#okay I am not realizing they are blood bags which is even more adorable

[kmze]

Omg there’s a June wedding pin with a just married text on it? That’s soooo cute!! Also apparently there’s a “Caroline’s wedding cake flavor” and Candice herself choose the flavor of the cupcakes 🥹 even when Candice is not attending she is still contributing something to the con. She’s so awesome for that

Yes I took a screenshot isn’t it adorable! Candice would never let us down I knew it, she knew she owed it to Caroline to make sure the cupcakes were the appropriate flavor.

[argylemnwrites]

Sorry In Advance

I might have to find time to write over the upcoming days/weeks (when, I don’t know but that’s a problem for future me to solve) not to finally come back to my Choices WIPs that are just sitting, collecting dust in the corner, but because I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about Wayhaven Book 3 that I need to work through. They aren’t all good, they aren’t all bad, but I definitely feel some of each. (Some TWC Book 3 spoilers for N route below the cut)

The N route is the only one I’ve had a chance to explore even a bit, and it was definitely a mixed bag for me in ways that I was not expecting. Looking at things from an analytical perspective, I think at least 80% of my issues stem from pacing concerns, and I am trying to figure out how much of that stems from the overall sheer volume of content that was attempted with various branches from previous decisions coming into play and how much is just due to my N detective’s personality. I think most of it is the former - even big plot-centric moments felt hurried and frantic to me. The blood drive, the kidnappings, the auction all just zipped by without time to process, let moments develop, or allow for anticipation and dread. I sometimes felt like I blinked and missed massive events. The fallout out for major beats often felt incredibly glossed over. Nothing really had time to breathe.

That sensation definitely was felt in the N romance for me as well. (I use Nate, so from here on out, I will often be using he/him pronouns since that is the story line I experienced.) For a romance that before seemed like this wonderful blend of pure intensity and quiet gentleness, I honestly felt overwhelmed as Nate and my detective, Emma, bounced aggressively through major relationship moments. First, they fought, but the narrative never let them sit with that tension. It resolved quickly so that he could begin to trust her with his backstory (a scene that ended so jarringly, I wondered if I had failed a stat check - he drops the picture of his family, sends Emma on her way, and she just goes? In the middle of everything? She doesn’t stay to make sure he’s okay, even if he cannot share anymore of his past at that moment?). This set the tempo for everything else. Both potential intimate scenes just happen without much fanfare, which I probably would have adored if there had been more of a build up of romantic and/or sexual tension in the scenes leading up to those moments (although I will say, the start of the research picnic was wonderful and gentle and beautiful, and the pool table scene worked better from a pacing standpoint when I chose to have my detective cool things off at the picnic). I actually think that N and my detective impulsively giving in for their first time having sex could have been a lovely contrast from their usual selves and could convey a real intensity of emotion. But the build up and actual scenes themselves just flew by. Again, nothing had time to breathe.

This was most evident with the love declarations. My detective, with her near 80 stoicism stat, would not be able to vocalize that she loves Nate right after realizing it. So, I had her keep that realization to herself. But at the end, when Nate is in tears over his fears and worries about losing her and tells her it’s all because of how much he loves her, it was very awkward to not even have the option for my detective to at that point express that those feelings are mutual. From what I can tell, there is no way to get mutual love declarations between N and the detective. When I tried out having my detective blurt out her feelings at the picnic, Nate said nothing in response. No matter who states their love first, N or detective, the feelings just hang there without verbal reciprocation, or even the option for that reciprocation if N goes first. Hell, my detective didn’t even take a shot during Never Have I Ever for falling for a colleague regardless of whether or not she verbalized her feelings.

I realized this has quickly turned into a long-winded rant, which was not my goal. Like I said, I have a lot of swirling, mixed feelings about Book 3 as a whole, and there was plenty I adored. N’s pet name reveal scene was glorious, particularly if the detective has not yet been intimate with them. The ongoing tension about N wanting to protect the detective (from both outside threats and themselves in certain respects) and worrying about the detective’s coping (shout out for Tina’s protective talk with a clear bonus blurb because my detective is so wildly stoic) feels organic for this romance. The blood stuff, both at the Tina dinner and from N’s POV towards the end hinted at future tension in a very natural and captivating way. M is my detective’s BFF, and there was a lot to love about that dynamic, as well as the friendship still growing with A and F, all leading to some very beautiful found family moments. Even with very minimal exploration, I can tell that the auction climax can play out in a ton of different ways, and knowing my M, F, and A detectives, I’m guessing I will end up settling on four different outcomes that feel “right” for each route. That is nothing to scoff at. And while the Rebecca stuff still feels like it wants to push you to forgive her, the narrative acknowledged that my detective’s relationship with her is slowly but surely deteriorating under the weight of Rebecca’s continued secrets and those two women having very different opinions of the Agency. It is always nice in IF when more complex relationship dynamics are acknowledged. I just wish I had more time to really sit with some of these moments before the narrative was barrelling full steam ahead.

Some of my pacing issues do likely arise from my detective’s stoicism. But even ignoring that element, I do wish there was more time in the narrative for aftermath of many major moments. Whether or not Elidor had to “save” my detective from donating blood, there isn’t really any acknowledgement from the team. The kidnappings would have been even more impactful if they weren’t just mentioned in passing so much of the time. And I desperately needed more post-auction content - from Rebecca, from the rest of Unit Bravo, and of course from N.

I don’t know, that was a wild ramble with no clear point. It was so long-winded, and I didn’t even get around to talking about how I’m sad our detective is no longer a detective. Hopefully, I will have some time to write soon, because writing fic helps me sort through conflicted feelings about media I adore (and I do still fully adore one N Sewell)

[thedaredevilsgirl]

Bad Nights Good Decisions

Warning: Mention of violence, alcohol and blood, Age difference (reader is older than 22).

Word count:1081

A/N: I was in the mood to write something fluff for Frank and this came up. Would you like a part two?

It was quick, he didn't even think when his fist met the guy's face squarely breaking the nose of the idiot who clearly had no manners if he was trying to harass a woman in that bar. "Stay out of trouble" Frank repeated to himself before leaving the house, but what could he say, there was that insatiable thirst for revenge inside him, it wasn't like he could help it.

"If I know you've upset someone else I will blow your head off without hesitation" he says throwing the man's body on the cold and dirty floor of the bar "Let that be a warning" he turns away from the commotion he had created and goes to the nearest men's room.

Frank finds it strange when he sees a girl in there, curled up on the floor while crying, he looks at the sign outside checking if he really was in the right bathroom.

The unknown girl was so entertained in her own tears that she doesn't even notice Frank washing the blood from her hands in the sink.

"You know this is the right men's room?" he asks as he pulls out some paper towels to wipe his hands.

"What?" you say finally lifting your face to look at him "Really?"

Even with the makeup smeared and running down your face Frank still thought you were so beautiful and adorable.

"Yes, I'm sure this is the men's room."

"I guess I didn't pay much attention before I went in, it's like the night just gets worse" you cover your face with your hands going back to crying.

Frank tries to get out of the bathroom, to stay out of more trouble, whatever was going on with you it was none of your business, but he couldn't.

"Are you okay?" He asks turning around and kneeling down in front of you.

"Yes," you say in a voice broken by tears.

"I don't know if I believe you" he sits down next to you.

"I was supposed to be at a date my best friend organized tonight and it's just terrible, first this place is horrible for having a date" Frank laughs at your comment, really that bar didn't seem to be suitable for a date "Second the guy is a complete jerk, it seemed like he was debauching every word out of my mouth and third I went out to get more drinks and when I came back to the table my best friend and my date were kissing, that just horrible."

"I'm sorry about that" Frank doesn't even realize that his hand, which a few minutes ago was punching a man, was now lightly stroking your back perhaps as a way of consoling you "But honestly, from the little you've told me they're not worth it."

"The worst part is that now I'm sitting on this dirty floor, crying and letting a stranger comfort me" you laugh a little at the situation you've gotten yourself into "And I don't even have a way to get home now, no money and I sure as hell am not going to hitchhike to one of them."

Don't do that, you don't even know the girl, Frank's mind was screaming, but what would be the problem with helping you? It would just be a kind act, it's not like he was going to fall in love with you, he wasn't even ready for that yet.

"I can give you a ride if you wish" he finally offers as he gets up off the ground.

"I just met you, I don't even know your name, you could be drunk or trying to kill me right now."

"I am Frank Castle" he doesn't even know why he had said his real name "I just had one beer and I am not trying to kill you."

"That's exactly what a handsome killer would say" he tried to ignore the handsome part.

"That's a great argument, but I swear I'm not going to kill you, just make sure you get home safely, you don't look well" he says offering his hand to help you up.

"Ok, I am Y/N" you introduce yourself as soon as you get up from the floor "But I have pepper spray and a taser inside my bag and I am not afraid to use them" Frank laughs "That is a threat."

"I know, and I believe you".

━─┈✩☽🌑☾✩┈─━

Finally at Frank's car just after you practically ran out of the bar so that you wouldn't be seen by your friend, you finally manage to take a deep breath.

"Thank you so much for getting me out of there Mr. Castle" you thank him after saying your address.

"Sir? I'm not that old."

"I don't know your age, so..."

"I'm 35" to be honest with yourself he looked younger "and you?"

"22" shit, Frank was attracted to a 22 year old girl "Anyway Frank, thanks for getting me out of there, if it wasn't for you I would probably still be crying in that bathroom."

"You're welcome, some people say I give off a vigilante vibe" he says as an attempt at humor.

"At least this has taught me something" you say seriously "I'm going to die alone, I'm no good at this dating thing, it's not the first time something like this has happened."

"Don't say that, it was just a bad date, I've been there."

"Married?"

"I used to be" Frank says with a sad smile.

"Divorced?"

"Widowed."

"Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm an idiot, I shouldn't have asked that."

"It's okay, but you should listen to me, one bad date doesn't mean your whole romantic life doesn't exist anymore, you'll find someone" Frank wondered when he suddenly became a love counselor, Billy would probably laugh at that whole story.

"Thank you" she says as soon as he stops in front of your building "For the ride, for the advice, for everything...Frank".

Frank watches you get out of the car and close the door behind you, he wanted to see you again, he would probably regret what he was about to do but why not try.

"Y/N" he says as soon as he opens the car window and you walk back over to it "I know this is going to sound so weird because we just met and you literally had a terrible date, but it would be great if you would agree to go out with me" Frank was no longer in control of his mind at that moment.

"I..." You smile shyly "I'd love to, I'm free this weekend if you want" he agrees before handing you his cell phone to put your number in it "I'll see you Saturday".

"I can't wait.

Maybe Frank has made a good decision tonight.

[spellsword177]

Thoughts on Fence: Rise (Volume Five)

Warning!  The following will contain spoilers for Fence:  Rise (Volume Five).  Please proceed at your own risk.  Volume Five is in the bag, and, as usual, I cannot wait to see The Halverton Training Camp story arc concludes in the next issue.  Naturally, I had some thoughts in order from least important to most important.

It was great seeing Kally and Tanner again if only for a moment.

So far, I like MacRob the best out of the competing schools, Halverton is okay, but I cannot stand the snobs from Lowther who seem to think their all that and a bag of chips despite placing fourth.  I’m very interested to see more of Terrell Holmes, Nate Spencer, Gian Torres, and Marcus Washington who all seem very cool and interesting new additions.  I’m also curious to  see more of Hector Ramirez and Stefano “Van” Remo as we didn’t see much from either of them.

I adored Dante letting Bobby put pom hair ties in his hair.  If that isn’t love, I’ll eat your hat.  Unofficial boyfriend anyone?  It was also great Bobby getting the role of Team Manager; I’m happy for that little ray of sunshine.

The only reason Aiden isn’t better at fencing has to do with his personal lack of interest and Harvard’s ranking.  If Harvard improves his low lines, Aiden would likely move up alongside of him.

I suspect Seiji will at minimum either lose a point or even a practice match in the next volume.  The question is will it be Scott Langtree (who will be disappointed not to gain a new teammate), Marcus Washington (who shows the greatest talen), or Saunchul Park (who is clearly out for blood) that lands the blow.  Seiji is very disciplined and fast, but he is also arrogant and a bit predictable which is likely a major contributor to how Jesse beat him.  He may want to be a bit more dynamic in how he approaches his future matches.  As for Jesse and Seiji, I’m not surprised they were more at one time than simply friends as it was heavily hinted at in France.  I don’t for a moment believe Seiji ever saw Jesse in that way nor do I think what they had together was in any way healthy.  The real villain is Robert Coste.

I’m not surprised, but I am disappointed that once again Nicholas is at the bottom of the fencing order.  In all fairness, he is being forced to improve his two weakest areas of technique and defense through these drills.  I’m pleased he’s shown improvement, and I look forward to him proving once again to be a fast learner.  All he needs is Jesse’s skill to be monster at fencing possibly even the greatest.  I suspect the series will end with some combination Nicholas, Seiji, and Jesse on the piste at the state finals.

Previously, I have posted about which person will be the first to realize how Nicholas is related to Jesse.  Once again, we have movement in which Bobby Rodriguez noticed similarities in Jesse’s and Nicholas’s respective styles.  I suspect Coach Williams may already know, but if she does, she isn’t making it obvious in any way.

Finally, we have the return of Kyle Allen who conveniently didn’t mention how he was Jesse’s cousin, though I suspect his mother is Robert Coste’s sister making him also related to Nicholas.  I can say he is clearly overplaying how close he is to Jesse as he had no idea who Nicholas was, or the fact Jesse is eyeing him as threat for Seiji’s attention and a potential threat on the piste.  Likewise, he isn't attending Exton with Jesse Coste even though they are "so close." Out of everyone, he would be the last person to recognize and except Nicholas Cox as Jesse Coste’s long lost half-brother.  I would love for the rematch where Nicholas wipes the floor with him, but I’ll settle for his shock over Nicholas finally beating Emmet Scott by the end of the training camp.

The next chapter cannot come soon enough.  Maybe Nate Spencer’s statement of “It’s the Kind of Place that changes everything” may prove to be prophetic foreshadowing.  I will look forward to whatever may transpire. Go King's Row!

[pupandangelscoffee]

Three makes a family

Eddie Diaz x Evan "Buck" Buckley x Female reader

Genre: mostly fluff, slight angst in the middle

TW: mentions of alcohol, arguing

Word count: slightly over 3K

Taglist: @enterprise-medical

Buck really loved Carla and he knew that Eddie did too, especially since Chris always seemed to happy around her. That is why he did not understand why Eddie chose to hire a babysitter for Chris, clearly Carla could do the babysitting. Eddie tried explaining that he wanted Carla to be able to have some days off, too. After all, it can be exhausting to babysit a very energetic kid all day.

Even if Buck does not understand Eddie’s motivations, he is now sitting in the older male’s living room and waiting for the doorbell to ring, already painting a picture of the babysitter in his head. She probably looks like an evil witch with gray hair and lots of wrinkles on her face, making her seem friendly despite her secretly scaring children by telling them she would eat them. Though as soon as the doorbell rings, Chris starts racing his dad to the door, leaving a very confused Buck behind. “Why did his little buddy seem so excited to see the new babysitter? Why was his little buddy more excited to see his babysitter than he was when Buck came over earlier?? This just feels unfair!” Buck concludes in his head, getting up and walking to the kitchen to grab himself a drink. From his place he can hear the excited yells from Chris, a small smile immediately creeping on his face though dropping almost instantly when he remembers that he wasn’t the one making Chris that happy.

After taking another deep breath, he makes his way over to the living room very steadily, ready to assess you. However, as soon as he lays eyes on you, he chokes up and trips over his own feet, crashing into the small table on the side and dropping his glass. Startled by the sound, Chris, Eddie and you turn around to face him, you immediately jumping up and helping the young firefighter with the broken glass. “You didn’t tell me that I have to babysit two kids, Eds” you state, earning laughter from Chris and Eddie and an embarrassed look from Buck. “You must be Buck, right? Chris has told me a lot about you” you tell the embarrassed man, who is still in shock from seeing your beauty up close. Chuckling softly, you grab the shards of broken glass from his hands before heading to the kitchen to get a towel and throw the shards away.

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks Buck softly while you are out of the room, however, he does not get a response as Buck simply continues staring at the spot you were sitting a moment ago. Chris slowly gets up and hugs Buck, thinking that the firefighter got hurt when he tripped, though Eddie quickly understood what was going on and shakes his head. Seems like Buck 1.0 still existed somewhere in his younger friend, despite everyone telling him that Buck was no longer like that. Perhaps he should talk to Maddie about this, needing someone’s opinion, that actually knew Buck as well as he did. Though before he has the chance to excuse himself, you are back in the living room and making your way over to Chris. “Ready for a fun day, Chris?” you ask him with a smile playing on your lips to which Chris eagerly nods and allows you to pick him up. “I will bring him home at 8 tonight, alright Eds?” you state, turning to look at the older male. “Yeah, 8 sounds perfect. I will see you tonight.” He replies, smiling at you and walking over to press a kiss goodbye onto Chris’s forehead.

As soon as you and Chris are gone, he gets another cup of water and pours it over Buck’s head, successfully pulling him out of his trance. “Do not even think about sleeping with Y/N, Evan.” He states lowly, giving the younger firefighter a glare while Buck just looks up at him sheepishly. “In my defense, you forgot to mention that the new babysitter was smoking hot. A warning would have been nice.” He grumbles as he shakes his head, sending water droplets flying everywhere before getting up and dropping on to the couch with a small groan. The response left Eddie frowning, sure, he was aware that you were attractive and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t attracted to you, especially after seeing how much Chris adores you. However, that did not lessen the blow of Buck’s blunt response. Perhaps that was why he was fearing that Buck 1.0 was back, he didn’t want you to be scared off purely because his best friend was incapable of keeping his dick in his pants. “Just try not to fuck her immediately when you get her alone, please. Chris really likes her.” Eddie nearly begs, deciding it was better that he doesn’t add that he likes you too. Buck sighs and nods, pouting a bit. Though for his little buddy, he would definitely try not to get into her pants. After all, he didn’t want Chris to hate him, especially if it was because he couldn’t control himself around you. However, this wasn’t going to stop him from teasing Eddie by flirting with you, because despite the older man trying to hide it, he could tell that Eddie had a thing for you as well.

8 comes quicker than the two males expect and they are slightly startled from their cuddled position when they hear the door opening. Glancing out into the hallway, they spot you carrying a sleeping Chris into his room, unknowingly causing both of the males to smile. Soon enough, you walk into the living room and whisper “he is asleep now and probably won’t be waking up any time soon. We had a lot of fun” before grabbing your bag that you placed on the table in the hallway on your way in. It was clear that you were about to leave, so Buck jumps up and grabs your hand, putting on his best kicked puppy expression. “Why don’t you stay for a bit longer? We have some wine in the fridge and I will drop you off at your place later, I wouldn’t feel right letting a pretty lady like yourself be outside all by yourself.” He states softly, pouting a bit in hopes that it would convince you to stay. You glance between him and his friend, who was eagerly nodding, before sighing and setting down your bag. “Fine, I’ll stay for a bit. But only if you have anything to eat that isn’t almost pure sugar.” You agree, your request causing the older male to jump into motion and quickly rushing into the kitchen to put a pizza in the oven for you. Meanwhile, Buck leads you back to the couch, not letting go of your hand until you pull it away.

Somehow you end up being squished between the two men, a glass of wine in your hand and the pizza on the table. After some small arguing, they decided to just let you choose the movie, so now they had to suffer through one of your favorite horror movies. While you sit there not even flinching, Buck is absolutely terrified and unsure whether he should feel impressed by the fact that you do not mind horror movies or scared that you clearly do not cringe at the big amounts of blood spattering all over the screen. On the other side, Eddie has managed to wrap his arm around your shoulder, with the excuse that he feels safer if he knows that you and Buck are safe and within his reach. He is definitely impressed by your ability to keep a straight face at the movie, though definitely not as surprised as Buck, especially because he knew about your background.

