#i offered to switch so he could be comfy in an outside seat and I could... like.... sit...

[kaesaaurelia]

Oof. Nothing like a bus ride that makes you wish you'd missed the bus.

[partycatty]

I have this idea:

Johnny Cage x tomboy (can be gender neutral reader), I see the reader as a introvert, gamer, a bit of a nerd that prefers to wear comfy pants than elegant, tight dresses/skirts. Johnny likes to talk to them cause they can play games together (I believe that johnny being a bit of a gamer is a fact stated in mk1, when we have a Cage's Mansion tutorial?) and so he decided to invite reader to a red carpet event created because of the launch of his new movie. It's first time in their life to attend such thing and they really don't know what to do... (the rest is up to you, they can either fuck before the event while reader is trying to pick a good outfit or just go there and have fun or whatever<3)

johnny cage > zip me up

johnny's not used to seeing his best friend in anything but a hoodie and sweats. what happens when they have to dress outside of their comfort zone?

warnings: nsfw... :3, exhibitionism?, hardcore praising LOL, awkward reader (no rizz ...), reader is written as curvy? LONG POST LOL

notes: i physically cant write dom johnny without it sounding super ooc LOL ALSO!! im so sorry if the formatting is iffy, ive been forced to use desktop and the formatting is completely different than my usual mobile writing

masterlist

honestly, it's hard to gauge what games he'd actually play, so a part of me believes he mainly plays... mortal kombat. and yes, since he is canonically responsible for the franchise existing, he would main himself. or maybe he'd play fortnite, lord knows he'd have his own skin.

"come on, man! you can't keep picking general shao! you can just say you hate me," johnny groans, staring at the character select screen. his favorite thing was to drop tidbits about the characters and compare them to the real life counterparts. "i'm still mentally recovering from witnessing his ugly mug."

you chuckle and lean back in your chair, pulling your headset mic closer to your lips. "would you rather i picked one of your buddies? kenshi, or as you called him, sexy face two?"

"and now you're asking me to beat up my best friend," johnny sighs dramatically. you giggle, and it makes his heart flutter and cheeks redden. thankfully, today was a day your webcams were turned off so you were none the wiser. you make a comment that he's the one that wanted to play a game that features his real friends and actual enemies which earns yet another groan from him.

"if you're gonna be annoying, we could switch to something else?" you offer teasingly. "not my fault you choose to stare at yourself every game instead of learning combos."

"oh hush, you love me," johnny replies, earning a little peep from you out of surprise. he loved to push your buttons and flirt with you. it was in his personality, sure, but because of it you did have a massive crush on him. it was innocent and purehearted, but you just couldn't see yourself risking your great friendship over some silly feelings. "you love it when i'm difficult, don't lie to yourself."

"...shut up," you pathetically try to retort, sinking into your seat and fighting the flush on your face. "are we gonna run another round or what?"

"actually, i had something to ask of you," johnny says, tone suddenly serious and almost unreadable. you feel a pit in your stomach at his tone, wondering if maybe you're in trouble. your mind spirals as you nervously fidget in anticipation. "well, two things actually. could you turn your camera on so i can properly ask you?"

you shakily turn your camera on in discord, anxiously glancing between your monitors and camera lens. johnny smiles to himself, leaning forward get a closer look at you as if you were sitting across the table from him.

"good girl, there we go," he says encouragingly, making your thighs clench as you use your sleeves to hide your face. "no, come on, don't hide. here, let me-" he clicks on his own camera button and his webcam blinks to life. he smiles directly into the camera, and for a moment you're winded at the reminder that you're best friends with a celebrity. "-there. now it doesn't feel like i'm talking to my computer."

"well, you are-" you speak up, ready to go on one of your famous tech tangents. johnny holds up a single finger, shushing you instantly. as much as he'd love to hear your voice for hours on end, he wanted to squeeze out what he was going to say first.

"-hold your tongue, my dearest nerd," johnny quips with a wink. "my favor first." you tense up before he speaks up again. "i've got a movie coming out. finally, right? point is, cris is an absolute no-go, and my assistant couldn't find a damsel to hang off my arm in time for the red carpet. so, next best thing, i was wondering if... you'd be my plus one."

"i-i don't dress up, johnny," you protest, looking away. "all those cameras, all the shouting... not for me."

"it's not all bad," he insists with a smirk. "you'll have me. all you have to do is stay close to me and smile."

you stammer, trying to spill out more excuses for him to give in and stop asking.

"i don't have a dress-"

"i'll buy you twenty."

"nobody knows who i am-"

"eyes'll be on me."

"what if someone laughs at me?"

"doll, have you seen some of these hollywood clowns? you'll look just fine."

you tug at your hair, exasperated. he came prepared with every response, had every reason to bring you to the carpet. you wanted to say no, but truth be told, you missed johnny dearly. you don't get to see him in person often, given your medium distance and his constant work. a meek "fine" escapes your lips and johnny cheers to himself, his excitement painted all over his face. it made you warm how well he was at showing his appreciation at times.

"i knew i could count on you, sweetheart. this means the world to me. i'm getting you tomorrow at three, okay? we're gonna get you a nice dress, i'll get a matching suit tailored... oh, it'll be like prom all over again!" he's gesturing wildly as he hypes himself up over the plan.

"i never went to prom, johnny," you chuckle to yourself, eyes on your keyboard. "i wouldn't know the experience."

"well that's ridiculous," johnny looks surprised at this fact, for a reason you can't pinpoint. "i would have asked you if we knew each other then."

"i'm sure," you agree shyly, turning away to try and hide your blush. "i'll see you tomorrow, johnny."

"see you tomorrow, doll," he smiles at the camera again, and you catch a glimpse of it as you weakly return the expression. then, johnny leaves the call, leaving you huffing and blushing. he just asked you to be his plus one on the red carpet, for his movie, for his fans... all eyes will be on you. the thought terrifies you, but maybe you could push through for your friend. you were a software developer, mostly confined to your dimly lit bedroom. this was a whole new realm!

you roll around on your bed and kick your feet, wondering why you're always so awkward around him. if you fumble at all in public, your world might just fall apart. sleep doesn't come easy for you, but it eventually overpowers your anxiety.

sunlight creeps through your windows. despite your usual tendency to sleep in, your nerves shot you awake slightly earlier than that, and you tried your best to negate your shakiness through games and squeezing in any work projects you could make up - before a firm knock was at your apartment door.

you fly to the door and swing it open, excited to see the only man that gets your heart pumping. he's matching your energy with a cheesy grin, immediately charging at you to embrace you in a bear hug. his cologne makes you tingle as you breathe in his shirt fabric. when he pulls back, he chuckles to admire your attire. you're wearing your usual sweatpants, hoodie, and slippers.

"you clean up nice," he compliments you sarcastically. "it's nice to finally see you, honey." you shrug with a shy smile at his endless pet names. "let's get you into something more flattering, yeah?"

he encourages you to his car, it's one of his nice sports cars with his name printed across the seats. you always felt out of place in his luxurious lifestyle. however, even through the two hour car ride back to malibu, you found yourself familiar and comfortable alongside johnny.

"you didn't have to drive four hours just to see me," you insist quietly, voice muffled against the window as you admire the waters. "it's a lot of trouble for one night."

johnny seems to genuinely seem taken aback by your deprecating comment. he leans over and slides one hand on your knee, patting it gently.

"you know i'd do anything for you," he speaks in that dangerously low tone, stealing quick glances as he desperately tries to focus on the road. "i want you with me."

even after his comforting pat, his hand lingers for a moment, sliding up your thigh with feather touches. you cover your lips with your finger to muffle any whimpers that threatened to escape. you always hated how touchy he was, and by hated, you mean it turned you on embarrassingly easily. as the road straightens out, you realize he's staring directly at you with suspiciously blown out pupils, but snaps back into reality as quickly as you noticed. he clears his throat and removes his hand, settling them both back on the steering wheel.

perhaps he just missed me and wants to be closer, you thought. he's always clingy, he probably just... you're having a hard time justifying his needy glances. they looked off. it's been a stupidly long time since someone eyed you down like that.

after what felt like a thousand years, the city comes into view and johnny parks at a luxury outfit boutique. it's small, but the window mannequins alone make you swallow nervously.

it takes quite some time to decide on a dress, because you internally decide that every possible option is unflattering. each time johnny pulls a dress from the selection, you cringe and shake your head. the sleeves were either too long or too short, the skirt was too flowy or too loose, or the color wasn't quite right.

"how about i pick one for you?" johnny offers, a little exhausted at how difficult you were being. "you just go sit in the dressing room, i'll slide you a couple dresses and don't think too hard about this. you'll look great in anything, my dear."

you agreed with his idea. maybe it'd be best for the celebrity that's known to dress nice to put you in something that'll definitely turn heads and keep you confident. it was unfamiliar territory for you, after all, since the last flattering thing you wore was a one-piece swimsuit on a beach trip with your family.

after some time of fidgeting in the dressing room, johnny slides the curtain aside and greets you with a smile, his veiny arm holding about a dozen dresses. he's got his iconic shit-eating grin as it seems he has something devious in mind for you.

"don't look so afraid," johnny shrugs, nudging you playfully. "i'll treat you right, pinky promise." he holds up the first dress, a flowy one with off-the-shoulder sheer sleeves. it looks like something out of a fairytale, and you're reluctant to deny his suggestion when he's cheesing so damn hard. you smile back and shove him back behind the curtain, giving yourself space to change.

you slide into the dress, catching it on your hips momentarily but pulling it past without tearing it thankfully. when you pull it up to your chest, it takes quite a bit of tugging, seeing as the fabric isn't as stretchy compared to what you're used to. when you fall silent as you try to pull the dress up, johnny assumes you're ready and slides the curtain aside, stepping in eagerly.

"how's it-" he cuts himself off when he gets a good look at you. you're flushed from trying to squeeze into the fabric, and your breasts (that he didn't even know you had) were spilling out of the front. his lips get sucked inward as you witness the gears come to a screeching halt in his head. his eyes may have been hidden from his sunglasses, but you know for a fact he's checking you out. "i like that one." his voice is too monotonous for him to truly be emotionless. it's like it's taking every ounce of his being to be normal.

"i don't," you mumble, continuing your fruitless attempts much to johnny's delight as your boobs ripple with each pull. "i can't get the stupid zipper up in the back, either."

eager hands shoot out to you as johnny takes quick strides to stand behind you. your front is facing the mirror, your hands resting atop your breasts and eyes focused on the man behind you. when his head tilts town to get a good look at the zipper, you notice his eyes are far darker than the typical warm brown.

his hands fumble tremendously as he tries to keep his shit together. he uses one hand to keep the parts together and the other to get the zipper sliding.

the sudden jerk catches you off guard and you're far from balanced. thankfully, your palms press against the mirror to keep yourself upright, and johnny lurches forward as his grip is pulled with you. his hands fly to your waist to ensure he doesn't topple you over.

you would have gotten up like nothing happened, and maybe apologized, but during the scuffle you felt something hard and warm through your skirt. johnny's nose is tucked in the nape of your neck when you fully realize your predicament.

as you sputter out his name to call him out, you feel his lips smile against your back. his hands loosen momentarily, but don't pull away.

"uh, sorry, doll," he mumbles into your skin, not sounding all too apologetic. "pretty girls in dresses just... gets me goin'."

"i'm not pretty," you mutter, averting your gaze. johnny lifts his head and looks at your reflection incredulously.

"you're joking, right?" johnny replies, brows furrowed. "babe, look at yourself." he grabs your jaw from behind and angles your vision on your body. "i didn't know you were carrying all this. i almost want t'take you out and get you a whole new wardrobe just to get you out of those garbage bags you're always in. pardon my french doll, but you're fuckin' hot." as he speaks, his hand snakes down your throat, your shoulder, and then settling firmly on your hip, not even hiding the brief sweep he made against the flesh of your chest.

you're left staring in awe. he was always charming around you, but never outright flirting. you glance toward the curtain; what if someone heard all this? you swallow thickly, moving back to look at johnny apprehensively. he's biting his lower lip, suddenly thrusting more against your body, letting a shaky breath as his face is now buried in the crook of your neck as he tries to hold it together.

"you got me all riled up seeing you in that, you know," he warns you in a husky voice that dampens your panties. "so you can't say you aren't pretty. feel what you did to me." the air feels intensely different than it was when you guys were just friends. he's confessing something he'd implied to feel for quite some time, but you never envisioned the day it'd come to fruition. you can't really say you were complaining when he pulls your hips toward him, letting him use your ass to grind down on ever so slightly. your stillness throws him off for a moment, and he looks up at you through the mirror with concerned eyes. "you don't seem into this. i can stop."

"n-no!" you yelp out, sounding a little more desperate that you'd like to admit. "this is okay."

"just okay?"

"well, no, but - i'm sorry, i don't know what to say."

"do you want me to stop?"

"...no."

"good girl."

he presses a little harder against you, keeping you upright and stopping your knees from buckling with his rough hands. abruptly filled with a primal hunger, johnny tugs the long flowing skirt up in bunches, gripping it tightly to get a glorious view of your ass. this interaction was not prepared for, so you couldn't help but feel flustered when your boyshort panties are fully on display. johnny just chuckles to himself as he grabs a shameless handful of one of your asscheeks anyway, squeezing hard enough to leave red prints behind. you bite down on your lips to stop any noise from coming out, but a moan of surprise slips through.

johnny wraps one arm around your midsection for stability, and the other flies up to your lips to hold his palm over your mouth.

"if you want this, you're gonna stay quiet, is that clear?" he growls into your ear, head tilted toward you but eyes fixated on your reflection's eyes. all you can do is nod. "i'll show you how fuckin' pretty you are."

he slides your panties down with ease, expelling a shaky groan when he watches a trail of your wetness follow the fabric. his cock is swiftly freed from his dress pants and he slides his throbbing tip against your folds, creating a sopping sound to the trained ear. if the store was quiet enough, the entire building would know how soaked you were for your best friend. all you can do is whimper and gasp as your noises are muffled by his hand. johnny leans forward and gently shushes you, lips brushing against your ear.

"you can do it, princess," he assures you in that husky voice before holding intense eye contact in the mirror. "you look so good like this, don't you think?"

your pupils were blown out and your cheeks were stained a deep red as you're bent over for the actor. you didn't feel pretty, still. you felt... needy.

you pressed back against his cock, and it slips between your folds before catching on your aching hole, making you twitch. the sloppy friction makes johnny moan against your skin as he hungrily matches your movements. he slides his hand down and toys with your clit, wetting the area with your own juices which seems to be plentiful. he sticks two fingers inside, not bothering to ease you into the process at all. he needs you now, and if "now" is in a clothing store, then so be it. your pussy burns from the sudden stretching, but you take it because it makes him happy to see how eager you are for him.

"i should've put you in a dress sooner," he mutters, hazy eyes staring right through you as he relishes in the way your walls embrace his fingers. "you look beautiful, my dear. angelic. i wanna ruin you so bad, baby, but i can't. not here." his words already bring you closer, but as you feel the tension building inside he leaves you empty and sopping... but not for long.

his tip slides in with ease, and he has to bite down on your bare shoulder to stop himself from losing it entirely. it's the first time in a long time a pussy has been too good for him. he's stuck his dick anywhere and everywhere, but you take the cake. his bite deepens when he slowly but surely bottoms out, his own knees buckling at your gorgeous insides.

"mmf, so fucking good," he groans into your flesh, eyes clenching shut. "my pretty girl. all mine, yeah?" you nod lazily, too entranced in the fact that his cock is buried inside of you. you'd had sex before, but it had been quite some time. years. and his dick just felt impossibly big.

"i could stay like this forever," he mumbles, almost forgetting to thrust. you remind him quickly when you shake your ass needily. "ah, but i shouldn't. you deserve to feel good."

he pulls out slowly, admiring the thin coat of juice painting his shaft before thrusting back in. he's careful to move just enough to hit deep, but not enough to make the slapping sound too obvious.

"there you go," johnny encourages you as he starts to slowly pump into you. "you take me so well, so pretty with my dick buried in you."

you almost wanted to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming. just yesterday, he was your duo in your favorite game. and now, he was fucking into you in public. the thought makes you dizzy and you have a hard time keeping your head upright, that is, until johnny pulls your face up to the mirror again, still muffling you with his palm. you want to say you're the one enjoying it most, but that might be johnny. his once cocky demeanor is now down the drain as he fights for his life to not cum with every second of friction. you were just so good, he's already pussydrunk. he seems to be living in his own heaven when he lazily peppers kisses and licks all around your back, neck, and shoulders, breathy whimpers and moans warming your skin up nicely.

his thrusts grow increasingly sloppy as he completely loses himself against you. his eyes are swapping between you and him in the mirror as he admires your wetness dripping down your thighs and splattering against his own front. he would be mad you were ruining his nice clothes, but he's just going to buy another suit with you anyway.

"you wanna cum on me, doll?" he huffs into your ear, letting go of his fear of the slapping noise and now progressively slamming into you harder and harder. "let me feel it, baby, i'm real close."

johnny's arms readjust, one snaking under your armpit and over your shoulder, and the other rhythmically swirling circles against your clit. what once was hungry groans is now turning into needy whimpers from the both of you as you cum simultaneously. your lower half feels warm as he cums deep inside of you, watching it drip and splatter out with every finishing thrust. your vision becomes tunneled as you see stars, head thrown back as each throb from the orgasm makes you forget you're in public entirely.

he holds you both there for a moment, breathing in your damp skin. you both feel dazed, but incredibly satisfied. johnny kisses your cheek from behind, dancing his way to the corner of your mouth and then captures your lips in a messy, brief kiss.

"you know i didn't need a dress to want you that bad, right?" johnny asks against your lips, his fingers brushing against your bare thighs. "i really do think you're beautiful. always have."

you nod, taking in a quick inhale of breath to gather yourself. "i wasn't sure before."

"well, i hope you are now," johnny chuckles, and kisses you again. "at least, i hope so - hey, hey -" the embrace stops as he steps back and notices his semen dripping down your leg. "don't get that on the carpet. and definitely don't get that on the dress. we're buying that one for the red carpet-" he checks his watch. "-that we're late to. shit."

he doesn't really regret it.

[bobathirstaccount]

Fated Ch 3

Give Boba Them Digits

“Sure,” you heard yourself answering. You grabbed a napkin from behind the bar and quickly scribbled down your number. Pushing it over to Boba on the slick bar top, you felt his had drop away from your knee. You wished it was still there. But, he used it to pick up your napkin and carefully stuff it in a pocket.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your drink, tonight…” Boba stood, slightly getting into your personal space. Swooning, you nodded, “Thanks… comm me.” You felt hot and silly for asking, but you immediately liked him.

Nodding, he wordlessly departed. Swirling your drink, you decided to finish it in a few gulps so you could go home.

***

The rest of the week passed. Finally, it was the last day of work for the week. Feeling perky and looking forward to sleeping in, you headed to your favorite spot. You nearly skipped all the way there.

After ordering your favorite drink, you slid into a booth at the back of the cantina. Pulling out your data pad, you started to play a little game and sip your beverage. Hours passed.

Feeling good, you left the cantina. It was a nice night, so you took the long way home through the small community park.

You felt your data pad vibrate in your pocket. Curious, you pulled it out and checked your notifs. It was an unknown contact. You raised an eyebrow. Clicking into the conversation, you read:

-Hi there. It’s Boba. You up?

Smiling, you tried to think of a snappy reply. You had been thinking about him in the back of your mind all week.

-hey zaddy. yeah…

You wondered if the use of the word ‘zaddy’ was too much. Before you could feel too self conscious about it, he messaged back.

-You wanna see stars?

Furrowing your brow, you turned left as you exited the park. Continuing your way home, you replied:

-like how?

-Like, I have a ship… we could orbit the planet and have a snack

You smiled.

-ok

-Meet me at the hangar near your cantina; bay 3

A minute from home, you turned around and headed back to the cantina.

-what’re you gonna feed me?

-It’s a surprise…

Intrigued, you decided no more questions. You put your data pad in your pocket and picked up the pace.

****

“Nice to see you again,” Boba was waiting outside his ship for you.

You smiled and walked over to him. He hugged you lightly, pulling you in a little Too Close for just a second. Feeling giddy, you tried not to show your nerves.

“Shall we?” He looped your arm through his and led you aboard.

Once inside, he gave you a quick tour of his tidy ship. It ended in the cockpit.

“Okay, sit here… we’ll go find the prettiest of the moons for a nice view first.”

”Oh… some moons are prettier than others?” You teased.

“Yeah, like how you’re prettier than others,” he purred smoothly.

Feeling hot and bothered, you tried to play it cool. “Look at you, zaddy, trying to flatter me…”

“Is it working?”

You shrugged, “Well… yeah…”

He laughed softly. “Still got it.”

You smiled at his lightheartedness. You watched as the ship took off and flew into the night.

“So you take a lot of girls up here to impress them?” You teased lightly, getting comfortable in your seat.

“Only the ones I really like. So, no.” He flipped a few switches.

Feeling hot and bothered, you offered, “I usually don’t let strange men take me off world…”

“It’d be super unsafe if you did,” he said, taking you out of orbit and in search of his favorite moon.

You laughed a little sheepishly. “Well. I wanted a snack,” you counted after a moment.

“I knew food would be a good incentive.” He seemed genuinely pleased.

Relaxing again, you teased, “Every girl’s weakness. Snackies.”

***

After locating his favorite moon and putting the ship in orbit, Boba led you to the passenger area. It had a nice sized window that offered a good view of the moon and a few more behind it. It was a nice looking moon, you thought.

Then you noticed a little blanket on the floor. On it was a little box and two cushions. “Picnic!” You exclaimed, delighted.

The two of you seated yourselves on the comfy pillows. Boba offered you the box. You found inside a small bottle of expensive wine, and… you gasped. It couldn’t be?

”How’d you know this is my favorite?” You looked up at him, shocked.

“Oh, I might’ve chatted your drunk coworker up at that party, and drawn it out of them. Also, bribery helped.”

You laughed. “Who?”

“I’ll never reveal my source,” he said, mock serious.

“Hm… so long as you keep coming up with things I like I guess I won’t be creeped out,” You reached into the box and pulled the food out as Boba laughed. You found two glasses under the bottle. You let Boba open the wine up as you carefully set up two servings of your favorite snack. The two of you dug in and chatted about local politics and rumors. He seemed to know a lot of them.

Some time later, you realized you were wine drunk. Oops. You confessed to Boba.

