change your mind,” Elio whispers, pressing his forehead to the crook of Oliver’s neck. “I keep thinking you’re going to stay.” He doesn’t sound angry. Or even accusatory. Yet the abject resignation in his slumped demeanour strikes a harrowing chord. “Only you’re not, are you,” he continues roughly: less a question than a statement. “When that gate opens -”

“Elio…”

“- you’re just going.”

Unhunching slightly, he clutches the dark-green material of Oliver’s Oxford: a weary Atlas braving the eternal struggle. His palm kneads his shoulder the exact same manner Oliver’s did that afternoon on the tennis court, and the churning of his stomach increases exponentially as Elio lets slip the occasional sniffle over the ancient ceiling fan. 

Is it better to speak or die, echoes from the recent past.

You’re hurting me, follows right after.

Scenes from their San Clemente summer play like an old home movie, and the truth is irrefutable as Oliver takes him in his arms; his lover, his soulmate, the sun he’s orbited from the very start.

“Hey…” he murmurs, rocking him gently. “Hey... it’s okay. This isn’t over, yeah? You won’t lose me. Not if I can help it.” There’s a promise beneath his words - an outlandish certainty, likewise - and Oliver hopes with everything he has that Elio hears it also. “I’ll phone. We’ll write. There’s the book tour in the spring…”

Mere crumbs, he’ll admit, to the banquet on which they’re versed, and Elio’s eyes hide nothing as he chews his bottom lip, hands dropping limply to settle at his sides. “Do you have any idea?” he asks then, sans the raw urgency of before. “How glad I am we found each other? How happy I am you came?”

Oliver inhales sharply - allowing himself a choked-up sob - and as a broad, Italian accent booms from the overhead speaker it’s all he can do to hold on tighter: the salty sting of mingled tears bitter upon his tongue.

[fallinforerling]

have you met before? | chapter 3 - eh

ೃ⁀➷ erling’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ erling’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

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You told yourself for the entirety of your shift that you wouldn’t give in due to nervousness; that you wouldn’t feel pressured just because you had a date. But as the hours passed, you felt the urgency to get ready immediately. With a sigh, you said goodbye to who seemed to be the last customer of the day, realizing it was already five p.m. and you were still there.  

Your mind raced and raced, thinking about what type of guy Erling could be. Was he the type to take his date to a fancy restaurant? Or was he more laid-back? How did you expect him to be?

You didn’t have an answer. You just wanted to go out with the same sweet guy you’d met a few days ago. And even though you still saw him as Erling, just Erling, you also knew he was a famous footballer. That made you nervous. Thinking about it made you dizzy, to be honest. 

“Calm down. Breathe.” You told yourself, taking long, deep breaths before relaxing your shoulders. “He’s a normal person, just like you. No need to freak out.”

And it was true. There was no need to see him any differently just because he’s famous. He was the sweet guy who asked for a date, and he’ll stay that way. 

For now, the only concern you were having was that you really needed to get ready, and, for now, the shop work could wait until tomorrow. You gave the clock a quick glance, feeling your heart jump when it marked 5:40 p.m. 

Run. Run. Run. That was the only word that repeated itself in your head as you collected your things, making sure every single lock was in its place before hurrying to the door. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

As you predicted, your indecisiveness came through, making it five times harder to choose the perfect fit for this date. 

It’s dinner, but where? Do I wear a dress, pants, a blazer, flat shoes, or high heels? You saw the ridiculous amount of clothes gathering on every flat surface of your bedroom, frustrated when you tried to see anything working, but nothing did. Will he even pay attention to my clothes? You couldn’t know, and it would be such a dick move to throw the first thing you saw just because you were in a hurry. 

Every dress you owned seemed like too much or too little; the other combinations didn’t sit right with you. It was so frustrating that you wanted to call literally anyone you knew for help. And then, just as you were reaching down to your nightstand to get your phone, a miracle happened. The delicate fabric of the dress was spattered on the closet floor, hidden from your sight unless you looked at it in the right position. /t was like destiny. 

“I can’t believe I forgot about you!” You shouted, picking it up with care. It was perfect. 

You hurried to try it on, praying for it to work. The need you felt for it to fit was immense, so when it passed your legs and sat around your hips as comfortably as you remembered, you started to thank every single deity available. Finally. You looked back at your reflection, feeling satisfied with the vision. The black dress, which was your go-to option whenever you had to wear something formal but casual, still fit you like a glove. Everything about it was perfect, from the delicate lace around the cleavage to the way it wasn’t too long or too short. The material was soft, comfortable, ideal.  

The joy you felt lasted only five minutes. You shot your phone a glance, and suddenly you didn’t care anymore for the dress or the state of your room. It was almost seven. And you haven’t started the process of getting ready. 

“I’m so fucked!” Your neighbors must be hating you by this point, with all the screaming and running around, but you couldn’t help it. You had less than an hour to look presentable. 

Taking the dress off, you hurried to the bathroom, grabbing the essentials along the way. That shower was the shortest— and most effective— one you’ve ever had. You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, but everything was going your way. The body lotion was absorbing well, you didn’t struggle to find your jewelry, or your favorite heels. Even when you were doing your makeup, you didn’t fucked it up, even though your coordination wasn’t the best. Everything was going your way. And just as you were finishing the eyeshadow, your phone buzzed. 

✉️ Erling: hello beautiful. i’ll be there in five, can’t wait to see you 🤍       

Your heart raced. The feeling of nervousness didn’t leave your body while you made sure you had everything in your bag or when you walked down the hall and into the elevator. The butterflies in your stomach seemed to be fighting each other on your way to the main entrance, and just when you finally stood outside and your phone buzzed, making you look down at it and then back at the street to see Erling’s face peeking out from an impressive car, did you realize there was nothing to be nervous about. 

“Hello, gorgeous.” He got out of the car, making his way to you in three long strides. “You look beautiful, as always.” His hand reached out to you, like he wanted to touch you, but stopped at the last second. “Ready?” His fingers lingered on one strand of your hair for a few moments before he dropped it. 

“I’m ready.” A smile crept onto your face. Without having a reason to do so, you let your left hand act by itself, caressing his arm for a moment. “You look amazing.” 

And it wasn’t a lie. He was wearing a leather jacket that hugged his shoulders in such a way that you couldn’t stop looking. His outfit was pretty much black on black, with his blue Jordans being the only pop of color. His eyes smiled at you, and you knew you were about to experience the best date ever. 

Because you felt comfortable around him. His hand reached for the small of your back, guiding you to the car as you two chatted, but you didn’t feel his touch invasive. The calm that overcame the nervousness had you smiling as you entered the car, taking in Erling’s scent. It smelled like every single thing you liked in the world combined into one. 

“How was practice?” You asked once he made it behind the wheel. The sight of him driving did things to you, so you had to physically stop yourself from touching him again. “I hope you aren’t too tired.”

“To see you? Never.” His smile was so sweet. Oh, how were you supposed to survive this date? “But training was fine, not as exhausting; I’m getting used to their rhythm.”

“It must be difficult to get used to a whole new team dynamic so quickly.” You didn’t know a lot about football, but you could figure out that much. “Do you miss your old team?”

“Honestly?” He was staring right ahead, but you could see one side of his mouth lifting slightly. “A lot. They were family to me, still are.” He shrugged. “But I had to go; football is like this sometimes. We can’t help it.”

“At least your new teammates are nice.” You stated it, but instantly doubted it. “Right?”

“Yeah, they are! I’ve already made some friends. All of them are good lads, can’t say they’re unwelcoming.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. But again, you’re a lovely guy. It doesn’t surprise me that you’d made friends so fast.” Your cheeks were burning red; once again, your mouth acted by itself. 

