#i appreciate you all endlessly - goodnight x

[fitpacs]

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[prolix-yuy]

Rising Phoenix

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian offers a gift greater than he imagined.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: M, allusions to sexual acts, some heavy petting, flirty banter up the wazoo, minor injury treatment, hand kink, hand worship, plot? Plot. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: Is this an excuse for me to put all of my favorite things about Mando into one story? Yes, yes it is. Including making fun of that tin can man's ridiculous fashion choices.

Takes place after If the Moon Walks Out.

Cross-posted on AO3

I Think of You Series Masterlist

Mando is hiding something from you.

If anyone on the outside was looking in, they’d think the opposite. They might even say he’s being more open than in months. After the bite and subsequent breakdown (which you’re still a little embarrassed about), Mando started showing you how he runs the Crest. Walking you through a takeoff sequence, demonstrating what the other buttons along the cargo hold walls do.

(you didn’t know there was a button to close Mando’s cramped cubby)

(might come in handy when you want a little privacy)

You were appreciative at first, until Mando started disappearing in the evenings with no warning or explanation. One minute he’d be feeding the child, the warm thrum of your cavewoman brain revving up -

(he wiped the child’s mouth with the edge of his cape and you had to go take a breather in the kitchenette)

- the next moment he was gone, up in the cockpit or down in the hold, wherever you’re not. A whiff of solder sometimes wafted by, or the clunk of metal on metal reached your ears. You’re curious, endlessly so, but if there’s one thing you would not betray, it’s the trust Mando has finally given you.

(he’ll come to you when he’s ready)

Instead you prepare food and tidy the hold and read on your holopad until he returns, either to bid you goodnight with the child tucked into his arm, or to put him down before sneaking back to you, large hands on your hips a precursor to his hushed question:

“Can I have you tonight, Mesh’la?”

(more often than not your nights end with him inside you)

But as the days continue, another bounty on the horizon, your treacherous mind begins toying with your insecurities. The next planet wasn’t far but Mando’s taking his time, making short hops instead of fast travel. When you questioned it, the threat of Imps and blaster residue in your nostrils, he said it was to show you how to hop in and out of hyperspace.

(the holopad full of calculations makes your head spin)

(you hold it like a lifeline)

“Mando, I appreciate you taking my feelings to heart, but moving this slow…aren’t we tempting our luck?” you finally asked, legs crossed in the jump seat when Mando pulled out of hyperspace yet again.

“I’m willing to press it,” he replied, “but not much longer. Tomorrow we land.”

“Could have landed three days ago,” you said, goading Mando to turn to you. He cocked the helmet, which still managed to thrill you, and leaned back.

“I thought you enjoyed my company,” he said, the tease making you smile. “You certainly did last night.” Your face turned molten as you played up a salacious gasp.

“That was a low blow, Mandalorian, you won’t get many more nights like that if you use them against me,” you scolded, biting back a bigger smile when Mando stood up to tower over you, cocking his hip.

(what you wouldn’t give to leave a mark on the flesh there)

(make him wear it under the armor)

(your own symbol of devotion)

“That’s an empty threat,” he said coolly, making you roll your eyes before he tucked his knuckle under your chin, swiping his thumb over your lower lip.

(a Keldabe kiss is one thing)

(this kiss is only for you)

“Only a little longer, Mesh’la. I promise it’s worth it.” he said, quieter, and you nodded, wrapping your hand around his wrist. One squeeze before he moved to the cargo hold.

“I was going to show you how to dump the waste reserves today,” he called up the ladder as he descended.

“Oh thank the Maker, the suspense was killing me!”

You chased his huffed laugh.

An arid planet comes into focus, the child perched in your lap as Mando begins descending into the atmosphere.

“We’re a day early, bounty’s not expected to be on world until tomorrow,” Mando says as the Crest leans into entry, hull shaking against the heat as it skims over the bubble-like surface of the atmosphere.

“What should we do until then?” you ask, lifting the child a little higher so he can watch the descent. “Looks like a dry planet, Bean, no frogs for you.” His trill of disappointment makes you wonder, yet again, if he understands you more than the energies you assume he’s reading. The thought is dashed from your mind as you focus on Mando’s technique, riding the curve of the planet until gravity begins to tug you down in your seat. The Crest dives like a much more graceful bird than her silhouette, weaving through clouds and pockets of rougher air as a stretch of open land surges up to meet you. With a gentle lurch (good job landing Mando), you’re back on solid ground and the child is chirping at his father.

“Yeah kid, we can go outside. We’re far out, should be safe,” Mando says, directing the last part of the sentence to you. As you make your way to the ramp Mando calls down.

“Wear something warm.”

Your head cocks at the request.

“It’s a desert, I’ll cook alive.”

“Trust me.”

You exchange a look with the child, who lifts and drops his ears in as close of an approximation to, “Beats me.” You shrug on a long-sleeve shirt (one of Mando’s old ones, you still covet a few) and comfortable boots. Giving the button a slap, you wait for Mando by the cargo ramp as hot air blows into the hold.

“I don’t agree with your opinion on the climate,” you call back, turning when his footsteps near. “I think the armor’s skewed your perception of heat.”

“You’ll need it for this.”

In Mando’s hands is a harness, leather straps reinforced with thick thread along the seams. A hefty buckle centers in the loops, which attach to the baffling item in question.

(a jetpack?)

Mando has his on too, clasped into the backplate of his armor. This secondary one is more beat-up, yellow and green paint flaking off in places. It hangs heavy, the straps gathered in one hand as he lifts it to you.

“It’s old, but it works fine. Used to belong to Cobb Vanth,” Mando says, shifting a little as you watch him with parted lips. Your eyebrows raise briefly at the name of the Mos Pelgo Mandalorian you ventured to meet when (your) Mando was still among the stars. The jetpack, however, and all its potential holds your attention.

When you don’t say anything, Mando continues. “The Rising Phoenix is calibrated to my vambrace, but this one could be programmed to a…” He trails off as you step closer, shifting the child in your arms to reach out and finger the leather strapping. “Is this okay?” he finally asks, low and quiet as you feel the T-visor burn along your cheeks.

“You made this?” you finally say, barely registering Mando taking the child from you so you can inspect the rig. “This is why we were taking so long?” you breathe out, realization warming you.The stitching is tight and neat, the soldering clean. It even looks like he tried to remove some of the flaking paint but gave up. He shrugs briefly.

“Makes sense for you to use it. It’s likely to draw attention. But if there’s trouble, it’s fast,” Mando says, his body language cautious right now. He must have been nervous at the proposition, anticipating your apprehension, but you feel anything but. This hunk of junk repurposed to protect you is a greater gift than he understands. It makes you break out into a dazzling smile.

“This is karking amazing!” you shout, the child joining in as you turn over the rig and inspect it from all angles. Mando’s chuckle sends tingles down your spine, and when you meet the visor again you can imagine a bashful smile gracing his face.

(a face you’ll never see, but dream of all the same)

“How do you…” you start, holding the jetpack to your chest like a child on Life Day.

“A desert planet with nothing to do seemed like a good place to teach you,” Mando says, sauntering down the ramp, the child’s ears bouncing. Your heart hammers into high speed while sweat beads along your hairline.

(you’re going to fly today)

Mando takes an especially long time to walk you through the components of the jetpack, how it works and what each part does. You’re barely containing your excitement, hovering over his quick-moving hands and nodding endlessly.

“What’s this for?” you ask, pointing at a cylinder in the center that looks empty. Mando shakes his head.

“That’s for another day, Mesh’la, today we’re flying,” he deflects, and you don’t push. The possibility of being weightless, suspended in air the way you’d only experienced in dreams, was a much greater distraction.

“Do you have the controller?” Mando asks. You flash the metal gauntlet on your wrist. It’s just as cleanly built, a small series of buttons that do the basics. You’ve ridden speeders with more complicated controls. Though speeders barely leave the ground.

“Ready?” he asks, holding the straps open for you to slip into. You flash him a bright smile before turning around, shouldering the bulky machinery like a school bag. It settles on the center of your back, Mando fussing with the chest clip and adjusting the tension of the straps.

“This needs a real harness, but for now it’ll work.” Mando slides his fingers under the restraints to test their tautness. “It won’t distribute your weight, so no long trips. You’ll bruise up.”

“I can handle a few bruises,” you challenge, a coy smile melting onto your face as Mando slows his pacing. He tips the helmet in, tugging on the central buckle once more.

“Cheeky,” he purrs before stepping away, typing something into his vambrace. You twist and test the harness. It’s a comforting level of snug, the kind that makes you feel made of durasteel. The child, left to his devices during the suit up, pats at your calf.

“Am I looking cool, Bean?” you ask, doing a quick spin for giggles. “I need a cape like your dad to go…with…” You trail off, a wicked little smile replacing your coy one. “Hey Mando,” you call out innocently, drawing his gaze. “Did you always have the Rising Phoenix?”

He tilts his head with some hesitancy.

“No.”

“So when we first met, you didn’t have it.”

“No.”

“And I remember you having quite the impressive cape back then.”

“I’ve always had…”

“And now it’s a little, you know. Worn. A little tattered. Maybe a little…burned.”

Mando stares you down and it takes all of your effort not to lose it.

“Do you…wear the cape when you’re flying, Mando?”

He shifts from one foot to the other.

“It takes a lot of work…”

“Oh my Stars, you do!”

Mando shifts into what you’ve come to call the Exasperated Stance, hands on his hips, shoulders squared, helmet tipped back.

“It’s easier to…”

“Mando, you are going to set yourself on fire, you kriffing idiot. I can see the scorch marks!”

Mando advances on you, and you skip backwards. Your hands fly to the controller on your wrist. It’s easy to psych yourself out thinking about flying, but with Mando stalking your way, your pounding heart could be attributed to that.

“Mesh’la…” he growls, but with little fire behind it.

(unlike the amount of fire he’s definitely set to that useless piece of fabric)

“Mando…” you mimic, hand dancing over the gauntlet like a gunslinger about to draw his weapon.

“Stop it.”

(perfect)

“Catch me and make me,” you taunt, taking off into a real run. Mando’s footsteps falter, then pick up speed behind you.

(now or never)

You press the short series of buttons to ignite the jetpack, your speed masking the initial jolt of thrust when it catches.

“Wait!” Mando shouts behind you. For a moment you do feel bad for the plaintive plea threading his shout, but adrenaline kicks in and if you do this right, you’ll be flying.

(if you do it wrong, well, you’ll just have a bruised ego…along with a few other places)

Three more long strides and the thrust lifts you off the ground, a disbelieving laugh following. Your feet dangle uselessly as you lift off, the wind in your ears drowning out further shouts. Faintly you hear another roar of ignition, Mando likely to yank you back out of the sky, but euphoria is all you can absorb. The drop in your stomach evens out as you slow your climb, easing the throttle until you’re hovering about fifty feet off the ground. You kick your legs, heat kissing the back of your thighs reminding you to be careful. Below, the sable sand and rock stretches like a rolling canvas, the undulations of hills and sharp creases of mountains in the distance shifting perspective as you absorb beauty at a height you’ve never known.

“Are you crazy?” Mando shouts, zipping into view right in front of you, broad beskar body blocking out the horizon you were just admiring. The startle makes your finger slip, and you drop ten feet fast, Mando’s hands chasing you. Regaining control, you zip away from him.

“I’m getting the hang of it!” you laugh back. His posture is rigid as he flies close behind, more disciplined with technique. You’re just happy that you haven’t crashed face-first into the hard packed dirt yet. Below the child watches you weave around, little hands raised when you zoom overhead. Narrowly avoiding Mando when he reaches out, no doubt to slow you down or scold you further, you speed up with the barest recognition that this is probably a bad idea.

“Look at this Bean!” you shout down, wobbling your shoulders back and forth until you discover how much sway banks you left or right. It doesn’t feel real, like you’re flying in a dream, even though the wind whips past your face and the straps pull painfully against your ribs.

(it feels like freedom)

A flash of silver glints in the corner of your eye and Mando is pulling up beside you, one hand clamping down on your bicep.

“Enough. Land,” he shouts, but for the first time in ages you feel light, like every care on your shoulders was left in the dirt. You don’t want to touch down and let it crawl back up yet.

Plus, it’s been too long since you sparred with Mando.

The controls are surprisingly intuitive, though considering he made them for you might that speaks to his intelligence. Or insight. But now he must be cursing his thoughtfulness because you speed up and up, the weight of his armor lagging him behind. His grip loosens and you spin away again, testing how quickly you can change direction. The dance continues, Mando’s hands coming close, his voice lost to the roar of the packs and the wind whipping against your cheeks. You push him back, kicking him in the chest once and feeling a little bad about it.

He finally yanks you down by your ankle, flipping you so the propulsion shoots you towards the ground. Righting yourself more nimbly than expected, he barrels into you and digs his fingers into your waistband.

“Stop. Teasing.” The growl is heavy, but even he can’t hide the winded excitement of the chase under the vocoder. You’re sure if you palmed him now he’d be hard.

(jetpack sex)

(no way, that’s how idiots go about dying)

“Make. Me. Mando,” you pant, hitting a random button on his vambrace. Thankfully it just stutters his jetpack, grip slipping enough for you to wriggle out. You want to see if you can do a loop, entertain the child below, fly along the horizon the way you’d always dreamed of when two desert suns set on your planet.

The jetpack lurches hard against you. The ever-present heat skirting down your thighs lessens. Something smells like chemicals and smoke.

(out of fuel)

(DANK FARRIK)

All the elation building in your chest freezes to terror when gravity pulls you, but before you can shout Mando’s hands jam under the harness, wrenching you to his chest as all your gravity-defying stunts fizzle out. You thud your forehead against his paudron as he lowers you back to solid earth, talking yourself down from the brief heart attack. Once your feet touch down you back away, Mando’s grip easing as you sweep sweat and dust from your forehead.

“Thanks for the rescue,” you mutter, cheeks hot with embarrassment before you turn your attention to the little green child hurrying his way over. “How’d you like the show Bean?” Kneeling down, he practically tumbles into your open arms, clawing his way up to your face to pat at your cheeks. “I’m okay buddy, had the time of my life up there thanks to…” Looking over at Mando you can almost see the frustration wafting off him in waves.

(kriff, you really pissed him off this time)

“Okay, how about we pop you in here and send you back to the Crest while I get a lecture,” you murmur as you tuck the child into the silver pram and send it scooting. The child looks back once, concerned ears perking, but turns back around when you wave him off. Mando’s footsteps approach heavily, scuffing in the dirt. You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face.

“I’m sorry…” you start to say, ready for the harsh reprimand you’re sure is coming.

(how can you explain the wonderful gift he just gave to you?)

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” he says, dangerously low. His shoulders are tight, forehead almost pressed to yours. You can see how intimidating being on the Mandalorian’s bad side could be.

“I was…” you try to say, the emotionless visor following your gaze. The horizon, sparkling with midday sun, is where your gaze finally lands. “I’ve always dreamed of flying. I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

Seconds tick by as you wait for a scold, but it doesn’t come. Instead Mando sighs, and two heavy hands drop on your shoulders.

“You’re lucky I caught you,” he murmurs, squeezing briefly. You bring your eyes back to the smoky T-visor and quirk a wan smile.

“Seems like I’m always falling for you.”

(would that be such a bad thing?)

Mando stills, then cradles your cheek in his hand. The cool kiss of beskar on your forehead raises goosebumps despite the desert heat.

“Mesh’la,” he groans, “don’t tease.”

“Not teasing now, Mando.”

A rumble in his chest burns straight to your sex.

“Yeah? You’ll be good for me?”

(oh kark)

Mando twists you in his arms, back to front. The jetpack puts too much bulk between you, making you have to bend at the waist, but it’s immediately evident this is exactly what Mando wants. He palms your hips, dragging his hand up to stroke your stomach before sliding down to cup you over your pants.

“You want this?” he asks, but he’s already kneading at your mound, the heavy swipe of his fingers through your clothes sparking heat in your cunt.