”That’s okay, I’ll escort you home.” He casually swirled his wine.

Smiling, you scooted a little closer to him. “How gentlemanly of you,” you lightly slurred your words.

He smiled at you, “You are drunk; to be calling me a gentleman? I’m pretty sure I fall under the ‘scoundrel’ category.”

You giggled, “How come?”

“Oh… just ‘cause.” He shrugged mysteriously.

“Okay,” you slurred again, “You’re a scoundrel then… and you know what scoundrels do?”

”What?” Boba tilted his head curiously.

You lurched forward and kissed him hard on the lips. He grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. You pulled away to coo, “Scoundrels deeefffintely make out on the first date.”

”Is that so?” He laughed softly, but kissed you again. You deepened the kiss, readjusting in his arms so you could wrap yours around his neck. Giddy, you started to pull your top off.
“Wait,” Boba grabbed your wrists. “You sure you’re sober enough for this?”

You shrugged and let go of your shirt. Suddenly you weren’t sure. He pulled you down so you were entangled in each other’s limbs. Kissing you softly, he said, “Another time.” You sighed lustfully and kissed him back. He groaned softly. “You’re making this really difficult, you know.”

Flattered, you giggled and smooshed yourself into him. He held you snugly as you relaxed into his body. He started talking, but you were so relaxed, and maybe a little sleepy…

You woke to a gentle shaking. “Time to get up, cyarika.”

”What?” You opened one eye. Boba was looking down at you, expression very soft. “Omigosh, did I fall asleep?” You were embarrassed.

“Yeah… it was really nice.” But I felt like I should get you back home, so we’re landed now. “Let me walk you home, mesh’la.” He helped you to your feet. Grabbing your jacket, he held it out for you to slip your arms into. “See, what a gentleman,” you commented lightly, winking at him before you turned around to get your arms in.

“Well. Maybe sometimes.” He slipped an arm around your waist. “Shall we?”

***

Secretly, you took the long way home. You thought the park would be a nice walk for the two of you. Chatting easily, you were at your front door before you knew it.

“Until next time?” He asked.

“Yes,” you hugged him for a moment too long. Finally letting go, you said, “I’ll allow you to call on me again.”

He grinned, “I’m thankful.” Rubbing your lower back momentarily, he added, “You look really good right now. I mean it.” Then he was off, down the stairs before you could think of anything to say. Going inside, you went to the mirror. You definitely looked like you’d just taken a hard nap. Smiling softly, you thought it was sweet he would say that, even though you looked like crap. Smiling, you took your jacket off. Dropping it onto a nearby chair, you fell into bed.

***

Hours later, you woke. After a quick shower, you ate what you generously termed brunch. It was in fact almost noon.

You wondered if Boba was still at the hangar. Would it be weird to show up there? So what? You could just see if he was doing anything…

Or did you play it cool and let him reach out to you?

***


[kassandras-one-braincell]

Eivor x Fem!Reader - Ink Me Up

Oh, what to do when the Norwegian woman tattooing your thigh is insanely attractive, clearly gay, with a criminally good bedside manner?

Warning: about tattooing and obviously needles.

Word count: 4363

Can be found on AO3 here.

Heavily inspired by this post here. The tattoo itself is purely self-indulgent. Eivor is stupidly attractive and it's not fair. (Y/N) replacer safe.

After months of saving and deliberation, the time had come. For the longest time you had dreamed of getting something big, bold and beautiful permanently inked into your skin. Something meaningful. And you wanted someone talented to tattoo it.

Thus, you found yourself scouring the web for reputable tattoo shops, hours upon hours poured into searching artists’ portfolios, hoping that someone was skilled enough at black-and-grey realism within a relatively close radius. If you were going to pay a hefty sum for a tattoo, you wanted it to be perfect. Your desktop was flooded with reference images of sword lilies – the subject of your desired ink – and about a dozen different parlours, tabs whittling down one by one during your search.

The final tab was the website for a slightly pricier shop, but one of the artist’s Instagrams utterly captivated you. Their artwork was extraordinary, the details in their pieces stunning and intricate; you decided investing a little extra cash would be worth it. Eivor Varinsdóttir, handle @wolfkissed_ink. Grinning, you emailed the artist, requesting a consultation.

You explained to the artist during that consultation that you wanted a composition of black-and-grey realistic gladioli on your left thigh. Sword lilies represented strength, after all, and you wanted to commemorate overcoming a difficult part of your life with something gorgeous and symbolic. That and, well, flowers were pretty. Within the week they had responded with a sketch that was beyond what you could have possibly thought up yourself: two stunning, bloomed sprigs of the flower with petals floating either side, lifelike as a monochrome photograph. Smiling ear-to-ear, you booked up your first appointment.

Unbridled excitement led to the time before your appointment soaring by, with you opening up the file of the sketch almost every day. Bringing us to the present: you stood anxiously outside the parlour door, 12:50pm, ten minutes before your scheduled appointment. Sucking in a shaky breath, nerves both good and bad, you stepped inside.

The tattoo shop was sleek, modern and decked wall-to-wall with flash sheets, the small designs varying in style, colour and detail. Everything was spotless, as one would expect, with shining awards dotted about. Just seeing the various trophies did well to quell some of your anxieties, knowing you were in good hands, that you’d end up with a lovely piece on your thigh. A stout man covered neck to foot in swirling Japanese designs manned the front desk, smiling warmly at you, obliterating any stigmas you had heard from older relatives about tattoo culture.

Biting your lip, you made your way to the desk, mustering a nervous smile. As thrilled as you were about getting the tattoo, the whole pain aspect was still rather daunting. “Hey, one o’clock appointment for (Y/N) (L/N)?” You fidgeted with the hem of your shorts while the gentleman checked his desktop.

“With Eivor, right?” he verified. You nodded.

“Sorry I’m a little early—”

“No, not at all! Rather you be early than late,” he chuckled, clearly sensing your worries. His eyes flickered across a clipboard. “She’s not with a client at the moment, so I’ll send you through now, if that’s alright.”

“Sounds good, thank you,” you bade, pulse quickening. Come on, you’ve wanted this for so long, you can’t pussy out now.

The guy asked you to wait by the desk as he ventured down a long corridor, the black paint giving off an ominous vibe that did nothing for your nerves. A few seconds later, he returned, cocking his head for you to follow. Your knuckles were white from gripping the strap of your purse so tightly.

He led you to the room at the end of the hall, holding the glossy black door open for you. “Go easy on her, Eivor, it’s clearly her first,” he called out, flashing you a wink, before letting the door close behind you.

Holy shit.

She was hot.

Eivor was nothing short of a modern day viking. Tall, rippling with muscle, late twenties to early thirties, blond hair strewn into an unruly braid with a strip on the right shaved clean to the flesh, revealing a fucking skull tattoo of a bird…a raven? Her face was stupidly handsome, eyes blue and icy but warm with greeting, a long and gnarly scar cutting into the flesh of her left cheek with a smaller nick protruding from her upper lip. Hell, the nape of her neck was marred with an even more vicious looking scar. She wore a tight black t-shirt that strained around her deliciously grizzled arms, which were adorned with Norse-looking runes and text curving into circles, ink that carried on to her hands and neck. The smile she offered you made you weak in the knees.

“(Y/N), right? I’m Eivor, a pleasure to meet you,” she greeted, voice deep and gravelly, decorated with a rasp that to you sounded like butter. Fuck me, she’s a tall, tall glass of water.

You shook her hand when she extended it to you, marvelling at the patterns and blacked-out bands on her long, thick fingers. Her nails were cut extremely short, confirming the strong lesbian vibe she gave off. “Likewise,” you squeaked, cursing yourself for acting like some bloody schoolgirl.

She sauntered over to her setup, weight carried in her shoulders, consolidating her already intimidatingly attractive butch energy, sanitised her hands and pulled on a clean pair of gloves. “Come on over,” she said, grabbing a disposable razor from a box. “I’ll just need to make sure the area is shaven, if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” you replied, joining her by the leather chair, covered by a sheet of cellophane. It was a relief to see all the hygiene precautions taken in the shop. Eivor picked up a disinfectant wipe.

“Left thigh, if I remember correctly?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

She dropped to one knee – wasn’t that a fucking sight – and wiped down the expanse of your thigh before gliding the razor over the flesh.

Hesitantly, you asked her what the general procedure was, desperately trying to divert your thoughts from the sapphic spiral they were travelling down.

“Alright, after I’ve finished here I’ll apply the stencil. You’ll get to check if you like the placement, and if you don’t I’ll keep going until you’re happy with it. It’s a big piece, so we’ll have to split this up into two sessions, as we discussed alongside payment.” She brushed away the loose hairs and peach fuzz. “I’ll do the linework this session, and the shading next time.” With one final pass of the razor she pulled back, tossing it into a bin.

Eivor then picked up a sheet of thin paper with the sketch printed on it. She plucked a purple pen from her table. “Give me a few minutes to trace the stencil, then we’ll apply it and see how you like it.” You nodded, trying to focus on your breathing.

While she traced over each line of the sketch, she kindly attempted to soothe your fears with small talk. “I’ll admit, I’ve never heard of a ‘gladiolus’ before our consultation. Any reason why you chose it?”

You smiled. “They represent strength. I finally got through a rough spell and wanted something to celebrate with,” you explained, heart skipping a beat at the soft expression on the artist’s face.

“All the more reason to get this perfect then,” she said with a grin. The way the scar on her upper lip quirked was positively adorable. A couple minutes passed and she re-capped the pen. “Stand up straight for me, darling.” Oh.

Cheeks burning with bashfulness, you complied. Eivor took a second to angle the stencil before smoothing it over your thigh, leaving a purple outline once she removed the paper. “Just have a look in that mirror over there and tell me if you’re happy, okay?”

You walked over to the mirror and stared at your thigh. The tattoo was large – which you expected, with the amount of detail in it – and perfectly central, the loose petals appearing to float down the length of your thigh. “Perfect,” you breathed out, giving the woman a thumbs-up.

Eivor switched over her gloves and gestured for you to take a seat on the chair. “Get comfy, then. Do you have water?” Nodding, you took out your water bottle from your handbag. “Brilliant. Still want to do this?”

“Hell yeah.” Weirdly, the nerves about the pain (not about the sexy artist) had almost wholly subsided, leaving you brimming with anticipation.

She poured some jet black ink into small caps, no larger than the tip of your thumb. “Remember to breathe through it and hold still, yeah? You picked a smart place for your first tattoo, not too close to the bone.”

“I’ll try.” Eivor opened a sealed packet containing a new, sterilised needle, inserting it into her tattoo machine. She switched it on, the buzz of the machine’s piston filling the room with a gentle hum. Looking up at you, she cocked her brow – if only your gay thoughts could bugger off for two minutes – as if to ask, ready? Affirmatively, you beamed at her.

Dipping the needle into the ink, she pulled the skin of your thigh taut. Immediately, you noted the warmth of her hand on your leg, fighting off a shudder. Then came a mildly painful scratching sensation as she brought the machine to your thigh.

Honestly? It wasn’t bad. Irritating, like an itchy eye, but not drastically unpleasant. You followed Eivor’s advice, keeping your breathing steady, averting your attention to the artwork on the walls, some of which you had seen on her Instagram portfolio. Portraits, flowers, animals, realistic-looking jewellery…the woman had mastered black-and-grey. You knew you picked the right artist. The frown of concentration on her face spoke volumes about her dedication to the art, steeled and intently focused on the lines she was pulling.

When she wiped the area and reached for more ink, she glanced up at your face. “All good?” she asked.

“Yeah, no issues here.”

“Wonderful.” She set back to work, positioning her needle over the flower’s curved stem, dragging it downwards in a slow arc. “Your skin takes ink like butter, by the way.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you breathed out. Her hand suddenly felt a little warmer. Tell me this woman does audiobooks, you thought.

After a few more lines, you tried to pepper in some small talk without breaking her concentration. Fortunately, her bedside manner was immaculate, and she entertained your questions without any grudges.

“Your voice is really soothing. Where abouts are you from?”

“Oh, thank you. I’m from Norway, moved here a few years back.” She grinned at the compliment. “It’s funny, people usually say the opposite about my voice.” You wondered if they were deaf.

“It’s a nice rasp,” you chuckled. Buzzing stopped, more ink.

“I was bitten by a wolf when I was nine,” she explained. Buzzing recommenced, scratching returned. “My larynx never properly healed from it, so I’ve sounded like some chain-smoker since before I hit double-digits, despite never touching a cigarette in my life.”

“You don’t sound like a chain-smoker, though. I mean it.”

Her grin widened. “That actually means a lot.”

An hour passed by, most of it spent in comfortable silence, with Eivor checking in on you occasionally to see how you were coping. Certain patches of nerves stung a little more than others, but none of it was unbearable. That was until her machine passed over a particularly rough area. It fucking killed, the burn of the needle seemingly deeper than anywhere else, the sting infinitely more intense than before. You hissed, gritting your teeth together.

“Ow,” you winced, clutching onto your water bottle in an attempt to relieve the pain, to no avail.

Eivor continued pulling her line, her rasp coming out in a low mantra. “Just breathe through it, nice and slow…” You tried to follow, attempting in vain to relax your shoulders. “Keep holding still for me…” Your breaths came shallow but steadily so, the stinging slowly becoming more endurable. The machine reached the end of the line. “Good girl,” she muttered, blissfully of absent mind.

Good girl.

Oh fuck.

Just when your clearly gay tattoo artist couldn’t get any hotter, she comes out with some hot-girl bullshit like that. And fuck, you didn’t think you had a praise kink before, but now this certainly awakened something. Why, why did it have to sound so good in her husky voice? No, you were absolutely not going to fantasise about your artist, not when her hands were on your skin, on your thigh of all fucking places. God, this stupidly attractive Norwegian butch was making you uncomfortably hot.

When she finally pulled away, sweet bloody reprieve, you took a sip of your water. “That wasn’t fun,” you remarked.

“Took it like a champion, though,” she beamed proudly, clearly unaware of the affect her words had just had on you. “Need a break?”

“Just a minute or two, thank you,” you sighed with relief. Eivor wiped you down and analysed her work.

“We’re just over halfway there,” she commented. Only halfway? Fuck. You allowed your eyes to wander over the black lines, all perfectly smooth from practiced precision. Yeah, this woman was talented.

“I mean, that killed, and that was my thigh…” you trailed off, making her laugh. “What was the most painful tattoo you’ve gotten?”

Eivor answered without hesitation. “My head, without a doubt. Packing solid black into that thing was agony. My fingers killed, too, but all completely worth it.” You couldn’t help but agree with that last part. Her hands looked extremely good, both with and without those gloves.

“I’m guessing places with more nerve endings and by the bone are the worst, then?”

“Definitely. The palm of the hand is the most sensitive, and it’s tough to get right. Ink bleeds, skin bleeds…and if you don’t do it well it’ll just fade. All that pain for nought.”

You gulped down some more water. Ouch. “Duly noted.”

After ninety odd more minutes, Eivor switched off her machine for good, the linework finished and utterly flawless. “All done for this session,” she announced, changing gloves once more to clean and wrap the area. There was minimal irritation around each line, and the wipe felt wonderfully cool against the reddening flesh.

Once she finished placing various equipment in a tub labelled ‘autoclave’, she escorted you to the front desk. You paid half the decided fee of the tattoo and booked your second session for three weeks’ time. Eivor gave you an aftercare kit, explaining in detail how to keep the tattoo clean, how to prevent infection, and to avoid direct exposure to sunlight as much as you could. Eagerly, you listened, trying to drink in as much of her voice as possible before departing.

“I’ll see you in three weeks, then. Take care, (Y/N),” she grinned. From the moment you stepped out of the shop, you knew that grin would be engraved into your mind for the weeks to come.

  The second appointment couldn’t have come quickly enough.

You spent an embarrassing quantity of time thinking about your dreamy tattoo artist, right up until the day you walked back into the shop, this time free of any concerns pertaining to the tattoo. The gentleman from before recognised you and asked how the tattoo was holding up, if you’d had any issues keeping it clean, to which you replied all was good. Only this time, Eivor came to greet you by the front desk.

“How’s it going?” she asked, welcoming as before.

“Really good. I just hope I’ve been doing everything right,” you chuckled, anxiously glancing down at your thigh. The redness had completely disappeared a few days after your first appointment, the black ink proudly meandering over your skin.

Eivor smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, you’d know if you haven’t. From here it looks like you’ve done a fantastic job of keeping it clean, anyway.” You followed her to her studio, mentally noting how she was wearing an even tighter black t-shirt than last time, the fabric clinging to the defined contours of her muscled back, biceps, abs… Needless to say, the gay thoughts had returned at full-force.

As before, she shaved and disinfected your thigh, but instead of a stencil she had the full greyscale reference images for the design printed and taped to a metal beam above her table. She took careful time in diluting various caps of black ink into a plethora of greys, experience shining through as she added precise amounts of diluter to each cap. There was something addictive about watching the woman work, with how methodical she was, how delicately she handled the bottles of ink.

When she unpacked a needle, you noted the shape was different to before. “Now, some parts are gonna be only a little rougher than before. Others will suck, I’ll warn you now,” she mentioned as you positioned yourself on the chair.

“Mama didn’t raise a bitch,” you joked. Eivor laughed.

“You handled it like a trooper before. I have zero doubts you’ll do the same today.”

And so she began, making multiple passes with the machine unlike before, packing in the different shades of grey in front of her, scratching into the already broken skin. It wasn’t massively painful, but Eivor was right – last time was a breeze in comparison. You rested your eyes and bore the pain, focusing on the faint music playing from the shop’s reception.

As previously, she was ever considerate, checking up on you as she worked – albeit not as frequently, now that you were accustomed to the needles – and encouraging you through the nastier patches. You tried your hardest to not look at your thigh, wanting the final result to be a surprise, but over time it grew increasingly difficult not to sneak a glance at her hands. Merely the thought of them flustered you (pathetic, you knew) and nothing would be more embarrassing than drifting off into a less than appropriate fantasy about the woman when she was simply being professional.

Time blurred together amongst your inner dilemma – to look or not to look – until Eivor’s signature rasp caught your attention. “Time for your least favourite part,” she said, giving you a knowing look, positioning her needle in one of the petals over the area that hurt like a bitch previously.

“Oh god, I forgot about that area.”

“Just own the pain and keep still, alright?”

“I’ll try.”

Eivor smirked: a wicked thing that could have killed every sapphic in a mile radius. “Squirm and I’ll pin you down. I’ve had to do it before, and I’ll do it again.”

That, under different circumstances, would be an appealing notion.

Closing your eyes once more, you tried to decipher the song lyrics resonating through the shop’s hall, grimacing when the needle penetrated the skin. Just focus on Rihanna, focus on Rihanna…

“That’s…not so bad, actually,” you mutter, not entirely self-assured of the words leaving your lips, hoping some placebo affect would take place.

Eivor chuckled, dipping into another shade. “You sound convincing,” she drawled.

“I’m – ow – serious… Okay fuck, that’s way worse.”

“Shh, it’ll be over soon. Find something to focus on.”

So you did, on what happened to be the first thing in your immediate line of sight when you re-opened your eyes: Eivor’s bicep. God, her shirt strained around the muscle, black fabric against tanned skin and the deep green runes littering her arm. Perhaps the ink had something to do with her ancestry, given that the woman said she was Norwegian – that or she was just a mythology nerd. Your eyes trailed over the spirals of script, the perfectly concentric circles. Mind wandering, the idea that she may have tattoos on her back and front piqued your interest. Then came the delightful image of Eivor without a shirt. Pinning you down. Fuck.

Before long the pain subsided, leaving a dull ache where the needle had worked at your skin. “All done, darling,” Eivor murmured, wiping the patch. Darling. You knew it was simply her bedside manner, trying to keep you as relaxed as possible, but damn was it having the polar opposite effect. Cheeks feeling impossibly hot, you unscrewed the cap of your bottle and took a sizeable gulp of water. She gave you a moment to breathe, now that the most difficult part was out of the way. Still flustered, you drained half your bottle.

Concern plastered on her face, Eivor leaned closer, inspecting your face intently. “Are you feeling faint?” she asked, evidently worried. “It’s important you tell me if you are—”

“No, no, I’m fine, really.” You were stuttering, annoyed with yourself that you made her worry. “Just being weird. I promise.”

“You do?” Her eyebrows were still upturned, not entirely believing you.

You nodded frantically. “Yeah, really. Please don’t worry.”

Taking a slow breath, she restarted the machine, relief flashing across her features. She gestured for permission to continue tattooing, which you granted, and set back to work.

Cursing internally, you let your eyes flutter shut, thoughts full of nothing but ‘good girls’ and ‘darlings’ in a husky Norwegian accent. Numbing yourself to the needles, you drifted off into slumber.

  “Hey, (Y/N)?”

A gentle pressure squeezed at your hand, slowly stirring you, bringing you back to the world of the living. Yawning, you opened your eyes, gaze brought to a gloved hand atop your own.

“Good evening,” Eivor said, retracting her hand and watching as you gasped and scanned the studio for a clock in a panic. Evening?

“Kidding,” she laughed. “I finished up ten minutes ago.” You shot her a half-hearted glare through sleepy eyelids.

“That was mean,” you pouted. She grinned.

“I do stab people for a living.”

Snorting, you swung your legs over the side of the chair, stretching them to regain a semblance of sensation. Chest pounding with excitement, you looked to the mirror at the side of the room, then at Eivor, silently asking permission to peak at the finished tattoo. She held out her hand in gesticulation.

Giddy with anticipation, you walked over and… Holy shit.

It was beautiful.

Each shade of grey blended into one another in a perfect harmony, so seamlessly that the black outline from before was barely visible. The shadows underneath each leaf, each petal looked real. Every speckle and wrinkle on the petals shone through, love and attention going into every marking. The falling petals were akin to a photograph, with the light grey background wash tying them to the main flowers, each little shadow appearing to give them different depths. It was beyond anything you imagined. All that pain, mental and physical, turned into a lifetime of beauty.

You didn’t realise you were crying until the salt of tears rolled into your awe-parted mouth.

“I’m, well… Wow.” Beaming, you turned to face your artist, who looked at her artwork with pride. “Thank you, Eivor. Thank you so much.”

She shook her head and offered you a box of tissues, from which you took one gladly. “I’m just honoured to have helped you lay that chapter of your life to rest. May the sword-lilies battle any shreds of it that remain.”

Stunned by her poetic inclination, you dried your eyes in silence, lips curved into a joyous smile. Meanwhile, she removed her gloves.

