#oh man that was terrible and now i need some comfort food

[in-this-light-on-this-evening]

I had an awful nightmare last night, so now I will go full chaotic and cook myself some pastasciutta. It’s 10AM and I do not care.

[bontentrio]

SAFE PLACE

yunho x gn reader

summary: after a tiring day you found yourself being comforted by the warmth of your boyfriend while he played video games.

tw: fluff maaaybe some angst but not really (+ spelling mistakes probably, english is not my first language)

based on this video of yunho looking very boyfriend (i screamed very loudly and cried a little)

the weather kind of reflected how you were feeling: grey, and on the verge of tears. the weight of your horrible day rested on your shoulders, and each step you took towards your home was more dreadful than the last. not only did your feet hurt from the new shoes you were wearing, but also your head, you had a terrible headache.

your day actually did not start as bad as it ended, you woke up in time and got dressed for work in a nice outfit. nice outfit = nice day, right? oh how wrong you were. as soon as you got to the office, you accidentally spilled your coffee cup on your nice outfit after bumping against one of the desks by accident. your white shirt immediately ruined despite trying to wipe the stain off with some wipes.

later on that day, your boss scolded you for apparently handling some documents poorly. thing is, when you asked to see said documents, you realized they weren’t even yours to begin with. so you tried telling that to your boss, and you could tell he realized his mistake but obviously did not care enough to apologize. he just sighed and left, probably on his way to scold the right person for the poor management.

on your way home, you missed the train. and on top of that it started raining slightly, but you did not have your umbrella because, surprise! you forgot it at the office. thankfully once you got on the next train, it stopped raining. the weather still looked awful though, and it seemed like it would continue raining later.

thankfully the day was over. you entered your apartment and dropped everything by the door, not bothering enough to put everything into the right place.

“i said go right! no! my right! why would i say your right when its filled with enemies, are you dumb?” you suddenly heard your boyfriend yell. “see, now we are dead and our teammates suck so they won’t be able to revive us”.

you walked towards the living room, and found yunho facing the tv with his spider man custom controller in his hands. he immediately noticed your presence, said something along the lines of “be right back, keep watch” and stood up to greet you.

“hi baby, how are you?” he asked, kissing you. “i prepared your favorite food earlier today, it’s in the fridge, just heat it up whenever you feel like it”.

you didn’t say anything in response, just hugged him tightly, trying to contain the tears from spilling out. you didn’t realize how exhausted you actually were from your horrible day, how much you needed yunho to hold you and tell you that everything will be okay.

“hey, hey y/n, you okay?” he asked, lifting up your head to face him. he brushed your cheeks with his thumbs and stared into your eyes worridly. some tears spilled out, but you couldn’t mutter a single word, just shook your head in order to say “no”. yunho didn’t need anything else, he understood you didn’t want to talk about it. at least not right now. “how about a shower first? does that sound right?” he asked, before kissing your forehead. you nodded.

he quickly went back to his place at the sofa and told his friend he needed to leave momentarily and will be back later. then he took your hand and lead you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet seat while he prepared the hot shower for you. “come here, love” he said, extending his hand for you to take. yunho proceeded to undress you, taking notice of the brown stain on your shirt in the process. once you were done, you got in the shower and noticed that the temperature of the water was perfect.

“i’ll do the laundry and wait for you in the living room” yunho said while taking your work clothes in his hands.

———

you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit better after the shower. you got dressed in your pj shorts and stole one of yunho’s many hoodies, putting it on and staring at yourself in the mirror. you noticed the big eyebags, evidence of how exhausted you were from the day and from work itself.

you found yunho back in his spot on the sofa, controller still in hand, but now speaking calmly. when he caught your eyes, he smiled and extended his hand for you to take, again. this time, you were able to smile back. “better?” he asked, and you nodded. he took your hand and brought you towards him, sitting you on his lap. you immediately wrapped your legs and arms around him, caging him and allowing your head to rest on the spot between his shoulder and neck. you inhaled his scent, and slowly felt all your worries slipping away.

yunho’s arms were around you, controller still in his hands. at some point, you weren’t quite sure when, you heard him say goodbye to his friend and that he was going to play another game solo mode. he proceeded to hold you tighter, properly this time since he left momentarily the controller besides him. “everything will be okay, you will be okay” he whispered to your ear, kissing you lightly on the side of your head.

you don’t know when, but between the soft tapping of the rain against the windows and the low humming coming from yunho, you finally drifted to sleep.

you will be okay, as long as yunho was there to kiss your tears away and be your safe place from dark days.

[emmylksblog]

THE WEDDING RING // H. FORT

summary: reader lost her wedding ring and tries to hide it from her husband

contents: angst, comfort

warnings: my first time ever writing so be patient with grammar errors

a/n: idk if this is good but if you want part 2 tell me in the comments and if you like my writing feel free to request, i only write about hector fort and some barcelona players

You were sitting on the couch, looking through a pile of cushions and under the couch cushions, clearly stressed and worried. You quickly put everything back in place as you hear the front door open and your dear husband who you didn´t want to see now walks in, home from training.

"Love, I'm home!"

Trying to act casual you get up and greet him with a kiss on his cheek "Oh, hey! I didn't expect you home so early." You stand up quickly and try to hide the fact that you were just frantically looking for your wedding ring something.

Clearly, something was bothering her for her to be acting this way, he'd never seen her like this before and they had been living together for 2 years, he considered it a long time to know her well enough and to notice so easily her changes in mood.

Hector left his training bag on the couch and approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against his chest. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. "I know you've been worried about something," he murmured, his voice low and soft. "You don't have to say anything yet, I'll wait till you're ready to talk about it."

You turned in his embrace and playfully mock-scrunches your nose at him. "Ugh, you smell terrible!" you exclaimed jokingly. "Did you roll around in mud after training or something?" Hector chuckled and feigned offense. "Hey, I'll have you know, this is the smell of a real man." He joked back. You smiled and pushed him playfully. "Well, this real man needs to go take a shower. I'll start making dinner."

As he left to shower, you went to the kitchen to start preparing the meal. You tried to keep your mind occupied, but the thought of the lost ring kept nagging at you. You knew you had to tell Hector, but you were worried about how he would react.

----------

Your husband walks back into the room, towel around his neck and hair still damp. He sits down at the table and watches as you quickly finish setting everything up.

As you turn around to join him, you immediately notice his damp hair and can't help but nag. "You should really dry your hair properly. You'll catch a cold like this." Hector grins, clearly amused by your concern. "But I only like it when you dry it for me," he teases, reaching out to pinch your cheek.

You swat his hand away, giggling at his playful banter. "You're such a baby," you tease, "training must have gone well for you to be this cheeky."

Hector chuckled at your comment, knowing that you knew him too well. "It went pretty good," he said, "We did some endurance drills today and I managed to run a few miles faster than usual. The guys were in awe of my speed, as always." He said jokingly, flexing his muscles in a mocking display of pride.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics. "You're insufferable, you know that?" you said, trying to bite back a smile. "Always bragging about how fast and strong you are."

They continued eating and the conversation slowly died down to a comfortable silence. Hector was oblivious to her inner turmoil, relishing the peace that came with the meal. She, on the other hand, was eating silently, lost in her own thoughts.

Occasionally, she would glance at her left hand, silently panicking over the missing ring on her finger. She wondered how Hector hadn't noticed yet, but his focus seemed to be on his food.

Hector casually asks her to pass him a napkin, and she does so without thinking, using her left hand since it's closer. As he takes the napkin, he subconsciously takes hold of her hand, his eyes darting to her ring finger. His smile fades as he realizes – her wedding ring is missing.

"Where's your ring?" he asks, his voice calm, yet tinged with confusion.

You quickly withdraw your hand from his, feeling the weight of guilt and nervousness. Trying to come up with an excuse, you mumble something about how you must have forgotten to put it on this morning. However, the excuse is flimsy and Hector immediately sees through it. "You never forget to put it on," he says, his expression serious now. "What's really going on?"

Hector's gaze is unwavering, the silence in the room nearly palpable. As you try to muster up the words to explain, tears well up in your eyes. The weight of the truth and the stress of the day finally catch up to you. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sob. You can't bring yourself to tell him you lost the ring, even though his gaze demands the truth.

Hector's tough exterior softens instantly as he sees you struggling to speak through your tears. He gently pulls you into his arms, holding you against him.

"Shhh..." he murmured, his voice gentle. "It's okay, I'm not mad, just tell me what happened."

You bury your face into his shoulder, your words coming out in a teary mumble. "I... I was searching for it before you came," you said, "I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find it. I'm so sorry... I'm such a horrible wife. You shouldn't have married someone like me..."

He holds you tighter, his embrace comforting and protective. "No, no," he whispered, "Don't say that. You're not a bad wife because you lost something, accidents happen."

He pulled back slightly, gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "I married you because I love you, for everything that you are. And a ring doesn´t define our love"

Hector softly kisses your forehead, holding you close against him. You remain like that for a while, cuddled up on the couch, taking comfort in each other's presence. Gradually, your exhaustion catches up to you, and drift off to sleep in the embrace of your husband, your head resting on his chest.

----------

[weebsinstash]

I'm not typically a fan of pregnancy au stuff for hazbin because it introduces a hell lotta new questions, but anyways, I DO find it absolutely entertaining thinking about a Reader who did the nasty with Alastor and had kind of a friends-with-benefits situation with him and he does his whole 7 year disappearing act without warning you or telling you anything at all (assumedly because he did not have a choice or opportunity) and he comes back, knocking on your front door, "say, doll! What's say we mosey on over to our old favorite jazz club to catch up on old times?"

and suddenly peeking out from behind your back is just the cutest little fawn with a head full of curls who is very clearly Alastor's son, clutching at your apron, "Mama, isn't he the man you listen to those old recordings of? He sounds the same"

Alastor feeling this, this WARMTH in his chest as you invite him inside your home and it's completely different from the last time he was there, filled with everything your son could need, his drawings and report cards from that nice school you break your back to afford stuck lovingly on the fridge and a hot home-cooked meal currently cooling on the stove as Alastor's invited for some food... if he feels comfortable. You and him discuss privately where your son can't hear as you get all weepy, "I'm sorry, but when you disappeared, I couldn't... ASK you what you would have wanted... I didn't want to have some kind of, of PROCEDURE and you hate me for it... and even from the very first scan, I loved him so much... he's my entire world... I couldn't even CONSIDER... getting rid of him. He's my beautiful smart baby boy and i would die for him"

Genuinely I think it would be real funny if Alastor is initially quite jealous actually for having to share you with a CHILD, but the more time he spends around the young boy, the more he realizes, oh, this is quite the upstanding young fellow! His mama raised him right and he likes to help around the house, likes to read lots of books, loves all kinds of music, helps his mother on all the crosswords and word searches and puzzle books, and he's smart enough to suss out pretty quickly, "sir are you my father"

and the second your son receives an answer, just, KICKING THE RADIO DEMON IN THE SHIN, "You're a horrible man!! You call yourself a gentleman but you left my mama to raise a baby all by herself!! You're terrible! Incorrigible! Disrespectful! Untoward!--" Your young son is breaking out the goddamn dictionary and synonyms on this man, "you lying, deceitful, devious, DEPLORABLE--"

And Alastor is watching this little kid threaten to beat his ass and not even caring that he's up against The Infamous Radio Demon, just shouting at Alastor until the young boy is absolutely changing colors in the face, getting SO SO upset for his mama that he's ready to FIGHT OVER IT, and Alastor is just, essentially, breaking out into laughter, "oh, so you ARE my son!! Aren't you a gutsy one!! Put JUST a little force behind that next one and it might actually sting a bit!" and pats the boy on the head. That settles it; he's accepted as Alastor's son like THAT

Of course, Alastor now caring for this boy does not come without its... complications. There might be some 'incidents' if you, for example, have other positive role models for your son, other men who are regularly coming around, making Alastor's new position as the boy's father and your not-quite-husband (yet) feel threatened and unstable and encouraging the Radio Demon to 'act out'. You're so happy to have Alastor back in your life that you don't even notice things are a little off until your son starts mentioning things like "Mama where did Mr Thomas go? He used to come by every Thursday to play chess but I don't remember seeing him for a while?" "Mama I know Benson has bullied me and pushed me down and stolen my things but I saw his mom crying outside the bookstore earlier saying he's gone missing and I think we should help look for him" "Mama I know Mr Alastor said we don't need her and he can teach me but I also like my old piano teacher. Could I have some lessons with her and some with Mr Alastor instead of just all of them with him? I miss Ms. Mason"

But like... you don't want to deny Alastor a relationship with his child after they both have already lost so much time and you don't want to deprive your son of his father without a good reason, so you stifle some of your suspicions. It's all for your son's sake, isn't it? And you can't help but, get a little selfish when Alastor insists on taking you and your boy out, going to see live bands, going to local events, taking your son to the county fair and you feeling tears in your eyes as, your boy finally gets to spend time with his father. It's like... it's like you're a real family... you've always wanted something like this, for him, for them, for yourself--

But... Alastor doesn't... see you THAT way, does he? He displays his emotions much differently than you, and there were even times in the past where Alastor himself drew the line in the sand that, oh yes you two were quite close friends, he has such a deep affection for you, but... romantically? Sorry, sweetheart, but no

... or so he thought. Now that he's back, he sees how deeply you love his son and sacrifice so much for him amd how much your son absolutely adores you and how, completely by yourself, without any of Alastor's help, you raised him into a fine young man that... the Radio Demon could see himself helping raise, a boy he can't help but feel a little pride in helping make and, can't help but feel a little sad he missed all sorts of important milestones for. And of course, of course of course of course, he missed YOU ever so much, and when Alastor looks up from his paper to see you at the stove, hair all out of place and your hands messy as you cook a meal for your son and his father, your little boy dutifully helping clean as you go, he can't help wish that THIS was how he spent his last 7 years.

