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fountainpenguin · 1 year ago

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Frayed Knots 15,14,9,2

[Current Ask game]

Frayed Knots - Read on FNN || Read on AO3

#ridspoilers

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15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

My pacing's improved in more recent projects. Knots is pretty bogged down with things that still make me cringe, but it's also like that intentionally because it's Anti-Cosmo's bragging time and he takes pride in his memory and culture (plus he's long-winded in general and I wanted to reflect that). Still, I don't write in that style anymore (except for Knots since it's still ongoing, of course).

This 'fic was also my first (and only) long-term project with British English phrases and spellings, so I learned how to efficiently work as closely to that as I can despite not being a native user of those words.

I'm personally pleased with my success in creating a culture for the Anti-Fairies that's unique to them and completely at odds with Fairy World, but I acknowledge that the nature spirit stuff might not be everyone's cup of tea when they come to read a Fairly OddParents story, so I try to balance that.

There are a lot of little details in their culture that I really like, like Anti-Cosmo's claim that he's descended from the Teumessian fox and that he'd be an outcast if he shapeshifts into any animal besides a fox. Anti-Cosmo uses VERY little magic for the majority of Frayed Knots (using most of it during the war, and only when he has to) and I love both his attachment to his culture and the mental gymnastics he does every time he breaks the social norms.

I'm happy with how the Anti-Fairy culture came out, but it's also pretty far from the established canon and my interest tends to be higher when I'm working on something that's canon-compliant (such as writing a scene a character referenced off-hand in present day, or fleshing out the Wanda/Juandissimo relationship, or doing character studies), so... read that however you like.

[Cnt'd under the cut; content warning for mild 'adult themes' discussion]

tbh I've also enjoyed worldbuilding a fantasy sociosexual culture, because I thought it would be an interesting challenge that would add drastic context between Fairies and Anti-Fairies while also fitting well with their bat genetics and their social norms of accepting things that many Fairies recoil from.

Ex: You're much more likely to accept bullying and theft as acceptable behavior if your social norms already permit a flock hierarchy of creche fathers fighting for dominance. It's easy to be at odds with Fairy World when they mock your cultural beliefs, such as by insisting that Anti-Fairies are a shadow of their Fairy counterparts and wouldn't exist without Fairies, when clearly all the proof points to Anti-Fairies being unique creatures of smoke that grow attached to other creatures and reflect their appearance because of it.

Since the Anti-Fairies are antagonists in the show, I wanted to set up the appropriately "cruel and evil" vibe of their modern leadership while ensuring there's justification in their culture to explain why people might turn towards a leader who embodies strength.

Mm, I'd also say I learned I don't enjoy this vibe of romance? I don't hate romance... I just either need it to be blatantly shallow or deep and complicated in a way that's amusing. The late part of the A.C. and A.W. relationship is super messy, which fixes the boredom for me, but I don't love how these early stages are working out.

In the original draft, A.C. and A.W. barely interact until their honey-lock, which would be about 40-50 chapters in. Well, probably less since we can cut most of the Anti-Wanda content from the story. I personally feel like "barely interacting until they're pushed together" fits their personalities a lot better than meeting in their youth, but... I genuinely didn't think people would have the patience for that, so I adjusted Knots to include Anti-Wanda scenes earlier.

It's probably the right call, and maybe some people enjoy the romantic bits more than I do, but they just read as cliche to me so I struggle with liking them. There are a lot of romance tropes I dislike (such as denying your attraction in front of others) and the romantic side of Knots doesn't vibe with me the way that the "animal people politics" parts do, but I do my best.

I'm satisfied with the character goals Anti-Wanda has so she has actual stuff going on in her life (including emotionally rough and some very messed-up stuff). If these were my OCs then I think Frayed Knots would be what it is without the Anti-Wanda ship at all (and/or she'd be sprinkled in occasionally until she shows up during the honey-lock for real), because I think that's my preferred romance story for them. I don't really vibe with them hanging around each other for so many years; it just feels forced to me.

Also Anti-Wanda can do better.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

I hope it's obvious that I'm writing an evil villain backstory and that there are many, many things in this story that should not be glorified. Anti-Cosmo makes some seriously messed-up decisions throughout this 'fic, which is written for entertainment and not to be a guide for healthy relationships.

Same goes for Origin. Everyone sees themself as the hero of their own story. If you forget they're canonically the villains and they do some messed-up stuff that I would never condone IRL, I will cry.

Honestly if anyone's learned to love the Pixies, I'd be happy. Especially H.P. <3

Also if anyone develops an affection for the episode "Balance of Flour" and the characters in it, I'd like that. Anti-Bryndin makes his only appearance in this episode. No name, no dialogue, no context... but he's my boy.

Also, even though neither H.P., Sanderson, nor Anti-Cosmo is a ""good and correct"" representation of asexuality (i.e. in terms of healthy relationships), they are still ace. If anyone has learned more about asexuality through this 'fic (either from H.P. working out his feelings or because they were exposed to the concept here and did more research on their own), I'd be content with that.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Yeah, you could say that. The official scrap doc for Knots alone is 25k words right now. It grows regularly, and that doesn't include the existing chapter drafts.

Perhaps the biggest change is that in the first draft, Anti-Cosmo's dad is alive, but walked out on his family. I do miss that. Once you commit to killing a parent when your protag is a baby, it's difficult to give them baggage or messy relationships with said person, who frequently gets romanticized. A.C. is absolutely romanticizing the father he never knew, who wasn't as great a person as he likes to think.

Another massive change was that originally, Anti-Cosmo's parents lived in a manor house. They were nobility, but didn't live in the castle. Anti-Bryndin was leader, but flock dynamics didn't exist in the worldbuilding so there wasn't any reason for them to live in the castle. The reason Anti-Cosmo lives in the castle in Knots right now is because his mother was brought under Anti-Bryndin's wing and she gave birth to both her children there.

I very briefly considered Anti-Wanda as heir apparent to Anti-Fairy World and Anti-Cosmo married into the family and that's how he rose to power. That's actually the world my short story "King Me" takes place in, and hopefully I'll be able to get it to a state I'm happy with so I can share it soon. It was drafted back in 2016. It's waited this long; it can wait until it feels right.

Oh. The earliest draft of Origin of the Pixies didn't have Anti-Cosmo show up until Anti-Sanderson had taken over as leader of the anti-pixies, and H.P. had to request permission to cross into Anti-Fairy World to talk with him.

I would say my happiest change in all my FOP works was switching that so H.P. and A.C. interact a ton more in their younger years (although if you look carefully at my earliest pieces like "Open Your Eyes," I think it shows that they were written for a world where A.C. and H.P. barely interacted).

Theeeeee other big change I could mention is Anti-Cosmo's.... ?? friendship? affair?? interaction with Prince Eastkal after the chapter "Deep" (where A.C. saves Eastkal's life and begs him not to confess, for the whole "I'll be disowned if they find out I shapeshifted into a dragon" bit).