“You have tissues at the ready. I’m guessing people cry a lot here?” you asked, finally prying your eyes away from the masterpiece on your thigh.

“Mostly from the pain,” she remarked.

“You know, you could just lie to me so I don’t feel like such a fucking sap.”

The sound that left Eivor’s mouth in response was nothing if not angelic. She practically howled in hearty laughter, echoing through her studio, her eyes crinkling at the corners. You didn’t think it possible for your grin to widen further still, but her outburst was contagious in the best way.

“I’m glad you’re happy with it. Truly,” she breathed out, chest stilling from her fit.

“It’s beautiful. Happy is an understatement.”

Eivor made her way over to the desk in the corner of the studio, where a graphics tablet lay alongside a stylus. “Now, before I dress it, I’m legally required to ask you if I have permission to photograph the tattoo for advertisement purposes. I appreciate it’s a personal subject matter and completely understand if—”

“Go for it,” you shrugged.

“Are you certain?” You nodded.

“Of course. It’s a work of art.” The smile she gave you was genuine.

“This’ll only take a minute. Thank you, really.”

She knelt down and snapped a picture with the tablet, checking the quality. “All done.” Eivor then proceeded to sanitise her hands and slip on one last pair of gloves, grabbing the wipes and plastic wrap from her station. “The photo will be uploaded to the shop’s website and my professional Instagram, if that’s alright with you. Completely anonymous, of course.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Although, it’ll be weird seeing my leg on my feed.” She chuckled.

“Feel free to email or DM if you have any concerns with the healing.” Patting your leg, she stood up to her full height, placing her gloves in a biohazard ziplock. “Well, I’m honoured to have given you your first tattoo.”

“Honoured to be your…canvas?”

And just like that, your time with the artist was up. You watched wistfully as she put together an aftercare pack at the front desk, your previously overjoyed expression drifting into a sad one. After paying, you thanked her one final time.

“Take care, søta,” she said with a wink.

The very moment you arrived back home, you whipped out a Norwegian-to-English translator and immediately tried to replicate her pronunciation of the word she called you, blushing profusely when discovering it meant ‘cutie’. And upon opening your cleaning pack, you found an addition that wasn’t present in your previous bundle:

A small slip of paper. On one side, a mobile number. On the other, in beautifully neat cursive,

I’d love to take you to dinner. Text me if you’re interested?

Yours, Eivor

[joaquinwhorres]

Stitches & Blankets (Joaquin Torres x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› You find Joaquin Torres after he tries to stop the bank robbery.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› OK, why are there not more Torres fics? I'm legitimately confused about that. Also, I realized after writing half of this down, that a bank was robbed, so there were probably still police on the scene and the reader'd probably be speaking Swiss-German but uh...fan fiction.

There was a body in the street, which was not what you expected to see coming out to your car.

You'd heard the wailing sirens and shouting and the thunderous footsteps--they're what kept you pressed against the side of the building for the past ten minutes, avoiding the chaos as much as possible. It wasn't fear that kept you there though, it was experience. You'd become used to the quick riots and little skirmishes for resources over the past few months. You knew it was better to stay out of the way, wait out the storm, and then go about your life. They became nothing more than minor nuisances. Bits of unrest that were there and then gone in the next instance. They weren't supposed to leave a body behind.

"Meine Fresse," you murmured, racing forward to the person lying supine on the stones, arms out to their sides, the white of their sneakers reflecting the street lights. As you drew closer, you saw it was a man--about your age with blood around his eye and nose and lip. For a brief second, you wondered if he'd been trampled, but he definitely would have looked worse for wear based on how many people you'd heard.

"Bist du okay?" Your voice was loud as you checked over the rest of his body. He didn't seem to have any other injury, and there wasn't any blood under his head, so you decided it was safe enough to gently shake him.

He didn't rouse.

So, instead you knelt your ear down to his lips, laying your hand flat on his chest. You felt your hand rise before you heard the slow intake of breath, and you rocked back onto your knees. He was breathing. He was alive.

Still, something gnawed at the back of your mind, urging your fingers up under his jaw, gently pressing into his neck. It was only then that you felt a surge of relief. His pulse was there, and it was strong. He was really alive.

And then you remembered that you should probably call 112.

All things considered, it was a quick phone call--the operator seemed to know your exact location and vaguely what had happened as you explained where you were and how you found him. Instead, most of the conversation was spent listening to their instructions to roll him into a recovery position and check for any signs of life-threatening injuries. When they told you that you could hang up because they were close, you did so and found the man blinking at you.

"Hoi," you greeted soothingly. "Wie heisst du?"

He groaned, attempting to roll onto his back once more. You reached out a hand stopping him, and he looked up at you confused.

"Comment t'appelles tu?" You attempted, hoping he wasn't an Italian or Romansch speaker. You hardly knew enough of either language to tell him you couldn't speak it.

He winced and lifted his hand to his face. "Shit."

English. Good.

"What's your name?" you asked, and his eyes seemed to focus on you once more, this time a spark of recognition or maybe just awareness lighting up behind them.

"Joaquin," he informed, and you released an arm, allowing him to finally roll onto his back like he wanted. He had a strong American accent, even through the gravelly voice of barely regained consciousness. "Did they get away?"

"Ähm," you looked around at the empty street. "Yes?" you guessed.

He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm gonna have to call some people."

"I think you should wait for the ambulance."

"Yeah," he agreed, the word breathy and pained. "That's probably a good idea."

"What happened?" you asked, and he raised his eyebrows, looking back at you.

"Flag Smashers."

"I didn't think the Flag Smashers hurt people."

"I'm just lucky, I guess," he answered, and you smiled, letting out a small laugh. He offered a small smile as well.

You could hear the siren now, the faint sound winding its way through the curving streets of Zürich and towards the two of you. Your head turned towards the sound, as if you could trace it back to the ambulance, and gauging the distance. "They should be close," you said, returning your attention to Joaquin.

"What's your name?" he asked, and the question surprised you. Then again, if the two of you were stuck waiting for an ambulance at nine o'clock on a Sunday night, maybe a bit of small talk shouldn't have been so surprising.

"Y/N," you answered, and he repeated it.

"You're very pretty, Y/N."

The laugh escaped you on instinct, although to call it a laugh might not be the best descriptor. It was more of a surprised noise, partially exhale and a tinge of amusement added through the slight smile at the corner of your mouth.

"Thank you," you said. "You are very pretty too."

And he was, underneath the dark red and rapidly purpling injuries. He had a strong jaw and kind eyes, and even the hint of a smile he'd given earlier had made something in your chest constrict.

"I don't feel so pretty," he responded, and this time your laugh was more of a laugh, and he reached up to feel at his face. You took hold of his hand, bringing it back down and trapping it in yours.

"Pretty enough for me to hold your hand," you joked, hoping to distract him from continuing to poke and prod and break all of the rules and instructions the EMTs had given over the phone.

"Well, I got that goin' for me, I guess," he said, letting his hand relax into yours.

Headlights bathed you in a warm yellow light as flashing blue lights bounced off the surrounding buildings, illuminating the rest of the street.

There were some shouts as the doors of the ambulance opened and people poured out, running towards you and Torres. The paramedic crowded around quickly, a blonde bearded man asking  quick questions in German.

"Er spricht Englisch," you explained, and he nodded, switching languages.

It became apparent as police officers pulled up and flooded out of their cars that you were no longer needed. You stood up, backing away and letting Joaquin's hand slip through yours.

"You're not going to stay and hold my hand?" Joaquin called out to you, and you let a smile curl across your lips. Around you, people were starting to come out onto the street, lured by the sounds of the sirens and lack of shouting and general ruckus. Your eyes fell back on Joaquin who was still looking up at you, even as a paramedic flashed a light into his face.

"Maybe he can hold your hand," you said, gesturing to a paramedic who had slid into your place. Joaquin gave half a smile as you turned and left him in the hands of the professionals.

As you rounded the corner, arms full of blankets, the last person you expected to almost run into was Joaquin.

Part of the surprise was the kind that generally accompanied running into someone outside of the context you know them in. A larger part of the surprise was the fact that he was not in the hospital.

Instead, he stood before you, face swollen, bloodied and bruised, with the small white bandages of butterfly stitches above his right eye. He blinked at you, as if he was caught in the headlights.

"Pretty Joaquin," you said, surprise ringing through every part of your voice.

"Y/N."

At least his memory wasn't affected by whatever the Flag Smashers had done to him. His response time was also quicker than it had been two and a half hours ago, and he seemed all in all more present and less hazy. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here." Your own surprise and mild confusion had not quite worn off. "What are you doing here?"

For a variety of reasons, he was not the typical person who stumbled into the Zürich GRC Refugee Camp. He was both too young and too old and far more put together than a normal incomer. He didn't have that haunted look behind his eyes that made your heart wrench. He looked battered and bruised but ok.

"I need a place to stay."

Your eyes ran over his form, from his fluffy dark hair and banged up face to his bright white trainers. You lifted an eyebrow. "The hospital wouldn't take you?"

He shook his head with a sheepish grin. "It's just a broken orbital. Not much else they can do for it." Your eyebrows didn't lower and he gave half a laugh. "Trust me I'm as shocked as you are."

"I'll need you to fill out some paperwork."

He winced. "Any way that could wait until tomorrow? My head is killing me."

You stared intently at his face. Over the past four months of working at the GRC camp, you'd gotten good at reading people. You had an eye for knowing who was going to be trouble down the line and who would need some extra comfort and care. You knew who to push about their stories, and who to wait for--to be there as they slowly unraveled their tale.

So while there was a lot about pretty boy Joaquin that just didn't add up, you could see in his eyes that he could be trusted to stay the night. Just not here.

"You can't stay here without going through intake," you shook your head. "But if you really need a place to sleep, you can come with me."

"Really?" Joaquin asked, turning to follow you as you set back off towards your car, and you nodded.

"It's nothing special--just my couch. But I've been told it's very comfy."

Joaquin faltered a step, slowing down. "You're sure you want me coming and bloody-ing up your couch? I could just stay here and leave before--"

"I'll put down some papers," you said jokingly in an attempt to cut off the subject of him staying at the camp.

"Ok," he said, his voice distracted before there was a quick shuffle of footsteps and he caught back up with you. "Ok, thanks."

The two of you arrived at your car shortly thereafter, Joaquin moving to sit in the passenger seat as you dumped the blankets in the car. You came around to slip into the driver's seat, quickly backing out of the spot and setting off back home.

"So what's with all the blankets?" he asked, pulling his attention from the streets and buildings and back to you.

"We got a late donation tonight," you answered, flicking on your turn signal. "They needed someone here to help organize the drop off and then our washing machine broke, so I have to take work home with me." You smiled at the joke, but he just nodded, leaving you to wonder if maybe your English was off. The next few moments passed in quiet before you checked over at a traffic light to see if he was still awake. He was, but he looked dazed. Maybe he had been telling the truth about his head. You eyed his injuries which looked even worse in the red light. Like his entire right side of his face had been smashed.

"So what brought you to Switzerland?"

It wasn't the question you wanted to ask. You wanted to ask him what had happened with the Flag Smashers--why had they beaten him up so badly. But you weren't sure you were ready for that answer or if he'd even give it. So you asked a question you didn't care if he lied to you about.

"I was looking for someone," he said, and the light turned green, causing you to turn away and focus on your driving rather than him. Still the sentence seemed to end earlier than his thought as you could feel the weight of more words hovering between you. It was a familiar pressure in your ears and your chest, and you'd long grown accustomed to the discomfort.

Like many, Joaquin didn't give the thought words to escape on.

"A refugee?" you asked, and he wobbled his head.

"Yes and no. She survived the Snap."

"She?" A small feeling like a tight wire cord wound its way around your chest and a  warmth of embarrassment flooded the back of your neck. "Your sister? Your wife?"

"No," he shook his head. "My grandmother."

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him look at you for the first time.

"What's her name?  If she came to the camp I should know her."

"Mariana Torres," he answered, and you ran through the array of faces you'd met. There was a Mariana Böschl , but she was old enough to be his mother, not his grandmother.

You shook your head slowly. "I can check the registry tomorrow, but I don't think she's with us."

"Thanks," Joaquin said, looking back out the window at the passing city. "Were you Blipped?"

"No," you shook your head, pulling into your designated parking spot by your apartment. "I was lucky." The two of you climbed out of the car, and he met you by the trunk, pulling the blankets out before you could reach for them.

"Thank you," you said.  And he gave a small grin.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you."

You gestured with your head up the stairs, heading to your third floor apartment.

Joaquin trailed behind you, arms laden with the blankets, waiting patiently as you stopped and opened the door. "Welcome to my home," you greeted, allowing him to enter before you. Your small apartment was dark, and you flicked on the light so that Joaquin could walk further inside without running into a wall or your table. "You can put the blankets by the couch, I'll wash them tomorrow," you instructed, and he did as you suggested before wandering over to the couch.

"I think I have an extra pillow in the closet," you said.

"Great," he thanked, dropping down onto the couch.

It took a few minutes to find the pillow and put a pillowcase on top of it. By the time you walked back out to the living room, the light was still on, and so were his shoes, but he was passed out. You walked over to the sleeping boy, placing the pillow down next to the couch in case he woke up and pulling the blanket over his body, your eyes once more tracing over his injuries.

You would have to speak to Karli about the violence.

[baby-n-boo]

Pink is not a girl’s color- regressor! Tommy, finally big brother tubbo, cg! Wilbur

Tommy was little. There was no two ways to put it. And, as if it wasn’t obvious enough from the fact he hadn't sworn in a whole ten minutes, His thumb was inserted firmly in his mouth as he gamed one-handedly, a small piece of paper over each of the webcams on his monitors, in case someone saw. He had finished his stream that day in rather a hurry, logging off of the dream SMP almost as soon as the confirmation came through that the stream had ended, already feeling the pull of the headspace on his mind, and knowing he wouldn’t have been able to hide it from his friends should he have fully slipped. But, for now, he was idly wandering around a solo server he had made for himself, trying to remember where he had built his home last time he had been on the server. His chair creaked in protest, as he tried to bring his knees up to his chest, resting his feet on the very edge of the seat, making him jump. It wasn’t that he was easily scared when little, but the fact he had become accustomed to the silence that seemed to surround him when he was small, since nobody ever wanted to talk to him without being mean.  

But it was ok. He could look after himself. He was a big boy, really! Mumbling to himself, around his thumb, he tried to direct his character over to the little hill he could see in the distance, not noticing the river running between himself and said mound, and promptly falling right in. At the sudden change of perspective, Tommy panicked, pulling his hand away from the keyboard like it had burnt him, in the hopes it would be fixed if he stopped. But it didn’t, leaving him arrested in fear, watching as the pretty bubbles went away, and his character started taking damage. He didn’t want the pretty red hearts to go away, they were nice!  

Whining slightly as the last one slipped away, and the death message popped up on screen, shading everything in a dim sort of red, Tommy shoved the mouse away too in frustration, refusing to respawn. He wore a stubborn pout as he spun on his chair to turn his back on the screens, just in time for a knock to sound on his door. Worrying for a moment, he yanked his thumb out, and minimised the tab, not wanting anyone to see, before calling out a “Yeah?” that sounded too loud and brash to be right, even for his normal self.  

Wilbur, poking his head through the door carefully, smiled to see Tommy not doing much, before starting to speak. “I, uh, I saw your stream ended? I was wondering if you wanted to come spend some time with real people now?” he joked, referencing how little time Tommy actually spent socialising. Despite how much he really really wanted to nod yes, and go with him, Tommy shook his head, carefully measuring his voice to reply. “Nah, you’re alright, I have masses of women to talk to.” he tried to joke back, his smile just a little too wide, the usual bravado missing from the tone, though Will shrugged it off, sure that if something was up, Tommy wouldn’t hesitate to complain about it.  

“Well, if you change your mind, don’t forget, Toby and I ’re right downstairs.” He reminded Tommy, with a slightly stern look, before ducking back out the door frame. He tried to nod an affirmation, turning as if to go back to his game, but, as soon as he heard the door click back into place, and the creak of the stairs, he pushed up off his chair, padding over to his bed instead. He wasn’t big enough for gaming, right now, and certainly not to go face his friends. Don’t get him wrong, he was glad they had offered to come over and keep him company while his parents were away for some business trip or other, but it was hard to hide his little space from them when he knew they would be watching his streams, and constantly reminding him to actually care for himself. Especially since it had saved him the embarrassment of his parents hiring some babysitter that never actually did anything, once they found out how old he was.  

Tummy rumbling as he sat down cross-legged amid the rumpled sheets, and pulled his favourite blanket out from under his pillow, Tommy whined, having run out of fruit snacks the previous night when he had been streaming till two in the morning. Normally, it wouldn’t be an issue, him just having to sneak down and grab something from the cupboards under the guise of still streaming, but he knew, as soon as he set foot on the stairs today, his friends would be dragging him into a switch game tournament, or a conversation, or, even worse, a trip to the store. Shuddering at the very thought of going outside, Tommy shook his head. No, going hungry was much better than whatever they had in store for him.  

His PC kept chiming with discord messages, probably from his other streamer friends to wonder why he had ended so fast, but he merely ignored them, balling up under the ratty sky-blue blanket, and trying to get his head to stop being quite so fuzzy. It didn’t help as his thumb crept back into his mouth, brushing against the cold metal of his braces, and he curled tighter, the scratchy material of his jeans starting to irritate him, as he slipped further and further. It was only a matter of time before something bad happened, so, desperately clinging to the last shreds of his adult mind, Tommy stumbled over to his closet, kicking off his jeans and baseball shirt in a frenzy of unstable movement.  

Once he was sure that it was all off, he glanced nervously toward the door, and quickly grabbed a bundle of material, throwing it onto the bed before someone could burst in and see it. Yanking a pair of shorts over his boxers, he quickly scurried back to the comfy area, hiding between the sheets as he fought his way into the other thing, a hoodie that was clearly multiple sizes too big, smelling of a foreign but comforting cologne. He’d picked it up from Wilbur’s bag the first night he had been here, thinking it had been his own, and had been reluctant to give it back upon discovering it, in fact, was not, something about how it made him feel small making it appealing.  

Flipping up the hood, so it fell over his eyes, Tommy giggled, flapping around the oversized sleeves in a childish manner, entertained by even the slightest of things in little space. By this point, his adult mind had entirely slipped away, replaced with the simple, cotton candy thoughts of the child Tommy now was. Confused as to why he was being so boring and lying round in bed all day, he pushed back his coverings with a smile, before gasping, looking around for Henry - his cow plush- in between the all-together too mature sheets. Black circles were just so grown up! Where were the dinosaurs? Or the racing cars!  

Temporarily distracted from his search by the thought of cars, Tommy gasped, running over to his cupboard, where he hid away all his colouring books, dragging out some nice-looking ones, and his big box of Crayola pens, giggling as they rattled noisily. Throwing them to the floor, Tommy lay down on his tummy across his rug, pushing up the too-long sleeves until he could see hs fingers. Wiggling them around, he couldn’t help but beam, it being such a silly movement, especially as they all bunched up to try picking up the slippery box of pens, only for it to bump back down. Kicking contentedly as he tried again, it wasn’t long before it was tipped upside down, the rainbow of colors spreading across the rug in a mess only a child could make, blues bouncing and reds rolling. In fact, every color other than pink.  

Not that Tommy noticed this lack, grabbing up his favourite colour, and flipping to a random page, cheering as it was a cool race car, with flames up the sides, all waiting to be coloured. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, he kept the lid in, chewing on the tip of it as he scribbled messily up and down the door of the car, smiling as it got bluer and bluer the more that he scribbled. Even if it didn’t particularly stay in the lines. Blue was nice, it was a boy’s color, like the sky, and the sea, and blue race cars that go nyoom! Will once said blue was a happy color, so that must mean it was good! Why else would he say it?  

It wasn’t like pink. Bleh, pink is a girl’s color, why would he want /that/? Pink was all flowers and dresses and bubblegum, blehhhh. Pulling a disgusted face, sticking his tongue out, which, in turn, made the lid fall out, Tommy shook his head. No, pink was most definitely not for a big boy like him. In his daydreaming, he hadn't heard the stairs creak, nor the tentative knock on the door, not realising as Tubbo crept into the room. “Hey, Tommy? Wilbur said we could ord- oh.” he started, before noticing his friend on the floor, surrounded by coloring pens. Tommy, spinning round at the familiar voice, smiled to see Tubbo, waving gently with his uncapped pen, but making no effort to get up, instead turning back to his coloring once he was done. “Well, I was gunna ask what pizza you wanted, but it’s ok, I'll just say pepperoni. Have fun with … what you’re doing.” Tubbo murmured, not wanting to disturb Tommy when he seemed so concentrated, instead shutting the door behind himself, and heading back down the stairs to where Wilbur was waiting on the sofa.

“Hey. What’d he say?” Will greeted, his laptop open to some takeout website, smiling gently as Tubbo relayed the information for pepperoni, before placing the order quickly. “Alright, that’s done, is he coming down?” he asked, shutting his laptop once he was done, just as Tubbo settled back in the armchair and picked up his switch. “Nah, he’s little.” he spoke simply, as if it was common knowledge, reopening his animal crossing island to keep fishing, like he had been. Confused, Wilbur tilted his head, brushing aside his hair as it flopped over his eyes, and let out a quiet “Huh?”, making Tubbo look up, and meet his eyes. “What do you mean little?” he asked, curiously, not understanding as the teen clammed up, looking mortified. “I shouldn’t have said that. I should /not/ have said that.” He muttered, hiding his red face behind the console. “It’s not my place to say.” he tried to wriggle out of the situation, but, with a stern look from Wilbur, he was pinned in place.  

“um...wow, how to put it...” he fidgeted in place, trying to find the words to explain to a rapidly more and more concerned WIlbur. “um...he’s thinking like a kid...not Tommy?” he tried, but, from the blank look he got back, he knew that wasn’t enough. “It’s...It’s like a response to stress? Or...or just cuz...?” he tried again, watching as Will nodded slowly. “Um...he’s coloring right now...i don’t think he wants to be bothered?” he interrupted, as Will stood, to go up the stairs. “I could...i could try to find a website to explain to you, if you wanted? I'm... I'm not too good at this.” Tubbo offered, reaching for his laptop, silently relieved as Wilbur sat back down.  