“Oh, I’m lovely, eh?” His cheeky smile made you laugh, not giving importance to your embarrassment. “What about you? I haven’t met anyone sweeter than you.“

“Oh, stop!”

“I’m serious! Actually, I have a whole dinner to talk about you in a minute.” You felt the car stop, your eyes going straight to the restaurant to your left. “Wait here.”

“What? Why?” You were so transfixed by the restaurant’s fancy exterior that you didn’t catch why he was asking you to wait. He got out of the car, getting to your door fast enough for you to still be sitting there, clueless.

Then your door opened, with him peeking over it with a tiny smile. 

Oh, god. You weren’t surviving this date at all.

“You are lovely.” You said once you got out, taking the hand he was offering. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.”

Walking to the door, you thought you saw some people taking a double look at Erling. That only reminded you of his fame, but nothing could affect your mood. His hand was warm, and, not surprisingly, big. It engulfed yours in a way that made you smirk.

“Good night. Table for two.” The guy at the reception looked up to him with a blank stare, like his eyes couldn’t believe who he was seeing, before dropping them to the book between his hands. “It’s under Haaland, with a double ‘a’.” 

“Yes, good night, Mr. Haaland... Miss.” He made a slight nod in your direction, looking extremely professional. “Right this way.” He guided you inside the place, which was breathtaking with all of the vintage furniture, the crystal chandeliers, and the beautiful flower themed decoration. “Here it is, table for two by the balcony. I’ll lower the curtains if you like.” Then you noticed the table hiding behind a tall balcony window with an unbelievable view of the city. 

You didn’t know what type of guy this whole date made Erling out to be, but whatever that was, you loved it. 

“What do you say? Do you want to lower the curtains?” Erling’s hand touched yours, which was resting on his forearm, making you wake up from the trance you were in while admiring your surroundings. 

“I… Sure, let’s lower the curtains.” If that means more privacy, then you’ll take it. 

“Very well. Please take a seat while I make the final arrangements for your stay.” The man finally left, making the curtains fall, isolating you both from the rest of the place. 

What was left was the view of the city, and Erling. 

“This is so quiet.” You said, feeling the breeze on your hair. “I like it.”

“I thought you might like it.” You both kept staring right ahead for a few seconds before taking a seat, facing each other with the smile you only wore on your first date with someone. It was shy, sweet, and full of hope. “I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t think you were going to say yes at all.” 

“Really? Why?” There was no way he doubted it. How was that possible? 

“You were just… so sweet. I didn’t think you’d say yes to a complete stranger. I was hoping for the best.” His smile was mesmerizing. “I was lucky enough to catch your attention.” 

“It was the broad shoulders, actually.” You enjoyed watching his eyes almost disappear while he laughed at your words. “And the long blonde hair.” 

“Were they? Damn, I wish I knew that earlier.” His laugh was so contagious. You liked it a lot. 

“Good night. Sorry to interrupt. Are you open to seeing the menu?” A waiter appeared on the curtain’s edge with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You understood his expression all too well; he was tired. He handed you the menus with soft movements before placing his hands close to his body. “Please let me know if you’ll like anything in particular; I’ll be within earshot.” Before you could say “thanks”, he had already disappeared. 

“What are you in the mood to drink?” Erling asked, eyeing the menu with interest. “Do you like wine?”

“Only if it’s sweet.” You eyed the menu too, disturbed by the fact that there weren’t any prices listed. What kind of restaurant didn’t have their prices on the menu?

“Well, that’s a deal then. Do you want anything else? Water? An appetizer?” You blinked at the question, not knowing what to do. He could surely afford anything on the menu since he brought you here, but it was still… weird. 

“What about the unpronounceable one with the French name that, apparently, has salmon?” You both laughed at your suggestion, your cheeks going a bit red because it was evident you’d never step foot in a restaurant this fancy. 

“I actually love the idea of eating something that I don’t have the slightest idea of what it has inside.” He leaned over the menu, giving you a look that made your smile wider. “You aren’t allergic to anything in particular, right?” 

“Not at all.” You leaned as well, enjoying the proximity. 

“Perfect then. Weird french appetizer it is! Waiter?” 

The guy appeared out of nowhere, making you wonder if he was closer than expected. He looked as unimpressed as before, so you figured that it wasn’t the first— nor the last time—- that he’d heard weird things while working. He took your order with a quick nod, not questioning or talking unless either of you asked for something specific. 

“Can I ask if you have already decided on the main course?” 

“Oh, well.” Erling took a quick glance at the menu, shrugging right after. “I’ll have a steak, actually. Rare, with… Uh… The zucchini, carrot, and apple ribbons.” 

“What about you, madam?” 

“I’ll have the lobster tortellini.” You said that with enough confidence to not cringe at yourself. Once the waiter left, you eyed Erling, raising an eyebrow at him until he raised one back at you.

“What?”

“Rare?” You laughed, not wanting to believe that you liked a man who ate rare meat. “You are basically asking for an alive piece of meat on your plate, Erling.”

“Ow, c’mon! All the good stuff goes away if you cook it!” 

“You can’t be serious!” You liked feeling like you could mess with him. “I’m not taking any of your food opinions seriously if you think that.”

“Oh yeah? Then it doesn’t matter what I think about your food?” His cocky grin made you blush, but you stood your ground.

“That’s very different, you know! My food is amazing.”

“Excuse me, would you like to try the wine first?” The waiter appeared out of nowhere, startling you both.

“Sure thing, we want to get drunk. Don’t we, dear?”

That didn’t take a reaction out of the waiter, but it made you laugh, so Erling kept making silly comments throughout the dinner until the poor guy seemed done with life in general.

You didn’t remember having that much fun on a date since… ever.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Have a lovely evening. Please, come back anytime.” The waiter gave you a smile wider than the universe; apparently, it only took a good tip for him to actually show emotion and suddenly like Erling’s jokes.

You both giggled on your way out, Erling’s jacket covering your shoulders as you both walked slowly to the main entrance, red-faced from the bottle of wine and full of food that you still didn’t have the slightest idea of what it was. Your hand was back on his forearm, his tall figure feeling warm against your arm as you followed him. 

“I dunno if it would be a good idea to drive right now.” He said once outside, his eyes wandering on his car. “But what else can we do? It’s midnight.”

You both stared at the car for a good minute before giggling nonstop, finding somehow funny how neither of you could drive right now. You were basically stuck there, but it felt like a good thing.

“Maybe we can walk around that park over there?” The idea came suddenly, since it was only now, at the peak of your semi-drunk state, that you noticed the beautiful park a few meters away. “We are not that drunk, so we should be able to walk like normal people… Right?” You looked up to him, catching his pleased smile just in time before he turned his head to look at the park’s direction. 

“We are not, beautiful. But we could walk, of course. Any time to add to this date if a yes to me.”

“You’re so cheeky.” You laughed, loving the feeling of being wanted and appreciated by this man.

You were both tipsy, and one good thing about you being tipsy was that your shyness faded away, leaving your truth, and sometimes unhinged, thoughts to come out. 

“I love this idea.” He said, guiding you across the almost deserted street. “There isn’t anything more romantic than walking around a park at night.”

“This totally feels like a romcom.” You were wearing his jacket, a cute dress, and walking around a park next to a guy that made you feel like you were floating. He was right. This was romantic.

“Is that a good thing?” He seemed slightly worried, which made you smile even more. 

“I love romcoms, Erling.”

You both shared a brief stare, and you felt the electricity run between the two of you. Your skin exploded in goosebumps, and you suddenly remembered he was there, he was real and you were on a date. 

Was he going to kiss you?

