#how she feels the constant processing and the feeling over never being able to catch up is why autistic people kill themselves

[bigmeansweatydyke]

google search how to stop being so autistic because i'm apparently ruining my friendships by acting like an asshole and having no idea and i'm already so fucking exhausted

[txtaetertots]

HOPELESSLY DEVOTED 62: the last curtain call

[ synopsis ] you’re trying to get into your dream school. beomgyu’s just trying to pass a class. the only way to ensure you both get what you want is to work together. very closely.

taglist (CLOSED): @heyanonymous123 @flrtsbin @anonella22 @chocorenchin @gyuszie @flowerbe0m @kaikamalover @n034sy @iactaid @suzirumas @pupkashi @choi-beomgyulvr @hearts4hanni @naveries @wccycc @wonioml @burminq @a55hie @wildesreblogs @kaewonie @online--princess @alixox @minkyungseokie @moa4lifeee @yeehawnana @peakaboostuff @txtistheloml @sieuneo @weyrrii @cookiehaos @vianna99 @akari-saka13 @crystal-jellies @veryjeongintxtkid @reiloml @mystiicturtle @sirpoopsalot @certifiedmoa @l0ve-joy @woncheecks @hellohuening @rainbowszi @yeonie137 @neoculturewhat @solstramaii @tocupid @cha0thicpisces @koeuh @iwaplant @lemons4u

Just as quickly as the spring production started, it came to an abrupt, deafening close. The cast and senior crew members lined the stage for their final bow, bathing in the cheers from their friends, family, and peers. Their last high school show truly encapsulated the dramatics, making it one to never forget. Some found it amusing while others found it rather traumatizing. It all depended on which end of the fire they were on, and YN found herself in the unique position of being in the center of it all.

Her ears were ringing, her body stiff and cold with sweat. YN couldn’t enjoy her last production because of how high the stakes were from the very start. It was bittersweet. She smiled brightly once more before taking a step forward and basking in the spotlight, relishing the moment while it lasted.

Drama club was the highlight of YN’s high school years. Despite the constant head-butting with Ahn Soojung or the tears she spent over learning her parts and attending every rehearsal while maintaining a top 20 academic performance. Drama club meant everything to her. It’s where she met some of her lifelong friends. It’s where she met the boy of her dreams. It was hard at times to persevere, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Although her senior production was made difficult from the very beginning, she loved it for what it gave her. She didn’t think there was anything left for drama club to teach her after four years, but of course, it always knew how to surprise her. This was the year she learned what it meant to be courageous and fight for her honor. This was the year she learned to embrace spontaneity and open her heart.

YN stepped back, joining the rest of her cast mates once more, and watched the curtains of her high school stage close for the last time. As soon as the gap was dimmed, she felt herself suddenly lifted by her waist and immediately brought into a tight hug—a hug she recognized far too well as one of Beomgyu’s tender bear hugs.

Beomgyu beamed as he looked down at the smile on YN’s face, hands resting at her waist holding her close. Despite the chaos behind them—people crying, celebrating, hugging, running backstage, etc.—Beomgyu could only focus on YN’s glassy eyes and the feeling of her heart beating roughly against her back.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said softly, gazing into her eyes and watching how they smiled with the curve of her lips. “You worked so hard for this show and were so amazing from beginning to end.”

YN crashed herself into Beomgyu’s chest, tightening her arms around his waist. Her throat felt tight, trying to suppress the tears threatening to fall. The emotions were overwhelming, too many at once to process. Happiness from completing her final high school show, but also sadness from realizing it was all over. Relief over surviving the hell course since auditions, but disappointment remembering all the memories she’s been able to create with Beomgyu during the season stop here. But, it doesn’t mean they can’t make more in other sectors of life…

“Ahem,” Someone cleared their throat, trying to catch the couple’s attention.

YN and Beomgyu separated from each other, looking to the source of the sound and immediately lunging toward the familiar figure before them.

“Yeonjun!” They exclaimed, pulling the startled boy into their arms and squeezing him like they’d been reunited at last after years apart.

Yeonjun couldn’t hold back his grin, happily accepting the overwhelming amount of affection that he knew he would receive from the others as well. Once they stepped back, giving him his space once more, Yeonjun held out the now slightly crushed bouquet of flowers for YN to take.

“I wanted to congratulate you on a great performance this week,” he said softly, hands awkwardly stuffing into his pockets. “I also wanted to apologize for being kind of a dick lately. I caused a lot of distress, especially for you, Beomgyu, and I want you to know I’m really sorry.”

Beomgyu shook his head, immediately pulling Yeonjun back in for a tight hug. “We already went over this, hyung. It wasn’t all your fault.”

“Yeah, but,” Yeonjun tightened his grip, “I still hurt you.”

“You did,” Beomgyu sighed. “But, I forgive you. I wish you could forgive yourself, too.”

“Eventually,” Yeonjun said, giving Beomgyu a smile of reassurance. “But for now, I’m just gonna wallow until I make it up to you guys.”

“YEONJUN?!”

Yeonjun whipped his body around, startled by the sudden high-pitched call. Before he could even scan the room, he was hit by what felt like a truck and stumbled back onto the ground. Two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around him, pinning him down and practically suffocating him. It took a minute for him to process who it was, but as soon as it dawned on him, he returned the hugs tenfold. He laughed noticing the fake crying Taehyun and Kai were doing as they latched themselves onto him like they used to when they were kids.

“I thought you hated us,” Kai confessed.

“I could never hate you guys,” Yeonjun reassured. “I’m sorry, I just needed to process stuff on my own for a bit.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Taehyun said. “We understand. We’re just glad you’re better now.”

YN stood smiling, watching the boys catch up and finally reconcile. She was brought out of her thoughts by a sudden pat on her shoulder. She turned her head and met with their drama club teacher, Mr. Kim. He smiled, asking her to follow him to his office. YN obliged, glancing over at Beomgyu briefly before walking with Mr. Kim. Beomgyu noticed them walking away together and felt his chest tighten. Could this be the moment they’ve been waiting for?

Her ears felt like they were pounding every step she took, trailing behind Mr. Kim’s quick strides. YN felt like she knew what this was about. It was a gut feeling, though she couldn’t deny this feeling too soon to find out the final decision.

YN carefully closed the door behind her as Mr. Kim made his way behind his desk and quickly logged on to his computer. YN sat down across from his desk, hands clasped in her lap as she took deep breaths to calm the unsettled nerves and throbbing sensation along her temples.

“I’m sure you know why I called you in, right?” Mr. Kim broke the silence, waiting for the login screen to finish buffering.

“The NYU decision?” YN said, voice filled with uncertainty.

“That and one other thing.”

YN furrowed her brows; what else could they need to talk about?

“We never got a chance to talk about what happened opening night,” Mr. Kim sighed.

“Oh,” YN’s shoulders tensed, causing her to shrink in her seat. “Shouldn’t… Soojung be here, too?”

“I’ve already talked to Soojung separately,” Mr. Kim cleared. “Considering the tension surrounding this situation, I thought it would be best to keep you two apart for the foreseeable future.”

“Can I ask what was said when you talked?” YN asked, eyes widened.

“I didn’t have to say much,” Mr. Kim leaned back in his chair. “Soojung decided to confess everything she had done that led up to this mess. In fact, she took full responsibility for what happened on opening night and for Yeonjun’s sudden departure.”

“She did?” YN was shocked, it wasn’t like Soojung to just give up and admit defeat like this, especially to Mr. Kim directly, considering the authority he had over her future in this situation.

“I know Soojung can be a handful,” Mr. Kim sighed, fiddling with his mouse searching for a specific window on his computer screen. “I’m not completely oblivious to what goes on amongst my students, you know? I hear things. I see things. I know things.”

Click. Click. Click.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” YN exasperated. “We should’ve gone to you for help as soon as we found out what was happening. We didn’t mean for things to spiral the way they did that night.”

Mr. Kim held up a hand, asking YN to settle down.

“I’m not going to punish you, YN,” he reassured. “You’re teenagers. I expect you to act like teenagers, and what you did was exactly what a group of stubborn teenagers would do. It’s not my place to tell you whether what you did was the right thing, as long as you feel like what you chose to do was the best thing you could’ve done with the situation you were dealt. I’m a strong believer in letting my students fight their own battles until they feel they’ve fought enough.”

He sighed, “I’m just glad no one got hurt. At least physically. I just hope you’ve all learned and grown from this.”

“What about Soojung?”

“You let me worry about Soojung,” Mr. Kim said, turning his computer screen to face YN. “You have other things to worry about.”

YN glanced over to the screen. Mr. Kim’s email was open, displaying his most recently received file—a letter from NYU.

“I thought they were going to send me an email directly?” YN froze, heart racing faster than the speed of light. She felt the pit of her stomach begin to churn, immediately expecting the worst as she stared blankly at the lengthy email on the screen.

“When two students from the same program are competing for a single opening, it’s their program director who receives and delivers the news,” Mr. Kim explained. “Soojung already got the news. Now, it’s your turn. Read the page, YN.”

YN felt her eyes well up with tears as she hesitated to begin:

Hello, Mr. Kim,

The NYU Tisch admissions board representatives were more than impressed by the stellar talent present in your drama department. We came to observe two students but were blown away by every performer we had the pleasure of watching. YLN YN and Ahn Soojung displayed an impressive range that reached far beyond their years. Both girls are riddled with talent and have bright futures in the world of performance arts. Unfortunately, due to the circumstances, we can only offer one student admission to the upcoming fall semester at NYU Tisch. The student we chose demonstrated a caliber of excellence and maturity that shined brighter than anyone we saw on that stage. Her charisma and passion captured our attention and kept us deeply engaged with her character until her final bow. It is with great pleasure and enthusiasm that we offer Ms. YLN YN the final opening at NYU Tisch for the coming Fall 20XX semester. We are looking forward to working with her in the years to come…

YN’s eyes widened, and she immediately looked over at Mr. Kim, who was grinning from ear to ear.

“I got in?!”

“Congratulations, YN. I’m extremely proud of you,” Mr. Kim smiled, standing up and holding out his hand.

YN jumped up from her seat, grabbing a hold of Mr. Kim’s hands and tightly squeezed them between her own. “Mr. Kim, I couldn’t have done this without your years of guidance. Thank you so much! How could I ever repay you?!”

“Let’s say tickets to your first Broadway production will call it even,” he smiled.

YN nodded in agreement, filled with joy and much-needed relief. It was over. And in the end, she seemingly won this multi-year feud with Ahn Soojung. She reigned victorious. Yet, it somehow felt far from being officially over. There was still more that needed to be done before she could finally appreciate the long-awaited peace. This was just one piece of her future finally falling into place.

[ note ] this took forever and a half to write up and it’s not even long bye see you tomorrow 💀

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[comet-forgot-you]

more power bottom! River🗣️‼️

i love ur writing btw bae 😸

more

power bottom!river x reader

summary: basically the request but its kinda soft at the end.

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, strap-on use, power bottom river, mean river, (why is she always mean in my fics, ill change some day), idk if theres more

a/n: im tired. pinterest is my best friend when it comes to river pics. goodnight.

it felt like it was never enough. it didnt matter how many times you had brought river over the edge, it felt like it was never enough to please her. she was insatiable, always so bossy when it came to sex, her words firm as she told you what to do. you didn’t mind though, every dominate word and rough tug at the hairs at the base of your neck sent hear rushing to your core.

“c’mon, baby, fuck me like you mean it.” river mumbles, clawing at your back as you pounded into her. the two of you had been going at it for hours, your strap abusing her cunt non-stop at her command. you let out huffs, your body sore from the constant movement. you hook your hands under her thighs, pushing them to meet her chest. she moans out at the new found angles you hit with every thrust.

“riv,” you whine out, hips stuttering. the base of the strap bumped your clit perfectly, the new position only furthering both of your pleasure. river’s palm meets your cheek in a harsh slap. your thrusts still for a split second as you process what had just happened before you cup your cheek, trying to soothe the stinging sensation it left behind. she tuts at your actions, pulling your wrist away.

“don’t you fucking stop.” she grips your chin in her hand, moans falling from her lips. you continue your pace, skin smacking against skin as you try to bring her to another orgasm. she lets out a huff, pressing her thumb against your tongue. “you’ll come when i do, understand?” you nod frantically, picking your pace up in a desperate attempt to reach your orgasm quicker.

you knew that if you were to cum before her, the punishment would be harsh. it had always been in the past. weeks without being able to touch her as she forced you to watch her come undone on her own fingers, another week of her leaving you hanging by a thread after hours of endless teasing, river was ruthless when it came to choosing her punishments, and you definitely didnt want to see that side of her any time soon.

her breath catches in her throat, thumb pressing down against your tongue even further. she was close, you were close, it was only a matter of time. your hand trails down the back of her thigh until it met her soaked cunt. a needy whine escapes your lips at the feeling, your thumb circling her pulsing clit.

“fuck! just like that.. fuck.. good job, shit. gonna cum,” her words are slurred and mixed in with the moans that fall freely from her lips. “come on baby, cum with me, yeah?” you nod, words unable to fall from your lips. partly because of her heavy thumb on your tongue, and partly because you’re too drunk on fucking river to form them.

river’s orgasm washes over her, loud moans leaving her lips. yours follows, your hips stuttering to a stop, bottom out inside of her. moans fall from both of your lips, her thumb falling from your mouth. you pant against her skin, slumped over as your orgasm washes through you. you let go of her legs and they wrap around your waist.

“one more, yeah? know you wanna fuck me again, baby,” she mumbles, rolling her hips into the strap. a deep groan escapes your lips as your press open mouthed kisses against her skin.

“yeah, wanna make you feel good,” you mumble, trying your best to roll your hips into hers. her fingers tangle inside of your hair, lightly scratching your scalp.

“unless my baby’s too tired for another round. ts’ okay baby,” she coos, tugging your hair lightly. “we don’t gotta go again,” you whine against her skin. you want to go again, you want to bring her pleasure, but you cant pick yourself up, can’t even form proper words. she hums as you lay your face down against her chest, skin against skin. “too tired, hmm?” the words a gentle, her legs unwrapping themselves from your waist. “ts’ okay. we can just lay here for a bit,” she mumbles, rubbing your tense shoulders. you hum, tracing different patterns on her hip. it didnt matter how mean river could get, she always knew your boundaries, always knew when to stop.

[avanatural]

Being With A Hunter

Summary: In Purgatory, Dean tells Benny about the woman of his dreams – Y/N. Once he returns to the world of the living, he seeks her out, looking for comfort. Will his expectations be met after an entire year apart? 

Pairing: Dean x female Reader

Category: Angst, smut, fluff, 18+

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: Mentions of blood and death, mentions of cheating, explicit sexual content, penetrative sex

A/N: This story contains smut! Do not proceed if you’re under the age of 18! This idea has been sitting in my drafts for over three years. Finally, I managed to finish the story. I hope you enjoy! I would also like to clarify that I love Sam. I was only trying to reflect in this story how Dean felt after finding out his brother didn’t look for him. There’s no place for Sam hate on my blog ❤️ The divider was created by the talented @talesmaniac89​ 😊

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“So… Once we make it outta this rat hole, what will you be returnin’ to?”, Benny asked.

Dean huffed, pushing aside the branches in his way.

The hunter-vampire duo was stomping through the deep woods of Purgatory. The sky above them was colored a constant grey. Dean had almost forgotten what it was like to be bathed in sunlight. It was depressing. The fact that he was consistently covered in dirt, sweat, and blood didn’t help.

“My brother,” he grumbled in response.

“You sure that’s all?”, the vampire pushed, catching up to walk next to his human friend.

“What’s with all the questions, huh? We got more pressing matters to attend to, don’t you think?”, Dean snapped.

Benny raised his hands in defense. “Alright, chief. Just… I’ve seen the look that you get. You got a girl out there or somethin’?”

“What look?”, Dean demanded, wiping some sweat off of his forehead with his dirty hand, smearing some grime across his skin in the process.

“That can’t eat, can’t sleep-face you make when you zone out, mate. I know that look. Trust me.”

Dean side-eyed Benny with disbelief. “What, you got a girl out there?”

“Used to. Andrea...” Her name rolled off of Benny’s tongue wistfully. “She was the light of my life.”

Dean looked around, wary and on high alert, clutching his machete tightly. “What happened?”, he asked. Back in the day, he’d never paid a single thought to the idea of monsters being able to love. And now here he was, Dean freaking Winchester, working together with a monster. A vampire who used to be in love.

“I’ll share mine if you share yours.”

“Not now,” Dean warned lowly, images of her invading his mind. The last thing he needed was to get distracted by the thought of her. Recalling her kindness, her voice, her face… It was only going to soften him, which he couldn’t afford right now. Not while he was hunting.

A twig snapped in the distance, capturing the two men’s attention. They instantly took off in the direction of the sound, ready to hunt down whatever threat was lurking in the woods.