“That would be nice, actually, I'm lost.” He admitted, handing it over, and watching as Tubbo struggled to type out whatever he was trying to, eventually finding a page that seemed right. “Uh, it’s a Tumblr page but...i think it’s got the stuff on...” he mumbled, passing the brightly coloured page back over to him. Credit to him, as Tubbo watched on nervously, Will didn’t seem disgusted, reading with genuine intellectual curiosity, before sitting back. “Woah, okay. That’s intense.” He commented, letting out a deep exhale, and rubbing his eyes. “Why is he little, did you say?” he asked, but Tubbo froze. “I’m...i’m actually not sure. Tommy does it both ways, on purpose and not. Maybe the lore stream today? He did end quickly...” he commented mostly to himself, then rubbing his upper arm. “He normally comes and DMs me after if it’s been a hard stream though... maybe cuz you’re here, he didn’t want to talk about it?”  

Throwing out theories, Tubbo tried to hide his confusion and slight hurt that the little he liked to think of as his baby brother when he was in headspace, hadn't told him, chewing on his nails a little. “I do know he calls you his brother though...maybe he was shy in case you didn’t like him doing it?” he murmured, eyes flicking up to the bespectacled 24 year old watching with rapt attention. Luckily, he looked amused, adjusting his beanie. “Hey, it wouldn’t be the only time, I'm practically his older brother all the time.” He chuckled, casting an eye over the page still up on his screen. “It says here about something called...CGs?” he sounded tentative as he looked up to Tubbo again. “It does, and before you ask, No, he doesn’t have one. And yes, he really should, the chaotic doesn’t go down.” he replied, feeling a lot more comfortable now they could make fun of his friend again.  

“Should...should we head upstairs, go make sure he doesn’t like...set fire to something?” Will suggested, after a few moments of chuckling, right before a loud thump interrupted Tubbo’s beginning complaint. “Ok, Ok , maybe that’s a good idea.” he smiled, putting his switch to the side before standing. “I’ll go warn him.” He held out a hand to stop Will mounting the steps before him, smiling as he feigned offense. “Trust me, you wanna prepare for this, he might still be Tommy, but he’s... different.” Running up the stairs, best as he could, with the nerves he now had in every vein, he quickly pushed open the door, to see the little tugging at a stuffed animal wedge in a cardboard box. Carefully pulli ng it out, he easily identified it as Henry, pushing it into Tommy’s arms with a smile. “I have a surprise for you, Toms, you ready?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle as Tommy nodded enthusiastically. “Awe, good!”  

Awkward, shuffling footsteps were the only indicator Will was coming in, before he rounded the corner, with a small smile. “H-Hi Tommy.” his arms were held awkwardly in front of him, crossed across his chest like he didn’t know how to react. But it wasn’t too much of an issue, since, as soon as he saw Wilbur, Tommy jumped to his feet, running to him. “Wilby!” he cheered, hugging him tightly. “Missed chu!” he grinned, as Will hesitantly pet his hair. “Uh, hey kid, whatchu up to?” he asked, as Tubbo watched on with a soft smile, perching on the bed.  “I heard you were coloring?” he asked, looking to the teen for confirmation, as he nodded enthusiastically again, and dropped to his knees, grabbing his pens to keep going.  

“Yeah! Iz blu!” he smiled, thrusting a cyan pen to the elder one. Carefully sitting down between him and the wall, Wilbur smiled and nodded. “You’re right, it is blue. Do you like blue?” Clearly that was the right question, since Tommy started speaking, so fast they could barely get a word in edgewise, about the color, kicking his legs happily as he started to scribble again, starting to color in the fire on the side of the car now, under the watchful eye of his friends.  

Furrowing his brow slightly at the missing color, Will spoke up, after some small humming being the only thing to break the silence. “Hey, Toms, where’s your pink?” he wondered aloud, jumping slightly as Tommy shouted a “No!”, rather vehement. “No,no, no! Pink for /girls/.” he mumbled, when Will shushed him. Curious, he tilted his head, his hair falling agin, and ‘hmm’d  slightly. “Pink isnt a girl’s color, Tommy, what makes you think that?” he didn’t understand, not even as Tommy sent him a disbelieving face. “Pink...pink for princess” he struggled to explain, making Tubbo nod quietly from where he sat.  “But, I like pink, Toms, am I a princess?” he chimed in, taken aback as Tommy giggled, and nodded. “P’incess tubby!” he smiled, making Wilbur chuckle and nod. “That’s right, kid, Toby’s a princess now.” watching the teen stand and mockingly spin around, before carefully bopping Tommy’s head, like a fairy. “ding, ding, Tommy is now a kid!” he laughed, moving over to the cupboard that usually housed the colouring, pulling out a shameful looking pink tub, and placing it on the floor beside the kid. “Let’s try these ones too, huh?” Will prompted, picking up a pastel pink, and doodling a small flower in the corner.  

Tommy nodded, gently, slipping a little, pink pacifier into his mouth when nobody was looking, and hesitantly choosing a maroon pen, trying a clumsy smiley face, soon joined by tubbo doodling a bee, of course. Laughing, Will tried another flower, and a heart, wanting to keep what he did simple, making Tommy smile as a little of the ink went over his fingers. Catching the pen before he tried to draw on his own face, Will tutted gently at Tommy, his new little friend. His little...brother? Before they realised it, the scribbly car had been overshadowed by their doodles, Tommy having branched out into pink the more his friends didn’t seem to mind it being there, slowly smiling more and more, until he was giggling loud and free, fully convinced now, that Pink was, in fact, not a girl’s color.  

[hcrringtonshair]

Sweet as sugar

Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: Sarah Wilson is your best friend and she’s inviting you for dinner.

Word Count: 2048

Warnings: a few swearing words, alcohol consumption and fluff

A/n: Thank you sm for requesting this @buckybarnes101 !! I had so much fun writing this and I kinda got lost in it so it’s pretty long but I couldn’t stop myself 😁 Anyways, I really hope you like it!

Sorry for any grammatical errors, I don’t have a beta reader and I’m not a native english speaker.

Masterlist

(Gif credit goes to @emraanhashmi)

Dinner tonight at my place? The boys are asking for you like every 5 minutes and I want to see my best friend

With a big grin you looked at your phone reading the message from your best friend Sarah.

You checked the time, 4 pm.

Sure! Can’t wait to see you all again 😍 I’ll be there at 7? Oh and is Sam back home?

Your hand landed with a clap on your forehead, why did you ask this? But it was too late to delete it because Sarah already saw it.

You were best friends since college, and she knew about your secret crush on Sam all over the years.

But since he was off to be an avenger and safe the world you had given up any hopes and went into dating again. Not that successful but at least you tried.

We can’t wait either ☺️ Fine I’ll prepare dinner soon and yes Sam is here!

A tickle went through your stomach, and you couldn’t help but to smile, rereading the message before you jumped off your seat.

One of your colleagues looked up from the other side of the desk.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes. Uh.. Important stuff.”

You waved with the phone, grabbing your bag and jacket.

“I worked last Tuesday 3 hours longer. So leaving one hour earlier today will be no problem. Bye!”

After you rushed home, you realized you had no plan what to wear. Normally you showed up at Sarah’s in comfy clothes but today was different. Full of excitement you started to empty the wardrobe, looking for something special.

6:13 pm. Shit you would be there too late… As always.

You nearly stomped over a bunch of clothing that laid on the floor by heading to the door.

Only 10 minutes too late you arrived at the house, Sarah waved from the kitchen window as the door opened and two boys ran to you.

“Aunt y/n”

The two hugged you when you barely left the car, making one step back because of them rushing onto you.

“Hey boys.”

Smiling you put your arms around both of them.

“C’mon we have to show you our new video game!”

They both start running towards the house as you follow them slowly.

“They’re even louder than I remember.”

You laughed as you entered the kitchen, greeting Sarah with a hug, giving her a bottle of wine you bought in the city before.

“That’s because they have an uncle who encourages them, isn’t it like that Sam?”

For a moment you froze before turning around, following the view of Sarah to look at her brother who leans at the door frame.

Arms crossed on his chest, the tight sweater showing off every muscle on his broad arms.

His eyes wander down your body for a moment before they locked with yours again and a little smirk appeared on his lips.

The smirk that you loved so much and makes your heartbeat racing up.

“That’s absolutely right.”

He pushed himself off the frame, making his way to you.

“Long time no see sugar.”

You frown by him calling you sugar, not able to reply directly.

“World’s safe then I guess.”

When his arms wrapped around your body for a moment you held your breath.

You smelled his cologne, a mix of vanilla and cedar wood.

“Safer than ever.”

Before you could react he stepped back, noticing his hands brushing over your hips while letting go.

Automatically a bright smile showed up on your face, you looked at each other, and you didn’t notice the silence in the room before Sarah coughed giggling behind you.

“Sam would you mind to go and tell the boys they have to quit playing. Mr Liu is going to pick them up in 5 minutes.”

Not without winking at you Sam left the kitchen, you hear him laughing in the living room as you turn around.

“So what was that?”

Sarah handed you a glass of wine grinning knowingly, you both toasted.

“What?”

Making an innocent face after taking a few sips of the alcohol.

“This between you and him. I could literally feel the tension. And don’t lie to me, I know that you have a crush on him ever since I introduced you to each other.”

With every word you recognize your cheeks heat up and panic builds up in your stomach as you heard footsteps in your direction while she was speaking.

“Mr Liu is here.”

Sam’s face looked into the room, the boys rushing in to give their mother and you a short hug before leaving again followed by Sam.

When the door closed you breathed out heavy.

“There was no tension. We just haven't seen each other for a long time.”

You shrugged and saw through the window how Sam was saying goodbye to his nephews.

“Of course y/n. Next time tell me something I really could believe.”

Playfully you slapped Sarah’s shoulder and you both started laughing.

“Dinner is ready soon. C’mon let’s sit down outside.”

“Wow I nearly forgot how beautiful it is here.”

Astonished by the view of the last sun shining glittering on the calm water and the trees slowly waving in the warm breeze you made yourself comfortable on the bench on the veranda.

“If you would visit us more often you wouldn’t say that.”

Sam companies the two of you by sitting down next to you.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him casually resting his arm behind you.

You gave Sarah a haunting look which she answered with a giggle.

Her eyes switched from you to her brother and for a moment she stayed on him.

Since Sam sat down, your body had cramped, and you concentrated to act normal by emptying the glass of wine in one.

“Wow, slow it down, sugar. We don’t want you to be drunk before dessert.”

His giggling sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but to let out a nervous laughter.

“I’m honored that you care but don’t worry. I still have to drive home.”

You hadn’t noticed that Sarah left while you had spoken to Sam, so you turn around a bit, casually crossing your legs and resting hands folded on the upper thigh.

“Then I’ll give you more wine.”

His arm shoots around you to the table on your left to grab the bottle of wine, “More wine, less leaving.”

“Oh shit. Sorry guys, I forgot about Mrs Benoit’s Gutter. I promised her to fix it today.”

Sarah rushed out of the house down the staircase and you both flinched by the sudden interruption.

“But I already fixed it earlier this morning!”

Sam shouted at her when she headed to the car.

She waved with her hand, “She said it’s broken again! Dinner is ready, start eating without me, I’ll be back asap.”

Speechless you stared at your best friend, who was giving you a wink through the car window before driving away.

Seconds of silence let you inspect the fine fabric of your blouse.

“So then. Let’s go eating.”

You looked up, watching Sam going back on his feet reaching out for your hand.

For a brief moment you stare at his hand, feeling again your cheeks heating up before taking it timidly.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, it pounded so fast that you thought it would spring out of your rib cage every second.

The fact that Sarah already prepared the table with only two plates didn’t help.

“Damn it Sarah.”

You murmured as you sat down, Sam on the opposite laughed, his eyes shining in the dimmed light.

“I’m pretty sure that the gutter is fixed.”

“So am I. And I’m convinced that she will not be back soon.”

He opens up a beer and silently you both put some food on your plates.

“She was also bold enough to light candles. Didn’t know her romantic side until then.”

Sam laughed again at your words, nearly knocking over his beer can.

“She can be. Did you know how much she loved Dirty Dancing when we were younger? Or Titanic, god how many handkerchiefs were necessary for her tears.”

“Sounds familiar.”

Without looking at him you began to eat, grinning at the thought of a younger Sam who helps Sarah calm down after the death of Jack.

“Wait, don’t tell me that your most favorite movie of all time is Titanic.”

His eyes showed surprise and a bit of shock and you laughed again when his left hand wandered up to his chest, resting it where the heart is.

“No way! But I won’t lie when I say that I’ve cried when Rose realized that Jack is dead. It is an emotional scene and I will never not cry while watching this.”

You paused for taking the wine glass up to your lips, noticing that Sam was following your movements with his eyes.

You giggled into the glass, raising eyebrows which leads him to speak.

“I forgot how good you’re looking. No let me speak out.”

He raised one hand to stop you from speaking up.

“You’re really beautiful y/n. Sweet as sugar.”

He gave you a wink, his hand randomly brushing over yours as you both wanted to grab a spoon.

“Thank you.”

In your head you slapped yourself for that dumb answer, but it was impossible to make one right thought in your head since Sarah had left.

After dinner and three more glasses of wine you’d become more confident and put all your thoughts aside.

“So what next? I’m not ready to leave.”

“Maybe we should use the time, even though I don’t think that my sister will be here soon.”

He made a gesture to show you to follow him.

“We could watch a movie.”

He looked at a small shelf, left to the TV and you accompanied him, your eyes flying over the titles on the DVD boxes.

“What about that?”

You groan as he held Titanic in his hands, grinning down at you and wiggling with his eyebrows.

“No way unless you want to make me cry.”

“Maybe it’s just an excuse to hold you.”

The innocent glare he gave you before inspecting the cover of the box let your hands shake.

“You don’t need an excuse for that.”

Mumbling you choose another box holding it up so that he could read it.

“Sounds like an offer. Go make yourself comfortable, I’ll handle this.”

He took the box, and you made your way to the couch in front of the TV.

It wasn’t possible to concentrate yourself on Bad Boys II.

Soon as he sat down beside you, he had wrapped one arm around your shoulders and pushed you against his chest.

Immediately you had lied down your head on it which caused him to giggle lightly.

The alcohol had made your head go dizzy, and soon you felt how your eyelids become heavy.

“You’re sure you want to drive home? You can stay here, or I can bring you.”

His voice was close to your ear, and you flinched, you must have been asleep for a short moment.

“Oh no you don’t have to. I’m fine and besides, how will you come home then?”

“Then we’ll take my car, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow. But you can just stay here. We have a free room.”

With a big yawn you sit up, stretching out your arms before falling back against him.

“You know what. I’ll stay here. But you can pick me up from work tomorrow anyways.”

The blood shoots into your face as you heard yourself speaking, embarrassed you looked up to see him smile.

You stayed like this for a couple of seconds, his hands wandering up and down your back.

“You know what I can also do?”

“You could kiss me.”

You had spoken out loud your thoughts before you had really thought about it.

And he did, pressing down his lips onto yours and caused you to hold your breath for a moment.

The kiss was slow, his smooth lips moved perfectly against yours, and you couldn’t help but to grab his shoulders and push yourself closer to him.

“Sarah should leave us alone more often then.”

[blps]

Are you having fun?

Pairing: Sakusa x reader

Genre: fluff! (And maybe also stranger to why am I stuck with you to oh nevermind I guess you are nice to hang out with to oh shit I think I caught feelings) anybody got a name for that trope??

Word count: ~2.6k

Summary: Your friend’s crush has four tickets to an amusment park, and so while your friend and her crush pratically abandons you with the none other than Sakusa Kiyomi

a/n: Wow thos is my longest fic, I think Sakusa is a bit ooc in this because of how fast he warms up to you but THIS IS FICTION SO WHO CARES haha ok anyways enjoy!

///////////////////////////////////////

You couldn’t believe you agreed to this. Currently in a car, hearing your friend besides you thanking you for tagging along and rambling about her perfect crush, you looked outside the window, thinking about how comfortable your bed was and how you wished you could have stayed in it.

But of course you had to agree to your friend’s offer. The pleading in their eyes made you feel guilty if you said no. She really liked him and you were pretty sure he did too. The both of them were just too shy to initiate the first move. So what could go wrong? Well the fact that you were going to arrive at 8am on a saturday morning was the problem.

And so with your little sleep hours you had, you encourage yourself to do this and make sure that your friend and her crush end up confessing by the end of the day.

One of your worries was the fourth person. Your friend informed you that you wouldn’t be third wheeling, another person would accompany you, wasn’t that wonderful? No. Doing first interactions with a new human being was nonexistent on your list of favourite things to do. Will you and them click off and could enjoy a day together? Or will it be awkward the whole time? What if you both will not get along? So many questions you weren’t so eager to find the answer.

Your friend parked the car, giving you a blinding smile as she got out of the car. You wanted to at least not ruin her first date so you switched your moody morning self to the ‘I totally want to socialise with you’ persona.

As you got out of the car, the sun warmed your skin from the fresh breeze of mornings. You walked behind your friend as you met with what would be the crush and your companion for the rest of the day.

Your partner for the day turned around, and you were just in awe of his beauty. He was tall, more than 6’. His dark hair curled nicely, perfectly framing his face. Well, the partial part you could see anyway as he was wearing a mask. But if that mask didn’t further accentuate his beauty then you didn’t know what else will. As you got closer, two beauty marks were more noticable and that was the last straw. He just took the prize for the most beautiful man effortlessly; it almost made you angry.

He introduced himself with the most soothing voice. You gathered yourself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable as you greeted him properly and his friend. The four of you then entered the amusement park, ready for a day of ups and downs.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You knew it would end up like this. As soon as your friend and her crush had a map of the place, they immediately left you and Sakusa alone.

It was silent between the two of you. Guess he wasn’t that much of a talker. You took a map for yourself. You were about to ask what he would like to do when his words cut the silence first.

“I’m not riding any roller coasters.”

Well, that was a really good start.

“May I ask why? Who would come to an amusement park and not try at least one rollercoaster?”, you replied.

“I hate germs and if you were aware, the seats are filled with strangers filth”, his eyes clearly judging you,” I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.”

Oh yeah his looks wouldn’t be able to save him now.

“Excuse me? Are you calling me unsanitary?”

“Considering how you touched the rotating metal bars with your bare hands at the entrance, I would agree. Do you even realise how many germs you just touched?”

His look of distaste was the only confirmation that he was in fact, a germaphobe. Great. Who would’ve guessed a germaphobe would be in an amusement park. You really hit the target for the least desirable person to spend a whole day with in your situation.

You sigh as you took your hand sanitiser from your bag and rubbed your hands vigorously, giving him the most infuriating glare you could do.

“Here”, you showed your hands to him,” there now should be 0.01% bacteria, if you don’t want to ride a rollercoaster, fine. At least let’s walk around and look for our friends since you wouldn’t gain more bacteria.”

You turned around, ready to do anything but be alone with the judging look all day. You should at least have a good time when you were forced out of your comfy bed to be here.

With your back turned to him and his face mask on, you wouldn’t have known of that tiny smirk on Sakusa’s lips.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Your plan didn’t go as well as you expected. You and Mr. Nofun were sitting as far away as you could from a bench. You were even surprised that he sat on it. Your friend ran along with your crush to who knows where and so you weren’t able to find her.

Silence once again ruled in the atmosphere. Only the faint sound of rollercoasters and people screaming were reaching your ears. You have texted your friend to meet up, you couldn’t handle being alone with him anytime longer. Maybe you should leave him. Why should you stay? You were fully capable of having a good time by yourself.

“I didn’t expect you to have a hand sanitizer with you.”

This was not the time.

“Why did you even come if you weren’t going to do anything? There really weren’t any more suitable candidates?”

You were both staring each other down, arguments ready to be unleashed when a new sound reached both of your ears.

The great rumbling of hungry stomachs.

Yours to be more precise.

Burying yourself deep in the ground was a very enticing idea right now, until Sakusa’s stomach joined in on the symphony of hunger.

With few words of agreement, you both went to find something to eat.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You were both eating, in silence once again. Sakusa finished his bite, and stared at you until your own eyes met his.

“No there weren’t any suitable candidates. No one wanted to spend a day with two lovers at an amusement park. And since I thought I would be alone, I planned to do nothing. I didn’t know you would be here.”

Your temper from earlier calmed down, you finished your bite as you answered back:

“Well fair enough but I still would like to enjoy myself you know? You're not the only one that is forced to be here. I didn’t even get to finnish my dream and next thing I know, I’m out of bed and onto one of the most social places you could be.”

Since his mask was off his face so he could eat, which was both a blessing and a curse, you were able to notice the small smirk forming.

“Well how about you do what you would like? Don’t bother about the others, enjoy your day.”

Well, maybe he wouldn’t be a pain after all.

“You have something stuck between your teeth.”

You spoke too soon.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Aside from his comments, it was actually going pretty well. You had participated in some mini activities and won some prizes. You had gained stuffed animals, a balloon, and more unnecessary gadgets. You wanted to at least try the haunted house but Sakusa refused to go in it.

You were currently in a ferris wheel for a little break, devouring a pink cotton candy while your now tolerable partner was doing his best in trying not to touch the metal security bar.

You let out a chuckle, the both of you arriving at the top.

“I’ll let you use my hand sanitizer. Just hold it if you want to feel secure”, your soft chuckle making his eyebrows furrow.

“It doesn’t work that way”

“Here take this”, you handed him your cotton candy as you searched your bag for your gloves,” here I had these gloves since we would stay to watch the fireworks and it would be pretty chilly at night.”

His eyes reflected surprise as you took your cotton candy back and handed him the gloves. You continued admiring the view and eating the sugar, oblivious to the man besides you who wanted to calm his heartbeat and the pink blossoming coloring his cheeks.

When you were back on the ground and walking around. You spotted one of your favourite activities yet so far. The prize was a living fish and you were just so excited to win one you grabbed Sakusa’s sleeve and dragged him eagerly to the stand.

Time flew by as well as your money. Your wallet couldn’t withstand another round. You just couldn’t beat the game and win the fish. Adding on to that, you felt Sakusa’s annoyance from your back facing him. He was probably tired of holding your stuff.

You accepted your defeat, ready to go, until you felt his presence besides you. His arm extended, cash on his hand.

“Another round please.” The host prepared the booth once again, happy with his earnings. Meanwhile, you prepared to not disappoint Sakusa, mentally forcing yourself to not screw this up. You looked over him, about to thank him. However, he only gave you your stuff back.

“You are so bad at this, let me just show you how it’s done”, his gentle eyes were locked with your surprised ones. It was different from the usual judgemental and disgusted look he had.