“I can’t stop saying how beautiful you look tonight.” He whispered, your steps slowly coming to a halt. His hand reached for your face, and this time, he didn’t stop until his fingers were touching your hair. 

You didn’t say a word, scared of fucking up the moment. You felt your heart beating so hard that you feared it would be noticeable while he kept staring down at you like you were the only person in the world. It was melting you. 

“Erling…” You finally said, reaching for his hand, your fingers exploring the back of it, not knowing what to expect from the kiss that was most definitely coming. 

“Can I kiss you?” He murmured, already looking at your lips with such intensity that it took your breath away. 

“Yes…” 

Once your lips met, your bodies followed. Your hands went for his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt feeling soft against your palms as you held on to them. You felt his hands grabbing your waist, pushing your body against his softly. His lips were soft, warm, amazing. You didn’t recall sharing a kiss on a first date that felt like this. It was so cliche, yet so good.

This was the best kiss you’ve ever had. He was kissing you like it was the best kiss he’d ever had. 

You aren’t surviving this. At all.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * ERLING’S TAGLIST — 

@questionable-behaviour | @koufaxx | @xjval | @nikki01234 | @evarasworld | @kynykyny | @alleyahah | @444pantheress | @football4life9 | @f1lover55 | @frankcastleonlyfans | @ironmaiden1313 | @pizzapie349 | @may-machin | @squirreljoe

[writersblog20]

Let’s start the Narcos off at episode one

Pedro Pascal x female reader

Summary: In moments of crisis, Pedro always finds his way to cheer you up. Sharing the same love for SZA, obviously helping with that….

Warnings: FIRST half of the story:  Grief, loss of a family member, mention to a toxic family, mention of trauma, crying, FLUFF, Next half of the story: Pedro being an angel/sunshine as always, quick mention of smoking weed, maybe hints to romantic feelings, petnames, 

Words: 4K

A/N: I do not consent to copying, translating and/or reposting my story on

Let’s start the Narcos off at episode one

It was a tough day today. It was the funeral of your uncle and your ‘family’ had kicked you out, right before you got to say your goodbyes to your uncle. You were indecisive of what to do now. Go with your mom to the church or not. So like I said, a difficult day and all you wanted was your Pedge. Aka Pedro Pascal. You’ve became very close after filming together and when things got rough, he was always there for you with open arms.

After a conversation with your mom, you made the unbearable decision to stay home. You just couldn’t do it after what they’ve done to you. you had to protect your inner child and this was one of the most difficult decisions to make and there was no good in whatever you decided to choose. So you choose the thing that would protect you even though you couldn’t say your goodbyes.

Your mom left and you were a sobbing mess. Unable to stop crying, knowing that it was going on right now and you felt so extremely alone, it was out of this world. So the only thing you could do was cry right now. Not only did you lose your uncle, you’ve lost your, what you thought was, family the same day. And here you were right now. all alone in your own misery and grief. And boy, the grief was huge, not even being able to get closure as they took that from you as well. ‘

You heard your doorbell and your alarm bells went off and you felt a pit in your stomach at the possibility of more pain if it was one of your family member (If they were already done in the church). With heavy feet, you walked to the door, trying to wipe away the tears but to no avail. You opened your door and much to your surprise, Pedro was standing on your doorstep with some bags and a sympathetic look on his face. As if his heart broke into a million pieces by seeing you like this.

“you didn’t really think I was going to leave you alone in such a time like this, did you?” he gave you a soft and loving smile. You felt your eyes water and quickly put your arms around him. “Oh baby girl, I’m so sorry.” He told you while holding the back of your head for comfort. You just sobbed into his chest, feeling relieved that somebody cared and came to you. Pedro carefully stepped forward so he could close the door for more privacy. He placed his arm around your shoulder and stepped inside your house. He placed his bags on the ground and sat on your couch with you so you could just throw it all out.

His arm went underneath your legs and he pulled them over his lap so you could be more comfortable as he cuddled you. You finally felt safe and secured from the evil world outside because of how Pedro held you and gave you the time to let it all out since you were a sobbing mess right now. The pain started to feel unbearable. Pedro’s heart broke the moment he saw you breakdown. He couldn’t help it but cry for you as well. The pain so huge that he could feel it from you. Pedro wiped his tears away and pulled you in even tighter in a strong hug. As if he tried to glue all the broken pieces  together. “I’m so sorry baby girl. I’m so so sorry this happened to you. You never deserved any of this in contrary, you deserve the whole entire world.” Pedro wiped away his tears before you could see it but you saw how his eyes started to water and how his voice softly broke. You both held each other until you finally calmed down. You felt mentally so exhausted and had for obvious reasons, a major headache. The door went open and your mom stepped inside your house. She knew how close you and Pedro were and you saw her let out a sigh from relief that you weren’t alone and Pedro was taking care of you.

Pedro moved your legs for a moment so he could stand up and gave your mom a hand. “My deepest condolences.” He told her sincerely and she gave him a soft smile, it was obvious it wasn’t a real one but she wanted to be polite. She walked over to you and gave you a hug.

You all had a cup of coffee and heard about the drama in church. How a part of the family had your back and the other, despised you. It was hard to even hear it. You never did anything wrong. Always the good girl because you wanted to be loved so bad, wanted a family so bad that you would take anything. Even if that meant that you were treated so shitty. But this crossed your line and you were done with it all. You finally saw them for who they were and never in your live do you want to be associated with people so toxic like them. Maybe it was a good thing after all.

While your mom explained some things that happened, Pedro kept a close eye on you. You were an open book for him so he could tell that this hurt you in a lot of ways. When your mom left, she looked at Pedro. “You’ll make sure she’s alright, right?” Pedro nodded profoundly. “Yes, of course I will ma’am! If I don’t trust it, I’ll make sure to call you.” he told her. She chuckled “Just call me Y/M/N. And thank you. For everything!”

Pedro smiled “No problem! It’s my pleasure, really.” And with that your mom left. Pedro walked over to you and pulled you into a hug after the hard information you just heard. You were cleaning up the kitchen just so you could do something while the tears started to slip again but silently this time. Pedro kissed the top of your head and pulled you out of the hug. His hands on your waist, hinting for you to jump on the kitchen counter. “I need you to listen carefully to me, okay baby girl?” he made eye contact with you and gently wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I need you to know how strong you are. Because baby, you don’t search for the light in a dark tunnel. YOU are that light. And we need people like you, who carry the light for people who are in the dark. You sweetheart, help people just by being the real you. You are a sunshine, even after everything that happened, you still shine. You can lift a city with the pain that you have to carry right now and it’s nearly impossible. Yet, you still carry it and take care of yourself. Do you know how strong you are for doing that? Not a lot of people can pull off, what you are pulling off right now. We need you. I need you, the world needs you, who knows how to find light in the most darkest and longest tunnel. You are that person baby girl. You hold up that light for others who can’t seem to find the light! I know you did it for me in my darker days. You showed me the light and you did that for so many other people, even though you have to carry the pain of the world on your shoulders right now. That’s impressive, hell, that’s strength from out of this world and I am so, so incredibly proud of you. Of the person who you are and the things that you do. You keep surprising me with your strength and I need you to know… People see the strength you have. They are scared of you because you are so much stronger and see through bullshit with ease, and trust me, those people, have a LOT of bullshit. They’re scared of you and your strength but don’t you dare to dim that light of yours because of them.”