Lucifer have mercy on anyone who tries to disrupt his new utopia of peace and tranquility. Could you even imagine, could you even fucking imagine you and Alastor are walking with your son and nearby TVs snap on and it's fucking Vox, showing your family on TV, talking shit to Alastor, using HORRIBLE language in front of your son--

And Alastor feels his love for you grow all the more as you use your own magic to surge through the television and begin strangling the newscaster right on the air, "DONT YOU DARE SHOW MY SON'S FACE ON TV YOU FUCKING--" and Alastor starts lovingly conversing with his son about how important it is to stand up for your family and your values as the pair of them watch you throw Vox around his recording studio in a frenzied rage, "You and your disgusting Vees always trying to peddle your worthless garbage to kids, you CREEPS!! BABIES DON'T NEED IPADS, RETINOL CREAMS, SKEEYEE DANCE ROUTINES, AND ATHLEISUREWEAR LEGGINGS THAT GO UP THEIR ASS, YOU CONSUMERIST IMMORAL SHELL OF A HUMAN BEING--"

Snapcut to you rejoining your family on the sidewalk with your hair a mess and visible blood on you while Vox is facedown on the floor in his broadcast unable to move before it cuts to a "technical difficulties, please stand by" screen. Alastor is oh so genuinely joyfully smiling, "Now who wants to go and get some waffles? I say we should celebrate any victory over our enemies with some tasty grub!!" and he takes you and your son's hands and is all but skipping down the sidewalk while his hated rival is bleeding out in his tower somewhere. Oh, Alastor will give the Television Demon his own revenge for daring to try and shame the lovely beautiful mother of his child and his beloved boy on that disgusting show. What kind of degenerate uses children for content, let alone threatens their safety? Alastor will be back for him later and do much, MUCH worse than you did.

For now, though? Alastor just wants to enjoy the sight of you and his son sitting in a booth with him while you all scarf down some hotcakes. A family of his very own, huh? How wonderful. If only his own mom were here to see it...

[the-daiz]

When you’re sick | One punch man

Synopsis; How the one punch men would act when you’re bed ridden

genre: fluff, hc

Characters: Saitama, Genos, Speed-o’-sound sonic, flashy flash, Zombieman, Garou

side note; My… my hands… wont… stop typing… save me…. I’m gonna hibernate after this post

SAITAMA

Shockingly takes very good care of you

he’s a mundane guy that lives alone and needs to take care of himself, so I’d assume he’s gotten his fair share of sick days

He’ll be softer and more careful with his words

He lets you huddle up in his futon, even if he’s a little annoyed cuz now he needs to find somewhere else to sleep,

he still wants you to be close to him so he can look out for you

makes you lotssss of tea and warm meals

and bananas! (Saitama loves bananas)

he knows all the foods to avoid when you’re sick, ex: eggs

he’ll probably spend most of his day sitting next to you while he watches tv or talks to you about something

doesn’t leave the house to do any hero work so he can stay by your side

like I said before, he takes veryyy good care of you until you feel better

GENOS

oh gets really worried

a little bit frantic even, but he doesn’t let it show

does a shit ton of research about your illness/symptoms and how to take care of it

Consults dr kuseno

who of course gives him a lot of advice

he’s hella dotting

Like fr he doesn’t leave your side

despite being an S-class hero, unless its an absolute emergency, he DOES NOT LEAVE YOUR SIDE

Will make sure you take your medication exactly on time

Prepares gourmet type meals for you

Also expect a lot of broth, soup etc etc

Will offer you any form of physical affection you want. Since he’s a cyborg he doesn’t get sick, so will cuddle you all day without complaints if thats what you’d like

He’s constantly checking up on, his cool metal hand pressed gently on your forehead while his mechanic eyes inspect your frame, a small frown etched on his temple.

he’s so cute kms

SPEED OF SOUND SONIC

He knows how to take care of you

he’s gotten sick PLENTY of times, it never lasted long though because his immune system is simply goated

That being said, he’s very… awkward?

he’s concerned and worried, don’t get me wrong, but he’ll probably try to hide it

His words won’t reassure you much but his actions will!

He’ll drop off supplies like medication, food, herbs, or anything else you need, whether you mention it or he decides you need it anyway.

he’ll check up on you a lot, and he’ll try to stay nearby to make sure your safe

but honestly, you having to rely on him when you’re vulnerable makes him feel prideful

he doesn’t admit it, but he kind of likes having you sick, just a tinsy bit

FLASHY FLASH

Oh god

of course he’s terribly worried about you

very aloof about it though

I’ll start with the cons: He’s sort of emotionally distant, and offers very little emotional support, and he won’t try sticking by your side as often as the other characters

Now that that’s out of the way,

He does make sure you have everything you need, and if he’s not with you, probably because he’s doing some hero work, he’ll text you or call very occasionally to ask how you’re doing and if you need anything

If you do mention that you’re feeling worse, he’ll be right by your side in an instant

ZOMBIEMAN

He’s very down-to-earth and calm about it

He won’t fuss over it or worry too much in the slightest

He’ll take good care of you, bringing you meals in bed, drink lots of fluids and getting enough rest

he’ll focus on making you as comfortable as possible too

He’ll leave for hero work every once in awhile, thats unless you’re really sick, then he’ll stay rooted beside you without another word

He’ll spend a lot of time just sitting or laying next to you. If you’re uncomfortably hot and would probably not want him to sleep beside you, he’ll sit on a chair and quietly hold your hand.

If you want him to talk, he’ll talk, and if you don’t, he’ll sit wordlessly without complaints.

he’ll probably crack a joke here or there if the mood is too damp

also, he’ll offer lots of forehead kissess

GAROU

He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s got the spirit! 😍😍

this lone wolf isn’t used to taking care of people, let alone himself

He’ll probably tell you to just walk it off, but his protective instincts will kick in anyway

he’ll try to stay by your side as much as possible

he’ll grumble and act like he’s annoyed, but he really isn’t

he’s a little harsh, probably giving you some weird motivation like “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” or smth

he’s genuinely concerned for you though, just be patient with him, he’s trying

[cokou]

HIII- I’d like to make a request of Ace w fem reader on their period and Ace uses his flame Devil fruit to ease out the cramps! (y can I just have a shirtless, loud, raven-headed boyfriend with a orange cowboy hat that’s literally ✨GORGEOUS✨.. it’s just sad tbh 😔)

(ps; ur fanfics do NOT fail to make my body tingle 🤭🤭)

Note ✉* ~ I thought that I didn't appreciate Ace at all until i reached Marine ford😞, TYSM FOR REQUESTING ANONN!! || Do not translate, transfer, or reform, this is my only account (exp. Ao3), will not be cross posted anywhere. || 𖤐٭┆Masterlist

Summary* ~ Your sweet boyfriend uses his Devil Fruit to relieve your cramps💗 Warnings* ~ Modern AU || Genre* ~ SFW

ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵘˢᶦᶜ, ᵈᵉᵃʳ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ?

Hot Man (Literally)

You: can you get me pads on your way to my house bae? Hot man (Literally): Is it ketchup month? Btw i already brought them for you mama :P See you at the doorstep! (You reacted ❤️) You: Love you Hot Stuff <3 (Hot Man (Literally) reacted ❤️)

You shut off your phone was you scatter around your room, brushing your hair, doing extracurricular activities before your boyfriend came over at your place. You had invited him over for dome movie night and simply because you were feeling like having him agaunst your side right now.

You impatiently wait for the doorbell to ring as you rot on your couch, browsing up stuff from the media. You jumped off the couch as you heard repeatedly ringing of your doorbell by the door, rushing over to wuickly answer the door.

"Hey mamas! Feeling good today?" Ace let's himself in as you open the door for him, placing down the take out foods by the living rooms table and slumping himself on the couch, lazily signalling you to join him and cuddle on the couch.

"Just a bit upset is all. " You ranted.

Ace rose up from the couch, still hugging you to his chest,

"What's wrong Princess?" He pats your head.

"Terrible cramps today, haha." You jokingly laugh as you take out the take-out food your boyfriend had bought for you.

"Need anything? You know I'm always here for you." Ace slumped his arm across your shoulder as he looked at the current TV show playing, slightly fixing his hat but decides to just remove it and toss it on the ground.

"Oh and, here. Your pads" He reaches over the plastic set across the living rooms table and slightly dishevel the plastic, taking out a whole box of your chosen napkin brand. You almost choked on how many he had bought and thought of how much money did he even soent and HOW he even got money to spend in the first place.

"..What the— Babe isn't that just a little bit too much? I mean..i asked for a SINGLE box, not the whole shelf!"

"Just incase of an emergency you know! I actually watched something on the media— you can do lots of things using napkins and—"

" Okay, Okay stop! Let's not discuss that subject!" You clutch on your lower abdomen and placing your food by the table as you excused yourself into the bathroom, leaving your boyfriend a little bit guilty for your own place. Whilst you were gone, Ace thought of a (stupidly) amazing idea for your little happiness.

He built a blanket fort by the living room using your huge, huge, huge blankrt from your room and turning on your led lights into something much for comforting. Yoou came back to some, cute monstrosity that he had set up, causing you to laugh loudly together with your boyfriend.

"Come here mama" He once again signals you to beckon closer to him inside the blanket fort, he hugs you making you lean towards his back as he places his hands towards your belly, slightly heading them up making a little hot-water compress made just for you. He switches the tv into a movie that you both very much enjoy eatching together.

Ace settles your position between his arms, his legs surrounding your waists as he continuously comforts you using his hand within your belly. He had also laid out your favorite snacks close to you both as you continued watching movies together.

After a few hours of watching everything you both could watch, you felt the slight hot breathing against your neck. Sce had fallen asleep, his body was warm, warm enough to serve you as a huge blanket on a cold rainy day. You quietly scatter a pillow fort inside the little blanket fort he had made and placed one beneath his head, you slide up between his arms making him slightly awake and hug you tightly towards him again, making you teo fall asleep in each others arms.

Author's Note ✉* ~ HI HI HI, this post was pretty short but i enjoyed writing it a lot! Tysm to anon eho rewuested this, love you all and stay safe guys!! <33

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 5

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, house fire, perilous situations, angst, hurt/comfort 

Part 5: “Twitterpated”

“Hey there, beautiful,” Dean said.

His voice alone was enough to cause a shiver tingling down your spine.

You couldn’t help but giggle as he once again drew you into a kiss. He held you close by the waist. Feeling his hands spanning your lower back was doing things to you, but you knew you had to keep a level head here.

“Dean,” you said. Your lips curved against his. “We’ve said hello about three times now.”

“Wanna make it four?” he suggested. His voice was deep as sin.

Damn this man, you thought. He was a professional flirt.

But you laughed, and he smirked at the sound. He resisted letting you go when you playfully tried to pull away. The two of you were standing in the middle of your small office, in front of your desk at work. A large bag of takeout was perched on your desk, but neither of you cared about food just yet.

Dean liked the look of you in your navy blouse, tucked into a trim pair of pants, down to your smart heels.

“Tell me you didn’t go up all 20-something flights of stairs in those daggers you got on,” he remarked.

You followed his gaze down to your heels.

“Oh no,” you said. “I’ve got a backup pair of sneakers that I came to work in. Then I slip these on behind my desk. No one’s the wiser.”

Dean enjoyed that playful little smirk you gave him. He still couldn’t believe you’d walked all those stairs, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your lingering fear of elevators.

“Yeah? What else do you get up to behind that desk? Besides work, that is,” he teased. You guffawed and playfully hit his arm.

He chuckled and finally released you. You’d already dragged a spare chair next to yours behind your desk, so he began helping you unearth the various containers in the bag he brought. All the while, he surreptitiously took an inventory of your office.

It was all very neat and organized, just like you. You had a large window right behind you, which let in some much-needed natural light. There were tile floors, like the rest of the building, but while your desk was an old wood, clunky thing, you had a double monitor setup with an organized file system on either side.

As you pushed things aside and made room for the food, Dean noted the way stray pieces of hair fell from your clip, framing your face. He itched to take that clip out and make that hair wild, maybe even wrapping it around his hand.

Instead, he reached out and tucked a few strands behind your ear. It earned your attention with a soft blush.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothin’,” he grinned. He was treated to one of your shy smiles as you continued in your task.

Soon you and Dean were once again sharing good food and conversation. You explained what you did for work, being a Senior Sales Representative at Savage & Co. He listened, offering interjections here and there: gems like, Josh sounds like a fucking idiot. And, so does your boss. You couldn’t disagree.

In the back of your mind, it was still a bit strange for Dean to be in your office. It felt rather intimate for a second date, but you supposed coming to your place of work wasn’t so new to him.

“You sure are killing that chicken,” Dean remarked, as he watched you carve into a large drumstick with fork and knife. He shot you a teasing smile. “You know it’s already dead, right?”   

You gave him a dry look, despite your amusement. “I’m starving! All I’ve had today is a cup of coffee.” 

He frowned at that. “What, you can’t take a break for an egg McMuffin?”

“Ha!” you cracked, and took a sip of lemonade. “There are no breaks around here.”

Dean hummed, though you could see he didn’t like it.

“You sound like Sam,” he said.

“Oh, your brother?”

“Yeah, Mr. District Attorney,” Dean said in a mocking voice. But his smile betrayed his fondness, and his pride for his younger brother’s accomplishments.

You remembered then that Dean’s father was a police officer as well—a real life homicide detective! You ruminated on that when you and Dean moved on to dessert. You had a scoop of frozen yogurt, while he started to dig into a slice of blueberry pie.

“You know, it’s amazing to me that your entire family went into public service, from all angles,” you said. “It’s impressive…and really noble, actually.”

Dean offered you a quirk of a smile. It told you he wasn’t typically one to be comfortable with praise, as he carded a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well. It’s a living,” was all he said.

You shook your head with a smile. His humility seemed genuine, and you found it endearing as hell.

“And you’re the eldest, right?” you asked. Dean nodded around a mouthful of pie. He set down the little tray between you for a moment.

“Yeah, though you wouldn’t know it looking at my brother. Around sixteen, he shot up like a damn weed. Friggin’ gigantor.”

You giggled at the image. Now you were truly intrigued, and hoped to meet both Sam and Dean’s father in the future. Though for right now, you glanced down at the slice of pie resting between you, all glossy blueberry filling and flaky crust.

You raised your cup of frozen yogurt to him. “Wanna try a bit of this, so I can try a bit of that?”

You went for a piece of pie with your fork, but Dean snatched the tray out of reach. He eyed you with a bit of admonishment.

“Hey, now. I got you your fake ice cream or whatever,” he said. You rose brow at him, both incredulous and amused.

“What, you won’t share with me?” you asked.

A smile twitched at his lips, but he stayed firm.

“Sweetheart, I’ll get you whatever you want, but here’s where I draw the line.”

You laughed in disbelief. But then an idea made your smile slide into flirtation. You set your dessert aside and rolled your chair closer to his. Dean watched you as your hand slid up his arm, and your pretty eyes met his.