After spending too many hours on his aching feet, Dean was lying on his back. His eyes were closed as he tried to get some rest on the muddy ground. Tiny, sharp stones were digging into his back, but he’d already given up on getting comfortable. Sleep was only required to help him survive another day, not to make him feel good.

Benny may not have needed much rest, but Dean, being human, needed at least a few hours. The vampire sat a few meters away from the hunter, watching out for any dangers.

Dean’s eyes remained closed, but his mind was racing. He wondered whether he was ever going to see Sam again. Was his brother going to do something stupid to get him back? Of course, he also wondered if he was ever going to see Y/N again. He speculated about what would happen if they met again. They’d left things on interesting terms, to say the least.

“Can’t sleep?”, Benny uttered, keeping his voice down.

With a frustrated sigh, Dean opened his eyes. He stared at the colorless sky, unwilling to face his companion. “Her name’s Y/N.”

Dean’s words sparked Benny’s interest, who sat up further in surprise. The hunter hadn’t opened up once in all the time they’d spent together, so the vampire eagerly took the bait. “She your girl?”

The Winchester shook his head, his eyes now roaming the trees surrounding them. Not even the leaves that adorned the branches had any color. Everything was dull, somber. “No.”

“She a hunter?”

“No.”

Benny chuckled. “She real?”

“Of course, she’s real,” Dean barked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re shit at openin’ up, you know that?”

A tense silence ensued between them. Dean kept clenching and unclenching his fists, contemplating whether or not to tell Benny about Y/N. After a few minutes, he pushed himself up into a seated position, his jacket coated with a fresh layer of dirt. He kept his gaze on the ground. “She doesn’t hunt. But, uh, she’s dating a hunting friend of my brother’s. That’s how I got to know her.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see that Benny was tilting his head. That piece of information clearly wasn’t what the vampire expected.

“Unrequited love, huh?” Benny clicked his tongue. “That sucks, chief.”

“I’m not so sure about that…”

“Somethin’ was goin’ on between you two,” Benny figured, casually wielding his machete in his hands.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “When I first got to know her, I just thought she was hot. I mean, really hot…” He felt himself smile for the very first time since he’d ended up in Purgatory. “She was wearin’ those tight little jeans. God, those jeans�� Her nose wrinkled when she laughed. And she laughed a lot.” Dean could clearly picture their very first meeting. How she’d wrapped him up in a caring hug despite not even knowing him. “Whenever we hung out, we just… had the best time, you know? Grinned until our faces hurt. But, uh… Her boyfriend got more and more possessive of her.”

“Well, if some guy was pinin’ after my girl, I woulda ripped his head right off.”

“Oh, shut it, I wasn’t pining,” Dean grumped.

Benny snickered darkly. “Sure, you weren’t.”

“Anyway, I went to see her before my last case. Before we went up against the Leviathans. She wanted me to keep her updated. She was always worried.” Dean paused, searching for words. Y/N used to text him. To check up on him and Sam. He wondered if she’d called, or left any messages for him to read if he ever got out of Purgatory. “About us,” he added, wearing a far-away expression on his face as he pictured her smile.

“So, you went to say goodbye. Before you went after that Roman guy.”

Dean looked down at his palms. They were covered with multiple cuts and callouses that never seemed to heal – a constant reminder of Purgatory’s viciousness. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna make it outta that one alive. Her boyfriend wasn’t home. And we, uh…” He scratched the corner of his mouth with his dirty thumb. “We kissed.”

Benny’s eyebrows shot up like little rockets aiming for the sky. “You kissed her?”

“Best thing I’ve ever done,” the hunter replied, his voice sounding delicate and pure, like melted honey.

His voice had never sounded that gentle since he’d ended up in Purgatory. Not once. Benny took notice of this, his steel blue eyes examining Dean’s face.

The vampire sighed. “Well, if we make it outta here, you better haul your ass to her place and work it out.”

Dean nibbled on his bottom lip and stared into the endless distance. Even though he had no clue how Y/N really felt about him, the thought of seeing her again provided a special sense of comfort. “Yeah… Now, come on. Let’s get goin’. I can’t sleep, anyway.”

Dean pressed ‘ignore’ for the third time in a row. He didn’t want to hear another word from Sam. He’d made it out. He’d actually made it out of Purgatory. Only to find out his brother hadn’t bothered looking for him.

Dean couldn’t stand the thought of staying at Bobby’s old cabin all by himself. His soul was yearning for company. For someone with whom he could share a genuine smile. Someone who had missed him, who would want to celebrate that he was back.

As he drove through the dark, into the direction of Y/N’s house, he prayed that she was still that someone.

When his phone started ringing again, he turned it off. Sam had left him to rot, why should he care now?

Dean sped up his beloved car, racing towards Y/N’s home. He had no clue what he was going to find there, but he had no other place to go. Hell, he was even willing to put up with Andrew if it meant he could crash there for the night.

Once his destination came into view, he felt his blood pump faster. He parked Baby on the side of the road and just sat there for a moment, staring at the small, cozy home that Y/N shared with Andrew.

After Dean had freed Benny, he’d promised him that he would go see her. That he would talk to her. But now, being so close, he felt ridiculous. She wasn’t single, so what the hell was he expecting?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he swung open the car door and stepped out. He adjusted his jacket on his way to her porch. His anxiety traveled from his feet all the way up to his head.

Standing in front of the door, Dean proceeded to smell his armpits. Being drenched his own sweat for a year made him paranoid about his appeal. Good thing he’d taken a long shower back at Bobby’s cabin.

He took a deep breath, not feeling ready for this at all. It wasn’t like he’d been a social person over the course of the past twelve months. What was he supposed to say to her? ‘Hey, we kissed a year ago and things are hella awkward now, but I’m back from Purgatory, can I stay the night?’ Did Y/N and Andrew even still live here?

Just as he was about to ring the bell, the door was suddenly pulled open.  

With a jerk, Dean retreated his finger from the bell. His head snapped up, and his mouth parted. He was caught with no way out. His wide emerald orbs settled on Y/E/C ones. “Y/N?”  

There, standing in front of him, was the woman he’d dreamed about seeing again. And damn, she looked breathtaking.

Y/N was wearing a purple sundress and heels. She wore a pinned-up hairstyle that gave her face enough room to shine in all its glory. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness.

She looked like an angel. And not those feathered dicks that Dean had encountered. No, she looked just like an angel from the stories that his mom used to tell him.

A relieved smile spread on Dean’s lips, rays of sunshine flooding his soul at the sight of her. She was home. And she seemed to be fine.

Yet, before he knew it, the door was shut with a bang. Right in his face. On instinct, he took a step back. He stared at the door, dumbfounded by her reaction. “Y/N?!”, he called out to her.

He stepped closer to the door again and put his ear against it. He could hear frantic rustling on the other side. A few daunting moments later, the door was pulled back open.

Y/N now carried a flask and a can of salt in her hands. Without so much as hesitating, she used the flask to splash him with what he believed to be holy water. Dean instinctively closed his eyes as the cool liquid hit his face.

She frowned, puzzled, when nothing happened. She then flung some salt at his torso – again, to no avail. Her bewildered brows scooted closer together. Rolling up her dress, she revealed a black thigh holster, and pulled a silver knife from it.

It would have been pretty hot in Dean’s opinion if she didn’t grab his arm and dig the blade into his skin. A thin red line appeared on his forearm.

“Ah,” Dean winced, withdrawing his arm after she’d cut him. He caught her gaze, impressed by her straightforward behavior. “Atta girl,” he commented in awe, his voice hoarse with pride.

Her eyes became round with wonder as she looked up at him. She studied his face, astonished. Her stare didn’t waver as she was terrified that he was going to disappear into thin air. Her mouth opened and closed a few times. “You’re…”

“I’m me,” he vowed. He held up his hardened hands reassuringly.

“Oh my God,” she whispered and stepped towards him. After snaking her arms around his neck, she pulled him down for a tight hug.

Dean followed her lead. His hands found her lower back. He let her hold him, wrap him up in a warmhearted embrace. He buried his face in her hair, resting his chin on her shoulder. The sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo invaded his nostrils, calming his nerves.

Dean had been on guard for an entire year on end. Right in that moment, in Y/N’s arms, he felt himself let go for the very first time in twelve torturous months.

Closing his eyes, he reveled in her tender touch. His body melted against hers. His arms tightened around her body. Tears started to well up in his green orbs, causing him to shut them even more tightly. He hated the burning sensation. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to worry Y/N. An involuntarily sigh left his lips when she started running her hands up and down his wide shoulder blades in a soothing gesture.

After a minute of staying wrapped up in each other’s arms, they broke apart. Dean blinked at her, hoping that she didn’t see his unshed tears. But she looked just as emotionally charged as he felt.

Suddenly, her sweet face twisted with bitterness and she landed an unexpected blow to his shoulder.

“Ouch!” Dean covered his shoulder with his hand, arching a surprised eyebrow at the punch.

“What the hell happened?”, Y/N demanded.

“Well, if you promise you won’t hit me again, I’d like to come in and explain,” Dean sassed, holding his free hand up in defense.

Y/N stepped aside and Dean walked into her house, wiping his wet face that was still covered in holy water. He noticed that her place looked different. New colors, new furniture. “You renovated?”, he asked.

She pointed towards the couch in the living room and watched as he took a seat. “I needed a change of scenery.”

Dean sat back against the soft cushions of her couch. “I like it,” he commented mindlessly and watched with flaming interest as Y/N removed her thigh holster. The smooth skin of her leg was a sight to behold, especially after one year of celibacy. There was nothing he wouldn’t give to be able to touch her, to squeeze her flesh in his hands.

After retrieving her phone, Y/N quickly started typing away.

“What are you doing?”, Dean inquired, looking up at her from where he was seated.

“Calling off my… date,” she sighed. With an unreadable expression on her face, she dropped her phone on the table. With careless movements, she kicked off her heels and sat down next to her visitor.

“Date?”, Dean repeated with a baffled expression, trying desperately to mentally catch up with her. The hunter took a swift look around. “Where’s Andrew?”

Y/N hesitated and glanced at the floor. A pang of dread settled in the depths of Dean’s chest. Something was off.

After taking a deep inhale, Y/N finally said, “He’s dead.” Her fingers started to play with the hem of her dress.

“What? How?” Dean sat up straight, genuinely taken aback. Andrew had been a damn good hunter, he had to give him that.

“One year ago, he died on a hunt...” She bit the inside of her cheek and paused for a moment. “Because of me.”

Dean shook his head. “How can you think that?”

Y/N tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it was too thick. Her regret was so heavy that she felt like it was going to drag her down through the ground and straight to hell. “I, uh… I wanted to be honest with him. I told him about our kiss,” she revealed with a shaky voice, “And he… He said he needed a break. So, he went on that hunt by himself.” Her eyes glistened with remorse. “He didn’t wait for backup. Those ghouls… They tore him to pieces.”

“Y/N…” Dean’s hand reached out to touch her shoulder. “You didn’t kill him.”

She blinked, causing a single tear to slide down her cheek. “I drove him away.”

Dean couldn’t bear the thought of her blaming herself when he was just as responsible for that kiss. Perhaps even more. “Well, then it’s my fault, too. I kissed you.”

“We kissed each other,” Y/N clarified, her watery gaze holding a deep softness as she looked at him. She didn’t want him to blame himself. She was the one who’d been in a relationship, not him.

Dean stared back at her for a while, amazed by the warmth in her gaze. She was so perfect to him that it hurt. He never wanted to see her cry again. Once he realized just how intently he was staring at her, he cleared his throat. “Yeah. Uh…” He didn’t know how to start the conversation he intended to have with her about that kiss.

“Enough about that,” she interrupted his train of thought, quickly wiping the skin under her eyes. After taking a calming breath, she continued, “What happened to you? Sam… He sent me a message about you being gone. I tried contacting him, but he never got back to me.”

“He just said I was gone?”, Dean demanded, unable to hide his anger.  

Y/N nodded. “I tried digging up information about your whereabouts, but I couldn’t find anything. Not a single trace. I thought you were dead.”

He chuckled bitterly. “Well, at least someone tried lookin’ for me.”

“Dean, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t die.” He rubbed his hands together, feeling the chapped skin of his callouses scrape against each other. “I got sent to Purgatory.”

The muscles in Y/N’s forehead twitched. “… Purgatory?”

“Yeah.”

And just like that, every last gruesome detail came pouring out of him. He told her how he’d been dragged to Purgatory along with Dick Roman. How he’d become the hunted. How he’d lost Castiel. That he’d made a vampire friend who’d offered him a way out.

Y/N just sat there, listening to every single word he had to say. She nodded occasionally to encourage him to keep talking. Somewhere along his monologue, she placed her hand on his knee, squeezing gently. The hunter was beyond relieved to be with her.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” she breathed once he’d poured his heart out. She must have listened to him for nearly an hour, but she didn’t show any signs of being tired of it.

When he looked at her, he saw the pain on her face. The pain she felt for him, for what he’d gone through. “Yeah. Me, too,” he said quietly. He placed his hand on top of hers that was still resting on his leg. “So… You’re dating, huh?”

She went with the change of subject, knowing that their conversation was already dark enough. “I went on a few dates recently. But…,” Y/N chuckled drily, feeling stupid for what she was about to say, “There was something about being with a hunter, you know? It was… exciting. Exhilarating.” She scoffed and shook her head. “Hunters aren’t clueless, they know what’s out there. They know what’s important. Those dates, they just, I don’t know…”

“Bored you?”, Dean assumed, pushing his eyebrows together.

“Yeah.”

He tilted his body so that he could fully face her. “So… You’re not disappointed that I ruined the one tonight?”, he asked, brushing his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand.

Her lips curled, the smallest of smiles brightening her face. “God, no. I’m just glad you’re back, Dean.”

He couldn’t help but return her smile. She was happy to have him back. Truly happy. And he knew it was inappropriate, immoral, considering what had happened to Andrew, but this situation was like a dream come true. Getting out of Purgatory, that was him coming back to the world of the living. Getting to see Y/N again, that was him coming back to life.

“You know…,” he trailed off, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, “I’m a hunter.”

And just like that, the whole atmosphere shifted from a somber heart-to-heart to an intimate staring match.

A curious glint became apparent in her eyes. “Are you asking me on a date, Winchester?”

Dean leaned forward, bringing his hand up to rest on her waist. “Not what I had in mind.”

It took all of his courage to make his next move. Perhaps he’d forgotten how to charm a woman with his words, but his body had not forgotten the art of seduction. So, he followed his intuition. Start slow. Don’t be aggressive. He gently caressed her side as he brushed his lips against hers, the kiss light as a feather.

She tasted just like he remembered. Like peppermint and dopamine.

“This okay?”, he breathed against her mouth as he broke away from her. So far, so good.

Y/N was enchanted by the plump pillows that were Dean’s lips. It was wrong, immoral, but he was the man she’d secretly desired for years. And he was standing right before her, in the flesh, offering himself to her. “Do that again,” she whispered.

He complied with her request and pressed his mouth to hers again, more firmly this time. She kissed him back, her hands taking a greedy hold of his shoulders. This was it. This was his signal.

Dean pushed her backwards, making her lean back against the couch. He hovered above her, never pulling away from her lips.

She reached for his jacket and pushed it down his broad shoulders. “Off,” she muttered in between kisses.

Dean shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it to the side. His hands then took a tour across her body, needing to feel more of her. His blood started to pump faster. His carnal instincts took over. He needed more. He needed everything. All the touches, all the intimacy he could get.

But most of all, Dean needed to be in control. After all the danger, all the threats, all the blood he’d shed in Purgatory, he couldn’t give away control. Not yet. Not even to the one person who gave him all the comfort he demanded.

His mouth moved against hers more and more feverishly. He was rewarded with a pleased mewl from Y/N and snarled from deep within his throat, feeling like a dog in heat. He yearned to touch her hot skin, to trace it all until he’d memorized every single inch of her body, but at the same time, he couldn’t wait to fill her up, hard and fast.

Dean pushed her dress up around her hips. His fingers were drawn to her underwear by an invisible magnetic force.

“Hmm…”, she cooed when he started rubbing her through her panties.

Dean felt the fabric dampen underneath his fingertips. He forgot how to talk, how to make sense of words. Instead, his mind filled with images of all the ways in which he wanted to make her his. Before he knew it, he was ripping her panties down her legs.

Y/N helped him out by kicking off her underwear. She then began fumbling with his belt, brushing against the promising bulge in his jeans.

Meanwhile, Dean took his sweet time ogling her glistening pussy. Knowing that she was wet for him, ready for him to bury himself inside her, it made his blood go wild. He caught the tip of his tongue between his teeth as she freed him from his confines. His dick sprung free, coated with pre-cum. After all this time of not being touched, he felt like he could come by simply staring at Y/N.