In the current version, A.C. gets distracted [cough] and fails to meet the prince as promised. This leads Eastkal to pursue him several chapters later, with Eastkal making multiple attempts to talk to A.C. during "This Close to Heaven", "Floodgates," and "Crossroads". It works, but... it saddens me because this is not the attitude Eastkal has towards Anti-Cosmo in future chapters, which were drafted years ago with the assumption that they met up right after the dragon fight :/ I like the vibe of the first better and regularly wish I hadn't cut it.

Actually, that's another thing I've learned from Knots (and I even wrote a Tumblr post about this months ago before setting it aside under the belief no one would want to hear my vent about it). I cut that scene hoping it would be better for the story's flow and because I was tired and wanted to get to the zoo stuff, but since this is my fanfic I write for fun, I should've just let myself follow the direction I wanted to go. It's frustrating to want to write characters behaving a certain way because of what that cut scene would have done, and then having to change it back to what's "actually canon."

In my first draft, A.C. did meet Eastkal as planned (in the Pink Castle) and it involves a lot of soul-searching on both their behalfs. In current Knots, Eastkal does feel grateful that A.C. saved his life, but boy do I miss the dialogue of the original scene.

I cut the main scene because it was several thousand words on top of a very long chapter... I'd already split "Deep" into... 5 chapters at that point? And I really wanted to wrap up Arc 2 without struggling with another chapter, especially if it might wreck "the vibes." I convinced myself it broke the tension (Going from dragon attack to peace and then zoo), but it's the scene I regret cutting most, because there have been multiple times this year that I've wished it was there because I think it's important to show how A.C. acts (and because I think the scene's hilarious).

This cut meeting inspired Eastkal's attendance during migration season. Frayed Knots can work around not having that scene, but if I can mimic it, that would be nice. The lame part is that it probably would've been nicer right after the rescue, to increase tension of being caught fraternizing with the enemy. I'm trying to find a place for it that's not too near the war.

On reason Knots has been delayed so long because I've been looking for a good way to fit it back in to the timeline, but it was very specifically written for that scene, in that location, so it's rough. There's that and because Cosmo and Wanda are about to become notable, and I don't want to mess up this first meeting between A.C. and Cosmo), so... it'll come! Just been on a necessary hiatus.

I also have a scrapped scene where Anti-Cosmo babysits a nest of spirit eggs, but that got cut because the story is long enough without it. There's a lot of spirit stuff in the second half of Knots and I'm trying to decide how much should be cut... I'd like to end it sooner rather than later. Definitely hoping to post more regularly in 2024.

2. What scene did you first put down?

I think the earliest scene in the story was originally going to be its opening: Anti-Cosmo watching his father pack his suitcase as he prepares to walk out on the family. It would predate my scrap doc, but I might have salvaged something.

Mmm, I didn't find it atm, but I think it was rewritten into a very rough draft of A.C. reacting to his brother leaving shortly after their father's death.

“You’re leaving?” I asked, clinging to the door. “Of course,” he snorted. “The green needs me now more than ever.” “But then I’ll be left alone with Mother.” I glared at the ground. Anti-Schnozmo rubbed my hair, kissed my forehead, and then swept out the door. When I was young, I didn’t understand why we lived in the castle. But I was a smart pup, so I began to put the pieces together, of all the times I’d walked in on Anti-Bryndin kissing my mother.

^ Obviously a very rough version, but a lot of my drafts are this vague to get the story beats down before I flesh them out over weeks, months, or even years.

With polish, I think this would have made a great opening to Knots as well since it immediately sets up A.C.'s difficult relationship with Anti-Schnozmo, that his dad is dead, that he doesn't want to be left with his mom, A-Schnoz's motivations to carry out his father's legacy, and one of the core themes of Knots which is Anti-Cosmo's desire to be wanted.

The current opening of the story is there to establish worldbuilding, especially with the newborn smoke forms (something Anti-Fairies and Fairies can't see eye to eye on). The first chapter is pretty confusing and if I were writing commercially, I think I'd go with the brother walking out. But I wanted to write a longform 'fic about complicated worldbuilding and Anti-Fairy culture and that's exactly what I did, with the establishing shot to open it.

Thanks for reading! Hopefully these were interesting thoughts. Ask box is always open if anyone wants to ask more stuff like this; a lot of the time I tag these things as "director's cut" and I do enjoy sharing what the alt versions of my stories were.

[Current Ask game]

#Fairly OddParents #FOP #Anti-Cosmo #Frayed Knots #The bat with the hat #The best bat queen #ridwriting #Director's cut #Long post #asks #Anon #Ask box games #Dragonfly parents

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writermask-0807 · 2 years ago

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FORBIDDEN FRUIT PART THREE - TEACHER GAKUHO X STUDENT READER

A/n: Hellooooo peoplesss. Writermask is back from the dead! Anyways, I'm finally finished with Forbidden Fruit, and once again, my sincerest of apologies for bad content, but do know that I try my best. I think I'll be lucky if I manage to get even one like to this post, cus I wrote it wayyyy too detailed and I'm pretty sure it's boring... I did try to fix it, and here we are. Hope you enjoy!

Keys: {} for his most prominent thoughts.

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, OOC Gakuho, cringe writing, (blame my sleep-deprived ass), and most words will be reused, since my vocabulary is painfully short, and English is my second language. Also, a lot here will not make complete sense, and sorta violent Gakuho???

Anyways, enough of my crap. Enjoy!

PERHAPS, at times, your lack of observation was truly a blessing, Gakuho thought idly, lazily twirling the accursed picture between his long, slender digits, rich pools of dark hyacinth drenched with the distant, hazy mists of memories, as he disinterestedly studied the photograph flicking between the gaps of his nimble fingers.

Because earlier that evening, he had barely managed to compose himself at the sight of you, his precious darling, with the glassy glaze of unshed tears brimming thickly in your lustrous e/c hues, as they had swirled with a kaleidoscope of vivid, vibrant colors, rich with a wealth of emotions that unknowingly displayed the inner battle you'd been torn between, the boiling turmoil that he knew was tormenting your soul, coming in the bitter form of the hot, scalding tears forming in your eyes, the glitter of the salty remnants clinging insistently to your long lashes as they fluttered slowly, trying to blink the tears away, and he'd watched, half mesmerized and helpless, brain malfunctioning for a few short seconds, as the pearlescent liquid soaked the delicate porcelain of your reddened cheeks.

You'd looked so innocent then, doe eyes enlarged with the hot, stinging swell of unshed tears, your dainty palms curled around his much broader shoulders for support as you'd collapsed against him, petite, crumpled up form trembling with quaking tremors as you'd shuddered against him, the h/c shaded tips of your hair sticking out haphazardly at odd angles, your bottom lip, pink and dewy and irresistible, wobbling with a barely restrained sob, which he knew was clamping your throat, as shudders licked vehemently at your tender, supple flesh, so vulnerable and delicate, this fragile, fragile doll of a meek, timid girl, all pretty eyes and red lips, blanching flesh and ivory, unblemished complexion, crafted by the most flawless of porcelains, as though sculpted by the hands of Gods, and bred by forgotten deities.