“Okay, what if I make it worth your while?” you posed.

He tilted his head. His hand found the curve of your waist and slid around, bringing you even closer.

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “If you really want my pie, that’s gotta be damn worth it.”

Another giggle bubbled in your throat, but you continued to play your part.

“I have a few ideas,” you said. Your fingers drew a path down his chest, over the soft gray Henley he wore. You could feel the warmth of his skin underneath, and the firmness of his body. His grip on your waist tightened a fraction.   

And he smirked. “Tell me…”

Your lips were a whisper from his. He smelled like spicy cologne and blueberries. Two of his fingers came to brush your hair away from your cheek…

But as usual, your boss had the absolute worst timing. The sound of your office door opening was like a gunshot ringing through the room, making you and Dean separate from one another with a jolt.

Nick Savage strode in without knocking, as he was wont to do. (No matter how many times you asked him not to.)

“Hey, what’s your progress on the Greenway account…oh,” said Nick, pausing where he stood.

He took note of Dean in the room and straightened his posture. His expression changed from its lazy gait, to a more tightened one. You swore you could spot a tinge of annoyance as well, like he was surprised that he hadn’t caught you alone in your office.

“I see I’m interrupting,” he said.

Holding in a sigh, you looked over at Dean and found him similarly assessing Nick.

“This is Dean. You might remember him from last week, when the elevator broke down. He’s one of the firefighters who got me out,” you said. Your hand fell on your companion’s arm. “Dean, this is—”

“Her boss,” Nick said. He seemed to lighten up and give Dean a smile, reaching over to shake the man’s hand. Dean obliged him.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. His tone was pleasant enough, but still more reserved.

Nick purposefully shifted his attention back to you.

“Report? Greenway account?” he repeated.

Your lips firmed into a line, though you slipped back into the professional patience you had to maintain at all times with this man.

“I’m still on my break, but I’ll have the report to you by end-of-day,” you said.

Nick tsked at you with a shrug. “How’re you gonna get that account locked down if you’re not trying to conference with Mr. Greenway? He’s headed to China in two hours.”

You had to reign in an annoyed tick in your brow. But you didn’t notice how Dean was watching the exchange between you and your boss with a thinly veiled frown.

“I’ve called three times, Nick. He’ll get back to me.”

“Hmm. I wonder if Josh is taking that same approach,” Nick wondered with mocking sincerity. “I’ll go ask him.”

He finally turned to leave, though he stopped short, giving Dean a lazy salute. “Nice to meet you…”

“Dean,” he reminded. 

“Right.” Nick slid a pointed finger your way. “Greenway. 2:00 p.m.”

You were silently simmering by the time your office door closed behind him. 

“Well, he’s a delight,” Dean remarked.  

“He’s a dick,” you huffed and tossed your napkin down. But you grabbed your desk phone to make a quick call—to Mr. Greenway.

Dean frowned, but he covered it up by wiping his mouth with a napkin, subtly clearing his throat.

“I should head out then, let you get back to work,” he said. 

His words made you pause. You had a reply ready on your tongue, that his suggestion was probably for the best.

But then you actually looked into his eyes. Guilt prickled in your chest as you realized what you were doing. Not only were you letting Nick get under your skin again, but here was a man who’d brought you lunch. Who was willing to sit in an uncomfortable chair to spend some time with you, and you were about to brush him off.

You hung up the phone without dialing. 

“No. I’m sorry. Stay, please,” you told him, and grabbed his arm to keep him in his seat. You pushed your desk phone away with your spare hand and gave Dean your full attention, along with a smile.

“Where were we?” you asked.

Finally, Dean’s reserved expression eased as he relaxed in his chair, and subtly leaned towards you. He thumbed at your cheek with a smirk.

“I don’t know, something about making it worth my while.”

You bit your lip on a deeper smile.

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. You crossed the ever-closing distance to give Dean a proper kiss. Your hand found his cheek, and your thumb brushed back and forth across the stubble there. You tasted sweet, sweet pie on his lips. 

Even after you parted softly, Dean went back in for a second taste of you. This time it was deeper, as he angled into the kiss. He once again brought you close, just shy of dragging you into his lap.

His hand reached behind your head and succeeded in taking the clip out of your hair. He tossed it on your desk and sunk his hand into the soft strands while his lips continued to devour yours.

It was a small move, but you found it both soothing and exhilarating. You shuddered when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. It had you contemplating locking the door of your office and forgoing the rest of lunch…but your mind was competing with your heart, warning you to be cautious. To protect yourself. 

Really, you’d just met Dean. You had no idea what to expect here, even though your heart was tripping up over his slightest touch.

Still, your face was warm when you eventually parted from him. You chanced meeting his eyes, and you blushed further at what you saw.

The truth was, Dean had been contemplating laying you out flat across your desk. But he tried his best to keep it down to a simmer behind his eyes, a bright and gleaming green.

“Worth it?” you asked. Your voice was a mere whisper, despite your smile.

He returned it, and gave you one last kiss.

“So worth it,” he said. 

Dean wasn’t sure he liked this.

The start of his shift was usually the time for him to be relaxed, but focused. He knew who he was and what he needed to do when he entered the firehouse. It was his second home, perhaps even the place where he felt most comfortable.

And yet, he nearly burnt his hand while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Shit,” he muttered. He jolted and hopped back a step as scalding brown liquid splashed between his feet. It had Benny and Meg looking over from the common room, where they sat at the dining table.

Dean looked at the mess he created and tried not to sigh. He wasn’t awake enough for this…or maybe, he didn’t want to admit that he’d been thinking about you.

Your smile, your eyes, your voice, your occasional shyness, versus the way you dealt with your boss like a pro. Your confidence that was damn sexy, and had Dean imagining what you’d be like taking his orders, or giving them right back, shoving him down into a seat, straddling his thighs, his hands hiking up your skirt…

Dean shook his head a bit sharply to try and clear it.

He circled into the kitchen in need of a paper towel. But he bumped right into Jack, who was making breakfast. It sent the salt canister flying out of his hand and dumping into the pan of eggs.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Dean said. He really did sigh this time. Now they’d have to wait even longer for breakfast.

“Uh, it’s okay. I can save it,” Jack said, though his brows were furrowed as he contemplated just how he was going to do that. He took a wooden spoon and tried to scoop out the mound of salt on the still-sizzling eggs.

Meanwhile, Dean’s lips pursed as he went over to grab a few paper towels. Once the mess by the coffeemaker was clean, he poured himself a tall cup and took a seat between his friends. Benny shot him a glance as he sipped at his own mug.

“You all right, brother?” Benny asked.

“Just fine,” Dean replied. He tried to sound breezy, but neither Benny or Meg bought it. She eyed him with a smirk.

“Heard you went on a date the other night,” she said. “A real one, with chocolates and flowers and all that shit.”

Dean shot her a sharper frown. “Who the hell told…oh. Perfect. Goddamn it, Cas.”

He should’ve known that big-mouth bastard couldn’t be trusted.

“Nope,” Meg said. Her eyes were dancing mischievously, and Dean knew he was in for it this morning. “Your little girlfriend is best friends with my cousin.”

She tossed a sly look at Benny. “You remember Andréa. You two were sucking face hardcore the other night. And giving quite a show to the local pedestrians. Have you called her yet, by the way?”

Benny cleared his throat, but he looked both unrepentant and tight-lipped about his business as he stayed sipping his coffee. Dean shot him a smirk. Until Meg directed her cutting gaze back to him.

“And you,” she said, just as slyly. “Dating your own damsel in distress. How fucking predictable.”

Dean’s lips firmed into a line, while Benny’s brows shot up.

“You really went for it with Elevator Girl?” he remarked in surprise. “I saw you two talkin’, but didn’t think you’d pulled the trigger.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, first of all, let’s stop calling her ‘Elevator Girl.’ She’s got a name.”

Once he’d told them your name, however, their smiles deepened. And Dean knew it was about to be a long shift.

“Ooh, he’s got it bad, bad,” Benny shook his head.

Meg made a “cute” face at him and reached out to shake Dean’s chin, smirking when he slapped her hand away.

“Look at him, all twitterpated,” she teased.

“I’m fine,” Dean all but gritted out. 

Benny chuckled, but truthfully, he was happy for his friend. It seemed the time had finally come when Dean Winchester was hooked on a nice girl. Hopefully one he intended to keep seeing.

“If it’s that serious, you should bring her by the Roadhouse again,” Benny said.

Dean snorted into his coffee. “Yeah, like I’d want to subject her to you degenerate clowns.”

“Well, if you expect to keep it going with this girl, she’s gotta meet us eventually,” Meg pointed out. Dean shot her a look.

“Oh, she’s definitely not meetin’ you,” he said.

Meg’s brows knit together. “What? I’m perfectly pleasant.”

Before Dean could utter a retort, a familiar alarm bell tolled on the intercom speakers. There was a working house fire over in Bellmont—the wealthier part of town. Truck 79 and Rescue Squad 5 were called, along with Ambulance 7.

All hands on deck.

“Okay, Jack. You’re staying on my ass once we get in there. You got it?” Dean told the Candidate.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Jack agreed. It was only his second real fire since he joined Firehouse 25.

By now the team was in full gear, with jackets and helmets and belts. The Chief, Bobby Singer, was at the helm. He and Dean shared a nod.

“All right, Dean. Head in. Lafitte and Ramirez will vent the roof,” he said. 

Dean nodded again. “You got it, Chief.”

While two of his team got the firehose ready, Dean fitted his mask over his face. Already the fire was at a full blaze. They had a limited time before the fire grew too wild to safely maneuver. They’d know when the flames started smoking black. The Chief would let them know on their walkie talkies, and Dean would have to pull his team out.

But first, there was a family of four trapped inside the large two-story house. He fully intended to get every single one of them out.

Thanks to the mask, he could hear his own deep breaths in his ears as he entered the house. A quick look back confirmed that Jack was on his heels, and Gordon was right behind him.

“Okay, clear each room. I’m going right, through the kitchen,” Dean called out the order.

“I’ll take left through the living room,” Gordon replied.

Dean shot a thumbs up. “Copy that.”

Then they got to work.

The flames were high and eating up the walls of what would’ve been a pristine open kitchen. The room was clear, so Jack and Dean kept moving forward until they reached a long hall. They had to hasten single file until Dean opened up the first bedroom with his crowbar.

“Fire Department, call out!” he shouted.

He didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean the room was clear. It was a child’s room, a girl if he had to guess. There were stuffed animals strewn across an unmade bed with pink bedsheets. He checked the closet while Jack looked under the bed. Neither man found anything.

“All right, moving on. First bedroom clear,” Dean said into his walkie talkie. “Going upstairs next.”

“Master bedroom clear,” Gordon commed in.

Jack and Dean continued to the second floor, where the flames were thickest. It was getting harder to see, and even harder to breathe, despite the mask.

“We’re almost outta time, fellas,” Bobby radioed.  

“Just a couple more rooms, Chief,” Dean responded. The first and second bathroom was clear, as was a linen closet in the hall. He had a feeling about this last room though.

He opened the door and nearly got a flaming piece of wall dropped on his head. He jumped back at the same time Jack helped pull him to safety.

Dean breathed deeply. He didn’t have time for thanks, but he reached back and pat Jack on the arm before he entered the bedroom. It was another child’s room, this time for a boy—with green walls, and a school uniform on the back of a chair.

“Fire Department!” he said, though it nearly died on his tongue at what he saw.

There in the far corner, on the other side of the twin bed, was a man kneeling on the floor. He was doing his best to cover his wife and kids. His back was charred beyond recognition.

Dean snapped to attention when he heard one of the kids whimper.

“Fire Department,” he repeated, as he rushed to them. He and Jack peeled the man off his family as carefully as he could. Dean hauled him onto his shoulder.

Meanwhile, the man’s wife was crying and holding her children as tight as possible: a boy that looked about 10 years old, and a young girl. The mother’s glassy eyes widened with hope when she saw Jack and Dean.

“We’re gonna get you out. Come on,” Dean reassured. His hand on her shoulder was both supportive and urging her up onto her feet. Jack helped get her kids up as well.

Gordon joined them as soon as they were out of the room. He picked up the boy while Jack carried the little girl, and Dean had an arm wrapped around the mother while he still carried the father on his shoulder. 

They made it out of the house just before the ceiling started to cave in at the doorway.

Meg and Chuck were waiting for them with a gurney, where Dean carefully laid down the man he carried. His wife hovered close with her kids as Meg began calling out instructions to her partner, trying to take the man’s vitals, all while they wheeled him towards the ambulance.

Just before they would’ve brought him up into the ambo, Meg halted them with a hand. Her other gloved hand was poised at the man’s wrist. She listened closely for a few more seconds in concentration…

And she sighed through her nose. She removed her stethoscope and met the wife’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

Dean’s heart fell into his stomach, but he held the woman as she fell apart. Jack and Gordon did the same for the kids. Behind them, the rest of the team were dousing the flames and black smoke consuming the house with the firehose. Chief Singer let out a heavy breath, but he continued issuing orders as needed.

Dean stared at the pale, soot-stained face of the man he’d failed to save. The woman’s cries rang in his ears, and he continued to support her as she fell to her knees and gathered her children close.

He understood their pain.

Not for the first time, he wondered what his father must’ve felt…the day his mother died.

Dean was a seasoned firefighter. He’d seen enough of the horrors this world could produce, and he had an internal catalogue of shit he’d rather forget. But he knew, as he later got back onto the truck for the long ride back to the firehouse.

He knew this day would be another one to be imprinted on his memory.

“You’re quiet,” Sam noted. He ate dinner in relative silence with his brother, in the apartment they shared. Dean met Sam’s eyes.

“Long day,” Dean eventually said.

Sam didn’t like the sound of that. Before he could probe further, Dean’s phone vibrated on the small dining table.

Dean slowly reached for his phone and saw the new text message, from you.

Hey, thanks again for lunch yesterday. Hope I get to see you again soon. ❤️

It briefly lightened him, almost bringing a smile to his face.

It soon fell, even though his thumb hovered over the keyboard to reply. His mind was blank. Right now, he couldn’t think of a damn thing flirtatious, or charming, or even human enough to say to you.

“Dean,” Sam said, earning his attention. “What’s wrong?”

Again, Dean hesitated. He blew out a slow, heavy breath and sat back in his seat. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair as he thought and thought.

But if anyone might’ve understood where his head was at, it was his brother.