You teared up at his words. You finally felt seen, heard and acknowledged for who you really are. You put your arms around his shoulders and hugged him. “Thank you Pedge! You have no idea how much that means to me.” you started to feel more empowered. Like you cut the cords with all the negative and let that flow out of your life. “I truly mean that, baby girl.” You smiled, and for the first time in weeks, a genuine smile. “I know. Thank you Pedge.” You let go of Pedro and he kissed your cheek, making you feel flustered and shy. He could see that you felt a bit lighter than before and it made him even more proud of you. He knew it was going to take a while with ups and downs but the fact that you even had a up now, was something he didn’t see coming. It was like you shrugged it off now and continued like you always did.

You jumped off the counter and Pedro just looked mesmerized at you while you cleaned up a bit more. “I have so much admiration for you, you have no idea. I wish I had just a bit of the strength you carry.” He told you honestly. You smiled softly “Pedge, you have no idea how strong you are, yourself. Don’t forget that I learned a lot from you, including being a sunshine. My life got better the moment you stepped in. so thank you for that and I really need you to don’t forget how strong you are yourself okay?” Pedro smiled and blushed a little, unable to make eye contact right now from feeling praised.

He finally looked up at you, eyes watery, clearly a bit emotional what you told him. “Stop, you’re making me emotional.” He chuckled through his tears. This time you walked up to him and pulled him in a hug. “We’ll get through this together.” He told you. “And we’ll get through, whatever life throws at us. We always do.” You told him and you saw him wipe away some tears of his own. “C’me here.” He told you and cupped your cheeks. “I love you!” he told you and pulled closer so he could kiss your forehead, lingering his lips there for a bit. “I love you too, Pegde.” You told him as you softly held onto his wrist that cupped your cheek.

“I actually got a surprise for you but I don’t know if you’re up for it, but I thought it might be nice to go together.” He told you and gave you an envelope. You looked quizzingly at him. “Still for your birthday and something to cheer you up hopefully.” He told you a bit nervous as he scratched his head. You smiled and opened the envelope, only to see two VIP tickets for SZA. You looked in shock at Pedro. “Is this serious?” you held your breath unknowingly in.

Pedro couldn’t really read you right now and his nerves got even bigger. “Yeah…. Do you like it?”  he asked you carefully, afraid of the answer you gave him. “Like it? I love it!!!!” you exclaimed and hugged him tightly.  “Let’s get dressed! What are you waiting for? Let’s go!” you told him excitingly and ran upstairs. Pedro chuckled and was proud to make you happy in such a disaster of a week. Pedro quickly followed you with his bags.

You and Pedro shared the love for SZA. You always loved to listen to her and definitely when you smoked some weed. But now you got to hear the music live with your favorite person in the whole entire world. “Can you help me pick out my outfit?” you questioned when you poked your head around the door. Pedro chuckled and smiled at your enthusiasm. “Of course! I’d love to!”

You and Pedro stood next to each other in front of your wardrobe. “You know what, I might have something for you that you could wear tonight.” He told you “Stay here and close your eyes sweetheart.” You felt excitement flow through your body as you closed your eyes.

Pedro came back “Okay, open your eyes.” you blinked a couple of times to get your vision back and saw that he was holding a gorgeous dress in front of him, for you. “I went to your favorite store to get the dress you’ve been eyeing for a while and thought that this was the perfect time for the perfect occasion.” You smiled as bright as the sun, infecting Pedro with your happiness. “And I got you some DR. Martens to go with the dress.” He told you as he nodded next to him, towards the new shoes. You smiled happily and hugged him again. “I can’t believe you did this all for me. I can’t thank you enough!” Pedro smiled “It’s okay! Like I said, you deserve the world and some cheering up now.” you chuckled “Well, it definitely worked, thank you Pegde.” He smiled and gave you some room to change and so he could get changed as well.

You got into the dress and the shoes. You knew you were going to get blisters from the shoes but it was worth it. You did your make-up and looked in the mirror. For the first time, in a long time, you felt confident and happy in your own body. You felt sexy in the dress and just round and about happy with how you looked right now. You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face when you excited your room to show Pedro your outfit.

He was already waiting patiently downstairs as he scrolled through his phone. He looked up the moment he saw you and his mouth hang open. “You look absolutely incredible.” He told you with lights in his eyes as he got up and walked towards you, his hands on your arms and gave you a delicate kiss on your cheeks, as not to ruin any make-up. “My god, you look gorgeous.” He told you again as he scanned you up and down, making you feel flustered. “Well, you look quite handsome yourself!” you told him making him giggle and blush as he readjusted his glasses onto his nose. You smiled at how cute he was right now.

Pedro’s phone went off that the taxi driver arrived at your place. He showed you his phone. “Just on time. You ready gorgeous?” he asked you, making you smile. “More than ever! Let’s go!” Pedro smiled and followed you to the cab and opened the door so you could get in. You softly thanked him and got in. Pedro sat closely next to you. Pedro looked at you and the smile you couldn’t contain.

When you finally arrived, you got out and Pedro held your hand as you got led into a different door. The tickets got scanned and 2 guys from the security escorted you to the area. You heard people scream Pedro’s name and you looked at him with a smile on your face while he had a big smile on his face. He squeezed your hand a bit tighter, probably from nerves. You squeezed softly back that you were there. He looked at you when you squeezed his hand and smiled softly at you which you duplicated.

You finally arrived at the area. You and Pedro cheered with your drinks and took some pictures before the concert started. “Thank you Pedge, really for everything and always cheering me up. Thank you.” Pedro smiled shyly “You welcome sweetheart. You know that right?” he was flustered at your words and it was the cutest thing ever. He took your hand in his and kissed the back of your hand gently with a soft smile before the lights started to dim and people started screaming.

You could still see Pedro from the stage lights, illuminating his face. His smile ever so bright, intoxicating you as you smiled brightly as well and started cheering along. You sang all the songs along and when Drew Barrymore started you looked excitingly at Pedro and got your phone out. You got it into selfie mode and started filming. Pedro singing along in the camera with the lyrics :”Somebody get the tacos. Somebody spark a blunt. Let’s start the Narcos off at episode one” You both screamed out and laughed after. You ended the video in a fit of laughter with Pedro.

You finished singing the song along and both cheered loudly when the song ended. You had a blast throughout the evening. Both singing your voices away and dancing together. It was one of the best nights in a very long time. You both pouted when it ended but still very much awake and happy, chatting about the concert. 2 security guys came back to escort you out and you both held hands again, walking towards the exit until Pedro let go of your hand. “Wait, I have to go to the bathroom real quick but I’ll be back in a sec!” he told you and the guys, already walking off. You frowned a bit but decided not to question it and wait.

Pedro came back but held something behind his back. You tried to look but Pedro didn’t let you as he swung his arm around your shoulder and led you towards the exit. The taxi driver was already waiting and he opened the door for you again. You smiled and again, softly thanked him as you got into the car, Pedro next to you. You started to get more tired so you slouched a bit into Pedro’s side and let your head rest on his shoulder. You felt that Pedro leaned his head against yours too. You smiled softly to yourself and closed your eyes for a second, just focusing on his touch.

“Baby girl, wake up” you heard Pedro softly say as if not to scare you. You didn’t realize that you fell asleep. “Oh shit, sorry.” Pedro smiled “It’s okay, don’t worry sweetheart. Let’s go inside.” He helped you out of the car since you were still groggy from sleep. He got the keys from your hands and opened the door for you. You stepped inside of your house and put on the kettle for tea. “I’m going to get into comfortable clothes.” You told Pedro. “Wait, I got you something.” He told you with a soft smile as he got something from behind his back. A smile started to creep up on your face as you saw that he held a hoodie. You got it from his hands and saw that it was a hoodie from SZA. You looked back up at him with the brightest smile. “Got it when I said that I needed to go to the toilet.” He smiled, making you chuckle. “Thank you! I really can’t thank you enough for everything.” Pedro laughed as he held you into a hug. “Baby, stop thanking me. I want to do it.” you smiled and shrugged. “And I will always keep thanking you for it.” Pedro chuckled. “Love you too princess.” He told you and let go of the hug, seeing the big smile on your face. “Love you too Pedge.”