And yet, you'd reeked of unbridled sorrow and misery, that reflected in a sharp flash of that aching, aching hurt that flickered painfully in your glimmering orbs of e/c, as you'd stolen a frightened glance at his impassive facade, and he'd felt guilt ram into him with the wrecking force of a freight train, the sweltering tip of a white-hot rod twisting his insides with a sharp feeling that left him slightly breathless, and in silent bafflement at the sheer amount of roaring emotion he felt, an ache he felt deep in the rattle of his bones, a resounding difference that made him feel as though something inside of him crumbled at the sight of your unwarranted despair.

Guilt pulled at his heartstrings, plucking at the delicate cords of his sanity and twisting and writhing a different sort of hurt within him, one that was foreign in his psyche, but agonizing nonetheless, the painful, albeit bizarre sensation feeling as though someone were sifting a roiling, pulsating mass of what felt like shards of broken glass beneath his flesh, making knots form in the pit of his stomach, rare anxiety twisting them with twinges of nauseating unease, and the guilt ate him alive, slowly but surely, gnawing at the frayed seams of his patience. Guilt at knowing he'd smeared your purity, staining what'd once been the very essence of innocence with the strong command of darkness that followed him in its wake, colored your empty canvas with the morbid, dark shades of his own existence, had taken advantage of your naivety.

{And yet, there was that dark, dark part of him that did not regret anything, a fragment of his twisted, bitter soul that, despite the harsh consequences of dappling in the forbidden, and tasting your ripe, untouched innocence and tainting it for himself, that yearned for more, more…}

And yet, despite all superior pretences and sophisticated masquerades, in the end, he was still unfortunately human, and he was selfish, and addicted to the sugary sweetness in his bitter life that was you. And if he were an anchor for you to remain rooted, you were his salvation, the flicker of hope and the spark of light in the eternal, everlasting darkness his unfortunate existence was doused within.

So, resolve steeling with a rekindled firmness, he'd coiled his arms around your slim waist wordlessly, movements almost mechanical and stiff with abrupt shock, controlled by mere muscle memory and absent will, as his mind reeled at the sight of your beautiful, tear-stained face -{your pained expression had been so raw, so painful to behold and the odd coil of emotion inside his chest tightened, making it hard for him to breathe, and he'd felt cold fury coursing poisonously through his bloodstream, surging like molten lava and threatening to explode. No-one had the audacity harm you, his precious darling, no-one, damnit-!}-, as he'd pressed you tighter against him, steadying your quivering, small form against his larger frame, a broad palm coming to rest at the rigid column of your spine as he'd coaxed you into his firm, but gentle embrace, magenta hues glittering garnet with the heavy promise of impending doom, that he would definitely, and swiftly deliver mercilessly when he would deal with that yellow-hued menace.

{How could it have gone wrong? How could it all have gone to waste, all of his careful planning, all of his efforts rendered useless… How did it all unravel at the hands of someone as- as despicable as him? How did it still end up hurting you?!} And then, a more quiet, melancholy voice chiming in, {Despite all of his wealth and power and intellect, how did he fail to protect you…?} But he knew the answer, felt it deep within the rattle of his bones, and the ache in his thudding heart. {Because he was selfish, because of his terrible craving for your ripe, untasted innocence, and he knew it had been his fault, his fault for staining your untouched, fragile perfection, for tilting your world and painting your reality in a film of darkness. And yet, he was still unwilling to let you go, to have mercy and rid you of his dark presence. But then, it would have hurt him more than you. Indeed, he truly was selfsh, and undeserving of you, an angel in the cruel purgatory he suffered.}

"It isn't your fault. It was never your fault." He'd murmured with a firm finality, voice low and raw as he allowed a thin stream, a fraction of his raging emotions to seep into his velvety tone as he'd assured you, sultry and private and only for you to hear as he'd pressed himself closer to you, arms wound securely around your petite, frail form, breathing in the naturally sweet fragrance you secreted, alllowing the chorus of his drumming heartbeat and fluttering pulse to mingle with yours, as you'd exchanged soft, warm breaths. It wasn't your fault, because he knew it was his.

But he was selfish, and he would continue to keep you close to his aching heart.

And he'd marveled at the fact that you reciprocated his selfish desires with a burning need of your own, the thin nails of your fingers biting sharply into the bone of his shoulder blades as your arms curled tighter around his torso, face, still wet with the shimmer of tears, buried into the crook of his neck as you rested your weary head on his shoulder, mind undoubtedly clouded by a haze, and despite the occasional hitch in your stuttering breath, and sniffle catching in your throat, you'd allowed him to soothe your tears, lull your withering despair away, even after all the torture you'd soldiered through because of him, like the brave, brave girl you were. And despite everything, you'd remained happy and content nestled in his arms and swaddled in his scent, and it baffled him, baffled him just how willing you were to offer yourself up to him despite crumbling away, bit by bit, just how eager you were to please, to expose even the most intimate, personal values you held dear to your heart, show vulnerability when he could so easily twist it and turn it against you, dig blades under your flesh and watch you bleed.

But, for some incomprehensible reason, he chose to kiss instead, lips gently grazing across your soft, alabaster skin in a tender, loving reward, watching the heat bloom in a delicate dusting of crimson across your cheeks and crawling down your neck, and the shimmer of relief glistening wet and bright in your luminous eyes.

And then the air had shifted, and unspoken vows had been exchanged with your breathless gasps, and his deep, calming inhales as his mouth met yours, fervent but gentle, delicate and promising, and filled with so many emotions and words that he couldn't quite decipher. The words had streamed soundless and silent, threading unsaid in the atmosphere, hovering slight on your quivering mouth, and his sharp, silver tongue, and though Gakuho knew that neither of you were quite ready to share the words that would bind you both to a proper relationship from this awkward, abstract situation-ship you were hopelessly tangled within, he'd mouthed the shape of a soft, intimate promise against your tender flesh as he'd kissed you in silent reverence, voice inaudible even to his own ears, more of an oath to himself than you- to never let you be hurt ever again, and he intended to fulfill it.

So yes, at specific times, your lack of observation was truly a blessing, as it had been his saving grace, for he'd nearly lost his glacial composure, Gakuho thought, and his jaw clenched at the memory of your e/c orbs glimmering with the delicate coating of tears, soaking your cheeks wet, and the whirl of insecurity and fear and despair he spied within those lustrous, glittering irises.

It had elicted a reaction unexpected from both you and himself, his mouth thinning into a wan, grim line, the sharp slope of his sharp, charming features painted cold with a stinging, forced indifference, bereft of any emotions, a slight twitch marring his furrowed brow, faux calm aura melting into something more sinister, murderous in its stiflingly dark presence even, an unpleasant sensation of scorching beginning to bubble inside his chest, hands clenching into tight fists as the sharp edges of his nails sunk into the flat of his palm, threatening to draw blood, the soft hyacinth of his eyes slowly bleeding into swirls of wrathful crimson and scarlet, spinning with the deepening shade of freshly split blood.