Before she had a chance to do anything other than look at him, Dean impatiently licked his palm and spread the saliva along his shaft. All too eagerly, he guided his cock to her pussy.

“Dean!”, Y/N laughed, planting her palms on his t-shirt-covered chest, making him pause, “I’d like to feel your skin against mine, you know.”

He half-groaned in frustration, and tore his t-shirt over his head, leaving his spiky hair to stand up at odd angles. Not that either of them cared. In fact, Y/N quite enjoyed his hedgehog hair.

She shimmied out of her dress and unhooked her bra. They were both in a hurry, eager to spend the night in each other’s waiting arms.

Once they were both naked, Dean climbed on top of her again, his mind a little less hazy. He couldn’t just jump her like a caveman, could he?

With a growl, he rejoined their lips. They lost all shame, exchanging hot, messy kisses, licking into each other’s mouths. One of his hands tangled in her hair as they made out. The other hand went to her ass, cupping her flesh possessively.

As they caught their breath, she smiled up at him, her pupils lust-blown. Reaching down, she wrapped her hand around his shaft, spreading his precum all over his manhood.

When she started jerking him with agonizingly slow movements, Dean grunted, his lips attaching to her neck. Y/N moaned when he sucked on her delicate pulse point, no doubt hard enough to leave a mark.

“Need you,” he growled into her skin.

“Then take me.”

The sound of her voice sent a surge of desire straight to his member, making it jerk. Dean grabbed Y/N as though she weighed nothing and flipped her over onto her stomach. She tried to get up on her hands and knees, but he kept her in place.

“Stay down,” he mumbled, straddling the backs of her thighs.

Y/N did as she was told and rested on her stomach. As she turned her head to look at him, a luscious grin tugged at the corners of her lips.

Dean focused on her ass, which was on full display for him. He bit his lip at the sight, his hands taking a hold of her butt cheeks. He squeezed them, making a small whine leave her lips.

“You got a condom?”, he asked, “Wanna be inside you when I come.”

A bouquet of excitement bloomed inside of her, spreading across her limbs like wildfire. “Under the coffee table.”

Not moving from his spot on top of her, Dean reached out, rummaged around a little, and found a pack of condoms. Impatiently, he took one out, the pack almost slipping through his fingers. After ripping the foil package open, he rolled the condom on.

“Ready?”, Dean all but grunted down at her, his voice full of need.

“Mhh, yes.”

He grabbed himself and slowly pushed the head of his dick into her. The position made her unbelievably tight. So tight that it was difficult for him to enter her. He bared his teeth at the feeling. The sensation was so overwhelming that his jaw went slack.

Y/N sighed and buried her face in one of the pillows as he sheathed himself inside her.

“You good?”, he asked through gritted teeth. If he didn’t start moving soon, he was going to lose it.

She lifted her head up off the pillow. “Yeah. Just… Adjusting.”

The cockiness was audible in Dean’s voice when he retorted, “It’ll pass. Just give it a sec.”

“I know, smartass,” she shot back and rolled her eyes at the smug tone in his voice.

He chuckled and started to slowly move his cock in and out of her body as he sat on the backs of her thighs, letting her get used to him. He could feel her tightness, her slick, all of it as he dragged himself through her inner walls. When she started moaning for him, he took it as a sign that she was prepped enough.

Dean braced his palms on either side of her head, moving to lean on top of her. He could feel the hot skin of her ass against his front as she pushed herself back against him. It made him go even deeper. She whined when he suddenly delivered a sharp thrust.

“Like that?”, Dean rasped into her ear.

She turned her face so she could meet his gaze, and nodded. He kept up the harsh thrusts, finding a steady, punishing rhythm.

Y/N’s fists tightened around the pillow, holding on through the euphoric ride. A chain of shaky moans left her red lips.

He responded by leaving a sloppy, damp trail of kisses along her shoulders and neck. When she clenched around him, he cursed under his breath. “Holy shit…” He abruptly stopped his movements, much to Y/N’s dismay.

“Dean…,” she wailed in disapproval.

“Hold on,” he told her, his voice gruff with want. He reached for another pillow and attempted to shove it under her lower abdomen.

Y/N got the idea and pushed herself up to help him. As she lifted her ass, it made her tighten almost painfully around him.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed.

She laughed playfully at Dean’s reaction and properly positioned her lower abdomen on the pillow. It pushed her ass up towards him, making him slide in and out of her with more ease.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” he threatened.

“Bring it on,” she teased back.

He planted his hands on either side of her head again and started his rhythm back up, driving his member into her with such force that it knocked the breath out of Y/N’s lungs. She gasped every time he gave another rough thrust, her eyes fluttering shut at the mind-blowing pleasure.

Dean had no idea what had gotten into him. He wanted to caress her, to worship her. But he desperately needed to be in control, to get it all out of his system. And by the sounds she was making, she enjoyed it just as much as he did.

The sounds of his skin slapping against hers rang through the living room, along with her squeals and his groans. It was downright sinful.

Dean dropped his head on her shoulder. Y/N reveled in the friction on her clit as he slid her against the pillow with each slam of his hips.

“Y/N…”

“You close?”, she breathed.

“Yeah… You?” His voice was strained with lust.

“Mh-mh,” she whimpered, unable to speak.

After a few more jabs of his hips, Dean couldn’t hold back any longer and shot his cum into the condom. “God, Y/N… Ugghhh.” His mouth hung open, his eyes were shut. His pace faltered with the immense pleasure that washed over him.

Y/N had her head propped up on her hands, looking back at him with pure, genuine awe. He looked so perfect as he came for her. Her teeth chewed sensually on her lip as he kept moving inside her.

Once Dean was finished, he opened his exhausted eyes and met her pleading gaze. He was still hard and gathered the stamina he had left to pick up his thrusts again. She released a groan, fisting parts of the couch as the pressure on her clit and g-spot overpowered her.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he demanded, panting into her hair as his thrusts rocked her back and forth against the pillow beneath her. The tip of his dick pounded into the very depths of her body.

The knot in Y/N’s belly tightened. Her back arched, causing her to grind herself even harder against him. “Dean!” As she fell apart, getting lost in the midst of bliss, gushing around him, her thighs trembled.

He guided her through it, pushing in and out of her until her orgasm subsided. She looked so fulfilled, so sexy, that he never wanted this Goddess of a woman to stop coming for him. When she did, though, he collapsed on top of her, completely spent.

Y/N hummed as she felt his weight on her back, making her sink into the cushions with a sleepy smile on her lips. “That was…”

“Awesome.”

She chuckled softly and Dean climbed off of her with a sharp exhale. While he got rid of the condom, Y/N scooted to the far end of the couch to make space for him.

As soon as he rejoined her, Dean slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her as close as only humanly possible.

Now, he took his time to explore every curve of her body. He let his free hand roam her thighs, her hips, her sides, her breasts. He’d been dreaming about this very moment for years.

Y/N nuzzled into his touch every so often, basking in the attention he was showering her with. His roughness from before was gone. Now, he was the gentlest, most caring man in the world, showing her just how much love he had to give.

Dean couldn’t get enough of her. After one year of being punched, shoved, kicked, even stabbed, he was finally graced with affection. As soon as he realized just how much he’d been through, how much he craved a benevolent touch, he felt the tears burning in his eyes again. If she allowed him to, he was never going to let go of Y/N again. He was going to hold on to her love with all his strength.

He touched her cheek with his hand, making her look at him. “Can I stay?”, he asked, his husky voice laced with a plea.

She observed his green, sad orbs for a moment. Her heart longed for him so bad that she knew she couldn’t put it into proper words, even if she tried. A devoted smile spread across her face. Something from deep within told her that they could help each other heal.

“As long as you want, Dean.”

Tag list: @eevvvaa @waynes-multiverse @myloversgone @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @alagalaska @libre1rose8​ @katbratsupernaturalwhore @woodworthti666 @deanwanddamons @awkward-and-indecisive @snowlovespie @desimarie12 @golden-hoax @leigh70 @mimzy1994 @impalaslytherin​ @globetrotter28 @spnwoman​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @may85​ 

[hrefna-the-raven]

First kiss

Words: 1099

Summary: Kelvin and you discover your feelings for each other.

Warnings: no smut, only fluff this time

You have been stuck on this cursed island for twenty days now since the helicopter crash. It sparked a constant struggle between hopelessness and the urge to stay alive, permanently torn between putting up and fortifying a shelter while gathering supplies and fighting off the ferocious cannibals that inhabited this island. The initial days were extremely challenging and you contemplated, more often than not, about giving in to the temptation of just letting the cannibals feast on you to end it all. However, in the midst of all the misery and agony, there was a spark of hope that shone through, taking the form of the elite soldier Kelvin who had been with you on the helicopter. He not only survived the crash but he was also the one sparing you from having an involuntary meet and greet with God that day as he risked everything to pull you out of the sinking aircraft, sacrificing his hearing in the process. You were unsure if it was the traumatic experience provoking the sudden drastic change in your lives or his genuine kindness, but you found yourself growing closer to him every day, despite the bleak circumstances. The first few days you jotted down all the essential tasks on your notebook for him to understand. However, after a week, you both developed a form of unique sign language that allowed you to communicate without the need for written words. You only resorted to writing when discussing profound thoughts during the evenings spent around the campfire. You discovered the behind that quiet and shy facade was a gentle loving soul and the more days passed, the more you had to restrain yourself from not giving in to the growing fondness. Your effort from keeping that inclination locked up in the depths of your heart rendered you blind to realise that Kelvin was fighting similar demons every time he was around you. As you spoke, he couldn't help but stare at your lips, following their movements as if he could somehow hear your words. He wished for nothing more than to be able to hear you voice, appreciate every inflection and tone, but he knew that it would never be possible, so he was stuck on endless daydreaming about how sweet you might sound. Yet, as she spoke, he felt something stir inside him. It was the way her eyes sparkled, the way her hands moved as she emphasized certain words. It was as if they had their own language, one that he had slowly learned to understand over time. He had admittingly been drawn to you from the very first moment he laid his eyes on your delicate figure, entering the helicopter and sliding the door shut before you gave him a shy smile. You both tried to adapt to each other, learning to communicate in a way that didn't rely on sound. It was there that he had first noticed his flourishing feelings, the way you moved with perky grace and spoke with passion, even without a single word being uttered. You made him feel alive and despite the daily death-feud in the seemingly endless forest, he knew that one day, he would need to approach you and tell you the truth about his feelings.

One day in the late afternoon as the sun was slowly going down, you watched Kelvin sitting by the serene river next to your camp, eyes fixed on the water, awaiting the perfect moment to strike and catch a fish. Your heart skipped a beat at the admiration for the cuteness of his concentration, a warm smile spreading across your lips at how adorable he looked while focusing hard on a task. You tiptoed towards him, attempting to find some middle ground between surprising but not startling him and right at the moment his gaze drifted away to the other side, you jumped into to the river, your hands diving into the water towards him in a swift movement, creating a splash and drenching him completely. Kelvin’s head shot up, water dripping down his face while he gaped at you confused and speechless as his brain tried to process what just happened. You couldn’t help but to giggle at his stunned expression, cheeks blushing at his adorable reaction. For a while, you both just stood there, looking at each other in surprise before Kelvin burst out laughing and started splashing water back at you. You tried to escape cackling but lost your footing, falling into the deeper part of the river, your hands grasping at Kelvin’s hoodie, dragging him down into the water with you. Instinctively Kelvin pulled your body against him, paddling towards the bank to avoid you floating down, away from the camp. As cool and refreshing the water was, you both climbed out soon enough, laying down in the grass, giggling happily as you observing the sky turning into a beautiful shade of orange and pink as the sun was setting. You shivered a little and before you could react, you felt Kelvin’s hand sneak around your waist, pulling you close to him. He gazed into your eyes, lost in his trail of thoughts, questioning whether he should finally admit his feelings to you. The way his eyes locked on yours, his gentle breaths brushing over your skin due to the closeness gave you goosebumps. It felt like you have found something special amidst this chaos, a jewel hidden in a pile of stones, begging for the question whether it should be cherished openly or remain hidden in the shadows. Kelvin’s heart almost burst out of his chest, grinding his teeth nervously as his nose nudged the tip of yours. The corners of his mouth twitched nervously as his eyes darted between yours and your lips. A subtle unspoken question now lingered between the two of you and the pain of your racing heart was nearly unbearable as you leaned in, pressing your lips on his. Kelvin was the first to pull away, breathless and wide-eyed, feeling the wave of relief washing over him. He chuckled, his hand cradling your neck and pulling you close, his lips finding yours this time. It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, but it quickly became more passionate. Kelvin's heart raced as he deepened the kiss, his hands moving to your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. A loud manic cry in the distance interrupted your love confession. Kelvin jumped up, holding his hand out to you which you thankfully took. Both of you disappeared behind the safe wooden walls of your camp.

Masterlist

SotF masterlist

[zecretsanta]

To: @classycorgiposts

From: @wherestarsarestillasleep

“Clover talks with Tenymouji and Quark in B Garden in the aftermath of Another Time End, after discovering who Tenmyouji really is, watching how he treats Quark and worrying about what about happened to Snake”

Stepping out onto the wide barren dusty landscape, at first you think you’re in the desert again. You’ll wish you were just in the desert again.

You think maybe now that you’re out of the facility, you’ll be able to reach your brother. There’s really no logical reason to believe that based off what you know about the field. You hope blindly. Everyone worked together so well to get here. You never believed they all would, and you were proven shockingly wrong. It prompts optimism.

Nothing. Radio silence. You still can’t feel him. An empty void where the mental weight of your brother should be.You’ve trained your connection over the last year, tapped into it more than you ever had. You’d reached a stage where that kind of awareness of him was practically constant. Ever since you woke up here and couldn’t reach him, you’ve felt untethered. Like half of yourself has been floating away.The sky is beautiful. Full of stars. Now that it’s so wide open above you, you fear that part of yourself will drift away entirely.

Your attention is quickly redirected from that unease to a new, nearly incomprehensible dread. There’s static in your head hearing Tenmyouji’s horror story. There’s no time to process it then. You have to keep moving to uncover the truth, before you ever got a chance to think through whether you really wanted it. You’re just being pulled along with the tide of other people’s momentum. You don’t get a say, or a clue.

There’s so much happening, so much to take in. Your head spinning trying to keep up with everything going on, all the chaos. Akane Kurashiki lunges with a knife and suddenly it ends. She and Sigma stand up again - his posture’s gone rigid and his movements slowed, something more like the old man he is and less like Sigma. They speak to each other and you don’t hear anything.

Why are you so still? Like you’ve stayed frozen. Phantom frost clinging to all your limbs, icy and sharp. She told you they kept you in a pod for 45 years.

Your eyes catch Akane’s. You knew her as June, but June was warm and emotional and energetic and false. The gaze meeting yours now is cold, steely, dull and intense at once. And a piercing cut through your impulse for denial.In the moment she looks back at you before she casts you again out of her concern, she nods. What does that mean? What is she acknowledging? Is that meant to mean anything to you!?

You�� you should be yelling at her. You should be furious. Upset, at least. You should march right up to her, shake her, call her out, force her to make this right. You shouldn’t just let her get away with this. All of you, just standing here and letting her justify why she did all of this to you and accepting it -

Your whole body is numb. You sink onto one of the benches. You draw your knees up and burrow your face in them. Voices blend around you in darkness.

You feel like your brain is stalling putting together everything that just happened. You guess now you know it is. Time is in a gunk. You’re infected. You’ve had a lethal disease in your system for - you have no idea how long. Days. It must have been days, and you couldn’t feel it. Shouldn’t that panic you more?You dig your nails into your bare legs like you could physically hold in the shaking.For a while you feel like you just don’t think. You don’t ask yourself questions, don’t identify feelings.

What are you supposed to do?

There’s a rising, looming answer to why none of your messages to your brother got through, circling like a shark fin.

Slowly, voices disperse. The garden is quiet. Rustles of leaves. It feels like anywhere else on Earth.

Someone sits down beside you. You don’t raise your head to see who it is, don’t care to. Tenmyouji is identified for you anyway through his haggard weary sigh.

There’s a hesitant, awkward hand on your back. You remember the same sort of unsure movement after he inadvertently proved your brother was alive, last year.Not last year. 46 years before now.Very slightly, you lean into it. For a while, you sit with the background sound of Quark’s bright voice and Tenmyouji’s quiet responses.

“…Hi, Junpei.”

“… Maybe I shouldn’t say something like this. Considering the circumstances. But… It’s good to see you, Clover.”

You lift your head far enough to look at him, narrowly framed between your raised knees and falling fringe. Trying to recognise the face you knew. He’s so old. Skin all wrinkled and rough and speckled with little scars and marks. Have his eyes changed? Wearier. Deeper set. But… still him, right? You know Junpei, in the shape of his face and sharp brown eyes and rumply button-up shirts.