You got upstairs and took the dress off, stepping inside of joggings and put the hoodie on. He got it one size bigger, knowing you liked oversized hoodies. You smiled at the small detail that he remembered. You walked out and took your make-up off, putting your skincare on. When you were done, you walked downstairs and saw Pedro already chilling on the couch with comfortable clothes. He smiled when he saw you wearing the hoodie. “I really like it” you told him with a smile while you made tea. Pedro smiled. “I’m glad.” He told you with a smile.

You got a cup of tea for Pedro and yourself and plopped on the couch next to him. You had posted the video of you and Pedro online and some websites used it. He showed you an article which he found funny. You let your body rest against his side. Your head resting on his chest while he held the phone. You chuckled “Yeah you’re right, that is indeed funny.” Pedro put his phone aside and went with his fingertips over your sculp. He started massaging your head softly, putting pressure on the sore spots as he worked his way down to your neck. “How’d you know?” you asked him while you leaned more against his touch. “You started moving your neck and shoulders more.” he told you, concentrating on removing the headache. “Sit between my legs sweetheart.” Pedro helped you get up because you could get dizzy from the massage and helped you sit down again. Your back resting against his chest, completely molding into his body.

“You okay sweetheart?” he asked you and you softly nodded “Yeah, because of you.” Pedro smiled out of your sight from your words. You were very tense, not very surprising since all the events earlier but still. Way too tense for his liking but it needed time for you to relax. “I need to do this more often. You’re way too tense. It’s going to take a while to ease the muscles.” You nodded and let out a soft: “Okay”.

He softly rubbed your shoulders and neck where he just massaged you so it would get less sore and stay warm. He got your hoodie more up so your neck was covered and would, indeed stay warm.  He kissed your covered shoulder and you handed him his tea, while sipping yours. You let your back rest against his chest again. Pedro softly rubbed your arm with his hand as you both sat in comfort.

After tea and watching some things back from the concert, you decided to go to bed. You let out a yawn and Pedro smiled lovingly. You both got freshened up and before

Pedro could walk into the other room, you stopped him. “Can you maybe stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone yet.” Pedro didn’t say anything, he just smiled and walked behind you to your room. You both crawled into bed and got comfortable. You cuddled together and you felt so calm and relaxed. It almost felt like you just got out of a spa day. You cuddled more into Pedro’s’ side with a smile. “You comfy baby girl?” he whispered. He could feel you smile on his chest. “Yeah, very much. You?” “Me too. Goodnight princess.” You could feel his arms tighten a bit around you. “Goodnight Pedge.” Your eyes, already closed and sleep wasn’t far behind. After that massage Pedro gave you, you felt even more lighter than before and with that, more fuzzy and sleepy and you knew this was going to be the best night of sleep that you had in weeks.

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #1

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (18+)

AN: The "Bonus Tracks" have arrived! AKA: Sequels to “Never Say Goodbye.”

I have two parts in the wings for you, but let's start with Part 1...

Word Count: 4,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, supernatural shenanigans, death, cavity-inducing fluff (all to come through Parts 1 & 2)

Bonus Track #1: Disturbing the Peace

Dean walked into the bullpen of the Sioux Falls Police Department with a file in hand.

He went into one of the holding cells, where his latest perp was waiting for him with a salty attitude and an untouched paper cup filled with water.

“Jessie Deluca. Thirteen years old, already with two priors for petty theft,” Dean read off the file.

“Wasn’t me,” the kid said coolly.

Dean flashed Jessie a wry smile and sat across from him at the table.

“Sticking gum in the camera lens is creative, I’ll admit. But the nice old man who owns the 7-Eleven recognized your jacket,” Dean said, gesturing at the kid’s dark red hoodie. “Maybe next time don’t dress like a fire hydrant.”

“Plenty of people could have this jacket. Not like it’s Prada or anything,” said Jessie. He was stubborn, crossing his arms in the way only punk-ass kids could accomplish. “Besides, you’re not allowed to question me without my mom here, dipshit. I’m guessing you’ve been a cop for all of what, five minutes?” 

Dean’s expression flattened into a more wan smile. “Oh, your mom’s on the way. We’re just chattin’.”

“Well I don’t feel like talking to a dumbass plebe,” Jessie quipped, with all due snark.

“All right, kid, listen the hell up,” Dean said more sharply. His gaze tightened with sternness. He glanced behind him, where he suspected your father Jack was watching. Dean was often partnered up with Jody, but she was out sick today. Which meant he had “the hawk” watching his every move.  

Dean leveled the kid with a look.

“Fact is, you’ve got three strikes here, Jessie,” he said. “Now, you were dumb enough to go in with a gun. And we will find where you stashed it.”

Jessie snorted in response.

“…But you’re lucky,” Dean said. “No one got hurt this time. Problem is, at the rate we’re going here, you’re not gonna make it to next time.”

Jessie seemed to pause at that. But after a moment of indecision, he leaned forward on his crossed arms on the table.

“What part of ‘you can’t talk to me’s not getting through your thick head, Hasselhoff?”

Dean frowned, but before he could lose his temper, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked down and realized you were texting him.

Hey, sorry I’m going to be late tonight, you said.

Dean raised a finger at the kid. “I’ll be back.”

Jessie gave him a whatever look. Dean waited until his back was turned to roll his eyes. He exited the holding cell and found Jack on the other side.

“Kid’s a piece of work,” Dean said.

“Remind you of anybody?” Jack asked slyly.

Dean scoffed. “Maybe. I’ll be back, but let me know if his mom shows up.”

Jack nodded, and it gave Dean leave to get back to his desk and call you back. It took you so long to answer that he thought you almost wouldn’t.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted. It brought a small smile to his face.

“Hey. How’s work goin’?”

“It’s ridiculous. Jerry wants fifty new books logged and shelved by the end of the day. And we’re getting a new shipment in tomorrow,” you replied. “…Well, they’re not new. They’re ancient. Transferred from a museum that closed in Boise. But you get the idea.”

Dean’s smile threatened to grow, but it faded when he remembered why he needed to check in on you.

“Is that why you’re getting in late again tonight?” he asked.

“No, I promised I’d help Jason with his applications for grad school,” you said, making Dean frown.

“Who the hell is Jason?”

“Remember? Mrs. Jenkins’ grandson?”

Dean’s frown deepened. “No, that guy? Come on. You already helped him with, uh, cleaning out his grandma’s apartment, right?”

“Yeah, because she died, Dean.”

“Then it was cleaning out his apartment.”

“So he could move into her apartment,” you pointed out. “That he inherited upon her death.”

“And now you’re gonna go over there and share a screen all night?” Dean didn’t like that thought. Not one bit. “I don’t trust him, babe. He’s shifty.”

“Dean,” you tried patiently. “We practically grew up in the neighborhood together. I’m just helping him out because he’s gone through a rough time.”

Dean quieted. He still wasn’t totally on board, but he didn’t want to sound like a needy bitch either.

“All right, whatever,” he said.

“Don’t ‘whatever’ me,” you cajoled. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Right.” Perhaps he was a bit grumpy, but he felt justified. Due to both of your schedules, he hadn’t even shared a meal with you all week.

“Okay, I have to get back to work. Bye!” you said, hanging up shortly after. Dean didn’t have a chance to reply.

He sighed, pocketing his cell.