It had stirred an emotion within the deepest core of his very being, the incomprehensible simmer of raw anger pulsing beneath his marble, collected facade, a feeling he'd long since considered futile, the familiar but forgotten surge of molten lava coursing violently through his veins, the coil of anger twisting his guts and boiling his insides with a bloodlust he could not satiate, a roaring, aching hunger scalding his throat with the bitter, bleeding taste of unadulterated fury as it gnawed restlessly at his frayed nerves, rage, an ugly beast rearing it's head, talons digging into the shuddering arch of his spine, making his shoulders quake with barely restrained tremors, though they were from burning anger rather than the despair that reflected from your face.

But despite the abstract whirl of emotions shifting a roiling, contorting storm of twisting turmoil within him, festering restlessly like a plague, and feasting on his frayed nerves, and the bitter remembrance of once cherished memories and the absence of a precious person -{Ikeda, Ikeda, Ikeda, you were still a child, only a child, a child… so why did you do it? Why did you leave, why would you hurt me like this-?!}- the sight of your tears had brought him, and in spite of the yawning rift of anger tearing the fabric of his soul apart, Gakuho lifted the deep, glimmering wine of his gaze to meet the the sight of the yellow-tinted creature before him with a faux, deadly calm that he did not feel.

"Ah, Koro-sensei, how nice of you to finally show up."

He addressed the creature coolly, unfazed by the strong gust of wind that accompanied its sudden presence, the fierce gale rattling the bare insides of his bleak, colorlessly cordial office, as it whipped the brushes of ember-hued hair with a harsh, invisible force. The scalding rage that flooded his mind tightened its grasp upon the sight of the original perpetrator whom he'd stemmed back from all the rumors and photographs, the reason for this hopelessly tangled mess, and your precious, unwarranted tears. The unadulterated fury coiling and snaking around his ribs constricted his stuttering breath at this harsh reminder, and the wild thumping of his frantic, angry heart palpitated stubbornly underneath his ribs, cold fury simmering violently underneath the flawless marble of his flesh, as he felt his boiling wrath pulsing like the undiluted, steady flow of poisonous power through his veins, itching and crawling like the scuttle of insects beneath his skin, a power begging to be released and wrought for ruination and destruction.

Once he'd realized that he'd allowed a trickle of stiflingly dark hostility to stream through the false, composed aura surrounding him, Gakuho hastened to guard his reaction, quickly smoothing out the scathing expression to a blank mask, regaining his bearings. It wouldn't do him well to lose his cool so early on.

However, it didn't mean that he couldn't control it, sharpen and harness it, aim to kill, and the odd, almost feral glint that this sudden dark thought elicited from him glittering uncloaked, and molten garnet in his eyes did not go unnoticed by his rival.

It was with this intention that he spoke, voice as smooth and deceptively unperturbed as always, a honeyed, sultry caress of dark velvet tumbling off of soft lips, sunny tones sounding warm and perhaps even touched by a tinge of invitation, but it was only a well-constructed, honey-coated lie spilling forth from his mouth like the richest of wines, a sickly sweet venom laced with stinging mockery dripping from cold, twisted lips. And though his voice gave nothing away, there was a certain frigidness to his eyes that did not meet his false smile and cheerful tones. Gakuho knew that the creature had detected the sharp, cold accusing undertone coloring his faux cheery voice, poised taut and more than ready to stab and poison, but as polite as always, it didn't let it show, the usually stupid, wide smile stretching from its yellow, bulbous head, showing the rows of pearly white teeth, a thoughtless grin smearing and stretching the yellow flesh taut, as though its head was full of candy and rainbows, utterly remorseless and shamelessly so.

{As though it held no inkling whatsoever to the hurt it caused you, the pain and the chaos it inflicted and injected within your innocent mind, the ache and the world-weariness that clung onto your withering bones, the ghost of the tears that'd pooled in your eyes, the anxiety and the pain and the despair, as though your feelings hadn't mattered at all-!}

It irked him beyond reason, and Gakuho couldn't quite snuff the annoyed twitch marring his brow despite the sickeningly sweet saccharine of the unwavering, false smile twisting his lips.

"My sincerest of apologies, Chairman. I was caught up in a new assassina - " It began with the stirrings of a new excuse, but he interjected calmly, amethyst hues bleeding with the dusty brilliance of the shifting cosmos, painfully sharp and glinting calculatively in the light of the weeping dusk, tone colored with a dark, cold undertone, as he coated the sentence in a carefully constructed rich, baritone timbre, a deliberate bitterness souring each and every word that fell effortlessly from cold, curved lips, dripping acid enough to melt and sear and burn.

"As much as I would love to hear about Class E's most recent efforts on your assassination, I'm afraid I have summoned you here for another reason entirely, Koro-sensei."

Lifting the photograph he'd been absentmindedly flicking earlier between the gaps of his fingers, Gakuho leveled the creature with a blank, scorching stare that would make hell freeze over, with a smile so sickly sweet that it felt bitter plastered on his curled mouth, unadulterated poison gleaming sharp in his piercing gaze as he looked expectantly at the creature, the violet glare of his cosmic-tinted irises glittering molten carmine with the cold, murderous glow of the plaguing rage festering deep within him, and with his head tilted precariously, allowing the light of the dying sun to illuminate one side of his sloped face, drenching the other with a velvety darkness, Gakuho knew he must've looked unhinged, because he saw it recoil a bit, flinching, embarrassment staining a rosy pink to the yellow of its flesh.

"It has come to my attention that a certain person has been spreading rumors about myself and a student, going so far as leaking false photographs… You wouldn't happen to know anyone who is the original perpetrator, yes?" He inquired quietly, voice deceptively calm and soft, but there was a certain frosty chill to his tone that rippled with a silent, compelling authority, as he pinned the creature in place with a frigid, scalding stare that was not quite hostile- not yet anyway, but neither was it very calm. In a way, Gakuho mused, he held a vague semblance dimly reminiscent to glass, because there was a certain layer of fragility to his patience, and it could could break at any given moment.

{But that's the thing with glass. You break it, and you're the one that's bleeding.}

Gakuho assessed the creature with a sharp, almost feral glint burning in the darkening muave of his blood-drenched, moon-kissed eyes, the column of his spine arched rigid, and the sturdy, broad planes of his shoulders hunched taut and tense, posture poised with a deadly elegance, as though he were a predator ready to strike at any given moment, as the yellow-skinned creature recoiled a step back, wincing as his twisted barb hit the nail on the head, and rubbing two of its tentacles together in a sheepish manner as a slight coating of delicate primrose dusted the sunny tone of its skin.

His smile sharpened and tugged taut at his mouth and clenched jaw.

"N-no! Why would you think that?! It's not like I spied on you two on that romantically forbidden evening and took photos and spread them all around the school, and saved extra copies just in case and gossiped with other students while in disguise-...!" It rambled on senselessly, stuttering and stumbling over words, so painfully obvious, apparently paired with the inability to lie, and had Gakuho been another insignificant person in another circumstance, he would've burst out laughing, except he wasn't and knew better, for he didn't find your current predicament a laughing matter, or one to be amusement inducing.

Instead, there was a barely veiled glance of skepticism, and the surge of incredulity, before the familiar upsurge of thinly jaded anger invading through his senses.