Soon enough the first movie is finished, then a second one, then a third and the next thing you know, you wake up to the smell of bacon in a bed that was most certainly not yours. Looking down at yourself, you realize that the shirt you are wearing is also not yours, leaving you confused for a moment because you do not recall getting changed the previous night. Sighing, you quickly come to the conclusion that one of the two men must have changed you. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you make your way into the kitchen, where you are greeted by the sight of a small family breakfast with Buck, Eddie and Chris. Deep inside your heart, you wish to wake up to that small family every morning, though that wish quickly gets locked up and hidden from the world as you make your way to the coffee machine to get a cup. Chris is the first of the three to react to your presence, calling out your nickname before grinning brightly at you. “Good morning, little one. Did you help make breakfast?” You ask, sitting down on the counter to smile at the nodding boy. “Yeah!! Daddy gave me instructions!” He explains with an excited tone before glancing at the clock and frowning. “Can you convince dad to let me stay at home today?” He asks you with a hushed tone, causing you to giggle and shake your head, whispering back “sorry, but I am sure that the captain would not enjoy you missing your big day in school. Or how else is your group supposed to present the fantastic poem you wrote?”. Chris tilts his head before thinking for a moment. “Fair after school?” he tries to negotiate, causing you to giggle again before nodding. “Sure thing, buddy. Now go brush your teeth and I will drive you to school, okay?” “Okay, mommy!” Chris replies before rushing off to brush his teeth, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind as his words sink into all of you.

Eddie and Buck are watching your interaction with Chris, the sound of your giggles making the smile without realizing it. Surely, you must have noticed that they changed you into something more comfortable last night after you had fallen asleep on Eddie’s chest. However, it just felt natural to the two males to take care of you and make you breakfast, Chris being a bit help. Though when Chris calls you mommy, they freeze and Buck even chokes on his piece of the pancake. They certainly did not expect that Chris was that fond of you, though Eddie is slightly less surprised than Buck, thinking about the countless times that Chris had asked for you to come over. Still, the sudden name caused his movement to halt as well, his brain going haywire, trying to figure out if Chris had somehow found out about his attraction for you and that is why he felt so comfortable with calling you mommy. Or perhaps it was simply because the men had decided to pull one of Eddie’s shirt on you yesterday and that is what made it seem like you two were dating. Or was it the couple of times he had invited you out with Chris and him for dinner? His train of thought is quickly broken though, when Chris appears in the kitchen and says goodbye to the two men, calling Buck dad and Eddie daddy before rushing off to your car. Once again you three are left alone in the kitchen, the silence deafening. “Drive safely, okay?” Buck manages to mutter out, making you nod. Glancing between the two men, you decide to peck their cheeks before rushing out after Chris, grabbing your bag in the process to drive him to the school.

When you return to Eddie’s house, you can already hear the yelling from the outside. Slowly making your way into the house, you can finally understand what the two were arguing about. You. From what you gathered, Eddie was upset with Buck for flirting with you while Buck was countering that obviously Eddie was too chicken to do something about his feelings for you. Avoiding nearly being hit by a vase that comes flying your way, you clear your throat causing the fight to die down and both men to turn to you. “I- uh…” Eddie starts, though you raise your hand to silence him before grabbing the stuff you had left on the couch. “Once you two grow up and handle this like actual adults, then you can call me.” You state before walking out of the house and slamming the door shut behind you, leaving the two men dumbfounded and broken.

Two months. It takes two months of Chris sulking, Bobby scolding them and roughly 5 meetings with Maddie before they can finally face each other again. Yet whenever they stare at your number, they chicken out, too afraid to call you. You had been right, they were acting like two children throwing tantrums, build on the unspoken feelings between them. But now that they were dating steadily and currently curled up together on the couch, they finally decide to call you up. However, much to their distaste, a man answers your phone and for a moment they believe they lost any chance with you, if there even was one to begin with. “Hello? Are you still there?” The man on the phone asks, causing Eddie to nod and reply with a small “yeah”. A hum is heard from the other side of the line before they hear “what do you want from my sister?”. Never in their life did the duo think that hearing such a question would be such a relief. Buck reacts quicker than Eddie and explains the situation, what has happened and why they were calling now. Another hum is audible before some commotion can be heard and then they hear your voice, a sense of happiness washing over them. For whatever reason, you actually agree to meet with them after your work, giving them the address of your workplace.

Your shift ends in 10 minutes when Buck and Eddie walk into the club where you were working, quickly spotting you behind the bar, deciding that your outfit was definitely too short for their liking. Holding on to Eddie’s hand tightly, Buck weasels his way through the crowd and stops right before you at the bar, smiling softly as you smile back. Though he can’t help but look you over once more, the small shirt definitely compliments your chest yet does not leave a lot to the imagination and your shorts are barely allowed to be titled shorts by how short they are. Eddie notices what the younger firefighter is doing and quickly elbows his ribs, earning a grunt and a displeased look from the other before smiling at you. “Three of your favorites, nena.” Eddie yells over the music to you and watches as you get to work, mixing three shot glasses filled with some purpelish looking liquor before sliding them over to him. “What would you like, Evan?” You ask softly before adding “a blowjob?” with a smirk, causing the young male to choke on his own spit, believing he did not hear you correctly. “I am talking about the drink, dumbass.” You explain with a small laugh, preparing one before setting it down before Buck, who still looks like a puppy which just got caught destroying your favorite pair of shoes. “T-Thanks,” he finally mutters out, grabbing the drink and mentally kicking himself for sounding like a schoolgirl that was talking to her first crush. You three fall into an easy conversation, barely paying attention to the time, not noticing that your shift was over until your coworker walks up behind you and tells you to start leaving. You nod and lead the two firefighters to the back room that usually only employees are allowed to enter before grabbing a shirt from your bag and pulling it on before looking at the two men. “Before you ask, yes, it is your shirt, Eds. It is just very comfy.” You state, grabbing the rest of your belongings before smiling at the boys and leading them out of the back door.

A warm ball of cuddles and limbs, that is how you would describe the three of you on Eddie’s bed right now. After you left your workplace, the boys started bombarding you with questions and you answered them all honestly, about how you chose this job in hopes that you would forget the two men that made your days so much brighter, about how you missed Chris and a bunch of other things that they wanted to know. On the way back to Eddie’s place, they stopped at some restaurant that was still open and grabbed the food. Once you were all at his place, you ate and then proceeded to talk about the three of you, about the feelings the duo had for each other and for you and how they wished for you to be a part of the small family they had created. First you jokingly denied them, teasing them that you did not have any feelings for them, but after seeing the hurt flash on their faces, you quickly explained how you returned their feelings and that you missed them a lot within the past two months, even if Carla had kept you up to date with their wellbeing. So now you were all cuddling and just enjoying the presence, because even if tomorrow was not given, if tomorrow everything could fall apart, right now you three were a happy family and you would not change that for anything in this world.

Chris’s reaction the next morning when he walks into the kitchen and sees you sitting on the counter, sipping your coffee while Buck is standing between your legs is priceless. You did not know that the kid could even hit such a high note, but he manages to do so when he screams your name and scrambles over to you, pouting at Buck standing in his way. That was most definitely not what he had in his mind when his dad told him that there was a surprise waiting for him in the kitchen. Though you quickly push Buck to the side, earning a whine from the male about how mean you are, before jumping off the counter and hugging Chris tightly, excited to spend the rest of your mornings with those three.

[weasel-b33]

I've just seen your James Potter story and its so good! I;m not sure if you're taking requests but if you are maybe a post Azkaban Sirius x younger reader (reader is like tonk's age)?

OMFG BABES IM SO SORRY I JUST SAW THIS AHHH

i don't think this is very good, but i hope i did your request some justice.

THANKS SO MUCH LOVE FOR THE SUPPORT AHHH

Green With Envy 

Warnings: age gap (reader is same age as tonks/charlie weasley), fluff, kissing, cursing (i think?), angst? if you squint? its really just jealous siri

Opening the door to the London home, 12 Grimmauld Place, you are met with an instant scene of chaos.

Fred and George, whom you have grown to love over the many years of knowing their older brothers, chase around a fifteen year old Ronald with an enlarged spider plush. The laughter from their younger sister, Ginny, can only be described as maniacal as she watches the scene unfold from the rickety staircase.

Shouting from, what you have had the displeasure of hearing, Mrs. Walburga Black's portrait rings throughout the dusty home. Well, until you hear the sound of a man's voice you have became quite close with.

"MOTHER! WOULD YOU STOP YOUR YELLING!" Sirius Orion Black, in all of his glory, yells walking out into the foyer of his despised childhood home.

Upon entering he is met with your smiling, well more like grimacing face, holding your bags you have packed on his request.

"Y/N? When did you get here?" he questions taking your bags from you. "Kreacher!" A small and wrinkly house elf appears from the air, "Take Lady Y/N's bags to my room. She's going to be staying here for a while." Sirius says quickly, while turning to you with a wink, the elf begrudgingly takes the bags, cursing under his breath, only something you can assume is about the excess "blood traitors" and "mudbloods" inside his mistress' forsaken lair.

"Siri. I've missed you, darling" you instantly are met with his embrace and a quick peck on the lips from the man.

"Love, if I knew you were coming today, I would have done some cleaning," Sirius says guiding you towards the kitchen.

"No you wouldn't have." you retort back quickly, inside the kitchen you are met with the smiling faces of the Weasley's and your boyfriend's long term friend, Remus Lupin. Quick greetings are exchanged before the Weasley matriarch is rushing you to sit and eat, all the while claiming you look as though you haven't eaten a proper meal in ages.

But, before you can begin to devour the delicious food Molly has served for you, a handsome face you have had the pleasure of knowing enters the room.

Charlie Weasley. Long-time best friend and school mate, enters the run down home with bags and a charming smile gracing his face.

Instantly jumping up, you run to embrace your dragon loving friend. For it has been nearly two years since you last seen the man. Living in Romania, and you still in London, studying to become an Auror, you both find little time to visit each other. The many letters exchanged between the pair of you, are clear proof to your friendship's strength.

However, something rivaling that strength, is the grip the eldest Black brother has on his cutlery. If it wasn't for Remus placing a calming hand on his bicep, it would not be a surprise if Sirius broke the silver in two.

"I didn't know you were coming. Godric, Charlie! It has been ages!" you exclaim excitedly moving out of the way for the brother to be embraced by his many other family members.

Grabbing his hand you lead to red head to the seat next to yours, which happens to be directly in front of your steaming partner.

"It was last minute. But, when the Order calls, you have to answer" laughter is heard throughout the room, and the jovial sound continues to fill the space throughout the dinner.

Yet, Sirius Black seems to not find this situation amusing. Anytime Charlie makes you laugh, grabs your hand, or rests his freckled arm around the back of your chair, his grip on the wooden table seems to strengthen. Nearly stark white hands are something the jealous induced man has become accustomed to.

He's the one who should make you laugh. He's the one who should grab your hand. He's the one who should rest an arm around the back of your chair. He is. Not some dragon loving ginger, who has waltzed into his home. You are his.

Finishing up the dishes, you bump hips with your friend. The night had been filled with laughter and memories the boy has brough up from the past. But, something seemed off throughout the night. You just couldn't seem to place it. Shaking off this feeling, you bid Charlie goodnight and make your separate descents up to your separate bedrooms.

After a few missteps, and opening of the wrong doors, you find the one with a sleeping Sirius Black. Or what you thought was a sleeping Sirus Black.

Quietly, tiptoeing your way through the room you change quickly into comfier clothes and finish getting ready for bed in the on suite bathroom. It's not until you slowly climb your way into the shared bed does to man make any indications of being awake.

"Nice of you to finally realize I existed," he says bitterly.

Making yourself comfortable under the thick duvet, you send a confused glance toward the brooding brunette.

"What?"

"This is the first time tonight you have even talked to me."

"What are you on about, Siri?" You turn your body to face the man and lay side by side.

"It is obvious I do not interest you enough. Its clear young and hip Charlie Weasley , is all you can care about."

"Baby, I have no idea what you are talking about. This is just the first time I've seen him in over two years."

"S'whatever." He huffs dramatically, rolling over so his back is know facing you.

"Nu-uh. Do not pull that shit with me Sirius Black, what is your deal?"

Turning back around, he looks towards the ceiling, and quietly sighs. "I get it, okay? I am older, you are young. You have so much more life to live and I have wasted half of mine in a cell. You deserve someone like him. He will make you happy-"

Quickly cutting off his dejected rambling with a short kiss, you sigh, "Sirius Black. I love you. Only you. Okay? I don't care that you are "old" I love you for who you are. How you make me feel, okay? Charlie is just a friend and that's all he ever will be. Y'know why? Because I have you by my side."

"God, my love, I adore you so much."

Opening up his arms you quickly scoot your way over and snuggle deeper into his embrace. Listening to his steady heartbeat and breathing, it takes only a matter of minutes to enter a deep sleep.

Wrapped in the arms of the older man, you had never felt safer and more loved.

And he felt the same.

fin

[corysmiles]

Does Wilbur ever start giving Tommy puzzles to do? I've seen videos of marine biologists putting tiny octopus in jars and watching them unscrew them from the inside.

After a while he realizes just how smart Tommy is and starts bringing him more 'puzzles' to escape, but he's actually teaching him to escape live traps other scientists are trying to use.

-Zeetle

A New Puzzle

————————

Octotommy au

Notes: hey first writing for the new AU!! I love the idea of Wilbur getting puzzles for Tommy and the mer getting so excited every time he solves one. (And I also love the angstier idea of Wilbur teaching Tommy to escape traps) Thank you so much for the ask zeetle my beloved :] 💙

————————

“Tommy come out, Ive got a new puzzle for you.”

Wilbur waited impatiently, the plastic fins on his feet getting pulled back and forth by the icy current as he floated- a reminder that he couldn’t stay long. Meanwhile, his eyes stared intently at the giant rock formation poking up from the sand below- The same rock formation he’d visited every day for months since finding Tommy.

It was a couple months ago that he had found the tiny octopus mer. He’d been setting out traps for crabs, and when he came back that same day one trap was missing. He’d searched around the reef for almost an hour before he spotted the shiny metal bars peeking out of a pile of worn rocks. He’d reached his hand in without second though, but what he grabbed onto wasn’t the hard metal he was anticipating, instead it was soft and squishy.

It was the first time he’d ever met Tommy, and although the octopus mer was nervous he seemed to love being in Wilbur’s hands. Day by day Wilbur came back to take notes on the fascinating creature. He’d never seen anything like Tommy, and although he loved learning more about him he couldn’t he’ll but become fond of his heart laughs and wild personality.

Only a month in the visits started to feel more like visiting a friend then doing research.

“Come on Tom,” Wilbur called out again impatiently, “It’s just me.”

The water was freezing already even though it was only early August, and even with a full wetsuit he felt his skin crawling with goose bumps.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait much longer before a flash of red peaked out from a behind a nearby rock.

Wilbur watched with amusement as small tentacles flicked towards him. They curled around the water a bit, and Wilbur couldn’t help the warm feeling in his chest when he realizes the tentacles were searching for his hand.

Slowly he nudged his fingers forward and as soon as one of the tentacles brushed against it they all wrapped around his hand like a glove.

The small mer’s face beamed with joy as he smiled up at the researcher, “New puzzle?”

“Yep, a couple of them actually” Wilbur chuckled, “Took you long enough.”

Tommy huffed and tightened his tentacles around Wilbur’s arms, “I was sleeping dickhead. You came so early today.”

“Its noon,” Wilbur cocked his eyebrow in amusement.

The mer’s tentacles flashed bright red for a moment before settling back to their natural maroon state.

“You stupid humans and your stupid time,” Tommy grumbled, “I was still sleeping, so it was early.”

Wilbur laughed and brushed the tips of his fingers over Tommy’s head in the way he knew the mer adored. Immediately, the tentacles around his wrist turned pale pink as the mer’s head pushed its way into his hand.

“You’re so clingy,” Wilbur smirked earning another groan from the tiny octopus, “Now come on, let go. Gotta do the puzzles before I freeze to death.”

Reluctantly, Tommy wriggled against his hand before forcing his tentacles off one by one. The sudden lack of warmth shocked the researcher a bit, but he knew this had to be done… Even if Wilbur couldn’t help the smile that reached his face every time Tommy instinctively tried to curl back around his hand.

“Alright Tommy I’ve brought you one new one, and it’s important that you figure it out okay?”

The mer just shrugged and lazily floated around Wilbur’s head, his tentacles pulsing under him to keep him up, “Yeah yeah, hand it over.”

Wilbur smiled at the young mer’s enthusiasm and dug through his bag until his hands met a sharp piece of metal. Even the feeling of it against his skin made him feel queasy.

“Alright just- I need you to go inside of it okay,” Wilbur stuttered nervously, “I just need to see if you can get out.”

Slowly he pulled out the “puzzle” from his bag and carefully watched the mer’s expression. Tommy looked curious and a little unsure, but not afraid. And his tentacles stayed at their natural shade of maroon.

Wilbur wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

The “puzzle” was actually a trap: one of the newest models the lab was using to catch more elusive specimens. And with all the talk about Tommy going around, he worried theyd start using it to hunt after the little mer. He new he’d get fired if they ever found out what he was doing, but he’d already failed his job by not bringing in the new creature he’d discovered.

What more harm could be done by teaching Tommy how to escape from his colleagues.

Tommy swam circles around the cage before letting his torso drift inside. Even though Wilbur knew what would happen, he still flinched when the sharp metal bars contracted around the mer.

“Woah shit,” Tommy laughed nervously as he tried to push the tight bars off of him, “Seems kinda dangerous for a puzzle yeah?”

Wilbur hummed, only paying attention to whether or not Tommy was hurt. The bars dug into his skin but it didn’t seem to draw any blood which was good.

Tommy stuck his tongue out in concentration as he slowly guided his tentacles through the metal bars. Each one prodded around against the container until they landed on a small metal latch.

“Too easy Wilbur,” Tommy grinned, and within seconds he’d broken the latch open.

Relief flooded through Wilbur’s body as he felt the mer wrap around his hand again, and this time Wilbur didn’t hesitate in giving him the head rubs he desired.

“Good job,” Wilbur hummed, “Fantastic.”

Tommy almost purred at the touch as Wilbur’s fingers scratched right above his ears. He swore the researcher’s hands were magic because he’d do anything to make him stay there in the water. But sadly, the human looked like he was half-frozen, and by the feeling of his icy skin Tommy didn’t think he could stay much longer.

“Alright,” Wilbur whispered after a few minutes, “I’m going to freeze to death if I stay any longer. I’ll see you again soon though. Maybe tomorrow. Be careful.”

Tommy deflated and wrapped himself tighter around Wilbur’s hand earning a small laugh form the researcher, “I’m always careful, who do you think I am?”

Wilbur stared fondly at the mer and gently pried him off of his hand, “I think you’re you Tommy. And I know you think you’re invincible. So be careful.”

The mer just pouted at the human’s scolding. He’d gone years without ever being caught (except for by Wilbur), so he didn’t understand why Wilbur was so paranoid. There was no way he’d be discovered again.

It was only when the same “puzzles” from that night started to pop up all over the reef that Tommy realized maybe Wilbur had a point…

[random-imagines-blog]

Love Peas {Hiram Lodge x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 1894 Summary: Hiram comes home after a very rough night. Notes: Mentions of death

Shifting under the covers, you heard a noise coming from downstairs. The house was usually quiet save for the murmur of the appliances and electronics, a sound that you had gotten used to over the months of living here with your boyfriend, Hiram. So each and every footstep on the ground sounded like a racket. You laid still, expecting the security system to trigger, saying that there was an intruder, but it did no such thing. The power was still on, you could hear the hum still, that little electrical buzz that was your constant background noise. So that meant whoever was in your house had the keycode. Hiram.

There was even more clamor from downstairs. A groaning sound. Now you knew for sure it was Hiram. You’ve heard him, unfortunately, be in pain on more than one occasion through your relationship. It was the price that he paid for being in the ‘business’ that he was.

You swept the blankets off of you, your bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. You pulled your robe closed over your pajamas as you made your way quickly to the door, through the hallway, and then started down the stairs to see what the damage was this time. You were always terrified that he was going to come home covered in blood, battered beyond repair. That you were going to hold him and hear nothing but the death rattle right before he would be gone. It was a scene that ran through your nightmares. A scene that if it were in front of you, you were ill-prepared to deal with.