“What do you think would’ve happened if Mom had made it out of the fire, instead of Dad?” Dean asked.

To say that question shocked Sam would be an understatement. Yet to his credit, Sam internalized most of his reaction. He tilted his head as his brows furrowed.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. Dean’s question was impossible for his mind to even wrap around; mostly because he never got the chance to meet his mother. The house fire claimed their home when Sam was barely six months old.

All he knew was his father, and Dean.

Dean shook his head and wiped a hand over his mouth, an anxious gesture Sam knew well. 

“She would’ve been just as messed up at Dad, but…I don’t know. Ignore me. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying.”

“What made you think about that?” Sam asked.

“Today,” Dean said. Though he paused, he managed to say it. “It was a house fire. A mom and two little kids, boy and girl. Their dad just laid over ‘em, took the brunt of it.”

“Jesus…he didn’t make it, did he?” Sam deduced, from Dean’s eyes and his tone. Dean shook his head slow. 

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, Sammy, but…”

This was why Sam worried about his brother. He admired the hell out of him, but he also worried. 

Sam had a ring in his nightstand. He’d picked it out last month. Part of him was hesitating to move forward, not because he thought his girlfriend of three years would say no to marrying him, but because he didn’t want his brother to be alone.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m okay,” Dean said, levying him with a knowing look. His lips gave a wry turn. “Nothing a couple shots of Jameson won’t cure.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, that’s what you need.”

“Right. Like I haven’t caught you up late with your mistress, Johnny Walker,” Dean tossed back.

Sam’s lips pursed, but the point was made. He spent his days putting murderers, drug dealers, rapists, and thieves on trial. Some days were darker and more unreal in their realism than others. And he could only burden Eileen so much.

Still, he didn’t like the look of Dean, who got up from the table and took his half-full plate of spaghetti to the sink.

Dean went up to his room and showered. He’d done so at the station, but showering was one of those methodical things he could do to try to ease his mind, besides working on his car. It provided an alternative to drinking. 

But it didn’t work this time, as he knew it wouldn’t. He lied in bed after getting dressed, just staring up at the ceiling. 

He checked his phone and saw your text, still waiting on an answer. He hesitated…but his thumb hovered over your name. He called you instead.  

“Hey,” your soft voice greeted him. You sounded surprised to get his call, but also a little sleepy, like you were on the verge of going down for the night.

“Hey, yourself,” Dean said. “Sorry, were you about to get to sleep?”

“No, I’m awake. What’re you up to?”

“I’m home. Been a long day,” he admitted. 

“Yeah?” you asked. “Dean, are you okay?”

He heard the perceptive shift in your tone. Against his best efforts, he should’ve known you would pick up on the threads of his mood. But he smiled at the sincerity in your voice. True concern. 

“Yeah. I’m good, sweetheart. How’re you?”

“Uh-uh. Not so fast,” you replied. “…Did something happen at work today?”

He sighed. “Yeah, but uh…we don’t need to get into it. It’s okay.”

“You sure?” you asked. “I’m a good listener.”

“That you are,” he said, with a deeper smile. “You know what’ll help me?”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me, how bad did you wanna knuckle-dunk your boss’s teeth in today?” 

“Oh my God. On a scale of 1 to 10?”

“Lay it on me.”

“20,” you replied. “You met him, so now I can tell you without exaggeration. He’s the Chief Asshat among asshats.”

Dean chuckled. It crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“What’d he do this time?”

You explained your latest frustrations. Then you continued to make him laugh with all the creative ways you’d imagined ending your boss for his dickish behavior, demanding reports, pitting you against your coworkers, being a general pain in the ass. 

The rusty can opener in the break lounge was Dean’s personal favorite. 

Hearing about your day, and the colorful adjectives you used, managed to lighten him. For a little while, it even took his mind off his troubles. And you admitted that venting to him about your violent fantasies was its own form of therapy. 

“Damn, do I gotta worry about you?” Dean teased. 

“Only if you get on my bad side, Lieutenant,” you said. Your voice was nearly a purr.

It had him smirking, with a tendril of heat lacing down the back of his neck. 

“All right, then. I promise I won’t make it a habit,” he said. “Gotta keep you nice and sweet for me.” 

You laughed then, in a way that had him imagining your pretty smile. 

He ended up talking with you about everything and nothing, well into the night.

AN: 🥹 *sighs* Anywho, I know this chapter was a little shorter than usual, but I hope you got a kick out of Dean's first meeting with Nick. And we got a snapshot of an unfortunate "bad day" at the firehouse.

In Part 6, we'll get deeper into the murder mystery, along with a taste of jealousy...

Next Time:

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant. It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush.

You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh.

Keep Reading: PART 6

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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[lild00td00t]

I loved your headcanons of the Strawhats with a shy s/o!! Are you able to do headcanons of the admirals with a shy s/o? I enjoy how you write them!

Marine Admirals with a Shy!S/O

I LOVE HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE BEEN REQUESTING THE ADMIRALS! THEY MAKE MY HEART SOOOOAAAARR ! ~ Anyhow please enjoy, I’m SO happy this series makes you happy, I’m thrilled to be making something you like <3 Thank you for being here!

Characters: Akainu, Kizaru, Aokiji, Fujitora, Sengoku

Akainu | Sakazuki

• I feel Akainu would get frustrated sometimes, especially if you have problems with people walking over you or being slow taking time with a response

• He doesn’t have a problem being assertive, he screams confidence and has no problem getting what he wants (demands). So if you’re a shy person that needs someone to be a mouth piece he’s more than willing to be in control and help you

• He would definitely teach you how to be more assertive and bold, though he’s not patient he still wants to you to do things on your own despite his preference for being in control

• He wouldn’t order for you, or make calls, he simply wants you to learn to do it on your own, and his methods are that of a birds. Push it out of a nest and hope it flies, if not, oh well :( however, if he’s not in a terrible mood he’ll order his food first, and want you to mimic his body language and mannerisms in order to get better

• If you find yourself becoming frustrated or scared he will tell you to simply take a moment to prepare yourself, I imagine he would watch you write out a script and tell you if it’s good or not, and he’d monitor how you deliver it

• If you need comfort after messing up he’ll simply give you a pat on the shoulder with a “practice more, it gets easier when you do. “

• Id give him a 6/10 just because I don’t imagine him being the best with someone shy, but at the same time with his controlling nature he manages

Kizaru | Borsalino

• God help you, this man will tease you non stop

• “ ooohh can you repeat that my love ? I didn’t heaaar youu ~ “

• In all seriousness, he simply fawns over how shy you are, and finds it endearing. He’s always pinching your cheeks and rubbing your head, you’re simply adorable to him

• He would do anything for you, including ordering for you and making calls on your behalf, yknow how you always have your mom go with you to doctors appointments? Kizaru is now your mom, and will gladly hold your hand while you get a shot but that’s a story for another imagine- don’t expect him to not tease you though

• 10/10, he’d take great care of someone shy !

Aokiji | Kuzan

• He’s definitely drawn to you. Whether it be your quiet nature, or your bashful exterior around others, you’ve gained his attention

• You’re both quiet around each other, over time you’ve learned to communicate with just looks alone, it’s quite humorous

• Aokiji is lazy. Like, this is a known fact, do NOT expect him to make phone calls or even order, because he can’t even get his own work done on time -

• He supports from afar, so if you need reassurance, the most you’d get is a pat on the back and a “ you’ve got this baby “ * insert eye roll here*

• He won’t tolerate people walking over you though and at that point WILL urge you to say something

• Aokiji does his best to show you that he’s supportive, the problem is, he didn’t fear people in a way that you do, so he doesn’t particularly understand why you do better in some situations then others-

• Definitely voices how proud he is of you though, he always praises you <3

• id give him a 7/10 with a shy partner

Fujitora | Issho

• The absolute sweetest of all the admirals, he already loves when you hold his arm when you walk, so if you feel nervous, link arms with him, guide him, he’ll gladly follow and make you feel so safe

• Is ALWAYS patient with you and memorizes your orders, if you want him to order first or for both of you he’ll gladly do so with no complaints. While you order he’ll have his hand rubbing up and down your back or simply on your back to show his support <3

• He always sticks up for you and reassures you that being shy/quiet is perfectly fine, but letting people walk over you because of your failure to voice your opinions or requests is not, he lets you know that what you have to say is important, just like anyone else

• He, like Kizaru, finds you simply adorable and cannot resist squishing your face and kissing you when you’ve done something successful, he’s so over the moon and beyond proud of you !

• 10/10 with a shy partner <3<3<3

Sengoku

• Sengoku would do pretty good with a shy S/O, I think he would love having someone to definitely balance him out personality wise

• Garp brings out his goofy/childish side, and you bring out his calm and collected side

• your quiet/shy nature makes him feel like he has to provide and stick up for you, it gives him a protective feeling over you, he’d be a mouth piece if needed but he doesn’t want to undermine you

• Much like Akainu, he likes to be in charge, so ordering the food or making calls is definitely up his alley much to your relief, though if you want to try he’d be more than happy to help you !

• his goat is your emotional support animal

• In all seriousness though Sengoku can be very supportive and loving, he never lets anyone talk over you and definitely lightens your mood with jokes if you’re feeling nervous or overwhelmed

• I’d give him a 9/10 with a shy S/O

[stopaskinf]

Drunk Dude in the Bathroom

(Hoshi x fem!black!reader)

Summary: The title really says it all. You try to go piss during a party and find Hoshi crying in the bathroom.

Genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers???, college AU

Word count: Around 0.8K

CW: none fr, mentions of drinking, crying and bodily functions. Hoshi being a cornball who thinks you’re hot.

You need to piss. The combination of drinks and getting distracted by music at this party was terrible for your bladder.

You ask your friend Youngji where the bathroom is. She knows way more about this place than you do.

“Its upstairs near the left. Can’t miss it!” She practically screams.

You give her a thumbs up as you start walking up the steps. Heels were a bad option. After an eternity, You finally reach the bathroom, thank god. If you had to hold it a second longer, you would have pissed on the floor. However, as soon as you open the door, you’re met with muffled blubbering from behind the shower curtain.

Throwing caution to the wind, you open the curtain to find a handsome and drunk blonde man holding a bag of ice like a well-loved childhood plushie.

“Umm…You good?”

He sniffles and loosens his grip on the ice bag. He looks up at you with puffy eyes, unshed tears still shining.

“Yes-no..I..just-did you know most tiger cubs don’t survive their first year of life?” He cries.

What the fuck. He’s clearly gone.

“...I did not know that.” You say baffled.

“Hey, why are you in-”

“You’re so pretty.” He says glossy-eyed.

Your face goes hot.

“Thank you, but listen-” You stutter out.

“Like super pretty, like you look like Naomi Campbell mixed with Megan thee Stallion.”

High praise.

“That's very sweet of you.” You give a shy smile.

He gives a toothy smile while he blushes.

“You’re welcome, pretty lady.” He cheeses.

Ok. You’re getting off track. You still need to piss. You’ve got to get this guy out of the bathroom.

“Hey, what’s your sign?” He asks as he shifts in the tub to get more comfortable.

He treats it like a children sized bed.

“I-I’m an aquarius.” You answer puzzled.

He lets go of his bag of ice and flaps his arms while making an excited squealing noise.

“Oh my god, oh my god, that explains everything!”

Does it?

“Yknow that explains why you’re so pretty! Aquariuses’ are always so like otherworldly. Real goddess energy. OOOOHH and we’re compatible cause I’m a Gemini! Air signs for the win!” He practically yells as he stumbles to get up from the tub and give you a high five? A hug? You’re not sure. Either way, he ends up wobbling and almost falling face first out of the tub. So, in an act of quick thinking, you catch him.

“Bro, are you good?” You ask worriedly. He’s really fucking gone.

He ends up hugging you, either in an attempt to keep himself steady or to bask in your warmth. You’re not sure.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just had a little too much to drink. By the way, you smell crazy good. What perfume do you use? And your skin is so soft! What products are you using? Also, are you seeing anyone? I don’t want to be a creep, but I hate to get you in trouble and you’re really cute.”

You chuckle as you hold him. It should feel uncomfortable holding a 6-foot stranger in a small bathroom, but he makes it feel natural.

“ I can tell that much just by looking at you. First, It’s a Valentino one, I forgot the name. Second, Shea butter. Third, no.”

You feel him hold you tighter and give out a small “yay” as he nuzzles into you.

“Oh my god, you know what would slap right now?” he says as he excitedly grabs your shoulders.

“What?” You ask.

“Well, first, some chicken nuggets. God, I’m starving. DK never has any actual food in the dorms and it sucks balls. He’s still a great guy though, I’ll have to introduce you two later. Oh, I totally forgot, we’re also roomies, so, you’ve probably already seen him. Lanky dude, sharp nose, great teeth?” He rambles.

“He sounds familiar.”

You feel his hands grab your face, you feel the cold metal of his rings contrast his warm hands and your hot face.

“Yeah that’s him. Oh my god, wait, I also want an Oreo McFlurry. When does Mcdonalds close?” He asks excitedly while slowly stroking your face.

“Aren’t they open 24 hours?”

He gasps and his eyes shine. He squeals and sways you both back and forth while holding your face in his hands.

“You’re so right! Sexy, strong, and smart! The big 3 S’s! We totally need to go! Please?” He pleads.

You give a soundless laugh and nod your head. This is definitely going to be a good night.

[whimsicalpolitical]

Ross trying to cheer up a sick reader in hospital? I just had a surgery and I’m also in hospital and would like some comfort from my favourite man ❤️

much love to you and I hope you have a good recovery ❤️‍🩹

content warning: surgery pain, pure fluff

────────────────────────

The sterile scent of antiseptic and the beeping of nearby monitors greet you as your eyes flutter open. The room is dim, the only light coming from a small lamp beside your bed. You blink, trying to make sense of your surroundings, when you feel a warm hand envelop yours.

„You’re awake,“ a familiar voice murmurs softly. You turn your head and find Ross sitting by your side, his eyes filled with concern and relief.

"Ross," you croak, your throat dry.

"Shh, don't try to talk too much," he says gently, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

You shift slightly, wincing as a dull ache reminds you of your injury. The memory of the accident comes rushing back—how you had slipped and fallen, the sharp pain shooting through your leg. "Sore," you admit. "But better, I think."

"That's good to hear," Ross says, a small smile tugging at his lips. "The surgery went well. The doctor said you're going to be just fine."