The hot simmer of pulsing rage quickened beneath his glacial facade, and Gakuho felt the hairline cracks spidering the surface of his marble mask beginning to deepen, a twisted sensation of murderous wrath worming in through the dark crevices, poisoning his senses and clouding his vision an angry red. The tendrils of poisonous, cold fury creeping through his veins stifled his senses with the sheer intensity of its fierce, white-hot power, twisting and scraping his insides like a red-hot rod, wrenching and churning his gut, squeezing his racing heart with the sharp bite of its clawed talons, each gaunt digit of explosive fury digging deeper into the wild, pounding organ, threatening to make it burst from his contricted chest.

Instead of displaying this surprising myriad of emotions, however, Gakuho simply hummed a noncommittal sound, curling his nimble digits around the photograph, studying the scene playing within it (his lips pressed against yours, an arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer, and your eyes, shining bright with the kaleidoscopic glitter of surprise) disinteredly before crumpling it into a ball.

"Is that so?" Gakuho crooned softly, sarcasm lacing every rich, ambrosia dipped word as they rolled off of his sharp tongue, venomous and ready to stab and twist the bleeding wound for good measure, sugar-coated lies spilling easily from honeyed lips, though they were strangely hollow, and flat. The thread, the delicate gossamer string quilting his fraying patience together, was beginning to waver and threatening to snap, and he turned cold. And as Gakuho raised the frigid, uncaring carmine of his gaze to meet the creature's, cosmic-lidded hues exotic and cold in their magnificent, violet glory, their gazes clashed and collided with enough intensity to produce sparks.

Steepling and threading his fingers together in a calculative gesture, he casually leaned back into the lavish fabric of the chair, though his muscles stretched taut upon his wary bones, refusing to relax in the presence of a being that he knew was intelligent (just stubborn and perhaps even smart enough not to show its sharp intellect), marble mask guarded and unrelenting, as though he were a serpent, coiled and fast and cunning, ready to spring and strike at any given moment, fangs dripping with venom.

Gakuho stared at the creature with a purely predatorial knife edge to his vermilion gaze, honed sharp by the ripple of thick tension charging the air with the violent presence of electricity, his eyes blood-drenched rubies dripping with rich, liquid sangria, as he clashed gazes with the yellow menace, whirling with lost swirls of buried, gentle hyacinth, and the faint glitter of stardust as something dark, and terribly dangerous flickered behind the frame of his lashes.

He stared vehemently, gaze blade-edged and challenging, and this time, the mellow-skinned creature stared back, perhaps even a tad defiantly as it met his gaze head on, no longer drooping and shriveling underneath the chilly frost of his blank stare like a wilting flower, and he absently noted that the pink hue of embarrassment had receded its sunny skin.

No words were exchanged in the heavy, deafening silence that ensued, and both parties refused to acknowledge the killing intent rolling off of him in crushing, nauseating waves of pure, unfiltered darkness, crackling the atmosphere frigid and stifling it with the strong command of darkness that followed him in its wakr. The clear, heavy threat of impending doom descended on the pregnant silence like a vulture to carcass, indescribably hungry and intent upon feasting.

A battle without words, though just as fierce, between two formidable rivals.

There was a heavy, stifling silence that would've knocked the breath out of a lesser mortal's lungs, laced with the poisonous, violent presence of killing intent rolling through the thickening tension, and then, a gentle knife buttering through, persuasive but bracing, - "I can't say I can tell you who is responsible for Y/N's plight, " The creature began carefully, thoughtfully, even, "but I do have a question, regarding the… rumors, if you will. "

"Oh? Do elaborate." Gakuho curtly prompted it to continue, arching a sleek, perfectly manicured brow in question, slowly urging the roiling, sifting mass of darkness to thin, a certain layer of velvet interest veiling his tone, and this time, it was genuine.

"I do not mean to imply anything of the sort, but, do you by any chance," It tilted its bulbous head curiously, and for all the chaos and hell it thought would follow next, its voice was gentle, and soft as it spoke. "Care for Y/N?"

This time, Gakuho truly couldn't mask the ripple of shock crossing his aristocratic, sharp features and widening his plum hues with a distinct surprise at the unexpectance of its genuine question, unconsciously allowing a plethora of emotions to paint the empty canvas of his marble mask, before forcefully schooling his expression into that same emotionless, blank state once more. Ignoring the turmoil wreaking havoc within his mindscape, he weighed the importance of the sudden question imposed on him, guarding and planning his next action carefully.

But despite his rigid frame, the hunched shoulders and the frown dipping the corners of his lips, he knew he hadn't mistaken the sincerity of this genuine, curious inquiry, and he wondered whether or not to answer truthfully, to forgo the anger and the pent-up frustration, to face the creature with the sting of honesty.

And then, the image of your bright smile flickered into existence within his mindscape, the relieving freshness of your bubbly, meek personality, and the simple beauty of your somehow carefree yet timid, shy smile quirking the corners of your plump lips, the chime of melodious bells that accompanied your laughter, the h/c tufts of your rich hair dancing with the cool breeze, the fragments of your innocence, untainted and tempting, and the shimmer of that incomprehensible, tender emotion that flitted in your rich pools of e/c, and the soft, gentle gaze you blessed him with… and then the memory intertwined fingers, whispered promises, a mingled heartbeat beating as one - love, and Gakuho suddenly came to a grinding halt, an unsure decision somehow firm in its sincere honesty.

The words he'd not yet said to you, always hovering on the tip of the tongue, the shape of the intimate promise he'd whispered against your flesh, the tender press of his mouth against yours, the salt of your tears somehow sweet on his lips…

The solemn, magenta gleam of his eyes softened to a warm shimmer in a raw finality, as he raised his head to meet the creature's gaze, the harsh and hollow expression he wore fading into a soft, unconsciously gentle smile tilting his lips as Gakuho finally admitted, as he said in soft, reverent utterance, "I do."

And somehow, Gakuho felt as though such simple, yet meaningful words had made all the difference, and the victory marring the mellow-skinned creature and stretching its mouth into a satisfied grin was unmistakable.

He had planned this, Gakuho's mind echoed with a dawning realization, and before he could say anything else, Koro-sensei spoke first, interjecting. "I see. If it alleviates your worries, Chairman, I shall take care to erase the photographs and such," He turned his head back to face Gakuho's bewildered, questioning gaze, before finishing his sentence with a broad smile, flashing the rows of milky white teeth. "After all, it seems we both care deeply about our students. You more than me, it seems." He added cheekily before disappearing in another strong gust of wind, once again rattling the bare insides of his domain.

He heaved an incredulous sigh, before leaning back in the chair, but despite everything, he couldn't help the small, content smile tugging persistently the corners of his mouth.

"Forbidden fruit perhaps does taste the best, after all."

#reader x gakuho asano #idk how to tag this shi #gakuho asano x reader #assassination classroom #angst with a fluffy ending?#Gakuho x you #Gakuho x y/n #Teacher Gakuho x student reader

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ladydorian05 · 1 year ago

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A Home For Broken Hearts ~ Chapter 1

Co-written with @made-ofmemories

Big shout out to @firefly-party for the amazing art, Check her stuff out She has a lot of amazing Steddie fanart!