He looks so worn down and used from when you knew him. Somehow, you remember a day you went through some old boxes at your mother’s house, and you found a cotton doll you used to love as a kid all grimed up and falling apart. Her arm was coming out of its socket and her hair was matted with cobwebs. You couldn’t bring yourself to throw her away after abandoning her. Light scolded you for keeping something like that.

“You look terrible,” you mumble. It’s true.He laughs. Short barks. Genuinely amused. “Go easy on me. You haven’t aged a day.”

You wince.

“Er… Sorry. That was probably, uh… Too soon.”

He rubs the back of his head awkwardly. It clicks more in your head as Junpei would have done that too, than entirely this IS Junpei.

“Where did you go? You never called. You just left us. You -”

He helped you a lot. He was important to you. He was a lot of the reason you made it through your second Nonary Game without breaking. You won’t say any of that. You’re too hurt. You don’t want him to know by how much.

It’s really, really not what’s most important for you to address here. To him, this was a lifetime ago. Still, it’s the words that come out of you. It’s easier to look at what went wrong with one person than to think about the end of the entire world.

“Did you really spend this entire time looking for Akane? Maybe we could’ve even helped! You think I didn’t want a word with those two!?”

“I was a stubborn idiot. I wanted to do it myself.“

“I just… Weren’t we friends?” 

You sound pitiful. LIke a child. You can’t hold as much shame about it when that’s exactly how you feel.

“Of course we were, Clover. Of course.”

A pause, and he begins to talk again.“Listen, you’re still very -”

With slow movements, almost on an autopilot, you unfold your body and carefully step to the ground. You hear yourself speak as if through a wall of glass.

“I have to find my brother.”

“Huh?”

“He could be in trouble. I’ll go look for him.” You speak slowly.

“Clover…”

"No, don’t say it!”

You snap. Loud in the quiet garden. Quark’s eyes go wide.

“I… I have to track him down. I need to find Light.”

Standing up, your legs still feel numb. Junpei rises to join you. Isn’t he shorter than he used to be? Frailer. Looking up to his face…

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s… going to be a hard ask. Finding one person, if he’s even still… Trust me on that one.”

“I don’t care. What else am I supposed to do? If he’s out there - he’s out there! I have to find him.”

Light just can’t be dead. You can’t let him be dead. Not again.

“Junpei. Help me.”

He meets your pleading gaze with grief. Maybe for what’s going to happen, maybe for what’s gone by.(While you’re in denial, he’s finally beginning to hit acceptance.)Tenmyouji casts his head down with a big heavy sigh.

“…I can’t do that again, Clover. I’m sorry.”

Your limbs tremble in equilibrium fear and rage.

"Fine! I don’t need you anyway!”

You don’t know what you’re walking out into. You don’t have a clue where to start. This shouldn’t have been done to you, but -  Wouldn’t you have died long ago if it wasn’t?

The world Tenmyouji described… If you were lucky enough to survive the first fallout you don’t think you could have coped with the aftermath. Never on your own. Your life was going to be torn from you no matter what. But Akane and Zero Sr - Sigma - they took your brother. Whatever happened to you, you should have had Light.

(You’re glad Alice is here with you. You’re so selfish. You’re so weak.)

“Clover, wait. Come back with us,” Tenmyouji speaks. “It’s not much, but we have a home. You’re welcome to stay. As long as you need.

I never thought I’d see you again. If you’re going to look for him, at least let us send you on your way. I’ll see what we can spare.”

“Miss Clover, we wanna help,” Quark speaks up.

Tears sting at your eyes.

"I don’t know what else to do. If he’s out there I have to look for him. I can’t just… forget about him. If he’s alive I can’t let him keep thinking I’m dead. I don’t - I don’t know how to live without my brother. He has to be… I need him.”

You feel small, and lost, and pathetic. A speck of dust on the moon, imperceptible to anyone. You’re shivering. Someone reaches out.

You’ll find yourself back in a spacesuit, pod doors opening to bring you to a world you won’t be able to recognise.

“So, you knew Grandpa a really long time ago, right? He never talks about when he was young. You can tell me all the stories about him.”

Quark’s voice is bright and unhindered. He has no idea of the scale of what he never had. But… It seems like he’s okay with what he does.

Next to him stands Junpei, and on your left is Alice. Alice has even less than you do now, but you’re certain she’ll pull something together. You need to prove to her you can be strong this time.

It’s not a miraculous, against-all-odds outcome that you have people you know with you past the end of the world. You’re all only here because this was committed against you by the same woman who put you through a death game once before. And by the same woman who’s kept you alive, if lifeless.

You don’t know where you’re going. You don’t know how you’ll do it. You could be gone tomorrow.

But at least you have somewhere to start.

[melonteee]

First I really would like to thank you for your amazing work, it’s thanks to your videos that I finally kicked myself into catching up on OP. I don’t regret it the slightest, thank you for dragging me back into my life-long mad obsession, it really feels like coming home lmao.

Your Law video in particular really punched me in the guts, your analysis really shed a new light on him for me and now I’m obsessed with him. I was thinking about the potential place of guilt in Law’s quest of avenging Cora, especially survivor’s guilt and it's something that is worth mentioning I think. I noticed that Law blames himself a lot in his flashback, saying at several occasions that Cora’s been hurt because of him, and also in the light novel, where he loses himself in “what if”, where guilt eats him alive to the point of having nightmares and even telling himself than if he hadn’t met Cora then Cora would still be alive. That’s such a sad thing to think.

For survivors who suffer from this kind of ptsd, the mere fact of being alive is a constant source of guilt and anxiety. Law probably doesn’t feel worthy of living over the sacrifice of Cora, feels responsible for his death and overly blames his whole existence for it. His already existing feelings of worthlessness (induced by Doffy’s teaching methods, the internalized rejection due to amber lead and the emotional neglect he suffered from) and this overwhelming guilt definitely feed into each other in a vicious circle. This leads him to this need of constantly trying to make sense of his survival and his existence, like trying to pay penance and justify being alive. This is why he came to overburdening himself with the responsibility of avenging Cora’s death, and why he was so self-destructive while doing so. Because there’s also a strong process of identification to the deceased, as a coping mechanism. The survivors have this need to mirror the suffering the deceased went through, it’s a way for them to feel closer to the dead, like if they want to join them in death. It’s the survivor’s attempt to regain his own identity and to reduce the guilt and the psychological distress. I can definitely see that in Law, in how he made Corazon his whole identity, and how he was very willing to die to achieve his quest. There’s definitely a martyr complex going on there. He launched his whole-ass plan at 26 years old, same age Cora died, and I refuse to believe this is a coincidence. It's like he was forbidding himself to live longer than Cora did. And to think that he had all this simmering in him for basically half of his life...that's insane.

Anyway to me this guilt plays a lot in Law’s dedication to Cora and his obsession in avenging him. I also think about how he felt responsible for dragging Luffy into his mess and how he was willing to die as a penance. For me it is also one of the things that definitively separate Law from Doffy on a fundamental level. Because Doffy never has shown the slightest amount of guilt for everything he did, and while he might feel regrets for having killed his brother, regrets are different than remorses.

I’m sorry that was a long one. Told you I was obsessed. I hope the read was interesting anyway!

This is an amazing read anon! I don't have much else to say other than I totally agree! Law's character totally explores survivor's guilt, even if not said outright. It hits double hard considering not ONLY has he gotten this guilt from Corazon dying, but from being the ONLY survivor of Flevance town as well.

Robin was similar in this case, thinking her life was somewhat expendable and 'allowing' herself to die. The only thing is, Robin very much DIDN'T want to, she just saw no way to be ABLE to live. Her mother told her she must live, and Robin only found the will to KEEP living and being ALLOWED to live due to the Strawhats.

Law, on the other hand, was seemingly ready to die from the get go. At 10, he accepted his death from white lead poisoning - expecting to die at 13. Then, after Corazon saved him, Law fully expected to die at 26 with his fight against Doflamingo.

Law has never been able to grasp his own life in his hands, it feels as if he's had this idea he SHOULDN'T be alive and - since he IS alive - he must be alive for SOMETHING. Which is why when Sengoku tells him that ALL Corazon would want is for Law to LIVE, the way LAW wants, it was a big thing for Law!

Law's never had the thought that maybe he can just...exist. Maybe he doesn't need to be alive for a reason. There's truly an aspect of survivor's guilt in such an idea.

BUT now, thanks to Luffy and the people around him, Law's managed to break away from this line of thought. Law is truly starting to live for himself now, and it's wonderful to see!

[eelifnazfirat]

The Mist

Do you know that quiet girl who always reads in classes? Yes, I am her. But the quality that differentiates me from a huge part of the population is the way my imagination processes the things I read. My favorite genre is fantasy because I feel like it opens thousands of different portals with each novel. The problem starts here, a normal person goes on with their life after finishing a great book right? Well, I can’t. Most of the time I find myself spacing out, feeling the world slipping through my fingers. I wake up to a new reality, and even worse, I don’t know what to expect. Sometimes I find myself having a cup of tea with Percy Jackson, walking through the glorious halls of Hogwarts with Hermione Granger, trying to live a generous life with Peeta Mellark after being a victor in the Hunger Games, pulling off an impossible heist with the Crows, accompanying Cress Darnel in her endless exilation around the Luna…  It sounds nice, but it isn’t when you are trying to focus on something important. I mostly feel like I am not my body, my mind or my thoughts. Before you go, “Oh, you don’t have to be like everyone else.” I would like to remind you how humans react when they see something different. This is probably how racism, ableism, sexism, and tons of discriminative states of mind were created and I don’t expect people to understand me. These aren’t the only problems with me, I have an imaginary friend. Her name is Melinoe and she is the constant voice in my head. I named her. Melinoe is the Greek goddess of spirits and ghosts so I think it fits. (Did I mention my obsession with Greek Mythology?) The problem is, even when I want her to disappear she is always in the back of my mind and she is so unstable. She is my best friend but she can also destroy my self-confidence in seconds by whispering negative thoughts in my ear. I keep hearing and seeing things that aren’t real. I hear people whispering mean things about me every single time I walk through halls, order at restaurants or even when I am just trying to cross the road! I know those people aren’t talking about me, it’s a part of my visions but it succeeds to hurt me every time. I think all my imaginations are a coping mechanism. I used to deal with a lot of problems. (Mostly parents arguing and not being able to resolve anything without involving me in their issues, my mom kicking my dad out whenever she feels like it, my mothers monthly states of depression in which she refuses to cook and clean…) As you can guess my relationship with both of them is destroyed. I don’t have friends so my only activity is sitting in my room and opening the same magic portals over and over again while my lack of human communication keeps decreasing my ability to love myself, to get out of this state of mind that I can’t feel like I belong in my body. The worst part is, I have repeated this unhealthy pattern so many times that it became comforting. Do I feel like I hate myself? No problem! I will just blame it on Melinoe instead of seeking help because she's the one that whispers mean things in my ear anyways! I know this is wrong and quite pathetic but I never learned to deal with it healthily. Also, I can’t help but realize that I am the one holding myself back. Time and spirits whisper in my ear that I have to let them go but as always, I choose to ignore it, trying to save time before even they abandon me, leave me to suffer in this agonizing pain that keeps growing every time I realize how little time I have left with my comfort zone. Whatever I do, I can’t help but realize the mortality of time. I force myself to make my thoughts flow to text so I can amplify the emotions I am feeling. I am forcing myself on something that isn’t a pattern. I am preparing myself for the inevitable end. Only mortal time will tell what the ending will bring. Will I destroy myself before it gets to me or will it catch me unarmed and shatter me to the littlest bits?   

[ladiesandwitches]

Listening to Vivienne's explanations, her accounts of the arsonist and the cause of his fires, it suddenly became clear in Scully's mind as to just what precisely was going on, and why there were so many discrepancies in the attacks.

"Like Cecil L'Ively," Scully said to Mulder, referring to one of their first cases together, of a man who had seemingly had the power not only to create fire, but to survive it. "He could be extremely dangerous." More so than Cecil who, while a multiple murderer, had been aware of his power as well as having full mastery of it. Scully couldn't imagine what would happen to someone who had same power but with a complete absence of control.

"I'll let Skinner know that no agent should approach him if they catch him in the act, not until we get there," Mulder agreed, already texting a message to the AD. The upside of going through so many things with your boss was an access to a private line. "And I don't make a habit of chasing dangerous things if I can help it," Mulder added, looking at the girl once he'd finished his message. "Not unless it's trying to hurt someone else. So how do we take the power out of this guy? Ideally without getting toasted in the process."

Scully thought of L'Ively, of his painting rocket fuel of an entire house, the bodies he left in his wake, and how even he couldn't control what he was capable of in the end. She had no desire to see a similar finale again.

"Our office is mostly over-crowded with document boxes and filing cabinets," Scully told her, smiling a little at the enthusiasm and wondered how quickly it would die once she saw what the FBI basement room was actually like, how stuffy, and how it was a constant reminder of just how much she and Mulder's work was pushed into the shadows. "But yes, our cases are...a little different," she allowed, knowing Mulder would be all too eager to fill in the gaps.

"UFOs, vampires, psychic phenomena, psychokinesis, possession, ghosts, witchcraft, succubae, demonic forces--"

"Don't mind him; he'll go on forever," Scully told her, and despite cutting him off, there was affection in her expression which was matched in Mulder's own look as he turned to her, pretending to be offended by the interruption. Though Vivienne hadn't known them very long at all, she had been right in her summation that it often felt like it was the two of them against the world. When she started her work at the FBI, she hadn't imagined this was the direction her life would take, that her assignment to the X Files would change her life in so many ways, and for all the losses and the suffering, even if she knew all those things would happen for certain...she wouldn't change a day. She'd do it all over again.

"If you're so directly in danger, then all the more reason for Agent Mulder and I to stay with you. I know you don't believe it, but trust me when I say we can help keep you safe." And while the girl didn't seem convinced her gun would help, in her experience even things seemingly immune to bullets were inevitably slowed down by them.

Such as the men who tried to come for her son.

Feeling the hand over hers, Scully looked over at Vivienne, offering her a small smile in return.

"He was different," she explained. "Capable of things that shouldn't have been possible. Powers that would only have gotten stronger and which certain people wanted to use. Groups that believed he would make the perfect super-soldier." Wanting a baby, not being able to have one, having that taken away from her before finding one last chance, one last attempt, a miracle. Only for the same groups they had fought for so long, who had caused so much hurt and pain, wanting to take this away from her as well.

"After one group successfully kidnapped him, and after we found him and he was safe, I realised it would never stop. That as long as they knew he was mine and Mulder's son that they'd know what he was capable of, that they'd keep trying to find him." She didn't know why he had those powers, if it was to do with her own abduction or what Mulder had gone through or something else, she didn't know and she didn't care; she only cared about keeping him safe. "I gave him up for adoption. Closed so that no one would ever find him, not even us." There was a heavy pause and Scully felt tears threatening, stinging her eyes, while a heavy lumped caught in her throat. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

" ms scully.. " hearing her protesting to mulder's words, vivi knew she had to cut in. he's already worked it out, what was the point ? when they find the arsonist's burned body, they'll have even more questions if she won't tell them now. " ms scully.. he's right. "

her gaze switched between the two of them, carefully trying to pick the right words to not scare them or make them feel she went nuts from the concussion. " the arsonist has fire power he can't control. he's a mortal.. a normal person, they never should have powers. it was never meant for him, so it overtakes him. " vivi tried to sound logical and watched their reaction, although she had a feeling this was exactly what mulder wanted her to confirm. " it's nothing big, just basic level fireballs, not the typical pyrokinesis, but it's enough for a mortal.. the only way to save him is to take the power out of him, but i don't know where he is.. it could be already too late. "

the explanation was hard to believe, but it was true. they wanted the truth, here it was. it was their choice whether to believe it or call her crazy. " the blood doesn't belong to human, you're right again.. " this guy was good, she thought. it had to be true, that they've heard and seen many things, no other explanation could provide this kind of knowledge they had. " if i told you whose blood it is, would you chase it, mr mulder ? even if it was dangerous ? "

good heart. it could be a reason, but definitely not the reason. something else was underneath. although one thing she couldn't deny. " i won't try to argue with that, ms scully did read me well the first time we met, even though i was less than kind to her.. so i doubt i deserve her help now. "

the atmosphere in the room changed quickly. what seemed to be an interrogation, now felt like a conversation. the big scary agents, like she perceived them just a moment ago, were just humans, with their own feelings, emotions, their own story. and vivi listened to them carefully, just learning about them. if she had to compare, they were nothing like homeland security, they didn't demand, didn't order, they tried to talk it out. and that was the biggest change that made her feel safer around them.

and they did understand. from the way they were talking vivi got an impression that they weren't fans of the government either and that was actually a good sign. " the basement, you've got office in the basement ? oh i'd love to see that. there are no cooler places than attics and basements. " she smiled in a more relaxed tone. " spooky is the only right way, if it's not spooky, it's boring.. you two don't handle typical crimes, right ? you handle my type of cases.. " a question asked out loud, but the answer was hanging in the air.