“Mando…” you choke out, hands coming back to grab at his narrow hips. You’re unbalanced and clumsy against his unyielding stance. “The child.” His little silver pod is ascending the ramp into the Crest. Mando chuckles.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be quick.”

Your cunt clenches, ripples of pleasure as you scratch your nails into the rough weave of his pants. The jetpack tugs against your chest and you realize he’s using it as leverage to pull you back into him.

(jetpack sex jetpack sex jetpack sex)

“Feel what you do to me, Mesh’la. All the kriffing time.”

Your hands scrabble behind you, fumbling between your bodies.

(give it to me)

(all of it)

(all of you)

Mando shifts, jostling your body a fraction to the side. There’s a sudden white hotness against your arm and you cry out, jerking against his hold.

(the exhaust pipe)

The jetpack is still cooling down, hot rings of metal that just touched you at the worst possible time. Mando’s grip disappears immediately, the press of his body against you suddenly gone.

“What happened?” he says, and the vocoder can’t hide his concern. You twist your arms back up by your face, straightening back to standing. There’s a small welt, hot to the touch. You’ve barely inspected it yourself when Mando’s familiar orange-tipped gloves take your hand into his.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, careful not to touch the mark but still holding your arm so gently.

(oh Mando)

(never)

“Just touched the exhaust, nothing a little bacta can’t fix,” you say breezily, but you know the moment’s passed. Mando’s already leading you back to the Crest, and you follow begrudgingly.

(trust you to ruin some of the hottest foreplay with an injury)

The child burbles at your entrance, hovering the pram over to where you sit at the table, injury outstretched on the durasteel. You turn your arm to touch the burn against it, offering a tiny sliver of relief from the dull throb. Mando bustles into a cargo cubby, pulling out the medkit you’d put to good use barely a week before. A packet of bacta gel, and the Mandalorian, settle across from you.

“I promise, I’m okay,” you say with a lopsided smile, reaching for the bacta. He snags it up first, motioning for you to reveal the burn. It’s halfway up your forearm, the flesh rising.

“I know,” Mando says before tugging at the tips of his gloves.

(Maker)

The last time you got to watch this ritual closely (not clouded by lust or in a frantic scramble) was when he stood at the foot of the bed in Joeken’s inn. You’d admired his wide palms, his thick fingers, how capable they looked. There’s much there you remember, but age and circumstance changes all. There are more scars along his knuckles, callused and rough. He almost glows in the artificial lighting, a deep golden tone forever under his skin. Being able to savor it screams of transgression.

“Let me,” he says, breaking you from your reverie. You extend your arm into his reach, the scratch of his well-worked fingertips tracing the injury. He squeezes a small amount of bacta onto the burn and works it in with two fingers, the touch featherlight and gliding. Mesmerized by the methodical strokes, your other hand drifts to the back of his hand, your fingertips sliding over the smoother skin. His fingers falter as you both watch the slow advance of skin on skin.

“Mesh’la,” Mando breathes. You start to retract, afraid of an overstep. “No, it’s…” he stutters out, “It’s okay. Just not…used to it.”

(touch him until he forgets what it was like to go without)

Bacta application forgotten (or completed), Mando cups your injured hand, tracing the lines in your palm that supposedly speak of your future. You let your own wandering touch linger along the mountains of his knuckles, slip along the veins and raised injuries, before resting on his wrist. His chest hitches like he’s in pain, or something much sweeter.

“Does it still hurt?” he asks, now holding your hand between both of his.

“No, much better,” you answer, leaning when a flash of black catches your eye. Your mouth and one eyebrow quirks up. “Who gave you that?”

Mando turns his wrist, a black tattoo - two rings around a dot - appearing on the webbing between his thumb and pointer finger.

(target)

“Paz. A brother in arms.”

You stroke over it, no discernible texture.

“Did he give you more?” you ask cheekily. The child hovers closer to inspect his guardian’s ink, tilting his head and softly cooing.

“You’ll have to find those yourself,” he says, the edge of sass in his voice making you giggle. You move to pull away but his hands wrap around yours, warm and gentle for implements of such bloodshed.

“I never want to hurt you,” he says, much quieter. The vocoder almost loses his consonants. “If I ever do…”

“Hush,” you scold, leaning over the table to meet the visor. “It was an accident. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of them.” The stillness in his posture twists your stomach.

(he’d be devastated if he harmed you)

“You could never hurt me,” you say. Mando tilts his head, the sentiment too simplistic. But all of its meanings fill the silence.

(you would never do it purposefully)

(I’ll always forgive you)

(I would rather be hurt than without you)

With molten slowness Mando leans over your arm, raising it between you. You think it’s to inspect the burn, see that the bacta is working, but he just stares at it for a long moment. His hand drifts to the edge of his helmet, aimless and lost. When you touch him again he snaps back, standing up quickly.

“I have to make some preparations for tomorrow,” he squeezes out, taking a half step back. His movements are sluggish, quickening only when he strides away.

“Thank you, Mando,” you call as he mounts the ladder. He gives a nod, tugging his gloves on before climbing the ladder into the cockpit. The child hovers by your side, looking up at his retreating father figure before reaching up to you.

“Been a bit of a day, hasn’t it Bean?” you say, lifting the child out of the pram. The warmth of his touch lingers, the images of his hands holding yours only a blink away.

The baby yawn is all the answer you need.

In the cockpit, Din leans down and braces his hands on the console, trying to slow his pounding heart. He’s been inside you, why was letting you touch his bare hands more intimate? He’d had to cover them up to stop reliving every caress, the way your eyes roamed along the only bit of skin he’d allowed you to observe. His face burns with self-consciousness but also the thrill of your exploration.

But as much as that all excited him, it was that final moment that drove his heart into his throat and made him feel lightheaded. Because he held your hand and looked at the burn - an injury he caused, however inadvertently - and let a fleeting thought grow wild in his mind.

Kiss it better.

Something his mother would do with a scraped knee or a bruised finger.

Kiss it better.

Those three words grew from a whisper to an ocean roar as he considered how your skin would feel under his lips. If he could lift the helmet just enough to touch but not for you to see.

That wouldn’t risk his Creed.

Yes it would.

He crushed the desire down, left you behind a little more confused than before, but safe and cared for in his ship. Safe with the child and with him.

You could never hurt me.

You’re right. Din would never, could never bring harm to you. But some days, like today, he can see how much harm you could do to him. With your bright smile and open heart and patience, you could destroy the Mandalorian.

But from those ashes, Din Djarin could grow.

A flashing light grounds him as he flips on a holo-message. A halo of messy curls and a sassy expression glows to life, the dull scrapes and whines of a working hanger in the background. Din cocks his head as the message plays.

“Mando! Long time no see! Not that I miss that hunk of junk ship of yours. Well, I do miss the credits it brings in. Anyway, I’ve got a lead for you. You wanted those, right? About the Mandalorians? Got a client who may know where some are. The info’s not for free, I’ll fill you in when you get here. Bit of a time crunch, though, so you better shift that rust bucket into hyperspeed. You’re her last hope.”

Peli Motto’s image fizzles into static, and a blanket of duty settles back on Mando’s shoulders. A mission long paused. An outcome he comes to dread more with each passing day. A galaxy that spun on without the three of you for a long while.

But there is much work still to be done.

END

Episode 11 of the I Think of You Series

[tkwrites]

Sorry for the length of this but I wanted to go through and find particular parts of your series that I really liked and show how I really appreciate the little things you add. Turns out that list was way too long after just one part so switched it to some quotes that I found funny/made me laugh xxx

“So you're what, 20?” “I hope I look older than that!”

“Were you worried I was going to ask for pictures of your feet or something?” 

She snorted. Every time she saw Quinn, he was in a variation of three outfits: jeans and a jacket, athletic wear, or a game day suit.  Okay but had to bring up how accurate this is, have you seen this man in the past like fortnight? He has worn the same suit to every game, I mean iconic for sure but dude come on aha

The interaction with Quinn and Emma when she asks if he's slept with Sarah yet is also so cute and funny to me aha

They ended with a very off key “Yooooou!” and the camera turned back to the front, showing Elias with a teasing, mischievous glint in his eyes, “Happy birthday, Sarah!” he said. “Thanks for making Huggy bearable!” 

“You keep in touch with everyone who was there that night?” he joked, hoping she would see how ridiculous her worry was. 

“Gee, thanks, Hughes,” she said, flatly. “I had no idea ice is slippery.”

“Can you hold me?” he asked. It came out quieter than he thought it would. Okay this one isn't funny but this was from the first one I ever read and remember this being the point when I was like 'aww this is cute af' 🥹 just how he was clearly so in love with this person and not afraid to be seen in whatever state

“If you want me to go back to sleep, straddling my thigh isn’t the way to do it,” he teased. 

She pointed to the bed, “you want to tell me they're not going to know we weren't just having sex?” Just the pure 'bitch please' tone I read this in aha

Have the best day and thankyou endlessly for this series 😘

Can we know what kind of scenarios you have as wips? All good if you'd rather not xx

I do have a question actually, what do you envision Sarah does with the puck Quinn gave here from her first game? Is it on display or tucked away somewhere?

Well goodnight from me and best vibes sent your way always x

Oh my goodness, Alora. 🥹😢😭 Thank you so much. This was such an incredible message to receive during such a hard week.

I don't even know what to say. I feel so very blessed. Every time I get a message like this - scratch that, this is the first message with so much detail I've received - it just kills my imposter syndrome a little bit more. Thank you for that. I really can't even express how much it means to me.

I'm happy to share my wip list. I've put it below the cut in case someone doesn't want to be spoiled. A caveat, though: some of these pieces are farther along than others. Some are 99% finished, but I'm waiting for a little more context before posting them. Some have barely been started, while others have a good amount of work done on them. I write fics on the side of my regular, full-time job and living my life, so sometimes progress is slow going.

I honestly kind of forgot about Quinn giving Sarah that puck.

She definitely has the puck Quinn gave her out on display. It's on her desk, used mostly to hold her place in/as a weight to hold open her text books when she's studying.

Thank you for asking!

Endless love sent your way! 😘

WIP list:

(These are in no particular order)

Quinn meets Sarah's uncle

Sarah gets bombarded by fan girls on social media and bonds with the other WAGs

The Canucks are eliminated from the playoffs - comfort ensues

Quinn and Sarah discuss no longer using condoms and put that into practice

Golf. Of course. We meet sassy Sarah for the first time.

Sarah meets Jack and Luke during the playoffs

Sarah’s finals

Sarah and Quinn discuss the summer situation

Sarah does a photo shoot for Quinns birthday (I can't decide if this one is super dumb or not. If you'd like to beta read it, let me know)

All of the summer shenanigans including but not limited to :

Car sex

A black bikini

The lake house

Quinn meets Sarah's siblings

And an unnamed Nico Hischier x art student Lena 3 part friends-to-lovers series.

[alberivh]

happy birthday, by the way

a headcannon of genshin men celebrating your most sincere birthday celebration at your last resting place

ilness, angst, slight fluff, comfort/hurt, implied death

kaeya, diluc x gn!reader

a/n ; @mikachuchu AS WE TOLD ONE ANOTHER ABOUT THIS IDEA, I DECIDED TO MAKE IT FOR MY OWN BIRTHDAY AND SO YEAH, ANYWAYS THANK YOU MIKA FOR HALF OD THE IDEAS AND BRAINROTS MUAH ILY

Kaeya

woohoo, it’s finally your birthday! It’s been a while since he prepared so much for his lover. Cakes, gifts, birthday card and many more! He was so excited!

he wasn’t so sure how many hours have passed when you weren’t with him, when you weren’t present in his arm or when you were unable to say i love you for the last time. Tonight was the same, you weren’t here. But your birthday..wouldn’t it still worth celebrating even if you’re not here? He wasn’t sure again.

anxiety crawls up to his tongue as soon as he realized how many pressure he had given to himself. Birthdays huh..a corpse birthday, would that bothered me..or would that make me an asshole for not letting go?…he thought about it once more. Kaeya doesn’t seem so bothered by the fact you weren’t here any longer, but the thing that scrolled through his lies and his fright the most is the fact he couldn’t see you smiling once more.

How last year, he prepared your candles, cakes, and those gifts which were made just for you. How you would smiled so brightly while thanking him and kissed his lips with an upmost adoration. How you shift yourself in your death bed, waiting for kaeya to feed you the cake he bakes just for you. It’s delicious, kaeya! You’re talented at this! Those words flustered his heart out. He was blushing, the colors are out of control; it makes the chuckle from your mouth sounds so bright at the moment he saw you again. you are the only one who could make him feel this way. he was so convinced to love you till the end..But Can he return to the time where it’s just you and him loving one another?

The taste of your warm was an addiction. A pure sincere affection. How you make his name special than ever, how you make the matching ring he bought seems perfect to fit into a sinner fingertips. He was so in love to ever let go, he wasn’t ready to found another person to bound. so when you finally closed your eyes atlas, those whimpers of ‘wake up’ would never make his dream came true. The ring you worn wouldn’t gloss in perfection. the owner have died, who are they to shine?

He likes that feeling where you were at least happy to bound together with him or with life itselves. You were enjoying it and you were in love with the idea of living for your own will; to made kaeya feel enough..and appreciated. It was selfish for kaeya to never let go of those will, although if some-day he would forget those statements. He’ll still be clinging into your tombstone again, to an only remembrance he had of you. He is not ready, he will never be. How could he been in love someone who wasn’t you..?

so here he is, under the moonlight, he ought your presence. The cecilias he bought yesterday were starting to dry out, the wind was so strong, it made the leaves which flew through your way disappear to thin dust. He prepared the candles and the cakes he bake just for you. A strawberry cake you ate when he still could linger through your warmth. To remember an innocent soul, Beloved partner of life, (Name) Alberich. The candles he light for you started to surround your name with peace, the small claps he make while humming the rhythm soothes into eclipse. The tears in his eyes were fond, the anxiety left him now. He was here to celebrate your birthday, your short age and his lost home.

“happy birthday to you…my love”

Diluc

diluc stares endlessly at the picture of you and him in his office. How’d you look so bright while his arm lingers to your waist, how your smile potrayed its emotion through your face. across his mind, he wasn’t thinking of nothing but you, beautiful he thought. The star was so beautiful tonight..it’s empathizing...and It’s your birthday, tonight. how can he forgot about your special ocassion? There’s no way isn’t it?

he hasn’t prepared any single shits for your birthday. Cakes? Not even a single crumble. Birthday card? The papers in his inventory, are all for his works. Present? None, there’s no such a thing as gift in his lonely-mansion. he was there thinking of you, the corridor was so quite when you’re not around, it chilled his bones. and the fact he wasn’t so sure if it’s right to celebrate someone’s birthday for his own sake, he felt as if he was holding his own grudge to be told.

he count the stars, every each of the stars that went through his sight. While the clock ticks through the timeline, he was focusing and counting how many pieces of you the star has left. He wanted to celebrate your birthday by remembering you. He doesn’t want to say goodbye, he wants to remembered. you are his star, diluc was once your moon. The brightest moon in disguise of the star; in love with the purity of the starlight.

there are 400 dust of you, beneath the star, he thought he found you again. One of them has the brightest light…one of them has the darkest cries. The wavering feel of numbness turned into a void of longing. He remembered so many thing…when you asked him to count the stars for you, how you asked him to blew the candle for you, how you hold his arm waiting for goodnight kisses to linger onto your flawless lips.

“you’re not going anywhere, would you..?” “t-that’s a..stupid question..” , he hold your palm to his chest. Making sure you could feel the beating of his heart. The melody which could only be heard by you, the warm that always search for you. Your hands were so cold, your eyes were too dull now. You weren’t blind, just dying. Although, he wasn’t ready to accept you were fading. Seeing diluc always hugging your hand as if he was trying to deny it was a harsh view in front of him, makes something inside you break. and truth to be told, you just want him to live up with the reality. I’m dying, please let go.