We finally get to share our Steddie Bigbang 2023 entry!!!

When we first started to throw ideas at each other on what to write for the Bigbang we thought we'd be writing a 10k, 15k max fanfic. Oh boy. This thing is a monster. You'll see.

Anyways, this is based on the movie The Broken Hearts Gallery starring Geraldine Viswanathan and Dacre Montgomery. It's such a fun Romcom that we both like and that we both recommend. Like the summary says, you do not need to watch the movie to understand the fic.

Last but not least, we hope you have as fun reading this fic as we had writing it! ❤️❤️

Sumary:

Steve has never been the best at letting go, ever since he was a child with absent parents and a house void of any kind of personality he learned to hold onto any kind of memento he got his hands on. Reaching his twenties, a move to Chicago with his best friend Robin, a struggling career, and a string of failed relationships later and he still finds himself clinging to souvenirs from the past.

Things start to change when a drunken encounter leads to a chance meeting with Eddie, a bartender with dreams of opening his own bar. Together (with some assistance from Robin) they open the broken hearts gallery, a place for the broken-hearted citizens of Chicago to leave behind their baggage.

Inspired by ‘The Broken Hearts Gallery’ (knowledge of the movie not essential).

Chapter warnings: Alcohol consumption, Following a stranger instead of your stranger danger knowledge.

Word count: 3,167

Master Post

AO3

Chapter 1: A not so miserable night

This isn’t how Steve saw his night going, hell this isn’t how he saw his life going. Mid-twenties, recently unemployed, single, cut off from his parents and drinking alone in some dingy bar. He looks down at the purple scrunchie wrapped around his wrist, another memento for another failed relationship.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, drinking cheap beer and wallowing in his own self pity. Jesus Harrington, get it together. He picks at the fraying label of his beer bottle, contemplating flagging down the bartender for another even though he really shouldn’t. He’s buzzed for sure, dancing on that line between tipsy and ‘I’m waking up with a headache tomorrow’.

A hand waves in front of him, a few inches from his face and he looks up to see who it belongs to. The bartender, the same one who’s been serving him all night.

He’s about Steve’s age with long brunette curls so dark they look almost black in the dimly lit bar tied into a messy ponytail at the back of his head. His t-shirt has the sleeves cut off and the makeshift tank top reveals thin but toned arms scattered with tattoos. There’s a logo printed across the front of the shirt, probably a band Steve thinks, but it’s not one he recognizes.

“You alright, man?” The bartender asks, “You were pretty zoned out just there.”

“Huh? Oh, uh yeah, yeah, I’m good.” He cringes a little when he hears his words slurring, “Can I get ‘nother one?” He asks against his better judgment.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Tank Top guy informs him, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he plucks the empty bottle from Steve’s hand, “But, even if I wanted to, we closed about 15 minutes ago.”

Steve’s hazy mind all of a sudden becomes a little clearer as he whips around to see the rest of the bar is, in fact, empty, “Are we the last one’s here?”

“Yup, I’m meant to be closing so,” He drags out the last syllable and Steve gets the hint, sliding off the bar stool and onto unsteady feet. The alcohol hits him with a rush and yep, definitely waking up with a headache in the morning. Damn when did he become such a lightweight?

“I’m sorry, you should have just told me to leave and I would’ve gotten out of your hair.”

“Like I said, you were pretty out of it. I tried to get your attention like 5 times.”

Steve groans, dragging a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose, “Well, this is embarrassing."

The bartender chuckles, it’s barely more than a few puffs of air forced out through his nose, but Steve likes the sound of it, “Rough day?”

“Something like that.” More like a rough month, “I really am sorry for keeping you.”

“Don’t be.”

Steve nods his head and then takes a wobbly step back, attempting to head for the door, “I’ll see you around.” He says though he doubts it’s true. This particular establishment is not one he plans on frequenting and this guy doesn’t look like one who would share any social circles with Steve.

“Wait, do you have someone to pick you up? I can’t just let you wander the streets out there.”

He definitely could, Steve isn’t this guy's responsibility, they don’t know a single thing about each other. He appreciates the concern though, truthfully he doesn’t really have a plan. He drove here, but that’s no longer an option given he can barely walk in a straight line, Robin will be asleep by now and he doesn’t want to wake her to ask her to pick him up.

“I’ll just grab a cab,” Getting a cab on short notice on a Friday night? Easier said than done, “or I can walk.” It’s an hour's walk on a good day, in his current state? He doesn’t want to think about it.

“Where you headed?”

“23rd street.”

The bartender hums, a low and noncommittal sound, as if he’s thinking about it before he replies, “I know it. I’m headed that way, I can drop you off if you can wait a couple minutes?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, like I said, I’m going that way anyway.”

Steve admittedly had not thought this through, accepting a ride from someone who was essentially a stranger, a very charming and admittedly… attractive… stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. The error of this decision only becomes evident to his alcohol infused brain when the bartender, who’s name he has still yet to learn, leads him into the parking lot towards a somewhat questionable looking van that screams serial killer the moment he sets eyes on it.

“Hey, uh, you know what I appreciate the offer but it’s a nice night,” - It’s not, it’s freezing despite being late spring, and the ground is still saturated from the rainfall they’ve had on and off for most of the day- “And I think the walk might sober me up some.”

“It’s the van isn’t it?” The bartender asks, sounding resigned, as if this is a common problem for him. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if it was. The van is old, like really old, older than Steve atleast and painted unflattering shades of brown and beige. It has definitely seen better days, Steve would be surprised if the thing still ran.

“Just a little bit.”

“I get it.” The bartender raises both hands in a gesture of surrender, “No hard feelings, don’t think I’d be too excited to accept a lift from a stranger driving around in this thing either.” He jokes and pats the side of the van for emphasis, “Can I atleast call you a cab? It might be a bit of a wait, but you really shouldn’t be walking around on your own right now and 23rd isn’t exactly close.”

“No, no it’s ok.” Steve assures him and that should be it he should turn around and be on his way, but for reasons Steve doesn’t fully understand he’s not ready to leave just yet, “It’s just- I don’t even know your name.”

“Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.”

“So, Steve,” He says, as if he’s testing out how the name sounds rolling off his tongue, “What’s it gonna be?”

Ah screw it, maybe it’s just the alcohol or maybe he just really really doesn’t want to take that walk after all.

“Promise me you’re not some kind of axe murderer.”

“Scouts honor.” Eddie replies, straight faced and deadly serious as he holds up one hand in a 3 fingered salute.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Eddie’s bright smile returns as he rushes to grab the door handle before Steve can get to it, holding it open and stooping low into a bow with an over the top flourish of his hand, “Your chariot awaits.” He says in a deep and very put upon British accent as if Steve is some kind of prince stepping into his carriage and not just a drunk guy in a downtown Chicago parking lot climbing into a stranger’s rusty old van. If he survives this Robin is never going to let him live it down. Hell, even if he doesn’t survive, he’s sure she’ll find a way to nag him about it in the afterlife.