Before you knew it, he was facing you again, but this time, he held a plastic bag with a bright small orange fish swimming around.

“Shall we continue, the others are probably searching for us as well.” He kept on walking, not bothering to check if you were following him. Snapping out of your shocked state, you quickly catched up to him, thinking how to thank him.

“Um.. thanks, for winning the fish for me, I-“

“Oh I think you misunderstood,” he smirked, giving you a teasing look, “I won this fish. So I will be keeping it.”

Irritation washed over you. But before you could respond, your name was called out in the crowd. You saw your friend jogging towards you, hand in hand with her crush. At least this day was going well for one of you.

“I’m so glad we found you! We went to the randez-vous point you sent by text but you weren’t there-” She hugged you tight before whispering in your ear, “I’m sorry I didn’t see the text sooner,” before pulling away.

“We were going to our last roller coaster, if you guys want to join us. It’s getting dark anyways, better not be separated again.”

You glanced over at Sakusa, wondering if he was ok doing at least one. He reluctantly agreed, but made an effort nonetheless.

You were walking with your friend, a little behind the others so your conversation wouldn’t be heard.

“I hope you are at least enjoying yourself”, your friend looked at you with concerned eyes, waiting and searching for signs that you would like to leave, “I had a really good time so I wouldn’t mind if you would like to leave, I can drive you home.” You knew that if you felt uncomfortable in any way, she wouldn’t hesitate to take you home safely. However, you didn’t need to go home yet, you could continue a bit. 

You considered it. You really did. What was keeping you from leaving? Even if Sakusa was a pain, you somewhat enjoyed his company. No. That couldn’t be it. It must be something else. You convinced yourself that it must be the fireworks.

Ignoring your feelings, you reassured your friend that you were fine. You would enjoy the rest of the day for yourself, not letting anything, or anyone for that matter, to ruin it.

The four of you finally arrived at your final destination. Turns out that no feelings will be ignored. The roller coaster was a lover's tunnel. Guess who’s your partner.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was awkward. You and Sakusa were side by side on the swan shaped boat, not a word travelled between the two of you.

You were alone in the tunnel, the smooth warm lighting meant for couples not helping. If the situation couldn’t get more embarrassing, romantic music started to play and the both of you went stiff.

That was it. Better bicker about something else than being silent. Your heart beated frantically against your chest, a miracle it hasn’t bolted out and left you. You turned your face to face Sakusa, noticing the faint pink on his ears.

“So will you keep the fish?” You shouldn’t have talked, maybe it made matters worse. In this situation, perhaps it was better to keep silent and never speak of it again. But even if that was the case, you shouldn’t make a big deal out of it right?

You were certain you held no feelings for Sakusa. He was mean, teasing, insufferable, never having fun, a germ freak and handsome. Wait no, none of that attractiveness, when someone has an undesirable personality, they appear uglier. But was he really that unattractive or were you trying to convince yourself that even the idea of liking him was impossible. 

“I won it. Of course I’ll keep it”, he mumbled behind his mask. The atmosphere was falling once again in silence, besides the music playing.

You dug into your mind to find a new conversation. Or not. Maybe it was his way of wanting zero conversation. You hated this. Your mind was in total chaos and your heart was not stopping anytime soon, it only seemed to increase.

“I haven’t yet chosen a name though. If you want to help that is,” he was still averting his eyes, not completely facing your direction.

The rest of the ride continued with various propositions of names for the fish. And every single one of them ended either with a flat out ‘no’ or a mocking comment.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The sun was already setting, the night sky was ruling above as you sat besides Sakusa and your friend. You were waiting for the fireworks to begin, the final activity of the day. Finally this day seemed to stretch out forever. You were almost at your limit, the hours of sleep you skipped catching up on you.

Even at that, you couldn’t ignore that little sting in your heart at the realisation that this was probably the last day you would spend with Sakusa. He wasn’t the perfect choice, but he stayed by your side and let you have fun. The teasing was a bit annoying, but you enjoyed the insignificant bicker. Maybe if you had more time would you warm up to him. You wanted to continue spending time with him.

Your doubts were invading your mind. Perhaps Sakusa didn’t want to see you again. After all he was mean to you from the start. Did he enjoy your company? He did follow your lead all day. If he didn’t like you, wouldn’t he just go his seperate way?

“Did you have fun?” His question surprised you. You were captivated by his eyes. They didn’t hold the usual teasing look he gave you. You couldn’t quite decipher it, but they held something different this time. But you agreed. You did have fun today.

You knew he was smiling behind his mask. He looked like he wanted to say something,but your moment was interrupted by the loud noises in the sky.

In all but a few moments, Sakusa felt a weight drop on his shoulder. He stiffened, glancing down at your sleeping form. He was surprised you could sleep with all that noise. Your features were peaceful with the colored light illuminating your face.

He let you sleep, not wanting to disrupt your slumber. He had to admit to himself, he did have fun today too.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You woke up in your bed, your mind still urging you to continue to sleep. However you were distracted by the text you received from an unknown number. An image attached to it of an aquarium and a familiar looking fish in it.

Unknown number

We still haven’t found a name

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

a/n: Thank you so much for reading until the end!

[katymacsupernatural]

Under the Texas Sun Part 4

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Story Summary:  

Having been best friends with Jensen since kindergarten, Jensen has always been there for Y/N when she’s needed it the most. Best friends turned roommates, but will he still be there for her when things turn south? Or will his friendship turn into something more?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

You shouldn’t have felt ashamed walking up to the front door at the crack of dawn the next morning. You were a grown woman, and this was your place too. Jensen wasn’t supposed to be home yet, so you would miss his judging eyes as he took in your messy appearance. And your appearance was messy, to say the least. The man had been handsy, and rough. Not only had he ripped your favorite bra and panty set, but the buttons on your shirt had been popped as well. Then there were the bruises on your hips from his hands as well.

Needless to say, the night had been anything but boring. But you would not be picking up the phone to call for a second night out. The look in the man’s eyes, the tightness of his hands on your skin had turned from exciting to a little nervewracking, and you left as early as you could.

“Someone’s coming home late. Or early,” Jensen muttered tiredly from the couch, a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Late,” you yawned, curling up on the couch beside him, snatching the cup of coffee, and taking a deep sip.

He didn’t say anything as you continued to drink his coffee, but you could feel his eyes on you, and you waited for the judgment to come. Finally, he sighed. “Y/N, you look like you were in a fight with a badger. Was it really worth it?”

You could feel the tears well up in your eyes, and you shook your head. “No, not really.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him, always the support you needed. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. Your taste in men….,”

“It’s horrible, I know. But I just wasn’t thinking last night. You get it.”

“Yeah, I do.”

He stood up, taking his coffee cup back. “Go get cleaned up, and I’ll have breakfast ready.”

You did as you were told, feeling even worse about last night now that Jensen had caught you. Sure, he understood your need for that connection but disapproved of who you usually turned to. And you could always see why. But not normally until the next morning.

Slipping out of your clothes, you threw them in the trash before glancing at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was a rat's nest on top of your head. Your mascara had smeared, giving you raccoon eyes. There was a hickey on your neck, and those deep bruises not only on your hips but on the sensitive skin of your breasts and thighs.

Wincing as you stepped under the hot water, you lathered up your loofa, scrubbing away all the remnants of the man’s touch.

Jensen hadn’t mentioned your one-night stand again as the two of you ate breakfast together. He talked about his brewery, and how they were having a big get-together later that day. You listened to him as you munched on a piece of bacon.

“Why don’t you come? You love the brewery, and it would be better than being stuck here all day. Free beer.”

You didn’t have to have your arm twisted. Heading back upstairs, you switched your sweats for a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a loose T-shirt. Slip-on sneakers finished your comfy outfit as you threw your hair up into a messy ponytail.

Picking up your sunglasses, you met Jensen in the hallway. He was dressed down in a pair of soft grey jeans and a henley, with one of his favorite hats in his hand. “Ready?”

You settled into the passenger seat, rolling the window down and turning the radio up as he headed out of town and towards the brewery. It was a brilliant day, and you refused to let your slight hangover dampen your mood.

“So you never told me,” you yelled over the loud radio. “Why are you home so early?”

He had designer sunglasses perched on his nose, and he pushed them up before glancing at you. “We finished filming early, and I just felt like I needed to be home. I wanted to get to the brewery early.”

You weren’t exactly sure you bought his story, but you were enjoying the time together so you stayed quiet as he pulled into the brewery’s parking lot. The place was already packed, and Jensen immediately got pulled into a conversation.

You took the offered glass of water, settling at a table towards the back of the room, watching as people mingled. This, this is what you always seemed to do. While everyone else laughed and enjoyed each other’s company, you watched.

Jensen stayed busy, often taking a moment to smile your way before getting pulled into another conversation. You had people stop by your table, talking with you before moving on. Your water glass slowly turned to beer. Taking the glass, you stepped outside, enjoying the warm sun against your skin.

Settling down at the end of the porch, you sipped on the beer when another group stepped outside. You immediately recognized one, the bartender of the brewery. “I can’t believe how snobbish she is,” the bartender Brittany muttered. “Just sitting at that back table, expecting people to come up to her. Expecting us to serve her. Just because she’s Jensen’s best friend doesn’t mean she deserves special treatment.”

You stayed still, astounded that they thought that about you. You didn’t think that way at all. It hurt that they would even think that.

“I really think she’s trying to turn her friendship into something more,” She continued. “I heard she just moved in with him. How long before she plants herself in his bed?”

They walked past, not even noticing you hiding in the corner. Tugging your sunglasses down, you stepped off the porch, heading to the table under the shade of the tree.

That’s where Jensen found you a short time later. “What are you doing out here? They’re bringing food in. I bet you’re hungry. And no more beer untell you get some food in you.”

“I’m fine,” you answered. “Just needed some peace and quiet.”

He peered down at you closely, not saying a word before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the building. “Come on. That red little bbq trailer is here. And I know you love their food.”

Read Part 5

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278   @bi-danvers0  @cap-just-said-language @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller  @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk  @mrspeacem1nusone​ @nothinbuttrouble2​ @ria132love​ @ruprecht0420​  @screechingartisancashbailiff​   @sortaathief​ @superseejay721517​ @squirrelnotsam​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @torn-and-frayed​ @tricksterdean​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​ @woodworthti666​ @beabutterfly987​ @pink-sparkly-witch​ @sexyvixen7​ @alwaysananglophile @supernatural3002​ @deans-baby-momma​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​

UTTS Tags: @deanwanddamons @fanfictionismydeath​ @supernatural-love14​ @jbbarnesgirl​ @deangirl7695​ @ladyofmaidensandwine​ @compresshischest09​ @thevelvetseries​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @supraveng​ @laycblack​ @ladyofmaidensandwine​ @imaginationisgrowth​

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algudaodoce03-blog @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove   @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498  @closetspngirl @deanwanddamons @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008  @esoltis280   @tatted-trina6 @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek  @heartislubbingdubbing @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99blog @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean  @jayankles @jensen-gal @justsomedreaming @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork  @lowlyapprentice   @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93  @nanie5   @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25   @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing  @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman   @superbadassnatural @thatcrazybookwormgeek   @thewinchesterchronicles @valsworldofcreativity @vvinch3st3r  @whimsicalrobots @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen @lyarr24 @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers

[vesuvian-american-fics]

better with time. Ch 6

your name.

You finally have a name for yourself, after so long you are Y/N. (AO3)

Words: 1,815

That afternoon you were woken up with a flick to the forehead. Slowly opening your eyes and allowing them to adjust to the bright scenery you found Levi looming over you. Before you could speak or sit up, he flicked your forehead again harshly.  

“Oi, brat. Wake up and eat...” He said with a bored tone. You frowned before groaning as you sat up. Your chest was sore, breathing was painful but you did find that you felt absolutely famished. Your muscles ached as you reached for the plate on your bed side table and began to eat hastily. Levi’s lips formed into a slight frown at the sight before him.  

“No manners.” He muttered to himself as he flipped through his reports. While you were asleep it seemed, Levi set up shop with you in the infirmary, a small table with a neat stack of forms sat a few feet away from you. Quill pens lay next to an ink well on one end, and on the other sat Levi’s favorite tea set. Levi’s eyes watched as yours scanned over his table and he cocked his brow at you.  

“Mind your business and eat.” He spat, before crossing one leg over the other. You huffed at him before taking a large bite out of your loaf of bread dramatically. The two of you rolling your eyes at each other.  

The silence drew on and as you finished your meal you sat awkwardly on your bed, not knowing what to do with your hands. Erwin hadn’t yet arrived with your new book and your old ones were nowhere to be found. Levi noticed this but decided against going to grab them for you from your old cellar.  

Silently he rose from his seat and poured you a cup of warm tea to ease your aching throat. The two of you sipped your teas in the continued silence before Hange came barging in to check on you.  

They felt your forehead, still a little warm but your fever was definitely dropping. After your routine checkup Hange asked if you were up for a bath to which you desperately agreed.  

“Well, Levi while I watch her in the bath can you change the sheets?” Hange asked with a shit eating grin, though it did little to mask their anxiety for asking Levi to do something like that. Levi frowned as he eyed the sheets over, knowing they were drenched in your sweat put him off.  

“No.” He replied dryly turning his body away from your bed as if to remove himself further away from your sick germs. Hange pouted before hatching a new idea for a solution.  

“If I switch the sheets, you’ll have to take her to the bath–”  

“Fine.” He said with an exasperated sigh, setting his tea cup down gently before slipping out of the door not waiting to see if you follow him or not. You groan and pout in Hange’s direction but do your best to catch up with Levi. Your body was feeling so heavy and weak you looked forward to the bath but not with Levi in the room.  

The partition will help to give you privacy but the dead silence will be nerve wracking. Your inner complaints fell silent when you found yourself walking past many of the scouts you recall seeing in the canteen and outside of the infirmary.  

The scouts gawked and moved out of Levi’s path as he walked on ahead but you slowed down to take the time to memorize their faces. They looked younger than you, well, everyone’s younger than you considering your past but that’s beside the point.  

You gave the young scouts a sheepish smile and a little wave before catching up with Levi. You gave the young boy with those large emerald eyes a curt nod before continuing on. He looked like he wanted to ask a million questions, and you hoped one day to be able to answer them.  

Levi addressed a tall man as he walked towards the baths, his name was Mike. The two men nodded at one another as they passed by and you gave him a small nod of your own. However, instead of returning that gesture the tall man hastily slapped his hand over his nose and backed away from you.  

Mortified, you gasped and wrapped your arms over your body as if to conceal your scent. Was it that bad, really? As if it couldn’t get any worse Levi saw the entire thing and a smug look was painted over his features, probably laughing at your expense. You whined to yourself before continuing to the bath and slipping inside.  

Levi shook his head trying and failing to conceal the smirk on his face.  

“Mike has a strong sense of smell.” He commented as you slid the partition in front of the tub with a frown ever present on your features. You sucked your teeth at the new information.  

“ Great, so I just broke his nose with my ick, ” you thought to yourself. Levi stood across the room with arms folded as you peaked back behind the partition and began to undress. You slid down into the steaming water and released a delighted sigh, allowing your weary muscles relax in the warmth. Any humiliation from you encounter with Mike melting away.

Hearing the splashing water die down Levi excused himself to quickly retrieve fresh clothes for you. He brought back an olive button down blouse, khaki slacks, and a pair of slippers. Swiftly he walked up to the chair next to your bath and dropped the neatly folded clothes onto its seat. You eyed him warily, sinking an inch deeper into the bath but Levi was a gentleman of course, he made no attempt at sneaking a peak at your body and you appreciated that. It was hard to imagine him as the perverted type anyway.

<3

Levi leaned his back against the wall of the washroom near the door, sighing before reluctantly breaking the silence.  

“You remember your name yet brat?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he waited impatiently for your attempted response. You hummed “no”, sounding a bit sad.  

“Troublesome...” He muttered under his breath but you caught what he said loud and clear. You huffed at his comment before reaching for the shampoo bottle and giving your scalp a scrub.  

You hummed delightedly, feeling refreshed and clean. Just as you were stepping out of the bath Levi ordered you to hurry, dress, and get back to the infirmary. Levi stepped into the hall where he was met with a scout pacing back and forth on the other side of the door impatiently waiting for someone to emerge.  

“What do you want brat?” Levi spat waiting for the young boy to explain himself.  

It was Eren Yeager, he had so many questions he’s been wanting to ask about you. Who you are and why you’re here? Just as he opened his mouth to ask as much you stepped into the hall, dressed in your new comfy clothes and drying your drenched hair on a fluffy towel.  

Eren’s eyes scanned between you and Captain Levi, mouth still agape before he finally spoke.  

“You’re a titan shifter?” He interrogated, staring a bit too hard at you. It was a little unnerving how eager he seemed for an answer, an answer you weren’t sure of yourself.  

Awkwardly you shrugged your shoulders looking between the two men.  

“Theres your answer brat, now get to cleaning in there.” Levi ordered shuffling between the two of you to leave towards the infirmary.  

“B-but–” Eren attempted to protest his new chores but he was quickly silenced with an irritated glance from the Captain. Eren deflated before stalking off into the wash room to tidy up to Levi’s high standards. You gave him an apologetic smile before following Levi back to your room.  

There you were met with Commander Erwin, he stood in the middle of the room flipping through a thick book, one you supposed was meant for you.  

“Oh, there you are!” He said with a bright smile handing over the book to you.  

“This is for you, pick whichever one you like most.” He nodded towards the text in your hands, while you looked at him questionably. That is, until you saw the context of the book. Names.  

It was a book filled entirely of names to pick from. Something in your chest twisted almost painfully, you hadn’t realized how heartbreaking it was to have forgotten your own name. However, finding a new identity for your new life felt a bit rewarding and poetic. Grinning with misty eyes you flipped through the pages enthusiastically.  

A knock sounded against the door but you ignored it as you continued to scan the pages with haste. Hange slipped inside and Levi caught them up on what was happening.  

“She's picking out a name...” He said with a bored tone, yet on the inside he was anticipating your choice. Hange gasped and clapped their hands together, excited to finally have a name to call you form here on out.  

You pointed out a name to Hange and watched as their expression soured.  

“I don’t know about Daisy for you...” they said hesitantly, a tentative smile on their face as they flipped to another page to divert your attention from Daisy. Levi’s own expression twisted at the sound of that one too, and Erwin chuckled giving a choice of his own.  

“Mildred?” This time you were the one frowning, shaking your head frantically before snorting a bit at that name. Levi shook his head before adding his suggestion.  

“How about the brat flips to a random page and the first name she finds we use that? Problem solved.” He added, feigning irritation and impatience. You gave him a small smile before taking him up on the offer.  

Closing your eyes, you flipped the pages at random before randomly stopping yourself and pointing at a spot on the page.  

Slowly you opened one eye to see where you landed, Hange leaned eagerly over your shoulder to get a glance themself.  

“Ooo~ I like this one!” Hange exclaimed giving you a playful nudge in the side. Erwin glanced at your finger on the page, his thick eyebrows raising a fraction in surprise.  

“Lucky pick! It’s lovely, do you like it?” He asked, his features softening at the dazed look on your face. You loved it, it felt perfect. You felt like this name was already yours. You nodded softly, unshed tears clouding your vision.  

Levi sauntered over and looked at the name on the page before giving a curt nod.  

“It’s not shitty.” He said plainly. You chuckled before smiling at the page once more.  

That’s when, in 107 years you uttered your first word. Voice soft and trembling.  

“Y/N.”  

[tttinytrash]

A prompt from the legendary Shy! I decided to go with this one first because the most ideas to fill in the framework they so kindly provided sprung to mind immediately, but expect the other two they sent along at some point soon. I took the liberty of picking Classic and Underfell Sans for the cast, but the nicknames will probably have made that clear anyhow. I tried to change it up and made the prey brave rather than the nervous wreck I often default to, so hopefully that pans out. Enjoy!

Nerds really do have more fun.

You’re not entirely sure how your socially inept self had made friends as good as these two, but your life had definitely improved exponentially after their addition to it. Red and Classic were both skeletons, but that was immaterial to your friendship with the two.

For the moment you three were tinkering away in the lab the university provided for your research. You were attempting to make a version of the monsters’ inventories that was more accessible for humans, or a TARDIS pocket as Classic had taken to calling the project. You couldn’t argue the accuracy of the comparison, though the name would sadly have to change for copyright purposes at some point. The idea was to make a pocket that was larger on the inside, thereby vastly increasing storage capabilities for the denizens of the world without magical capabilities.

Classic was at the far workbench, going over the calculations yet again while you and Red were closer to the machine actually intended to form the dimensional pockets. The burned scraps of a grocery tote bag, the cremated remains of your latest failed attempt, hung in place in the machine for now despite the machine not being active. Red was shoulders deep in the thing, checking that the soldering on the wires were holding after another failed test. You were busy removing the latest scorches from the machine’s plating when you heard the dull hum start. 

You glanced over at saw the machine had started trying to form another rift, without any kind of vessel and without any of you having activated it. Worse, two thirds of the team was not even remotely beyond the safety perimeter! You didn’t even think, you just grabbed Red by the pelvis and dragged him out of the machine. You didn’t even process what he was saying, nor his angry tone as you bundled him up bridal style and bolted from the danger zone. 

You were almost in the clear when you heard the explosion behind you and felt the searing heat on your back. Well, as least you’d gotten your more sturdy human body between your 1HP monster companion and the blast, you had time to think. 

The pain ebbed as quickly as it came and you felt like you were in freefall...

-----

Red really didn’t know what the hell had just happened. 

He’d felt the human yank him out of the maintenance hatch, and the glow and crackling of building energy he could get from over their shoulder as they ran clued him in roughly and mollified his annoyance in favor of concern. Then there was heat and he felt his body fall to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Classic had been far enough away from the blast to be unharmed, and therefore was free to rush over to where Red lay. 

He groaned as the unharmed skeleton arrived, not missing the other’s visual sweep of his body for injury or dust. 

“are you ok? where’s y/n?” Classic asked.

Red’s skull whipped back, not finding the human on the floor with him as he’d expected. “i-i dunno! y/n?!”

“Here...” came the weak reply. 

Both skeletons homed in on the source quickly, which was oddly Red’s chest.

A tiny human lay on Red’s sternum sprawled as if having fallen. Y/n was severely reduced in size and dazed, but awake an aware much to both skeletons’ visible relief. Red scooped the sluggish human into his hands and did a Check on them. Their HP had definitely taken a hit, but they weren’t in the red. (Heh, nickname pun.)