At the same night, you blew your candle. Your last candle. Thanking him in a hoarse tone, spoiling pecks of lovely kisses all over his face; making the once pale unbearable face look more alive than before. you were so weak now, and atlas the only thing you could do was to appreciate your last birthday, which was all prepared by diluc. The cake was so tasty..the candles are very pretty…even his face look more happier than usual. But..I think, it was almost the time to say goodbye.

he woke up to a certain alarm. it was an unfamiliar one. A hazy one at that. in your arms, he found himself to be in deep confusion..why is it so cold? Why is it so blurry..? And why don’t your instinct move to his movements. And why is it so quiet..? He asked himself. Waking you up was an option, but he never picked it up. Until he lost the option to wait..because why does your body letting diluc go? That have never happen. “…wake up..” , he whisper the cries. “sunshine…c’mon we promised to eat together again..” , he repeat. “…(name)..c’mon, aren’t we supposed to stay together..?”, he gave up.

he seek his palm once more. He remembers how bitter goodbye’s taste. But this time, that time…why is it so merciless? Cold body, warm memories of candles and cakes. The last thing you ought was to celebrate your birthday. The last thing you ought for diluc is for him to be freed from his expectation….so he did. He fractured that plea. Diluc once again found himself to crumbled in piece, 400 pieces of you he found, the candles which blew from the wind by the stars..here he is staring at your picture, kissing a small goodbye to a wander of the dead.

“goodbye..sunshine”

a/n ; the number 4 is a symbol of death in japanese culture. And thats the reason why i put (4)00 pieces of ‘you’ in diluc’s part.

TAGLIST : @mikachuchu , @zierx, @childeluv @urujiako , @chichikoi , @noirkkat , @aphrodicts-imagination , @icecappa , @abyssheart , @yeetmeoffjueyunkarst , @almondto-fu @shxnosuke

[cherrysung]

walks & paws

pairing: jeno x reader

genre: strangers to lovers au / fluff

warnings: none

prompts: none

summary: walks were never your favorite; but maybe after an encounter that changed your life, you can manage to appreciate them a little bit more.

requested by anon.

word count: 1.5k

note: *smashes hands down on table* this is so adorable! thank you anonnie for requesting such a lovely scenario!

cherrysung’s navigation

Destiny was something you strongly believed in. A phenomenon that had no logical explanation, but somehow worked according to one’s actions and decisions. Everyday, you hoped faith had something awesome in store for you, and often wondered what your future would be about in years to come.

On a Friday afternoon; when the shining sun wasn’t as burning hot as it usually was during the peak of daytime, and the never ending skies were covered beautifully in warmer tones—you decided a walk through the park near your small apartment would do you good to start off a fresh weekend. Although you absolutely detested walks, one every two months felt fine.

And to top it off, you brought your lazy cat along.

Birds were chirping loudly in perfect melodies, and the breeze was blowing nicely against your face. Your cat’s fur flowed comically with the wind, it’s tiny legs struggling to keep up with your much bigger steps as the two of you walked through the sidewalks, the familiar sound of an electric fountain and children’s laugh pleasantly invading your ears the closer you got.

Upon arriving at the small park, you realized it was not as crowded as it had appeared to be. A few families were having picnics, sitting on red and grid blankets with a couple of bamboo baskets storing food, snacks and drinks for a decent variation. Kids were running around the green grasses, occasionally playing around with the water that splashed out of the huge fountain located at the center; or watching the colorful Japanese koi fish that swam happily in the beautiful pond not far away, with their parents worriedly holding onto them in fear they’d fall into the waters.

A smile etched its way onto your face, your unbothered furry friend had chosen to take a much needed seat on the grass, realizing you had yet again stumbled into nostalgia. With a slight pull on the leash hooked around its collar, the two of you continued an improvised path around the park. The smile never left your face, admiring the emerald green oak trees as their leaves seemed to dance along with the winds, or the countless sunflowers that stood with exuberance pridefully in an extensive sea of daisies and gardenias.

Your eyes were everywhere but the path in front of you, and due to your already clumsy nature, you failed to catch sight of the boy that walked the same cute, dirt trail. The opposite way.

“I’m so sorry!” He apologized profusely when your head hit his hard chest and you went flying backwards, landing with a light thump on the ground.

In a failed attempt to remain aware of your surroundings, you clashed against him with an embarrassing amount of lack of elegance, your cat scurrying quickly to the side in fright as your bottom slightly cushioned your landing. Your cheeks were burning red, and your pet could only lovingly lick your wrist with its rough, pink tongue. Maybe if you looked anywhere but him, he would leave.

“Are you alright? I’m really so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” He continued to endlessly apologize, offering you his hand to help you up to your feet. “Are you okay? Is your cat okay?”

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry—”

“You got a scratch on your elbow!”

You turned your arm to confirm for yourself before he became even guiltier; indeed, there was a tiny scratch. Tiny.

Letting out a laugh of disbelief, but thankfulness nonetheless, you waved your free hand around dismissively with a sweet smile on your face. “That’s the smallest scrape I’ve ever seen! Don’t worry about it! You did nothing wrong, I was the one who wasn’t looking, I should’ve been more careful of my steps.”

He sighed in relief, and only now had you noticed he was walking two cats. “My name is Jeno,” you shook his hand, “I noticed you have a cat too!”

“(Name), and yes, but I’m starting to think yours are way cuter.” You joked with a chuckle. “Mine has been lazy this entire walk.”

Jeno laughed at your confession, eyes creasing adorably into crescents as his grin lit up his features completely. He had a sharp facial structure, and had it not been for his smile, you would’ve never assumed he was capable of pulling off such a sweet expression. Then his eyes beamed so brightly, and you were proved wrong.

“Well, I’m genuinely glad you didn’t hurt yourself. Except for that scratch, though. Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m totally fine,” you soothed his worries with a nod of your head, “I’m more concerned for you. Your chest is hard, Jesus!”

Jeno blushed a deep shade of pink, small eyes widening adorably as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head with a soft smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I work out occasionally.”

Neither of you had become aware of how long the time you had been speaking for was, only then noticing the beginnings of a new sunset to come. You’d argue you were in the middle of a recent golden hour, flocks of starlings flying by the gleaming sun. The skies appeared as if they were painted, random shades of faded orange and yellow slowly engulfing it whole as the minutes ticked by and the clock announced the nearing of an early evening.

You turned to face the boy again, eyes widening at how red and itchy his neck was. “Jeno! Are you okay? Your neck is very red.”

He smiled, “I am. I’m allergic to cats, this is normal.”

“You’re allergic to cats but you have two of them?” You laughed, crouching down to pet his companions. One was almost entirely black, and the other was mostly brown with a few black spots located in random places.

“I actually have three, but my mom said I wouldn’t be able to keep up with all of them.”

“That’s cute.” You admitted simply before standing up, prompting yet another wave of rosy red to fill his cheeks, the tip of his ears also burning with embarrassment.

Needless to say, although the darkness of night was getting closer and closer by the moment, Jeno thought staying to watch the sunset would be a great idea. One you did not oppose either. The two of you took a seat on a random wooden bench that was in great needs of some new paint, as its previous one was already scraping off.

He sat next to you, your cat surprisingly happy under his touch as it rested on his lap, hand running over its fluffed up fur due to all the breeze it had endured. One of his cats slept between the two of you, while the other one also laid lazily on your thighs.

The rash on his neck has simmered down a tiny bit; yet, to you, he still looked handsome under a dim lamp post light that shined over the both of you.

Soon enough, the sun had set, the sky now darkened with a few tints of lavender and pink fighting to show up. Most families had left, and only a small amount of people remained besides you two. You turned to face Jeno, finding with shock that his gaze was already on you, eyes scanning your features swiftly before finally locking with yours. He smiled again, and you weren’t sure if the butterflies in your stomach were the ones tickling you, or if it was his cat’s fur that brushed against your legs.

“Would you want to hang out some other time again? Without cats that give me allergies and actually planned beforehand so you don’t end up bumping into hard chests anymore?” He thanked whatever god was above that nighttime had arrived, and that you weren’t able to see how flushed his face was.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Stutters stumbled off his lips at your unexpected question, “do you—do you, um, want it to be a date? It doesn’t have to be! But if you want to, it can be—”

“A date sounds fine to me, Jeno,” you smiled sincerely at him, pulling out a notepad from your small crossbody handbag and writing your phone number on it before placing the small paper on his palm. “I would love to. I had a great time with you.”

Jeno gratefully returned your smile, nodding with utter happiness as the both of you got hold of your respective pets, standing up with a sigh and warmth that refused to leave your cheeks. “Want me to walk you home?”

You shook your head, “it’s fine. I live very close, so don’t worry. Just make sure to text me once you get to your own home and you’ve taken some pills for that rash.” He chuckled, nodding at your words as he looked down at you with a loving stare. “Goodnight Jeno, it was nice meeting you and your cats. I’m looking forward to our date.” With a quick peck on his cheek, you turned on your heel and on your way back to your apartment, not needing to look back at his face to know he was unbelievably flustered, red as a tomato.

Destiny surely had something awesome in store for you.

[tsukishitstain]

series m.list || part three - kindred spirits???

tsukishima x reader smau

Your phone began to play a familiar chime with your fingers ghosting over the facetime button on the luminous screen. ‘Not that hard, why am i even nervous?? I literally just talked to him in person yesterday, so why am i getting jittery all of a sudden. I was the one who suggested we facetime in the first place!!! Keep the same bold energy y/n, we can do this!!!’ tap ‘Okay there i did it, i really did it. Now we just wait for him to-‘

“Hey y/n,” holy fuck. Was his voice always this attractive?!? And his smirk quite literally made you weak in the knees.

“Hi tsuki-san,” giggles began to flow out of your mouth involuntarily. ���oh god i hope i don’t sound annoying-‘ Tsukishima continued the conversation before you got another chance to over analyze your actions.

“Cute pajamas.” he snickered mockingly as he observed your current attire.

“Okay but like, let’s appreciate how cute they are seriously, and they were on sale so i was able to get them for only like eight dollars!”

“Well you look like an adorable loser so that money was well spent.” He looked away from the camera so you wouldn’t be able to see the blush that was slowly creeping it’s way onto his face.

“You have an odd way of giving compliments~ sounds like what you meant to say was ‘y/n those pajamas compliment your supple glowing skin perfectly, you look absolutely stunning’”

“In your dreams. as if i would ever be that corny in real life”

“Oh wait tsuki, we should make those plans we talked about earlier before we end up talking and forget about it,” you suggested, knowing that you had a tendency to jump from topic to topic and talk endlessly. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well i don’t really have anything in mind...” he took a brief pause, before continuing his thought, “since we went to get coffee last time, should we go to a proper restaurant and eat?”

“That sounds perfect! Where should we eat at-“ you thought about it for a split second before an idea came to you, “actually surprise me!!”

“What if you don’t like the restaurant I choose, idiot? It would be better if you choose.”

“I won’t dislike the restaurant since you chose it, tsuki,” heat started to arise to your face as you continued, “and if I don’t then at least I got to experience something new. Sometimes you have to be an optimist and look at the positives that could come from a situation rather than all the things that could go wrong.”

“Okay, okay I get it, no need to go all philosophical on me. Does Monday work for you, or are you busy?”

“Monday is perfect! And I already told you that my social life is non existent so you don’t even have to ask if i’ll be busy or not.”

You two carried on with the facetime call, chatting about the minuscule details of your day. Eventually, the call time had amounted to over three hours. It had been three entire hours since the call began. ‘Time flows so quickly when i’m with you, i’m starting to notice a common theme here.’ You bring your attention back to the top left corner of the screen where Tsukishima resided on your phone. ‘He fell asleep?? How much cuter can he get at this point’ You were having a mini panic session as you screenshotted the wholesome moment at hand. “Tsuki, you’re asleep, right...?” Your question got no response, so it was safe to assume that he was unconscious. “I wanna tell you this now because i know I won’t have to courage to tell you this when you’re awake,” your thumbs twiddled as you grew anxious at the thought of the possibility that he could be awake and listening, “I think i’m serious about you...about this crush. I don’t think it’s a temporary crush. I enjoy being around you and you give me all these new and unfamiliar feelings...what i’m trying to say is that I think- no, I know that I like you. Goodnight Tsuki-san, sleep well.”

prev || next

A/N: so there might’ve been some confusion with the last part but i hope this clears things up😅what do you guys think of yumiko😳? the next chapter (part 4) might be a little boring but i promise the chapter after that (part 5) is going to be so so so good ( •̀ᴗ•́ )و ̑̑ look forward to it!! Also these chapters take me an unbelievable time to complete, i am seriously giving this series my all and you guys are my motivation so thank you (*ˊᗜˋ*)/ i’m so glad everyone is showing love and support <3 please keep in mind that this is my first smau ever so i’m trying my best to make everything flow coherently🥺if you have any questions please don’t be afraid to send me some asks!! also i finished this at 6am and didn’t proof read it soooo there are probably some mistakes

also,

for reference, here’s a timeline to avoid any confusion:

part one occurred on Tuesday

part two (the coffee date) occurred on Thursday

part three (this chapter) occurs on Friday

to be added to or removed from the taglist either comment, shoot me an ask, or message me <3

a strike through your username means I couldnt tag you for some reason :((

taglist~

@beastboypng @thatonee @jeez-niki @galagcica @idiot-juice-enthusiast @resetrestartandreplay

[spencers-dria]

Blood, So Much Blood

Someone To Stay Ch. 19

Spencer x fem reader

Content/Trigger Warnings: Gun, knife, blood, violence, sexual assault, NGL it get's pretty dark and twisty

You dance around your living room, slipping and sliding across the floor in your mismatched Christmas socks. You just got back from visiting your family for Thanksgiving. As much as you wanted to bring Spencer along, he had been called away on yet another case. Neither of you were thrilled, but you understood. You still bragged endlessly to your family about how wonderful he was and how much he cared about helping others. They understood as well. You seemed to win them over just with your stories of how the relationship got started.

But now you're back in your apartment, quickly cleaning up and putting out your decorations as you dance to the Christmas music station. Spencer had sent a quick text letting you know he would be back from the case tonight. You prepared for the fact that he might be too tired to spend time together, but you were not about to be caught unprepared, just in case.

The last month with Spencer has been magical. It was difficult to make time for dates with your schedules, but somehow he made it work. He always makes time for you, whether it means stopping by on his way home after his flight lands, just to kiss you goodnight, or a quick phone call after he gets to his hotel room before he promptly passes out. He had definitely fallen asleep on the phone once or twice. It was adorable and you didn't mind one bit.

A knock on the door sends your heart racing. Call it the honeymoon phase or whatever you like, but you were sure that he would never stop making you feel this way. You take a deep breath before swinging open the door, and you find yourself utterly speechless.

All you can do is stare, mouth gaping open as your eyes lock on Spencer. You don't even consider that you have yet to give any kind of opinion on his new look. You're snapped out of your daze as he stares down at his feet, nervously rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

"Um 'M sorry...probably should have told you first. Or not cut it at all. I can put on a hat if it's that bad?" He mumbles toward the ground.

He looks up, watching you with doe eyes, waiting for any kind of reaction. You finally move, your hands reach up to feel the freshly shaven sides of his head before running through the fluffy locks on top.

"Don't you dare", you mutter under your breath before pulling at his neck until he meets your lips. He's too stunned, forgetting to move for a moment before you feel him return the kiss with equal enthusiasm, hands sliding to wrap around your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

You aren't sure when you made your way to the couch, but you find yourself sitting in his lap, running your fingers through his hair as you bite at his perfectly plump bottom lip. Your tongues tease one another with each kiss as your skin ignites underneath the touch of his hands as he runs them through your hair, over your back and down to your hips.

The two of you finally come up for air. You look into his eyes, tracing his jaw with your fingertips before speaking up, "we should probably..."

"Yeah" he nods in agreement.

You slip off his lap and cuddle up into his side as he wraps his arms around you. You both sigh in contentment. You had talked about your boundaries together, and had agreed to take it slow. It was difficult. It was an outdated notion, but it's what was best for you and he respected that completely.

"Look at us making out on the couch, we're like two overly hormonal teenagers," you can't hold in a giggle as you awkwardly hide your face in your hands.

You feel him tug at your wrists as he tries to look you in the eyes.