Surprisingly the van does start, Eddie seems just as shocked about this as Steve does when the engine sputters to life on first try. The sound is quickly drowned out by the music blasting from the stereo. Heavy metal, not exactly Steve’s first choice of music, but it’s better than traveling in awkward silence.

“Sorry,” Eddie apologizes, reaching over to turn the volume down from ear splitting to something a little more tolerable, “I don’t usually have passengers.”

Eddie drives like a maniac. Steve’s grip on the arm rest tightens when they blow through yet another stop sign. Turns out it wasn’t potential axe murderers he should have been worried about, Eddie was going to kill them both with his erratic driving instead.

“How long have you worked at the bar?” Steve asks, trying his best to hide the hitch in his breath when Eddie takes a turn just a little too fast for Steve’s comfort.

“About a year. My band plays there sometimes, then they were hiring and I needed the extra cash, just made sense. It was only ever meant to be temporary, but things didn’t exactly go to plan.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling.” Steve chuckles dryly.

“What do you do for a living?” Eddie returns the question and Steve suddenly finds himself regretting the small talk.

“Um- well I’m a teacher usually. Just qualified a couple years ago but I haven’t exactly had much luck with it so far. I was a teaching aide for a while, few jobs as a substitute, but I’m actually unemployed right now.”

He tries to be nonchalant about it despite the fact he can hear his fathers disappointed voice echoing in his head reminding him of what a failure he’s turned out to be. His parents cut him off a few months after he turned 18, but the lingering effects of their shitty parenting still creep up on him even now.

Teaching was never a path they wanted him to take and there’s a niggling part of him that’s starting to think they were right. He starts at a new school, they keep him on for a month or two as a temp until a position comes available and then they find someone more experienced, with more qualifications and he’s left to start the cycle all over again. He really thought his last school was going to keep him around which had only made it hurt more than usual when they hadn’t called back.

“Lost my job a couple weeks back and I’m still just figuring stuff out I guess.” He explains.

“Shit, that sucks, I’m sorry.” Eddie says, no judgment in his voice, just a warm sincerity that Steve wouldn’t have expected from a near stranger.

“Yeah,” He lets his gaze fall to the window by his side. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the road whilst they were talking and he finds himself in a neighborhood he doesn’t recognize. The van rolls to a stop at the side of the street, “Uh- this isn’t 23rd street.”

“I know, but it was on the way and I gotta drop something off real quick.”

“Oh.” His heart rate picks up a little as he looks at the boarded up building they’ve stopped in front of. There’s nothing else around, and Steve’s mind wanders when he thinks about what business someone could possibly have with what looks like an abandoned building in the middle of the night.

“Just wait there, I won’t be long.”

Steve doesn’t listen.

“I thought I told you to wait in the van?” Eddie asks, startling a little when Steve appears by his side. He doesn’t sound mad, more surprised at Steve’s defiance than anything.

“Figured you might need some help.” He lies.

“Alright, whatever, man,” Eddie concedes, “Here,” He deposits two sealed tins of paint into Steve’s arms, further adding to his confusion. It’s a rather unusual time for interior design.

The place looks like a construction site, or more accurately it is a construction site. The overhead lights aren’t working, but there’s a selection of portable construction lighting scattered around that flickers to life once Eddie flips a switch on the wall using his elbow.

Most of the furniture is covered by dust sheets, including what looks to be a long bar at the back of the room, a little bit of it is poking out from beneath the sheet revealing shiny polished wood. There’s tools scattered everywhere and Steve nearly trips over a stack of lumber as he follows Eddie deeper into the building.

“Ok,” Steve says, head tilted upwards as he takes in everything from the high ceilings to the dusty floor boards which look like they’ve seen better days, “So the van was just pre-game, this is where you actually murder me.”

“You decided to follow me, I told you to stay in the van.”

“What is this place?”

“Welcome to Hellfire,” Eddie sets down the armful of supplies he’d been carrying and turns to face Steve, offering a sweeping gesture towards the space around them, “It’s a bar, or atleast, it will be.”

“Do you work here too or something?” Steve asks, placing down the tins of paint with the rest of the supplies that Eddie has set down.

“Or something.” He perches himself atop the bar, leaving Steve waiting eagerly for a further explanation, “It’s mine. We’re turning it into a music venue. Doesn’t look like much right now, but once the stage is done, lighting is rigged up and the sound system installed. It’s going to be pretty metal.”

Steve looks at him, legs dangling over the edge of the bar not quite reaching the floor, big brown eyes sparkling with excitement and hands gesturing wildly as he explains his plans for the place. A few stray strands of hair have fallen down to frame his face. He doesn’t know how he thought for even a moment that this man could be scary.

“Damn.” He moves over to the bar and hops up to take a seat beside Eddie, maybe a little closer than he should but there’s still too much alcohol running through his system and his spacial awareness isn’t exactly what it should be at the moment, “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“I wish. I’ve been sinking every dime that I earn into this place for the past 3 years and it still looks like this.” He’s got a point, an up and coming new music venue was not Steve’s first thought when they walked through the door, “But, enough of that.” Eddie says, slapping his hands down onto both of his thighs and cutting the conversation much shorter than Steve would like it to be, “You know my story, I want to know yours. Specifically what led you to drinking the night away all alone in a bar at 2am.”

Steve does not feel like this is exactly a fair trade off, but he indulges anyway, deciding to blame the alcohol. It’s a technique which has been working for him so far tonight so why stop now?

“Breakup.” It feels like explanation enough and he doesn’t really feel like trauma dumping all of the reasons leading up to that moment on a stranger tonight.

“Figured,” Eddie replies, then points to the scrunchy wrapped around Steve’s wrist, “Purple isn’t really your color.”

“3 months of my life and this is all I’ve got left to show for it.” He takes it off his wrist and holds it up to the light to inspect it closer. It’s a light purple, more of a lilac really, printed with little white and yellow daisies.

“What’re you going to do with it?” Eddie asks, his head tilting in Steve’s direction as he joins him in inspecting the object in question.

“Keep it.” Steve states as if it’s obvious.

“Do you keep things from all of your relationships?”

“Every single one.” There’s no verbal response, but he feels the pair of eyes boring into his skull, a sensation he’s become all too familiar with ever since he met Robin and her scathing glares, “What? You’ve never kept something from a past relationship?”

“No. Maybe, a little thing or two, but not from every single relationship I’ve ever had.”

There’s an assortment of heavy looking silver rings adorning the hand Eddie uses to take the hair tie. His grip is gentle and Steve is sure he could stop him if he wanted to, snatch it back and stuff it into his pocket, he doesn’t think Eddie would put up a fight. Instead he sits there and lets him take it. Once he’s claimed his prize Eddie is on his feet, moving through the cluttered space, for what reason Steve can’t quite figure out.

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking.”

“For what?”

“The perfect spot,” Says Eddie, right as his eyes lock onto a section of wall right behind what looks to be the beginnings of the stage and hangs the scrunchie from a loose nail, “There, perfect!”

“What do you mean perfect?”