He returned to Jessie, where he noticed the water cup was now drained.

“Having fun?” he asked the kid.

“About as fun as you look right now. What, fight with your girlfriend?” Jessie sassed.

Dean gave him a flat look.

Jessie smirked. “Ah, definitely a fight.”

Dean sighed. “Wasn’t fight, just…you know what, mind your business.”

He discreetly checked his phone again, seeing if you’d sent him any other messages. But the kid had sharp eyes. He peered over the table at Dean’s background.

It was one he’d taken on his first date with you. Really, he’d surprised you with the picture when you two got to the restaurant.

You were trying to fix your hair after the wind had mussed it up. But at the angle he took it, you looked equal parts adorably confused, playfully amused, and sexy in your black suede dress and wind-swept hair. 

“She’s hot,” Jessie nodded.

“Shut up,” Dean said, locking and pocketing his phone. “What’re you, like twelve? And still stealing Twix at the gas station? Do better, dude.”

“Too hot for you, even,” the kid continued, as if Dean hadn’t spoken. “Probably downloading another guy’s hard drive, if you know what I mean.”

“All right, smartass. That’s enough,” Dean said, with a more irritated frown.

That was when Jack came into the holding cell, escorting a woman inside.

“Jessie’s mother, Ms. Sandy Deluca,” Jack said.

“Just Sandy, please. You don’t have to remind me about the deadbeat I married,” she said, giving Dean a cursory (but appreciative) once-over. He gave her a thin smile.

He had to assume she was in her forties, but she also looked rough, and smelled like the crusty bowels of a bar.

“And you. What the fuck’re you doin’, huh?” Sandy bat her son across the back of her son’s head. Jessie flinched and withdrew inside, more like the child he actually was.

Dean noted all of this, sharing a subtle frown with Jack. Both men sat down across from mother and son and explained that Jessie was suspected of robbing a 7-Eleven at gun point. The owner saw him take off. And at some point, before Dean caught him, the kid managed to toss his gun.

“It’s only a matter of time before we find it. And if the prints match, that’s it,” Jack said. “Jessie gets booked for a felony charge.”

“He ain’t did it though. You don’t even have him on tape,” Sandy said. “All you got is one senile old man.”

She had a point, but not one Jack or Dean were willing to concede.

“If he admits what he did, we can work with him,” said Jack. “Maybe the felony charge gets dropped down to petty theft, and he probably only does a short stint in juvenile detention.” 

Dean stared at Jessie, his thin, boyish face, his sandy brown hair, and shuttered eyes. And maybe Dean saw a bit too much of himself.

He tapped Jack’s elbow beneath the table, earning the man’s attention.

“Well, we’ll let you think on it for a few minutes,” Jack said. He got up along with Dean and headed outside the cell. They were able to look in through the one-way window.

“What’s the matter, Dean?” Jack asked.

“We can’t hold him. Not for long, unless the gun shows up,” Dean pointed out. “He stole, what, thirty bucks in bread, cans of tuna, three Twix bars? He’s a punk, but he’s not a killer. He’s just hungry.”

Jack considered this with a sigh through his nose.

“Yeah. But it’s his third strike on theft. This time he took a piece. Armed robbery, even for a kid…that’s gonna require jail time,” he said.

“Okay, how about this. Why don’t we let him go for now, hook him again when we find the gun?” Dean suggested.

“And maybe we don’t look too hard for it. That what you’re trying to tell me?” Jack asked.

Dean just held the other man’s gaze, leaving the decision up to him. But Jack had come to know his future son-in-law too well for that.

He sighed again. “All right, we’ll let him go. For now. But this is his last chance.”

Dean called his brother on the way home from work, tired, but ultimately in a better mood than he had been after talking to you.

“Hey, Dean.”

“Hey, Sammy. How’s the Big Apple?”

“Musty,” Sam said with a chuckle. “But good. Eileen and I are headed to a Broadway show tonight, to celebrate the end of semester.”

Dean smiled at that. Trust Sam to find his soulmate in a subway station. And trust the universe to land his brother with another hunter.

Or a huntress, as Dean had teased him. A banshee had killed her parents when she was a baby, and had rendered her deaf in the process. A hunter had raised her, and Eileen had continued the family business into adulthood, all the while looking for the creature that had killed her parents.

When she met Sam, however, he of course wanted to help her. He even took a week off school once they tracked the banshee to Lebanon, and helped her kill the thing himself. Now though, Sam had been subtly trying to convince her to retire from the hunting life. To build a life with him.

But, as always with hunters, Eileen seemed wary of fully committing to leave the life she’d always known.

Dean could understand that.

“That’s right! My smart-ass brother got all A’s in lawyer school,” he said. “I should get one of those bumper stickers.”

Sam scoffed. “Right, like you’d tape up the Impala like that.”

Dean grinned. “Anyway, end of semester, huh? That mean you’re coming back home soon?”

“Not this weekend, but the week after. Just in time to help you guys prep for the wedding,” said Sam. “It’s like, what, three weeks out?”

“And counting,” Dean replied. He couldn’t believe it was getting this close either.

“Eileen and I’ll stay with Bobby though. We don’t want to crowd your apartment,” Sam said. “How’s everything going, by the way? How is she?”

Dean huffed. “She’s probably just fine.”

“Probably?” Sam noted. “What’s going on?”

Dean was reluctant to talk about it, but his brother knew him too well to just let it go. He prodded until Dean had no choice but to spill it.

“The wedding’s just got her all over the place. Plus her job’s got her working evening shifts half the week sometimes,” Dean said. “And when she’s not doing that, she’s volunteering herself all over the damn neighborhood…”

Dean chuckled dryly then, realizing how much he sounded like a needy chick right now.

“I don’t know,” he said. “God, I sound like a freakin’ sap.”

“No. It sounds like you miss her,” Sam said.

“Hmm,” Dean nodded. He popped a frozen dinner into the microwave and watched it spin. “Yeah, probably.”

A lot, a voice in his mind corrected. He knew he didn’t have to say it for Sam to get the picture.

“Just tell her how you feel, man,” Sam said. “You know for a fact that there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for you.”

Sharing and caring had never been Dean’s strong suit, by any means, but he knew his brother might have a point this time.

So he waited up for you. For hours.

He started to fall asleep on the couch before he realized what time it was, creeping past midnight. He texted you, called you. It all went unanswered. Dean started worrying long before then, but he tried not to let his mind jump to conclusions.

He cleaned the kitchen and waited. He tried watching the next couple of episodes in season three of Game of Thrones, your favorite show, but couldn’t concentrate on the storylines. He usually had you to explain the complicated plot points and remind him of who’s who. 

So he switched over to Dr. Sexy M.D., which you’d tried not to judge him for. 

But finally, around 1:00 a.m. on a weekday, Dean felt your presence before you pull into the driveway. He was sitting on the couch, and he crossed his arms when you walked in. 

Still, you gave a tired smile when you saw him. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” he responded, but you knew immediately that he was off. You saw the tight look on his face, his tense demeanor. You even caught a glimpse of his emotions before he cut you off…which in itself was a tell that he wasn’t in a good mood.

You frowned and set your purse and work bag next to him on the couch. 

“What’s the matter?” you asked. Dean raised both brows at you, as if he was annoyed that you had to ask. It wasn’t like you could read his mind. 

Well, you could, if he hadn’t closed himself off.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked. 

Your brows knitted at his tone. 

“You know where I was,” you said. “I was helping Jason—”

“You’ve been with that guy at his house all night?”

You tried to give him a patient look, but you were bone tired. And you hadn’t expected to get the third degree from the minute you stepped through the door.