" it's all about trust, isn't it ? it seems odd.. such big organization is behind your back and you seem to not trust them at all, like it's just the two of you against the world. " a feeling very familiar to her. trust no one who's not your family, and even family, sometimes, could get lost in what's good and what's not. but right now in this moment when her family had no idea about her being here ? trust no one.

" mr mulder, i don't want to be a problem for you. just get me out of here and it's more than enough help— " she tried to protest along with scully, but mulder was already out of the room, talking on the phone. for a moment they were both quiet, looks like she was indeed their problem now. " i'm serious.. you said i'm not in danger from you, but you are in danger around me. they will come here to finish what they started.. it's not the matter of if, but a matter of how soon. and i'm not sure if that thing would protect you. " that thing still meaning the gun, yes it scared her a lot lot. not because it was scully who had it, just the general idea that there was a gun around.

vivi looked up at scully to see if her words could convince her, but what she saw was something else. scully wasn't listening to her, vivi could see her mind was far away.. so she waited. whatever scully wanted to say, she waited.

a son ? now she was beginning to understand. she and scully shared the same pain. scully lost a child and vivi lost a mother, two sides of the same pain that will never go away, never fade, never hurt any less. it was motherly instinct that pushed the woman to helping vivi. not her duty as an agent, not her curiosity, like mulder, but compassion. she gets it now. it didn't happen often with her usually daring attitude, but vivi felt at the loss of words.

fuck crushed shoulder and broken arm, even the IV plug on top of her hand. with a held back wince, vivi reached out and laid her hand on top of scully's. " had ? " she asked just as quietly, as if she wanted no one else to hear their conversation. " ..can i ask what happened to him ? you don't need to answer that. " realizing how much courage it had to take to say those words out loud, vivi didn't want to press for an answer. the more she watched, the more she listened, she hated the way this world worked, the bond between mothers and their children wasn't meant to be broken. " ..i think i understand what you're feeling, at least a part of it, i hope so. "

" it's not easy to talk about such intimate things, especially with someone you just met and i.. thank you for this trust. "

[sacredsorceress]

Green || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: three times bucky realized you were more than a friend and the one time he finally admitted it (based on events from tfatws)

a/n: finishing this in time for the season finale tomorrow! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of reader wearing a short dress, jealous bucky

masterlist || request || taglist

#1

“Nice of you guys to call me.”

Your hands in your jacket pockets, you announced your presence as you strolled up to the group of four men standing outside of the police station. You could basically feel the tension in the air as each man had a resolute expression written on all over their faces.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, slipping your hands out of your pockets and gesturing towards the group.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

You might have been nicer about the situation if you weren’t utterly pissed that the two men hadn’t informed you about the mission that they had gone on.

“Incase you forgot, Sam, you’re not the only one who’s had to pick up where someone else left off. It’s my job to keep track of you guys.” You said. “... Also I’m Bucky’s emergency contact.”

“Well,” The blonde man leaning against the police cruiser said. “You’re a little late. I handled it.”

Looking up at the man in front of you, you gave him no inclination of defeat.

“You must be John Walker.” You said.

“So you’ve heard of me?” He smirked.

You crossed your arms, stepping away from the man who you had seen on television playing the role of Captain America. You had heard about the decision moments before the government had first displayed the impersonator on screen, but it had been too late for you to do anything about it or to inform Sam or Bucky in time for his appearance.

“I’ve heard of everyone.” You deadpanned.

“Yeah?” He asked, standing up straighter. “And who are you?”

Just as you were about to open your mouth, you felt Bucky’s hand land on your shoulder. Turning to glance at him, you watched as he shook his head, giving you a serious look. Despite the fact that you were now tasked with keeping track of the former members of the group of Avengers and were one yourself, you had been able to keep your identity a secret. Although to the world you were “Sorceress”- the Avenger with magical powers similar to those of Wanda Maximoff- to members of the team such as Bucky you were Y/n Y/l/n.

He didn’t trust John Walker and he didn’t want to bring you into their own mess. Although Bucky had been avoiding Sam’s text messages, Bucky had kept in constant touch with you since you first met him after he had come back from the Blip six months ago- even going as far as spending time together multiple times a week in person- not because you had to keep track of him, but because the two of you genuinely enjoyed spending time together. 

You were the closest thing he had to normalcy and he didn’t want the knockoff version of his best friend messing it up not only for himself, but for you too.

However, you didn’t see much of a way out of it. You weren’t going to just leave Bucky and Sam to handle the situation on their own, but you also didn’t see a way that you could work alongside them and not have John and Lemar figure out your identity sooner or later.

Gently taking Bucky’s hand off of your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before dropping it, you reached out your hand to John Walker.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You told him. “Sorceress... and I guess the current caretaker of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.”

Later, after the group had dispersed and you followed Sam and Bucky as they walked in the opposite direction, you were surprised when you heard Bucky’s tone of voice when he finally spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t have given him your name, Y/n.” He said.

You shrugged, hands tucked into your pockets once again. “It’s fine, Buck.” You assured him. “There wasn’t much else I could do. He was going to find out eventually-”

“Don’t act so casual about it. This is your identity- your life- and you’re just going to share it with some asshole like John Walker?”

“Woah!” You exclaimed, stopping in your spot. “What’s your problem, Buck? Why do you care so much?”

Noticing how both you and Sam were staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to comprehend why he was making such a “big deal” about it, Bucky grew embarrassed, not understanding himself why he cared so much. Rather than admitting defeat however, Bucky threw up his hands, scoffing.

“Forget it, Y/n. I don’t care. Do what you want.”

And with that he picked up the pace, walking in the opposite direction of where you and Sam stood confused in your spots.

#2

“I couldn’t have worn something- I don’t know- a bit longer?” You called to the three men ahead of you, following them into the club as you tugged on the hem of your short dress.

“This a club in Madripoor, Y/n.” You heard Zemo say. “If you wore anything else you would be giving us away.”

Groaning you steadied yourself in your heels following behind Zemo and Sam. You slowed your pace to walk besides Bucky who had insisted on being at the back of the line behind you- telling everyone that it would be safer for everyone if he kept their backs covered.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as quietly as you could in the loud club.

“What?” He asked.

“How are you feeling? With the while Winter Soldier thing? If you don’t think you can handle it we can find another way-”

“It’s fine, Y/n.” He said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Instead of letting it go, you gently placed your hand on his exposed, vibranium arm, causing him to stop in his spot, looking at you.

“Bucky, I’m serious.” You said. “You matter too. If you can’t handle it, I’ll find a way to get the information without all of this, okay? I care about you, Buck. Just say the word.”

He almost couldn't focus on the words coming out of your mouth as he tried to keep his eyes focused on your face, rather than trailing down your body, finally noticing just how short the dress that was adorning your body was. As good as you looked in green, he swore he would kill Zemo once he got what he needed from him for dressing you in that.

As gorgeous as you were, however, your words meant everything to him and he hung on to every single one- no matter what you were saying. Hearing the sentiment that you had for him and that you would stick your neck out for him of all people made him speechless.

Just as he was about to open his mouth however, the two of you began to feel the eyes of other partygoers staring the two of you down. As soon as you noticed, you quickly snatched your hand away from his arm and continued your pace in front of him, Bucky quickly following behind.

“Distracted?” Zemo asked as Bucky stopped beside him at the bar.

Rather than answering, Bucky remained silent, falling into character with the thought of your shared interaction still playing over and over in his mind.

#3

Coughing on his hands and knees, trying to process what had just happened, all Bucky could hear was the obnoxious sound of the alarm blaring. When he opened his eyes again he saw the shipping container now consumed with flames and illuminated with a daunting red light. Recalling what had just occurred, he scrambled to his feet, calling out for you.

“Y/n?” He called. “Y/n!”

When he didn't immediately hear your voice, he began to feel his heart race in his chest. What if something happened to you? What if you were too close to the explosion? He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something had happened to you. Just as he was beginning to start hyperventilating, the smoke catching in his chest causing him to double over and heave, he felt your hands wrap around either of his biceps.

“Buck?” You asked. “I’m- I’m so sorry. It happened so fast I couldn’t get a forcefield around everyone. Thank God you’re okay. I was so afraid something happened-”

Cutting you off, Bucky shook your hands off of his arms, instead pulling you into his arms. Although you and the super soldier had spent more quality time than you could count together prior to starting this mission, you had never hugged before, but being in his arms you couldn’t find a single complaint, instead silently wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, running your hands up and down his back.

“Hey it’s okay, Buck. I’m okay.” You said. “Let’s go, okay? Before this thing collapses on us.”

After that the two of you had followed Sam and Sharon into the area of shipping containers, taking out hitman by hitman along the way, when you had finally gotten through all of them, you watched as Zemo pulled up in a car besides the four of you.

“Nice ride.” You said as Bucky slipped into the front seat of the vehicle, yourself sliding into one of the seats in the back row.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Zemo replied, patting Bucky on the chest. “She’s a woman of taste.”

Bucky swore to himself for the second time within the past 12 hours that when given the chance he was going to kill the man beside him- with or without his therapist’s approval.

“You’re not going to move your seat up are you?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Bucky said.

“That’s fine.” Sam conceded. “I guess I’ll just chill back here with Y/n.”

You laughed as Sam laid his arm against headrest of the backseats of the car.

“I’m fine with that.” You said. “Just me and my favorite person.”

Now Bucky knew that you were kidding, only teasing him to get a rise out of him, but glancing at the backseat and seeing Sam’s arm practically around your shoulders and you calling him your favorite person... just didn’t sit right with Bucky. Just as Zemo’s foot was about to hit the gas, Bucky shifted the car into park, swinging the door open and stepping out of the vehicle.

“What-”

“You can have the front.” Bucky said, swinging Sam’s door open.

“It’s really okay, Buck-”

“You said you wanted more space so you can have the front.” He said. “Go sit in the front.”

You watched as Sam turned to you, quirking his eyebrows before shrugging and stepping out of the car, switching to the passenger seat. You almost wanted to laugh as you watched Bucky squeeze into the backseat behind the passenger seat, his knees practically up against his chest.

“You good?” You asked.

Despite the groan that had involuntarily escaped his mouth from the discomfort of the front seat digging into his knees, Bucky nodded, stretching his arm out across the backseat, behind your shoulders.

“I’m great.” He assured you. “Now drive, Zemo.”

Although you didn’t catch it, the two men sitting in the front seat- despite their differences- couldn’t help but throw each other a knowing look before the car took off for their next destination.

#4

“Hey!” Torres called. “I see you got your sleeve back!”

You chuckled as you turned to glance at the man stood beside you. Despite it being a joke, not a single hint of a smile cracked the man’s hard exterior. The only reason he didn’t walk out of the room on the spot was because you were standing beside him.

“He’s just in a bad mood today.” You said, reaching your hand out to shake Torres’. “I’m Y/n.”

Taking your hand and shaking it in his, he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you doing hanging around these guys?” He asked. “...Not that you can’t handle yourself! Sam just won’t even invite me on these things.”

Pulling your hand away from his, you smiled. “Think you can keep a secret?”

As soon as you asked the question you watched as the confusion written all over his face grew even more and you could hear Sam chuckling in the background.

“I’m Sorceress.” You said. “Like the Avenger? I just try to keep my identity pretty secret, you know?”

As soon as you revealed your identity to him, you watched as the man’s face dropped and he turned to look at Sam who was standing behind him.

“Wait- she’s-” Torres stuttered.

Sam nodded, laughing.

“Yep.” Sam said. “She’s the one you’ve been hounding me about setting you up with.”

Although you weren’t paying attention to him, Bucky had already disliked how the conversation was going- finding Torres to be a little too friendly for his liking and not loving that you exposed your identity to him immediately- but when he heard Sam’s confession, he stiffened in his spot, hands balling into fists at his side.

“What? Dude!” Torres exclaimed, glancing back and forth between you and Sam before finally turning back to you, chuckling nervously. “He's just kidding! I would never have a crush on you- wait! That came out wrong! Not that you’re not pretty because you are- I just think you’re cool-”

You continued laughing as the man stumbling over his words in front of you, finding it endearing until you heard the super soldier scoff beside you. You glanced at him only to see him cross his arms while rolling his eyes before making his way out of the room.

Turning back to Torres you gave him a quick smile, pulling a card out of your pocket. “I have to go, but it was nice to meet you Torres. If these boys get in trouble again, make sure to call me first thing, okay?”

He took the card from your hand, nodding. “Uh yeah- yeah! Of course!”

With that you waved to both him and Sam before following the path Bucky had taken out of the room seconds before.

Seeing his figure pacing across the room, you threw your arms up in the air.

“What’s your problem?” You asked.

Stopping in his spot he turned to face you.

“What?” He said. “I don’t have a problem.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms. 

“Uh yeah. You do.” You said. “Did I do something to piss you off or something? Are you mad at me for coming on the mission? Because I’m sorry if I wanted to help save the world and make sure you guys didn’t get killed in the process.”

Bucky just stopped and stared at you standing across from him with your arms crossed. He hated to admit it, but you look pissed at him. It hurt knowing that you were upset with him, but it hurt a little more knowing that you felt as though he was mad at you when in actuality that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Y/n.” He said, stepping closer to you. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why did you just storm out of the room?” You asked.

He couldn’t think of a reason besides the truth. He could lie and say that he was   mad at you, but that wouldn’t solve the situation for anyone and could possibly strain your relationship farther- and that was the last thing he could possibly want.

The two of you stood there in silence, staring at one another as Bucky attempted to find the words in his head to ease your concern without exposing himself in the process.

But you were never one to back down with him.

“Bucky,” You said. “What’s the problem? What did I do? Why are you so angry-”

“Because I don’t like the way that guy was talking to you!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

“What?” You asked. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky realized he was in it now. He couldn’t see a way out of it.

For the past week, Bucky couldn’t help but notice that he cared for you a bit more than friends should. Maybe he always did. He thought back to the times he would eagerly await your weekly lunches or the comfort he felt when you took him furniture shopping after seeing his empty apartment for the first time. He thought back to the times you would show up outside of his door when he was upset because you were the only person he trusted there with him in those intimate moments- he knew that you were more than just his colleague, but he realized now that you were more than his friend.

Recently it became more obvious, the burning in his chest he felt when others became a little too comfortable with you- he attempted to mask it with just wanting to protect you, but he knew you could handle yourself. He was protective over you so he wouldn’t lose you.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, he cupped your face in his hands. He watched as your eyes widened, but didn’t make any move to stop him. When he caught your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, he pulled you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t kissed anyone in eighty years, but he had never felt the way he had in that moment before. He was so utterly consumed in you- the feeling of your hands reaching for his jacket, tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss, your soft lips against his, your warm breath against his face- he was lost in it.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t want to let go, but leaned back anyway, staring at his world- you- that he now held in his hands.

“Buck...”

“I think I like you more than a friend.” He confessed.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at his words. You had always cared for Bucky as more than just your former fellow Avenger, but knowing that he felt the same as you was something you could hardly believe.

“I think I do too.” You laughed, then recalled what you had come in there for in the first place. “James, were you... were you jealous?”

Thinking back over the past week the two of you had spent together on the mission, he could almost laugh at the question you had just asked.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckled. “Yeah. You could say I was a little bit jealous.”

[bludhavents]

things that each greaser struggles with:

these are mostly headcanons i came up with. also, this gets pretty angsty.

content warning: alcoholism, addiction, anxiety.

darry:

- maturity. he thinks everybody looks at him like the “dad” of the group instead of just another friend, and he loathes it. he misses whenever he was able to skip work to catch a movie at the drive-in or take ponyboy and sodapop up to the dingo for lunch.

- accidental intimidation. his build is very large and strong, which is good for his job and for when he’s actually trying to, well, intimidate people, but other than that it just makes him feel guilty for being so unapproachable.

- relationships. specifically, darry is very insecure in his relationship with pony. he especially hates it whenever pony dogs on him for forgetting things or accusing him of not caring.

- emotional intelligence. he knows he comes across as cold. and he hates it. he has lots of emotions and he doesn’t air them out in a healthy way, so he tries his best to cut all the emotions off altogether in hopes that the negativity will stop, but it just makes him feel even more insecure.

- social skills. in high school, it was all much easier for him, but now that he’s working full-time and running the household, he’s fallen majorly behind in the social scene. he never goes out to the drive-in or to the dingo, and at first it was because he was too busy, but now, even if he doesn’t have a shift, he’ll make up some excuse because he’s too nervous to go and have to talk to people again since he feels like he’s gonna mess up.