The trio was collectively baffled, but the relief that everyone was ok for the most part was palpable. They now had the fun task of figuring out how to reverse this change. Oh. And the machine was smoldering, so that probably should be addressed too. This to do list was quickly looking very not fun.

-----

It was agreed upon (more like accepted, really) that a shrunken human really couldn’t live on their own in a house without any adaptations for such a small person. In the long term (Delta forbid this persisted long enough to need a long term solution) adjustments to your house could be arranged. In the short term, the skeleton pair would take turns hosting their human friend at their houses. 

Classic took the first night, as he and Vanilla (his brother) had a place closer than Red and his bro, Edge. At the moment, Vanilla was out of the house at a sleepover (arranged before the incident) with Undyne. This left Classic and the human alone, and eventually watching TV together. 

You had been set up with a fluffy hand towel for a blanket and set atop a pillow. Your pillow was on the couch cushion besides Classic, who sprawled with the grace of a sack of potatoes on his corner of the couch as he watched the cheesy sci-fi flick on screen. You were both making jokes throughout the movie, but as the night drew on and the ambient temperature dropped, you found your towel wasn’t quite warm enough. 

You were waiting for a break in dialogue to ask for another towel, but Classic beat you to it. He looked over as if he were about to crack a joke at the expense of the movie again, noticed your huddled posture, and paused the movie. “you cold, kiddo?”

“Yeah, a bit. Are there any more towels I could pile on, maybe?”

“i’ll do ya one better, c’mere.” He offered a flat palm, waiting patiently for you to board.

You didn’t really have to hesitate, trusting the guy already and curiosity spurred you on as well. He gently lifted you and your towel, dumped the pillow on the floor absently, and moved to sprawl flat over the whole couch instead. This left his chest as a flat plane, on which you were gently deposited.

You sat there, surprised at the new level of contact. Sure, you three nerds had crammed yourselves onto the loveseat at your place to watch TV or game together and ended up with hips mildly wedged against each other and shoulders bumping, but that was the closest you’d ever been. To now be seated on Classic’s sternum was new territory. 

“go ahead, get comfy and lay down. i don’t mind.” he encouraged. 

You took his advice, curling on your side facing the TV, towel still tented around you. Classic increased the warmth his body offered even more by taking the liberty to partially zip his ever-present blue jacket up to the point that your body was zipped in, but your head was outside the confines of the giant garment.

“better?” he asked.

“Yeah, much warmer.” You could easily affirm. 

While this was new territory, his casual attitude towards the whole thing dissipated the awkwardness you were feeling. Without that feeling, you really found you couldn’t complain. You liked cuddling anyhow, so finding a friend was also up for that was a boon in your book. 

The movie resumed without further incident, though you may or may not have totally fallen asleep on your friend. Eh, he didn’t seem to mind.

-----

It’d been a couple of weeks since the incident at the lab, and today was Red’s day for hosting y/n. Red was playing a campaign in a very story based game, with the human watching from their perch on his shoulder while Classic lounged on the other side of the couch. Playthroughs of games like this were common with their group, and the three would usually switch off who had the controller each session with the other two chipping in and offering advice. 

The biggest difference now was that y/n couldn’t take their turn with the controller, but they seemed content to snuggle into the fluff of Red’s hood, relishing in the warmth of their position by his cervical vertebrae. Ever since becoming small, they hadn’t been able to maintain their heat as well once the sun went down.

“I think I saw something on your left.” they offered. 

Red panned the camera that way to find an enemy, which was swiftly dealt with.

“thanks, pipsqueak.” Red said as he collected the dropped loot.

“No problem. Hey, do you think you could get the bathroom door for me?”

“oh, sure.” he paused the game and crossed over to the bathroom. He gently cupped the human into his hands and gingerly set them on the floor just before the threshold. Inside there was a bathroom setup of bitty furniture, an investment that had been made early on for each of the skeletons’ houses. Once they went inside, he closed the door without catching the latch so they could push it open once they were done. 

In the meantime, he approached the couch again where he saw Classic grinning at him.

“the hell you looking at?” Red groused.

Classic chuckled ��a softy.”

Red felt the light blush on his face, much to his chagrin “shut the hell up. s’not like you aint doing the same damn thing.”

“well yeah, but i don’t try to claim i’m not a softy.”

Red groaned as he flopped petulantly onto the couch. “can’t help it, they’re just so small. plus, this is all my fault anyhow.”

“woah, what?” Classic sat up straighter, humor gone from his voice. “what do you mean, your fault?”

“i was fucking with the wiring when the machine started up. it had to be something i did that caused it to go haywire and blast them. least i can do is help em out when they need it.”

Classic was about to address the mountain of guilt Red had built upon himself, but was cut off by a growl from Red’s stomach.

“you hungry?” Classic asked, though Red knew he already had the answer to that question based on the tone. 

Red buried his face in his hands, responding “no, and the human aint gonna believe the ‘i just need a snack’ lie forever. i just wanna protect them so damn bad.”

“yeah, they’re too smart for us. plus, i’ve been using the same lie.”

Red unburied his face, asking “instinct is cropping up for you too, eh?”

“yeah. especially since they get so cold at night. it went downhill fast as soon as i realized we had an easy fix.”

“tell me about it. they were so uncomfortable when they first changed, i didn’t wanna add to the discomfort by asking them about it.”

“well, the machine is back in one piece now so we can start working to reverse this mess come monday when the university lets us back in.”

“yeah, thank delta for that.”

Neither one realized that the human had heard some of their conversation from the bathroom, nor that they refused to accept their friends were apparently hiding something from them. 

The human became determined to confront this issue that very night.

-----

Classic had gone home by now and you were settled in your bed, more of a nest of towels and an electric heated blanket than a real bed. Nest was probably a better term. 

Red hadn’t come into the room yet (you slept in the same room as him so he could help you off the desk and to the bathroom if you needed to make a trip in the middle of the night) so you instead thought about what you’d overheard and what you were going to say. You’d caught only snippets due to distance, knowing something about an instinct they were both trying to hide from you, and you’d also heard “all my fault” and desperately wanted to address that if it was regarding you, which the conversation had seemed to.

Your planning was cut short when he entered, in a loose black muscle tank and flannel PJ bottoms pattered with jolly roger flags flying over a grey background. He flopped onto the bed without ceremony amongst his tangled blankets and immediately started scrolling on his phone. 

You steeled yourself a moment before calling for his attention, leaving your nest behind on the beside table to approach the skeleton closer. “Hey, Red?”

He put down his phone, looking at you with a questioning grunt.

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard you and Classic earlier...”

Red looked mildly alarmed “what exactly did you hear?”

“Enough to know you guys are hiding things from me, and it sounded like it was about me. And something about this being ‘all your fault’?”

Red sat up leaving his face a little higher than you, and only a foot of distance from your perch to his shoulder. “yeah, well it is my fault. since i was the one tinkering, the machine had to have been fucked up by me. and now...” he gestured limply at you. “i’m gonna do my damndest to fix it, but i hate that i did this at all.”

“Cut the crap.”

Red looked as if he’d been slapped. He instantly went from hunched and quiet, reluctant to open up to you at all (probably only caving so early knowing you would keep badgering), to sitting straight up, eyes locked on you in obvious shock.

“This was an accident. No one is at fault.” you stated emphatically.

He looked ready to protest, eyebrows tilting down almost as if angry.

You cut him off again. “You never intended for this to happen. I don’t hold you responsible, or anyone else for that matter. But that doesn’t even matter. You just said you were going to fix it. That matters way more than fretting over the past we can’t change. No more self pity. Not allowed. Got it, mister?” You wagged a finger at him, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

Red’s expression had mollified during your response, and he was the one who lost the game of eye contact chicken when he changed focus onto his folded hands in his lap. “forgot how much spunk you have, looks like the size change didn’t touch that.” he laughed a little.

“You mean you forgot what made us become friends in the first place? I’m hurt, Red.” You feigned pain, placing your hands over your heart.

His laugh was stronger this time “sorry, pipsqueak. won’t make that mistake again.” He ruffled your hair with a two fingers, which got you laughing too as you batted his invading phalanges away.

“you win. i’ll try to focus on fixing, not shitting on myself. fair deal?”

“Sounds good to me, bud.”

You two lapsed into silence.

You felt accomplished, but only half of your mystery had been solved. you decided to risk it and push farther. You’d back off if he resisted though, as you knew opening up at all was asking a lot of your somewhat emotionally constipated friend. “So... what was the instinct you two kept referring to?”

“damn, you’re relentless tonight!” he laughed again, flopping back onto his pillow.

“Well it’s got my two best friends in a twist over it, I wanna know what the hell is going on!” you defend, happy to keep up the more teasing tone.

“fine, fine. but you asked for it.”

“Yeah, yeah, lay it on me!”

He barked a laugh, “alright, pipsqueak. there’s a protective instinct that can rear up among monsters who’re less flesh based. it’s been triggered by your small size and our desire to help, but basically we wanna take you in.”

“Ya lost me right at the end, there.”

“figured i would. skeletons, and some other races of monsters, have the ability to take other creatures inside their own body harmlessly. more specifically, it’d be me and classic fighting the urge to eat you, but safely.”

“Safely.... eat?” The humor left your tone completely.

The humor was gone in his too, saying “yeah, that’s why we didn’t say anything. that reaction right there. but yes, basically eat minus the chewing bit. it’s safe and you’d be let out later, but the idea is to put us between you and danger. pretty damn literally. but a fleshbag like you wouldn’t be a fan and we both knew that going in. now ya know.” he looked away again, not so much looking at anything but apparently not wanting to look at you.

You thought back to all the times you’d caught either of them trying to sneak stomach growls past you or how oddly often they’d been claiming they’d needed a snack, or even that one time Red had tried (and failed) to play off getting caught wiping drool away. It all clicked into place and made so much more sense. But far more importantly, you didn’t like the resigned tone in his voice. 

You took a moment to process the new information in stifling silence, then asked “So... you thought I wouldn’t trust you?”

“what?” Red’s skull whipped around to fix you with a baffled look. “that’s not even close to what i said. i just meant it’d be pretty fuckin’ weird to you.”

“Yeah, well I went and made friends with two monsters after having shit luck with humans. I’d say I’m pretty open to new and weird.”

Red just blinked at you.

“If you want to, I’m unopposed. Go for it. You said it was triggered by a desire to help, and that it was safe. I trust you.”

Red’s brows were knit, sockets squinted a bit at you as he sat up. He stared you down like that, feeling like he was looking for the “gotcha” or any fear. You stared right back with nothing to hide, you weren’t afraid and didn’t want to take back what you’d said.

“yer sure?” he asked, sounding suspicious. 

“Yep.” You popped the P for emphasis.

“alright. i’ll let you out when you change your mind.” he shrugged, holding a hand out for you to board. 

You took that comment as a challenge and sat on his metacarpals confidently.

He brought you up toward his face while his free hand reached up from behind you, wrapping around your ribs under the arms. Using the new grip, he lifted you over his upturned face with your bare feet dangling in thin air over his opening mouth.

Ok, maybe your confidence had left a little. Your legs tucked up a bit in instinct, but you didn’t struggle when he guided your lower limbs into his mouth. You fought the urge to cringe away at the odd slick feeling of your feet sliding along his thick red tongue, or even more so at the feeling of his throat around your lower legs. 

You still trusted Red, that wasn’t the issue, so you decided to fight your instincts just as your friends had been fighting theirs and refused to show any fear. 

You pulled your arms in close to your chest when his grasping fingers left, and looked upwards as the world was sealed off by a wall of sharp teeth. Thankfully Red didn’t leave you waiting long, as a wet gulping sound drew your upper legs down with a surprisingly strong force. You clenched your teeth at that, barely keeping in the yelp of surprise. Another two gulps followed in quick succession, drawing your whole body into his waiting throat. The tissue around you pressed in, pushing you ever downward. 

For a brief moment during your decent, you felt a warm tingling sensation akin to the light buzz you felt the few times you’d come into contact with a magical construct (Red had lobbed a bone attack at you when you’d be particularly snarky a time or two, usually blue so you didn’t get hurt.) This tingle was much stronger, and you couldn’t describe it any better than saying it felt like Red. ...was that his soul? 

Your musing was cut off shortly after the buzz of magic left and you found yourself kicking a little in surprise when your legs had room to move. The rest of you spilled into the open space a moment later. 

You felt a bit dazed as you just sat there a moment. You were somewhat pulled back down to earth as you felt a pressure coming from outside. It was immediately obvious the pressure was his hand pressing in at you, and the hand started moving, rubbing you from outside in soothing circles, slowly moving up and down your back. Even if you were out of it, you had the wherewithal to realize that was incredibly cute. 

“alright, buyer’s remorse set in?” he asked.

“No...” you breathed, not quite done processing your current situation.

“you ok in there?” his tone was more concerned, the rubbing stopped but the pressure of his hand remained.

“Y-yeah!” You shook your head as if that would help clear the fog, clicking back into reality. “I’m ok. Wow, this is just... a lot.”

“sure you don’t want out?”

“Do you want me out?”

“...didn’t say that...” he mumbled.

You laughed, which earned you a half hearted growl.

“Hey, is it ok if I move around a little? I really want to, uh, check the place out now that I’m here if that’s cool.”

“oh, sure. i don’t care.”

He removed his hand, which left you free to experiment. Call it childish if you wanted, but you really wanted to feel out your new surroundings in an exceedingly literal sense.

-----

Holy shit this went so much better than he’d ever thought it’d go. The human was inside, no panic, and their soul had settled from the anxiety he’d been feeling during their decent. Guess they’d gone and proven him and Classic wrong. Again. Maybe he should expect that by now.

For now he laid back, feeling them slide back to the new lowest point as he got comfortable. He also very much heard their tiny squeak when they startled at the movement, which brought out a smile on him. He felt them quickly readjust, then felt a small point of pressure pushing outwards. A tiny moving bump raised in his shirt, showing where their small hands were pushing out. He didn’t protest, finding this all quite amusing.

On a whim, he used two fingers to push at that little raised bump. He heard them laugh, and then the bump showed up on a new spot, disappeared, and showed up again in yet another. This was a bizarre version of whack a mole, but he did play along until they ended the game with a breathy giggle. 

They were moving again, probably trying to stand given the two distinct points of pressure. They slowly wobbled a few steps before he distinctly felt the impact of them falling over. 

He laughed aloud at the “I’m good!” they called out.

Their movements inside were calm, but distinctly curious. It was all highly endearing on top of feeling good. The quieting of the protective instinct at last was also a welcome absence, leaving him feeling comfortable and secure. He didn’t really try all that hard to stifle his subsequent yawn. 

The responding, smaller yawn from inside was a bit of a surprise.

“tired?”

“We were getting ready for bed, dingus.”

“fair point. we turning this into a sleepover or you going back to your own bed?”

There was a pause, then “Fuck it, sleepover.”

“fine by me, pipsqueak. g’night.”

“Goodnight, bonehead.”

He felt their weight settle, then relax as they slipped into sleep. He decided to follow them, hands folded over his stomach to protect the precious cargo inside.

[lovestrucked-again]

Neighbours | J.Jaehyun

NCT m.list

Summary: The fire alarm went off at 3am and now the cute guy from next door is standing next to me in his boxers. 

Pairing: Fuckboy Jaehyun X Reader Word Count: 1.9k Warning: Fluff

Request: hi! it's first time requesting omg but can u please do an imagine where it's y/n's first time to make out with anybody and fuckboy!jaehyun got so soft? thank u!!

A/N: Thanks for your request and I’m so sorry I took so long on this but I hope this makes up for it! I had fun writing this and intertwining the scenarios with this. 

_______

“What is it this time?!” You scream into your pillow, rolling over to turn your side lamp on. This was the third night in a row with the fire alarms going off from the unit across yours. You rub your eyes, trying to wake yourself up from your drowsy state before checking the time on your phone, 3:02am.

You let out a heavy sigh, wrapping a robe over your silk night dress and slip on your bunny slippers. You take your phone off charge seeing it at 100% and trudge over to the door, intending to go have a proper look at the unit with the blaring alarm this time.

When you swing open your front door, the lights in the hall flicker on and your eyes adjust to the faint lighting. The building was built like a square, the inside being hollow for sunlight to shine through and units surrounding the sides. You take a few steps closer to the railing, squinting into the darkness, attempting to locate the unit.

The sound outside of your home is louder, the noise violently invading your eardrums. You can see a few lights turning on as people appear on the floors above and below, pointing in the same direction you’re squinting. What a pain.

“Y/N?”

You don’t hear the sound of your next-door neighbour’s door opening so when the sudden voice calls out your name your snapped out of your trance and jump in surprise, whipping your head around to look.

“O-oh my god!” You yelp, spinning back around just as fast to face the darkness. Jaehyun leaps into action at your sudden response, running over to check on you while letting his door slam shut.

“What is it? Are you okay? Y/N?” Jaehyun’s voice is right next to you as your face is buried into your palms, heat rising on your cheeks. You take a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself, wanting your voice to be clear and strong before you answer.

“Is that you’re pjs?” you ask, your voice squeaking. It wasn’t the exact words you had planned to say but your point was made. Jaehyun takes a moment to glance at himself before chuckling lightly, taking a step back.

“Sorry, I was just going to take a peek through the door.” Jaehyun explains, raising his hands up in defence “Didn’t intend on actually coming outside like this.”

You’d talked with your neighbour before, meeting him on the day you moved in. He offered to help you move in and show you around the neighbourhood but you had politely declined, your parents always warning you to avoid strangers.

“No your u-uh, you’re okay.” You state, letting your hands fall awkwardly to your sides. It’d been a while since you’d seen him. His hair was tousled around, covering a little of his eyes that reflected the moonlight in the dark. Your eyes skimmed around quickly, darting between his bare toned chest and to the door behind him, then back to him.

“The alarm woke you up?” He asks, not feeling embarrassed at all standing in the open in just a pair of boxers.

“Yeah, wanted to see which unit it is.” You explain, your eyes glancing around in circles, avoiding him. Why can’t he see how inconvenient his appearance is making this conversation. You can only pray the dim lighting prevents him from seeing how tense you are.

“Maybe give them a piece of your mind,” Jaehyun tells you, throwing a few fake punches in the air.

“Sure..” You mumble out, definitely not what I’d do but okay.

The alarm suddenly stops, the peaceful silence of the night now becoming more distinct than ever. The few grumbling neighbours who had come out during the event also disappearing back into their homes.

“Well I better head inside, it’s freezing out here,” Jaehyun says.

“Yeah good idea.” You suggest, hoping to go back into the safety and warmth of your own bed. You lean against the railing, waiting for him to leave first as you stare out at the moon for a bit longer.

“Fuck.” Jaehyun murmurs

“What is it?” You ask, turning around to look at the back of his figure as he plays with the knob on his front door.

“I think I locked myself out,” He sighs, letting his head fall against the door with a soft bang.

Time felt like it stilled as you let your expression fall. Thoughts were running through your head, Should I offer my place? I can’t leave him out here can I? Ah goddamn it.

“I guess you can stay at mine for the night? I’ve got a couch and some spare sheets if you want.” You offer, letting out a shaky breath. For a moment, there was no words exchanged, just the heavy beating of your heart and you second guess your offer.

He lets out a sigh of relief, turning around to face you, “Really? Thanks that’d be great babe.”

“It’s fine, can’t have you freezing out here.” You tell him, staring straight at the ground as you speed walk back to your door, avoiding his gaze. You couldn't tell anymore, was your face so flushed from the cold or was it his words. Babe.

You fumble at the front door, finally unlocking it as he stands behind you patiently, waiting for you to lead him inside your home.

“I’ll get you some sheets.” You tell him, running into your room to find them. The spare minute you have to yourself lets you hear just how fast your hearts racing. Fuck is this a good idea? Your pulled back out of your trance when you his voice coming from the living room.

“Can I take a seat?” He calls out.

“Yeah, make yourself comfy.” You yell back, grabbing an old shirt and some pants from deep underneath your drawers – which you personally never wanted to see ever again. You walk back out and Jaehyun’s sitting on the couch, staring at the photo frames along the bookshelf.

“Cute photos.”

“Thanks,” You smile at the compliment, they were pictures of you and your siblings from a family trip back before you moved out.

“Is this for me?” Jaehyun asks, pointing at the pile of fabrics still in your hands.

“Yeah, hopefully it fits.” Before he’s able to say anything you walk back into your room to find the bedsheets. Found it. The only spare bedsheet you had was a pink fairy bedsheet used on the occasions your friends came for sleepovers. Whatever, it’ll do. You grab a spare pillow from your bed and switch the pillow covers, throwing the old one on the floor.

“A guy’s shirt?” Jaehyun asks, an eyebrow raised with a hidden smirk.

“It was my ex’s,” you emphasise, taking a seat on the couch beside his now fully clothed figure.

“You’ve dated before?” he asks, the shock evident in his voice.

“Of course I have, why do you sound so surprised?”

“Sorry that’s not what I meant, you just seem so reserved and,” Jaehyun takes a moment to think, looking to the side, “quiet? Just a little surprised is all.”

“Well I’m not that reserved.” You fight back, feeling like you’d just been titled as boring, “What about you? How’s your girlfriend?”

“I’m single actually.” He stares at you with an amused expression, leaning against the couch as he waits for you to explain.

“Oh, I thought you had a girlfriend...” you mumble out.

“What makes you think that?” He asks, surprised that you actually kept an eye on him.

“Well, I see like different girls coming over all the time so I just assumed...” you explain, suddenly feeling a little ashamed of how rushed you were to judge his lifestyle.

“What can I say? I suppose I’m just that charming; I can’t help that so many ladies like me.” He says, leaning back against the armchair of the couch, shoulders raised.

“What a liar.” You mutter to yourself, hiding your giggle with a cough.

“What’d you say babe?” He asks, scooting closer to you.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” you wave off, leaning on the armchair on your side.

“Did you call me a liar?”

“What? No, of course not, how could I do such a thing?” You gasp, sarcasm dripping out.

It’s hard to notice in the darkness but his figure suddenly launches at you and you scream as his hands start running along your body, tickling at all your sides.

“Stop Jaehyun! I’m going to cry,” You wheeze out, laughing as the tears start forming in your eyes.

“You bought it upon yourself!” He yells over your laughter.

“Stop!” you cry out, trying to fight back as he stays hovering over you while your squirming against the couch.