You sigh, a mix of relief and frustration washing over you. "I just want to go home," you whine, pouting slightly. "How long do I have to stay here?"

“They want to keep you for a few days, love. Just to make sure there are no complications and that your leg starts healing properly." Ross squeezes your hand gently, his eyes soft with understanding.

“I hate hospitals,” you complain, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, maybe trying to convince him to let you leave early.

“Tell you what,” Ross leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "I'll stay right here with you and make sure you're alright. How does that sound?"

"Promise?" you ask,your voice small.

"Promise," he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "Now, is there anything you need? Water, maybe?"

You think for a moment, then puckere your lips slightly. Ross raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh, I see how it is," he says, laughing softly.

You nod, unable to suppress a smile. "Please?"

Ross leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It was brief but filled with all the love and care he has for you. When he pulls back, his eyes are twinkling. "There, better?"

“Much better," you say, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with the hospital room's temperature.

"Good," Ross said, settling back into his chair. “Now, if you need anything else you let me know alright?”

“I will,” you offer him a genuine smile before speaking again. “Did the others see how it happened?” You mean the accident and Ross knows.

Ross's smile turns sympathetic, but there is a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Yeah, Matty was right there."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Oh no, that's so embarrassing."

Ross laughs, gently taking your hands away from your face, “Love, it’s alright. Besides everyone was more worried than thought it was amusing.” He comforts you.

“If any of those wankers had laughed, I would have smashed their face against a wall.” He’s joking but it makes you laugh and he smiles as well.

You look into his eyes, feeling overwhelmed with affection. "I love you, Ross."

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. "I love you too. More than anything."

You pucker your lips again, and Ross laughs, shaking his head. "You're insatiable, you know that?"

"Only for you," you reply with a playful glint in your eyes.

Ross leans in for another kiss, this one lingering a bit longer. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. "You make it very hard to say no," he murmurs.

"Good," you whisper, closing your eyes and savoring the moment.

Ross sighs contentedly. "Alright, how about I get us some snacks from the vending machine? Hospital food is terrible."

You smile, squeezing his hand. "Sounds perfect.”

With a chuckle, he walks out of the room, leaving you with a warm, happy feeling. No matter how long you had to stay in the hospital, you know you'd be okay with Ross by your side.

When Ross returns, he carries an assortment of snacks and a bottle of water. "I got us a little feast," he says with a grin, setting the items on the bedside table.

You can’t help but laugh. "Thanks, Ross. You always know how to make things better."

He sits down beside you again, opening the bottle of water. "Only the best for my favorite patient," he teases, handing you the bottle.

He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb.

[solomons-poison]

Ugh I saved the asks to my drafts to work on it and now Tumblr won't let me edit it so I'm tagging you instead 😑 @yarnnerdally This one kind of escaped the requested prompt but I hope you enjoy lol

♞: Caring for each other while ill

Pairing: Nanami Kento x GN!reader

When you first heard a sneeze in your classroom, a feeling of dread immediately filled your chest. You tried to brush it off, attribute it to simple allergies or some dust. But once your other students started to sneeze as well, you knew what was coming. It was cold and flu season, and everyone seemed to be coming down with something, leaving you surrounded by the sick.

You had tried your best to maintain distance with your students and keep up with hygiene and sanitation, but it was too late by then. It was to no one's surprise when you fell ill, sniffling and coughing and sore all over. Poor Nanami had recently moved in with you, and between training the same students and sharing a space with you, he quickly followed suit.

Despite Gojo's repeated efforts and offers to look after you both, you and Nanami decided to quarantine in your home instead, thankfully recently stocked with tissues and cold medicine. It was a little strange at first, admittedly, being stuck together like this without your students to interrupt. But perhaps this was the opportunity for some one on one time with your boyfriend.

You knew, deep down, that Nanami was a caretaker. It was evident in the way he handled the students, always thoughtful and caring in the way he spoke to them and taught them how to fight. But it became even more apparent in his care for you. Although he was equally as sick, the man was unstoppable, cooking warm, comforting food for you and fetching you things for your fever and cough. Often times, he knew what you needed before even you knew, warming your heart at just how sweet he was. So you did your best to reciprocate, making him rice porridge, tea with honey, and getting him warm compresses for his aching muscles. You were both suffering, but at least, you supposed, you were suffering together.

The whole situation was also giving you terrible daydreams of what married life would be like with Nanami. You didn't like to assume where the relationship was going, although him moving in wasn't a minor move by any means, especially by his standards. But as he showed his expert skills at caring for you, you just couldn't help it.

Gojo, who had been checking up on the two of you daily, seemed to pick up on your feelings without even mentioning it to him, something you always found irritating about him just as much as it was useful. Just as the same daydream began to cross your mind again, your phone chimed with an incoming text.

[7:26PM] Satoru☆: soooo what do you think Nanamin would be like when you're married? 💒

You could feel your face heat up at the question, and you knew the cause wasn't your cold. Thankfully Nanami was busy cooking dinner, giving you time to respond, but you could imagine the exasperated sigh he'd let out if he caught sight of Gojo's message.

[7:29PM] You: We literally just moved in together, we're not even thinking of marriage yet

It was a lie, but you'd be damned if you'd admit your daydreams to Gojo so easily.

[7:30PM] Satoru☆: oh please, moving in together is the same as getting married for him

[7:31PM] Satoru☆: and anyway you can't tell me that him taking care of you doesn't make you think about it?

Damn him and his annoying perceptiveness. You deigned not to answer his question, but Gojo never made it easy to ignore him, as your phone blew up with several more messages.

[7:35PM] Satoru☆: cmonnnnn Y/N you know you've thought of it ;)

[7:36PM] Satoru☆: Y/NNNNNN

[7:37PM] Satoru☆: helloooooooo

[7:38PM] Satoru☆: you can't ignore me forever, you know you've thought about husband Nanamin before 💖

You couldn't help the exasperated sound that left your mouth, rolling your eyes at his childish behavior. You finally went to reply to his texts when someone took the phone out of your hands. Looking up, Nanami now held your phone, looking at you worriedly before glancing at the contact name on your phone.

"I was trying to tell you dinner is ready, but you weren't responding. I heard your phone keep going off so I thought something happened, but I see now it's just a pest," he said, brows furrowing in distaste. Nanami always tried to shield you from the annoyances of his colleague, making you smile.

"It's just Gojo. He's just being silly while he checks up on us. It's nothing to worry about," you said.

"I see," he replied, now looking over the text messages. You worried for a moment about what he would say, but Nanami simply huffed before typing out a response.

[7:41PM] You: This is husband Nanamin. Stop texting my spouse or I will have to block you.

He quickly sent the message, not allowing you to see what he wrote, before setting your phone to silent and tossing it onto the couch. He then pulled you up and into his arms, his face finally relaxing.

"That should distract him for a little bit. Now, come eat some dinner prepared by your loving husband," he said, leaning down to peck your lips.

Instantly, you could feel your cheeks burning, and you struggled for a response. Nanami only smiled at you before turning to the kitchen, leaving you a flustered mess. Perhaps getting sick was the best thing that could have happened to you two.

[lionlena]

You're hot... (JavierPeñaxsick!reader)

So, this is a surprise for @creedslove​

I hope you feel a little better after reading this. You deserve Javi to take care of you, honey.

Warnings: None, just fluff

You liked Javier Peña. He was your boss and you thought he was the right man to take down the Cali Cartel. You've heard what others have said about him. That when he was chasing Escobar, he was working with Los Pepes. That he was an asshole... a manwhore. And yet, you couldn't think badly of him. Maybe because he was nice to you from the start. He never ordered you do something. He always used the word "please." It was the same this time: "Y/N, can you sort the papers I left on the couch in my office, please. I have to do something urgent and I don't know if I'll be back today."

And how could you refuse? First, he was your boss. Secondly, he was looking at you with those puppy brown eyes. And three, he was so damn hot.

Unfortunately, you were having a hard time sorting the documents. Normally you handled these things better, but today you felt bad. You had runny nose and a headache since morning, but you thought it was just a slight cold.

You ran your hand across your forehead, "Damm, why is it so hot in here?"

You looked around your boss's office and groaned. There was still a pile of papers on his desk. It was early evening, everyone else had gone home, and you were terribly tired. You looked at the couch. Maybe if you lie down for 10 minutes, your work will go faster after a nap. You just close your eyes. For while.

You curled up into a ball and fell asleep.

You woke up to the feeling of something pleasantly cool touching your forehead. You stretched, opened your eyes... Jesus Christ!!!

Warm brown eyes looked at you with tenderness. Javier Peña, your boss, caught you sleeping at work and was now kneeling by the couch, dangerously close to your face. You didn't know what to say. He spoke first.

"You're hot."

Okay, maybe you just dreamed it.

"Umm... Thank you, I guess."

Javier let out a small chuckle.

"I mean you're hot, you've got a fever, hermosa."

Well, if you had a fever, it was Javier who made you hot as hell.

You sat down awkwardly, being careful not to hit him in the process as Javier was still kneeling by the couch. You looked half-consciously around the office and realized with horror that you had fallen asleep for over two hours.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry... I was going to finish sorting the papers, but..." A sudden shiver went through your body. "I was so tired."

Javier started looking around, you thought he was looking for documents, but it turned out he was looking for something for you. When he realized there wasn't any blanket around, he got up and took off his jacket, then placed it over your shoulders. The material was warmed by his body and you immediately felt better. You have blushed, but he couldn't see it because of the fever.

"Don't worry about it. I shouldn't put so much work on you."

"It's nothing," you whined.

"I'll drive you home."

"What about the documents?"

"Fuck it," he said and extended his hand to you.

All the way to his car, he held you gently and you couldn't help but snuggle into his body. You were sick. You needed comfort, and he obviously didn't mind. As you sat in the car, he asked you for your address and if you needed anything from the store. Medicines? Food? He was so caring. Would others call him "an asshole", now? He certainly wasn't like that in your eyes.

Javier came home with you. He made sure you had the medications you needed. He made you sit on the couch saying, "I'll make you some hot tea."

"You don't have to. I'll be better soon. I have leftover soup in the fridge, I'll warm it up and eat it.”

He shook his head and covered you with the blanket you always kept on the couch. You were still wearing his jacket, but he didn't seem to care.

"Sit here. I'll take care of everything." He raised his eyebrows. "It's official order from boss."

You didn't have the strength to argue with him. You were so comfortable on the couch. You've been watching your boss move swiftly around your kitchen. He warmed up the soup, made you some tea, and set it on the table along with the pills. Then he sat next to you and made sure you ate everything. It was quite funny.

"You know, I'm not a baby," you murmured.

"I would have believed it if I hadn't found you sleeping in my office with a high fever."

You put your head down and whispered:

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't fall asleep there."

You felt Javier put his hand on your knee.

"No, it's not like that. I'm not mad at you for falling asleep. I just don't understand why you agreed to help me if you weren't feeling well?"

You looked at him and shrugged. What happened next was like a dream. Javier gently stroked your cheek.

"Next time tell me you're not feeling well." He got up and grabbed the empty soup bowl. "You're free tomorrow. Rest while I clean up."

You ran out of words. Your boss pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and went to wash your dishes. Normally you'd feel embarrassed, but after you ate the warm soup and took your medicine, you were really ready to go to sleep. And Javier's jacket smelled of his perfume. You lay down and fell into a light sleep.

What happened next must have been a figment of your imagination.

Before leaving your apartment, Javier leaned over you and kissed your forehead whispering:

"Que duermas bien, mi dulce"

You might even think it was all a figment of your fever-ridden mind, but when you woke up in the morning you were still wrapped in his jacket. You smiled. Maybe Javier Peña was an asshole, but not to you.

[lychniis]

⚘ — I PINE FOR YOUR LAUGHTER.

i. SYNOPSIS : there were moments of warmth and softness. you might be crazy saying this, but you might be more than a little in love with them. ( submission for the genshin impact white day event ). ( cyno / wanderer x gn ! reader )

ii. WARNING(S) : no warnings, just plain fluff save for wanderer being a slight douche ( it's wanderer ) and some swearing ( it's wanderer ). sharing one bed trope, modern ! au for cyno, scara cannot braid ( he's so bad ), hair pulling because scara cannot braid ( this is the life of bougie kids ). my submission for the genshin impact white day event and gift for @asoftspotforangels. i hope you like it!!!. NOT PROOFREAD.

# masterlist

&& . cyno · ( the light flickers off ; but the tent is warm )

THERE IS LITTLE ERROR IN Cyno’s methods when it comes to camping, you learn. His judgment was reliable and his process was safe enough with a novice at his side ( he had done this countless times before, with and without you, and you try to comfort yourself with that ) and he was one of the better camping partners amongst your friends. He hardly made much of a mess or threw much of a fuss, and his presence was amicable if not distant.

“He’s alright.” you had told Kaveh when he voiced his concerns. “Cyno’s not going to leave me in the middle of the woods to fend for myself. He’s not like that. I trust him.”

You trust him.

But your hands still shake when you help him straighten out the tent ( and it feels like someone unleashed a flurry of butterflies in your stomach ), and they shake harder when a single sleeping bag is unrolled and his impassive stare trains upon it. You half assume something was wrong, that this night was a bust and an hour long trip back to Sumeru City was due.

“I forgot another one.” he states, and his brow furrows, dispelling any creeping inklings of doubt that threaten the corner of your mind. Cyno wasn’t so forgetful, so petty. He certainly wouldn’t deceive you ( right…? ).

"What?"

"I forgot another sleeping bag."

Oh...

Oh...

This was...unlike him...

“Okay…” you swallow. “I could use a blanket instead.” It's a polite offer from a friend ( because that’s what you are, you remind yourself over and over and over like a record on loop when you look at him ).In truth, the thought of sharing his heat, of his arms resting around you cocooned in a space so small — you hardly think your brain could function.

Cyno mulls over it for a moment, then another, his head tilting to the side as it always does when his thoughts fill his mind with different ideas and opinions. It was his thinking face, people state. Or his 'secretly planning a murder' face.

Finally his hands drop to his side. “Absolutely not.” he decides and there is an edge of finality in the way he speaks. The warm shade of his eyes pierce you in the spot, quietly scrutinizing you for any weak attempts of protesting. “Besides, the night is cold. I don’t want you to freeze over.”