- identity. darry was just starting to feel comfortable in himself and in his role in the world right before his parents died, and when they did, he stopped trying to figure out what made him happy. it has made him insecure of the emotional stint that is centered around his ego and sense of self.

sodapop:

- smarts. it’s canon that he’s insecure about this.

- growing up. while everybody else moves on to new things and grows up, he feels like he’s stuck in the same place watching everybody else progress while he stays behind. this was especially true after sandy left, because marrying her was going to be this huge exciting step in his life and when she left, he didn’t have that fulfillment anymore.

- reassurance. he feels a constant need for approval, and he will take it wherever he can get it. there’s a sort of pride he gets whenever he sees a girl checking him out, but there’s a deeper feeling telling him that she’s gonna run away once she finds out about how ‘stupid’ he is.

- authority. soda has a really hard time talking to people who are in a position of power. he gets all nervous and his hands get sweaty and his face goes sheet white in panic. his charm and social skill is enough to satisfy a conversation with a person his age, but he feels silly trying to be confident in front of an adult. he feels like they look down on him and will laugh.

- fatherhood. he’s very insecure about having a family in the future. he feels like he never appreciated his dad’s skilled parenting while he could, and since then darry has been a sort of fatherly figure in the house, but it’s hard for soda to see it that way. he grew up for 16 years with darry as a big brother and for him to suddenly be forced into a father role is troubling for soda. because of this complicated dynamic between soda and fatherhood, he feels like he won’t be able to be the best father possible for his children.

- legs. he hates his legs. you will never see soda in a pair of shorts, not even when he’s swimming. he doesn’t like the way they’re shaped and thinks that they make the rest of his body look odd, so he wears loose jeans to hide them. he’s also embarrassed of being embarrassed about them, so nobody knows, not even steve.

dallas:

- emotional intelligence. his lack of emotional intelligence is something he battles with a lot. he understands what people are feeling, but he has a hard time understanding why they feel that way. he says it’s because he’s too tuff to deal with emotions, but deep down he knows it’s because he was thrust into a traumatic childhood so early on that he never had time to build emotional bonds with people that would strengthen his empathy and understanding.

- his past, another canon take. he hates talking about it, even the good stuff, because when he thinks about new york all he can picture is 10 year old dallas watching a man being covered in a white sheet by the paramedics on the side of the road. he thinks about his friends from there and knows they’re all either locked up or dead, and it ruins any enjoyment he gets from reminiscing on the good times.

- health. he definitely has crohn’s or IBS or something else that makes his stomach hurt whenever he eats, and it embarrasses him to no end. he’s always anxious that his stomach is going to start hurting when he’s with the gang and is going to have to find some excuse to leave. he smokes so much while he’s out with them to keep from getting hungry until he gets back to buck’s place.

- his friendships. the shepherd gang is close-knit. then, the curtis’ are brothers, steve has known them forever, and two-bit is outgoing enough to make himself fit in to the group. johnny is the closest person dallas relates to, and it’s the friendship hes the most secure in.

- his smile. he knows smoking ruins his teeth, and he knows they’re crooked all over, and he knows that when he smiles his lips crack and stretch out.

johnny:

- his appearance, canon insecurity. he looks young for his age, and when the gang found him in the lot after he was beaten by Socs, they all started treating him like he was young too. he didn’t think the scar on his face was tuff, it just reminded him of being attacked.

- his voice. this is less about how it sounds and more about him not being able to speak over the shouting at home. he hates yelling, and he won’t stand in to speak up for him cause he’s too afraid of being told to “stop yelling”.

- being average. johnny feels painfully average in everything he does. he’s tried to find a skill that he truly loves and wants to take time to be good at, but he always gets frustrated and quits before he can improve.

- romance. almost every aspect of it terrifies johnny. he doesn’t know what a healthy marriage looks like, what he does know was from Mr and Mrs Curtis, but seeing them die together warped his sense of love. he doesn’t understand why you would want to love somebody so much if you didn’t have to. he doesn’t like the “til death do us part” aspect of marriage, because it makes him feel trapped. he’s not afraid of commitment, he’s afraid that he will end up in a marriage like his parents’ and not be able to leave.

two-bit:

- alcoholism. he’s an alcoholic and he knows it, but he’s been stuck in the vicious cycle of addiction for such a long time that the only way he knows how to cope with the emotional baggage of addiction is to drink more.

- social awareness. as of now, he’s very self-aware and extremely skilled in reading a room, but he didn’t used to be. he used to crack jokes at the wrong time and get scolded for it, and it made him feel horrible. like he wasn’t able to experience all the same sad feelings as everybody else because they reacted differently to the sadness than he did. they wanted to process the sadness while he wanted to ignore it.

- being absent at home. he knows he spends the majority of time at the curtis house, and he also knows that his mother spends the majority of her time at work, which leaves his little sister at home alone. he has a good relationship with her, but he doesn’t like for her to see him drunk, and as his alcoholism progresses, that gets to be more and more often. he knows this, and it’s one of the main reasons he’s so insecure about his addiction, because she’s the one who let him know that it wasn’t a one-way street. his problem affected him and her.

- commitment. two-bit is young, but he feels old enough to know how relationships work. he saw his dad walk out on them, and he was never able to process how you could go from marrying someone to leaving and never looking back. at first, he thought that his dad was just a selfish jerk, but when he met johnny and saw that his parents were also married and simultaneously abusive, he convinced himself that all marriages were bound to end up that way. he believes that if the curtis’ lived longer, they would have eventually gotten bitter and tired of each other, because in his mind, that’s just what couples do.

ponyboy:

- confidence. he has a lot of insecurities, and they’re shared pretty evenly between physical and non physical. he doesn’t like his body or his eyes. he doesn’t like how impulsive and dramatic he is.

- security. not in himself, but in life. he’s permanently on edge, feeling anxious about who’s going to be around the corner and what would happen if he got jumped and how many Socs he’d be able to fight off in case anything happened. his parents’ sudden deaths did not help this. he feels like life is constantly tossing him around, and he never feels completely safe.

- emotional outbursts. this isn’t exclusive to ponyboy, but he struggles with it the most. he hates getting upset with people, and he hates hurting other people’s feelings. when he’s feeling too many things, he starts to speak without a filter and gets mad at the littlest things, and he knows that it makes everybody around him feel bad.

- fitting in. in contrast to johnny’s insecurity, ponyboy wants nothing more than to fit in. he’s tired of being the only greaser in his classes, he’s tired of his isolated taste in movies and theatre, he’s tired of being a track star, and he’s tired of all the pressure put on him since he isn’t average.

steve

- masculinity. his dad always enforces an unrealistic standard of being strong, independent, and logical. steve is inherently all of these things, but the pressure he feels to keep it up weighs him down.

- comparing himself to others. it started in middle school when he noticed all of the people liked sodapop more. from then on he couldn’t help but feel like soda was more attractive and charming, darry was stronger and smarter, two-bit was funnier and cooler, dallas was tougher and unbothered, johnny was more likeable and down-to-earth, and ponyboy was more creative and well spoken.

- addiction. there was a time in steve’s life where he was getting high every day. at first it was fun, but then he had to quit track because he wasn’t as athletic as he used to be. it ruined his health and motivation. he started working on cars more to keep himself busy, and it helped a lot, even got him a job.

- hyperindependence. steve’s biggest character flaw is that he can’t ask for help. whether it’s asking for help in school or asking for soda to hand him a tool in the garage, steve can’t bring himself to do ask. it makes him feel like he’s not good enough to do it on his own.

[thefanficmonster]

Wait a Minute

The Dooo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of teenage pregnancy, Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: While streaming with his friends, Dooo gets a surprise visitor who he hasn’t seen for quite some time - not really but even three days feel like a forever when parents are away from their children.

Requested by @nyctophiliiiiaaa  Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request and for introducing me to this amazing YouTuber/Streamer who is literally my spirit animal now XD Enjoy the fic! Love, Vy ❤

Note: Y/C/N - Your child’s name

The last three days have blended together in a blurry warp neither Dooo nor Y/N have been able to really process. Their home is quiet, too quiet, and these last few days have been way too calm and relaxed. It’s given them both the time to recharge their batteries and deal with the parent burnout that occurs when one needs to match a child’s energy almost 24/7. I mean sure, with Y/C/N now being twelve, the constant running around to make sure he doesn’t get hurt like a toddler would has lessened but he’s still one energetic kid that wants to involve his parents into everything.

And these last three days, Dooo and Y/N have been missing that greatly despite the satisfaction of being able to sit down to watch a movie and actually watch it or the ability to go to bed and actually sleep without the loud music or yelling coming from their son’s room. It’s been good, but it’s only good for so long - after a day and a half they were already starting to miss the little man.

Dooo has taken to streaming and practicing new riffs to get his mind off Y/C/N and his safety while Y/N is taking time to catch up with the work she hasn’t been able to do while helping her son with his homework. There’s a petty big disbalance in that area though - she’s got all the homework basis covered. From math and science to history and foreign languages while Dooo only helps with the music homework which Y/N can’t help with even if she wanted to. The only thing that evens it out is the fact that her husband does the other chores like cooking, setting up the table etc. while she is busying herself with her son’s homework, taking herself back to middle school.

And it boggles her brain to think that when she was Y/C/N’s age she was only four years away from getting pregnant with him.

“Bro, are you missing on purpose?!“ McNasty asks, or rather screams, into the mic at Dooo who really can’t be bothered to aim properly.

“Bro, are you distracting me on purpose?“ The accused retorts, finally being able to land a decent shot and get to safety before his own brains could get blown out.

“Are you two flirting on purpose?“ Soup interjects, pulling his own weight in the game unlike the distracted Dooo.

“I think they are. Guys, come on now, we’re playing Rainbow Six not a dating sim. Get it together!“ Blarg joins Soup’s neutral but mocking side of this ‘war‘ outside the game as the shootout continues.

“Since when do we need to be playing a dating sim for me to be able to flirt with McNasty. That’s like saying I need to marry him to sleep with him. I mean, I would marry him if I wasn’t already taken.“ Dooo casually says, shrugging his shoulders as his friends crack up.

“Taken? Taken as a fucking joke?“ Soup says, causing Blarg to laugh his lungs out twice as hard as he previously was.

Mocking joke at his expense or not, this manages to get Dooo doubling over with laugher too, “No...no *cackle* no, I was thinking more along the lines of...”

“Dad!“ The swinging of his office door comes sooner than the end of his sentence and Dooo finds himself tacked by the boy he swears was a whole foot or two shorter last week.

He swears he can remember holding him in his arms for the first time as though it was yesterday, how has there been twelve years from that moment till now he’ll never fathom.

“There’s my little man!“ Managing to stabilize his gamer chair back on all its legs, Dooo settles the boy in his lap like he’d do since the pediatrician told them it was ok for them to sit him down, aka when Y/C/N was only a year old. Back then he’d do it so the two could watch TV together or so he could hold the guitar as if he was teaching his son the ropes too. Y/N was fretting over school and also found a job, leaving her boyfriend with the baby most of the time but being a super affectionate mother every moment she got to spend with the little boy. When Y/C/N turned four, and when Dooo started streaming, he’d have his best friend accompany him on the streams, instructing the little guy to be quiet as he sat in his dad’s lap, mesmerized by the games on the screen before him. Afterwards he’d ask a ton of questions and retell it all to Y/N at the dinner table when she got back from work.

Seems like not much has changed since then, except maybe that their baby boy isn’t so much a baby anymore.

“I’m not a little man, dad! I’m not two!“ The kid complains but just about that nickname. Seems like he too misses enjoying the games his dad plays like he did as a toddler since he rarely has the time to do that nowadays.

“No, you’re not.“ Says Dooo seriously, “Back then you were a mini man. Now you’re a little man, and you will continue being one till you’re eighteen. That’s when you’ll lose the ‘little’ and be just a man. A grown-ass man.“

“How’s that fair?!“ The boy complains but freezes up when another voice, a more authoritative one, enters their bubble.

“Dooo, honey, how many times do I need to warn you about cursing in front of Y/C/N.“ While stern, Y/N’s tone is still playful, inviting smiles on both the man and the little man’s faces.

“Ass isn’t a curse word. Just a part of the body.“ The twelve-year-old explains as he approaches his mom, hugging her once again since he’s returned but this time more with the intention of getting his dad out of trouble.

“And here I thought we’ll be making cookies together later. Guess not.“ The woman shrugs too casually in contrast to the boy’s dramatic reaction. Y/C/N immediately lets go of her and takes off running down the hall.

“I’ll get my apron on!“ He calls back in the midst of his run, cracking up both his parents.

Y/N shakes her head, turning to her husband, “Well I better go put mine on too. You carry on with...that.” She points at his screen before turning on her heel to leave the room. Foolish of her to think he’d let her.

Dooo wheels his chair to her, taking a gentle hold of her arm before she could get far, “Nah, I don’t think so, hun. There are the confused-ass men in my headphones and a bunch of people watching who’d like an explanation to what just happened.” Seeing her shrug her shoulders, he takes it as an act of surrender, so he takes the opportunity to yank her to him, causing her to squeal as she lands in his lap. She sends a frown his way but he gets rid of it quickly as he tickles her sides, causing her to giggle, “I need ‘em to know that I’m taken in more ways than as a joke.”

With that, he doesn’t allow her to interject with anything sarcastic because he rips the headphones out of the speakers, allowing the confusion in the call to seep into the room.

“McNasty, Soup and Blarg, this is my wife and the mother of our child, Y/N. And yes, she does take me as a joke sometimes but I did take her hand in marriage, so that’s the only thing that fucking matters.“

There’s a brief moment of silence before Blarg quirks up, opening the gates for the other two to speak up as well.

“Wait a minute, you’re married?!“

Soup follows suit, “You have a kid together?!”

And then McNasty, “Wait a minute, YOU’RE NOT A VIRGIN?”

The two cackle, never taking their eyes off one another as they silently agree on who answers what.

Dooo takes the first question, “Yes, we are married. We have been for six years now.”

Y/N takes the second, “We do! We’ve had the little rascal since we were sixteen actually. A little mishap as a result of lack of sex education and a ton of recklessness on our part. But one we do not regret. Yeah we were dumbasses at the time, we still aren’t much older mentally, but we raised a good young man, I’d say. And let me tell you, Y/C/N, is Dooo Junior. Like a mini version of his dad.”

“I’m really sorry for you.“ Blarg says, still very much flabbergasted, “One Dooo is more than enough. Oh and it’s really nice to meet you, Y/N. Always great to have another member to the ‘Mock The Dooo’ club.“

Soup agrees, “Yeah, it’s great to meet you. And congratulations on...well, everything! Your son, the marriage, the whole nine yards. And now your membership in our club.”

The woman giggle, jumping at the feeling of her sides getting tickled again but Dooo prevents her from running away, “Pleasure to be here. Do you guys have cookies or something?“

“Didn’t you say you would be baking them? We’ll bring beer tho!“ Soup offers helpfully, “No, no, on second thought scratch that, cookies and beer doesn’t sound good at all.“

This gets everyone to laugh once again, everyone except McNasty who’s been hella quiet. Dooo immediately notices.

“McNasty, you alive over there? You good, bro?“ He asks, half genuinely concerned and half very fucking smug and amused. Let’s be honest, everyone would be this smug if they just laid a bomb like that on their friends.

“He’s muted on Discord. Hold on, let me unmute him.“ Blarg says and not a moment later they hear....

“CHAT, THEDOOO ISN’T A VIRGIN! Holy shit! I repeat: THEDOO IS NOT A VIRGIN!!!“

[crowdedimagines]

Familiar Love - Harry Styles

harry and y/n have a hard time staying out of each other’s arms, not that there’s a place they’d rather be Famous!Y/n

“Well well well.” Harry grins, opening his door wider to his home for me. 

“Why are you acting all surprised? You invited me here.” I get on my toes to steal a fast peck from him as I walk by. I walk into the living room I have grown very familiar with over the years. Harry’s London home never changes, his one taste of consistency.  

“Of course I did, we’re both in London at the same time.” 

“I know.” I roll my eyes, backing up the stairs to his room. He matches my steps evenly, pacing us like predator and prey. I slide my jacket off my shoulder, ditching it for the floor. His eyes never leave mine. If I didn’t know this house so well, I would be on my ass by now. 

“It’s been a while since this has worked out.” He presses a stolen kiss to my cheek, then another and another, “I’ve missed you.” 

“Missed me or a muse?” I bite down lightly on his earlobe, he backs me into his bedroom finally. 

“Always miss you.” 

“That’s right, you are pretty obsessed with me.” I smirk. 

“M’not obsessed with you.” He defends, finally pulling his face away from my neck. 

“Well your discography would beg to differ.” 

“Shh.” He works on the spot he knows would normally occupy my mind enough that I couldn’t banter. The spot just below my ear where my neck and jaw meet. 

“Temporary Fix, Perfect, Change Your Ticket-”

“Alright alright” Harry rolls his eyes, dimples showing up on his cheeks while he fights a smile.