"Yeah about that, what got into you huh?" He bites his lip as he tries to hide a smirk, showing just how much he enjoyed it.

Your gaze drifts back to his hair. "Don't laugh at me okay?"

He puts on a serious expression but you can see he's already trying to hide a smile behind it.

"You know I loved your long hair right? It looked so good. And you've always been attractive to me. Never doubt that. But this..." You slip your fingers back into the longer hair on top, biting down on your lip to keep your smile form growing too big. "This is so incredibly hot! You are officially way out of my league Spencer Reid. I mean, more so than before. You're like...male model material!"

You can see the disbelief in his eyes but he still smiles and blushes at your gushing.

"Cut it out! Be serious, do you really like it?"

You hold his face in your hand, turning it towards you as you lean impossibly close, never once breaking eye contact.

"I am being deadly serious. I already showed you how I feel about it. But if you've forgotten I might have to remind you."

His blush deepened by about ten shades of red as he looked up with you with his classic boyish smile. Same old adorable Spencer. You opt for leaving a small kiss on his nose, and he looks at you with all the admiration in the world before leaning back over to nuzzle his nose against yours. He knows you love this. You're not sure why you enjoy it so much, but something about it feel so incredibly intimate.

You hum contently, enjoying the feeling as you take in the comforting smell of winter spices and pine. He had started picking out cologne that he knew you would enjoy. You had even sprayed some of it on his sweaters that you had stolen.

He wraps the two of you up in a blanket. The only sound in the room is the crackling of the fire you had lit not long before he came over. You stay nuzzled up together, not speaking, not kissing, just enjoying being with one another.

You open your eyes to look at him, and his eyes are closed as a smile of pure bliss graces his features.

“Y/N I..."

His eyes shoot open and he looks as though something has just startled him, despite there being no other sound than that of his own voice. He stands up, walking across the room before grabbing the remote and returning to your side.

"I-I...think we should watch a movie or something. Ya know? First Christmas movie of the season." He sounds so nervous and it breaks your heart. You wish he could read his mind, and make everything better. But you know not to push him. He always opens up when he's ready. You smile and nod. It's not a bad idea after all.

You convinced him to watch one of your family's favorites "A Christmas Story". He found himself laughing along with you at some of the funny but ridiculous moments: Flick getting his tongue stuck to the pole, the father receiving his leg lamp award, the duck for Christmas dinner.

You find your mind drifting to how much you want a family of your own. You hadn't discussed it with Spencer. He may not even want kids. You had purposefully avoided more serious topics in hopes that Spencer would stay. You couldn't risk losing him. But if he was going to be around for the long haul, shouldn't you make sure the two of you want the same things? You've seen how good he is with Henry, and it melts your heart every time. He really would be a wonderful father.

You're staring at him as the thoughts run through your head. For some reason, your mouth decided to speak without asking your brain for permission.

"Do you want kids?" The words are out before you can stop them. Your hand covers your mouth in hopes of shoving them back in, but its too late. You feel absolutely humiliated and terrified. You've done it. You've ruined this. He's going to run for the hills.

Except he doesn't. Instead he turns to look at you, a bright smile on his face. "Of course! Without a doubt. "

You feel yourself let go of the breath you hadn't realized you were holding as relief washes over you like a warm shower. He reaches over, intertwining his fingers with yours and slowly rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand.

"Do you?"

"Yeah. I didn't know if it was too early to talk about but I do... I really really do."

He places a kiss on top of your head before pulling you in closer as both of you turn your attention back to the movie. You knew that was all that needed to be said, for now. It was enough to know he wanted a family as much as you do. And you hoped that he could see that future with you in it.

_____________________________________________________________

It's your last day of work before your long awaited trip to Orlando with Spencer. You can't wait to finally take him to one of your favorite places. He loves Harry Potter almost as much as you do. And you already know he would appreciate all the small details that had been placed amongst the stores and rides. You look forward to hearing every single fact he can possibly share about each ride as you wait in the lines. You know you won't be bored for a single moment as long as he is by your side.

After putting on a clean pair of scrubs, you get in the car and begin your drive to work, soft Christmas music playing in the background as you hum along.

You make it all the way to 2PM before finding the time to take a lunch break. You decide to wander down to the cafeteria in the basement of the hospital, putting in your ear buds while the elevator makes its way down.

You hear your work phone make the familiar sound, letting you know it's out of range. This is always a relief, seeing as you won't be constantly bothered while you wait in line to order your food. It's always short lived, the beeps and calls returning the second you return to the floor with lunch, but you'll take any kind of break you can get.

While waiting in line, your mind wanders to the conversation between you and Spencer the night before. It was short, but the look in his eyes told you more than his words ever could. He truly cared about you. And you really believe he saw a long future with you.

As you make your way through the empty back halls leading to the elevator, you can hear an announcement being made over the speaks, though you can't make it out over the sound of your music. Another code blue in the CCU most likely.

You walk over to your spot at the nursing desk to pick up your water bottle. It isn't until you take out your ear buds that you realize how eerily quiet the floor is. Quiet. It's like a curse word in hospitals. Saying it will certainly bring on immediate doom.

You make your way around the floor. All of the patient doors are closed, as are the doors separating A and B side. The announcement must have been for another fire drill. It's just protocol. You continue to make your way down the hall looking for any other the nurses. The doctors. Therapists. Techs? It's a weekday. The floor should be like rush hour. Instead it feels like a ghost town, aside from the patients lying in bed in their rooms.

You get an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Your pace picks up as your search for anyone else turns into more of a panic.

Before you can enter into the staff breakroom, a chill runs up the back of your neck.

"Nurse Y/L/N."

You turn to see a family member of one of your former patients.

"Mr. Gray what are you doing here? Is everything okay? Do you need help finding someone?"

"I was looking for someone. But I just found her."

His voice is stone cold. Your eyes are locked on the movement of his hand has he raises it, revealing a gun that is now pointed directly at your head. He's only a few feet away. He's not close enough for you to hurt him in anyway or surprise him enough to run away. He's not so far that he could possibly miss if he pulled the trigger.

You work to slow your breathing and you feel your emotions switch off, allowing you to focus on sharpening your thoughts in the moment.

"If you need to talk to me, we can do that. Let's just sit down and talk ok?"

"NO! You've talked enough. My wife is dead because of you. You watched her die. You didn't help her. I lost the love of my life and it's all your fault."

He steps forward, leaning so close that you can feel his breath against your ear before he whispers "and now you're going to pay."

Your mind is racing as he grabs your wrist shoving you forward. You feel the steel of the gun on the back of your head as he orders you where to turn, leading you through several doors and hallways.

They would have called the police by now right? That must have been what that announcement was, some kind of lock down. They have to know. That's why you couldn't find anyone. That means help is on the way. But what if they don't find him in time? Find you in time?

In time for what you don't even know. He probably wanted to kill you. But if he only wanted to kill you on site he would have done it already. It's the way he's ordering you around, leading you to a second location that makes your stomach turn. What could he possibly do that's worse than death? You don't want to think about it. Poor Spencer has to. He deals with this every day at work. Spencer...Spencer!

You need him here. Silently in your mind you pray that he would find you and save you before you could be in any real danger.

Mr. Gray opens a door to a patient room, and pulls the blinds shut, keeping the gun trained on you the entire time. You look for something, anything that can help you. Spencer would know what to do. He would know how to get out of this. But you. You're just a nurse, with no FBI training. And you feel truly helpless.

"Get on the bed!" He yells. You feel like you could be sick. Tears threaten to break through, but you're determined not to show any signs of fear to this psycho.

"Now!" He raises his voice even louder as he presses the gun against your forehead.

You reluctantly lay down on the hospital bed, refusing to look anything but incredibly pissed off. Truthfully, you are mortified. You want to scream, yell, cry, but you don't make a sound.

He sets the gun down and pulls out some restraints usually kept in the hospital supply room, and he begins to tie your wrists and ankles to the bed. Then he pulls out a knife, dragging it along your jaw and down your neck, before placing it right above your heart.

He leans down to whisper "One wrong move and I will slice you up into little pieces."

You feel your body tense as you fight off every natural reaction to cry or scream. Instead you spit in his face.

He wipes it off with nothing but a smug grin on his face. He knows no matter what you do, he still has total control in this situation.

The knife makes its way down, and you hear the ripping of fabric as he cuts through your scrubs. Your muscles tighten at the sting of the cool air. Your eyes clench shut as he drag the blade up the inside of your thigh, just deep enough to break the skin. You soon feel the dribble of blood running down your skin, but this is far from over. He continues in this manner, leaving cuts on your legs, your stomach, your chest, anywhere that felt too intimate to be touched by a stranger.

Tears have broken through and are streaming down your face but you remain silent. You are determined to not give him the satisfaction of begging. You try not to think about the scars that will remain, unsure if you will even make it out of this room alive.

A hand slips inside your underwear and you try to close your eyes even more, hoping to block out every possible sensation. In your mind you are anywhere but here. You're curled up on the couch, watching the fire, Spencer by your side. Spencer, who would protect you at all costs. Spencer who you love.

You are snapped back to reality by the sharp pain in your lower abdomen. Your eyes fly open to the blade sinking into your skin. And the blood, so much blood.  You can't hold back any more. Tears are pouring out as you call for help. You scream in pain. You scream so loud that it physically hurts. You scream until you lose every last ounce of energy within you. You call his name over and over, willing him to appear in front of you, if only to see him one last time before you slip into the darkness that is slowly taking hold of you.

"Spencer..."

A/N: So I included a pretty serious topic in this chapter. I know it seems like it kinda came out of no where. But I want anyone who has experienced sexual assault of any kind to know they are not alone. It is not your fault. And it is okay to call it what it is. Don't let anyone, including the little voice inside your head convince you that it is no big deal. It's okay to ask for help. It's better if you do. This doesn't have to be a friend or a parent if you're not comfortable with that. I have included the national sexual assault help line as well as the suicide help line and some other links. Never be ashamed to seek help. It takes a lot of strength. 

Also, any of you who need to talk to me about anything are more than welcome to message me. I am here for you always.

Thanks for your support in reading my story, I love you all!

Fairytales1896 aka Spencer’s Dria

Resources:

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 800.656.HOPE (4673

https://www.rainn.org/about-national-sexual-assault-telephone-hotline

Human Trafficking Hotline:  1-888-373-7888

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Hello! I was wondering if you could perhaps do a fic with Jask x reader x Geralt? (If you do trios, that's is) But reader likes Jask more even tho she's known Geralt longer, she just doesn't see him that way, and that makes Geralt really jelly, so he gets into a fight with Jask and reader gets really angry at him and he then regrets it? I dunno if that's too specific or not, also you can have it end with some understanding or not, it's up to you! Have a great day, love your writing!!!

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Jaskier x Reader x Geralt Word Count: 1,327 Rating: T Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @kemmastan @mycat-is-mylove @amirahiddleston a/n: I felt like an understanding was the best way to go because it sounds like this isn’t an OT3 of yours (since you said reader didn’t like Geralt that way) so I tried to finagle it and I hope it worked. Thanks!

They called you “their girl” and you loved it.

Jaskier had been calling you ‘goddess’ and ‘angel’ and all sorts of endearments, trying to find the one you liked as you wrinkled your nose and laughed at each. Geralt of all people had come up with it. One day you’d been trying to stay awake, incredibly sick but protesting that you weren’t, and Geralt had turned to Jaskier and said, “come on, we’ve got to get our to bed.” He’d seen the little smile you made at the sound and since then it had stuck. And it was true, you were theirs as much as they were yours and you called them ‘my boys’ and enjoyed the way they lit up (though Geralt tried to play it off). You’d known Geralt for far longer and were very close but the bard who joined your travels had charmed his way into your heart swiftly. He was endlessly lovable and you tried to make him feel it.

As you grew closer to Jaskier, Geralt saw hints of something more than friendship and an ugly feeling burrowed into his heart. He had been happy to share you with Jaskier when he knew you were all friends, but watching this man who hardly knew you make your eyes soften and your cheeks blush was sometimes more than he could bear. You had gone to market for healing supplies, leaving the two men at the inn with the promise you’d be back later. When it grew dark Jaskier turned to Geralt and said,

“We should go find our girl.”

“My girl,” Geralt bit out before he could stop himself. Jaskier eyed him curiously.

“What?”

“She was mine first,” he said.

“Well she’s ours now,” Jaskier argued.

“What do you think she sees in you? Past the pretty voice and face?” Geralt snarled. The barely held back anger slipped through in a rush and Jaskier stood directly in its path, stubbornly unrelenting.

“I make her laugh,” Jaskier answered, “And I listen to her and I make her feel safe.”

“You make her feel safe but can you keep her safe, Jaskier? You and your lute?” Geralt snapped. Hurt flashed in Jaskier’s eyes at the words, probing at a deeply guarded anxiety.

“That’s not fair,” he argued, his voice quieter than before and lacking some resolve, “Where is this coming from? What did I do, Geralt?”

The witcher didn’t have a good answer for this because he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing but be loved in a way that he could never be. Not by you.

Jaskier didn’t wait for a response he knew he wouldn’t get and instead got up and left. Geralt tried to call after him to stop, already feeling ashamed for his outburst, but the bard didn’t look back.

Geralt was alone in his room when you found him later that evening and though he looked appropriately awful when he opened it, your anger wasn’t cooled by it in the slightest. You walked in without an invitation and when he turned back around after shutting the door you were giving him a cool, assessing look with your arms crossed over your chest.

“So he ran and tattled to you,” Geralt muttered, instantly hating himself for saying it. He always found a way to make things worse. He wondered sometimes if that was part of being a witcher as much as the yellow eyes and superhuman abilities.

“I had to pry it out of him, actually,” you replied, “He refused to say anything for a long time until I began guessing and his eyes gave him away. You utter, complete, thick-headed… jerk.”

“I know,” Geralt sighed.

“No, you don’t! Jaskier has said he won’t be traveling with us anymore,” you said. Geralt looked up at you, startled. He had lost Jaskier once due to his sharp tongue, he’d promised it would never happen again. And yet…

“Y/N I never meant…”

“I’m not going without him,” you announced. The words were like cold water in Geralt’s face.

“What?”

“You heard me. Make this right with him or continue on alone. Or find new companions,” you said. You moved to head to the door but Geralt grasped your arm and pulled you back to face him.

“No,” he said, his eyes pleading though his voice was demanding, “I don’t want to lose you. Either of you.”

“Well you have an odd way of showing it,” you snapped, “Geralt why… why would you say those things? You’re not cruel, why would you hurt him that way?”

Your disappointed incredulity was harder to face than your anger. Almost harder than admitting what he had to right now.

“I was jealous,” he admitted.

“What? Why?”

“Because…” Geralt’s voice trailed off as he tried to force himself to say the words. Vulnerability did not come easily to him and there was nothing more vulnerable than confessing his love for someone who had never shown the slightest hint of feeling the same way.

“Because he’s in love with you.”

You both turned to find the door had opened and Jaskier stood there watching you both, a miserable expression on his face.

“Jaskier don’t be silly,” you argued, but Geralt was noticeably silent. “Geralt?”

“Go ahead, Geralt. You might as well say it,” Jaskier prodded, closing the door behind him.

“Geralt is this true?” you demanded.

“Yes,” he bit out the word and it lingered in the air, tension growing thicker with every passing moment.

“It’s ok, Y/N,” Jaskier said, “I want you to be safe and happy and I understand.”

“Understand what?” you asked.

“You’ve known him for longer and you had a life before I entered it,” he explained.

“Jaskier, no,” Geralt protested, “You and Y/N… it’s hard for me to admit it but of course this is how it should be. You do make her happy and she can have a life with you she couldn’t with me.”

“What the actual fuck is going on right now?” you exclaimed and both men turned to look at you. “Gods, ok, let’s just… ok let’s just rewind. Geralt, I love you with my whole heart but I do not love you in that way and frankly I can’t say for certain that you do either or if I’m just a convenient place for your affection to land when you and Yennefer are on the outs. Jaskier, you absolute nutball, I am very much in love with you and do not appreciate you shunting me off onto other men you’ve decided I should love. I didn’t let my father do it and I’ll be damned before I let you do it no matter how blue your eyes or sweet your tongue. I love you both, very deeply, in different ways. I want to continue as we have been but if this is going to be something that doesn’t work we need to admit that now.”