I won’t freeze over; you’re just making excuses dammit —

He was a stubborn man, Cyno and his words were law under the ground rules of camping. It was one of his constants, something to stir up against his reliability and the safety he exudes, and after eating some canned soup and some food he brought in for dinner, you slip into the sleeping bag, with him following after.

His hair tickles the back of your neck and his breath was a warm prickle upon your chilled skin — you felt everything and nothing at the same time — from the slowly fading numbness of your fingertips, to the arm that snakes around you.

Yep, you were going to die — any second now.

“I know you feel like we’re in a tight spot right now…but I won’t do anything that would case you any distress.'' Despite the situation, the terrible joke makes you smile a bit. “Tight spot?” he tests with the driest tone in existence. “Oh wait, I think you’re smiling…you’re doing fine?”

“I'm okay.” you know you’re lying and you know Cyno can catch on to it. “I just need a moment to adapt…” 

“Are you sure — ”

Your hand moves a bit and you squirm in place till your fingers lace against Cyno’s and you let out a shaky breath. At least you could find some sense of control now and the thought makes you feel better.

Cyno lets out a strained sound as his words still and whatever sentence he was about to stutter was lost to the abyss. “You alright?” you echo his question and you feel a little bad for teasing him. But you're smiling now. You're trying not to laugh ( he'd hardly be bothered by it anyway ).

“Yeah.”

If you’d turned, you’d have seen the shy droop to his eyes and the flush on his cheeks. The flashlight lighting up the tent flickers off when your eyes grow heavy and sleep tugs at your consciousness. Cyno’s forehead pressing up against your shoulder was the last you feel when you drift off.

This is fine, you tell yourself. This is fine.

Morning is another story to deal with.

&& . wanderer · ( these hands of his ; has much to learn )

HE CURSES ONCE, twice, thrice as he combs away a few more knots, fingers bent and his brow creased. The man behind you went by the moniker ‘the wanderer’ and he refuses to peel away any more layers save for the callous courtesy and snide comments on top and that, you realize, was why you find this situation strange.

Was he a friend? Perhaps. There was an ache when you’d see him, an instinctive mix of anxiety and admiration that stems from the pit of your stomach and a place so old you doubt you remember. It was persistent, like the patter of rain and the falling of dew in the Avidya Forest, it was like grasping in the dark for a face of a voice that whispered into your ear as a babe, or the lingering warmth of a hug. 

Sometimes, he looks at you with the air of someone tired, of someone meeting an old friend . It flickers through the cracks, then it’s gone — covered up as quick as it came.

He first came to you as a stranger, his inexperienced hands teaching himself how to sew a doll and you gently guided him through. Now he teaches himself how to braid your hair, his lack of skill shining through with every absent tug and uncomfortable poke. You wince every time he swears till you pull your head away.

“Stay still!” he snaps, his frustrated grimace deepening as he steadies your shoulders and holds you in place. “Give me a moment, let me figure this out — FUCK!” he pulls on your hair again and the braid falls undone, the meager progress he made now unwinding into a mess. “Dammit.”

He leans back, indigo eyes holding back an unbridled storm as the hair tie slips onto the ground and he glowers at you. “You’re the one pulling my hair.” you snap in turn, massaging the ache in your scalp. The Wanderer wrinkles his nose.

“You’re the one who asked me to braid your hair in the first place.” 

“You could have just said ‘no’. I wasn’t forcing you!” 

He looks unimpressed, tossing the hair tie your way with a huff while the few looking over the bickering seem to bend their heads down and hide their faces. An old lady does not bother, her amusement lining her face and wrinkles as she makes for the two of you, the Wanderer glancing up with a stiff set to his jaw when he notices.

( You knew the softer parts of him, where his crassness never met the ears of the children or the elderly. You wonder why he would never treat you the same way. )

“If you two need any help, I wouldn't mind lending some advice.” she supplies and the smile she wears is brilliant and it is kind. Some of your anger eases away.

“We wouldn’t want to be a bother…but thank you.” “Nonsense.” she laughs, her eyes seeming to peer at an unspoken joke she caught on to. You do not see what she sees, with your youthful gaze. “Now you there, young man?”

The Wanderer straightens his back.

“You’re too impatient. Take your time bridging their hair. It’s no wonder you keep tangling it up. Should it get too messy, comb through the ends a few times.” you listen to her instruct him, and apart from the absent pulls, he was far gentler now, careful, almost. The elder departs and the Wanderer continues on.

His touch was soft. And it was hesitant.

“How come you’ve never learned how to braid hair before…?” you finally ask.

“How come you haven’t?”

“I always kept mine short…or my parents would do it for me. I suppose I let it grow out before I even noticed…” you let out a sheepish laugh, at how stupid you sounded, at how stupid the answer even was. The Wanderer hums, seemingly taking it in.

You catch a flash of color from the corner of your eye and you smell something sweet. He lets your hair go, now braided, its messiness and inexperienced winding covered up by flowers pinned on alongside the tie. 

You fall silent. He looks at you, his indigo eyes shadowed beneath his hat.

“It’s beautiful.” you mutter, feeling your cheeks war,.

“...Right.” he lets out a soft exhale. “Well then, since you’ve just admitted to being absolutely pathetic at basic hair care…” he pauses. “I suppose you could call me again.”

“Again…? You repeat and you smile.

His ears turn pink and you think you see a flash of sadness and of longing.

“Don’t get used to it.”

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

*lies down* i hope you enjoyed this! this is the first time i wrote either of these two characters so there was so much for me to get a grasp on kjnbvbnjk. but it was still fun writing all of this down and i hope i could dip my fingers into thinking up more wanderer and cyno content some time.

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AINE | 2023. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[skoulsons]

Dialing In All Your Pheromones

• gif from @olisgifs

• title from Novo Amor’s song “Terraform”

Relationships: Joel and Ellie

Word count: ~2800

Authors note: Just some father and daughter fluff :) If you ship them I will tie you to a table and force you to eat wet bread. This is the first proper fic I’ve ever written, so please be kind <3 I do have a ton of other wips I’d love to post eventually, if I ever finish them. But, for right now, enjoy this!

Summary: based entirely on this post which sent me into cardiac arrest when I first read it.

(Thank you to my lovely beta readers @ellie-licious @sunflower-0180 @swinging-stars-from-satellites *I was too antsy to post but thank you still!!*)

~~~

Note- I know she rode that one horse into Jackson in episode 6, but we’re going to ignore that for the sake of this. I don’t know, say they just walked them there. Or Ellie sat behind him. I’m just saying that she’s never sat and lead/steered a horse on her own before. Also, I know almost nothing about horses, only what I find out through google. So, apologies in advance if I get something terribly wrong or weird

-

Ellie never knew comfort like she did right now. A different comfort to her warm bed on a rainy day or even a lukewarm shower after FEDRA school drills around the gym. A comforting presence. A grounding presence that she could touch. The presence her heartbeat would match with and she could steady her breathing alongside. This presence in a man she has her cheek pressed against and her arms wrapped around, her fingers linking together in front of his stomach.

When she’s not bothering him with questions about construction, Tommy, or foods from Before, or she’s not taking a nap against his back, she kicks at his ankles with the tips of her feet. He ignored it the first two days, simply letting out a sigh when she’d tap his boots in a rhythmic manner, clicking her tongue to make a beat. But now, he kicks back at her, a smile on his face as they fight with their boots against Callus’ side. Joel always knew he won after a defeated “ow…” came from behind him as she shifted her weight to rub her ankles to relieve the pain.

“You kick too hard,” she grumbled, placing her forehead against his back and readjusting her hands to his sides.

Joel smiled, “Ain’t kicking you that hard.”

“Then why’s it still hurt?”

“Need s’more meat on your bones, you’ll be able to take it better,” he argued.

“Or you could kick softer,” she challenged, earning a laugh from him. It reverberated through his chest and back and through her forehead, forming a small, almost reluctant smile on her lips at the feel of it. It felt…warm.

“Sorry, kiddo. Not an option,” he smiled, throwing the lightest kick he could to her foot, just to tease her.

“Oh, funny,” she huffed, leaning defeated into his winter coat.

They continued riding a few more hours, passing car pile ups, fallen over utility poles that stretched across every lane, and overturned tractor trailers. They were getting closer to the highway. Ellie’s cheek was pressed against his back again, arms against his stomach as she held onto each of her wrists to keep a tight hold around him. Callus’ trotting kept a slight bounce in their step, and with the added velvet material of his coat and the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat in her ear, she couldn’t help but relax into his back.

Joel turned his head to the side, trying to get sight of Ellie behind him. She had been still against him the last few minutes. “Ellie?”

“Hm?” she mumbled, sleepiness present in her voice.

“You want to switch?”

Ellie perked up immediately, beaming at the salt and pepper mix on the back of his head. “Really?”

“Yeah, before we stop for the night. That okay with you?”

“Yeah, man!” She shouted, excitedly tapping the sides of his arms at a rapid rate, half expecting her tapping to make Joel slow Callus down faster the quicker she tapped.

Joel brought Callus to a stop along the shoulder of the road (old habit with driving, he claims) as Ellie climbed off first, nearly bouncing with excitement as her feet hit the mossy asphalt. Joel climbed down after her, keeping a hand on Callus’ shoulder as Ellie is nearly glowing beside him, stepping up close to the saddle.

“Alright, gimme your foot,” he instructed, squatting down and linking his fingers together underneath her left boot as she swung her right leg over the saddle. Her feet barely reach the stirrup once she’s in the saddle, so Joel leads her boot through as the tip of her boot grazes the iron.

“Hold on to both,” Joel says, handing the reins to her lap once she’s settled into the saddle.

She eyed him sarcastically, “I know, Joel,” she said, grabbing hold of the reins. “You need a hand up, old man?”

“Cute,” he scoffed, putting his left foot through the stirrup and swinging his right overtop Callus, grabbing Ellie’s shoulder briefly to stabilize himself.

“You just doing this so you can kick my feet better?”

“Mmm,” he hums, raising his eyebrows in consideration, a slight smile on his face. It wasn’t his intention, but since she mentioned it-

“No…” she starts.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he reassures.

-

It was nice. Holding her. Getting to have her against his chest. To keep his arms at her sides as she settles into the saddle.

You’re not my daughter. And I sure as hell ain’t your dad.

He hadn’t meant it. Not really. It was a mess of feelings. His inadequacy and fear. His need for her to be protected, just not by him. And for her to shove him and tell him she cares about him? For him to tell her he cares about her, without missing a beat? Course I do. He didn’t even think when he said it, it came out as clear as any other truth he’s ever spoken to her. Because that’s what it was; truth.

But to say she wasn’t his daughter was the furthest thing from the truth. Over the last three days (their whole journey, really), she was nothing but that. Teaching her how to shoot, start a fire, and do the ‘dressin’’ part of their hunting. Those and the teasing, laughing, bickering, and earth-shattering annoyance with each other is what really sold the family unit. He lied to himself, and he hopes Ellie isn’t thinking about it nearly as much as he is.

Getting to hold her almost felt like his way of apologizing. Of taking back what he said and telling her ‘I’m sorry.’ He’d never say it aloud, but he hopes she gets it, even just a little bit.

“Joel?” She asks, breaking him from his thoughts. “You with me? You haven’t moved or spoken and I don’t exactly know how to get Callus going.”

“I’m good,” he reassures, squeezing her side gently and offering a smile that was more for him than her. “…wait, Callus?”

“Yeah, it’s what I named him. Tommy didn’t exactly tell us his name, so…figured I’d give him one.”

“And you went with Callus?”

“Listen, man, it was the first thing I thought of! Besides, I think it fits him well,” she tries, praising herself at the name she’d given him. “Anyway, I was scared I’d do something wrong and he’d fling us off or something, I don’t know,” she admits.

“He won’t fling us off, kiddo. Well, you maybe…”

“Hey!” She said, throwing her heel back and making contact with his shin.

“Alright, alright. Here-” he started, moving his left hand from her side to both of her hands, grabbing the reins from her as she dropped her hands in her lap. “Hold the reins overhand, like this,” he demonstrated, the reins held securely in the curl of his fingers. “You don’t gotta hold ‘em real tight, just enough so they’re secure in your grip.” He turned his hand over, palm to the sky as the reins draped across his hand. “Show me.”

“Right hand or left?”

“Whichever you want. I use my left so I can draw my revolver or knife easier, but it’s up to you,” he said, reins still draped across his hand.

She brings her left up from her lap, taking the reins from Joel’s hand and holding them as Joel showed her; secure grip in the curl of her fingertips.

“Good,” he said, his left hand falling back her side as his right came up to her shoulder, gently adding pressure. “Release the tension in your shoulders, too. I can feel it all the way back here.”

She rolled her eyes at the comment, but obliged and inhaled deep, held it for three seconds, and exhaled, letting her shoulders fall as she did. Joel’s hand stayed on her until she relaxed, reverting back to her waist when she did.

“Now, for walkin’, It’s easy. You just gotta give him a little squeeze with your legs.” Joel glanced down to where her legs fell, noting how close they were to Callus’ shoulder. “Keep your feet away from him now, cause if they nudge him, he’ll think it’s time to go when you may not be ready,” he explained, Ellie nodding in understanding. “Now, gently squeeze your feet to his side. Gently,” he repeated, wanting them to start slow.

Callus started walking as Ellie tapped his shoulders with her feet, letting them fall back to a more relaxed position in the open air beside him. A toothy grin grew on her face knowing she was the one doing this, not Joel. “Whoa,” she smiled, barely a whisper as the clop-clop of Callus hooves stepped along the pavement.

“How he responds and reacts comes down to your weight in the saddle and any pressure in your legs against him,” Joel explained, Ellie nodding in understanding again as she watched Callus’ mane wave back and forth slightly. “Here, gently tap your feet against him again.”

Ellie did as instructed, tapping her feet against Callus’ shoulders once again. The signal against him made him go from walking to a trot, Ellie letting out a small “whoa,” at the change of pace. Her right hand went to the reins, holding a little tighter to the ropes with both her hands. She felt Joel hold a little tighter to her sides, keeping her steady.

Joel noticed her tightened grip on the reins and he gave her left side a gentle squeeze, as well as attempting a, “hey, relax,” but no words came to him. She didn’t need them. They didn’t need them. One squeeze was enough for her to hear him, and she let her right hand go from the reins, letting her hand fall back in her lap as she inhaled, held for three seconds, and exhaled, letting her shoulders fall again as Callus carried the two of them along in his trot.

After about five minutes of the steady trot, Joel broke the silence. “Alright, Ellie, try and make yourself feel a bit heavier in the saddle and gently squeeze your thighs against him, don’t tap your feet.”

“Feel heavy, squeeze thighs. Gentle…” she repeated to herself, squeezing her legs against Callus gently as he slowed his trotting to walking. Ellie let out a breath as she smiled, craning her neck around to look at Joel, the two of them sharing a smile together.

Joel rubbed his right hand up and down her waist lightly, commending her. “Good job, kiddo.’

“Can we gallop?”

“Ah, no.”

“Joel, please?” She draws out her ‘please’, leaning her head against his chest with a goofy, over-the-top grin on her face.

“You keep askin’ and I may just have to take the lead again.”

“No,” she breathed, a hint of offense in her voice, though sarcastic. She sits up from his chest, her posture straightening as she continues watching Callus’ mane flow back and forth as the clop-clop of his hooves fill their silence

-

They stay in a gentle walk for miles as the sun sets, creating a glow of orange, pink, and a dim purple across the horizon, stratocumulus clouds highlighted by the contrasting colors.

“Joel?” She asks, voice seemingly smaller than normal. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from a day of traveling. Or maybe it’s the setting.

“Hmm?”

“Look, the sunset.” She throws her right hand up in front of them, pointer finger haphazardly out in a pointing motion, like she needed to point to the incredible painting-like view in front of them that nearly covered the whole sky. His head perks up over her beanie from where he kept it down in thought, taking in the view. It was really nice. He could hear her breathing change to controlled, stable breaths. Content breathing as she paused after each inhale and exhale. Joel smiles to himself as he notices the light from the sunset creating a glow overtop her beanie and one shaping Callus’ muzzle. He smiles to himself, knowing that Ellie’s face is definitely also glowing, and it’s not from the sunset alone.

Ellie lets out a content sigh as she drops against Joel’s chest, letting her weight fall against him. Joel smiles at the contact. This is new for them, really new, but it’s nice. The comforting presence they bring to each other; the security. He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t grow a size or two with these moments. Or even three or four when he wraps his arms around her a little tighter as she lets out another sigh against his chest, his chin coming down to set atop her beanie.

Joel’s not one to let his guard down, especially not in the open like this. He always has one eye open, one foot in the door. Always looking for an exit or being extra keen on their surroundings, despite his lesser hearing on his right side.

But right now is an exception to that; to what he’s built up so heavily the past twenty years. He unclenches his jaw as his face relaxes in the cotton of her beanie. He holds his own forearms with each opposite hand, arms against her abdomen. He holds far enough up his own forearms that they press against her, keeping her securely held against his chest.

Joel closes his eyes. For a brief moment, he succumbs to the embrace; to the gentle clop of Callus’ hooves, the calm breeze occasionally blowing Ellie’s loose ponytail hairs into the air, and her breathing against his chest. How her shoulders rise and fall with his; how they’re in rhythm with each other.

His lips find the top of her beanie and he inhales deeply, exhales just as deep. It’s so familiar to him, physical touch. Holding her face, snuggling together on the couch for movie nights, her holding his ovenmit of a hand during trips to Walmart, and kissing her forehead when they’d say goodnight. And man if he doesn’t curse at how strikingly easy it is to fall back to those old ways when this little girl is against him, his lips pressed into her beanie.

She turns and presses the side of her face against his chest. “Joel?”

“Hmm?” He mumbles, lips still pressed into her beanie, holding still.

She lifts her face slightly against his chest as his lips struggle to follow her moving beanie. She turns her head a bit more, trying to see him.

“Why can’t a nose be 12 inches?”

Oh, a new one. Joel breathes in and lets a sigh escape his lips, preparing himself for the disaster. He lifts his face from her beanie, “why?”

She sits up straighter, trying not to jostle Callus too much as she tries to face Joel. “Because then it would be a foot,” she answers, trying to contain her giggles by pressing her lips together. She cranes her neck more to try and watch Joel’s reaction intently.

“Wow,” he responds, trying a little too hard to keep his stone cold expression. “That…was terrible.”

“Oh, come on! It was a good one! You’re laughing!”

Joel shakes his head to the side, avoiding the attempted gaze and strain of her neck to see him. “Am not,” he denies, repressing the smile in his voice.

She sighs, turning back around and dropping her posture back against him. “You’re a loser.”

“Oh, I’m the loser? Someone can’t handle a little tap to her feet.”

“You kick me.”

“Oh?” he questions, tapping her right foot gently, but with enough force to send it forward into the air for a second. “I wouldn’t consider that a kick.”

“You’re such an asshole,” she sighs.

He wraps his forearms back around her middle, nearly holding his elbows to hold her close as his layers allow him. He gives her a tight squeeze as his lips find her beanie again. “Mhmm,” he smiles into the cotton, planting a light kiss to it as she relaxes into him. He breathes in the scent of the beanie. It smells like their fire from the night before; the one he taught her how to make. It smells like pine from two nights ago when she mocked his snoring, he mocked hers (nonexistent, but he sure made a convincing argument), and she balled it up and threw it at him, Joel deflecting it into a pile of pine leaves and acorns. There’s a hint of…shampoo? From when they were in Jackson and they had the chance to clean themselves up with hot water and soap.

It smells like Jackson. It smells like Tommy and that blue house they were so graciously given and the stables with that foal ‘Shimmer’ that Ellie seemed to connect with so quickly. It smells like fresh wood and whiskey and home cooked casseroles and morning coffee. It smells like home.

Now, come dawn, we’re going our separate ways.

No, he definitely didn’t mean what he said.