“Dean, I told you. We were working on his applications to grad school, mostly on his entrance essays.”

“And that really took all night, with no breaks?” he asked. Now with a more suspicious brow raise.

“Of course,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I mean, we stopped to eat dinner.”

But then you raised a finger as something occurred to you.

“And oh! He showed me his new motorcycle,” you said, with excitement that he didn’t share. “Dean, you’d freakin’ love it. I can’t remember what model he said it was, but I told him, ‘My fiancée’s a major gear head. He’d love to get a motorcycle.’ But I’d literally die if you made me get on one of those things—”

“So, correct me if I’m wrong,” Dean said, interrupting you as he got up from the couch to stand across from you.

“You spent all night at some guy’s house. You had dinner with him, and he tried to impress you with his new goddamn motorcycle?”

You considered what he was suggesting, and you had to suppress a grimace. Yeah, it did sound bad, but it really wasn’t.

“It wasn’t like that at all, Dean,” you said. “Jason’s just…he’s feeling a bit lost. He wants to continue school, but he’s not sure if he can do it. His grandma practically raised him, and it’s a whole thing—”

“That’s not your damn problem!” Dean said, raising his voice. “You realize that, right?”

You crossed your arms, leveling him with a frown.

“Okay, you need to take that way down,” you warned him.

Dean took a beat, briefly closing his eyes as he reigned himself in.

“I’m sorry, all right,” he said. And he drew a hand over his tired face. “It’s just…lately, for the past few months, it seems like you’re never here. We’re like ships passing in the night. And if I didn’t check in, I’d never fucking hear from you.”

You sighed, staring back at your fiancée with both hot guilt and a prickle of resentment.

“So, do you like how it feels?” you asked.

Dean sharpened. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, welcome to my world, Dean,” you said. “I lived that existence for the first two years of our relationship.”

He couldn’t exactly refute that, but it still hurt to be reminded of what he put you through.

“What, are you doing this on purpose or something?” he asked. “You’re punishing me. Is that it?”

You relented then, reaching for his arm.

“Of course not, Dean,” you said. “I just find it ironic that you can’t handle just a taste of what I went through.”

Dean’s lips pursed.

“Until I finish training our new hires, there isn’t much I can do about what my job demands of me,” you said. “But if you want to help me, how about everything I’m doing to plan this wedding? It’s literally a month away, and there’s plenty to do. I feel like I’m going insane with these vendors calling me 24/7, mostly demanding money.”

You covered your face with your hands for a moment, shaking your head.

“Tomorrow I have my final fitting for the dress, after work,” you said. “This weekend I have to finalize the seating chart, make the final deposit on the venue, and a shit-ton of other things.”

“Okay, well I can help with that,” Dean said, trying to take your hand. “All you need to do is ask.”

You gave him a peeved look.

“You see, I would. But the last time I tried, you said you were working late,” you said. “I called my dad to see where you were. Come to find out, you’d left early.”

Shit, Dean thought. 

“When was that?” he asked.

“Last week, Thursday,” you jogged his memory. 

Shit, he thought again. 

What you didn’t know was that he left early that day to pick up your wedding ring, which he’d had customized for you. But he couldn’t tell you that without giving away the surprise.

“Listen, there’s an explanation for that.”

“Well right now, I don’t feel like hearing it,” you said. You slipped your hand out of his and left him to beeline for the shower.

Dean watched you go, silently simmering. Was this what he had to look forward to when you two actually got married?

You and Dean didn’t even look at one another as you got ready for bed in silence.

You were annoyed that he didn’t trust you. A bit resentful that he chose now to complain about you being busy, when you’d tried so many times to get him to help you with the wedding planning process.

But at the same time, as you two climbed into bed without uttering so much as a word, it felt like you won the battle, but lost the war.

And you didn’t feel any better when you woke up the next morning.

Because when you saw the empty side of the bed next to you, but didn’t hear Dean puttering around the apartment, you realized that he’d left for work without saying goodbye.

He usually greeted you with a kiss on the cheek or the forehead; the best alarm you’d ever had. But today, you were forced to wake with your alarm. So you turned it off on your phone and dutifully got up to get ready for work.

Your mind was buzzing with too much coffee on the drive over to the museum, and when you arrived, your phone sounded off in your purse. You checked it and found a text from Jason Jenkins.

Hey, thanks for coming over to help yesterday, he said. I think I’ll actually get into grad school now. These essays are top notch thanks to you.

Your lips quirked with a smile. You replied as you walked into the museum, waving hello to your boss, Jerry, as you went.

You’re welcome! you replied. Dean’s words from last night replayed in your mind, so you decided to keep it brief. But then, Jason replied again.

But I also had a good time last night, he said. You’re just so easy to talk to…would you want to come over for dinner? I make a mean carbonara.

You deflated when you read the text. Goddamn it.

And you knew then that Dean might’ve had a point last night. With a sigh, you raised your gaze to the heavens. You didn’t have enough coffee to deal with this.

But you knew you had to reply.

Look, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression but—

You paused, then deleted that response. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but maybe you could say something that made your boundaries clear without making him feel bad about himself.

Sorry, Jason. I’m staying in with my fiancée tonight. But good luck! I’m sure you’ll get into grad school.

With that message sent, you pocketed your phone and continued to your desk in the museum library. It was surrounded by tall shelves of books from all over the world, and you often enjoyed perusing through them when you had down time (not that you had much of that these days).

Jerry came in, wheeling a large shipment of boxes. You gave him a wan smile at the sight.

“Delivery,” he said. “Need these books logged and shelved, please. By end of the day, if you can. Oh, and tell Charlotte we need more toner for the copy machine.”

You playfully saluted your boss. “On it.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I know it’s been a lot for the past few months, but you’re doing great, kid.”

You didn’t appreciate the kid remark, but you did thank him graciously. It was nice to be recognized for your work because you did take pride in it. But right now, as you looked at the ten large boxes piled on the dolly, you really wished you could control + alt + delete this day.

Instead, you sighed and opened the first box, pulling out a stack of heavy books. One of them caught your eye, as it was leather-bound, but bordered with gold, and had hieroglyphic images on the cover. The largest of which was a golden sun, encircling a lion’s head.

You weren’t supposed to touch the books without gloves on, but you were so intrigued that you forgot to slip on a pair before you reached for it in wonder.

The moment you touched the cover, however, a burst of energy swirled around the book—and then wrapped around your hand.

You didn’t realize it, but your mind went hazy as amber rings of magic illuminated your pupils.

Dean got home from a long day of work, sighing when he saw that the apartment was empty.

He felt bad for how things got left off between the two of you last night, but frankly, he was surprised (and maybe a little hurt) that you didn’t reach out to him at all today.

Usually when you guys argued, you were the first one to reach out to him after you both had time to cool down. You could be stubborn about things, just like him, but you were also quick to forgive. And that often forced him to confront his honest feelings.

When his phone started ringing, Dean paused in the living room and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, there! Is this Dean?”

“You got me. Who’s this?” he asked. It was the receptionist at the shop where you found your wedding dress. Apparently, you hadn’t shown up for the appointment of your final fitting, and you hadn’t called to reschedule.

“Well, that’s not like her,” Dean said with a frown. You’d never dropped the ball on anything having to do with the wedding. Not once.

“Let me get ahold of her and we’ll get back to you,” he said. The receptionist agreed, and the moment he hung up with her, he called you. It rang for a while, but ultimately went to voicemail.

A tendril of worry started to grow in his mind, but he tried to keep it at bay when he called your boss next.

According to Jerry, you took your lunch break early and never came back.

Dean’s worry became a living thing after that.

But before he could call Jack and mount a full police squad search, the front door of the apartment unlocked, and you walked through the door.