“-and that’s not even counting your solo career” I tease, letting him back me onto his bed. “Only Angel, She-” 

“You’re such an ass sometimes.” He shakes his head, as if in disbelief, but his smile only grows wider. 

“What?” I scoff feigning shock, “You love my ass.” He presses a kiss to my collarbone. 

“Yes, I do. Now shut up so I can love on you for the first time in eight months.” 

-     -     -  

Harry and I were the worst and best things to ever happen to each other. We met when we were too young. My career had just started, I had a singular album to my name and was lucky to open for any band that was on a tour. Harry was a couple years into One Direction by the time we met. 

It was on a red carpet, thankfully not my first, but my first time being on the carpet for an award show that I actually had a nomination for. This was huge for me. My album had done well, but never expected a recognition like this. 

I met Niall before I met Harry. I had bumped into him walking in and he complimented my music, even claiming one of his mates ‘couldn’t get enough of it’. When he said that I wasn’t expecting him to walk me over to meet the rest of the band. Harry had been the ‘mate’ Niall had been referring to. 

I lost that night, to Ariana Grande, who in my own opinion deserved it more than me. That night didn’t feel like a loss though, because I got Harry out of it. We quickly became friends, texting, calling, facetiming any time we got the opportunity. One Direction was touring on a constant cycle, and I had just finished mine. I was in the process of writing my sophomore album, Harry flew me out and I ended up staying for the rest of the tour. 

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that we started dating, the calls and giddy smiles were enough already to clue in everyone around us. I was able to get a glimpse at the world he lived in with his stardom, and soak in every second he wasn’t on stage. It didn’t take long for fans and the public to catch on. A few too many paparazzi pictures at each concert venue to avoid. 

Both of our managements allowed us to openly date, officially coming out to everyone with PDA and everything. It was amazing. I flew back home to Los Angeles to record my second album and before I could blink I was touring it. 

Things got hard for Harry and I at that point, we could never manage to be in the same city, or get time off to visit the other. My name was quickly becoming a household one, and One Direction had yet to ever even stall in popularity. 

It broke us both completely that after three happy years together, we had to call it quits. Neither of us were ready to give up our lives and it was no longer working to never see each other. We both needed to feel loved, and on opposite ends of the planet it wasn’t enough anymore. It was only a few months after our split that One Direction went on hiatus. 

Harry and I remained close. Some would say too close. It started with just being friendly whenever we saw each other at events or things with mutual events. It took one slip up that sent us back into each other’s arms. It was a New Year's party, we agreed to be with each other, because we didn’t have anyone else to kiss at midnight. 

Once you get a taste for someone you never stopped loving, it gets pretty hard to stop. So that’s how it all began. Harry and I decided to see each other, date, love, fuck, anytime we both happened to be in the same city. It didn’t happen as often as you would think. We both still had home across the world, and varying tour schedules. We both had on and off again partners, that then the deal would be off, but neither of our partners were ever in the picture for very long. For years it went on like this. It was heartbreak all over again though, once we knew that someone had to leave. 

-     -     -

“Well, that was fun! It’s been a while, Styles.” I let out a sigh to try and gain back my breath. We practically just ran a marathon. Maybe two. He does the same, a grin plastered to his face. 

“Too long.” He tilts his head to press a kiss to my bare shoulder. 

“Well I do believe a plane works two ways.” I turn on my side to face him, my head resting in my palm. 

“Mmm, I’ve been stuck in the studio. I’ve been working on new stuff.” 

“Ooh, a new album perhaps?” 

“Yeah, it’s been a whole process trying to get all my thoughts out and sorted.” He clears his throat. 

“So why not go to Jamaica like you did for your first? A new environment that you can just throw yourself into it.” I question. 

“I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like that for me. I did that because it was the first time I was doing music without One Direction. This time it’s a little more on me and how I feel.” 

We catch up for nearly an hour before we both feel gross from our previous activity and decide to take a shower. Together obviously. 

“Mum and Gem are coming over for brunch tomorrow.” He states. 

“Hmm?” I turn away from the shower head to face him again. 

“I think they’re going to be here close to 10:00.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” He places a hand on my hip, trapping me between him and the cool tile on the walls. “Never.” 

“So what do you want?” I ask, tilting my head up to fully look at him. To read every expression that crosses his face as the water pours over both of us. 

“I want you to stay. Have brunch with us.” 

“Are you sure?” I ask, pressing a kiss to his peck. 

“Yeah, if you can.”

“My fitting isn’t until 2:00 so that should give me plenty of time.” I smile, “Are you sure they aren’t going to think it’s weird that I’m there?” 

“They won’t think it’s weird. They’ll both be thrilled to see you. I swear everytime I pick up the phone they’re asking me how you’re doing.” 

“That’s funny considering how often that Gemma texts me.” I smile. 

“So you’ll stay for brunch?” 

“Mhm.” I pull him down to my height for a kiss. 

-     -     - 

“Well if it isn’t the one that got away.” Anne teases as she pulls me in for a tight hug. 

“Fuck-” Harry sighs, letting out air as if he took an actual physical hit. 

“Hi, Anne.” I laugh. 

“You just get more and more beautiful every-time I see you.” She holds my face in her hands and she studies me closely. Over the years Anne and I have only grown to be more close, even though I am no longer dating her son she still treats me as family which I can’t help but love her for. 

“Let me give her a hug!” Gemma pushes her way in and pulls me in tight against her chest. 

“Gem!” I grin. 

Harry and Anne walk into the kitchen together with Gemma and I following, arm in arm. I remember this from years ago. The Styles family would like to make brunches together every couple of weeks when they could. 

Obviously if Harry was touring or over in the States they couldn’t, but when they could they make the most of it. Everything is made from scratch, together. Nothing is decided until everyone gets there that morning. 

“How do we feel about waffles?” Gemma asks. 

“And eggs.” Harry adds. 

“And bacon.” Anne adds. 

Everyone turns to me waiting for my request. 

“And fresh fruit.” I smile. 

We all get to work and quickly become a well oiled machine. Them it’s not too surprising due to them doing this over the years, but I have to say I am able to jump in with ease. 

I cut up various fruits arranging them as beautifully as I can. A vibrant display of colors on the platter. 

“Excuse me, love.” He presses a kiss to my temple, a steadying hand at my waist as he reaches for a knife from the island. 

I prepare everyone’s drinks around the table as well considering my task went the quickest. Shortly, everyone joins me and we dig in. Everything tastes immaculate. 

We dive into conversation, the table never getting quiet for a second. Something I love so much about this family. There’s always something to be said.

“Well, I actually should be going it’s one o clock now, and I still need to drive to the other side of town.” I pick up my plate from the table. We’ve all been done eating for a while now, but the conversation kept us at the table. 

“Where are you off to?” Anne asks. 

“She’s got a fitting with Gucci.” Harry grins. 

“Wipe that smug little grin off your face.” I smack his shoulder lightly. 

“Gucci?” Gemma grins even wider than Harry did. 

“I am going to be the new face to the brand.” I smile, feeling pink raise up on my cheeks.

“For the whole company?” Gemma cheers. 

I simply nod as I grab a few other plates off of the table as I go. 

“Can I come with you?” Gemma asks, the two Styles siblings following my into the kitchen. 

“Why didn’t you act like this when I modeled for Gucci?” Harry asks, his jealous side coming out.

“Harry, you got a cologne, but she’s getting the whole company!” She huffs, “Do you know what cool clothes she’s going to be trying one?”

“I’m not getting the company!” I roll my eyes, putting the dishes in the wash. 

“You didn’t answer the question.” Gemma smirks. 

“Yes, Gem.” I laugh, “As long as you can be out the door in five minutes.” 

Gemma leaves the kitchen and goes back to tell Anne, leaving Harry and I alone. 

“You’re coming back here after, right?” He asks, trapping me against the counter. 

“Yeah, of course. I’ll actually be in London for almost the entire campaign. You’re going to be sick of me soon.” I smirk. 

“Never.” 

-    -    -

“I am OBSESSED with that yellow jacket you had on!” Gemma sighs dreamily as we enter Harry’s flat several hours later. “It’s to die for!”

“Well, I can see if I can get it for you after the shoot.”

We make our way to the living room where Harry is settled in on the couch with a book. 

“An angel.” She turns to her brother, “Did you know this one is an angel?” 

“You give me too much credit.” I laugh. 

“Thanks for the reminder, Gem.” Harry chuckles. 

“Okay, now I will get out of your hair. I’ve already stolen all afternoon with you. Hopefully see you soon!” She pulls me in for a hug, “Love you.” I let Harry walk her to the door to say their goodbyes. 

Harry comes back after a few minutes and pulls me down in a hug on the couch. He lets out a deep sigh into my neck, pulling my head in even closer. 

“You okay, babe?” I ask, taking note of his obvious mood. 

“Mmm, I was just thinking while you were out.”

“And what were you thinking?” I pull back so I can get a good look at his face. It’s always been an easy way to see how he’s feeling. 

“I was just thinking that we’re both in such a better place than we were all those years ago. I don’t tour every year anymore, and I’m signed with good management that actually lets me make my own decisions.”

“What are you saying?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck and studying his face closely. 

“I’m saying that you only tour ever other year, at max. I do the same now. Why can’t we make this work for real again? We’re both more established now and have the right to chose when and where we do things. I know, we make time for each other when we’re in the same city, but there’s nothing saying we can’t be in the same city. I could live in Los Angeles full time. I could live with you. Or we could both go to New York. I don’t care, as long as we can be together.” 

“Harry, you’re sure about this? We haven’t truly been together in a long time. I love spending my time with you, truly, but I don’t want you to uproot your life just for me.” I clarify. He’s saying what I’ve wanted to hear for years, but I just want to make sure we’ve thought things through before I give either of us false hope. 

“It wouldn’t just be for you, it would be for us. I love you so much, I feel like I’m wasting time. It seems like a waste to know exactly who your soulmate is, and not do everything in your power to make it work.” 

“I love you, too.” I press a fast and passionate kiss to his lips, “Although, I do have one thing that I think we should change.”

“Anything.” He answers, his eyes all gooey and lovey making me break out in a grin. I couldn’t keep a straight face over how I’m feeling if it tried. 

“Let me move here.”

“What?” He asks shocked.

“You love London and being close to your family more than anything, I could never ask you to change that.” 

“But-”

“And I love being close to them too. If today proves anything, you are my family.”

“Let me make the move” I grin. 

“Happily.” Harry’s dimples are on full display. 

“Hey, isn’t that another song you wrote about me?” I tease.

“Oh, shut up.” He rolls his eyes, pushing me back against the couch. 

plz give me some feedback! i thought this was so cute 

[jointimeandspace]

Headcannon: What if Alcina and her darling had a baby? Warning: Fluff, fluff, fluff! Mentions of Postpartum.

I Love Your Body, Even If You Don't (SFW)

While growing up you had always wanted children. Despite them being messy, you absolutely adored them and would do anything to see them smile and giggling. You were the oldest out of four children-living conditions weren't easy, but you and your family were happy. Being the oldest sibling sometimes feels like being a second, and/or third parent...just ask Bela; you on the other hand were happy to help your mother and father and were thrilled when they announced your siblings over the years. The love you had for your family only increased, which caused you to want to start one of your own.

After yours and Alcina's union, you discussed it with her. At first Alcina was apprehensive (considering certain things that have happened), but she felt a change was needed to the castle. She wanted to know what it would be like having a baby around since her three oldest ones didn't have much of a childhood, nor did she as a matter of fact. After a few months of planning and discussions with the girls, the decision was final: they would arrange a plan with Mother Miranda.

It took over another year to test out all the necessary medicines and procedures, and there were many failed results. It seemed all hope was lost and you nearly gave up. After about the 100th procedure, a "positive" finally showed itself. You and Alcina were ecstatic and couldn't wait to make the announcement.

"Please do not celebrate so soon," Miranda said. "We still have to monitor you for at least another month so that we may be absolutely sure."

"Of course, Mother, we understand. However, I have a good feeling about this one," Alcina said.

One month turned into three, three turned into five, and your belly was practically about to burst at the end of the eighth month mark. You were overjoyed and a little nervous, but you remembered the love that your parents showered on you and your siblings and it helped eased your mind immensely-only a few weeks left--or a few minutes; the baby was early and ready to go. You were not prepared at all!

Time Skip- Four months later

"Aw, Mama! Annette is so big already. She's probably going to be as tall as mother," Daniela cooed at her baby sister.

"Dear heavens, I hope not! I refuse to be the shortest in the family," you rolled your eyes as you faked annoyance.

Daniela stroked the baby's face, lost in her pretty eyes. "Mama, I really don't think you have a choice. She's already wearing nine month sizes at 4 months, but it will be cute to be able to pick you up," Daniela grinned. "You could be our own little baby."

You laughed. "No, ma'am! As long as I'm the parent, the only babies will be you and your sisters. Now you go and have fun on the hunt. Bela and Cass have been expecting you for some time, I'm sure."

You kissed Daniela on the forehead as you bid her goodnight. She smiled and blew a kiss to the baby, leaving you and baby Annette alone. After feeding her and putting her into bed, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and any small glimmer of joy you had had gone out the window. You were always a curvy woman, but after giving birth you gained a bit more weight than you intended. Post-partum hit you like a brick that first week and it was hell. Constant crying, anxiety and depression, thoughts of self harm, maybe two hours of sleep a night, you really went through it all. The birth wasn't traumatic in any sense, but no one prepared you for the emotions and weight fluctuations that followed soon after- on top of that, Alcina unfortunately had meetings out the roof and was hardly home to help. Luckily the girls stepped in this past week for a day or two to help you catch up, but it wasn't enough.

"How are you feeling, draga?"

Alcina came up behind you and gave you a soft kiss on the lips. She looked concerned and wanted to comfort you.

" I'm conflicted, Alci. On one hand I'm so happy to have Annette with us, on the other..." you sighed. "Her birth wasn't traumatic, it was quite peaceful, so why do I feel so helpless, so worn out?"

Alcina kissed you again and led you to bed, wrapping you in her arms.

"I've gained so much weight, Alci. I feel ill and I can't stand to look at myself. When you tried to be romantic with me after Miranda gave us the ok, I thought I was ready, but I couldn't...I just felt...unattractive. I'm so sorry! I was tired and still feel that way. I know it feels like I was rejecting you and it probably made you angry..maybe that's why all those meetings."

"My love, birth is a wonderful and stressful process. I will admit, that it was rather selfish of me to assume that you would be ready to resume the sexual side of our relationship, but I received a reality check: I've never gone through a birthing process. I don't know what it's like to push pounds of a human out of my body, or go through feeling undesirable because my body isn't the same as it used to be. However, please know this: I'm very happy to have had a baby with you. I'd go through it all over again. And I could never be upset with you, especially if you aren't feeling well. As for the meetings, they unfortunately always show up at the worst possible time."

She tilted your chin up to make you look at her.

"You are so strong, so brave to have done this. You are a wonderful lover and a wonderful mother to our girls. That in my eyes makes you very attractive. And although you may not love your body as it is now, I do. It birthed our baby girl and carried her for months. You took your time making her so perfect for us, even though she decided that time was taking too long."

You both laughed. Annette was a stubborn one, but she reminded you of Alcina. She was absolutely perfect!

"Your body is beautiful to me, draga. Those beautiful curves, the roundness of your tummy, those warm, delicious thighs-your breasts are swollen and full with milk that I know you use to satiate our child's hunger. It's beautiful to see you bond with her that way. She adores you as I do. I know you want to get your body back in shape, but for now it must rest. If you decide to wait 3 weeks, 3 months, or 3 years, I will love you all the same. Mental health is just as equally important as body health and I want you to remember that. There is no need to stress your pretty self into a frenzy."

She gave you another kiss to your forehead. For the first time in two months, you actually felt happy. You were grateful to have your family, and you intended to shower them with affection as your parents had done to yours.

"Alci?"

"Yes, pet?"

"I'm so glad you still think I'm hot."

Alcina snorted with laughter, "Yes, yes I do."

"Good!" You kissed her lips and her hands. After settling under the covers and turning out the lights, your turned to her.

"Alcina? You are so warm and such a comfort. This is going to be a long journey for me since motherhood is relatively new, but with you and our girls by my side, I can achieve anything. I'm so ready for the long road ahead, no matter what happens!"

Alcina smiled. "Thank you, iubirea mea! Good night, and may sweet dreams find their way to you."

One final kiss, and the two of you drifted off happily and sleepily under the moonlight, dreaming of your upcoming adventures.

[kay-emm-gee]

always, only, you

Pairing: Theodore Laurence/Amy March Rating: Mature || wc: ~1.5k a/n: Always loved the two of them, and I absolutely adored the 2019 adaptation, and I felt inspired to write jealous!laurie, so here we are.