~~~

Tags: @not-so-mundane-after-all (thank you so much for posting what you did) @sentientmasstransit @memelovescaps @tloubraininfection @tlouobsessed @fieldsoftulips @bejeweledmp3 @swol-bear @cassianendor @bluestar22x @elliiewiilliiams @longl0ngtime @dancealongthelightofday @protectorsjoel @joelxmiller @scootkiddo @astrasomnium @fallenstar07

I have just simply tagged you cute people that I always love seeing in my notifications. If you want to be taken off bc you don’t like me or hate fics, please tell me. Or, if you’re someone who’d like to be tagged for any future fics, feel free to ask me :)

[blorboindulgence]

having a blorbo is so funny. there's like more reasonable fun ideas to make aus for shuichi and then there's the Carrion au where shuichi is secretly worms. just take the monster worm colony that tore hundreds of people apart to escape a secret facility and give it an anxiety disorder, a guilt complex, and some friends.

(using kagehara and shuichi to differentiate between real shuichi vs worm imposter)(kagehara is still named saihara in universe)

Either in the killing game universe or non-killing game universe, kagehara would be killed by the worms and replaced by them with his in-game personality. No one really notices because kagehara has always been pretty reserved. his uncle may notice that something was different, but he couldn't figure out why.

Shuichi is very inexperienced at being a person but he slowly figures it out. He "joins" his class near the beginning of their second year at hopes peak. everyone else has their in-game personality but they didn't interact much with each other during the first year. kagehara had mostly wallflowered his way through, spending his social interaction points on online forums.

Now why would saihara want to keep stealing kagehara's life instead of wandering off, especially with his new found hatred/fear of humanity? Well, everything was new, pretty nice, and comfortable. He had food (no longer needed to eat humans as the only food source/out of "defense") that tasted good, a warm place to sleep, and he slowly forming bonds with his classmates.

accidentally teaching humanity to worms...

Kaede would literally be his first friend ever after the school started assigning group assignments for the class to bond with each other. Shuichi would have to hide how quickly he can learn things (the worms learned a language in like one conversation in the comics) but he can excuse his smarts from being the ultimate detective.

I'm thinking too much about this. giving this the overly long title of "would you still love me if i was a worm?" Someone would text him that meme and he would nearly have a heart attack about being found out.

oh god, I just realized that Gonta would go insane. moral dilemma if he finds out shuichi is worms. his friend killed hundreds of people to escape a lab but also he is a worm colony and now gonta is friends with a walking-talking worm colony. Gonta would be shuichi's biggest defender after the reveal because he knows that shuichi is nice now and that he was barely sentient when people hurt him (killed parts of his colony).

shuichi would get minor maki parallels, but shuichi killed people to save himself while maki killed people to save her orphanage. Maki had a sense of morality while shuichi did not at the time. so on and so forth.

Kokichi would be highly suspicious of shuichi, he could tell that he was no longer kagehara. he was shy and awkward but open to people interacting with him whereas kagehara kept to himself.

Shuichi has a huge phobia of fire. Miu probably illegally builds a flamethrower to do something cool for a project and shuichi quietly leaves to have an anxiety attack outside.

After he spends quite a bit of time becoming friends with his classmates, the guilt would start to eat him alive. The things that hurt him, that he killed, must have had their own lives that ended by his hand. He wasn't even the real kagehara, shuichi murdered him and stole his life. Kagehara was just a teenager like his friends.

And man, if shuichi was put in the killing game, he wouldn't even remember he was worms until a much later flashback light reminded him. imagine forgetting that you're a terrible monster that could easily kill your friends around you and while being a difficult colony to kill. alternatively he finds out later when someone tries to murder him and he escapes through a vent by seperating into worms and then reforming. And then he's like "what am I!?"

what if tsumugi just didn't know? "what the hell just happened, who put a horror monster in my horror game?"

"worms in my killing game? it's more likely that you think."

[queenshelby]

The Fourth Season (Part 12)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap (20 Years), Fluff, Angst, Sexual Tension

Words: 4,876

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE! PRETTY PLEASE...

The next week in summary…

Being your first week apart from each other since commencing filming of Season Four, it felt strange to be on your own, day in and day out. Even your bed felt empty now especially since, right before your departure, you had secretly shared most nights with Cillian in his apartment.

Of course, Emma and your family were with you now but this was not the same nor was it enough for you as, for some reason, you missed Cillian’s company terribly and it was almost like you had suddenly become dependent upon him.

You were usually quite happy to be on your own and did not need a man to look after you. Even with James, throughout the years, you did not feel like this. You never really missed him, but with Cillian it was different. You missed his jokes, your conversations, listening to his voice, his scent, his kisses and his touch.

His touch though was certainly the one thing you missed the most. You loved being intimate with him and you were certainly ready to take your relationship to the next level.

Your POV

Your first day in Cork was also the day of your grandmother’s funeral and, not surprisingly, you were saddened and felt miserable that day.

Cillian had contacted you a few times throughout the day, seeing how you were feeling and telling you, during his breaks, that he was thinking about you.

He told you that he wished that he could be there for you, comfort you and, when you texted him back, telling him that you missed him, he told you that he missed you too. According to him, nothing felt the same without you and he could not wait to see you again in Dublin in seven days’ time.

Your parents, unfortunately, quickly caught wind of the text messages going back and forwards between you and the fact that notifications came up on your phone as “Cillian Murphy” made your father rather angry.

“Why does this man keep texting you?” he asked around midday just after you had arrived at the dining hall of the congregation. The funeral took place that same morning and it was now time to mourn and eat, which you always thought was some kind of awkward combination. Food and tears, sadness and appetite, and you were not even hungry.

“What are you talking about?” you asked your father while your brother and Emma were listening in. Of course, only Emma knew about your secret relationship with Cillian, but your brother certainly became suspicious now that Cillian had been texting you all day.

“I have seen at least six text message pop up on your phone. They were all from him. You are on holidays and he knows that, right? He should not keep bothering you with work” your father then exclaimed furiously, almost causing Emma to break out in laughter. If your father knew what she knew, he would probably explode right there in front of you.

“He is just being nice dad. He knows about granny’s passing and is sending his condolences” you told him, not yet knowing that your father knew Cillian from school. The way he reacted though made you wonder why he cared so much about the contact you kept with a fellow cast member and whether he knew something more than he let on.

“Well, you should put your phone away now Y/N. Be respectful” your father then lectured you and you rolled your eyes but complied with his request nonetheless.

You sent one final message to Cillian, telling him that you would be in touch later that night and wishing him a pleasant and easy day on set.

“Will do. I will call you tonight. Love you x” was what he then sent back and, just as you opened this final text message from him, your brother looked over your shoulder. He was intrigued but not really surprised.

“Fuck, Cillian Murphy loves you, eh?” he said almost immediately before breaking out in a childish giggle.

“Oh my god, please! Stop spying on me” you told him with blushing red cheeks.

“Dad will kill you if he finds out that you are seeing him. He is like twice your age” your brother then said without thinking to mention the fact that your father had a connection to Cillian. He simply assumed that you knew and were thus simply being rebellious and cheeky. Perhaps it was the forbidden that turned you on or perhaps it was just bad luck.

“You won’t tell him though, will you?” you asked nervously nonetheless and your brother shook his head.

“God no. You don’t tell him my secrets, so why would I tell him yours?” your brother then said before making you follow him to the buffet which is where, much to your surprise, you saw four familiar faces.

James, his sister (who had tried to hit on Cillian when visiting the set) and their parents were there as well and, despite your dislike for James’ parents, they greeted you with open arms.

They offered their condolences and congratulated you on your role in Peaky Blinders. According to them, you were doing well and this, for some reason, they did not expect. They had always expected you to marry their son and have children soon, thereby giving into their demands but none of this was ever on your agenda. You were too young to have children and wanted to focus on something you loved.

“Of course she is doing well. She is fucking talented” Emma then blurted out, causing them both to furrow their eyebrows and your brother to laugh.

“I am sure she is. Anthony Barnes seems to be rather impressed by her performance” James’s father then said before asking you whether you knew that, for Season Four, his company was a major financial sponsor.

Between the BBC, Caryn Mandabach’s company and Netflix, the show did not receive enough funding following an increase in spendings during Season Three, hence the reason his company invested $3,000,000 towards the production, in turn of which James was given a role in Season Four and the family business was given the merchandising rights.

“I am aware” you said before having been advised that, the fact that you were casted, was pure luck which, of course, was a comment that bothered you.

“Luck you say?” you asked before your brother interrupted.  

“I think my sister was casted on merit. She auditioned and got the role fair and square” your brother argued before, finally, your father stepped in and ended this conversation.

“I think we can agree to disagree. This is a funeral and we should be respectful to one another, yes?” he said before asking James’s father how he was. Your father had always pandered to James’s parents and the way your brother spoke to them so truthfully did not sit well with him.

In the end though, the conversation came to a natural end following your father’s interruption and you felt as though you needed some fresh air after all this awkwardness inside.