You looked completely fine in your business casual white blouse, pencil skirt, and heels, but you didn’t have your purse, work bag, or any of the usual things you carried.

Dean hung up with your boss and eyed you in disbelief.

“Well, well. I guess you’re playin’ hookie today,” he remarked dryly.

You gave him a cursory glance, but you all but ignored him on your way to the kitchen. Dean’s incredulousness grew, along with a spark of irritation.

He followed you into the kitchen, where you started rifling through the pantry looking for spices and herbs, of all things. You examined a clear parcel of thyme.

“What are you doing, babe?” Dean asked. “Are you tired? Did you just need to take a beat? Because I can understand that…”

You didn’t seem to be hearing him, so he grasped your hand.

“Hey, what the hell’s going on with you?” he asked. Your brows knitted together in annoyance.

“By the gods, what a nuisance.” You slipped your hand out of his and continued what you’re doing. 

Dean felt struck with hurt as he stared at you once again in disbelief.

But then, a spidey sense began to prickle at the back of his neck. This wasn’t like you at all…

You finally seized him up through impassive eyes.

“Pretty,” you remarked, “but the world of men seems to have remained the same. Needy, clawing, and pathetic.”

Dean’s brows furrowed. He called your name uncertainly, but he realized something.

He couldn’t feel you. Not your thoughts, and not even your emotions through the soul bond. It was a gut instinct, but Dean's was rarely wrong.

Whoever was wearing your face, it wasn’t his girl.

You smirked and stepped toward him, drawing near enough to place a hand on his chest. He tensed, knowing that this wasn’t about to end well. 

With a burst of amber-hued magic, you flung him across the room. 

Dean crash-landed against the couch with a yelp and a grunt. He’d definitely be feeling that in his back later. 

He heard the crashing of glass and ceramics hitting the hardwood floor after he fell. When he was able to slowly pick himself up, he saw that he’d shoved the couch into the coffee table, where a vase and a few frames had fallen.

And when he managed to lift his gaze to the rest of his surroundings, he found an empty apartment. The front door was left ajar.

You were gone… 

Or at least, whoever possessed you was.

AN: So first of all, sorry for the cliffhanger lol. But Sam's soulmate is revealed! (I was VERY upset when Sam and Eileen didn't get their reunion when Jack brought back everyone after the "snap.")

Like my top note said, this will be two parts. Let me know what you think of Part 1!

Next Time:

Dean searches for you with Sam, Eileen, and Bobby's help. But there's just a few weeks before the wedding.

What could possibly go wrong?

Keep Reading: Bonus Track #2

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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@curlycarley @buckywenal24 @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @irgendwas122 @deans-spinster-witch @dogbarkbark4445 @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1 @icequeen1371 @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @shadowcrowsworld @thespnlover @this-is-me19 @stevenknightmarc @leigh70 @pallographsunspot @syrma-sensei @brain-has-left @jassackles @hobby27 @ashbatz @zaratahir @lokisnumber1whore @saranghaey @jori21 @lillyrob @adoringanakin @agirlwithdemonblood @mimaria420 @nephil-with-a-gun @writethrough @iamsapphine

[katebeckets]

fun fact i’m asking about your jewellery please do share

bestie thank you for asking me!! (i know this is like a month old, it made me happy knowing it was here and i wanted to take time to answer lol)

i was thinking about this a lot yesterday as I wrote my first fic because i kept laughing, thinking "of course this is what I write about" given my own personal attachment to jewelry. in fact, the song I titled the fic after ("Mine" by Phoebe Ryan) kind of speaks to why I love jewelry so much.

the main point of it is that all my day-to-day jewelry is symbolic! in some ways, it started because I always loved the idea of tattoos, but I'm pretty indecisive to begin with (and my grandparents don't like tattoos, which doesn't mean I won't ever get a tattoo but there was never a tattoo I felt strongly about getting right this moment). I really liked the idea of having tangible reminders of things so I could look at my rings or bracelets or put my hand over my necklace and be reminded of whatever the jewelry was symbolizing. it also has some significance to how I've grown and changed over time.

the rest of the story + pictures/examples will be under the cut <3 (warning that my face might be in some lol I'm just using what's already on my camera roll)

🩵

I mostly have rings and necklaces, which I've been wearing since high school. My bracelets are kind of the key to this story because of the fact that I never wore bracelets until I got a specific bracelet in 2018, but after I got that one bracelet, I have never gone without them since.

Basically, I had a very hard goodbye in 2018, and I wanted to get a piece of jewelry to remind me of that person. I usually would go with a necklace, but I didn't want to have to choose between my new necklace and other symbolic necklaces I have. That's how I decided on a bracelet. Since I never wore any bracelets, I'd never have to choose. I now have 5 bracelets that I never take off (and it's fluctuated in the years since 2018, I think the most I've had at once that are constantly on my wrist is 8?). So it felt symbolic not only because of it being a bracelet, but because there are people that came into my life since then that are very important to me and have never known me without my bracelets, yet the person who is the reason I wear bracelets never knew me as someone who wore bracelets (and I think in my head it became more symbolic because it wasn't gradual, either). So. Here are a million pics! There are fandom ones at the end that are fun (I think)

bracelets

[left] the bracelet that started it all. it has gone through many iterations, mostly to the one on the right so that I could start adding more bracelets. [right] on the right there's also pearl and tanzanite (tanzanite is my favorite), a bracelet that says "hang in there" with a semicolon (an inside joke with someone important to me, and I used to be a gymnast so the irony of "hang in there" on a bar bracelet made me smile), and the butterfly one is from my younger sister.

[left] the colorful bracelet is from my best friend. it's rose gold, so I put it on my right hand and started getting more rose gold/mixed rose gold and gold jewelry. the North Star was part of a gift (I gave someone a matching one) and is an homage to If/Then: "you're my North Star, my map to grace." [middle] I have a ton of morse code jewelry now because then I could put names or phrases without people asking me about it. some phrases/names I have: Amber, Bernadette, I will if you will, everything changes, even now. the heart is a handwritten piece of jewelry. [right] this one shows my garden bracelet! The Language of Flowers is my favorite book, so I use my favorite flower dictionaries to choose flowers based on meaning, which is why I have a lot of flower jewelry. The bracelet has peony, snowdrop, poppy, daisy, and baby's breath.

[left] new bracelets are a cremation bracelet with some of my grandmother's ashes and one with stones representing the asexual pride flag. [right] I gave a matching "E" bracelet to a client a few years ago when we said goodbye and I read The Invisible String. The bottom is a variation of a morse code bracelet.

rings

[left] tanzanite with oak leaves! tanzanite is my favorite but can also be a december birthstone. one of the meanings of my focal child's name (a baby I became really close with when I did my case study for my minor) is strength, which is the meaning of oak leaves. [middle] my current therapist's name is Amber. [right] it's hard to tell, but the stone is pink! I got it when I graduated undergrad because it meant saying goodbye to the Pink Room (infant classroom where I worked).

fandom

[criminal minds] emily prentiss inspired earrings

[ant man & the wasp] hope van dyne inspired necklace

[wicked] wicked day last year: glinda bubble necklace, ring that reminds me of glinda's wand, watermelon tourmaline ring

the x-files [left] scully inspired cross necklace [middle] bee & disk that says "believe" (getting a sunflower one that I'll probably add or trade out with the bee to be more consistent with my other necklaces) [right] x pendant

[castle, left] rose (flowers in Beckett's wedding bouquet, 7x06; various meanings) and Beckett's badge number [the mentalist, right] orchid, date I joined tmsource

one I want to see if anyone can guess if you get this far! 😆