There was nothing lazy, or just-woken up about your movements. Foot descending after foot on the runner of the stairs, keeping the chilliness of the hard floors at bay. Through the moonlight coming in through the windows, you were able to see a form just slipping out of the foyer, making it’s way to the kitchens. “Hiram?" You asked, reaching the bottom of the staircase and turning to follow. He was hurt, though there was no blood on the floor. There wasn’t a trail leading after him. But by the way that his leg was sliding behind him, it looked like it was broken at the very least. You flicked the switch and the kitchen came to life with bright lights, revealing everything. Under those florescent s, there was no room to hide.

Though Hiram was trying pretty hard to hide.

He sat down on the floor, head leaning back against the wooden cabinets. He was bruised, but that was an understatement. He was severely bruised. Black eye. Split lip. His usually perfect hair was tousled in a not-unattractive way but the very fact that he hadn’t immediately took a come to it scared you a little. If that was the state of his face, you were very concerned about the rest of him. You got down on your knees next to him, ignoring the discomfort, nervous to even touch him. He looked like he would break if he did.

“I can explain...” Hiram started off by saying, but then realized that he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this one. He’d look up into your face, and then would immediately try to cut off the eye contact, looking down at the ground instead.

“I think this is going a bit beyond the first aid box’s capabilities,” You winced upon seeing the other side of his face. Oh lord, even that eye was starting to swell up. He was close to being a human bruise at this point. That poor, gorgeous face of his. “Maybe we should get you to a hospital. Is anything broken? How did you get home?”

“Cab,” Hiram admitted, ignoring your first question. “The driver was - taking care of things while I left.”

“Christ, Hiram,” You groaned. You got up to your feet, dashing towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit that was in there. The amount of times that you had to replace this thing. The pharmacy probably thought that you were in an abusive relationship. You came back to see that he hardly moved, other than to wipe a bit of blood that was coming from the deep cut in his bottom lip. You sat back down beside him, opened up the first aid kit, tore into a package that contained an alcohol wipe and started to blot.

“Do we got any ice packs?” Hiram moaned. You stood up to go and check, looking through the contents of the freezer. You rummaged past the frozen vegetables, frozen pizzas, bottles of alcohol to find that - no, there were no ice packs in the freezer.

“Have to do with some vegetables,” You said, grabbing a bag of frozen peas. You held it up to his face, pressing it as tenderly as you could against the rougher looking eye. He hissed, and brought his hand up to grab it, only to show you how damaged that looked too. Bloody knuckles were the least of his worries. “We’re going to have to get that looked at,” You said, pointing towards his hand.

“It’s fine,” He muttered, letting it rest on the bag, which was resting on his face. It looked like it hurt. You didn’t know how he wasn’t crying out for a hospital. You would be if you sustained even half of those injuries.

“As much as we love peas in this house, I don’t think they’re going to be granting you any miracles,” You said, and went back to dabbing with the alcohol wipe. “Your lip is going to need stitches. The cuts too big. It won’t heal right.” “So call my Doctor,” Hiram growled, grumpily. By instinct, you slapped the top of his thigh, making him gasp out in pain and drop the frozen bag onto the ground. It broke open, the little green vegetables scattering across the tiled floor.

“I don’t care how hurt you are, you don’t talk to me like that,” You said, shaking your finger in his face. “I’m just worried about you. I don’t know how many more of these you can take before you have some serious internal injuries. Even Houdini died from a punch to the stomach, and you’re not nearly as good at escaping trouble as he is.”

“Mi amor, comparing me to a dead man,” Hiram groaned, pushing peas off of his lap. You got up again, your legs getting a work out from all of the squats that you were doing tonight, and grabbed another bag of frozen peas. It was weird that there were so many, but even rich people buy stuff that’s on sale sometimes. It’s how you stayed rich.

“You keep this up and you will be a dead man,” You quipped, putting the fresh bag on his face, holding it this time instead of letting him do it. “At least let me look at you, please?”

He finally gave a nod, and you slowly lifted his shirt to see all of the markings and bruises that were on his abdomen. His torso looked like a Jackson Pollock painting with the different shades of colors everywhere. You winced, bringing the shirt back down. You really hated seeing him look like this. You’ve been pleading with him to retire since the last time that he had received a beating like this. Or at the very least, hire someone younger to take his place in these fights. He was getting too old for this. “You should see the other guys,” He quipped.

“I don’t doubt it. And what were they - half your age?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, moving the bag from one eye to the other. “Hiram, my love, don’t you think it’s about time that you think about retiring? We can move away from Riverdale. We can get a spot on the beach somewhere, where it never snows. Where it’s never warm. Where the only damage you have to worry about is getting too much sun. Getting burned. But I’ll take care of you and always put sunscreen on you. Aloe vera if you do end up getting burned. Just - think about it, okay? For me?”

“I can’t give up my business like that,” Hiram shook his head, not even considering the possibility. You sighed. You knew that was going to be his answer. You hadn’t been expecting anything else. And yet you were still disappointed. As per usual. “I cannot be seen as weak or everything that I’ve done so far will have been for nothing. All of that work. I can’t pull out yet.”

“Of course you can’t,” You sighed. “At the very least, can you plan on it in the future? I don’t want to be putting this bag on your eyes when you’re well into your seventies.”

“Do you think we’ll still love peas then, mi amor?” He asked, breaking into a smile despite what must be a lot of pain, especially in his lip area.

“I think the better question is will I still love you them,” You teased. pressing a kiss onto one of the few parts of his face that wasn’t mottled with bruises. “But yes, to both. These are lovepeas, don’t you know. Rumor says that if you put them on the black eye of the person that you love, you’ll be together until the ends of the Earth. Or until there are no more peas. But given how the bees are dying out, that might not even be until the ends of the earth.”

“And your creativity is why I love you, and why I always come home,” Hiram said, taking your wrists around his hands. You smiled gently, loving that he cared about the weird side of you. Not just the well made-up person who was always by his side at work events. He always had a way of making you feel like you were someone special. Someone worth adoring.

Now if only you could actually get him out of the criminal business and move somewhere like Mexico where you can lie on the beach together.

“Do you love me enough to let me leave for a moment to call the Doctor? I am worried about this lip of yours. I need it stitched up and better so I can kiss you again.”

“Yes, I suppose I love you that much.” His thumbs would rub at the underside of your wrists for a moment, and then he would gently release you so you could get up and walk back to the bedroom where your cellphone was waiting. Even leaving him that long seemed like an eternity. You called the doctor while you were on your way back down the stairs, hanging up as you entered the kitchen, just in time to see Hiram picking one of the frozen peas off of the ground and popping it into his mouth.

“What are you doing?” You asked, going for the broom and dustpan to finally clean that mess up.

“Oh, I thought these were the feel-better peas. You eat a couple and then you feel all better until the end of time?” He’d ask, showing his very rare funny side. You laughed and shook your head.

“Let me clean these up then I’ll get you to your chair. The doctor is on his way.”

[deerixiie]

24/7 ramen.

description: you are iwaizumi’s home; even if he is forced to take you to a ramen place at 2 in the morning.

pairing: iwaizumi x gen!reader

genre/warning: banter, fluff, literally just filler dialogue with an overarching plot, light mentions of violence

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was inspired by some headcanons im going to post. oh and this is for @hajiimes... hehe <3

“I got into a fight.”

Iwaizumi paused, his phone hovering near his ear. He resisted the urge to let out a sharp laugh—of all the things, why did you have to get into a fight?—and slung his arm over his face. “And you lost?”

Iwaizumi could almost hear you pouting. “To be fair, they were-”

“But you lost.”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Iwaizumi dragged his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. “Why are you fighting people at,” he paused to squint at the digital clock on the dresser, “Two in the morning?”

“Ramen.”

“What?”

“Hot and spicy shrimp,” you said solemnly. “There was only one pack-”

“You’re aware we have finals tomorrow, right?”

“Exactly the reason why I wanted ramen.”

Iwaizumi sighed again. “Are you hurt?”

“Well, someone elbowed me in the eye-”

“The eye?”

“Yes the eye. I’m pretty sure it’s swollen, but other than that I’m perfectly fine.”

“Why do you sound so happy?” Iwaizumi asked, getting up to scour his closet for a hoodie. “You lost a fight over a pack of ramen.”

“Well technically, no one won the fight. We all got kicked out of the store. Poor guy didn’t even keep his ramen.”

“Which store?”

“Walmart.”

“You couldn’t have gone to a convenience store or something?” Iwaizumi pulled on the hoodie Oikawa sent him from Argentina and grabbed an old Godzilla hoodie from his closet.

“Haji, this is Socal, not Japan,” you condescended. Iwaizumi scoffed at how haughty you sounded. “I’m sure Socal has convenience stores,” he muttered.

“Well, Walmart was the closest.”

“You could’ve woken me up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, moving on to grab the keys off the drawer, “I would’ve taken you to a convenience store.”

“But you were sleeping.”

“So? You know how dangerous that was? I’d feel a little better if I was there.”

“Yeah, but I wanted ramen,” you sighed. “Anyway, can you pick me up, Haji? It’s getting cold.”

Iwaizumi shut the apartment door with a quiet click. “I’m leaving the apartment now.”

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling that you’d want me to pick you up.”

“Okay. Oh, and remember to drive on the right side of the road.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure? You almost drove into a tree last time.”

“Because I was tired.” Iwaizumi opened the door to the car, dropping the hoodie into the passenger’s seat. “Tired people don’t think straight.”

“Aren’t you tired right now?”

“No, I’ve been awake since you told me you got into a fight. You need to tell me what the hell actually happened there.”

“I told you, it was ramen,” you huffed. “There was one pack of spicy shrimp and three desperate college students in need of ramen.”

“So you fought for it.”

“I lunged for it, some other dude shoved me, I crashed into the third person, and then he was pushing them and I was on the floor and then someone’s elbow was in my eye and then the employee grabbed us and tossed us out.”

Iwaizumi took a moment to process your words. “You sound proud of yourself.”

“I’m not. I didn’t get the ramen.”

“No one got the ramen,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“I mean yeah, but now I can tell people I’ve been in a fight.”

“Why would you want to tell someone you’ve been in a fight?”

“I dunno,” you sighed. “I’m tired and hungry. Tired and hungry people say weird things.”

“Damn right.”

“That was an insult.”

“It was.”

“Ouch.”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond, lightly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to turn green.

“My eye hurts,” you said suddenly, your voice crackling from the phone’s speaker.

Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“No,” you decide. “Ramen would make it better.”

“So now I’m buying you ramen?”

“Yeah.”

“At 2 AM?”

“It’s 2:28 now.”

Iwaizumi scoffed.

“I found this ramen place that’s open,” you said. “24/7 Ramen. It’s 25 minutes from here.”

“Why is there a ramen place open for 24 hours?” he muttered, half to himself.

“It’s probably run by college students. That’s why the name is catchy too.”

“Catchy?”

“It sounds like a song. You know, 24 Karat Magic by Bruno Mars.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What?” Iwaizumi found himself flinching, despite the fact it was simply your voice coming from his phone’s speaker. “How have you been living in America for two years without ever hearing 24 Karat Magic? That song is a classic.”

“I think you’re forgetting you’re speaking to a guy born and raised in Japan.”

“Haji, you’ve been here for two years. That’s 24 months. 48 weeks. And a certain amount of days I’m too tired to calculate.”

Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “730.”

“730-” you paused. “How the hell did you calculate that so fast?”

“Dealing with stupid people makes you smarter, I guess.”

“No, ramen makes you smarter.” You sighed. “I really want ramen.”

“I heard.” Iwaizumi turned the steering wheel, bringing the car into the Walmart parking lot. “And I’m here now, so you can stop whining.”

“Oh, I see you. Do you see me?”

There was a figure sitting on the front curb, waving erratically in Iwaizumi’s direction. “I see an idiot waving at me like their life depends on it, so yes, I see you.”

“I think being around stupid people makes you grumpy,” you grumbled.

“No, having to pick my significant other up from Walmart at 2 in the morning makes me grumpy.”

You responded by scoffing and hanging up the phone. Seconds later, you were sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Aw, did you bring a hoodie for me?” you asked, glancing down at the Godzilla hoodie that you almost sat down on.

Iwaizumi glanced over to you, raising an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Hi, I love you, thank you for picking me up. Happy now?”

“I’m ecstatic. Yes, that hoodie is for you.”

You smiled, pulling the hoodie on over your shirt and relaxing into the seat. Iwaizumi carefully looked over your face. The only noticeable injury was the ring of darkness around your eye—did they really elbow you that hard?—and a slight cut on your upper lip, but those would heal soon. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What, is there something on my face?” you asked, reaching up to brush your fingers over your cheek.

“You have a black eye.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Damn. Is it bad?”

“No, not really.” He checked the dashboard for the time and slightly frowned. “Where’s the ramen place?”

24/7 Ramen was a small convenience store in between an optometrist and a cigarette shop. On the outside, it wasn’t much. The name of the store was illuminated in large flickering neon letters. The exterior brick walls of the store were dusty and crumbling with age and wore. The windows were covered with assorted posters and papers, some for missing children, upcoming movies, and advertisements for Japanese snacks.

“Oh, so this is like a Japanese convenience store then?” you asked, looking at one of the Japanese ads. “I guess you were right.”

“Told you.”

“Just come on and buy me my ramen.”

The door opened with a familiar chime that reminded Iwaizumi of warm yakisoba buns, tangled with the sight of preppy school uniforms, and of course, Oikawa Tooru. The layout of the store was straight out of Japan, overwhelming him with countless reels of tender highschool memories. If he closed his eyes he could see himself standing right there, bag under his arm, Oikawa at his shoulder.

“Feeling a little nostalgic, huh?”

His head whipped toward you standing behind him with an amused smile on your face. “This place does have a Japanese feel to it.” You raised your eyebrow in that insufferably adorable way of yours, and Iwaizumi found it hard to breathe.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as a flush began to form on his cheeks. “Be quiet.”

You hummed but made no other comment, instead choosing to shoot him another knowing look that made his blood roar in his ears. You started moving through the store, picking cups of ramen off the shelves. He hovered behind you, still embarrassed about his nostalgic moment—was he that homesick?—occasionally picking up cups of ramen and examining them before placing them back onto the shelf.

After what seemed like ages, you presented your armful of ramen cups with a proud smile. “I’m done.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not buying you 15 cups of ramen.”

“But you promised-“

“Each one is like, 65 cents? I’ll buy you 5, max.”

“Why not more?”

“I’m just as broke as you are.”

You sighed in defeat. “Being broke in college sucks.”

“I told you we should’ve held off on getting a car.”

“But I wanted a car!”

“More than you want ramen?”

“That’s- that’s an unfair comparison!”

Iwaizumi continued to go back and forth with you, even as you paid for the ramen at the cash register. You were in the middle of a frantic explanation of why investing in a car was important in California when you finally made it outside.

The air was still and cool, save for the slight breeze that occasionally tangled in Iwaizumi’s spiky locks. The only sounds were the distant cars speeding across the road and the faint sound of crickets chirping, for you had both fallen silent after leaving the convenience store. Iwaizumi turned to look at you: one eye swollen, upper lip bleeding, a plastic bag full of convenience store ramen clutched tightly in your hand. He could see the fire in your eyes, that odd determination to make your own dreams a reality, no matter how fickle or ridiculous they were. It was similar to the drive he saw in Oikawa’s eyes, he realized. The reckless, worthless one that seemed to be a double-edged sword.

Maybe that’s why whenever he looked at you, he felt like he was at home.

“I love you, you know that?”

You cocked your head to the side and smiled slightly. “Where did that come from?”

He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets again, turning away from your curious gaze. The corners of your mouth pulled up into a faint smile. Without warning, you turned Iwaizumi toward you with your finger and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And then you were bounding off toward the car, the plastic bag jostling in your hand.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi called, starting after you. “Come back here so I can kiss you properly.”

“I want my ramen!” came your response from the car. “No kisses until I get my ramen!”

Iwaizumi chuckled softly. You were annoying and feisty, but you still managed to make him feel right at home.

taglist in reblog; please comment/reblog with comments in the tags or in the post if you enjoyed!! i love hearing your feedback :)

[skittlebits]

Safe

Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers

Words - 1,500

Summary - Natasha gets her first head cold while traveling in space. Carol takes care of her.

Tags - Fluff, Post-Endgame (slight canon-divergence because Nat isn’t dead), mentions of Vormir, mild illness, administering medication, bed sharing

Read on AO3

“I managed to live thirty-nine years on Earth without catching so much as a cold, but I travel to another galaxy one time and I’m down for the count? What the hell, Danvers?”

Natasha sat slumped at the table, her arm propping up her aching head. Several thin swaths of cloth lay crumpled on the table in front of her, sodden with her efforts to stem the flow of mucus from her reddened nose.

Carol stood at the first aid cabinet rummaging through a box of supplies. “You’re talking to a person who has alien blood flowing through her veins. I kind of forgot people even got viruses.”

Natasha tried glaring at Carol but it made her head hurt even more and she winced. “Lucky bitch,” she grumbled.

“Well, I’d take you to Hala and get you hooked up with some alien blood of your own but unfortunately the entire Kree race wants me dead, so,” Carol shrugged. She pulled a canvas bag out of the box and brought it to the table.

“Why can’t I have some of yours then?” Natasha asked, only partly joking. She’d almost be willing to drink a pint of blood right about now if she thought it would ease the pounding pressure in her head. She watched as Carol sat next to her at the table, inspecting the contents of the bag. “I mean, you did go through the trouble to save me on Vormir and all.”

Carol looked up from the bag and shot Natasha a look. “I swear, if you’re about to make fun of me for-“

Natasha straightened up and put a hand up in front of her in a placating gesture, realizing belatedly how flippant that had sounded. “No, I swear, I’m not. I’m sorry, that was rude.” She sighed and winced when the simple act made her eyes water. “I can’t think straight with this sinus pressure and I’m being a bitch and you don’t deserve that.”

Carol looked at her for a moment before returning her attention to the bag.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Natasha swallowed thickly. She still wasn’t used to navigating this relatively new territory.

“I know how lucky I am, Carol. There will never be a day go by where I’m not profoundly grateful for what you did on Vormir…even if you did almost scare me to death, which, granted, I guess I deserved. So, I’m sorry. I promise the next time I ask you to give me alien healing powers I’ll be a lot more tactful and much less whiny and pitiful.”

Natasha breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Carol smile but was quickly taken over with a series of wet sneezes. She felt one of her ears pop and she felt like she was underwater.

She was going to run out of cloth to blow her nose on at this rate.

Carol finally pulled two small containers out of the medical bag - one containing a liquid and one with pills.

“Okay, I think these are your best opinions for relief until we stop somewhere that has whatever passes for cold and flu medication out in this quadrant of the galaxy we’re in.” She shook the bottle with the pills. “These are anti-inflammatory meds, and this,” she held up the vial of clear liquid, “is a painkiller of some sort.” She looked at the label for a moment and hummed. “Yeah, you definitely won’t feel the pressure in your head on this stuff. We might want to just do a half dose of this one.”

Natasha closed her eyes and sighed. She hated taking any sort of medication. Normally she could put mind over matter but her face felt like it was about to explode and it hurt just to focus her eyes. And maybe it was okay to indulge. She wasn’t in a battle somewhere, she was safe on Carol’s spacecraft.

“Okay, I’ll take both,” she finally decided. Carol handed her the bottle of pills so she could grab a syringe from the bag.

“Want me to give you this one or do you want to do it yourself?” Carol asked, holding up the syringe and vial for Natasha’s inspection.

Natasha fumbled with the pill bottle as she struggled to get the lid off. Her muscles ached with the simple effort. “I think I’m going to need you to do it, Nurse Carol,” she admitted quietly. She swallowed two of the pills and chased them down with the tea she had been nursing.

Carol grinned and got to work on setting up the syringe. “Is Nurse Carol also going to be carrying you to bed so you can rest?” she teased, tugging the shoulder of Natasha’s shirt down to expose her upper arm. Natasha raised her shoulder to help expose enough skin for Carol to get to the muscle. She winced at the injection.

“Is Nurse Carol going to tell another living soul if she does?”

Carol capped the syringe and put the medicines back into the bag. “Of course not, I’m not stupid.”