“Would you excuse me please” you thus told the group who was now talking about religious believes and even Emma knew to give you some space rather than to safe herself from this nonsense.

James, on the other hand, did not and followed you outside.

***

“James, please, I just need a moment to myself” you said as soon as you saw him behind you but he pulled you aside and smiled.

“I just wanted to tell you that I am really sorry Y/N” he told you while handing you his handkerchief.

“Please, I don’t want to talk about us today. If this is…” you began to say while wiping away your tears.

“No. Shit. This is not about us” James interrupted you. “I am sorry about your grandmother’s passing. I know how close you were to her and, if you need anything, even if it is just a shoulder to cry on, I will be here for you” James then offered before giving you a very gentle and tentative hug, which was a gesture you appreciated and did not think anything about.

“Thank you James. That’s good to know” you told him before smiling through your tears.

“You are most welcome Y/N” he then told you before, all so suddenly, pulling you in for a kiss.

Your lips touched for a split second and it took you at least three times as long to comprehend what was happening.

“Oh my god James. What the fuck” you spat after quickly pushing him away and wiping off his saliva.

“I thought that…” James began to say ignorantly before you interrupted him.

“You thought that you could kiss me? Right fucking now while I am grieving?” you asked, shaking your head, before telling him how appalled you were by him using your vulnerability like this.

“I still love you Y/N” he told you in response while trying to reach for your hands and you chuckled.

“We are done. I told you that many times” you reminded him and this was when he asked you whether you were seeing someone else which, of course, was an answer you should have declined to answer. But, you could not. You just wanted him to back off and leave you alone.

“Yes James. I am seeing someone else” you thus told him sternly.

“Who is he?” he asked almost angrily but you simply chuckled again and shook your head in disbelieve.

“That is none of your business” you told him before, finally, storming off and walking back inside.

Cillian’s POV

On the same day, which was also Cillian’s second last day on set before his scheduled return to Dublin for a one-week break with his kids, Cillian too had to deal with some unwanted and unsolicited attention from his assistant Lorraine who, clearly, had taken a liking in him ever since starting her role.

Unlike some other women on set, she was becoming rather difficult for Cillian to deal with and it was at around 3 o’clock in the afternoon that she took her liking for him to the next level.

As so often, she walked in on him as he was getting changed in his trailer and startled him.

“Please knock” Cillian reminded her before pulling a t-shirt over his head and Lorraine nodded reluctantly.

“I am sorry Cillian. I forgot” she told him before handing him a cup of coffee, which she had just fetched from the cafeteria.

“Thanks” Cillian said politely as he took the cup from her hands and, just as he did, she smiled.

“You are welcome. I thought you might need a pick-me-up” she said before, somewhat seductively, biting her lower lip.

“Right, yes” he chuckled, although, to him, these kinds of advances were becoming rather annoying and bothersome. Cillian knew that he needed to address it, but did not feel the need to have an argument about it.

“Lorraine, can we talk for a minute please” he said nonetheless, knowing that it would be for the better while, unbeknownst to him, Lorraine expected the conversation to go somewhere else entirely.

With that , she nodded and stepped closer towards Cillian who, by this point, was somewhat confused.

“I have the feeling that you like me a little more than you should, and…” Cillian began to say while backing away from her until his back hit the corner of the kitchenette bench.

“I do and I hope that you like me too” Lorraine interrupted before, all so suddenly, using the same move James had used on you just hours earlier.

She leaned in and kissed him for a split second before Cillian pushed her away gently.

“Lorraine, I don’t feel that way about you and perhaps we need to consider getting you to work for someone else as this has become rather uncomfortable for me” Cillian then told her honestly which, in the end, caused her to leave the trailer shortly thereafter.

YOUR POV

It was later that day, when you were at home and were slightly tipsy following a little too much to drink at the wake. Cillian had just finished on set and you called him from your room after he had texted you, letting you know that he was available to talk. Emma was in the living room, giving you some privacy and your parents were busy preparing dinner.

“You won’t believe what happened today” was the first thing you mentioned to him before telling Cillian about the incident with James which, for some reason, distracted you from the fact that your grandmother had passed on. It was not a pleasant distraction but it was better than nothing and Cillian knew not to drill you with questions about the burial and the wake, which too was a fact you appreciated.

Thus, instead of talking about your grandmother’s passing, you spoke about James and, eventually, Cillian even told you about Lorraine.

“I actually had a very similar incident on set today” Cillian joked after you made fun of James and you knew that it must have been Lorraine who made an advance towards him.

It was an assumption you then voiced and which Cillian confirmed. It was a matter of time and, when Cillian informed you that she would be assigned to someone else after he got back from Dublin, you felt some relief.

“Oh god, I hope it isn’t me. I don’t want to work with her now that I know that she kissed you” you laughed, causing Cillian to chuckle before telling you that it would be funny if she was assigned to James instead as, in his mind, their attitudes were quite similar.

“Is she a good kisser at least?” you then teased Cillian after discussing the incident for a while, but he simply laughed it off.

“The kiss didn’t take long enough for me to find out but I doubt that she could compete with you babe” Cillian told you jokingly, following which you whispered something naughty in to the phone.

“Probably not. You said that I have an unusually skilled tongue and, surely, not everyone can have this kind of skill, right?” you teased just before you heard a knock on the door of your room.

“Dinner” your father informed you and, with that, you told Cillian that you had to go.

***

Over the next few days, you spent some more time with family and friends. You went to the movies twice, took some time going out with Emma and engaged in some retail therapy.

Shopping was not really your thing but Emma loved it and dragged you along.

You had shared a room with her for several days now and she knew that things were getting more serious between you and Cillian. You spoke to him every night and, every night, she needed to make an excuse to leave your room so that you would have some privacy.

“We have to get you some sexy lingerie before the weekend I think” she kept on reminding you and, in the end, you went to a large department store with her and bought exactly that.

Black lace lingerie was what you picked out and you were certain that Cillian would appreciate it. But, unfortunately for you, your parents did not.

As usual, your father was snooping around in your room when, on the day before you were due to leave Cork, he saw the lingerie hanging up over your armchair, which is where you had left it to dry.

“What is this? Is that yours?” your father asked as soon as you walked through the door but you quickly shook your head.

“No, it’s Emma’s. She left it here” you lied and, since you were good at your job, he bought it. Emma had already left two days ago and your father thought that you were catching up with her again soon.

“Why is it wet?” he wanted to know nonetheless and you laughed.

“Because I washed it for her. I assumed that it had been worn and I did not want to stuff her dirty underwear into my suitcase” you explained and your father responded with a quick “I see” before making an observation of his own.

“You know, this kind of underwear is terribly inappropriate and she should be ashamed for wearing it” he said and you had to supress a giggle.

“Uhm, dad, it’s just underwear” you argued but he did not see it this way.

“It sexualises women and sexualisation of a gender in today’s society is not good” he told you and, again, you chuckled quietly.

“Yeah, well, you can tell her that. But, trust me, I doubt that she will listen. Also, I doubt that she would show it off in public. Maybe it just makes her feel good about herself” you responded before your father asked you some questions about your impending stay in Dublin. You had told your parents that you were staying there for two nights to watch a theatre play with some friends and visit a brand-new art exhibition.

“So what time are you heading off tomorrow?” he wanted to know and you told him that your train was leaving Cork at noon.

“And who are you staying with again? I am just a little worried and, in case anything happens, I need to know who to contact” your father then explained, but you laughed it off.

“You worry too much” you told him before answering his question nonetheless. “I am staying with Emma at her cousin’s house” you said and he nodded with approval.

“Okay Sweetheart. Be good, alright?” he then told you and you chuckled once more. He always told you to be good and the fact that he spoke to you as if you were a child amused you.

“Yes dad. Now go to bed. You start work at 4 o’clock tomorrow” you lectured him in response, in turn of which he gave you a quick hug.

“Goodnight baby. Your mother will drive you to the train station at 11, but please text me when you get to Dublin safely, okay?” he asked before saying his goodbyes.

“Okay dad, goodnight” you said before pulling away from his embrace.

It was only 9 o’clock and, after your father had gone to bed, you decided to settle down on your bed with a novel in your hand until, eventually, you reached for your phone and texted Cillian.

***

Knowing that his children would have been in bed by now, you expected a response from him rather quickly and it was not really surprising to you when he tried to call you right away.

He hated texting but, when staying in a room right next to your parents, you much preferred it that way. You couldn’t talk freely to him without whispering quietly and, even when you where whispering, you worried that your father was listening in.

‘Can’t talk. Dad is in the room next to mine and the walls are thin’ you thus texted Cillian after declining his call and his response to your message was rather sweet.

‘That’s a shame, because I was looking forward to hearing your voice’ he said before texting you again, asking you what you were up to.

‘I am about to have a bath I think’ you told him before realising that this may spur him on and, when you did not hear from Cillian again for at least five minutes, you decided to make a point of it.

After all, you could not wait to see him again and the fact that he was looking forward to being with you after a week of being apart turned you on.

‘Do you want me to send you a picture of myself in the bathtub?’ you thus asked and, unsurprisingly, his response to this question was quick.

‘How could I possibly say no to an offer like this?’ he asked and you sent him an emoji in response, knowing very well that he hated to use them himself.

‘Okay, stay tuned…’ you then finally texted before running yourself a bath.

***

Running the bath took you about ten minutes and, after the tub was half full, you climbed in while placing your phone on the corner of it.

You took in and appreciated the warmth of the water for a while before picking up your phone again and texting Cillian.

‘I wish you could be here with me. I miss you’ you said before taking a quick selfie which showed your face and your wet breasts, but nothing else.

You then applied some wash to your skin and worked your hands up and down your body which is just when Cillian responded to your text.

‘You are beautiful. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow’ he simply said but you needed more from him so you rubbed the suds into your breasts and, by this point, your nipples had become visibly sensitive and erect. Your soapy hands roamed every inch as you gave yourself the most sensual of washes before taking yet another picture of yourself, this time of your breasts alone.

‘I am looking forward to you touching these tomorrow. Would you like that?’ you asked before running your hand down your inner thighs before finally arriving at your lips and rubbing your clit up and down.

‘Of course, I would like that. I want to touch you everywhere, but you already know that’ Cillian responded and, again, you took a picture, this time of your wet mound as, slowly, you stoked your clit with the other hand. Your finger was sliding up and down the slit of your lips as your pussy grew wetter and wetter while you saw Cillian, in the back of your mind, wondering what he was doing right now. Was he masturbating too? Does he ever? Probably yes...

‘Do you want to touch me here?’ you then texted, attaching the latest picture you took for your boyfriend and, just seconds after you hit sent, he sent you a message containing just one word.

‘Fuck’ it said before you received another. ‘You are not being fair right now’ he then told you and you knew that you had to ask.

‘Are you hard?’ you wanted to know as your excitement grew.

‘Yes. I am now. Thanks to you’ Cillian responded quickly and this was not yet enough.

‘Good, then masturbate, and send me a picture’ you told him and he was surprised by how eager you were. You never texted him things like this but he sure was not going to complain.

‘Really? You want me to send you a picture of myself while I masturbate?’ he ought to clarify nonetheless and, after you sent him an eager but firm ‘yes’, he complied with your request.

Within seconds Cillian sent you a picture of himself, laying on his bed, completely naked, holding his hard length in one of his hands while taking the photo with the other.

‘Fuck that’s hot Cillian. I am just thinking about you stroking your cock now’ you simply sent back as you imagined Cillian masturbating to those pictures you have sent and, with those thoughts running through your head and while imagining Cillian stroking his hard cock, you slid a finger into your pussy whilst still slowly working at your clit.

‘Make yourself cum babe’ Cillian texted back while you tried to do exactly that. You imagined him, stroking himself and cumming over his hand, moaning and groaning. Filthy thoughts were overwhelming your senses and then, after getting faster and faster, an orgasm finally rippled through your body and you let out a stifled moan. You knew that you rushed it, but you also knew that you had to as, usually, after about ten minutes, someone would want to use the bathroom. There was only one in the house and it had to be shared by four adults.

“Damn” you thus gasped and, after finishing up in the bath, you soon found yourself standing in front of the mirror, staring at your phone. You were desperate for more than your own fingers inside you but you were full of hesitation. Should you text him and tell him what you had accomplished? Should you text him and tell him what you wanted him to do now?

***

“I did cum, thinking about you doing the same. I am aching for you so badly. All I could think of was you, stroking your cock” you texted him in the end and, as soon as you hit sent, you were overcome with regret as, again, there was no response until, minutes later, you received another text.

‘I am aching for you too and I can’t wait to taste you again and make you cum myself, using my tongue’ was what it said and this turned you on all over again.

"And I can’t wait to put your cock into my mouth and swallow all your cum” you told him while taking yet another picture of your pussy for him, which was evidently rather wet.

“You are so wet babe. Tell me everything you have been thinking about. Surely, it wasn’t just a thought about me stroking my cock” Cillian responded and this gave you a real boost. You knew that you had peaked Cillian's interest.

“I have been thinking about you doing a lot of naughty things to me” you replied almost shyly though but Cillian did not let it go now.

“Be specific” Cillian demanded and you figured that you might as well tell him the truth of what you have been fantasising about for the past six days or so. Of course, imagining him masturbating was one thing but there were things that you wanted him to do to you. These were the things that had been on your mind ever since you left Liverpool and most of these things were things you have not done before.

“I have been thinking about what you would feel like inside of me” you then told him and it took Cillian a while to respond.

“Now this is a picture I cannot get out of my head” Cillian told you reluctantly and you decided to take this further.

“I can just imagine how much your cock would be stretching my pussy” you said and this was almost too much for Cillian. He was lost for words until, suddenly, he received yet another text message from you.

“I want to sleep with you when I come to stay with you tomorrow. I want to feel you, all the way, inside of me” you then said and Cillian was somewhat surprised by your request.

“If this is what you want then I am more than happy to oblige, but there is no rush babe” he reassured you while still being turned on by the sheer prospect of it.

“I know, but it is what I want” you texted back before making another request. “Now send me some more photos of yourself. I want to see how hard you are…” you demanded and, within a few minutes, you received three of them.

“Sexy” you told him before, finally, taking up the courage to give him some more orders. “Now stroke yourself while imagining your cock pushing into my pussy and, when you are done, send me a picture of when you came. I want to see your cum, covering your stomach and cock” you told him and, ten minutes later this is exactly what you received. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever seen and you knew that this picture alone would get you off all over again.

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