Your words were braver than you felt, your heart aching at the idea of saying goodbye to Geralt but your mind taking control as it needed. The men exchanged a long look and you waited a little breathlessly as they talked through look alone until finally Geralt nodded his head.

“Our girl has a point,” he said to Jaskier meaningfully, “We’ve both been asses.”

“Well our girl is used to that I’m afraid,” Jaskier replied, also meaningfully. A weight lifted off of your chest and you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You propped your hands on your hips and shook your head exaggeratedly as the blue and amber eyes gazed at you lovingly.

“Alright, well if we’re quite done with all of this, we need to get some sleep,” you announced, flopping down in the middle of the bed as was tradition. Jaskier climbed to the right of you and Geralt took the left, blowing out the candle before pulling the blanket up over you.

“Goodnight my boys.”

[cycat4077]

Sleeping Arrangements

Part 3 in the Changes verse, though it’s not necessary to read the other parts beforehand. (Part 1 | Part 2) AO3 here (Takes place Christmas 2015, right after 17x10 “Catfishing Teacher”)

Pairing: Sonny x Reader  Warnings: none (hopefully just some wholesome fluff) Words: 1858 Summary: Prior to this trip, sleeping arrangements weren't something you'd given much thought. You had been too preoccupied with pre-holiday grading, remembering the presents and packing the bags. But now, the situation poses a bit of a conundrum: one new family member and no extra beds. 

"So, my mom is a lot like yours. She'll probably smother you in love and food," you warn as the wintery highway passes by. 

"I don't mind that," answers Sonny from the driver's seat. Snowflakes collect and melt on the windshield, dispersing the morning light that shines through them. It's Christmas day and the two of you left NYC early to be able to make it upstate in due time.

"My dad on the other hand," you continue, "may look intimidating, but he's actually a big softy. Cries at chick-flicks all the time. Just don't tell him I told you that!" Sonny lets out a warm chuckle. "Noted!" Ever since you spent Thanksgiving with the Carisis, you've been excited to bring Sonny home to meet your parents. Not only that, but he also just finished a really tough case, so you hope that getting away from work and having a hardy family meal would do him good. "You're not nervous, are you?" you ask hesitantly, recalling how anxious you had been on the drive to Staten Island. "I mean, yeah, but not really. If your folks are anything like you, then I'm guaranteed to be just fine." Sonny smiles reassuringly before shifting his eyes back to the snowy roads. -x- "MY BABY!" exclaims your mother as you kick off your boots and step inside the house. You fold your arms around each other and hug. It has been too long since you’ve seen one another in person. "And you must be Sonny," she adds, waving over your boyfriend. "It's a pleasure, Mrs. -" but before Sonny has a chance to finish, your mom wraps her arms around him. A low oof escapes his mouth as she squeezes. Yep, Sonny has officially been adopted into the family. "I've heard so much about you, so it's wonderful to finally meet you!" Your mother is absolutely bursting with joy. "Likewise," replies Sonny, flashing one of his infamous smiles. In the meantime, you give your dad a giant hug, glad to see him too. Then it’s time for introductions. At first your father seems to be sizing up your boyfriend, hardened eyes scanning him over skeptically. Sonny extends his hand, offering a polite "Nice to meet you, sir" but your father hesitates. C’mon dad, you think, flashing him a stern look. Thankfully he accepts Sonny's gesture with a firm handshake. "My daughter goes on and on about you and how happy she is," he declares and finally allows a smile. A breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding in escapes, puffing out your cheeks. Always attentive, Sonny senses your unease and casts you a loving look, stepping over to slip you under his arm. After presents and overnight bags are unpacked from the car, the four of you sit down for an early supper. The dining room table is overrun by casserole dishes filled with turkey, dressing, gravy, mashed potatoes and baked carrots; everything that traditionally composes a holiday meal in your household. Once bellies are plump and full, you all sit around the Christmas tree. Growing up, family Christmas trees were always real spruce and were adorned with old ornaments that had sentimental rather than aesthetic value. And like all Christmases before, this year’s tree gives the living room a wonderful smell, while shiny bulbs twinkle from the colored lights that hang on its branches. With everyone gathered together, you swap presents. You had debated endlessly with yourself over what to get Sonny. The two of you were only together for about two months. Was that too soon to be buying expensive or sentimental gifts? Or, since we’re so committed to one another, would it be expected? Instead, you listened to your gut and bought something that you sincerely hoped would make Sonny smile. "What is it, doll?" asks Sonny while tearing at the wrapping paper. The man has the patience of a five-year old. You don't answer, but rather just watch while he takes the gift out of the box. "It's a…" Sonny's face softens and he runs his fingers over the material, "a briefcase." "For when you get that degree and become a lawyer," you elaborate timidly. The item set you back a pretty penny but it was crafted from soft, brown leather and resembled the old style of briefcases from the 50's. You wished that this gift would show Sonny just how much you believe in him. At first he's silent. He simply looks at you with an unreadable expression. He doesn't like it. It's too soon for a gift like this. But then Sonny unleashes a smile so wide that his eyes crinkle at the corners. Your tummy somersaults. "I love it!" Sonny leans over and pulls you into an embrace. You flush with warmth and nuzzle your nose into the soft juncture of his neck. In fact, you're so caught up in the moment that you forget your parents are sitting one sofa over until a quiet 'aww' resonates from your mother. You pull apart to see a pair of baby blues shining with appreciation. Sonny then gets up, sock feet padding towards his coat by the door. He reaches into the pocket, pulls something out and quickly returns to his place beside you. He extends his arm, presenting a small box with intricate wrapping. Your breath catches in your throat. It's jewelry. Sonny studies you with nervous excitement, coaxing you to open it. When you do, the velvety box reveals a silver pendant on a matching chain. You touch the cool metal delicately with your finger, tracing the outline of an apple. "Yourra teacher," Sonny remarks, his tone turning somewhat shy. "And when you like a teacher, you're supposed ta give 'em an apple." You feel tears forming in your eyes as his sentiments soak in. "It's beautiful, Sonny." And you mean those words from the bottom of your heart. It's perfect. He's perfect. You ask him for help to put it on, moving your hair out of the way. His fingertips tenderly graze along the back of your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin. When the clasp is secured, you release your hair and gently adjust the pendant to the middle of your chest. It means so much and you vow to wear it everyday. The gift exchange continues a little while longer; your parents even make sure that Sonny has presents under the tree from them. Your mother all the while brings out various baked deserts, continually offering Sonny more food even though his response never wavers from a lighthearted "I'm stuffed". There's laughter and stories to go around as afternoon shifts into evening. You share your experiences with Sonny from the past summer and your parents recite snippets from your childhood. Of course, they also provide Sonny with a teasing warning about how nerdy you can be, making you cringe out of embarrassment. Sonny, like the gentleman he is, laughs them all off and reveals a few of his own quirks to even the score. As the night winds down and eyelids grow heavy, there's a collective decision to turn in. Prior to this trip, sleeping arrangements weren't something you'd given much thought. You had been too preoccupied with pre-holiday grading, remembering the presents and packing the bags. But now, the situation poses a bit of a conundrum: one new family member and no extra beds. Right away Sonny offers to sleep on the couch. Being that your relationship is still quite new, the two of you have never done the whole sleeping over thing yet. Though uncharted territory, it seems unfair to make Sonny sleep on a lumpy sofa when he'd be driving home the next day. "No, it's okay," you announce, eyes darting between your parents and Sonny. "You can share my bed." Your father opens his mouth to protest, but your mother swiftly hits his arm to shut him up. Instead, she hands Sonny the extra pillows in her arms. "You sure, doll?" Sonny questions, blue eyes seeking yours for confirmation. "Yeah, we've got a long drive back tomorrow. Need a good night's rest." You smile and rest your hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Sonny would never get fresh with you unless you both were ready. Besides, it would be nice to finally make the dream of falling asleep in his arms a reality… "Goodnight then, you two," your mother coos. "If you need anything let us know." You give both parents a hug before retreating into your childhood bedroom. "I'd never try anything. You know that, right?" Sonny blurts as he helps turn down the sheets. You stop and look at him. "Of course I know that," you reassure. "I trust you and in no way feel pressured. Hope you feel the same." "I do! I was justa little surprised that you'd offer to share a bed, especially under your folks' roof." He fluffs the pillow and strips off his shirt.

You can't help but stare at his bare chest. That's another first and boy, is it a good one. Sonny's not the type who has rippling muscles or bulging pecs. Instead, he's lean and toned in just the right places, which, if you're being honest, is way sexier. Sonny then pulls a different tee over his head, dragging you back to reality. "My parents have always trusted me," you resume. "All my decisions are my own and they'd never judge me for sharing a bed with my boyfriend. That's the kind of relationship we've always had." "It's nice," Sonny says simply before crawling under the covers. "My parents weren't quite so trusting." He shrugs. "...But then again we were a strict Catholic household." He pats the mattress beside him and you slip in. "Oohh! Your feet are like ice!" he trills. You quickly pull your toes away. "Sorry." "Nuh-no, doll! Lemme warm 'em up," Sonny grins and reaches for your feet with his own. His warmth provides immediate relief. "That better?" he asks. "Much," you reply. "Good." He switches off the bedside lamp and snuggles down under the blankets. "'Night." "'Night," you say. A silence hangs in the darkness for a few moments. "Sonny?" you whisper. "Yeah?" "Would you...uh...Would you...Do you wanna..." you stutter out, but it seems he already understands. An arm snakes around your shoulders pulling you near. "That okay?" he asks. But rather than answer, you turn your face towards him and place a kiss to his lips. It's warm and soft and tender; unspoken gratitude for the wonderful day you've spent with him. Sonny, responds by kissing you back with a soft hum of pleasure. "I'll take that as a ‘yes’," he smirks against your lips. "Merry Christmas, Sonny." "Merry Christmas," he kisses your forehead and you cuddle into his chest. His arms hold you close as you both fall asleep. You had always dreamed of how it would feel to be nestled up with Sonny like this, and though you never expected the first cuddle to be in your childhood bed, it was still better than you could have ever imagined. It felt right. Sonny felt like home.

---

I SHALL WRITE ABOUT ALL THE HOLIDAYS! (feeback loved and thanks for making it to the end ♥ )

Part 4 here

[mysteli]

drunk text (jake x mc)

A/N: I’m back after a loooonngg time and this fic exists thanks to @brightpinkpeppercorn. I’m not really sure what to think of but I’m still posting it. it’s more of a comedic piece. But I have more romantic shit coming in the future. Don’t worry!

Warning: innuendo, swearing 

Recommended music: idk

Words: 2066

PERMA TAG LIST: @brightpinkpeppercorn@cocomaxley@hopefulmoonobject@alesana45 @jellybean-marshmellow@mymandrake@regrettingnathan@dobie2112@princessstellaris@mechaspirit@skyila @mind-reader1  @xo-endlessmayhem-xo@sakaily@justboredtrash@regina-and-happiness@annekebbphotography. @endlessly-searching-for-you@reginasayeed@zigortega4life@eileendannie@diamondoasis@speedyoperarascalparty@emomoustache@lostlightningbug@endlesstaylormckenzie @alekai-sayeed@akrenich@vickypoo91@nitta-jaeguet@femmeshep @hayden-park@mkatschoicesblog

Prompt used: ““Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night”

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! 💗and let me know if the tags work because Tumblr is acting up.

Summary: A couple glasses of wine lead Michelle and Quinn into stealing Logan’s phone. What could possibly go wrong?

Masterlist

ENDLESS SUMMER FAN FICTION DRUNK TEXT

“Who wants more wine?!” Michelle questions in a high, obnoxious tone, her voice thick with energy and excitement.

Logan and Quinn had both volunteered to help Michelle start decorating her house as she prepares to move in with Sean. She’s been talking about how nervous she is to take the next step with him but she’s also aware of how amazing it’ll be to get more serious with the man she loves. Logan is a person as helpful as they come so of course she’d decide to help her out with the interior. Same could be said for Quinn but who ever clarified that the day had to be completely innocent?

Turns out they overestimated how long this would take to complete and they finished the entire living room in the space of six hours, which is very quick for an entire room. It looked pretty put together too, with everything in place aside from the stuff the moving van forget to bring over and just that stressed Michelle out a lot.

So, when they finished, Michelle suggested letting a little loose and she revealed a bottle of wine, which was downed fairly quickly. They promised that they’d only have one glass each. But one glass slowly turned into two, then three... then four... then five. Now they’re all completely wasted.

“Me, me, me!” Logan exclaims, snatching the bottle out of Michelle’s hand and taking a massive sip.

“Hey! It’s not all for you, Lo!” Michelle argues, snatching it back with force. Logan forms a challenging smirk in response, wiping the leftover liquid off her mouth.

“Oh come on! You have about five more bottles!”

“Sharing is caring, Logan.” Quinn chimes in, smiling appreciatively as Michelle hands her another glass.

“It’s 3am, Quinn, and we’re doing this. It’s clear we don’t care. Surprised the neighbours haven’t left an complaint.” Logan responds, folding her arms as she takes a seat on the floor. They’d been playing really childish games since 10pm that night. Games like truth or dare, never have I ever and would you rather. The standard teenager trash that they’d play in high school. Then they turned to karaoke, which was a guarantee for angry neighbours, right? Yet nothing came through.

Hell, Logan didn’t even realise she’d be here this long. And she had to lie to Jake about why she was staying over. Of course, she knew he’d just laugh it off if she said she’d been drinking all damn night. But she wasn’t in the mood for his teasing so she messaged him with a little white lie, claiming they hadn’t finished and were exhausted so she’d just stay over and finish off in the morning. He understood completely, telling her he loved her and hoping she’d have a goodnight.

How oddly nice of him.

“I’m bored. Are there any games we haven’t played?” Quinn wonders, turning to Michelle for an answer. She simply shrugs her shoulders in response, seating herself on the floor with the others in the awkward little circle they’d shaped.

Suddenly, a lightbulb goes off in Michelle’s head and her face lights up proudly. “We could drunk text someone.” She beams, lifting her arms high in the air and her glass rises with them, the action causing some liquid to plummet onto the carpet. “Shit. Good thing I’m getting new carpet.”

“Ooh! That sounds fun.” Quinn agrees, clapping her hands together excitedly. “What do you think, Lo?”

“Sure, I’m down for that.” Logan nods in agreement, though if she’d know how this would turn out, she would have said no. “Who do you wanna drunk text though?”

Michelle scans the room as she thinks of a possible victim to their game, a devious smile crossing her lips as her eyes land on where Logan’s phone lies on the floor. The perfect receiver for the situation.

Logan notices the way Michelle is looking at her and a wave of realisation washes over her. “No no no, Meech! You’re not drunk texting Jake.” She dismisses the idea and Michelle rolls her eyes in annoyance.

“Why not? It would be so funny.” Michelle points out and Quinn nods fiercely in agreement.

“No it wouldn’t! Jake would get pissed.” Logan counters their argument and shakes her head in denial. “Besides he’s probably asleep.”

“Even better.” Michelle mutters, snatching the phone off the floor before Logan can stop her. Logan only now regrets ever sharing her password with Michelle.

With a proud smirk, Michelle opens the phone and goes straight to messages, finding Jake’s name as the first one. Suddenly, she bursts out laughing when she notices something unusual in his contact name.

“Oh my god, Lo! Why is there a drooling emoji by his name?” Michelle mocks, her laughter only increasing the more words she gets out. Quinn quickly joins in on the giggles upon hearing that. “Aw, and a love heart. Cute.”

Logan hides her embarrassment by clapping her hands over her face. “Fuck off, Meech. Who knows what you have by Sean’s name?”

“Oh it’s just your standard hearts. You know, because I’m normal.” Michelle corrects, struggling to suppress her laughter. “Oh come on, Lo. Jake isn’t all that.”