Natasha smiled even though it made her face hurt. “Then yes please.”

Carol put the bag back into the first aid cabinet and pulled out a small stack of triangle bandages. She placed them on the table near the pile of crumpled, sodden cloth. “We’re on these now for your nose. All the smaller ones have been used up. I’ll cut them into quarters while you rest. When we stop for medicine I’ll look into better options to keep on board,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “I know it’s been almost three months but I still…it’s still so new, having someone with me in a space I’ve spent so long alone in.”

Natasha turned on her stool so she was facing Carol and gave her a tender look. “Hey, this is still new to me as well, so I understand,” she assured her.

Natasha’s eyes welled up suddenly and Carol stepped forward in concern but Natasha looked away and put up a hand to stop Carol from coming any nearer. A moment passed before Natasha was overcome with another sneezing fit and Carol relaxed.

“Sorry, I felt it coming on and didn’t want to sneeze in your face,” Natasha said, sniffling as she wiped her eyes. She reached back toward the table to grab a couple of the drier cloths from the table before lifting her arms to make a grabby hand gesture at Carol. “Please take me to bed before the drugs kick in and I get any more pathetic than I already am,” she begged, tiredly.

Carol laughed and easily scooped Natasha up into her arms. “You’re not pathetic, you’re adorable,” she said, walking past the bathroom and the spare bunk room to the main personal quarters on the ship. She carefully deposited Natasha on the sleeping platform and moved toward the end of the platform to begin unlacing her boots while Natasha arranged the pillows in a pile to help ease the pressure in her head.. Once her boots were off Carol arranged the blankets around Natasha until she was tucked in comfortably.

“M’not adorable,” Natasha grumbled, her eyelids drooping as she watched Carol smiling softly at her.

“You totally are.”

Natasha groaned weakly, “You’re enjoying this too much.”

Carol grinned. “Want me to hold you?”

Natasha nodded her head against the pillows. “Yes please.”

Carol climbed onto the platform beside Natasha and opened her arms. Natasha turned toward her immediately and buried her face in Carol’s chest, her hand resting above her heart. Carol shoved the pillows behind her to keep them both propped up a bit before wrapping her arms around Natasha.

“Better?”

“Mm, I love how you’re always so warm.”

Carol gently ran her fingers through red tresses, soothing. “I’m glad you think I’m hot,” she teased.

“That too,” Natasha murmured, snuggling further into Carol, “M’glad I fell in love with you. Lots of perks.”

Carol fought off a dopey grin and held Natasha a little tighter. “I’m glad you fell in love with me too, otherwise throwing myself off that cliff to get the soul stone wouldn’t have worked and then it just would have been super awkward after.”

Natasha sniffled as she smiled into the soft fabric of Carol’s shirt. “I almost broke my hand slapping you afterward, you idiot. I can’t believe that actually worked though. I guess it was kind of romantic.”

Carol craned her head down to look at Natasha, indignant. “Kind of? Only kind of romantic?”

Natasha hummed dreamily. The painkiller had started to kick in. “You scared the hell out of me, and Clint and that creepy red guy were there.” Carol scoffed. “But you know what I think is really romantic?” Natasha asked softly.

“What’s that, love” Carol asked, running her fingers through Natasha’s hair once more.

“You make m’feel safe… I n’er had tha..before you.”

Carol smiled and kissed the top of Natasha’s head.

“I love you, Tash. Sweet dreams.”

[stardust-kenobi]

Necklace

Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: Poe returns to base after a very risky and long battle against the First Order. In the time he’d been gone, and his life flashing before his eyes, he wants to show you how badly he missed you, and how much you mean to him.

Warnings: Filthy, descriptive, SMUT (fingering, m/f oral giving and receiving, daddy kink, choking, vaginal sex) starts with some adorable fluffiness from my fav little resistance pilot 🥺 mentions of death and blood...but yeah mostly smut.

A/n: I’m unapologetically horny for Poe. I’ve been dying to write content for this man, I love him so much. If anyone has any Poe/sequel specific blog recommendations, lmk!

Word count: 4k

Request from @princessxkenobi. You’re the best✨💕 hope you enjoy! Btw, I took your request and RAN with it lmao

gif is not mine

Your stomach tumbled aggressively in your abdomen. Every pilot that joined Poe on their dangerous mission, almost three weeks ago, was currently exiting their x-wings...except Poe. The Falcon lowered from the sky, landing roughly on the grass. Exiting the ship was Finn and Rey, but still no Poe. The love of your life, your soul mate, your other half...was he gone?

You swallowed hard, forcing back the sorrow lump in your throat that crept up with the realization of what could have happened. A sickness formed in your stomach when your eyes scan the field of landing ships, still not identifying his distinguishable transport.

“No..” you whispered your cry. A cold, stray tear fell over your cheek bone. Your vision went blurry and your mind became a looped, dizzy mess in the wake of your distress.-

Before you fell apart completely, something interrupted you.

“There’s my baby girl” A voice broke the empty air behind you. Your gasp was caught in your throat and you found it hard to breathe for the milliseconds between your pain and your relief. Your body swung around swiftly for your eyes to meet Poe’s loving gaze. His bag slid from his shoulder to meet the ground. He hustled toward you, arms spread open to welcome you into his embrace.

“Poe...” You mumbled softly. That was the only word that your trembling lips could develop in your moment of shock. You reminded yourself to breath. 30 seconds prior to this engagement, you assumed that you’d lost the love of your life to the relentless violence of the First Order. But he was here, he was holding you, he was alive.

“God, I'm so happy to see you, y/n” His head rested atop yours and his arms provided shelter around your body.

“I thought you were gone, Poe” you looked up at him, tears still pooled in your eyelids. Your voice broke as his name rolled off your tongue. That same lump in your throat returned, or maybe it never left.

“Shhh” He calmed you, his hand caressed your head to comfort your distress. “It’s okay”.

The active twinkling stars in the night sky illuminated his features for you to admire. You scan every inch of his face, taking it in as if you’d never see him again. As you scanned upward, you suddenly noticed the dark red liquid dried to his forehead. Your stomach sank.

“What happened?” You direct your attention to his injury. “Are you okay?”. You pulled a rag from his abandoned bag, and quickly tried to clean it from his skin.

“Oh...yeah, I’m okay, y/n. It doesn’t hurt. Just got blasted and hit my head on the side metal of my x-wing. It was a...a close call...but I got out of there in time.” His voice was like honey to your ears in the midst of your worries. Poe picked up your hands that had fallen from gripping his body. Gentle kisses graced your knuckles. “To come back to you, baby”

“I missed you so much, Poe. I didn’t see you land and immediately assumed the worst” you admitted to him, still holding back your tears that were slowly subsiding.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m sorry” he assured.

“I’d be a mess if you hadn’t come back” You admitted.

“That’ll never happen, y/n” He assured you, with no real ability to promise this, but it was comforting to you in the moment.

He kissed your forehead and offered a warm smile, resulting in a grin forming at your lips as well. It quickly turned upside down at the sight of a tear trailing down Poe’s face came into view.

“Poe what’s wrong?” You asked so worrisome.

He instantly looked distressed from your inquiry like he was barely holding it together prior to your concern.

“It was really hard out there. Seeing you just-” his broken voice interrupted his thoughts “it made me remember how lucky I am to have you in my life. It could be over in an instant. But I have you” he pushed through his shakiness. Your thumb meets his cheek to wipe away his sorrow.

You pushed your body up against him, and planted a kiss onto his unexpecting lips. It was deep and passionate and definitely what he needed to feel. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down into your face.

There were others wandering around you, unloading gear, welcoming the pilots back home, rejoicing in the success, but you knew that the intimacy of your kiss would go unnoticed by anyone else. You felt alone with Poe, like no one else existed in the whole galaxy.

He encouraged the kiss further, rotating his lips around yours slowly. The moan that crept from his mouth indicated a desire for more. The relief of being reunited sparked a hunger in you as well. You wanted him.

You both gathered your composure after a few minutes of consoling each other, just thankful to be safe, and together.

“I need to be alone with you” he said, sounding as if he would go insane if he wasn’t able to have you soon.

“Let me show you how much I really missed you” he whispered into your ear. You shoot him an are you sure? look considering the abundance of company around you. Surely there’d be no privacy for a while, and you’d have to be very quiet in his small quarters. “I need you” he practically begged. You happily nodded in agreement.

“C’mon” he smirked and took your hand, leading you away from the commotion of the base and to the partial privacy of his room. There were people that he stopped and spoke with on the way there. You were so eager for alone time, it was torture every time your journey was interrupted.

You both finally arrived. He closed the door behind you. The familiarity of the harsh fluorescent lighting and the tight enclosure of the room was oddly comforting, but surely not romantic.

“Well that won’t set the mood, will it?” He chuckled, referring to the uneasy lighting above. He pulled a lighter from his pocket, and lit a small candle on the table next to the cot. The lights shut off, revealing a sudden romantic environment, softly lit by a single flame.

A small, black curl laid lonely on his forehead, which you slowly moved away from his face. You stood there together, in the middle of the room, absorbing each other’s presence. Your anticipation rose for what was about to happen. You missed his bare body against yours. You needed him now.

He subtly licked his lips while studying the curve of your bottom lip. Once you both understood that you were alone, he practically pounced onto you with a burning hunger in his gaze. Poe’s kisses were heavy and intimate. Every movement of his mouth was rhythmic. His hands gripped your face, as if to pull you even closer to him, which was completely impossible.

“Fuck I missed you baby” he breathed in between the bursts of fusion of your mouths.

“Me too” you managed to say before his lips were on yours again.

He walked backwards slowly and pulled you with him. He sat down onto the cot and guided your legs to straddle him at his waist. Poe maneuvered the cloth of your coat down your shoulders and slid it down to the floor, leaving you in a thin cropped tank top and your shorts. His calloused hands drew goosebumps where they touched when they travelled over your arms. His kisses transported to the skin on your neck, cascading down to the collarbone. You leaned into him, absorbing the delicacy of his admiration. 

You moaned quietly which grabbed his attention almost immediately. He looked up at you, the same starving look of desire in his eyes with a cocky smirk plastered onto his face. 

“What was that about you showing me how much you missed me?” you purred into his ear, teasing him, and placing your lips at his neck now. Your fingers worked to unbutton his shirt. The motions you made at his skin earned a small groan from his lips. This subtle sound alone formed a heat between your legs.

His grip, already around your waist, tightened as your question rang his ears. Poe knew that sex with you was always paradise, but taking it slow always resulted in a level of intimacy he’s only ever felt with you. He needed to take his time with you, but at this moment it was so hard for him to do so with how badly he missed you.

You removed his shirt, revealing the broadness of his chest, presented to you so closely. You cannot help but stare intently at his features. Your fingertips traced the outline of his chiseled abdomen. The necklace he always wore, that you’d never seen him without, remained around his neck. You loved the way it looked on him, and wouldn’t dare take it off.

Poe swiftly removed your top that clung so tightly to your body. He is met with the sight of your breasts that were unrestrained under your clothes.

“Oh baby girl I missed these” he cooed and cupped your exposed tits in his hands. His brows furrowed in a look is desperation before his lips wrapped around your stiffened nipples. You moan at the contact, you can feel yourself become even wetter by the second.

You rolled your hips forward, and when you did, you felt the bulge that was begging to be let free from his pants. He moaned instantly when you brushed your core against him.

Poe made a quick decision to stand up, lifting you by your ass, and turned to place you firmly on the cot. Your head was rested on his pillow while he positioned his body above yours. The curl that previously sat on his forehead now dangled above your face, which made you chuckle, but also, he looked so hot like that. The chain of his necklace hung down from his skin, too, something he knew was a huge turn on for you. You liked for him to fuck you while it swung in your face. When he noticed you stare at it, he giggled.

“I know you like that, don’t you?” He smirked. You nodded your head, offering no words, eager for him to proceed.

“Poe” you breath, simultaneously grasping at his belt.

“Be patient, baby” he commanded before attacking your lips again. His tongue forced its way between your lips and explored your mouth freely. Moaning into his mouth only made him kiss you harder. The feeling of his hips rested between your thighs through the layers of both your pants was agonizing. Your knees and thighs tried to push themselves together. He felt this around his hips and pulled his lips from you instantly.

Leaning back onto his knees, he unbuttoned your shorts and slowly slid them and your panties down your thighs. After throwing them onto the floor, he sat there and took a long, sensual look at your naked body, licking his lips at what he saw. At this angle you could clearly see how restricted his cock was for you to observe the long outline.

“Fuck. I missed this view so much princess” he groaned while lowering his body back onto the cot, his face moving in between your thighs. His face was inches from where you were aching for him. “Do your best to be quiet, baby” he lightly laughed through his nose and smiled at you sweetly.

“I don't know if I can but I’ll try” you joked.

And with that, his tongue curled onto your clit, taking you into his mouth. Your body twitched at the sudden sensation you’d been robbed of for weeks. The second he tasted you, a low, gruff moan leapt from his throat. His tongue swirled over your sensitive clit, rhythmically and consistently drawing figures with the tip.

“Fuck, you are so wet already” he took a break to look up at you. Not breaking eye contact, he leaned up to push two fingers into your mouth.

“Suck on them” he demanded. You obeyed and sucked on his coarse fingers. He watched with pleasure as you moistened them in your mouth. He then removed them and replaced his glistened fingers at your entrance. Without hesitation, he pushed them inside of your wet warmth.

“Oh fuck” you sharply moaned. His tongue returned to your clit while he pumped his fingers inside of you. He moaned too, turned on by your pleasurable sounds, sending vibrations across your sensitivity.

Your hands found their way to his head, your fingers locked in his waves of black strands. He curled his two fingers, adding to your pleasure. Already, you feel your climax approaching.

“Poe, I’m close” you announced. He instantly pulled his mouth and fingers from your pussy, causing agony for you. He suddenly crawled up to you, hovering over you. His fingers replaced themselves at your core, but it was his flattened fingers pressed against your clit this time. He began to rub firmly back and forth, responding to how you bucked your hips at his touch, picking back up where you left off.

“I want you to look at me when you cum, baby girl” he growled, face so close to yours, intently staring at your expression while you displayed how good he made you feel.

You felt the tightness bundle between your thighs while his hand set a constant pace that perfectly stimulated your clit. You could feel how intense it was going to be before you even reached your orgasm.

“S-shit” you stuttered, focused on your climax.

“That’s it, yeah” he encouraged you.

It washed over you like an ocean wave. Radiating from the center of your euphoria and spreading across your body. Your attempt to be quiet was weak, your moans and whimpering filled the air of his small room. Neither of you cared anymore who was on the other side. Poe’s eyes never left you while you threw your head back in pleasure. Your legs quivered in his touch as he did not let up once during your orgasm. You think he may have rubbed you faster once you hit your peak, causing a more intense high for you.

A very long ride came down slowly. You tried to catch your breath during the time that Poe slowed his motions and removed it from you.

“God, you look so fucking hot cumming for me, y/n” he cooed in your ear, still hovering above you. His tone grew kinkier by the second.

You giggled, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone any words. Poe pushed himself back into his knees.

While staring deep into your eyes, looking at you with an primal expression that indicated how badly he was about to destroy you, he slowly unbuckled his belt, never breaking eye contact with you. You melted at how fucking hot he looks before his clothes are even completely removed.

His pants meet the ground, his underwear going with it. Seeing his fully erect cock pulled a whimper from your throat. He blushed and pushed a smile from his face.

“On your knees” he commanded, standing next to his cot. He usually wasn’t this demanding during sex, but something seemed a lot more dominant in him tonight. You loved it, so of course you obeyed.

“Yes, sir” you purred at him and got on your knees in front of him.

“Listen to me, baby girl” he started, grabbing the back of your head and tilting it up at him. “Suck daddy’s cock like a good little girl”.

The words leaving his mouth caught you off guard, sent shivers down your spine, and made your clit throb more than it was following your orgasm all at the same time. You’d never heard him talk like that before, nor had he ever mentioned a kink for this. You surely had no objection to going along with it.

You smirked at him, wrapping your fist around his shaft and placing the tip at your extended tongue. You teased him lightly.

“C’mon baby. No teasing” He smirked. You look up at him with baby doll eyes before proceeding.

Giving you no time to cease your teasing, he very suddenly forces his cock to the back of your throat. You gag initially, but adjust quickly to your mouth being completely filled by his length. 

“Mmmm” He groaned as he held your mouth steady wrapped around him.

Deep, hungry moans crawled out of his mouth when you began to bob your head back and forth onto his dick. You used your technique that you know drove him crazy, and tried a new motion with your tongue. 

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, good girl” He reacted instantly, meeting your innocent eyes again. You loved hearing him praise you and encourage you with his moaning.

You add your hands to the bottom section of his length while you continued to swirl your mouth around the top of him. 

“So fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby”

You move faster now, paying close attention to the tip, knowing that was his most sensitive spot. His breath hitched, and you could tell he was eager to have himself buried somewhere else inside you. 

“But y’know...I think you’d look prettier with my cock in that tight little pussy...you think you can handle that?” He growled at a level of a whisper, his words made you melt. He abruptly removed himself from your mouth and lifted you from the ground and onto the cot. 

“Yes, daddy” you purred back at him. Poe’s eyes subtly lit up, he was so glad you were into this, too. He returned you to your position from earlier, comfortably flat on your back, knees up. He loved to start in missionary because he wanted to gaze into your eyes when he first fills you.

He hovered back on top of you, positioning his his hips between thighs, one arm was placed firm in the mattress beside your head, the other trailed up your thigh, soaking in the feeling of your soft skin. Wasting no additional time, the tip of his cock parts your slit and he pushes himself into you.

A sharp, prolonged gasp escaped you as he buried himself completely inside of you, his hips as close to your body as possible.

“God damn, baby girl” his voice turned soft when he truly felt how wet you were for him. He brought motion to his hips and looked down into your eyes. His necklace hung directly above you, swinging with every thrust he took. You watched it, loving the way it looked around his skin. His expression held a look of lust and angst simultaneously, which made your heart beat faster. He dared not to break eye contact with you. Watching your eyes roll back from the pleasure of being fucked by him drove him crazy. And despite the roughness of the passion you were sharing as a result of your time apart, you were still his baby girl and wanted to be as intimate as possible.

“Yes, Poe” you whimpered. A scowl appeared on his face.

“Who? You know my name” he growled at you, pounding your pussy harder with aggression.

“Daddy” you moan, louder.

“Good girl” his voice was so gruff. Suddenly, his hand was wrapped around your throat, applying pressure. You struggle to breath in the most erotic way. Your gasping transformed to whines. Poe loved to watch you wear his fist as a necklace while he fucked you. 

“How am I supposed to last, when you look so fucking gorgeous being filled with my cock?” He whispered, lips brushed against your ear, chills erupted down your body. His grip on your neck was released.

“I love you” you mumbled, allowing a grin to develop on your face. You said it out of no where, but you needed him to hear it. Poe’s seductive stare instantly transformed to a smile, as if he was breaking character from the rough exterior he presented.

“I love you, too, y/n” he breathed before kissing you so delicately and slowing his hips. “Now, turn around” he returned to commanding your actions. You get on your hands and knees, backing yourself up to him, craving to be fucked from behind. 

No warning was given before he slammed his dick into you again. You cried out, not expecting how good it would feel. At this angle, he reached your sweetest spot with every thrust. You found it impossible to muffle your sounds. He watched as your ass jiggled against him every time your skin touched. His calloused hand motioned circles against your ass cheek, prepping it for what he would do next. He pulled back and brought the flattened palm to meet your skin, slapping it firmly. When you moaned out in response, he did it several more times, and enjoyed every strike against your ass. 

“Forget being quiet, I want everyone to hear you getting fucked, got it?” Poe growled. You didn’t hesitate, and released all your expression of ecstasy into the small room, knowing your voice was escaping the walls. His voice joined yours as well, which was music your ears.

He curled his hips into you harder and faster now, his fingertips scratched down the length of your back. When you leaned your head back into it, Poe grabbed the bulk of your hair, using it as a handle while pulling your head back with it. 

“Oh, god” you cried as the pleasure became unbearable.

“You like being daddy’s good little slut? Huh?” he grew louder. You melted yet again at him speaking to you like this.