* * *

For what felt like the tenth time tonight, Laurie was staring at her from across the room, not saying a word. Amy did not look away from her vanity mirror, ignoring the feel of his eyes on her. Their party had gone well as any of their previous endeavors, and she simply wished for the happy sort of exhaustion that normally came after a successful night as hostess to sink into her bones. But instead, after the way her husband had behaved, she only wished for sleep. He had barely spoken to her during their customary waltz or at the dinner table. No kind words for her, no usual shower of compliments--only silent, sidelong looks, just as he was doing even now.

Stubbornly ignoring him, she reached up and continued pulling pins from her hair. Curl after curl fell, and as the last one tumbled down, she heard Laurie’s breath catch. A small thrill of satisfaction tripped up her spine to have finally shaken some semblance of reaction from him. Too soon, however, it died under the weight of her lingering annoyance.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” She finally asked breezily. “Or do you plan to sleep standing up?”

“I will, at the very least, take my cravat off. Still deciding where to sleep. The wall here is quite comfortable, I’ve never noticed before.”

Ignoring his dry quip, she began brushing her hair. “I thought it went well tonight. Not as much of a success as our Christmas party, but still a grand time.”

“Fred Vaughn certainly had an excellent evening.”

She paused mid-stroke, turning to face her husband. When their eyes met, his mouth twisted into a sharp mockery of a smile.

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I suppose any man would have had just an excellent of an evening, being so devotedly attended to by my wife.”

He said the last word softly but with such force that it seemed to shatter as it dropped into the silence between them. Slowly, Amy set down her hairbrush. Then she rose from her chair, staring at him in disbelief.

“You...you’ve behaved this way all night, because you are jealous?”

Laurie scoffed, pushing off the wall. He turned from her and shrugged off his evening jacket, then reached up and removed his cravat with short, jerky movements. Incredulous, Amy stood and approached him, her chemise swishing against the floor.

“Laurie, I paid him no more attention than I would any other friend of ours—”

“But no other friend of ours has proposed marriage to you, hmm? No others have been in love with you, have they?”

“It has been more than five years since he and I...you are being ridiculous. Laurie—”

He spun around. “Am I?”

The tinge of angry desperation in his words brought Amy up short. She swallowed down the words of her sharp retort and simply looked at her husband. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his hair was mussed. No doubt he had been running his hands through it before he had come up to bed. Instinctively, she moved towards him, resting her palms on his shoulders. She could feel the tension in them, and so she slid her hands up until they cupped his jaw. Forcing his gaze down to meet hers, she felt her breath catch again as she glimpsed something all too familiar in his eyes.

Worry that something was slipping away. Fear that something precious and so desperately wanted would be wrenched from his grasp.

This worry, this fear—she had felt it in the first years of their marriage. Despite the rings, and despite her sister’s blessing, Amy had struggled to leave her girlhood insecurities behind. In those early years, jealousy had been her constant foe. She knew Laurie and Jo were connected by threads of closeness that could not be severed. It was as incontrovertible a fact as the shape of her nose or that her sister had died too young. She had known this and said her vows anyway. She had known this and still honestly believed Laurie when he had promised to love and cherish her until death did part them. Never once had she truly thought he considered betraying his vows, and never once had she believed her sister ever wanted him to. Even so, in the infancy of their marriage she had fought this battle that she now saw raging in her husband’s eyes.

She stroked a thumb over his cheek. He closed his eyes, and let out a tired sigh.

“He made you laugh.”

Amy bit her lip to keep from smiling. “Old Mr. Rochester also makes me laugh, but I don’t see you worrying about me spending time with him.”

“I tried to make you laugh all week, and you just snapped at me every time.”

“Well, because, for example, you almost destroyed our flower arrangements--our very expensive flower arrangements--for the party in the process of trying to make me laugh. Besides, you know how I get before these events. I’m insufferable.”

She watched as his lips flexed in stifled amusement. The heavy weight on her chest lifted at the sight.

“Theodore Laurence,” she whispered. “I love you. Only you. Always have, always will.”

His forehead knocked gently into hers. “You do?”

“I do.”

“How much?” His voice was tender, rasping.

“More than those flower arrangements.” She paused for a beat. “But only just barely. Certainly not more than my blue muslin, however.”

He chuckled, the corner of his mouth kicking up. She pressed a kiss there, soft and lingering.

“Theo?”

His eyes finally opened and met hers, and the heat Amy saw reflected there made her stomach clench. He always loved it when she called him that—particularly because no one else did. It was for them. Angling his head, he let his lips drift just over hers, a breath away from touching. Anticipation shivered down her spine.

“Yes, dear?” He answered as he slid hands around her waist.

Her own hands slid down his neck, over his shoulders and down his back as she perched up on her toes to whisper in his ear, “I want my husband to take me to bed.”

He took in a sharp breath, and then his mouth was on hers, hot and claiming. His fingers dug into her sides, and she gripped his shoulders for balance. They stumbled backwards, but neither of them were paying proper attention, so Laurie ended up backing her into the wall beside her vanity instead of the bed. With each stroke of his tongue against hers, the tension inside her wound tighter, and she let out a small moan as he pressed his hips into hers. With an answering hum of pleasure, he broke the kiss and spun her around so quickly that she had to grip the wall to steady herself. His fingers unlaced her underclothes with little trouble, and she shimmied out of them hurriedly. When she faced him again, he had already made quick work of his shirt. Her hands went to his pants, fumbling with the fastenings.

“Faster, wife,” he muttered as he tried, and failed, to help. She huffed in response, unable to hide her grin any more than Laurie was able to hide his own. As she felt the fastenings finally give, she sighed in triumph. That sigh quickly turned into a moan, however, when she felt Laurie’s fingers slide over the heat between her legs. He stroked her slowly, firmly, just the way she liked. Vaguely she heard him kick off his pants, but she was too lost in the pleasure he was giving her to know for certain.

By the time Laurie positioned himself at her core, she was aching for him, and when he entered her, she let out a throaty cry of relief. He moved in and out of her in short, rough thrusts, her leg hitched over one of his arms, the other curled around her lower back for support. The friction between them wound her tighter and tighter until, with one last long slide, it peaked. He groaned and found his pleasure just as she keened and found hers. Together, they rode out the crashing wave until it was just small ripples.

As Laurie cleaned them both up, Amy focused on catching her breath. It had been a claiming, no doubt, but on both sides. She was his, and he was hers. The heat inside her had smoldered down to coals, and now suffused her with a low, satisfied burn. He stood and leaned into her once more, and she looked up at him lazily.

“Now will you take me to bed, husband?”

With a smug grin, he leaned down and kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Certainly, my dear.”

Then he grasped her hand and tugged, and she followed him gladly--always had, always would.

[spideymarvelws]

 had so much fun writing the first scene dude... i feel like as a fanfic writer its a sin i haven’t written anything like it yet lmfaoo (to be fair i probably have but I just dont rem💀) anyways i hope you enjoy!

REPOST BECAUSE OF TAGS!!!

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglist / Prompt List

Prompt : 9. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Warnings : just some cute floof, some cursing here and there

Word Count : 2.2k

Hesitation

Technoblade x GN!Reader

It was always peaceful in the tundra right before the sun set. Not only did the orange and red colours that reflected off the shiny snow send a wave of tranquility through the lands. It was a specific time where all the animals would go back into their homes before the mobs spawned at night fall, leaving the lands in complete silence.

Phil loved working at this time, getting small tasks done around the house that he wasn’t able to do throughout the day. Whether it was washing the dishes or dusting out the book shelves. Maybe even lounged around near the fireplace, planning out what he had to do the next day. It was always quiet, void of distractions to keep him from doing them.

But of course, with peace always came chaos.

“YOU CHEATED!”

“NO I DIDN’T!”

“YES YOU DID!”

The door cracked open, slamming against the wall behind it making the blonde jump from the sudden noise. He was ready to pick up his sword by his side until he recognised the voices of his house mates, shouting like little children.

Phil sighed, continuing to wash the dishes in front of him. While the bickering tended to amuse him at times, right then he just wanted to stay in the silence. He was quick to grab a pear of earplugs from his chest, pushing them snugly into his ear, blocking out the noise you both brought into the house while humming a small tune.

“There’s no way that your horse is faster that Carl! That’s just not possible!” Techno shook his head, his entire body still except for his left foot tapping consistently on the floor, “It’s just not possible.”

“Okay-” you pointed your finger in his face, “First off, her name is Raven and secondly, you just can’t admit that she’s better than Carl.” you crossed your arms on your chest, looking up at the piglin with teasing eyes.

Tech threw his head back with a groan, turning around gruffly and taking off his cape along with the skull mask covering his face.

“I won’t admit it because it isn't true!” he turned back to face you, mimicking your stance and tilting his head slightly to the side.

You raised your eyebrows at his response, nodding slowly, “Alright, alright,” you slowly took of your cloak, bunching it up and throwing it at him, his reflexes catching it before the fabric hit his chest, “Maybe it’s just the ridder and not the horse.”

Techno gasped, “You take that back.” he threw your cloak to the side.

You hummed, looking up and faking a thinking face, “Nah... I don’t think I will, I said what I said.” you stepped closer to the hybrid, sizing up his figure, “And what are you going to do about it?”

Techno squinted his eyes, a small smirk making its way to his face before he grabbed you by the waist, throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from the entrance into the living room.

“Hey!” You pounded at his back, wiggling in his tight grip, “Put me down you loaf!”

He laughed at your words but obliged, throwing you on the couch near the fireplace. Before you could sit up, he crawled over your form, knee besides one side of your waist with his other foot planted on the floor, keeping him steady hovering over you.

“Techno-” you chuckled nervously, trying your best not to stray away from his intense gaze, fighting the heat starting to rise to your face. Your hands pushed at his chest, weakening when he brought his face closer to yours, making you feel smaller than you already were.

He didn’t say anything, instead his fingers dug into your stomach, wiggling them across the fabric of your shirt. Your laugher filled the air, high pitched and bouncing off the walls of the cottage. You tried your best to control them, not wanting to give in to the blood god’s actions so quickly. But your hands on your stomach did nothing to stop his.

“Oh. My. God! Techno! Stop you fucking- oh god!”

“Take it back Y/n!” he laughed along with you, continuing his assault on your stomach, “Take it back or I swear to god you’re going to loose a canon life from being too ticklish.”

“NEVER!” you shouted between laugher, screaming when his hands began to move faster, knocking the breath out of your lungs. In the heat of the moment, he took your wrists into his fist, pinning them above your head, keeping your hands from interfering with his plans.

“Say. It.” even with one hand we was doing enough to keep you squirming underneath him, desperate for an escape.

“Okay! Okay! You- You’re a good rider Techno! You’re a good rider!” you finally admitted, your body falling limp against the cushions when he finally raised his fingers from your stomach.

Techno laughed at your state, leaning back with a cocky smirk on his face, “Glad to know we could come to an agreement,”

“I hate you,” you mumbled, your head rolling to the side on your shoulder as you caught your breath. You closed eyes in relief that the past few minutes were over, nearly falling asleep with the amount of energy you spent laughing.

Techno chuckled, taking your chin into his fingers, turning your head to look back at him, “Is that so?”

You nodded, fluttering your eyes open to look up at the pink haired man. Your breath hitched when you noticed how close his face was to yours. His entire presence felt suddenly close, his chest puffed out with long breaths, his legs practically tangled with yours, his face hovering over you, radiating heat you didn’t notice while he was tickling you. You watched as his face lit up red, his piglin ears straightening out of the side of his head, probably taking in the proximity as well.

Techno wasn’t one to get flustered often, but when he did it was always with the people he cared about. He trusted them enough to let that blood god persona he put on fade away leaving behind his shy, nerdy side you always adored. The side of techno who would read by the fireplace with Steve sat snuggly in his lap, the Techno who would spend hours trying to fix his glasses that broke constantly in his strong grip only having to craft a new one. The Techno who would grumble about compliments from you and Phil but the subtle spread of pink across his face told everyone otherwise. The Techno you grew to love the more and more he let you it.

He began to get a lot more playful with you as you friendship grew. When you moved in with him out in the snow it only increased drastically. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the both of you to end up in this position or something similar to it (like the time he pinned you down during training), but he would always stop before things got too intimate and while it hurt, you’ve grown to accept it. You were glad to be his friend, his companion. You would take his friendship over not knowing him at all any time of the day.

You waited for him to pull back. To stand up and dust off his clothes, offering you his hand to pull you up with him and continue that night like normal. But he stayed, his dark, dull eyes staying down at you with a shine you’ve never seen up close before.

Techno didn’t know what to do either. He didn’t know what was prompted him to stay in this position, the sudden confidence that pushed him to keep his hand on your face, his lips so close to yours.  Maybe it was the voices in his head, annoyed with the constant stares and thoughts of adoration when you rode Raven around in the snow, your cape flowing beautifully behind you, face showing nothing but pure joy. They were relentless, calling him out on every emotion he was feeling because of you.

He wanted to move for your sake, he was the one on top of you in the first place, pinning you down. You were probably being polite not shoving him off of you, even if you’ve never done it before, he just always pulled away before you could. But he couldn’t, his muscles stiff and unable to move.

A small part of his brain told him you wanted this too, but he ignored it for his own sanity.

“Techno-” you whispered but before you could continue, the hybrid immediately took the single word as a protest, finally letting go of your hands but keeping his body close.

“Shit I’m sorry that- that was probably a bit much.”

You giggled softly, “No- uh, it was fine tech, no worries,”

He looked down at your bright smile glowing in his face.

“You’re really beautiful Y/n,” he whispered, letting the rough pads of his fingers trail down the side of your face, blushing when you nudged them with your cheek, accepting the comfort.

“You think so?” you whispered back, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“I-” he started, his breath hot against the tip of your nose as he glanced down to your lips, quickly looking back into your eyes. Why weren’t you moving? Why weren’t you cringing, laughing at the thought of ever kissing him?

“You- Do you want this.” you whispered, letting his thumb pull down at your bottom lip, watching as the plush skin softly bounced back.

He nodded, shivering when you tangled your fingers into his pick curls, pulling his face down and nudging your nose against his. He closed his eyes, a small, cute snort coming from the back of his throat at the affection.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“FUCK!”

You jumped at the sudden curse, Techno falling off of you and on to the floor besides the couch. Before you could process what just happened, the curse sounded again followed by a crash, both of your senses on high alert when you realised it was Phil’s voice coming from the kitchen. You rushed to grab your weapons from nearby, quickly pulling yourself together on the fact that your friend was in trouble.

You both ran as fast as you could, Techno in front of you with his sword drawn while you were behind loading your cross bow with an arrow. He barged into the kitchen, holding his blade in the air, ready to attack but all he was met with was a pair of wings slapping him in the face.

You dove under the large feathers, bumping the winged man to alert him of your presence.

“Oh... hey guys!” He smiled, taking out something from his ears and resting them on the kitchen counter. He sent a pointed look to the weapons in your hands, crossing his arms over his chest in confusion, “Why the weapons?”

“Are you alright?” Techno said, rubbing his nose from the hit.

“We heard you scream, thought you were in trouble.”

Phil chuckled nervously, “Sorry, my bad,” he turned around to face the both of you, “I just dropped a plate.”

You and Techno let out an audible sigh, dropping your weapons to the floor with a clank. You didn’t know how many times your heart could deal with the sudden bursts of adrenaline. Walking up to Techno, you took his hand away from his face, inspecting the soft red mark across his face from the whip of feathers. No matter how small the attack, you always made sure to check up on him, even when he didn’t need it.

But with your delicate touch came memories of the events that just happened

“Were- were you here the entire time?” Techno said hesitantly, looking up at his father with worried eyes. You took in his words, immediately pulling away from the hybrid, ignoring his small noise of protest.

“Yes, but i put in some ear plugs,” he pointed to them on the counter.

“Oh!” you piped in, “That’s- That’s good.”

“Was there something I missed?” he crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the both of you curiously.

“Nothing!” You both shouted at the same time, chuckling nervously.

“Okay?” Phil dragged out, pointing back to the sink, “Well, I’ll just-”

“Yeah! You- uh, get to that phil,” you began walking backwards, bounced into the edge of the counter. You played off the pain with a quick thumbs up and walking quickly out of the kitchen, mumbling curses under your breath.

“Are they alright mate?” Phil asked his son who seemed to be lost in his own world, staring at the spot you were once in, “Techno?”

“I- what?” He shook his head, “Uh, yeah- they’re,” he let out a small sigh, letting  his hand pass over his face, “Yeah, they’re fine.”

“Are you alright?”

Techno didn’t respond for a while, stuck in his own thought. Phil turned to his son, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Tech?”

“I think-” He let out a shaky breath, “I think I love them.”

...

IM SORRY FOR ENDING IT SO SUDDENLY

it was just getting to long and i didn’t want to loose motivation writing more😭

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