“Well, you haven’t had him in bed like I have, huh Michelle?” Logan beams proudly, winking at Michelle, who looks like she’s on the verge of throwing up. Another idea pops into Michelle’s mind and Logan gets worried as she begins scrolling up. “What are you doing?”

“How about we look through your past conversations?” Michelle suggests, her malicious intentions clear but Logan knows just how to shut them down.

“Go ahead then. Keep scrolling if you want Jake’s dick embedded in your memory forever.” Logan retorts and instantly, Michelle is put off by the idea, her finger scrolling back down.

“Fine. You win that one. But we’re still drunk texting him.” Michelle clarifies, preparing to type something before turning to Quinn for suggestions. “Any ideas, Quinn?”

“I say, just start off by sending him a long ass heyyyyyy.” Quinn suggests and Michelle nods eagerly. “Any weird nicknames, Lo?”

Logan doesn’t respond, rolling her eyes in defeat. Clearly she’s just gonna accept that this is happening.

“Oh! Call him Princess.” Quinn exclaims, dancing with pride as she giggles with glee.

Michelle types out the message, adding a few extra emojis for good measure.

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Princess 🤤🥰❤️

“Threw in the drooling emoji so he knows it’s you, Lo.” Michelle points out, winking at an irritated Logan.

It takes a few minutes for Jake to reply, probably since he’s waking up from a slumber or something. Michelle and Quinn jump with eagerness and curiosity when the phone vibrates, signalling that a text has come through.

i thought it was my job to call you that darlin 😉

Michelle rolls her eyes at Jake’s response, hiding a mocking smirk. “Oh shit. One text in and he’s already hit us with the darlin’ crap.”

“And a winky face!” Quinn exclaims with forced shock. “Say something, Michelle!”

Well you’re a bootiful little princess sooo maybe that should be MYY job 🥺

Almost immediately, an offended response comes through.

Little?? 😂😂

Michelle is instantly confused by his reaction to her clearly mocking his masculinity. “Okay, so he reacts to being called little but is not offended by anything else?!”

“He’s just gonna laugh it off if you call him little.” Logan chimes in, shaking her head at how childish her friends are being right now.

“How do we piss him off then?”

“Like I’m gonna fucking tell you.” Logan denies, mimicking their mocking laughter.

Yes, little. You’re my little tiny babyyyyy 👶🤪

It takes a little longer for a response to come through this time. But when it does, it’s so worth the wait.

Are you drunk Princess???? 🤔

I thought you said you were sleeping early at Michelle’s.

Michelle reads the text aloud and that’s when Logan already can’t take it anymore. She rushes over and snatches back her phone before typing an apology to Jake.

Sorry baby. Michelle and Quinn stole my phone. 🙄

Logan moves to the other side of the room where Michelle and Quinn can’t sneak attack in order to get her phone back. Stressed, she runs a hand through her platinum hair as a response comes through.

Oh. Are they drunk???

Suddenly anxious that he’d find out she lied, she buries her face in the wall and curses under her breath, not sure how to respond to his question. In the distance, she can hear the snickers of Michelle and Quinn. Hell, Logan is still drunk herself so she doesn’t have complete control over herself right now.

No 🤫

Why did she have to add the emoji?! Why?

Pretty sure that means you’re hiding something princess 🤥

“Fuck!” Logan shouts as she gazes up at the ceiling hopelessly.

“Oh shit. Did Jake find out?” Quinn teases and Logan can’t hold back her frustration in that moment. In one swift motion, she takes off her shoe and tosses it at Quinn. The red head barely dodges it and her laughter only increases in reaction. “Nice shot.”

In the end, Logan just rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her phone.

why would I lie to you?? you’re too pretty to be lied to 🥺

Oh shit. The drunk side of Logan is starting to really shine through.

yeahhhh you’re drunk too 😂damn i should’ve fucking known

Sure, he’s laughing about it. But it still fucking hurts that he found out this way. Thanks to Michelle and Quinn.

“Usually your fights turn to fucking so has it happened yet?” Michelle pipes up, only to receive a middle finger from Logan.

Out of nowhere, a phone call comes through from Jake and Logan freezes in place, unsure what to do.

“Oh wow. He’s calling you?” Quinn reacts, laughing igniting once more. “Better answer your loving husband.”

Logan sighs heavily before answering the phone, leaning against the wall as Jake’s muffled voice speaks through the call.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to get drunk and not invite me.”

Logan’s jaw drops at his reaction, not surprised with the constant teasing but more surprised by how little laughter is being expressed right now.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have lied to you. I just wanted to avoid this.” Logan apologises, exhaling sharply after she speaks. She wipes the sweat that creases her forehead, unsure why she’s so nervous.

“Hey, it’s fine. Anything to have an excuse to talk to you is a good thing to me.”

Logan lets out a soothing sigh of relief, still haunted by the mocking laughter of Michelle and Quinn from the other side of the room. Jake appears to hear it too, judging by what he says next.

“Hey, darlin’. Put me on speaker for a moment.”

Logan grants his request and walks over to Michelle and Quinn with a newly found smirk on her face, countering the mischief on their expressions.

“Jake wants to say something.”

Michelle and Quinn listen out of curiosity to what Jake wishes to say.

“Yo, Chanel and Ariel.”

They both roll their eyes at the nicknames, their expressions of mockery finally falling.

“Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night.” Jake requests at calmly as he can and Michelle and Quinn burst out into laughter once again.

“Sure, pilot. We’re so sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep.”

Jake releases a frustrated huff and Logan knows he could lash out at both of them right here right now. Before he can say anything else, Logan turns off speaker phone and brings the device back to her ear.

“Now, now Jake. Let’s play nice, okay?” She tries to reason with him and he seems to obey, judging by the collected tone he speaks in next.

“Hmph. With them, I will. With you, I won’t.”

The husky tone of his voice and the innuendo behind his words leaves Logan breathless. An unexpected rush washes through her body in reaction.

“Well, you’re just gonna have to wait until I get home.”

“Or not. You could come home right now.”

Logan checks the time once more. 3:30am.

“Jake, it’s half past 3 in the morning.”

“I’ll come pick you up. Come on, darlin’. I’m sure right now you’d give anything to be away from Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.”

[exosmutxoxo]

sweetener ☁️🍬

A/N: This is a little birthday present to my angel Ayesha @g-exo Happy birthday my love, you deserve all the happiness and joy in the world, and I hope you enjoy this little sweet treat I wrote for you ❤️ I based it off the tracks on Ariana Grande’s ‘sweetener’ album, because I figured that all of us deserve a little sweetener in our lives <3 This little scenario is nothing fancy nor extravagant. To be honest, it is one of my simplest works ever since I started writing. But hey, sweet and simple is still the best way to go  ❤️

Pairing(s): Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Fluff / Angst

Warning(s): Mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 1174

Track #1: raindrops (an angel cried)

When raindrops fell

Down from the sky

The day you left me

An angel cried

 You would be lying if you said that you didn’t shed waterfalls when you and your boyfriend finally went through with the well-overdue breakup.

You and Kim Jongdae had been in a committed relationship with each other for the past two years, but that did not mean that everything was smooth-sailing. Over the course of the past few months, both of you had been fully indulged in endless arguments, petty squabbles over nothing and days of cold silences.

The love you felt for him in the beginning had completely shriveled and died like a neglected flower, and you knew that the end was inevitable.

But still, you held on tight for dear life. You clung to your dead relationship with all your might, gripping onto the edge of the cliff with the bare tips of your fingers.

Despite the crippling anxiety you’d been heartlessly put through due to the endless arguments, you kept watering your dead flower.

Until one day, Jongdae finally pulled the carpet from beneath your feet and sent you spiraling into a bottomless chasm of heartbreak and grief.

Without another word, he called for the inevitable breakup and left you in a lurch.

And you cried. You cried, and you cried.

 Track #2: better off

I’m better off without him

I’m better off being a wild one

On the road a lot, had to keep it a thousand

So that I’m better off not being around ya

 In the weeks to come, you started to experience the inescapable heartache that comes along with a breakup. It was mental torture, and it was not a fate you would wish upon anyone.

Some days, it was like catching a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel. You started to feel a teensy bit better about yourself, feeling emotionally strong enough to coax yourself that you were better off without Jongdae.

But those days didn’t last very long. Most of the time, you holed yourself up in your room, allowing yourself to wallow in a truckload of self-pity.

Deep down, you were smart enough to know better. After the months of tireless squabbles with your ex-boyfriend, you knew that it was better off this way.

 Track #3: breathin

Time goes by and I can’t control my mind

Don’t know what else to try, but you tell me every time

Just keep breathin’

 The nights you spent crying into your pillow had done nothing but heightened your already-existing anxiety. It seemed like there was no way out of this never-ending pit of misery.

But thankfully, not all was bleak. Because there was Byun Baekhyun.

Byun Baekhyun, your best friend since childhood. The same boy who had been with you through all your ups and downs. The boy you subconsciously fell in love with at your most vulnerable state, and the same boy you grew to love for the years to come.

With him by your side, you felt like you could finally breathe. Having your best friend with you was like finally breaking over the surface of the water, of finally pulling yourself out of your own ocean of misery.

Because despite the heartache and the pain and the tears, Baekhyun held your hand through the storm. And he just told you to keep breathing.

 Track #4: the light is coming

The light is coming to give back everything the darkness stole

Healing from a painful breakup took time. It always does. For you, it took about half a year before you could finally breathe without feeling a stab in your heart, without dredging up the tainted memories of the long-gone Kim Jongdae.

After six arduous months, it feels like the light is coming to give back everything the darkness – the pain, the misery, the sobs into your pillow in the dead of the night – stole.

You had no idea how strong your heart could be. It was honestly amazing. And you wished you could have owed it all to yourself for healing so well, but you knew for a fact that you owed Baekhyun hell of a lot.

He was always there for you. The light in your darkness.

 Track #5: no tears left to cry

Ain’t got no tears in my body

I ran out, but boy, I like it, I like it, I like it

Don’t matter how, what, where, who tries it

We out here vibin’

There was nothing more positive than fully recovering from a breakup.

All the tears you cried have dried up. No more ugly sobs, no more tears in your body.

No more tears left to cry. Because you healed. Totally. Utterly. Fully. Wholly.

 Track #6: R.E.M

Last night, boy, I met you

When I was asleep

You’re such a dream to me

You knew that you were definitely falling for Baekhyun when you started dreaming about him on a regular basis.

They were sweet dreams, coming to you like angels sent from the above. Maybe that was probably why you slept all the time.

 Track #7: goodnight n go

One of these days

You’ll miss your train and come stay with me

We’ll have drinks and talk about things

And any excuse to stay awake with you

As the months went by, you grew closer to Baekhyun. Technically, both of you were already inseparable after years of friendship but this time, things were a tad bit different.

Things were always different when there were feelings involved.

You cherished your nights with him, just chatting and laughing about everything and nothing while sipping on glasses of cherry-red wine and curled up in each other’s arms. It was pure bliss, and you secretly started to wonder why you never ever saw Baekhyun more than a best friend back then.

Then again, perhaps it was all about timing. Maybe you were put through hell with Jongdae so you could appreciate heaven with Baekhyun. That was what you always told yourself, your silent reminder and comforting mantra.

While Jongdae told you goodbye, Baekhyun only told you goodnight. Because he wasn’t going anywhere, and you were eternally grateful for that.

 Track #8: sweetener

When life deals us cards

Make everything taste like it is salt

Then you come through like the sweetener you are

To bring the bitter taste to a halt

Life was definitely more than a little bitter when you were with Jongdae, especially with the petty squabbles and screaming and shouting and never-ending anxiety.

Your six-months period of healing was needed, and you emerged from the storm stronger than ever. You were grateful for your friends and family who stood by you during your tough times. You were grateful for the lessons Jongdae taught you.

But most importantly, you were endlessly grateful for Byun Baekhyun. He taught you that it’s possible for life to be a little easier, a little sweeter.  

And like the sweetener he was, he brought everything bitter to a halt.

[ardentmuse]

Hi! Could you please write prompt 24 for Harry Hart? And btw, I think that the ships idea is great! ♥️

Hello, doll! So glad you like the idea. And thank you for the request. You’ve been so wonderful in motivating me. I appreciate it endlessly. ♥

24. “Stop! That tickles!”

Kingsman - Harry Hart x Reader

“Harry, you haven’t shaved!” you noted as your boyfriend dropped the bags of groceries in the entrance of your flat, preferring to hold you instead.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, so excited at seeing him for the first time in a week. Work had kept him away, as it often did, but at least this time, Harry hadn’t been in total blackout. You had received phone calls wishing you goodnight and even the occasional text message letting you know how much he missed you. You weren’t sure where he had been. You weren’t often allowed to know. But you suspected this time he hadn’t actually been away, just up at the Kingsman estate given all the regular contact you had.

Harry laughed as he pulled you further into him, pressing his forehead to yours. “It has only been a day without a shave, darling. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

You pulled a hand down from his neck to brush at the faint stubble on his chin and cheeks. The hair was surprisingly soft and delicate considering Harry was always clean-shaven. You couldn’t stop stroking it, causing Harry to laugh even more against your lips. “Enjoying yourself, there, love?” he asked.

“Sort of,” you said, pulling away so you could see his face. Harry was smiling softly and tilting his chin into your fingers as you caressed. “It is not very you, though. I thought proper gentlemen keep clean faces. Or is that not the rule anymore?” You gave your boyfriend a smirk.

Harry placed a quick peck on your lips before picking up the grocery bags again and moving them to the kitchen. You followed quickly behind, prepared to help unload.

“How does primavera sound for dinner tonight?” Harry asked as he placed some summer squash in the crisper drawer in your refrigerator.

You began passing Harry items from the bag in front. “You have to answer my questions before I’ll answer yours,” you said, holding the juice between the two of you so he would meet your eyes.

“Truthfully?” Harry asked, taking the juice and closing the refrigerator before turning to you.

“I would hope you always tell me the truth, my love.”

Harry stepped over the remaining bags and took you again in his arms. “I just really missed you and didn’t want to waste the time this morning when I could instead be here with you. What can I say? You make me want to break a few rules every now and then.” His voice was strong and certain, finishing the last word with a firm kiss to your lips.

When he pulled away, he looked over your head at nothing in particular. “Besides,” he added, “I figured if we get married, you’ll need to get used to the sight of a slightly more disheveled me.” He turned back to meet your eyes, as though seeking an answer to an unspoken question.

Your face slowly pulled into a smile, your chest swelling with emotions. “You want to marry me?” you asked breathlessly.

Harry returned your soft expression. “Some day, yes, if that is a thing you’d enjoy. I would at least like us to start discussing it.”

You reached up to brush your hands against his stubble once again. “I would love that. Truly.”

He laughed again at your persistent strokes of his face, “You really love this, don’t you.”

“It is just so soft,” you said, grabbing at the skin of his jaw with a little more force.

Harry couldn’t repress the growl at your attentions. He leaned his face down and began nuzzling into your neck, showering your soft sensitive skin with kisses.

The hairs were catching on your flesh in lovely, yet torturous ways. Your hands came down on his shoulders, swatting and fighting him away, as you leaned back into the counter. “Harry! Stop! That tickles!,” you shrieked at him as he continued his assault of your neck.

Harry smiled as he moved to your collarbone, sliding your top out of the way to do so. “I am beginning to see the appeal of facial hair,” he muttered as he rubbed his chin into the sensitive skin at the tops of your breasts.

You sighed out his name without a thought, completely lost in the attention. You loved this man, how he could make you feel like a sensual goddess and a carefree child simultaneously. You would never get enough of his affection. The lightest brush of his hand to the most intimate and heated kiss, everything felt special and exciting still. If marriage was what he wanted, then marriage would be the most amazing journey.

“I love you,” you whispered down to the man who was slowly stripping you of your blouse.

Harry looked up at you and with a smile stood properly again. His hands came down under your thighs and pulled your legs around his waist. “And I love you,” he said, lifting you up and beginning to carry you out of the kitchen, returning his attentions to your jaw and neck as he did so.