“I do, I love it” 

“You wanna cum again, baby girl?”

“p-please” you begged.

“Uh-uh, please, what?” 

“Please, daddy, make me cum” 

“Well, since you asked so politely” he cooed, bringing his hand around you to rub your clit while he continued to fuck you. Being filled and having your most sensitive area stimulated simultaneously was overwhelming. You could already feel your second orgasm forming in the pit of your belly.

“Fuck, Poe, I’m so close” you desperately whined.

“I’ll let that one slide for now” he scolded for addressing him incorrectly.

You felt your orgasm unravel, spilling over your body and spreading inside you. Your body trembled, unable to handle the overstimulation you experienced. It was longer than before, keeping you in a state of euphoria for what felt like hours.

“Yessss, princess, cum on my cock” he praised. 

Riding out the end of your glorious high, you became suddenly aware of how loud you were, but you still didn’t care.

“I’m gonna cum too” his breath grew shaky. “When I pull out, I want you to turn around” Poe instructed. You turned to shake your head in agreement.

And with that, he removed himself, his moans growing choppy. You turned over onto your back as requested and positioned your mouth under his length and extended your tongue. 

“Oh fuck” Poe stroked himself over you, crying out deeply in euphoria as he hit his climax. He released his hot cum all over your face, some making it onto your mouth. What was left on your cheeks, you gathered with your thumb, bringing it to your mouth and swallowing it while Poe watched.

He collapsed next to you on the small cot that was barely big enough to fit both of you. 

“That was...” you began, struggling to properly describe your satisfaction.

“Incredible” he completed your sentence. 

“Yeah” you agreed, a giggle trailing your words. “So that’s how much you missed me, huh?” you teased. Poe pulled you into his arms, your head rested on his chest as it rose and fall with his breathing.

As you tried to catch your breath, you were both jolted by an alarming banging at the door.

Shit. 

“Can you guys, uh, maybe keep it down in there?” Finn’s voice travelled through the wall. You looked at Poe, absolutely mortified. 

“Yeah, bud, we’ll do our best. Hope you enjoyed the show” Poe yelled, dying of laughter at the situation. But you? Not so much. You’d never look Finn in the eyes again.

[haidyn-reeves]

Lie to Me

Summary: The classic truth spell trope with a wicked twist.

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4948 

Warnings: Dean’s an asshole. Angst makes the world go ‘round. Insecurities briefly mentioned. Did I mention Dean’s an asshole? Fluff if you squint.

A/N: I’m back! This is my entry for @jawritter‘s Make Me Cry challenge and @deanwanddamons 2k Celebration! My prompts are in bold. I hope y’all enjoy!

It was no secret that Dean had changed since he took the Mark of Cain. He was more reckless than normal, which only progressed after taking out the entire Stine family for what they did to Charlie and almost did to Y/N. Y/N was in the bunker when the Stines invaded, resorting to hiding in one of the trunks of the classic cars in the garage to stay safe. Once Dean left Castiel bloody and battered in the library, he raced to the garage, having told Y/N not to move until he came for her. When he found her, his features only softened once he saw how terrified she was of him; the amount of blood covering his clothes and hands was enough to turn her stomach. Y/N, as usual, did her best to clean up the older Winchester, using it as a way to distract her from what happened only hours prior. When it was time to say goodbye to Charlie, Y/N separated herself from the brothers, the tension between them so thick you needed a chainsaw to cut through. Dean tossed some heated remarks to Sam and Y/N sank to the muddy ground, furious that this was happening in front of the pyre that held their dear friend. Dean stormed off and Sam came around to help her up, the pair watching the bow-legged hunter climb into his Impala and drive away.

Dean was angry, and the only way he knew how to release that anger was to hunt and kill whatever he could. He scoured the news, desperate to find something he could take down, preferably alone. He couldn’t look at Sam, blaming his brother for the death of his surrogate sister. He didn’t want to bring Y/N with him, he just wanted to drive, hunt, and kill.

Dean found a case, one that would hopefully settle the Mark’s need for blood and his own anger. The fact that it was a witch was an added bonus.

He left in the middle of the night when Sam and Y/N couldn’t try to stop him or tag along. He felt a little bad leaving Y/N behind but the Mark stung too badly for him to care at the moment. He wouldn’t be gone long, the case was only two states over, he’d back soon enough. 

In the bunker, Y/N was pissed that Dean was ignoring her calls. Sam expected it, he knew how angry Dean was, so he expected for his brother to ignore him, but Y/N? He adored her, for Dean to ignore her was unlike him. Y/N was confused, she wasn’t part of the plot to save Dean, Sam explicitly kept her out of the loop because he knew asking her to sneak behind Dean’s back was out of the question. She was loyal to the older Winchester, to a fault, and asking her to go against his wishes was more than even Sam could muster. 

Ever since the Stines invaded and killed Charlie, Y/N was thinking about her feelings for Dean. She called him immediately when they broke the door down and he’s the one who instructed her to hide in the garage; it was a plan the two agreed on for these situations. While she was hiding in the trunk of one of the vintage vehicles, all she could think about was that she could die and never be able to tell Dean how she felt. She decided then that she’d tell him, and soon. That’s why she was so upset that he left without telling her, it just prolonged her getting everything out in the open.

While the two waited in the bunker for Dean’s return, Dean handled the witch with ease. She tried at the last minute to hit him with what he assumed was a spell of sorts, but the witch killing bullet was in her before she could finish the incantation. He felt better, the Mark’s hunger was satiated, and there was one less witch causing trouble. A win all around, in his book.

Y/N was sitting in the library researching when the bunker door opened three days later. She was trying to keep the hurt and the anger at bay, still upset that Dean was ignoring her for reasons she couldn’t figure out while she was ready to tell him how she felt. Sam was out grabbing dinner, she assumed it was him.

“That was fast,” she remarked, getting up to help him unpack, until she was face to face with Dean. “Oh, not Sam. Welcome home.” She moved to greet him with a hug, only for him to step back out of her reach. Her face fell, Dean never rejected her touch, even with the Mark. “Dean?”

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, “I hate it when you throw yourself at me like that.”

“You…what? Since when?”

“Since forever. Just shows how clingy you are.”

Y/N stared in shock before letting her eyes cast to the floor, the heat in her cheeks so warm coupled with his venomous glare that she was growing physically uncomfortable before him. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t realize…I thought we…I thought you and I…“

“What? You thought there was something here?” Dean motioned between the two of them. “Far from it.” He looked her over, his eyes running over her figure. “You think I’d ever want you?”

“I…I thought m-maybe…”

“Well I don’t. I don’t even want you here.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered, knowing if she was really that unwelcome, he’d have no problem kicking her out.

“True? You want the truth? Oh, sweetheart, you can’t handle the truth. But I’ll give it to you. Don’t you think if I wanted you, I’d have done something by now? You’re just another burden that was dumped on me that I didn’t ask for.” He paused, circling the war table, Y/N visibly shaking before him as she tried to keep herself composed, though it was obvious she was already broken at his words. “You’re always in the way, you know? You’re one more person I have to protect on hunts, since you’re not exactly reliable these days. Maybe if you were in shape you’d be less of a liability, then I wouldn’t have to constantly be saving your sorry ass-“

“Dean!” Sam barked, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Y/N hadn’t even heard him come in, the blood was pounding in her ears as she fought back tears, refusing to cry in front of Dean for fear he’d throw that in her face, too. He already implied she was fat, using her biggest insecurity against her, she didn’t need him throwing another one her way.

“What? I’m just saying,” Dean shrugged.

“You don’t just say that,” Sam glared before shooting a knowing look to Y/N, nodding his head towards the kitchen. She took the hint and all but ran out of the room. “What the hell could she have said to make you say that to her? She didn’t do anything to you.”

“She’s just annoying, another mouth to feed, a cockblock at the bar. We don’t need her here bringing us down. I wish she’d just leave.”

“Do you even hear yourself? That’s Y/N. She’s done more for us than anyone else has. She takes care of us when we’re sick and hurt, she puts up with our shit, specifically all of your shit and you…what the fuck Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes, picking up his bags and turning to leave the room. Sam watched in disbelief before joining Y/N in the kitchen finding her with her head in her hands at the table. “Hey, hey, shhhh,” he whispered, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his arms. She sobbed harshly into his flannel. 

“He h-hates me,” she cried, the words muffled against his shirt. Sam shook his head, furious with his brother.

“He doesn’t, he couldn’t.” He rubbed her back soothingly, gently rocking her from side to side. “That wasn’t my brother.”

“I…I d-don’t understand,” she whimpered, sniffling.

“What exactly happened? Can you tell me?”

Y/N sat up slightly, wiping the tears off her cheeks and taking a deep breath to steady herself. “I thought he was you, I said hello, went to hug him. He backed up and when I tried to see what was wrong, he just started in on me.” She looked down. “I was finally ready to tell him, Sam.”

His eyes widened, knowing exactly what she meant. “Oh fuck no,” he muttered, pulling her back into his embrace. “Something must’ve happened while he was gone…but even then he had no right to talk to you like that. For everything that he’s been through, even with the Mark, he’d never, ever, talk to you like that. If it was anyone else, they’d be dead. If he could’ve heard himself…“ Sam stopped, shaking his head in anger. “Something’s not right.”

“Am…am I clingy, Sam?” Y/N asked quietly, Dean’s words echoing in her head.

“God, no, Y/N. You’re not. A few hugs and cuddles here and there doesn’t make you clingy.” Sam smiled sadly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You are one of the best things to happen to Dean and me. You look after us, keep this place running, you help with hunts and research. You’re incredibly important to us and you’re a part of this little family, regardless of what my brother said. I love you, he loves you…hell, the real him adores you. You’re the little sister I always wanted, I always want you around. You’re not a cockblock or another mouth to feed and you certainly don’t bring us down. You build us up and help us keep going, every day. And before you say anything, no, there is nothing physically wrong with you, so please don’t get back into that headspace. You’re doing so well, don’t let this bring you back into that dark place. I’ll talk to him.”

Y/N smiled weakly, eyes brimming over with tears at Sam’s reassurance. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. “How about you go take a bath and relax a bit while I try to figure out what’s going on, okay?”

She nodded and he squeezed her in another hug before letting her go, watching her leave the kitchen and make her way towards her room, which was unfortunately next to Dean’s. Y/N tiptoed passed his room, terrified of doing anything to set him off on her again. Once in the safety of her bedroom, she gathered her comfiest pajamas, slippers, and her favorite bath soap to bring to the bathroom. She set those items aside, rummaging for her duffle. She didn’t like being so close to Dean after what happened, so she decided to throw her necessities and some clothes into the bag, topping it with her favorite pillow and blanket. She knew the bedroom next to Sam’s was empty, for now she’d make that her room until she felt comfortable being around the older hunter again.

On the way to the bathroom, Y/N dropped her bag, blanket and pillow into the spare room, closing the door behind her before heading into the private, smaller bathroom in the bunker. She turned the water on in the tub, adjusting the temperature before plugging the drain and adding her bath soap before shedding her clothes and sinking into the water below the bubbles.

Down the hall and a few twists and turns away, Sam was making his way to Dean’s room, having already sent a quick prayer to Castiel in hopes he could help him figure out what was wrong with his brother. 

“Sam,” Castiel greeted with a flutter of his wings, “what’s going on?”

Sam sighed heavily. “Something’s wrong with Dean, I don’t know what but the way he just lashed out at Y/N tells me it’s bad.” They stopped outside Dean’s door, Sam knocking hard three times before opening the door, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

“Get out,” Dean growled, ripping his headphones off his ears. 

“Not until you tell me what happened when you were gone to make you come back a grade A douchebag,” Sam shot back.

“Nothing happened, now get out.”

“Dean, you’re not yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Dean glared, his eyes on Castiel. 

“The Dean I know never would’ve said what he did to Y/N, so that’s bullshit,” Sam argued.

“She had it coming,” he shrugged. Sam’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared with anger. “Oh, calm down.”

“You know what Dean? Maybe you should leave for a while,” Sam started, advancing towards Dean, “sort your shit out.”

Dean rose from his bed, glowering at his little brother. “You’re really gonna kick me out? For her?”

Before Sam could respond, Castiel took the opportunity to move around Sam, placing his fingers to Dean’s forehead to see if he could use his grace to identify the problem. “He’s under a spell.”

“A spell? What kind of spell?” Sam asked, looking between the angel and the thoroughly pissed off hunter.

“I’m not sure, but it’s there, clinging to him.” Castiel pressed his fingers to Dean’s forehead again to try and ease him a bit to get him to cooperate better. Dean sat back down on his bed, a little more relaxed.

“Dean, you have to tell me what happened when you were gone,” Sam pleaded.

“I was on a hunt, it was a witch.”

“Do you remember anything that she said?”

“She was chanting something but I killed her before she could finish.”

“Or maybe you didn’t,” Sam sighed. “I’ll call Rowena, see if she can maybe give use insight as to what kind of spell the witch used.” He pulled out his phone before looking at his brother again. “You stay the hell away from Y/N, got it? You’ve done enough damage.”

“I’ll watch him,” Castiel offered, Sam nodding in agreement before shooting his brother one last look and heading to the library, dialing Rowena’s number.

“Samuel,” she answered.

“Rowena, I need your help.”

“You seem to be needing a lot of that lately, Samuel. And yet you’ve done nothing for me in return.”

“I’m working on it,” he responded curtly, “the quicker you get to the bunker, the faster I finish the deal. It’s about Y/N.”

The witch sighed, having developed a soft spot for the girl. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there soon.”

After her bath, Sam informed Y/N that Rowena was coming and that there was some sort of spell involved. Y/N cringed at his brother’s name, her body tensing. Sam explained that he knew the spell wasn’t an excuse for what Dean said to her, but it helped piece a few things together. Y/N just wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at the hunter the same way again.

Until Rowena arrived, Y/N stayed in her new bedroom, locked away from everyone but Sam. He brought her meals, knowing she wasn’t up to wandering the bunker halls and risking the chance of running into Dean. As strong as he knew she was, even he didn’t think she’d be able to handle another run-in with the older hunter. 

Two days later, Rowena made her way down the steps of the bunker. Sam did his best to fill her in on what little information he got from Dean, which was a terrible pronunciation of whatever the young witch chanted at him, plus the crap attitude he’d been exhibiting ever since, including what he said to Y/N.

“But here’s the thing, I know my brother and I know how he feels about her, and it’s…it’s like everything he said to her is the exact opposite of what he’s ever said to me about her. He’s said some pretty fucked up things in his life, even to me, but to her? He’d never. It doesn’t make sense, he said the witch didn’t even finish the spell.”

“Perhaps your brother changed his mind.”

“Rowena, no. Cas was able to detect the remnants of a spell that seems to be stuck to him. That’s why I need your help, I don’t know what spell it could be.”

“Your brother, he possesses the Mark of Cain, correct?” Sam nodded. “Then whatever spell she cast…the Mark in a way protects the person who bears it. The person can’t die, as you know. In this case, it sounds like the Mark warped the spell that was thrown at Dean and it’s now sticking to him instead of wearing off like it normally would after a few days.”

“But what kind of spell? A truth spell wouldn’t make him say all that…”

“No, but the Mark could twist a truth spell into making him lie, instead. Do you know anything about the witch?”

“She was casting truth spells and tearing couples apart around town,” Dean answered, making his presence known as he entered the war room. “She was angry that her husband had an affair and she took it out on everyone else.”

Sam groaned. “So that’s it. It was a truth spell but the Mark made you lie instead of actually tell the truth.”

Rowena rolled her eyes, “and turned you into quite the dick.” Dean shot a glare at the red-head, ready to bark a nasty reply when Sam stepped between the two.

“You don’t speak unless we ask you to,” he ordered, staring down his brother. Dean’s eyes widened before he cocked a brow, smirking.

“You don’t think there’s more I could say to you this time?”

“I don’t care what you say to me, I know it isn’t you. But Y/N? She’s off limits.”

“Too late for that-“

“ENOUGH,” Rowena yelled, both hunters jumping in surprise, “now, Samuel, you can fetch me these ingredients and Dean, well, you can sit down and keep your mouth shut.”

As Sam went to the storage room to gather the ingredients needed for the spell to reverse the one stuck to Dean, Rowena followed him to Y/N’s makeshift room, knocking on the door. 

“Go away,” Y/N answered pitifully.

“Someone’s here to see you, honey,” Sam answered, “its safe, I promise.” He unlocked her door and left her and Rowena alone while he went to find her supplies. Y/N sat up on her bed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the witch.

“Hi,” she smiled weakly, moving over on her bed to make room for the witch.

“Oh darlin’, Auntie Rowena will fix it,” she soothed, sitting at the foot of the bed. “You see, Dean was hit with a truth spell, but because he bears the Mark, the spell backfired and made him lie instead. Sam’s fetching me the ingredients I need for a reversal to get rid of the spell that’s clinging to him because of the Mark.”

“So…all the things he said…”

“I’m guessing whatever he wanted to say, he said the opposite. Apparently the witch was cheated on by her husband and due to her anger she took it out on everyone, especially men, and cursed them to tell the truth. But in Dean’s case, he was cursed to lie.”

“And be a douche,” Y/N muttered. “He said some awful things, Ro.”

“The man’s not exactly kind on a good day if you’re on his bad side,” Rowena noted. “I’ll fix him. He’s going to remember everything and run in here and apologize, you’ll see.”

“I’m not sure I can look at him, I mean, he was so cold…so brutal. If I look at him that’s all I’ll see.”

“I think once he realizes what he said and how badly he hurt you, you’ll see a side of him you’ve never seen before. Dean’s very protective of you, we all know it, so once he realizes he’s the one who hurt you, he’s gonna be devastated. You just have to remember, it wasn’t him.”

Y/N nodded, though still apprehensive. Rowena smiled warmly, patting her legs before leaving the room to see if Sam found everything. Y/N curled back up under the covers, thinking about what Rowena said. Knowing that a spell made him say those things made her feel the smallest bit better, but it was still replaying in her head since it happened. She could still see Dean’s look of disgust and hear the hatred dripping off his tongue. The idea of facing him, even after he was cured of this spell, still terrified her.

In the library, Dean was sitting at one of the tables nursing his whiskey while Rowena and Sam worked on the spell. Cas was on standby, ready to intervene if Dean got out of hand somehow and also to see if the lingering spell faded. 

Minutes later, Rowena was chanting the incantation for the reversal, Sam and Cas on either side of Dean as a precaution. A beat passed before Dean’s stoic expression faded and his eyes glowed green. Rowena sighed with relief and Cas pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, nodding. The spell worked, Dean was back to normal.

And oh, what a crash it was.

Dean blinked a few times, looking around at their worried faces as he registered what had happened. When he realized who was missing in the room, his eyes widened as it all came flooding back like a movie scene in his head. 

“Where is she?” He choked, a wave of panic washing over him as he realized the magnitude of what he said to her.

“You remember?” Dean looked at Sam, shame and regret on his face.

“Everything.”

“She’s in the room next to mine, just go easy on her, Dean. You really did a number on her.” Dean nodded, hastily leaving the library and racing down the bunker halls until he got to the room Y/N was in. He took a deep breath before knocking softly.

“Come in,” she called, voice quiet. Dean turned the knob slowly, opening the door to find her curled up on the bed. The blatant fear on her face didn’t go unnoticed by Dean, the grimace leaving a sharp pain in his chest.

“Sweetheart,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “we need to talk.”

“I think you’ve said enough,” she answered, less bite in her reply than she would have liked.

“That…that wasn’t me, you know I’d never-“

“I thought I did, Dean. But that…even with a spell…,” She looked away from him, shaking her head. Dean’s face fell, eyes filling with tears. He really fucked up and it wasn’t even his fault this time.

“Y/N, I swear on Sam’s life, I didn’t mean a single word that I said to you that night. That wasn’t me talking, that was the spell. It’s like everything I wanted to say to you came out the complete opposite, the Mark completely took over and I’m so fucking sorry.” Dean paused, slowly making his way to her bed. When she didn’t object, he sat down by her feet.