“Make me.”

And for some unknown reason, all your buried confidence that you weren’t even aware you had, brings you to do the craziest thing, you kiss him.

Jaehyun stops immediately, his hands frozen against your skin. He doesn’t move and you pull away quickly, embarrassed.

“Sor-” Before your able to finish your sentence, Jaehyun wraps his arm around your neck, bringing you closer to him as his lips press against yours. His kisses are soft, the opposite of what you wanted right now. Your hands knot into fists around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him harder against you as he lets out a low soft groan.

It’s not until you feel his tongue, pushing against your lips, begging for entrance which brings you back to reality. Your hands release his shirt and you place them against his chest, creating some distance between your bodies.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“I u-uh, I’ve never actually made out with someone before.” You mumble out, the darkness saving the flushing red on your face from being seen. Jaehyun doesn't laugh, he takes what you say seriously. On the inside though, it drives him crazy, realising how innocent and pure you are.

“It’s okay.” He smiles, resting his hand below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as he smashes his lips against yours again, your breaths mingling. You run a finger down his spine, bringing his body closer to you as the gap disappears.

His insistent mouth parting your shaking lips, send wild tremors along your nerves, bringing out the sensations you’d never known were possible. The minutes pass feeling like seconds as you realise you’ll never have enough of this, of him. He’s everywhere, hands up your back then around your waist, suddenly kissing you harder, deeper with a desperate urge.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers, prolonging each word as if to savour them. Your heart flutters at his voice as your hands reach to cup the sides of his face. He brings his hands to yours still wrapped around his cheeks. Staring directly at you. “What have you done to me?” He murmurs, kissing the palm of your hand.

“Can’t help it, I’m charming like that.” You giggle, grinning up at him. Jaehyun lets out a laugh, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“You’re mine now.”

“All those girls will be absolutely devastated to find out you’re taken,” you tease and he lets out a scoff, pulling you up into his chest so your weight is now on him.

“That’s not my problem.”

[wildflower-alex]

Chapter 4

note: i'm slowly getting into writing again. i want everything to have some sense before we move to the next chapter. like this if you want me to continue it, kisses

“Where the fuck are you?!” Christine screamed at Sonia.

She was trying to have a good time, chatting with various people inside the house, taking small sips from her drink and trying to be as pleasant as she could while analyzing the surroundings. The house was full of decorating items, such as small statues, pillows, paintings and some musical instruments hanging on the walls, all covered in a warm, dim light. It seemed that anyone who lived in there had an old soul type of personality. The living room was the most spacious room, as Calum presented, being full of music related items. Near the black velour couch, in the left corner, a small table was stuffed with vinyls ranging from Frank Sinatra to Green Day. The wall on the back had a small picture of Calum and the other guys from the band, as she recognized them. He seemed happy in it, actually all of them did.

The ringing sound of her cellphone brought her back to the reality she had back home. Christine was calling.

“Hi, I was taking a walk" she lied. "Why are you screaming like that?”

“Come the fuck back, Matthew got in a fight and he has to go to the hospital!”

“What?! Why??”

“Just come back at the bar, I can’t handle it!” Christine yelled and hung up on her.

“What happened?” Calum asked, as he was standing behind her, listening to what her friend said.

“I don’t know” she stumbled. “I have to go” she added and a sudden terror invaded her mind. What could’ve happened? Did he got into a fight? That was the only explanation. “I have to go” she said again, “Sorry”

“Then let’s go. What? I’m not leaving you alone, on the streets” he said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I really do not understand what happened, Matt. Actually, to be more precise, I really, really doubt that’s the way things worked out” Sonia said, fumes now spitting out of her mouth.

“Oh my God, Sonia! I already told ya, I was drinking, this girl happened to be around me and Christine and she asked her something, then asked me something and then, out of the blue, this massive guy comes to me and punches me in the throat” Matt replied. He was also tired to explain his side of the truth, but he had to.

“Just like that?” she asked again.

“You know what? I can’t BELIEVE you dare to ask me these stupid questions, don’t you see I’m in pain?”

“Oh, shut up. You nearly have a bruise” she replied and left the emergency room to get some air.

Calum was waiting on a bench outside of the hospital, smoking a cigarette and looking through his phone. She took a seat next to him.

“You want some?” he asked as he was opening his pack to offer her one.

“Yes, thanks”. She lit up her cigarette and looked at him. “Calum?”

“Yes, honey eyes?” he replied, now his eyes onto hers.

“I’m sorry for this, you should not be here, it’s not fair I dragged you around to this fucking mess of a boyfriend”

“It’s not like we’re talking about fairness, I mean, yeah it’s odd for anyone in my place, considering the facts, but I am here for you” he replied.

“I’m just sorry, I wish…”

“…things were different? Yeah, I do believe so” he continued.

Sonia looked at her boots, then at her legs. She really put effort into trying to look good that night. Her hands, though, were somewhat itchy, something she used to have whenever she was stressed.

“Calum, do you know any hotels in this area?”

“I do know some”

“Then, please, let’s take a cab” she replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sonia packed all of her things in a matter of minutes. She put everything in bags and purses, locked the door and left the key at the reception, mentioning the other person in the room will come back later to pick it. Back in the cab, Calum and the driver were having a small talk when she opened the trunk and put her belongings inside of it.

“Now, let’s go to the hotel” she said and Calum nodded, while giving the address to the driver. He then smiled at her and kissed her hand once again. It seemed he really enjoyed kissing her hands.

“And from now on, besides from the times we we’re enjoying eachothers’ company, the past is left behind. I mean, if you want to…”

“Oh, shush it, I got it. Let’s keep the odd things behind” Calum concluded.

The hotel room was nice, it had a double sized bed, a small sofa and elegant decorations on the walls. The balcony was merging with the night view of the seaside, as the moon was shining across the sea. It was 2 AM and Sonia felt so tired already, as if she got old by 10 years.

“Ugh, the bed is so comfy” she said. “And the drinks are buzzing my head”.

“Haha, now we’re switching places?” Calum laughed at her as he laid face to face with her.

“Yeah, I’m not that fun. Not anymore, alt least”

“Yeah, but at least you’re cute. And you look gorgeous dressed like that”

“Thanks, we’re not…”

“Oh my God, please, stop thinking about that, nothing will happen” he howled and made her burst into laughter. “Ok, I’m gonna sleep on the couch, if you don’t mind”.

“No, no… stay here” she rapidly replied, as she hung onto his hand. “Stay here and tell me about yourself”

“There’s nothing new anyone hasn’t heard of” he replied.

“You’re wrong. I want to know the dirty little secrets that make you who you are. And whose house was that?”

“It’s mine”

“And you just leave it like that?”

“The guys have the keys and I cand trust them. Actually, I trust their girlfriends more, but you got the idea” he replied.

“Mhm” Sonia mumbled as he eyes were already closed.

Calum took a look at her, analyzing every feature she had. The few beauty marks she had, the strong, straight eyebrows that made her look surprised even in her sleep. He slowly moved closer to her and kissed her forehead.

“I’m sorry” she slowly said.

“For what?”

“For not meeting you the first day I came in here”

“I am too, for not meeting you since you came in here”

Intro

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part ten

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

  Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!

Die Hard and stolen glances

After making sure Sarah ate a hearty lunch, Martha took her leave, worry still lingering in her eyes. She’d made her friend promise to call Mallory as soon as possible. Sarah decided she’d contact her tomorrow at their usual time. And while she always looked forward to talking with the woman who’d raised her through her teen years, she felt dread creep up at the thought of having to either lie or tell her the truth and deal with the consequences. Telling Mallory her abilities had resurfaced would be equivalent to purchasing a ticket back home. And that was the one thing she could not do. Not until this situation with Vought was resolved.

Putting those thoughts to rest, her mind moved onto the other pressing concern: her upcoming movie night with Black Noir. It felt silly to think—even more when said out lout, but they bonded over their love for action movies. She shrugged her coat on and wrapped a scarf loosely around her neck before heading out of the house. The neighborhood she lived in wasn’t extremely well kept and trash often littered the sidewalks, clustering in the corners. She’d been skeptical when the previous owner had given her a tour. However, she soon realized she didn’t mind, and the affordable price and relatively quiet environment ultimately won her over. Being right outside of the city, the housing complexes were low rise, about two floors high, some three. She had a view on the city and could easily access the university on her bike. Sure, it took about fifteen minutes, but the peace and absence of the city’s obnoxious traffic in that small, rundown neighborhood made it worth it.

She soon reached her destination: the nearest small shop, “Dave’s Grocers.” Immediately, she headed for the party necessities section, searching for straws amid the colorful shelves. She soon grew impatient, scanning the items multiple times.

“Hello, welcome to Dave’s Grocers,” a young employee greeted her. “Is there anything I can I help you with?”

“Hi, yeah actually I’m looking for straws,” she glanced back at the shelves, “but I can’t seem to find any.”

The young man—whose name tag read Bernard in a squiggly handwriting—looked through the shelves himself before confirming her suspicions.

“I can check in the back if we had anything come in,” he offered.

“Yeah that would be great, thank you.”

With that she followed him and waited at the front counter as he disappeared into the back. He soon returned with a box in his arms.

“I found a box of them,” he smiled genuinely. He set the box down and opened it up.

The first thing that registered in Sarah’s mind was, “They’re pink.” She looked to him for confirmation.

“Magenta to be precise.”

She pushed some of her hair behind her ears. Black Noir had refused a drink last time because he wouldn’t take his mask off. She figured that by offering him a strawed drink, he’d accept it. She was sure she’d seen him drinking from a straw before, either in passing at Vought or on television. She wanted it to be a thoughtful act, and here she was thinking of offering him a pink straw.

Sure, it was just a color, right? Their generation was past binary color preferences—pink for girls, blue for boys. They were over it, right? A lot of men see no issue in wearing pink or purple these days. But Black Noir was no ordinary man. 

What was initial horror, soon morphed into amusement. She became curious of  his reaction. 

“How much” she questioned, eyes glued to the intensely colored straws.

“Uh,” he checked the side of the cardboard to be sure, “a dollar and fifty cents for a pack of twenty.”

She nodded, making up her mind, “I’ll take one.”

After paying he asked her to hold up, scratching the back of his neck.

“Could I get your number?”

She eyed him in suspicion, the man from the previous night flashing in front of her eyes. But then she quickly softened. He’d been helpful and seemed like a sweet guy.

“Look, I’m sorry but I’m seeing someone,” she slightly twisted the truth.

“Ahh, should’ve known,” he looked down with a disappointed smile. “He a good guy,” he asked.

Sarah wanted to choke right there. He’s Edgar’s damn hitman and has probably killed more people than she could count.

She simplified her answer with, “Yeah, he’s great,” she held up the straws, “these are actually for him.”

Bernard laughed lightly, “Bold. That’s why you looked worried when you first saw them, huh?”

She chuckled, “Yeah, he’s in for a surprise.”

After waving goodbye, she took her leave and headed back home.

.

When eight o’clock rolled around, Sarah was ready. She’d fixed her hair, her dark brown coils forming a soft cloud over her shoulders. A light coat of mascara was what she settled for, deciding to forego any other makeup. This was a casual meeting between two people who were barely acquaintances, she reminded herself. She changed into comfy clothes, slipping on her best pair of black sweatpants with a matching sweatshirt. Soft socks were a must.

Finally, she made sure her necklace poked out of her top. It had been her mother’s, who’d passed it down to her when she’d first been hospitalized. It was meant as a reminder that her parents were always with her and that they’d fight her disease together. It was a symbol of hope. Now, it was a small piece of her parents she kept on her always. Sometimes, it gave her a sense of peace as she recalled memories of family dinners or the playground. Other times, it fueled the guilt and deep-seated hate she felt towards the institution that made her into the monster she is. She fiddled with the black pearl, crowned by a gold fringe.

Heading back into the living room, she planned to wait for him on the couch. And there he was, standing in the middle of her living room.

This time she didn’t jump or freeze, already growing accustomed to his sudden appearances. She was grounded, she refused to be afraid. She thought it was foolish to not fear such a dangerous threat. So, she acknowledged it, but left it in a corner of her mind where she could see it but deny it control of her actions or reactions.

“Hey,” she greeted nodding at him, “how are you,” she asked.

He nodded at her and she quickly handed over their black notebook for him to reply.

Fine. You

She smiled, “I’m doing okay.”

He watched her movements, fluid and more controlled than last time. What he’d witnessed the night before had given him a new perspective, and he desperately wanted to question her about what happened. But at that point, he’d be admitting himself as a stalker. He stayed silent.

She nodded towards the couch, “You can sit, the movie’s already in,” she said turning her television on. “I made some popcorn, I’m not sure if you wanted to eat anything.”

He sat and simply watched her. Sarah ducked into the kitchen before she ended up losing her confidence. She emerged with a big bowl of popcorn, inhaling the smell, and humming a tune. She set the bowl on the coffee table, glancing at the massive man before heading back into the kitchen to get their drinks.

“So please bear with me,” she said moving towards him with the two drinks behind her back. “I know you aren’t comfortable with pulling your mask, so I went and got something to help with that…” she trailed off.

He tilted his head slightly, and she imagined an inquisitive expression had formed on his face.

She moved the drinks to the front, careful to not spill any.

“I know the straws are bold…” she stated the obvious. “Would you like some?”

He assessed the situation—the straws, the soft blush on her cheeks, her frame engulfed by her sweatshirt. And he found himself nodding, if only to put her at ease. He was unexpectedly moved by her thoughtfulness, a tightness forming in his chest.

She exhaled the breath she’d been holding, “Great, here you go,” she said brightly.

She grabbed a throw blanket to wrap herself in and moved towards the other couch chair in the room. He frowned. She was cold? She looked so much smaller in her home clothes, and he felt an itch to gather her in his arms. He ran at a higher temperature anyway, he’d probably feel like a thermostat to her.

“Do you want a blanket?”

He blinked at her, and she too found it amusing that this massive dark man might want one of her small light blue covers.

He shook his head. I’m fine and followed it with a thumbs up.

She nodded and snuggled into the chair, diagonally to his right.

She grabbed the remote and pointed it to the screen, pressing play.

And so, they watched the movie, constantly exchanging hurried, shy glances. Once, she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, and she saw him discreetly lift his mask, pick some popcorn and drop them in his mouth. He immediately covered his face again and chewed without making a sound. She was disappointed that in the dark she missed it. At one point, Sarah was surprised to see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. She too laughed, and often commented her favorite scenes. She hoped he didn’t mind. She just couldn’t seem to help herself. And he secretly loved it. He enjoyed her voice, especially when she was talking to him.

He watched her snuggle deep under the blanket, her sweatshirt sleeves pulled over her hands. He watched her laugh and comment the scenes they both knew by heart. In the dark room, he watched her more than the movie itself. The colored light projecting from the screen flitted across her cheeks, her attention captured by John McClane as he took down Gruber’s team in the Nakatomi Tower.

Black Noir was rather disappointed when the credits rolled and she rose to switch the lights back on. He perked up when she spoke, “Always a classic, huh?”

He nodded with enthusiasm.

She recited with a deeper voice, “Nine million terrorists in the world and I gotta kill one with feet smaller than my sister.”

Sarah was pleasantly surprised when he clapped his hands and wrote Bravo.

She curtsied, “Why thank you.”

She must be losing her mind, joking around with one of the most dangerous men in the world. And yet, right then she couldn’t bring herself to fear him. Black Noir was still holding his drink, hot pink straw sticking out like a sore thumb.

She took the last sip of her own drink, and embarrassedly stopped when she began to slurp loudly.

“Oh god, sorry. My friend absolutely hates it when I do that.”

He looked over as she brought her legs up into a cross-legged position. And then he did something that surprised them both.

He gave her a thumbs up and loudly sucked on his straw, emitting the same sounds she’d just made. Sarah stared wide-eyed and began to laugh.

He wrote. Sorry :)

“We’re both scandalous—just scandalous,” she smiled.

She gathered their empty cups, but he stopped her before she could get up. She looked so comfortable and he swiftly stood and placed a hand on her shoulder, indicating she should stay seated. Sarah looked up at him shocked and suddenly reminded of his murderous tendencies. He gently took the cups from her hands and immediately went to wash them in her kitchen sink. He felt rather than saw her enter the small kitchen leaning her back against the counter beside him, watching him work. He stilled and she quickly realized why, his big, dark gloves left on the counter.

She felt like they had entered a bubble, a very unstable bubble that could burst at any second.

She whispered softly, “It’s okay, you don’t have to hide here.”

He stared down in the now empty sink. He finally brought his hands up and over the edge, slowly reaching for the gloves. His skin was a toffee brown, his long fingers rough and calloused. She felt the sudden urge to reach out and touch him, assure herself that indeed there is a man under the suit. She quickly swallowed the thought and filed it away.

He looked at her and she held his concealed gaze for a few, long seconds. She wondered what thoughts were whizzing across his brain.

“Who knows what you look like?”

He merely stared at her. She tried, “Anyone?”

He shook his head no.

She continued speaking softly, finally looking away. “But isn’t that lonely? I mean not being comfortable enough in another’s presence to be seen as you are?”

She knew this was a sensitive topic for him and feared she’d taken it a step too far. But fortune favored the bold, and she wanted to understand the silent man in front of her.

He promptly left the room, and she sagged against the counter. She thought he’d left, and instead there he was returning black notebook in hand. He came to stand next to her, so close her head reached his shoulders. He too leaned back against the counter mirroring her stance. He scribbled against the paper.

Are we friends?

She smiled confused, “Uhm I’d like to think so, but it's not something you just decide, it just happens when you enjoy being around a person. Do you see me as a friend?”

He stared at her for the longest, and she found herself glancing behind him at the knives stand further down on the counter. She could feel her heart beating loudly and grew worried that she’d truly overstepped his boundaries.

Relief flooded her when he finally nodded.

When can I see you again?

He found he needed to leave, he needed to think somewhere he could focus. Those dark chocolate eyes of hers disarmed him, and he felt vulnerable under her gaze. The fact she’d seen his hands had shaken him. But she hadn’t recoiled, he reminded himself.

Sarah thought about it, “How does Wednesday evening sound? Same time?”

He nodded. 

He wasn’t sure what friends did when parting. He’d observed that some hug, some shake hands, some wave... What stage were they at? He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate in this situation.

He drew his characteristic smiley face on the notebook for her to find, and flipped it closed. He felt shaky under his collected exterior, and her perfume sent him over the edge. He twisted and pulled her close into his chest, an arm around her back as he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head, inhaling her vanilla leave-in conditioner. Just as quick, he pulled away, straightened his posture and walked out of the room, leaving the notebook on the table.

Sarah was bewildered. Her heart was racing, her thoughts jumbled into an incoherent mess. She stood there for a couple minutes. But what truly surprised her, was that she felt a fluttering sensation in her stomach, a blush creeping up her neck. You have got to be kidding me, she thought to herself.

What was absent, instead, was the enveloping warmth she felt before a breakout. Maybe she wasn’t in danger around him, after all.

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724 ​  @proximio-5 @damiminator @omegahighendpro @rpgluvr95 @sweetrabbitteamx

[cl-01-kestis]

My Little Rebel - Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Female Rebel!Reader | Part 5

Summary: after a successful get away with the help of a surprising ally, Cal helps you get back to Yavin and finally confesses his feelings.

Warnings: Sexual tension tbh

So far, Cal’s escape plan was going surprisingly well, you managed to slip into many hiding spots and sneak around the hanger for a short while before even remotely getting close to the Tie Fighter.

The hanger was thankfully quiet, the occasional purge trooper stalked the area as well as a few stormtroopers, blasters clung tight to their white chest plates as they skulked about. It was risky trying to blend in in a room so white. You still wore your green uniform from the Rebel attack on Yavin and it amped up your appearance even more. You couldn’t take down a stormtrooper, take his armour and use it to blend in, that was too obvious. You just stuck to following Cal as best as you could without being seen.

You quickly and hastily walked up the stairs to the boarding dock, Cal’s hand was intertwined with yours as he dragged you along the platform and finally reached the Tie furthest away from you. Cal signaled for you to duck down and hide for a few moments as he prepared the Tie for flight and fumbled with the control panel on the side of the railing.

“Come on...” He mumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowed as he put all his concentration into hijacking the Tie quickly and carefully. Your head whipped back and forth from Cal to the stairs, biting your nails nervously as time passed, the tension increasing as one of the doors around the platform opened, revealing none other than the Purge Trooper you met a while back, Costra. Your first reaction would’ve been to panic, but you tilted your head to the side as he jumped when he saw you and Cal, walking towards you instead of shooting either of you with his blaster.

“Excuse me, Eleventh Brother-“ The Purge Trooper barely even finished his sentence as the tip of a scarlet lightsaber was pointed right at his neck.

“Wait! I can help you” Costra put his hands up after cautiously placing his double sided spear on the ground, his hands raising up to take off his black and red helmet. You stood up and smiled at Cal, looking around to make sure no one saw you as you nodded at Costra.

“Cal, it’s okay, I know him” You reassured the Inquisitor who’s yellow eyes were bright with warning and unease. Cal looked into your eyes, wincing as he saw you were telling the truth and hesitantly lowered his lightsaber from Costra’s neck.

You looked back to the Purge Trooper, smiling as you came face to face with a Mirialan with light yellow skin and blue eyes, black hair shaped into a buzz cut. Cal inspected Costra intensely, looking him up and down with narrow eyes until he let out a sigh and pointed to the doors.

“Make sure no one comes through those doors, if so, warn me” Cal ordered, earning a sharp ‘yes sir’ from Costra who held his helmet to his hip and picked his spear back up, walking back a bit to avoid suspicion and putting back on his helmet. You nodded to Costra, offering him a kind, grateful smile.

“Thank you” You whispered, seeing Costra nod in reply as he clung to his spear tightly, looking around and slacking his posture so he didn’t look as tense. You looked back at Cal, creeping forward to see how he was doing and realising he was fumbling with the buttons and getting frustrated. You chuckled, nudging him to the with your hip and positioning yourself in front of the panel.

“Allow me” You said, making Cal smirk and roll his eyes before turning around and looking at Costra to give you space to do your thing. It was moments like these where you thanked the Maker and your mother for your skills in engineering and mechanics. It barely took you a few seconds until the hatch of the Tie opened and the curling cables disconnected from underneath the ship.

“We gotta move” You whispered to Cal who nodded and ran up to the Tie, ushering him into the cramped ship and turning around to give Costra a final glance.