“Harry, the groceries!” you warned, looking over his shoulder at the milk still on the floor. It was bound to be too warm by the time you returned to them after whatever wonderful activities Harry had in mind.

“Leave them,” he said, hoisting you up a little higher to get your more comfortable. “There are more important things at the moment,” he added with finality.

You tightened your grip around his neck and giggled at the gentle rub of his chin against your shoulder as he carried you off to your bedroom.

Want to request? Find the prompt list here.

[thethotwithoutfear]

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Chapter 3: Oh, What A Nite (mob!Bucky x Reader au)

Word Count: 2.599

Warnings: none other than language 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Summary: The night of the reader and Bucky’s date doesn’t go so smoothly, but Bucky figures a few things out about her that leaves him wanting more…

“Will you stop that!?” shrieked Terry, watching as you practically wore a hole in the rug with your pacing. You stopped staring at the trio of black dresses laid out on the bed (boy you really needed to get some color in your wardrobe). Your hair was done, makeup courtesy of Terry, and you worried in nothing but your slip and underwear. For someone who wasn’t particularly looking forwards to this damn date you’d had a hell of a time picking what the hell to wear. Although you didn’t give a single fuck about looking good for Bucky, one of your personal little quirks was still caring about how you presented yourself should the opportunity present itself. It wasn’t so much vanity but the pride in being presentable, you figured you probably got it from your mother. Terry gave a little giggle at just how damn nervous you looked. “(y/n), you’ll look good in any of these. You’ll probably have Barnes on the floor the second he gets a look at you” she assured you.

“I don’t give a shit about what Barnes thinks! I just don’t want to look under or over dressed! He said we’d be going to dinner but not anywhere else. What if he makes me go to the damn Bamboo club like the rest of them?” you said while suppressing the urge to bite your freshly manicured nails. “Then wear the black cocktail dress you dolt,” Terry frustratedly sighed, getting up to pick up the dress in question, practically shoving it in your hands, “You can never go wrong with a little black dress. Plus this is one doesn’t look like you’re going to damn funeral!” You scoffed at that, you didn’t dress that bleakly did you?

“Fine, I guess it’s the safest choice.” you begrudgingly agreed, pulling it over your head, Terry helping you zip it. You looked in the mirror, appreciating that you did in fact look pretty good. The dress hugging you in all the right places, the sheer elements around the straps of the dress and neckline adding a nice touch of classy sensuality. You hadn’t kept track of the time with your worrying so when a loud knock came from the front door snapping you out of your self admiration, you practically jumped out of your skin with a “OH FUCK IS IT 7 ALREADY!?” You slipped on your shoes, put your earrings in, grabbed your clutch, and slipped on your evening coat at such an alarming speed Terry couldn’t help but give a laugh at how panicked you looked. You composed yourself with a deep breathe and opened the door expecting the smug bastard you hated with a fiery passion, but instead found Steve’s angel face looking down at you in your doorway. The surprise very evident on your face, he gave a little smile.

“Wow, you clean up great! So uh, Bucky is a little caught up in some stuff at…um work..” he explained before you could open your mouth, “He asked me to do him the big favor of picking you up. He’ll meet us later. Luckily my date Sharon lives not too far from here.” You gave a small nod, thanked him for the compliment, and turned back to say your goodbyes to Terry, following Steve down to his car. You couldn’t shake the bad feeling in your stomach as you got in to the backseat.

“Hi I’m Sharon” a soft voice said, breaking your worried concentration on the leather seating of Steve’s Cadillac. You looked up to see a girl about your age, as golden and angel faced as Steve looking ridiculously pretty in a powder blue dress. You gave her a kind but still jittery smile in return and stuck your hand out to her “Oh I’m sorry, how rude of me. I’m (y/n).” She shook your hand and with a little giggle turned to Steve, “She doesn’t seem half as scary as Bucky made her out to be.” You jerked your head back in surprise looking at Steve like he’d grown another head, he simply laughed ignoring the confusion on your face and instead simply said “Well ladies, we’re off.”  

—————————————

You ended up in what you knew as the swankiest goddamn steak house in all of Brooklyn for dinner. You couldn’t help but feel a lot out place in the confines of the red leather booth you sat in, completely dateless across Steve and Sharon who chatted endlessly and with little to no effort. You wrung your hands in your lap thinking about how pathetic you probably looked, the awkward third wheel to the unfairly beautiful couple. An hour had already passed and Bucky still hadn’t shown up. You managed to take a couple of bites of your food but the mess of emotions in the pit of your stomach made it impossible to enjoy your meal. Steve and Sharon kept giving you pitying smiles and inserting you in their conversation from time to time to ease your nerves, bless them. But you couldn’t help but feel like garbage.

Everything seemed too much; too much squeaking leather, too much smoke, too much chatter, too much…lonesomeness. Your mom had called it “feeling alone in a crowded room”, you hadn’t understood what she meant back then, you liked being alone but alone like this…nobody could possibly be ok with that, it felt humiliating. Maybe it was the wine you’d managed to sip through the night, or just your stubborn spirit but you suddenly felt the anger in the cocktail of your emotions overpower everything else. No, you weren’t going to cry or feel sad because of stupid fucking Bucky Barnes. That prick was the whole reason you were sitting here looking like a fucking fool. You gave a loud and fiery huff of breathe, one so potent with anger Steve and Sharon turned to look at you. Sharon instantly recognizing just why Steve had said Bucky found you a little scary. Steve looked scared himself as you practically stared daggers into him.

“Steve I know he’s your brother but Bucky is a fucking idiot and I need you to take me to him right now.” you said, you looked like flames would shoot out your eyes at any minute. “(y/n) I-I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Steve managed to stutter out. “I don’t care Steve. I don’t. care. You’re taking me to him RIGHT. NOW.” you practically growled. “Steve I think you should do it.” came Sharon’s voice, an almost impressed look on her face. Goddamn she was so nice, maybe you’d get her number after this was all over, she’d make a great friend. “O-ok…but I’m taking Sharon home first ok? God he’s gonna kill me” Steve muttered. It made you huff out a laugh at the idea of the heir to the Rogers family being afraid of his second in command.

As promised Steve took Sharon home, she wished you luck before giving Steve a quick kiss goodnight. After that you found yourself driving into the night alone with Steve. It had gotten painfully quiet in the car so you broke it, “He better have a fucking great excuse for this shit.” Steve gave a small sigh “I’m sure he does. Look I get you’re mad but in our…line of business, some things just take precedent.” You looked at Steve like you were about ready to rip his head off before he broke your spell of fury by breaking hard and muttering an “Ah shit.” You looked ahead at where Steve’s gaze had fallen and sure enough there he was, the goddamn culprit responsible for the fury that had permeated every inch of your body. And you honestly didn’t think you could get any madder.

On the steps of what you assumed was probably one of the Rogers’ bars, surrounded by a group of other well dressed men laughing his stupid fucking head off was Bucky, a bottle of beer in hand and the other clutching his stomach. His tie was loose, a few buttons of his shirt undone, he looked absolute fucking peachy like he didn’t have a goddamn care in the world and you practically felt the flames of hell bursting from your stomach. And those flames compelled you to practically throw yourself out of Steve’s car, you could have probably made the ground shake with how hard you took each step towards Bucky, who now had his back to you.

He must’ve realized something was up from the look on the men’s faces as they caught sight of you, some amused, some confused, some even worried. He turned around to see what all the fuss was about, his blue eyes going wide as saucers at the sight of you. “BUCKY FUCKING BARNES, YOU GOT SOME FUCKING NERVE STANDING ME UP!! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! FRANKIE FUCKING VALLI?! SOME BIG SHOT!!??” you yelled. The men behind the two of you began to chuckle but those chuckles got caught in their throats the second you shot them a look that could probably set them all ablaze. “Look (y/n)-” he started, but you didn’t let him finish.

“YOU PESTERED ME LIKE A FUCKING SCHOOL BOY SO I’D GO ON THIS STUPID DATE AND YOU STAND MEE UP!? YOU MADE ME LOOK LIKE A GODDAMN CLOWN! DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CLOWN TO YOU?!” you continued. “N-n-nO!” he stuttered. “THEN WHY WOULD YOU MAKE A JOKE OUT OF ME?!” you screamed, it took all the will power in the world not to cry. You weren’t going to give him that, you’d rather die.

“I-I got caught up, I must’ve lost track of time…WAIT, YOU DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO GO ON THE STUPID DATE!” he said but you weren’t having any of it. You gave him a bitter laugh. “Oh no. No. No. NO. Don’t give me that shit. It’s about the principle of the thing Bucky!! As annoying as you are I thought you’d at least be a man of principle!!” That seemed to cut him somewhere deep because his eyes instantly clouded with hurt. Good, he deserved it.

“…You’re right” he said.

You couldn’t help but jerk your head a little at his admittance. You expected him to fight you more on it, he seemed equally a spitfire as you. “What?” you said, more so out of shock than confusion. It suddenly got very quiet. Everyone seemed to be holding their breathes. Maybe because one of their biggest bosses was admitting to a strange woman that he was wrong about something. Maybe they’d never seen Bucky yield to a woman so easily. Whatever the reason, everyone seemed to be thinking about how downright bizarre a thing it was to witness. The sound of Steve shutting his car door however, broke the silence making everyone jump. Bucky seemed to be collecting his thoughts as to what to say next. Steve gave the men around you two a look as to tell them to crawl back in to the bar so you could have your moment, following along with them.

“I-I said you’re right…I could’ve called the restaurant, left a message. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I gave you a load of shit just to go out with me and it isn’t fair to treat you like this. I know I have no fucking right to ask you this but….can I make it up to you?” he said, his head hung down in what you hoped was shame. Your mouth couldn’t help but continue opening and closing at a loss for words. How the fuck were you supposed to respond to that? On one hand he’d disrespected and humiliated your integrity, you could practically hear your mother’s voice telling you to shoot him down.  But, on the other hand you felt his sincerity and a sudden electricity in the air between the two of you. It was buzzing around your head trying to coax you to give him another shot and for some odd reason…you let it.

“Ok.” was all you could muster the clarity to say. His head shot up again, a cautious smile grazing his lips. “Thank you.” he whispered. “You better not make me regret this again…” you couldn’t help but groan. He chuckled a little, one not too full of amusement as to not piss you off again. “I won’t I promise…Will you let me drive you back home?” he asked, his eyes looking a little glassy but light again. “How else am I supposed to get home at this hour you numb skull?” you replied. He gave you a bright smile, “Ok. I deserved that one.” You gave a tired huff and walked back to the car, leaving him looking a little stupid as he realized you weren’t waiting for him to go first.

Bucky’s POV

The drive back was quiet as he expected, but what struck him about it was that it wasn’t an uncomfortable kind of quiet. Even after she’d very clearly been upset with him and probably still was, he’d expected an awkward silence between them. Instead it felt like the air around them was still, peaceful as she looked out the window into the night. It struck him then that she really was different, he’d felt it the second he saw her in the record store window. He hated saying that to himself, of course all women are different but they were never different in the way he needed. He’d gone out with his fair share of girls but all of them shared one thing: they all seemed much too eager to please, eager to do what it took to get a piece of his money, his power, his status, but never a piece of him.

And here she was, not giving a single shit as to what he had to offer or who the hell he was. She probably figured out by now what he did, everyone in the damn borough knew who he was, what he had or what he could do. But she wasn’t impressed or even frightened by him. Instead she gave more of a shit about herself. It wasn’t selfishness, it was integrity, it was character, and assurance in who she was, what she wanted, and what she deserved. And for once in his life he felt himself on the other end, felt himself being the one so eager to please. He barely knew her but something in him wanted to win her over. And maybe that’s why she scared him…just a bit.

Because this one, this one wouldn’t be won with fancy dinners, sparkly things, cheap words, or pretty dresses. Deep down he knew it would mean cutting himself open and that was hard. Being the son of mafia boss meant being cold, being closed, wearing a mask of unshakable self possession; any trace of weaknesses meant your downfall, he’d learned that. But he’d noticed it: noticed those fleeting moments when you’d softened up to him and it made him so sick with want for more of it. It was only when he’d let his poker face drop, when he’d mentioned Rebecca, when he’d let you know he was a man of his word to ease your worry, when he’d admitted he was wrong for the first time in his life. But he was willing to continue to show you that no matter how hard it would be for him and what it might cost and that scared him…

…a lot.

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Tag list: @slender–spirit @ria132love @spacequeenstuff

[waywardnerd67]

Fangirl

Summary: During a visit to Sioux Falls to check in with Jody and the girls, Dean is introduced to (Y/N) a hunter/fangirl of his. As they become close friends their relationship turns into something more. When Dean does not hear from her for a few days The Winchesters set out to find her. Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Fluff/Angst Word Count: 2721 Square Filled: Free Space A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo. Watching panels from conventions got me thinking, how would Dean react to having a fangirl obsessed with him? As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

"I can't wait to get to Jody's. I'm dying for a home cooked meal." Sam said as Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

They were on their way from a hunt in northern South Dakota and decided to visit Sheriff Jody Mills and the other Wayward Daughters living with her. "Did you tell her to make a pie or three?" Dean asked as Sam rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Dean I told her to make a pie. One. You can share it with the rest of us." Sam shook his at him as he gave him a narrowed glance.

Dean pulled into Jody's driveway seeing all the usual cars there plus one unfamiliar car. "Huh, looks like someone new is staying with her." Dean commented as they got out of the car walking up to the front door. Upon entering the home, Dean saw Alex Jones and Claire Novak sitting on the couch bickering at one another. Patience Turner was sitting in a chair next to them looking down at her phone and Jody had entered from the kitchen spotting them.

"Sam! Dean! How long you two been standing there?" She asked hugging them each.

The other girls got up hugging them as well, "Just a couple of minutes. It's good to see you all." Sam said as they walked into the living room. Dean noticed a woman standing off to the side staring at him shyly. She was older than the other girls but younger than Jody.

Jody noticed her as well and chuckled, "Sam and Dean Winchester, I would like you to meet (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." Jody put her arm around (Y/N)'s shoulders dragging her closer to them. When she shook Dean's hand he noticed she was trembling slightly.

"I-I'm going to go check on my pies." She muttered rushing off towards the kitchen. Claire and Alex started laughing to themselves as Jody shot them a look.

Dean looked to them all, "Was it something I said?" He asked as Jody shook her head.

"No, (Y/N) is newer to the hunting community and she is just a really big fan of you guys." Jody said as Claire scoffed catching Dean's attention.

"Fan? More like obsessed. 'Dean killed this many vamps and Dean saved the world again.' Dean. Dean. Dean." Claire chanted as he snapped his eyes over to Sam who was laughing.

Jody glared at Claire who immediately stopped snickering, "Yes she does talk quite a bit about you, but she is a nice girl. She is also quite the hunter and saved Claire's ass more than a few times."

Claire huffed crossing her arms over her chest, "I had it handle. I didn't need her help."

Now Dean was laughing as she chucked a pillow at him. He walked towards the kitchen seeing that (Y/N) was sitting outside on the back deck. He went out there after grabbing two beers from the fridge. She turned when she heard him open the door and quickly wiped her eyes.

"Here, looks like you might need one of these." He said sitting next to her and handing her one of the beers.

Dean watched as a small smile spread across her full lips, "Thank you." Her voice was soft and filled with innocence.

"So, how did you get into hunting? If you don't mind me asking." She shook her head taking a long drink of her beer. Seeing the bottle pressed against her mouth stir something within him that took him by surprise.

Shrugging she spoke, "Kind of the same way you and Sam did. My mom was murdered and my dad couldn't live with her so he killed himself. I hopped from one abusive home to another until finally I ran away living on my own at fifteen. I got my GED and went to community college, but I always knew I wanted to get the thing that took my mom. I began researching finding the Ghostfacers and the rest is history."

Dean groaned at the mention of the Ghostfacers, "Please tell me you didn't listen to those idiots?" He asked as she shook her head. "No, I started looking around on forums and that is when I found out about you and Sam. A lot of hunters respect you both and admire you, so I styled myself after you." He noticed her cheeks turning pink slightly.