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me,” he begged. Y/N looked up from the spot she was fixated on on the floor, her eyes meeting his teary ones. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, you are perfect exactly the way you are. I wouldn’t be able to go on day after day without you supporting me. You aren’t a burden and I never want you to leave even though I think you deserve better than this life. Selfishly, I can’t let you go. You make this place feel like a home and I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re not clingy…you mean so much to me, Y/N. I can’t tell you how sorry I am and how much I hate that I’ve hurt you. I’m supposed to protect you and you’re…you’re scared of me.”

“You looked at me with such hate,” she whispered, cringing. “I can’t unsee it no matter how hard I try.”

“Sweetheart, I could never hate you,” Dean breathed, “not when I’m too busy loving you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You…what?”

“When I got back that night you said you thought there was something between us and I told you there wasn’t because of the spell’s influence. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve agreed with you. There’s always been a different connection between you and I. I don’t see you as a little sister the way Sam does. I know what I said, but Y/N, how could I not want you?”

Y/N blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “Uh, well, for starters, look at me.”

“I’m always looking at you. I think you’re beautiful exactly the way you are. You take care of me, you put up with my shit, and you’re my best friend. I can’t see myself with anyone else.”

“Dean…I-“

“You don’t have to say it back. I put you through hell, I don’t expect you to feel that way about me anymore.”

“No, I do, and that’s been the hardest part.”

Dean smiled sadly, reaching out to cup her cheek. “If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life, however long that is, proving to you that I mean everything I just said.”

“It wasn’t you,” she whispered, “you don’t have to.”

“But I’ll do it if it means you’ll forgive me.” He wiped a few stray tears off her cheek, his thumb grazing her cheekbone. “Can I hold you?” He asked meekly, biting his lip. She nodded into his palm before getting scooped up in a hug, her face buried in his neck as Dean finally broke, tears landing in her hair. “I’m so sorry,” he cried, squeezing her to him.

“Dean,” she mumbled, her lips against his skin sending shivers down his spine. “Please don’t cry.” She rubbed his back softly, trying to soothe him. She didn’t expect this. 

“I hate this thing so much,” he muttered, her eyes casting down to his forearm where the Mark was hidden by his henley sleeve. “All it does is make me angry and it’s getting harder and harder to control it, especially after…”

“I know,” she nodded, knowing he meant Charlie and the Stines. “That whole thing…that’s what made me want to tell you how I felt about you. Waiting for you in the trunk of the car felt like an eternity and I knew I would be okay as long as you got to me. I always feel safe when I’m with you, Dean, always. But I was so scared that they’d find me first and I’d die before getting to tell you. You were so angry and it felt wrong to tell you right after we lost Charlie, but I gathered the little confidence I had while you were gone-“

“And then I came home under a spell and said what I said.” Dean sighed, his grip tightening on her. “When you called me and told me the Stines broke in, Y/N, I’ve been in awful situations like that before with Sam but this…this felt so different. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, not until I saw you and knew you were okay. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion, no matter how fast I drove.” Y/N shuddered at the memory, digging herself deeper into Dean’s chest, face pressed against his neck. She inhaled deeply, relaxing as his scent that can only be described as Dean calmed her senses. “You’re okay, you’re safe,” he whispered, kissing her hair. He laid them down on her bed, tucking her under his chin.

“Dean,” she whispered, fisting his henley. 

“Yeah baby?”

“I do love you, you know.” She could feel the chuckle rumble through his chest.

“I maybe had a small feeling, or at least hoped I was reading everything right.” He ran his fingers through her hair gently, breathing in her shampoo. “Will you give me a chance to make it all up to you?”

She pulled back to look up at him, cupping his cheek. He nuzzled against her palm, eyes locked on hers as his stubble tickled her skin. “Of course, handsome.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to her palm as she blushed. She couldn’t stay mad at Dean, never was able to. But knowing how he truly felt about her, that everything that happened was the work of a witch, she knew she couldn’t hold a grudge. That wasn’t her Dean, the man who sang her back to sleep when her nightmares took over even though he hated singing to anyone but Baby’s steering wheel. The man looking at her so intently, holding her so tightly, this was her Dean. “And Dean?” 

“Sweetheart?”

“I forgive you,” she smiled, Dean’s eyes softening as he let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling her impossibly closer. He kissed her forehead and her nose before softly kissing her lips, pulling back and brushing his nose against hers. Dean knew what happened wasn’t his fault, and Y/N may have forgiven him anyway, but he fully intended on spending the rest of his life, however long it may be, making sure she knew just how much he loved her, and doing his very best to deserve someone as incredible as her.

[elles-writing]

Dragon Heart - IV.

Taglist: @guardianofrivendell @anjhope1 @legolasoftherings @kumqu4t @grunid @elvish-sky @artsywaterlily @alexloveskili

If you want to be added to tag list, send me a message or comment please.

Warnings/triggers: -

She looked over at Bilbo, who was stirring, and decided it would be a good idea to prepare him a cup of warm tea with some honey and milk. Y/N remembered Bilbo loved this as a child.

So, her next steps took her to the hobbit's kitchen.

Before she stepped inside, Y/N noticed one - perhaps from the older ones - dwarf, who prepared a steaming cup of tea already.

The dwarf didn't seemed to trust her - of course - but his eyes little softened, because she knew Gandalf and Bilbo.

"What tea is that?" Y/N asked instead, genuiely interested.

"Charmomile, for Master Baggins." Y/N hummed and the dwarf quickly left the little hobbit kitchen. You looked around, more concentrated this time. Then, you looked over the hall, pantry, and living room, where was Bilbo, Gandalf and some of the dwarves.

Baggins', now Bilbo's house, has never been un-practical. Maybe for Y/N by it's size, but other than that, there was everything one would need for life.

When Bilbo catched her eyes, Y/N could clearly see he was uncomfortable, upset and absolutely, absolutely done with the subject.

The dwarves.

But most importantly...

Gandalf.

You shrugged, and decided to leave him his burglar-not-burglar game. Bilbo would not be patient forever, but he was mannered and clever enough to know what to do. You were sure the hobbit would feel his Took side with desire for an adventure again.

And take his chance to escape Sackville-Baginses.

As you walked around, you noticed some of the pictures. They seemed to be new - or at least you didn't remembered them.

You walked closer, and stepped on something. You looked down, and noticed it was a dagger. You've never seen the design before, but assumed it must be one of the dwarves'. You picked it up and studied it, when you overheard a voice next to you.

"Careful with this, it's been just sharpened." You turned to see a blonde, blue-eyed dwarf, with braided moustache. He seemed to have the same twinkle in his eyes as Kili.

"I can handle sharp things," Y/N said and looked back at the knife.

"It's nice. Not too light, but not as heavy either." Y/N was thinking aloud. She completely forgot the dwarf next to her, as she studied the dagger.

"You know Master Baggins," He suddenly said. Y/N turned to him.

What the-did he just-

"I do," You nodded, and placed the dagger to his hand.

What the-no, he just didn't-

"You don't look like you are related," he continued.

"That's because we aren't." You ended the topic. Instead, it was your time to ask.

"Who are you?"

"Fili, at your service m'lady," he gently took your hand and kissed the back of your hand, his eyes not leaving yours.

"Y/N, at yours...Fili," You said.

"Oh, Y/N, can I-can I talk to you, for a second?" Bilbo came and you gladly walked aside with him, while Fili send you a wink.

"Bilbo, to answer some of your questions - no, I didn't knew-"

"I'm not talking about the, the dwarves," Bilbo looked over the room with frown on his face.

"Then what is it, my little friend?" You said quietly in attempt to brighten up the situation. Bilbo was almost adorable with frowned pouty face, hands folded on his chest, patting the floor with his foot...only if you could stand straight in his house. Your back thought the size of his house was not adorable at all.

"Well, um...did Gandalf told you to bring them along?" You looked at him with scrunched face, and rolled your eyes.

"I wouldn't be coming if I knew there were dwarves involved. So, if anything, I share your unpopular opinion." And ruffled his hair. He jumped up.

"I'm not a little hobbit anymore, you don't have to do this," Bilbo said through gritted teeth, and you grinned.

"Well, you still are kind of little," You teased him futher, until a dwarf with sharp blue eyes, long, dark hair, and the biggest grumpy and pouty face you've ever seen (not even Bilbo could do that, when he was angy little hobbit).

That dwarf shot you a glare, and also to Bilbo, who was taken aside by him and Gandalf, again.

You felt sorry for Bilbo.

When he was free, you overheard him muttering something about 'surely not going', 'not going anywhere', 'wizards', and so on. You decided to go to sleep, because all of the dwarves were asleep already, and you needed to be up early.

You woken up quickly. The first thing you've heard was the snoring. You scrunched your face, and quickly packed your things. Then, you walked out of Bag End, and decided to wait for them there.

The sunrise was nice time, especially to prepare your horse for the day.

"Shh," you cooed her quietly. It was beautiful mare, tall, and very, very clever.

"It will be okay. We will find dad, and we will go away, to live far away...everything is going to be just fine," You muttered.

"You ready?" Kili stood next to you with a grin on his face. You jumped up a little.

"I am." You said, and noticed Kili's expression as he looked at your horse. You let out a laugh.

"You've never seen a horse before?" Kili walked back a little.

"Not really," he said and you noticed his blushed cheeks.

"Kili!" You both looked over to Fili, standing between two ponies, who called him.

-

"Do you think Bilbo will come?" Kili asked you.

"That hobbit won't show up," Balin said. He was on his pony next to Kili, so he thought he talked to him.

"It's no surprise. Why would Master Baggins leave his home," Thorin (as was the grumpy dwarf named) said.

"I wouldn't understimate hobbits, and especially not Master Baggins," Gandalf said as he smoked his pipe.

"I am sure he is going to come," He said.

And that's when the bet started.

-

It wasn't even five minutes after you left Shire, when you overheard Bilbo's voice in the distance.

"Waaait!"

You looked over to Gandalf, who was hiding a laugh.

"You planned this?" You quietly asked and motioned to the hobbit, who was breathing heavily.

"Well, perhaps," he said, and you scoffed a little and shook your head, as the dwarves seated Bilbo on his pony.

-

The day was beautiful. It was actually quite warm, just warm so you could put down your cloak.

As the evening was approaching, and the sun was setting into palette of gold and velvet, and the sky was getting darker, Thorin decided it was time to set up camp. After a quick argument with Gandalf, the wizard left to seek company of himself. So, there was nothing easier, than to just finding the best place to place your bedroll.

You, Fili and Kili were on first watch. You laid down on your bedroll, and watched the stars. It was cloudless night, plus the crackling sound of fire, and smell of fresh night air was relaxing.

Bilbo was just coming back from his pony, when a sound in distance made him freeze.

"W-what was that?" He pointed to the distance, while looking at Kili.

"Orcs," he said in low, deep voice. You sat up. Bilbo had a part of Took in himself, but he was not that much of a Took.

"There is going to be plenty of those," Fili said, and, obviously, Kili continued.

"They come at night, no screams, just lots of blood," He looked at Bilbo, and the shadows in his face, along with his deep and low voice made it come out horribly scary. Him and Fili started chuckling, but you sighed.

"The way you two snore would make them run for hills, so I wouldn't be that worried," You said, and noticed Bilbo to relax by the corner of your eye.

Kili looked over at you. You pulled out book from your pack. He quickly recognized it, even in the darkness of the night. It was that book you flipped through back in Bag End.

You sat comfortably down, and looked over the illustrations on the pages, and softly touched them.

"What is the book you are reading about, lassie?" Balin asked. You didn't looked up.

"It's a book with tales and stories my...father wrote down," you answered.

"He used to read them to me," you shrugged.

"Would you read some of them-ow, what was that for?!" Kili whisper-yelled at his brother, who chuckled.

"You're a child, Kee," He muttered to himself, and Kili pouted. But Fili was curious as well, which Kili didn't needed to know.

"Well...this one," You flipped a few pages futher.

"This one is called Strange thief and the stars," Y/N comfortably sat and started reading.

"There was once a man. He wasn't very known by name, but by his eyes. His eyes, deep and dark, with sparkles, reminding of stars. Nobody has ever seen eyes like this before, and people were whispering he has stars themselves in his eyes," You slid the tips of your fingers over the drawing, remembering the precision your father has made into repairing them.

"Many women tried to grab his attention, but anytime they didn't sucsceeded, the sparks in their eyes were less visible, but in his as well. And that is why men has decided to call him 'the thief of stars', or a 'strange thief of stars'. He was wandering through the lands, until he found what, as he realized, was looking for,"

"What happened next?" Bilbo asked.

"That girl didn't want to talk to him. She was very kind and caring, but not naive. One day, however, she found a dragon. Big dragon, who seemed scary, but saved her from orcs. The beast's eyes reminded her of someone, yet she didn't knew of whom." You realized everyone was quiet, listening to you, as you spoken.

"The next day, she met the man. He runned into her, in a rush, in a fear - and asked her "Did you see the dragon too?". The young maiden nodded, and helped him to get to safety, as he was very nervous and scared. Since that day, they became closer and closer. One day, when a few years passed, her father - an old, wise and kind man - said, his daughter will marry someone, who gives her something very special. The young man came the next day in their house they lived in. He said," you flipped the page.

" 'I do not have much to offer - gold, silver, or gems - but I do have this," he took out a notebook out of his coat, and offered it. The girl's father took the notebook, and opened it. It was full of drawings of flowers, animals and people - but mainly of one special maiden, when she was laughing, collecting flowers, brushing her hair, cooking, reading...When she came there, and looked throught the book, her father looked at her, and she nodded. So, he looked deeply into the young man's eyes, and said 'She chose you.' "

You finished the story, and Kili giggled at how interested his brother was.

"Now who's the child here,"

[plant-flwrs]

i just read house unity and i am in tears!! it's so beautifully written, you must be an author bc that is pure TALENT 😭✨ if you don't mind can i request george x soft hufflepuff reader? she's kinda pure and george is like ily let's be together. thx!!

budding romance // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: um UR TOO NICE!!! thank you so much!!! I do not mind in the slightest, so I hope you like it hehe! um i also love hufflepuffs so much they are like the best house (coming from a ravenclaw) my sister is a hufflepuff and like three of my good friends are hufflepuffs so y’all are the best and i have a major soft spot for u. 

i’ve always found something about botany and plants incredibly romantic, so if this just sounds like a fanfiction for plants, you know why lol. I also made George a bit soft in this so i hope you don’t mind that either <3 n e ways, i hope you enjoy this! thanks for requesting! also sorry this took so long :( i had a bit of a hard time finding a solid idea but i think it worked out :) like, reblog, or leave any feedback if you’d like!

summary: George needs a tutor for Herbology, but has no plans on learning.

(3k)

--------

The back of your neck was particularly warm, and you hadn’t decided if it was because of the blazing sun shining through the Herbology classroom glass ceiling, or the fact that George Weasley was staring at the back of your head.

Your delicate fingers traced the back of the Dittany plant, feeling the bumps and lines of the veins that trailed to the stem. You wrote down some observations in your worn notebook, before glancing back at the plant. You picked up a pair of garden scissors, prepared to cut the plant at the stem.

“George Weasley is looking over here,” your friend whispered to you, casting a glance over her shoulder.

“I know, he does it often,” you replied, using a pair of tweezers to pull apart the Dittany.

“Do you think he needs something?” she asked, returning back to her own plant.

“I just figured he was copying what I was doing,” you wiped a bit of moisture off of your hand and onto your apron, taking the opportunity to look over your shoulder.

George’s eyes met yours, and his face flushed with an embarrassed blush. You offered him a kind smile, your eyes falling down to his mangled Dittany plant. You looked back up to his eyes, this time sympathetically smiling at him.

You returned to your own plant, jotting down a few more notes in the stained journal next to you.

Herbology was a strong suit of yours, you had always found it relaxing and simple. The plants offered so much to people, and all you had to do was understand how to care for them properly.

After your eventual dismissal, you rubbed the back of your neck and felt a sunburn, cursing yourself for not bringing some sort of sunscreen in your bag.

You heard an awkward cough from behind you, followed by a weak “hello”. You turned to face the noise and was a little surprised to see the tall redhead it came from.

“Hello,” you said kindly, closing your bag.

“Hi,” he repeated, and you waited for him to continue.

An awkward amount of time passed before he realized he had already said hello.

“Oh, right, um” he coughed again, clearing his throat, “well, I just wanted to introduce myself.”

He paused, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“I know who you are, George,” you replied before he had the chance, smiling at his sentiment, “we’ve gone to school together for 6 years.”

“Yeah, I just usually say it formally,” he retracted his hand after he held onto yours for what he felt was too long, “you know, with an identical brother and all.”

You nodded your head, still smiling at the nervous boy.

“Well, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hands gripping the leather straps of his bag nervously.

“In addition to the introduction?” you said, trying to make him less nervous.

He laughed lightly, shifting from one leg to the other.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, finding it impossible to wipe the smile off your face.

“I was wondering, since you seem so good at it, if you would help me out in Herbology?” he spoke fast, and you nearly missed what he said.

“Oh,” you were surprised by his question. He and his brother had a bit of a reputation at this school, and tutoring didn’t seem to align with it.

“I get if you can’t or something, I know you must be busy with your own studies,” he began, but you waved your hands, cutting him off.

“No, no, I don’t mind,” your smile widened as he let out a relieved breath of air, his chest deflating.

“So you’ll tutor me?” he asked, a crooked smile dawning upon his lips.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” you replied easily, nodding your head.

There were many reasons not to tutor George, you found later. For one, you fell in love with him. Not that you could be blamed, he was incredibly charming and adorable. The other reason was that he actually had very little interest in the plants, and his efforts seemed more geared towards you.

You had asked Professor Sprout if you and George could meet in the Herbology room every Wednesday after her classes. She was skeptical, but she trusted you and allowed you access as long as you promised to keep George in line.

This particular Wednesday seemed no different than the others, besides the growing crush you had formed on George. You waited for him at a stool by the door, a textbook open in front of you, along with your Herbology journal, a few quills, your apron, your gardening equipment, and a dying Dittany plant you planned on showing George how to save. You had been waiting for a while, but George was usually late. You had pulled some Arithmancy homework from your bag and worked on it in the meantime.

“Sorry!” George burst through the door of the greenhouse, a book falling from his fumbling hands, “Sorry, I got caught up with Fred, I’m sorry I’m late.”

More and more apologies flooded from his mouth, like they did most days, as he made his way to the stool next to you.

“It’s alright,” you put away your homework and pulled your textbook to rest on the table between the two of you.

You stood from your stool and began putting on your apron, and moved over to the cabinet with the spare aprons. You got one for George and his hands fumbled behind his back, his focus on you. He watched the side of your face as you peered into the textbook, your fingers tracing the words as you read. You lightly tapped it, pointing it out to George.

“We’ll start here,” you said, sitting back down in your stool.

Your wand hovered over a watering jug on the table, and you cast the Aguamenti charm. Water poured from your wand, filling the jug.

George watched you, nervously turning his fingers over in his lap. He glanced down, noticing the habit, and smoothed his hands over his legs. He brought his hands to his hair and raked them through the red locks, rolling his shoulders back, trying to relax in your presence. He never was able to, and he knew this, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

George couldn’t care any less than he already did about Herbology. He thought it was boring and useless. Not many of his pranks required extensive knowledge about plants, and when they did, the plants were already in use. But, when he saw you from across the room, your glasses teetering on the edge of your nose, your fingers tracing over the lettering in the textbook, hair falling into your face, and that wonderfully sweet smile etched onto your beautiful face, he had to talk to you.

It took him a week or two of staring at the back of your head before you even noticed him. The first time that beautiful smile was for him, he could only think of you for the rest of the day. Fred was tired of it, honestly, George was desperately infatuated with you. George had worked up the tutoring plan with Fred, with the promise that he wouldn’t actually study anything. “We have a reputation to uphold, Georgie!”

“Okay,” your sweet voice pulled George from his thoughts, and his eyes flickered from your face to your hands on the book, “so this is a Dittany.”

Your hands moved from the book to the dying plant. Its previously green leaves were now brown and wilting. Your fingertips moved over the delicate leaves, to the stems, and you raked your fingers through the dry dirt.

George leaned forward on the table, putting his chin to rest in his palm. He listened to you talk about the plant, describing just about everything there was to know. He wondered how you knew all of this from memory, and admired you even more than he thought possible.