“I’ll never forget this day, Costra, thank you” You walked up to him and hugged him quickly, patting his back and afraid of what might happen if you left him here. Costra hugged you back, careful that the ends of his spear wouldn’t electrocute you. You hesitantly pulled away, patting Costras shoulder before running back to the Tie and getting inside. Costra walked up to the panel as soon as the Tie’s hatch shut over.

Inside the Tie, you and Cal were struggling to share a seat as he fired up the engine and his fingers pressed many different interesting-looking buttons. There were to many, it made your head hurt looking at all the switches. You fought the urge to fiddle with them though, it took a lot not to ask Cal all about the functions of the Tie. You’d never been in one after all, so this was a whole new experience for you.

Cal detached the ship from the docks and immediately flew out of the hanger, the loud roar of the ship echoing as you looked out the back of the ship, trying to find Costra. The Imperial base grew smaller and smaller, right up until you were exiting the atmosphere and it was nothing but a spec within the land of the planet it was located on. You recognised the planet, you could tell it was Endor because of the endless green coating the planets -or in fact moons - surface. You’d been to Endor once within your career as a Rebel, you were called in as backup for a ground battle between the Rebels, Ewoks, and Imperials.

You shifted in your seat.

“That’s my leg” Cal scoffed, moving his thigh and spreading it slightly, causing your hips to accidentally slide between his legs. You were mortified at the amount of personal space within the Tie, the air was stuffy and you were getting hot by being so close to Cal, sharing body heat which didn’t seem to help.

“You know, you could sit here, it would be more comfy and less cramped” Cal winked at you, tongue sliding over his bottom lip as his eyes darkened and triggered a harsh blush on your face. You looked away from Cal and outside the Tie windshield, both of you were surrounded by stars as the ship flew in any direction. Cal stopped steering as you flew in and out of light speed to get away from Endor and avoid being caught by any Imperial squadron.

You had to admit, his lap was comfortable, but he was a cocky son of a bitch. You knew him for such a short time but you felt like you already knew every little quirk about him, from the soft gestures to the winks and devious smirks that made your stomach flutter. Even down to the way his attitude changed as soon as his eyes landed on you, or when others were around; like inside the prison. There were a few days where he unintentionally hurt your feelings by acting so cold and blunt towards you in front of the purge troopers and sometimes another Inquisitor if they were passing by. But he’d make up for it with soft apologies and sweet words that were nothing but white noise to you.

“Is this okay?” You grumbled, adjusting yourself so your back was against Cal’s chest and you were positioned between his legs, your head level with his neck as he steered the Tie.

“Of course it is, are you comfortable?” Cal chuckled, leaning his head down and wrapping his free arm around your waist as his breath flushed against the skin on your revealed neck. You nodded shyly, consumed by the sudden silence within the cramped Tie and feeling Cal’s arms tighten around your waist.

Your breathing could be heard, heart pounding in your ears as you felt Cal’s face move down to the place between your shoulder and neck, his rough lips pressing a feather light kiss onto your skin which was rising with goosebumps. You held back a whimper at the feeling of his lips skimming against your neck, peppering soft kisses on at random areas around the side of your neck and shoulder. Cal rubbed circles in the sides of your hips, soothing you and trying to diffuse the tension somehow, but he was only making it worse. Your thighs clung together and you felt like you were burning, not specifying where, but you felt like you were about to combust with the gentle sensations Cal was giving you.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against Cal as he continued trailing his lips along your hot skin, smiling as you felt him shift around in your thoughts to see what you were thinking, to see if you were comfortable with what was going on. His lips curled against your skin, feeling the enjoyment you got from his soft touches and leaning up from your neck.

“You’re trembling, gorgeous” Cal’s voice was different than before, more deep and husky as he whispered close to your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t realise it until now, but he was right. Your body was shaking with adrenaline as a result of Cal’s intimate actions and you felt embarrassed by it. You probably looked strange from his point of view, but you don’t to this stuff, you don’t spend time romancing with other people and you haven’t ever been with anyone before. So this was all new to you.

“I-I just don’t do this stuff” You mumbled, a hint of humiliation lacing its way into your quiet and shy voice that made Cal smile and nod.

“I understand, do you want me to stop?” Cal asked with a genuine tone to his voice, leaning his head back so it hit the neck rest of the pilot chair, offering you space which was the opposite of what you wanted to happen. You turned your head around to look at Cal, back still against his chest as he looked down at you with a comforting smile.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it” You whispered, eyes connected to his golden ones that glistened with some form of mischief as he ran his tongue along his lips and his smile disappeared, replaced with a conflicted expression as his eyes clouded with shadow. His heart was racing, you could feel it on your back.

“(Y/N)... I- I’m afraid that I might not be able to... let you go if I continue” Cal said, his voice was shaky and he started to shiver behind you as he held you tightly and bit down on his lip to stop it from quivering. You immediately shifted in your seat, turning your torso around to face the Inquisitor who’s eyes were glassy with unexpected tears.

“I think you and I both know we can’t let each other go, after everything that’s happened” You cupped Cal’s scarred face, he flinched momentarily but soon relaxed and pressed his cheek into your palm, closing his eyes and feeling the force course throughout you both.

“I don’t want to let you out of my sight, not again” Cal mumbled, sounding like he was on the edge of bursting into tears as he leaned his head forward slightly, your foreheads touching and lips inches away as he sniffed and held in his emotions.

“Ever since the day I met you I’ve been so attached, I never knew what love was supposed to feel like... I was taken from my parents at a young age, the Inquisitors don’t know how to love, and I was raised to resist such emotions... but then you come along and make me feel something I can’t put my finger on” A tear rolled down Cal’s cheek as he confessed his emotions, gloved hand resting over your own on his cheek. You stared at Cal with wide eyes, stinging with hot tears as you tried processing what he just told you.

“It hurts to be away from you” Was the last thing Cal said before he let his emotions out and started sobbing uncontrollably. You acted as quickly as you could and wrapped your arms around Cal’s neck, bringing him in for a warm and tight embrace. He held your waist and buried his head in your chest as he continued to cry, his sobs full of pain and fear.

“Please don’t cry Cal, I love you- I don’t want to see you upset” Your voice wobbled as you yourself tried containing your sadness towards the fact that a man you truly cared and loved was breaking down in front of you.

It felt good to think that, it felt fantastic to say it. You loved Cal, it felt like a lifetime ago that you two met but it was barely a month ago.

The Inquisitor raised his head and his sobs paused briefly, large eyes staring up at you as he processed your words and smiled.

“You love me?” He asked, blinking the tears away as you nodded and chuckled.

“I love you, Cal, I really do” You confirmed, earning a beautiful smile from Cal who chuckled happily before his gloved hand raised to cup your cheek and bring you close.

You felt your heart stop as your lips met Cal’s in a soft and emotional kiss. His lips felt so soft against yours, so right.

It felt so relieving to finally kiss him after so long of denying your feelings towards him. The spark between you and Cal finally flourished and set off after so long of putting up with tension that was getting to a point when it was unbearable. You never thought you’d fall in love with someone as evil as an Inquisitor, but then again, the galaxy is full of surprises.

[youngerdrgrey]

a choice for the choiceless // a Batwoman, post-2x15 fic

about: Post 2x15, the ladies of the Bat Team try to help their friend, who seems almost resentful to be alive. How do you help someone when they’re in a place like this? + read on ao3

Notes: there was a lot in 2x15 (“Armed and Dangerous”), and this is partially me processing my own feelings, as well as everyone else’s. Spoilers below for that episode, as it picks up close after. Features the whole of our Bat Team; some Hamilfox and hints of Wildmoore feels here as well

Content Warnings: brief talk of suicidal ideology, hopelessness, and systemic violence against Black people

.

.

Luke stares out the window at The Hold Up. His shoulders cave inwards, and his neck strains to make up for the fact that he hasn’t totally turned towards the light. He watches it though. Tracks the people on the street while Sophie crosses back over to him with their coffees.

It’s been three days since Luke woke up from his coma. Sophie hasn’t spent a lot of time with him since then. Mostly, she talks with Jacob about what a new version of the Crows would require. She texts with Mary and Ryan, who swear that Luke will be back to his old self any day now. But Sophie wants to see for herself how he’s doing.

She sets his hot cup in front of him. The steam slips from the top of it. He glances over and nods his thanks in her direction.

Sophie starts light. “I’ve been meaning to congratulate you. You and Ryan really had me going when I ‘introduced’ you that day.” They’d pretended not to know each other, which gave Ryan a chance to poke fun at Luke. “I should’ve known you were joking. You don’t seem like a sweet drinks kind of guy.”

Luke picks up his cup. “I’m not.”

“Not the talkative kind of guy either?” she asks. Luke sighs into the top of his cup. Sophie offers a smile. “Hey, totally fine. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“Probably about as good as you,” he says. His nostrils flare before he swipes under his nose. “Kate’s gone. Your mom won’t talk to you. The Crows are completely dismantled. In a few short months, you’ve essentially lost everything that you’ve spent your whole life working towards. How are you, Soph?”

On edge, with that list.

Sophie shifts back in her seat to get away from the cold facade that’s taken over Luke. She sips her own drink to buy a moment to process. He doesn’t mean to be blunt. He’s deflecting rather than talking about himself, but if Sophie can say the right thing, then maybe her words can help him out too.

“I’m… managing. I would much rather see all of this as a chance to start over.” At least that’s how she’s trying to see things. “Jacob’s getting clean. Ryan and I aren’t constantly fighting. She actually sat next to me on the couch yesterday without comment, so…. There's good stuff happening too. It’s not just a loss.”

Luke meets her eyes for a moment, but the warmth and curiosity that’s normally there is gone. Snuffed out. He takes another swig of his coffee, then sets the empty cup back onto the table.

“Glad to hear it,” he deadpans. “I’ll see you at the office.”

He pushes his chair back, and Sophie can’t find the words to tell him to stop. He walks off without another look at her. Sophie grabs her phone from her bag and calls Ryan.

Ryan speaks immediately. “Hey, how is he?”

Sophie sighs. “He’s still off.”

A walk sign beeps on Ryan’s end of the call. She says, “He came back from the dead. It can take a lot out of someone.”

“You bounced back pretty quick.” If Sophie remembers correctly, Ryan was back on the streets immediately. Sophie mourned Kate, and Ryan as Batwoman tore through the streets to try and take down the False Face Society. She didn’t shut down like this.

“I don’t think we can compare these. I said my goodbyes on that island, but Luke experienced one of the worst fears that we could have. Not to mention the constant think pieces and hashtags and infographics with him at the center. Give him some time. He’ll be fine.”

Luke has been a trending topic since the day of his shooting. Maybe he does only need time. Maybe he’ll snap out of it. But when Alice kidnapped Sophie nearly a year ago, Sophie would wake up from nightmares of being on that beam again. Nightmares where Batwoman didn’t swoop in, or the bomb went off, or Alice simply killed her. Sophie doesn’t have those nightmares much anymore. But sometimes, when she’s really stressed, or feeling extra alone, she can feel the winds whipping around her still.

Sophie clears her throat and clutches her phone a little tighter to her face. “Just keep an eye on him, okay?”

“I’m walking into the Tower right now. We’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

“Says the girl who cried in my arms last week.”

Ryan inhales sharply. “We’re not talking about that.”

Sure thing. They can just gloss over the fact that Ryan sank into Sophie’s arms like it was natural, or that they’d spent nearly ten minutes like that, just holding on and hoping that he would be okay. They’re still holding, even if they won’t admit it.

“Talk to him, Ryan. See if he talks back.”

“I will.”

 .

.

 Ryan puts off having a heart to heart with Luke for a few days. He’s clearly not in the mood. Every time she even tries to talk to him, he shuts her down like it’s her first week in the Bat Team all over again. So, she waits until he’s busy and tries to meet him where he’s at — beating the shit out of the punching bag in the Batcave.

The lights are barely on, so the Cave’s half in shadow. From the moment the elevator descends, all Ryan hears is the thick thud of the punching bag. The quick, hard hits of his bare fists. Luke hops from foot to foot in his fighting stance.

Ryan keeps her voice playful. “Try picking on someone your own size.” She sets him up with that. He’s got quite a few inches on her. He’d called her pocket size a few months back when she tried to show how threatening she could be outside of the suit.

But this version of Luke doesn’t even look at her. His whole body’s glistening with sweat at this point, and he grunts out, “I’m good,” before launching into a quick combo on the bag.

Ryan breezes down the catwalk to get to the training area. Closer now, he looks smaller than he used to. Like he’s not eating and instead spends all his time putting on tank tops and joggers and hiding out from the people who care about him. 

She pops into her own fighting stance a few steps out of the danger zone. 

“Well, I’m really good. I don’t mean to brag, but I am teaching multiple martial arts classes.”

He does a spin kick that sends the bag moving a lot further than it used to. How much time has he been spending down here? What’s he preparing for?

Luke steadies the bag. “I don’t want to fight you, Ryan.”

She takes the pause in his practice to grab the other side of the bag. 

“Don’t worry, I can go easy on you. Since you’re still healing and all.” She offers him a teasing smile. His cue to joke back. It might’ve taken them a while to get there, but Ryan and Luke normally play like siblings. She’s never had a brother before him. She doesn’t want to fight either.

He sighs. “Desert rose healed me all up. It’s like it—” He readjusts the wraps on his hands. Finally, he meets her eyes, and the rage in them contradicts how forcibly still his voice sounds. “It’s like it never happened.”

Ryan says, “That’s a good thing, right? You don’t have to worry about scars come summertime.”

Luke jerks his head to the side to tell her to move. Ryan reluctantly lets the bag go, and he gets back to punching. His breath comes out short, but the way he’s hitting feels emotional. Sporadic and pained.

She takes a shaky breath. “Okay, not a good thing. You seem angry. I get anger. You said yourself that I charge into fights that I know I can’t win, and maybe that’s what I’m doing with you.” She has to talk louder over his increased punching speed. “If you want to fight, then we’ll fight. If you want to scream, then we can scream. But this silent brooding thing isn’t you, Luke.”

His head whips around to face her. The bag nearly hits him back as he scoffs at her. “You’ve known me less than a year. You have no idea who I am. Or what I want.”

She reaches her hands out to him. “Then tell me,” she pleads. “Because I want my friend back.”

The fire in his eyes gives way to something hollow. Something aching. He gulps. “Well, you got him.”

“Don’t sound so sad about it,” she says. His jaw twitches, and his nostrils flare. “Wait…. Are you sad about being back?”

Luke starts unwrapping his hands. “I’m fine, Ryan.”

She crosses over to get directly in his face. “But are you happy? Are you upset? Are you—”

“I’m fine!” he yells. His voice echoes through the Batcave, and Ryan flinches. He takes a second to drop his eyes before storming straight for the elevator. He calls over his shoulder. “You can tell Sophie that too.”

Ryan waits until he’s inside the elevator to reply. “What about Mary? You want me to lie to her too?”

Luke’s face crumbles. Then he steadies it back to stone. “Tell her whatever you want. I can’t stop you.” He flips the switch to leave.

Ryan screams because she knows he’ll hear it. Throws her weight behind a punch that sends the bag rattling on its chain.

 .

.

 “See,” Sophie holds her glass up for Ryan to refill, “I told you.” She frowns as she says it, which does make her normal righteousness less pronounced. The fact that she’s curled into herself on Ryan and Mary’s couch also helps lessen the blow.

Ryan dumps the last of their shared wine bottle into Sophie’s glass before plopping the bottle onto the coffee table. She settles back into her half of the couch.

Mary speaks up from her seat in the comfy chair. “What else can we do? If he’s not talking to any of us, or a therapist, then how are we supposed to get Luke back?”

Sophie shrugs. 

Ryan suggests, “We could reach out to Stephanie. Maybe a nerd date will help Luke feel better.”

Mary says, “Just because you started dating Imani immediately after—”

Ryan cuts in, “I didn’t date her immediately after—”

Mary gets louder. “Yeah, you kind of did. Angelique left on the 3:15 train out of Gotham, and Imani came in at 3:30.” She rubs the tense spot between her eyebrows. “No judgment, but maybe that’s not the answer.”

Ryan glances to Sophie for a little support, but the ex-Crow finds her wine real interesting around then. Ryan should defend herself. She dated Imani to get out of her head. Angelique was her first love, but she and Ang weren’t meant to be each other’s only relationship. Waiting around wouldn’t have changed the fact that Ang was starting a new life. Ryan had to start one too.

She shifts on the couch, so her knees can tuck under her body better. Her leg bumps into Sophie’s, and neither of them make a move to shift away. Sophie stares down at their point of contact.

“Maybe he just needs to know we’re here for him. We keep showing up, and eventually, he’ll have to talk to us.”

Ryan nods. “In that case, you’re up, Mary.”

Mary sighs into her wine. “No pressure, right?”

 .

.

Mary and Luke don’t hang out a ton in the real world. Usually, they’re in the Batcave when they spend time together. Or he helps her at the clinic. So, she figures that she shouldn’t exactly rock the boat too far.

Luke sits down on one of the exam chairs in the clinic. The whole space is empty, with the closed sign on the front door. He shrugs out of his jacket. She tries not to look as nervous as she feels.

“Thanks for coming down.” She wrings her hands before stopping herself and planting them firmly against her sides. “I wanted to see how the desert rose in your blood compares to mine, or Ryan’s. So, uh, it shouldn’t take too long to do the draw.”

Luke nods. “Sure thing.” He rolls the sleeve of his left arm up. “I’m all yours.”

“Right.” She chuckles, but it’s a breathless kind. The kind that she needs to clear her throat to cover.

The tray’s already prepped beside him with the needle and test tubes. She rolls her own chair to stop beside him. It’s honestly the closest they’ve been since he’s gotten out of the hospital. He probably doesn’t even remember her being there. Or what she said about needing him just before he came back. That’s probably too intense of a topic to start with.

She ties a band on his arm to make his veins pop. She wouldn’t need it normally. Luke’s got great veins. Great skin in general. Softer than she’d expect for a guy who spends all his time in the same suit. She actually hasn’t seem him in casual clothes that often, come to think of it. Does he own casual clothes?

Luke chuckles. “You’re thinking pretty hard there. First time?”

Mary springs for the needle. “Ha ha. I just… started thinking about… my dad. Because of veins! And Snakebite. He’s, um… doing better?”

He smiles at her, like actually gives a short glimpse of connection. “That’s really good to hear.”

Mary runs with it. “Yeah, and he’s talking about his feelings. And Alice even warned me that somebody might try to hurt me. It’s weird, and I don’t want Alice as my family, but it’s also nice to not feel super alone….” She pricks him then. His face scrunches for a second, and she watches the vial fill up rather than watching his face. “It’s why I’m so grateful to you and Ryan and Sophie. You’ve been my family through all of this. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Luke’s left arm twitches, but it doesn’t feel like a blood thing. More like he wants to reach out with it. She keeps her eyes low and unlatches the first vial. Grabs the second and lets that one fill too.

Luke says, “I guess it’s different for me. I have my mom, but…. Did you know she calls me every single day for check-ins?” He sounds tired but amused. “She sent me an Amazon link for a bulletproof vest yesterday. Never mind the fact that I run Wayne Tech and have literally made a better one in my sleep.” His jaw trembles. “But I get it. She almost lost me in the same exact way that we lost my dad. I-I almost did that to her.”

Mary scrambles to say, “You didn’t do anything.”

“I would have. If… if the choice were up to me, I would not have come back.” He turns to face Mary again. “A-and I love my mom. And I love our team. But I am so tired of being a part of a world like this.”

Her heart crumbles in her chest. The vial nearly overflows, and she has to grab the third one. Her hands shake as she goes for it. Her voice shakes too. “You sound kind of… schmuicidal when you say stuff like that.”

“I’m not going to kill myself,” he says. He sounds sure of that.

“But you want to die?” she asks.

“I don’t want….” He sighs and rephrases. “I just want to be somewhere else sometimes. And this whole thing has made anywhere else seem better. I mean, I was in a coma, Mary, and they were photoshopping a gun into my hand. Why would I want to be here?”

She stops the blood drawing to hold his hand. “I’m here. And Batwoman is here.”

He balls his fist beneath her grip. “And no one’s checking to see if me or Ryan are a part of the team. I’ve spent my whole life doing things the right way, and I am exhausted.”

Mary lifts her other hand to open his fist. She turns his hand so they can be palm to palm, so she can thread her fingers through his and let him feel where she’s at too. Because she might be exhausted for different reasons, but she’s tired too.

“I think it’s okay to be exhausted. And to want a break. But you can’t let all of this break you. And if it feels like it is, then I’d really like to help hold you together.” She smiles at him, and he glances away to blink some of the tears out of his eyes. She lifts her voice to add on, “Preferably with the help of a licensed psychological professional.”

“You’re not licensed, and you save lives.” He squeezes the hand in hers. “You saved me.”

Mary nods. “True, but an actual therapist could help you talk through this stuff without you feeling like you’re going to be judged, or a burden — which you’re not.” She practically scoots out of her seat to be closer to him. Her knees knock into the side of his chair, and she would totally feel ridiculous if not for the fact that he angles his body towards her too. “God, Luke, I am so glad that you’re talking to me. I want to know how you feel and what you’re going through. But I also know that a therapist can put this in a perspective that I can’t. So please consider talking to one?”

He holds her stare for a moment. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Next time you want to talk, you just take me to dinner instead of taking my blood.”

Mary laughs, and Luke laughs too. “Deal.”

 .

.

 Luke’s in the bathroom when Mary texts the girl group chat. 

Mary to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 He sounds better. We’re getting dinner and hopefully he’s getting a therapist.

 Sophie to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 Great job, Mary.

 Ryan to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 That’s my girl! Or Luke’s girl? 👀

 Sophie to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 Ryan, they’re just getting dinner

 Ryan to 🦇 LADIES DO IT BATTER GC 🦇 For now ;)

 Mary leaves them on read and stuffs her phone back into her purse. Luke comes back out of the bathroom, drying his hands on a paper towel. “Ready to go?”

Mary nods. “Yeah, we’ll find our way back.” It’s the only choice they have.

.

.

.

.

a/n: The hopelessness that Luke feels in this episode and the near constant mix of emotions feel so true to my experiences over the last few years. one thing that they have gotten very right are different aspects of these Black experiences. There’s a lot to work through, and I’ve found that therapy and leaning on friends has been real helpful. Hope that Luke gets that too. Hope that you all have that as well.

Let me know how you’re feeling, re: this, or this season. Talk to me, Gotham. I’ll talk back.