His chest swelled in pride slightly hearing that they inspired her hunting style. He ended up chatting with her for quite a while until Jody called them in for dinner. He followed her in and sat down next to her at the table. Dean loved having dinner at Jody's house. It was the one time he felt like he was a part of a traditional family.

After dinner (Y/N) brought out three different pies for everyone. Dean lick his bottom lip seeing an apple then a cherry and finally French silk. He had a piece of each moaning as he took a bite of them. He loved that (Y/N)'s face turned bright red from his praises of her baking.

"Seriously (Y/N), those were the best pies I have ever had." He said rubbing his stomach from being full.

She smiled looking down at her hands on the table, "I bet you say that to anyone who makes you pie."

Sam chuckled as Dean kicked him under the table. For the rest of the evening everyone sat around in the living room watching movies. Dean was sitting on the floor next to (Y/N)'s legs and he rested his arm on them. He noticed Jody and Sam giving him odd looks but chose to ignore them. He liked (Y/N) and it was obvious she liked him as well.

As everyone was saying goodnight, Dean walked (Y/N) to her car. "It was nice meeting you tonight. You should come to the Bunker sometime and stay with Sam and me."

She shrugged biting her lip, "Maybe. We'll see where my next adventure takes me." She paused for a moment, "Dean?"

He looked down at her as she looked up at him with her brilliant (Y/E/C) eyes taking his breath away, "Y-Yeah?" He stuttered internally kicking himself.

"I just wanted to say thank you for being so nice to me. A lot of hunters treat me like Claire does and I'm always appreciative of the ones who take the time to get to know me." She threw her arms around his neck hugging him taking him by surprise.

As he slipped his arms around her waist something deep within him stirred. He felt comforted and like he belonged there with her. He did not want to let go of her, but he did. As he walked back to his car where Sam was waiting for him.

"Everything okay?" He asked as Dean got into the car.

Dean nodded starting the car and driving off towards the Bunker. The next day, Dean called Jody asking for (Y/N)'s number stating he wanted it in case they needed back-up on a case. Of course, she saw right through him and teased him endlessly for it. Dean sent her a text anxiously awaiting her reply and soon they started having a conversation.

Over the next few months, Dean and (Y/N) would talk, text and meet up on cases all around the US. Where they never had titles for one another or expectations everyone around them knew they were together. Dean would opt for staying in and talking with (Y/N) than to go out to a bar anymore which please Sam immensely.

One morning, Dean sent (Y/N) a text checking in how her hunt was going in Washington. By the afternoon he still had not heard from her and called her leaving a voicemail, “Hey sweetheart, just me. Was checking to see how your case was going. Call or text me soon.”

When he still had heard from her by the night panic began to fill his chest. He was pacing in the library when Sam came walking in, “You okay?” he asked.

“No, I’m not. I haven’t heard from (Y/N) all day. She hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts and that’s unlike her. I’m worried.” Dean explained getting more frantic by each word that come out of his mouth.

Sam grabbed a hold of Dean’s shoulders shaking him slightly. “Get a hold of yourself. She is probably fine and just focused on the case. We’ve all done that and she is probably a better hunter than us now.”

Dean bit his lip nervously nodding, “You’re right. She is definitely a better hunter than us.” Sam chuckled as they both head off to their rooms. That night and the next Dean hardly slept still hearing nothing from (Y/N). Finally, he decided to call Jody to see if she or the girls had heard from her.

“Sheriff Mills.” She answered.

“Hey Jody, it’s Dean.” He said pacing in his room.

He heard Jody talking to someone in her office, “Hey Dean, how are you?”

He sighed heavily, “Jody, it’s (Y/N). She went out on a hunt and I haven’t heard from her in a few days. Has she talked to you?” He asked getting the same sinking feeling he did when he went to Stanford to get Sam thirteen years ago.

“Sorry, Dean I haven’t heard from her. Do you want me to put out an APB on her and her car?” she asked and he could hear the concern in her voice.

“Yes, please do that. I’m going to make my way to Greenwater, Washington just outside of Mt. Rainer National Park. That is where she found a case that sounded like a werewolf. Just call me if you find anything.” He said already grabbing his bag to pack his things.

He heard her sigh, “Will do and Dean be careful.”

Him and Sam drove the day and half trip to Greenwater finding the nearest motel. As they pulled into the parking lot Sam pointed out, “Dean look, it’s (Y/N)’s car.”

Dean parked right next to it getting out quickly to inspect it. It looked as if it had not moved in days adding to the panic Dean was already feeling. Sam picked the lock to her hotel room and as they entered it they both stopped dead in their tracks.

(Y/N)’s room was trashed as if a fight had happened. Broken furniture, her stuff everywhere and then Sam tapped his shoulder. Dean looked up to the mirror in the room where there was message waiting for them.

“Winchesters, if you want your precious pet back then meet us at this address.” Written out was a local address that Sam was already typing the it in his phone as the rushed out the door.

They drove up to an old farm house that was seemingly unprotected by any monsters or warding. “You know this is a trap, right?” Dean asked.

“Definitely a trap.” Sam said as they park the car grabbing their gear from the trunk.

They sweep around the barn before going in the large barn door. Looking around they only saw one person there. A petite woman in tight jeans, tank top and a black leather jacket. “Hiya boys, so glad you could join me. This is a reunion I’ve been waiting for.” She turned around smiling widely.

“Who exactly are you?” Dean asked pointing his pistol at her.

She chuckled walking closer to them, “Hurt a girl’s feelings by not remembering her. We go way back especially Sammy and I. You’re looking good big boy.”

Sam glanced over to Dean then back at her, “Ruby? That’s not possible, we killed you ten years ago.”

“What did you boys think was going to happen when you sent Lucifer to The Empty? He raised a little hell and whole lot of us got to come back to little ole Earth. What was the first thing I did? Found the Winchesters pet.” Ruby was practically skipping towards them now.

The brothers looked to one another the realization that if Ruby came back then a whole lot of other demons and angels from their past could be back as well. Dean narrowed his eyes at Ruby, “Where’s (Y/N)?”

Ruby pouted her lip out, “She a little occupied right now, but I promise you can see her soon. See boys, I’m just here as a messenger. Well, a warning really. Watch your back boys, because there are a whole lot of big nasties that will be coming after the two of you. So, everyone you love and care for better run because they are the first to go. Like poor, innocent (Y/N). Goodbye Winchesters, for now. Come along Sammy!”

Ruby patted her leg and they saw giant dog like paw printed outline on the floor of the barn. Dean felt a cold chill run down his spine as the hellhound followed Ruby out the door leaving a trail of crimson droplets in his wake. Dean ran over to the barn stall and his heart stopped. (Y/N)’s lifeless body laid on the ground torn to pieces.

Dean was could not hear anything Sam was saying to him as he just stared down at her. He could hear his heart beating in his ears as loud as a bass drum at a concert. His knees gave out on him as he fell to the ground kneeling at her feet.

“Dean. Dean!” Sam yelled as he looked up at his brother blankly.

Dean tried to talk but could not get his mouth to form the words. His voice inside his head was screaming and raging, but yet he kept staring at her unable to comprehend that she was gone. The next thing he knew Sam and Cas were lifting him up off the ground and helping him to his car.

He looked up at them as they sat him in the backseat, “Sammy, is she really gone?” he asked as his voice filled with the desperation flooding his body.

“Yes Dean, she’s really gone. I’m so sorry.” Sam said as Dean looked down his eyes rapidly moving from side to side. That is when he could no longer hold it together.

“NOOOO!” He screamed as the sob burning in his chest ripped through it and escaped out his lips. The dam he had perfected since he was a child to hold back tears broke and freely they rushed down his cheeks like a waterfall. Sam held on to Dean as he poured out all his grief and agony. Sam held him until he wore himself out and laid down in the back of the Impala falling asleep.

The next few days, Dean hardly spoke to anyone. He stood watching Sam and Cas build a pit with wood then he carried her cloth wrapped body placing her on the platform. Standing there with his Sam, Cas, Jody and the girls he threw the book of matches on the doused wood watching it instantly go up in flames.

Claire and Alex were under his arms half holding him up and half leaning onto him as they cried. Dean tried to cry but he could not. There were no more tears left within him. The only thing left within him was a fire of fury burning throughout his veins. A rage so hot that if he thought about it for too long his body would tremble.

As everyone else left the fire he stayed until the last ember burnt out. “I promise you, (Y/N) I will kill that bitch demon if it’s the last thing I do. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I should have been there…” He trailed off as a strong breeze blew through picking up her ashes and twirling them around in a spiral.

Dean smiled slightly taking one last look at the pit and then turned around set his jaw in a firm line while clenching his fists. Determination flowed through him as he got into Baby roaring the engine to life and taking off before Sam or anyone else could stop him. In his rearview he saw Sam and Cas running after the car throwing their hands up in frustration.

“Sorry guys, this is one mission I have to do alone.” He whispered looking forward to the open road.

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My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @waywardrose13 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ladywinchester1967 @dwgrl1903 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @mirandaaustin93 @spnbaby-67 @time-travel-bouqet @1967-essentialghoul @weirdoblogger69 @dean-winchesters-bacon @jensenyourdeanisshowing @destielhoneybee @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets 

[blissfulparker]

Cuddles||Newt

Warnings: none just fluff

Newt x reader

A/n: this is really short and shitty so I apologize in advance

The glade was winding down for the night as it usually would. You usually would sit in your hammock with whatever book the box sent up and a cup of mixed herbs that would make delicious tea. No, you were in the map room with the greenie and Minho. You didn’t even know why newt had let him become a runner when he was so new, but here you were sitting in a chair talking endlessly about the maze.

“Can we just call it a night? Work on this tomorrow morning?” You asked annoyed with the fact that you’ve been sitting here for what seemed like hours.

“(Y/n) listen, we’ve found places of the maze that we haven’t seen before, we’re really getting closer to finding a way out. I think if we-“ you cut him off not being able to take it anymore.

“Yeah Minho? We’re close to finding our way out? You’ve been here for over 3 years and so have I, and we’re just going to let this greenie tell us where to go? No, I’m tired and I’ve been running all day. Us getting out of here can wait another day because it’s waited another day for the past three years Minho. Three years! I’ll be up at our usual time. Goodnight.” You didn’t mean to snap but you did. It honestly felt nice to you knowing that you’re always sweet to everyone in the glade.

You walked out leaving both boys shocked with your actions though. You’ve barely ever gotten mad at Minho but he’s seen you get mad at gally and newt and he knows it’s not pretty. You also didn’t mean to scare the greenie out of his mind when you got mad, he seemed nice you just were not going to take orders from the new guy.

Frypans kitchen was where you gathered your herbs to make tea for the night, and that’s exactly what you did. You stood there heating up water and setting the herbs in your cup as you felt a pair of arms snake around you.

“I heard you were snappy today love.” The voice say planting kisses on your neck. You let out a soft moan out of relief that he was there.

“I didn’t mean to snap I was just really tired and annoyed. I’ll apologize to Minho and Thomas tomorrow.” You said turning around with the now ready cup in your hands as newts arms were placed on your lower back.

“Don’t worry. Minho and Greenie will get over it. besides, you put your foot down every now and then. That’s what I love about you.” He said kissing you softly.

“Can we just lay down I’m really tired and just wanna cuddle” You said taking one hand off the cup and running it through his soft hair.

“Of course, love” He smiled softly taking your free hand as you both walked back to the hammocks.

You both situated yourselfs pulling the blanket over the both of you so you were both warm. You laid there with your cup of tea, head on his chest, and legs intertwined. This was what you were looking forward to all day. Just the two of you laying down, not speaking a word to each other but rather just laying in the presence. He would run his fingers up and down your side and occasionally grab your butt.

He made you feel so loved and appreciated you didn’t know what you would do without him. He was a solid rock that was holding you together. You could even remember when newt tried to kill himself in the maze. Minho lied to you for months to ‘protect’ you from the truth saying newt didn’t want you to know. That hurt you a lot from newt but you knew it was because he was scared and so were you.

“(Y/n), where do you think we’ll go when we get out of here?” He asked. The sounds of the woods and givers allowed you to wonder.

“I have no clue, but as long as I’m with you, Minho, chuck, frypan, shuck even greenie, I’ll be okay.” You looked up at him placing a kiss on his neck.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He said as he squeezed you closer than you already were to him.

“Neither would I.” You replied kissing him on his soft lips right before you start to drift into a bliss of sleep.

[wildgrave]

@annawrites​ tagged me in this ask meme thingy so here we go!!

1. coke or pepsi: neither!

2. disney or dreamworks: i... do not care

3. coffee or tea: coffee. preferably with extra shots of espresso.

4. books or movies: books!

5. windows or mac: I AM SO BAD AT USING MACS THE DOUBLE SCROLL THING ENDLESSLY CONFUSES ME so windows

6. dc or marvel: marvel!

7. x-box or playstation: secret option #3: pc

8. dragon age or mass effect: never played either!

9. night owl or early riser: i go to bed early and sleep in late b/c i need a solid 12 hours to function #justlittledepressionthings

10. cards or chess: cards

11. chocolate or vanilla: chocolate

12. vans or converse: i’ve never worn either

13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar: .......???????

14. fluff or angst: FLUFF 100% 

15. beach or forest: beach

16. dogs or cats: as i am a Literal Puppy..... dogs

17. clear skies or rain: clear skies with lots n lots of sun!!!!!!

18. cooking or eating out: i’m a god awful cook but i also hate going to restaurants other than IHOP. also pls appreciate the self restraint it took to not make an “eat pussy” joke

19. spicy food or mild food: i’m That Bitch that walks into chipotle like... is this water spicy?? honestly i have 0 tolerance for spice

20. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: i don’t like either v much, but halloween, if only bc u can literally wear a corset and bunny ears and no one cares, which is the hoe shit i approve of

21. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: a little too hot

22. if you could have a superpower, what would it be: NONE of that mind-reading crap. probably something basic like super-strength or a nature related power!

23. animation or live action: live action

24. paragon or renegade: ?????

25. baths or showers: showers

26. team cap or team ironman: cap

27. fantasy or sci-fi: fantasy

28. do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they: 

enthusiasm is the best protection in any situation

turn soft and lovely any time you have the chance

i want to be the owner of my own trouble

29. youtube or netflix: netflix!

30. harry potter or percy jackson: oh you know i dont really prefer either EXCEPT THAT HARRY POTTER IS THE SUPERIOR SERIES THANK U AND GOODNIGHT

31. when you feel accomplished: after finishing an essay or cleaning up a bit

32. star wars or star trek: star trek!

33. paperback books or hardback books: paperbacks, but only bc theyre easier to bend around and write in.

34. to live in a world without literature or without music?: what kinda bullshit

35.  what’s one thing you hope to accomplish in life?: helping ppl

36. who was the last person to make you laugh? myself bc im HILARIOUS

36. which is better: sour or sweet candy? sweet

37. do you believe in aliens? yeah

38. dawn or dusk? dawn, bc theres nothing like staying up all night and hearing the birds chirp and looking at that beautiful sky and thinking “aw shit i fucked up”

39. piercings or tattoos? POR QUE NO LOS DOS

40. physical book or kindle? physical

41. fantastic beasts or cursed child: i havent read either, but given the fact that cursed child is literally my immortal on crack cocaine..... fantastic beasts

42. rock or pop music: rock

43. big cities or small towns: big cities! small towns are cute for a lil bit but i get bored really easily

44. girls? always

45. volcanoes or black holes? FUCK A BLACK HOLE, VOLCANOES ARE WHERE ITS @

46: Favourite language (either to listen to, or that you can speak): english bc its wild and fucked up and honestly? i relate

47: sun or moon? SUNSHINE SUNSHINE, ITS FINE, I FEEL IT IN MY SKIN, WARMING UP MY MIND

48: perfume or cologne? perfume

49: favourite season? summer!

my question:

50: what fictional world would you live in, given the chance?

aaaand i tag @metalarmsolid @folivorah & anyone who wants to!