You reached over the table to grab the garden scissors, but they were just out of your grasp. George leaned forwards and picked them up, turning them to you. You hadn’t retracted your hand, so when he pulled them from the table, they slid open and you felt a sharp pain on your fingertip.

You pulled your hand away and nursed it in your lap. A red stain appeared on your apron, and soon it spread as your fingertip was flowing with blood. You heard the scissors clatter on the table and George turned to you, already spouting apologies.

“Shit!” he cursed, his body turning towards you and he slouched to become eye level with you in your seat, “I’m so sorry!”

You whimpered involuntarily, bringing your finger to your mouth to suck away some of the blood. You removed your finger and wiped it on your apron, only for the blood to continue flowing.

George was panicking, he felt absolutely awful.

“Can I see it?” you looked up to see his creased brow and guilt- flooded eyes.

You swallowed hard and nodded, offering him your hand timidly.

He gently placed his hands over yours, they were so large they nearly covered them completely. His hands were warm and calloused on the palms from years of gripping his Beater bat. He brought your hand to him, holding it close to his chest as he looked at the small cut.

“I am so sorry,” he repeated, and he rubbed his thumb soothingly on our palm.

He pulled out his wand and looked at you for wordless permission, which you granted him curiously. He hovered over your finger and mumbled a spell you hadn’t heard before. The broken skin on your finger began to mend together, and the stinging had been replaced with an odd numbness. There was still the remains of blood, but George brought his apron to your finger and wiped it away. He still held your hand, looking at your face.

“How did you know that spell?” you asked, surprised when your voice came out as a whisper.

“You learn a lot when you have siblings like mine,” George responded in a whisper, looking at you sheepishly.

His hand was tightening around yours, and his palm rested against the back of your hand. You wrapped your fingers around his thumb, squeezing it lightly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

George’s eyes flickered down to your lips, and it was so fast you had thought you might have imagined it. Your eyes moved to his lips, noticing that his bottom lip was trapped between his teeth.

“Well, it’s the least I could do,” he responded coolly, dropping your hand back into your lap and straightening his tie as if it had become too tight.

You looked down at your aprons, each stained with small drops of your blood.

“Ew,” you said, trying to wipe off the dried red stain, “Sprout will kill me!”

Pulling his wand back out, he placed it on the table.

“Here,” he moved close to you and wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened, breathing in deeply as his mouth was inches away from your ear. You felt him fumbling with the bow that tied your apron, and his hands grazed your lower back.

Soon the bow was untied, and George hovered for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smile as he smelled your wonderful perfume.

Your apron became lose and he pulled back, his hands moving to your neck as he pulled it off. He did the same with his own and laid them both on the table.

“Tergeo,” he said, pointing his wand at the aprons.

Your apron was as good as new, and so was his, all the dirt and blood removed from the cloth.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the moment of intimacy from your brain. You forced a smile at him, thanking him as you took the apron from him.

“You’re a much better student than you let on, George,” you said, holding the apron loosely in your lap.

He made a scoffing noise, but a genuine and flushed smile fell on his face.

Neither of you felt inclined to nurse a dead plant back to life, in fact, you had no idea what to do. George just stared at you, as if he were waiting for something.

“Um-” George spoke at the same time as you, and you closed your lips.

“No, you go ahead,” he said, bowing his head to you slightly.

You laughed and insisted that you weren’t going to say anything important.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to take a walk around the grounds,” he said, already standing from his stool, “it’s awfully warm in here.”

George was right, the greenhouses seemed to be particularly warm. You thought some fresh air would be nice.

“Not very interested in the Dittany?” you teased, standing from your stool and moving to clear the table.

“Oh no!” George said nervously, hoping he didn’t offend you, “No, its wonderful-”

“I’m only teasing George, I know Herbology can be boring,” you smiled at him and laughed to yourself when you saw him visibly relax.

He was always so nervous around you, no matter how hard you tried to make him comfortable.

The two of you put away all the supplies, cleaning the table off for Professor Sprout. You had used the water left in the watering jug on any dry looking plants. George watched you going around the greenhouse, the sunshine making you seem like you were glowing. You held your hair behind your shoulder, peering into each pot.

“Alright,” you dusted your hands and tucked away your apron, “let’s go.”

George held the door open for you, and you ducked beneath his outstretched arm as you crossed the threshold. You followed his lead as he led you down a hallway.

“So you like Herbology a lot, right?” George asked you, casting a glance down at your side profile.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied.

“There’s a boy in my house, Neville, he’s great at Herbology,” George spoke fondly, his eyes turning to look out the tall windows.

“Sprout has talked about him,” you said, looking at George’s side profile, “says he’s quite talented.”

“Yeah, he’s great,” George said awkwardly, feeling quite uncertain in your presence.

“What’s your favorite class?” you asked, still trying to make some conversation.

George raked his mind, trying to decide if he should make up an answer to sound smart or be honest. He decided to be honest.

“I quite like lunch,” he said, casting a smile down at you.

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully. He bumped his shoulder against yours, and you giggled even more.

You were eventually able to fall into a comfortable conversation, walking around the castle with ease. His hands tucked themselves into his pockets, and you crossed your arms over your chest. You eventually stopped in the courtyard, and George led you over to a bench under a large tree.

You sat close to each other, and he was painfully aware of the way your leg rubbed against his. He looked down at the spot where your skirt ended and your tights began, a lump forming in his throat. He looked at the side of your face, you seemed wonderfully content. Your eyes scanned the array of plants in front of you, looking at each of the vibrant flowers that were beginning to bloom.

“I really am sorry about your hand,” he said, partly as an excuse to pick up your hand and pretend to look at the healed cut.

Your felt tingles shoot down your arm at the unexpected touch. You looked at the hair that fell over his forehead as he peered down at your hand, holding it delicately.

“Oh, it’s alright,” you said reassuringly, “accidents happen.”

He smiled at your kindness, your eyes meeting. This time, you were sure he was looking at your lips. Your eyes danced around his face, and you felt your lips curling into a smile as he watched them.

“Would you mind if-” he croaked out, but the words seemed to be caught in his throat.

You giggled, and he dropped your hand, his head rolling back as a bought of laughter came from him. He suddenly seemed the most relaxed he had ever been.

Suddenly, when his head came to face yours again, his hands snaked up to hold your cheeks. Your eyes widened, and your smile did too. He brought your face to his, and you had realized what he was going to ask you just a second ago.

His hands were warm, and the callouses felt nice against your soft cheeks. His kiss was soft and gentle, and he waited for you to reciprocate. Your hands traveled up to wrap around his neck, and the second your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, his kiss intensified.

One of his hands traveled down to your neck, and his thumb grazed your jaw. The other slithered to your hair, and he lightly pushed your face even closer to his. Your nose pressed into his cheek and you leaned closer, your shoulder bumping into his. His tongue trailed over your bottom lip, and you sighed, opening your mouth to his.

“Ew! Get a room!”

You heard two voices shouting towards you. You pulled away, much to George’s dismay, who stayed in the same place with his eyes closed.

You looked over George’s shoulder and saw his brother and his friend.

“George,” you nudged him, casting your blushing cheeks and sheepish smile down at your lap, “I think you’re needed.”

George groaned, opening his eyes slowly. His hand was still tangled in your hair, and he slowly removed it. You felt chills as his hand raked over your neck and down your yellow tie, attempting to keep your close.

“What?” he said so poisonously, that your eyes widened.

“Keep it in your pants!” the younger redhead called out, shoving his shoulder against his friends, laughing.

“I swear to-” you heard George mumbled, already moving from his seat next to you and off to his brother.

The smaller redhead shoved his books into Harry’s chest, setting off in a run. Harry laughed loudly as George chased after his younger brother. George pulled his wand from his waistband, pointing it at Ron and easily casting a spell that bound a rope at Ron’s feet. Ron fell to the ground with a thud and George stood over him, smiling evilly.

He looked back at you, watching as you covered an entertained laugh with your hand. His face melted into pure admiration, and he abandoned Ron, leaving him tied up in the grass. George broke out in a jog, determined to hear your sweet laugh.

[cal-kestis]

If I Could Never Give You Peace

(Javier Peña x Female Reader)

Gif by @pedropcl​ [original gifset]

Summary: Two years after resigning from the DEA, Javi finds himself in Los Angeles, haunted by glares of gunshots and blood-stained hands. He’d succumbed to the idea that he’d never have peace — doesn’t deserve it after everything he did in Colombia. Then, she moves in next door and maybe, he thinks, things could be different. “I hope this doesn’t scare you,” she whispers, her fingers still tracing shapes over his head. “But I care about you, Javi, a lot. I think I could fall in love with you someday...” She exhales, a quiet, shaky sound. “I think I’ve already started.” Word Count: 4,357 A/N: A Reader-insert one-shot with a nameless female reader. No “Y/N” or "you," but the reader can be anyone. Inspired heavily by Taylor Swift’s “Peace.” How many TS references can you find? Lol. Tags: Fluff, Angst (with a happy ending), Mentions of death (but no one dies, I promise), Alcohol, Cigarettes

[Read on AO3]

The rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me... All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret... Would it be enough, if I could never give you peace? — Taylor Swift, Peace —

When Javier Peña handed in his DEA badge and gun two years ago, he knew he couldn’t stay in Texas. Not forever.

Texas held too many familiar faces, old friends calling him a hero when he felt like a villain. It held too many ties to an old version of himself he’d rather not remember… muddied images of him with a beautiful woman, an abandoned altar, and a shattered promise. No, he couldn’t stay. Not even for his father.

So, Javier Peña and the unwelcomed overcast of his nightmares found a one-bedroom apartment in sunny Los Angeles.

In time, he realized he needed the city: constant motion, endless traffic, and hoards of busy people who would never remember his face. He could blend in. He could be alone.

He could have a clean slate.

But each night, glares of gunshots flashed behind his eyelids and invisible bloodstains marred his calloused palms as if to remind him:

He could never have peace.

Then, she moved in next door.

The first time he saw her, he only caught a glimpse. She and her boyfriend, he assumed, held towering stacks of brown boxes in front of their faces — sweating as they lugged the dusty weight into the empty space.

For a moment, he considered offering some neighborly help but decided against it — When have you ever cared about being a good neighbor, Javi? — closing himself in his quiet apartment with a glass of whiskey.

The second time he saw her, she came knocking on his door the next night.

“Hi, neighbor,” she smiled brilliantly. And for a split second, he swore he felt something foreign flutter in his stomach, but dismissed it as the after-effects of spoiled dinner. “I just moved in next door and wanted to introduce myself.”

He could not take his eyes off her. His gaze stayed glued to a small bead of sweat trailing a slow path down from her hairline, where she’d pulled it back with a makeshift scarf-headband. The droplet slipped down her cheekbone, over a smudge of dust that had settled in from her moving boxes. It drifted down the curve of her jaw, dipping into the slope of her neck until finally hiding away below her tank top. And by some miracle, she only needed to repeat her name for him once before he came out of the trance.

“Sorry.” He gulped, removing the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Javier.”

He extended his hand and she met him halfway. Soft. So soft.

“Good to meet you, Javier.” She smiled again. Flutter. “I’m sure you’re busy. Just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, she swiftly turned on her heel to walk the few steps back to her door, bare feet strutting off, flaunting her daisy dukes, and — God help him, he’s a man and she’s beautiful — he stared.

The nail in the coffin?

When she opened her door and gave him one last smile over her shoulder, she winked.

No, he could never have peace.

—

After that, he hardly ever sees her.

Part of him feels relieved, unduly wary of the strange flutter he’d feel just thinking of her name. The other part, the traitorously curious part, dreams of catching another glimpse of her glistening skin or a quarter note of her honeyed voice. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he finds himself often wondering if her boyfriend gets to enjoy her sun rays and melodies. Lucky bastard.

He blames his roaming thoughts on the fact that it’s… been a while.

This is what you wanted, he’d remind himself when he’d wake to an empty bed — a stark contrast to his time in Colombia. This is the way things should be.

Just when he starts to believe those words, he finds her crumpled on the floor in front of her apartment — the contents of her purse strewn across the hardwood beside her, palms pressed firmly against her eyes. One tiny sniffle and a tremble of her shoulders, and he melts into a puddle beneath her muddy sneakers.

“Hey,” he whispers tentatively, voice raspy with cigarette smoke.

She jolts at the sound, immediately wiping her face with her sleeves and plastering on a saccharine smile.

“Javier,” she tries to say, but her voice breaks on the vowels. “Sorry, I was just— rough day. And to top it off, I think I left my keys inside. I tried Jerry but no luck.”

“Jerry’s a shit landlord,” he sighs, earning a nod from her. He takes out an old, faded receipt from his pocket and kneels in front of her, finding a pen amongst her spilled belongings. “Try this number. He’s usually fast. Can get you back in your apartment tonight.”

He hands her the scribbled receipt and she takes it with a real smile, albeit small. “Thank you, Javier.”

He nods, a tiny dimple forming in one tanned cheek, before getting up to unlock his apartment. The door clicks but he stands there for a moment longer, listening to her waning sniffles as she throws her things back into her bag. His eyes screw shut tightly, a silent war waging behind his forehead, his fingertips feebly trying to rub it away.

He sighs long and heavy when he realizes which part of him has won.

“Would you... like to come inside my place while you wait?” He mutters, mainly to the floorboards. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

“Okay.” Her smile is warm like the sun, despite the cloud of tears still glazed over her eyes. “But you don’t strike me as a cream and sugar kind of guy.”

“No,” he admits with an amused smirk. “But I’ve got some old whiskey, older milk, and a phone you can use, toll-free.”

“Thanks, Javier,” she sniffles. “Coffee sounds nice. But hold the booze and tainted milk.”

And that’s how she ends up in his apartment, sitting at his small dining table, slowly sipping from his coffee mug, using his landline to call the locksmith.

Maybe it’s the caffeine or the three (stolen) pink packets of sugar she found in her purse (“It’s not stealing. Diners offer dozens of them in cute little boxes, I mean practically gift-wrapped, and I modestly accepted three.”), but coffee gets her talking the way alcohol coaxes even the darkest secrets from iron-barred lips. She just broke up with her boyfriend. Or he broke up with her — found some younger, hotter-than-her aspiring actress in Hollywood and left her in the dust of the boxes she’d just unpacked.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “You’ve been so nice. Really, Neighbor of the Year,” she laughs, but he thinks it sounds off. He wants to hear the real thing. “And here I am, taking up your space, drinking your coffee, and dumping all my problems on the table. Tell me if I’m talking too much, Javier. I tend to—”

“Javi,” he says, furrowing his brows as if mildly stunned by the two syllables he just spoke. She looks confused. “You can... call me Javi, for short. And I don’t mind listening.”

“Javi,” she tests the name on her tongue, smiles. His stomach flutters. “A good name for a good guy.”

The argument dies on his tongue the minute he thinks it, even though she’s horribly, terribly wrong.

Sometimes you gotta do bad things to catch bad people.

If she knew...

“I should be out of your hair in 20 minutes anyway,” she says, breaking him out of his dark reverie. “Locksmith’s on his way.”

When she finally gets back into her own apartment, Javi jostles her doorknob, double-checks the lock, and knocks on wood for good measure.

“Find your keys?”

“Got ‘em!” She chirps, jingling her lost keys. “I’m gonna have to memorize that number.”

“I’m next door, too, if you ever need anything.”

“Me too. I can lend you some sugar for your sad-man, bitter coffee,” she jokes. “Thanks again, Javi.”

He sends her a tight-lipped smile and a short nod, a familiar weight settling in his chest as he turns back to his lonely apartment.

“Would you like to come in for dinner?” She asks, quiet and suddenly timid. “I’m no chef, but I’ve never made a spaghetti I couldn’t tolerate.”

He opens his mouth to refuse but she beats him to the punch. “It’s the least I can do after you helped me out. Please?”

And it’s the way she asks that gets him. The way “please” seems to fall from her lips like an unanswered prayer. He wonders, maybe she’s just as lonely as him.

So, he walks into her apartment, she smiles, and his stomach flips.

—

Months pass by with this new routine. He joins her for dinner at least once a week, if their schedules allow. If not at the local diner where she infamously loots sugar, it’s usually at her place. For one thing, although it’s usually pasta, she tends to have more appetizing (read: edible) groceries stocked up than him. But if he’s being honest, something about her apartment just feels more like… a home.

Framed smiles of her and her loved ones line the walls. With each visit, he finds himself studying a new one, imagining the story behind each snapshot. (He noticed after their first dinner, she’d thrown out the photos of her ex, replacing them with Polaroids of the city.) Piles of pillows stack up neatly on her couch, vibrant hues and patterns decorating the space. He adores the soft waves of music always floating around her space. She plays a different record each time, but somehow, each one compliments the sweet tones of her voice perfectly.

Her place feels brighter than his too, and he’s not sure if it’s the east-facing windows or if it’s just her.

Soon, he doesn’t need to decode the photos on the walls anymore. She tells him more than she’s told anyone before — about her hometown, her family, what she studied in college, her travels, her favorite books, her irrational fears, her dreams.

He tells her considerably less, especially when it comes to his time in Colombia.

For now, she doesn’t mind. She likes the way he watches her when she talks — brown eyes soft and warm, brows pinched together as he takes in each word, the ghost of a grin tugging at one corner of his lips when she gestures dramatically.

He realizes, one night after dinner, he comes home smiling now. And he thinks the nightmares have started dwindling, ever since that first dinner.

Maybe, he lets himself imagine. Things could be different.

—

He calls for you over and over, shouting until his throat burns and the echo of his frantic voice pounds in his ears.  

“Where are you?” He screams.  

The narrow hallway is dark, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He crushes his body into the hard wall, arms sliding roughly against cold brick as he tries to keep himself concealed. The gun in his hand feels icy and impossibly heavy, and his arms tremble as they lift the weapon higher, rounding the corner.

“Llegas tarde, Peña,” a deep, gravelly voice sneers. “You’re too late.”

“Tómame!” Javier yells. “Tómame en su lugar.”

“You would die for her?” The voice chuckles. “Llegas tarde.”

The voice’s shadow moves, revealing a smaller shadow crumpled on the floor — lifeless.

“Javier! Javier!” A distant voice chants, accusing him. Boom! Blaming him. Boom!

“Javier!” Boom!

The pounding sound wakes him up with a jolt, and his sweat-slicked chest rapidly rises and falls as he reaches for the gun inside his bedside table.

Slowly, Javier creeps to the front door where the loud pounding started. But when he peers into the peephole, he only finds her — looking as tired and distressed as he feels. A wave of relief floods through his overheated body.

She’s wrapped up in a blanket, a worried look wrinkling her forehead.

He puts his gun down in a drawer and lets her in.

“What time is it?” He asks.

“Almost 4 in the morning.”

“What’s wrong?” He demands, suddenly worried about why she’d be waking him this early.

“You tell me,” she says, frown lines still etched by her eyes — mirroring his own tired marks. “I heard you yelling. I was worried, Javi.”

“It was...” he starts, squinting as the images flash in his mind again. “Just a dream.”

It only takes one glance into his eyes for her to reach out to him, pulling him in by his neck until he nuzzles into hers.

He breathes her in, holds her like he’s not sure she’s real, like she might be gone tomorrow. “It was just a dream,” he echoes, but he’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.

“It was just a dream,” she repeats after him.

She pulls him by his hand toward his couch, sitting down before patting the space beside her. And just this once, he allows himself to let his head rest in her lap, lets her drape her fuzzy blanket over him, lets her soft fingers draw slow circles in his hair, lets her lull him to sleep with mumbled whispers he can’t quite make out, and lets her ward off the lurking darkness like a nightlight.

He’s asleep before he can hear the quiet secret that spills from her lips.

“I hope this doesn’t scare you,” she whispers, her fingers still tracing shapes over his head. “But I care about you, Javi, a lot. I think I could fall in love with you someday...” She exhales, a quiet, shaky sound. “I think I’ve already started.”

She comes over to his apartment more frequently after that. Whether to bring him dinner or just sit on his couch in comfortable silence, she doesn’t like to leave him alone.

And maybe, she’d rather not be alone either.

—

He doesn’t remember how she convinced him, but here he is... sitting at a crowded bar drinking water, watching his tipsy neighbor bouncing alone on the small dance floor.

Every so often, some cocky drunk comes up to put his hands on her waist and tries to dance with her, but she plasters on a faux smile and shakes her head at them, muttering something while nodding in Javier’s direction. Each time, they sulk away and he chuckles.

Finally, she bounces over to him, tugging at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Dance with me, Javi. Please,” she draws out the word, an octave higher than normal.

And despite himself, he follows her voice like a sailor enthralled by a siren’s song.

She puts her arms around his neck, swaying her body against his. And then she shouts over the music, “I’m so glad we’re friends.”

And the heart on his sleeve falls straight to the floor, clanging loudly in his ears like metal.

‘Friends’ is more than you deserve, he reminds himself.

But then she continues, resting her head against his chest, her index finger coming up to tap a tantalizingly slow beat over his collarbone. “Good friends,” she sighs, lifting her gaze until her chin digs into his heart, her lips just inches from his. “Really… good… friends.”

She’s kissing him before he can even process the feeling. And despite his better judgment, he lets her. She’s everything warm and soft and good, with just a hint of alcohol — and he’s what you get when you turn those words upside down, jumble the letters, and crumple the paper into a jagged ball. But he craves the way her curves somehow fit perfectly against his cold, shattered edges. And he knows he shouldn’t.

So, when he feels her tongue trace along the seam of his mouth, he gently pulls away, hands rubbing soothing circles on her shoulders.

“You’ve had too much to drink, cariño,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” she whispers, smiling with half-lidded eyes, drawing her finger across his mustache then below his ever-pouting lip.

She’s passed out in his car by the time they’re back home. When he unlocks her apartment door for her, she stays latched onto his arm as he turns to leave.

“Stay,” she whispers.

“I—”

“Please?” She asks, in that way he knows he can’t fight. “I don’t want to be alone.”

And just like that, the door closes behind him and he stays.

He finds her an oversized shirt to change into, helps her wipe the smudged mascara off her face, and holds her until the sun rises.

When she wakes, the space beside her is empty but warm and indented, the shape of his body lingering in the sheets. A full glass of water, ibuprofen, and the phantom taste of Javi’s lips are the only other traces of her really… good... friend.

—

He’s not avoiding her… per se. But it’s a long, lonely week later when he sees her again, on an uncharacteristically rainy Sunday outside their apartment building.

“I just got home,” she blurts after standing there dumbfounded for a good minute. She nods to the soaked brown paper bags in her arms. “Groceries. Uh, obviously. Were you...?”

“Forgot my umbrella,” he answers.

“Same,” she chuckles awkwardly, droplets hanging on her lashes and the ends of her hair, only partially covered by her hood. “Obviously.”

“Here, let me help you.” He takes the bags from her, keeping the door open with his foot as he waits for her to head inside.

“Thanks, Javi-er.”

He follows her upstairs silently, his wet, squeaking shoes punctuating each slow and heavy step.

“I can—”

“Let me just—”

They fumble and dance around each other in her doorway as he sets her bags in her apartment. And, as if to torture herself, she decides to stand under her door frame when he leaves to grab his umbrella, waiting the longest minute of her life for him with a forced smile.

He waves his umbrella at her after locking his door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

He nods and walks back down the stairs.

“Javier, wait.”

He pauses, his back still facing her, drenched shoes balanced on two different steps.

“Can we talk?” She hates the way her voice sounds when she asks, tinny and trembling. Clearing her throat, she clarifies, “About what happened... at the bar?”

He sighs, screwing his eyes shut tight and rubbing his forehead.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says, low and barely audible as the rain starts picking up outside. And he walks away.

She’s stunned still, watching as his figure shrinks with each step he takes away from her. He’s already out of the building by the time frustration fuels her feet to follow him into the rain.

“Like hell there’s nothing to talk about,” she yells over the downpour, hair quickly sticking flat to her face. “Javi, we kissed!”

“You were drunk,” he says, just loud enough for her to hear, still walking.

“I wasn’t drunk,” she argues to his back, remembering with perfect clarity exactly how his lips felt on hers. “Just a bit braver. Javi, stop! Look at me. Please.”

And like clockwork, he turns slowly but doesn’t move any closer.

So, she closes the distance to stand beside him under his umbrella, taking in his features without the obscurity of rain.

“What are you running from?” She wonders, reaching for his fidgeting hand. “I would never hurt you. I—”

The line between his brows looks deeper than usual, as if they’d been stuck in that pinched position for weeks. Shadows lay in rings beneath his eyes, accompanied by smaller lines that carry untold stories she hopes he’ll entrust her with someday. His mouth is parted just slightly, as if to say something he knows could change everything.

And it does.

“I have to go.”

Her hands are empty and wet when he leaves. And the rain buries his parting words into the pavement.

I don’t want to hurt you.

—

She doesn’t hear from him for two weeks. Doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him.

The rain sticks around longer than usual for Los Angeles, making her apartment feel cold and gloomy. But maybe, it’s just missing him as much as she is.

Then, while she’s folding her laundry one night, she hears his door rattle and practically bolts to her own. He’s there. Keys in hand, rolling luggage in the other, hair tousled like he’s been pulling at it with his fingers. He looks at her when she opens her door, just for a beat too long, before hiding away in his apartment.

She sighs, closing her door in defeat.

But just as she starts getting ready for bed, she hears two knocks at her door, heart beating rapidly as she slowly makes her way to open it.

“Hi, neighbor,” he greets her softly, and the sound of his voice after so long without it nearly brings her to tears.

“Where did you go?” She asks. But she really means, Why did you leave?

“Texas,” he says. “I... needed to see my dad.” But he really means, I was scared.

“Oh.”

“Can I...” he mutters. “Can I come in please?”

She hesitates for only a second before stepping aside and he looks around like he hasn’t seen the inside of her apartment hundreds of times already.

He stops near her bedroom, where a new picture hangs proudly: a goofy, blurry photo of him stashing three pink packets of sugar in his shirt pocket.

“It’s the only photo you’ve let me take of you,” she says quietly, standing next to him with a wistful smile on her face. “I miss our diner dates.” But she really means, I miss you.

He doesn’t respond, just silently walks to her couch and sits, fingers rubbing circles into his forehead.

Minutes roll by slowly as she watches him from the other side of the room, battling with some invisible hand covering his mouth, holding on until the end to keep the words locked up.

“I’m not a good man,” he whispers, so softly she almost doesn’t hear it. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of... back in Colombia. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to tell you. I think a part of me is still there, fighting some unwinnable war. Hell, even before Colombia, I—”

Muddied images of a beautiful woman, an abandoned altar, and a shattered promise flash in his mind.

“Fuck. I can’t shake it,” he says, looking up at her with red-rimmed eyes, waving the invisible iron shackles on his wrists to show her. “Any of it. The nightmares...” He recalls her shadowy body and a dark, menacing voice. “They’ve followed me for years. I—” he looks at her, eyes darting across her face. “I could never give you peace.”

His head hangs low and a wayward curl brushes against his forehead. Despite how much space he takes up on her couch, he looks so small, defeated —  the weight of his past crushing him into this tiny, torn, crumpled-up piece of paper covered in red-inked, scratched-out sentences.

“Javi,” she whispers, but he doesn’t meet her eyes. So, she crosses the room and kneels in front of him, her palms reaching for his cheeks and lifting his gaze to hers. “Javi, who said anything about peace?”

The wrinkles deepen between his brows as he studies her, tries to understand what she means in the cloudy orbs of her eyes.

“The past is the past. We’ve all done things we can’t speak of. And sometimes at night, we live it all again. God knows I’m far from perfect. But I know you’re a good man, Javi. I see you,” she tells him, stroking the curves of his cheekbones with her thumbs.

“I’m not—”

“Do you trust me?” She interrupts his argument. He stares at her, blinks, before nodding once.

“Then trust what I’m saying. You’re not perfect. But you’re good.”

His eyes close as soon as she sees water beginning to pool behind his lashes.

“I’m not asking for peace. As long as I get to be with you, it would be enough.”

And then his lips are crashing into hers, pulling her into his lap until he’s covered in her. The sound he makes when they touch is devastatingly beautiful, like she’s a balm soothing his freshest wounds and healing his oldest scars. It feels like his entire body has exhaled — lungs deflated, bones liquified, mind released from a decades-old straitjacket. If not for gravity, he could float from the way his stomach is fluttering. His shoulders lower and he sighs as if he’d been holding his breath for his entire life until this moment.

He’s drowning in her, submerged to the top of his head. But he can finally breathe.

“I’m sorry I ran,” he whispers into her skin. “I’m sorry I left, cariño,” he kisses just below her ear. “My dad said I was the biggest asshole on the planet for leaving. I’m sorry, baby. So sorry,” he licks the seam of her lips.

“Mi alma, you have no idea,” he sighs when she parts her lips for him. “How much I love you.”

And she captures the words on her tongue, kissing him with a ferocity that says, Yes, I do.

“Want to know a secret?” She gasps when his lips trail down her neck. Her voice is barely a whisper, as feather-light as her fingertip skating across his shoulder.

He hums, a soft, lazy smile stretching his lips wide, so wide.

“I don’t think it’s possible,” she says, staring into his deep brown eyes. “That I’ll ever love anyone more than I love you, Javi.”

Her finger stops, retracted to shield herself after such a heavy confession. His eyes blink slowly, head lifting off the couch cushion.

He doesn’t say a word. He only stares at her, the softest smile on his face — his edges blurring into gentle curves in front of her very eyes.

“You’re it for me,” she finalizes.

And then they’re crashing into each other again and again and again.

End Notes: Look, it’s been almost 10 years since I sat in a Spanish class and watching Narcos only restored 3% of my limited vocabulary. Here’s what I got from Google Translate: “Llegas tarde.” = You’re too late. “Tómame!/ Tómame en su lugar.” = Take me!/ Take me instead. “Cariño” = Darling, honey “Mi alma” = My soul P.S. Please let me know if I missed any tags/triggers!

[violetnotez]

HC: Y/N Wears a Revealing Version of their S/O’s hero suit

God it’s been so long since I’ve done headcannons, I miss them so much! These I’m going to keep tame, cause I don’t want them to be toooo spicy!

Also, I didnt iclude Shindo and Shinso, sorry! I realized rather quickly how long these got and didnt want to bog down this post, hope thats okay!

Pairings: Mirio x reader, Tamaki x reader, Bakugo x reader, Kaminari x reader (all characters aged to 18+)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Mirio

It would be a disgrace if I didn’t use this pic

So you had been invited to a photo shoot for a pretty high end boutique to be one of the models

Were you stoked that this extremely prestigious brand wanted you on their front cover? Yes. Were you terrified as hell? Also a fat yes.

Mirio, being the adorable boyfriend he is, was hyping you up for it

“Your going to be amazing sunshine! Ya never know until you try, ya know?”

Even with him being your support, you still felt extremely self conscious

“I don’t know...I’m not a model, I don’t think I can do it-“

“Don’t talk so negatively like that babe! What if I came with you, would that calm your nerves some?”

Your practically melted into him, giving him the biggest hug everrrr

“Oh my god would you? That would make me feel so much better-“

“Of course babe! Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it!”

So the day of, you came into the photo shoot fresh faced and pale as hell from nerves

They seperated you from Mirio, taking you to the makeup area and clothing area

You entered a room lined with extremely bright makeup stands and racks of clothing, your area in a small corner to the right with a mannequin wearing a certain set of clothes

You finally realized what you were actually modeling-and your mouth dropped

No wonder the asked you to model, being Mirio’s girlfriend-it was a sexy version of his hero suit

It was a skin tight leotard, the number “1000000” scrawled against your chest, a thick red cape draping against the back

Lemon colored glasses and thigh high blue boots completed the look, a huge gulp reverberating from your throat-

How the hell were you going to pull this off? In front of your boyfriend no less-

You pain stakingly got your makeup done and your hair, your strands pooled up like Mirio’s hair in the front and the rest cascading in bed head curls

You finally got the skin tight costume on, looking at yourself in the mirror-you felt nervous but-strangely calm-you didn’t look half bad, actually

A small smile graced your face as you walked out, your heels clicking against the floors as you walked into the photo shoot room

Now the question was where was your-

“Hey sunshine! Whoa, that get up looks great, looks pretty similar to something I wear dontcha think?” He was totally teasing you, his tone playful as he leaned into your blushing face

Suddenly your bravery was gone and you were a nervous wreck-your boyfriend was looking at you with hungry eyes, his orbs gazing over every exposed curve

“Mirio, you don’t have to look at me like that-“ you whined, feeling your cheeks burn bright red

“But I want to look at you like this babe,” he smiled, his voice dropping as he licked his lips- “you look absolutely delicious dressed up like that.”

Tamaki

“Oh cmon Tamaki, please come with us!” You pleaded with your nervous boyfriend, his brows furrowed in fear

It was the middle of October, and you and Neijire were planning to go to an early Halloween party in the middle of town

“I-I wish I could go bunny, I really do, it’s just-“

Tamaki was fiddling with is hands, his inky black hair cascading over his distraught face

He would love to go with you, but the thought of people, and dancing, and dressing up, and oh god what if they made fun of his costume-

You placed a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek, sending him a reassuring smile

“No worries, Tama, I get it-just stay home and chill, I’ll make sure to come home a little early,”

“Oh-okay,” he obliged, watching you go into the bathroom to get ready

Tanaka decided to do exactly what you asked him to do-he watched some TV, ate some food, anything to calm his nerves as you got ready

After an hour or so, you emerged from the bathroom, walking into the kitchen in your full get up

Your hair was straight, see through yellow glasses covering your eyes. You wore a black leotard, the fabric hugging your curves as a beige cape draped around your thighs. Two purple belt laid against your hips, drawing attention to your plush thighs as your boots clicked around the apartment

Poor Tamaki practically choked on his cereal when you walked in-when you said you were wearing a costume, you didn’t tell him it was his hero suit!

Tamaki walked over a blush erupting over his face, “Y-y/n? W-what are you-wearing?”

You spin around, guilt pooling in your stomach as your eyes met your boyfriends flustered gaze

“I’m sorry Tamaki I should have told you! The party is “hero” themed, so I thought the best suit to wear was yours-do you...want me to take it off?”

Tamaki vigorously shook his head, his cheeks a fiery red

“N-no! Please don’t! Honestly, that’s the last thing I want...” he stuttered his shaking hands resting on your hips and pulling you gently to his chest

You had never seen Tamaki so bold-your eyes widened, your hands placed against his chest

“-but I don’t think you should go to that party tonight”

Bakugo

You ran over to Bakugo, your phone screen containing a pic of a cosplayer dressed up in full Bakugo hero suit, gauntlets and all

You legit shoved it into your boyfriends face, your face beaming- “look how cool this costume is!”

“Tch-Only I can wear my hero suit as well as me,” Bakugo scoffed, going back to eating his ramen

You looked at him distraught and disbelief- “Cmon, Bakugo, you had to admit it’s pretty cool-“

“Cool? He’s a fucking wierd ass nerd, making my hero suit...” Bakugo said under his breath, his eyes now glaring at his phone screen

You placed your hands on your hips- “So if I wore your hero suit, I would be ‘wierd ass nerd’?”

Bakugo chuckled harshly- “Yeah-but you couldn’t wear it, like I said, I’m the only one who can pull it off-“

Ha-if that fucker wanted to play, then you were here to win

You slammed your hands down on the table, your arms encasing a surprised Bakugo in between your arms

You gave him a wicked grin, making Bakugo’s crimson eyes wide with surprise-“Bet bitch.”

Y’all are so mean to each other 😳

You stomped out of the room, your mind now reeling-you had ZERO idea how to make his costume...

You quickly made a call to Mina and Momo, telling them about your predicament-Mina would help you design, and Momo would help make the materials

Both were extremely open to helping you, especially Mina-any attempt to destroy Bakugo’s overly high ego, she was down to do!

But she had a twist to your intial plan- “what if you did a sexy version of him! That’d show him!”

You weren’t exactly sure how that would do anything, but eh why not-if you could make him even more mad, this was the way to do it

Momo was hesitant to make such a lewd outfit, but you quickly reminded her of her revealing hero outfit

-she quickly agreed after that

Mina designed the “suit”-honestly it was just a bra with two orange X’s, bootie shorts with a grenade belt, and green ribbon connecting to the black thigh high boots

You complained to Mina about how uncomfortable the high heel was, which she responded with “Beauty is pain!”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes

How would Bakugo’s suit be complete without the gauntlets! You three had the hardest time with that-deifnitely spent a whole day watching 3 hours worth of cosplay tutorials to make those damn things

But after many hours of snacking, hot glue guns, and screams of annoyance, you three FINALLY had the costume finished-and you couldn’t be happier! It honestly made you feel so cool and powerful...especially those gauntlets-

no wonder why he wore the clunky things, they honestly were fun to wear

You decided to wear the outfit before Bakugo came home one day, your face smug as you waited for him to enter your shared apartment

You finally heard the click of the door, Bakugo wearing his usual baggy pants and shirt he wore when he came home, his shoulder holding his duffel bag full of things

“-Hey”, he welcomed you gruffily, not even noticing your attire

“Hey yourself-“ you replied, a shit eating grin on your face as you walked over to him.

He still wasn’t looking, too busy rummaging through his bag- “Am I still a wierd ass nerd?”

Bakugo looked up, and holy shit was he in for a sight

When you said you would make his hero suit, he didn’t take it that seriosuly- you? Make his suit? Psh like that’d happen

BUT IT HAPPENED

You looked-really good in it too-he deifnitely was appreciating the extra skin that was involved 😳

You smirked at his obvious surprise, his cheeks a fiery red as you did a small spin in the suit- “How does it look?”

Suddenly you felt pressure against your wrists from Bakugo’s hands, your back now against the wall as Bakugo drank you in with his piercing red eyes

Now it was your turn to be surprised-cause crap you didn’t expect that to happen

He was now in control of the situation and he knew it-he gave you a shit eating grin, making your blood feel incredibly warm

“-it looks decent...but I think it would be better on the floor”

Kaminari

“Mina no, I’m not-“

You were in shock, flabbergasted, confused-when did they have a intimates based off of hero suits?

AND WHY THE HELL DID THEY HAVE YOUR BOYFRIENDS SUIT

“MINA YES!” she squealed, giggling as she pulled your size out of the rack

The little outfit was pretty revealing- all it was was a white lacy bralette, with a short black jacket with white lighnting bolt decal and a short black leather skirt to match

It was honestly not your thing-it also just felt wierd to wear something like this-

“Your buying it and that’s that-you needed neccesities and this-“ she shook the outfit in your face, “is a necessity!”

The girl seriosuly shouldn’t be allowed to spend money-she stuffed the outfit in her full bag of clothes, bouncing over to the register as you followed her from behind

“I needed bras Mina, not lingerie!”

Yeah she didn’t listen

You finally got home, trying on your new outfits from your shopping spree when you fell upon the set shoved in your shopping bag

The little pink sneak

You pulled it out-it wouldn’t hurt to try it on, she did buy it for you...

You quickly got into it, admiring your body in the mirror-it was tight alright, but kinda cute in ...the skirt accentuated your legs, the bra was decently comfy, and the jacket pulled the whole thing together and made it a pretty cool yet revealing outfit

Just as you were testing out how much movement you had in the leather jacket,you heard the door open to the bedroom you and your boyfriend shared

“Hey babe, do we have any more toilet-“ Kamianri waltzed in, unknowingly oblivious to the scene before him, until he laid eyes on you

You never thought you saw the man blush harder-his eyes were wide with shock, his cheeks a hot shade of red as sparks of electricity flashed around his body

He obviously didn’t know how to react, and in his flusteredness, he somehow slipped on the floor, landing with a hard thud

“Denki!” You yelled out, scrambling to your ditzy boyfriend, “you okay?”

Kaminari gazed up at you, and holy crap he felt blessed- he had a full view of your exposed cleavage, a grin growing on his face as blood tricked down from his nose

“Oh no, Kami, you got a bloody nose-“ you scrambled to get him a towel, kneeling down to place it against his nose

He quickly swiped the blood away, his hands instead pinning yours against your back

“-Dont worry about that,” he grinned, his eyes a dangerous shade of yellow, “let’s worry about you babygirl...and where you got that little get up,”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

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