“The perfect spot for it.” Eddie says, shrugging his shoulders, “Don’t you like it? Don’t you feel lighter?”

“I- I kind of…do. I like it.”

“Wait! Hang on, I’ve got an idea.”

Eddie disappears for a second, digging through some of the mess until he returns with a marker and hands it to Steve who looks between it and Eddie with a furrowed brow.

“What am I meant to do with this?” Steve asks.

“Write something, vent, get it out of your system.” Eddie encourages, gesturing animatedly towards the wall with both hands, “What’s her name?”

“Heidi,” Steve says, uncapping the pen and beginning to scribble on the wall next to the scrunchie.

‘Heidi,

She left me for her ex

3 months, Chicago’

It feels good, in a cathartic kind of way.

“Why don’t you leave it here?”

Steve contemplates it for a moment, uncertainty creeping up his spine, “I don’t know.”

“It’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll take good care of it,” Eddie assures him, “Learn to let go.”

“Alright, fine, you win.” He cracks just the hint of a smile and Eddie gives him a firm pat on the shoulder, steering him towards the exit likely so he doesn’t have time to change his mind.

It’s only a short drive from Eddie’s bar to Steve’s apartment building, they don’t talk much for most of it beyond Steve offering directions once they get closer.

“Here we are, your castle awaits.” Eddie announces as he puts the van into park. He’s a dork, but that only piques Steve’s curiosity more. Eddie might be the most interesting person he’s met in years.

“Thank you, for everything,” Steve says, not sure how to properly express his gratitude he grabs his wallet from his back pocket, “Here let me give you something for the trouble. I know gas isn’t cheap.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie refuses, pushing away the 10 dollars Steve is trying to hand to him, “The scrunchie was payment enough.”

“Alright,” Steve gives in, struggling to tuck his wallet away. He hesitates at the open door, looking over his shoulder at Eddie before he leaves, “For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you didn’t turn out to be a murderer.”

Eddie laughs, a full bellied peel of laughter, “Go home, Steve.”

Steve pauses at the apartment door, Eddie is still in the van and he offers him a wiggle of his fingers as a goodbye then immediately regrets it when a wave of embarrassment washes over him. Eddie seems to get a kick out of it though judging by the smile on his face.

Master Post ~ Chapter 2>

#steddiebigbang23 #a home for broken hearts #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #teacher!steve harrington #bartender!eddie munson #broken hearts gallery au #stranger things

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betrothed2another · 3 years ago

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Would You... Like To Dance? || Bruno Madrigal x Fem Reader

ahh !! its my first ever x reader fic in years, and ofc its bruno, because who doesn’t adore bruno? feedback is much appreciated, and if you have any requests or want me to make a second part, please let me know !!

word count: 2.1k any warnings: nope! just fluff! plot: just a cute little scene from when bruno first met you!

It was a beautiful summer evening, with a sky full of stars and the air warm and comforting, when Bruno Madrigal first met you personally.

Now, don’t get him wrong - he’s certainly seen you before, once or twice. He remembers seeing you run about through town, sewing needles in your hand and fabric strapped to your back as you fulfilled orders for intricate skirts and helped to hem any frayed edges of those who needed the help. A talented seamstress, you were. Very rarely did he go into town - too many damn stairs in his room - but when he did, he found himself unconsciously seeking out your bright laughter from down the street, before he was inevitably dragged back to Casita to perform his daily fortune-telling duties. He’d never actually strapped up the courage to talk to you, of course, much to his sisters’ blend of annoyance and delight at the teasing possibilities.

But now? Now you were here, your dress the color of clear skies and your hair bouncing as you danced on the stones of the Casita, the festivities leaving you feeling energetic and joyful, and Bruno’s hands felt clammy just watching you amongst the other partygoers, watching and waiting.

It was the first Gift ceremony in 28 years. Isabela Madrigal, firstborn grandchild of the Madrigal family, was to receive her gift in a few short minutes.

The entire family was incredibly high-strung, and has been for the better part of a week now, leading up to Isabela’s 5th birthday. His Mamá, for starters, was ensuring everything about this night would go smoothly - it had been quite a while since anybody received a gift, after all. It was best Bruno kept himself, and his gift, out of the way for the night, to let Isabela shine on her perfect night.

And a perfect night it was - the perfect temperature, no bad weather (other than Pepa and her worrying, as Dolores would be turning five in just a few short months as well), and the party was going amazing.

At least Bruno just thought it was amazing. The music was loud and jovial. Anybody who seemed wary of him kept their distance or ignored him, and nobody else seemed to mind his presence. The chicharrones were pretty great. And, okay, obviously, the beautiful seamstress from the village was twirling about nearby the stairs.

She was gorgeous. Her smile alone lit up the Casita, dark sky be damned. Her dress was skillfully sewn, and she just held this.. This air about her that had Bruno feeling light on his feet, and–

“You’re staring, parcero.”

Bruno nearly jumped ten feet in the air, quickly swiveling around to reveal Félix, his brother-in-law with a grin on his face that meant trouble. Bruno cleared his throat, “Uh, you– Uh. Whaaat?” Good save, Bruno, good save. “I’m not staring, where did you, uh, ever get that idea? I’m just.. Enjoyin’ the party! See?” One of the volunteers for the party, carrying around sweets on a plate, passed by at the perfect time, allowing for Bruno to pluck a few off and shove them in his mouth unceremoniously. “Having the time of my life!”

Félix was unconvinced. If anything, he just smiled wider.

Damn it.

“You’re staring, parcero.” Félix repeated. He reached over and lightly jostled Bruno’s thin frame, causing him to cringe, a flush rising high on his face. “Look at you! You’re totally staring at–”

“Shh!” Bruno flapped his hand to try and beg, really, for Félix to shut up. “I’m not.. Okay, I’m staring a little bit. But you don’t need to tell the whole world that, please!”

“Who would’ve thought Y/N would’ve captured your interest, eh, hermano?” Félix patted him on the back, completely ignoring the way Bruno’s ears turned bright pink. Y/N. That was her name. He turned back to look at you, chatting your way through the party, so bright and friendly. His heart seized up. “Do you plan on asking her to dance?”

Startled out of his thoughts, Bruno stammered, “Well, I, uh, I’m not totally sure she’d want to dance with me–”

“Nonsense! She’d be foolish to not wanna dance with THE Bruno Madrigal!”

Was he being sarcastic? He couldn’t tell. “You–”

The music tapered off, causing both men to turn their attention to the one and only Mamá Madrigal, now Abuela Madrigal. Silence overtook the party, all eyes on the matriarch of the family as she began her speech, in preparation for Isabela’s arrival.

“33 years ago, we were all given a miracle. A miracle that blessed us with the opportunity to give back to our community…”

The ceremony went flawlessly. Isabela, nervous as she may be, was blessed with a staggeringly beautiful new bedroom, adorned from ceiling to floor in flowers, as perfect as she usually proved to be. The entire room was alight with celebration - the music was moved to allow Isa dance in her brand new flowery room, the rest of the partygoers filing in to join in on the fun. After the family photo was taken - and after Julieta pulled him in for a quick dance, absolutely brimming with joy - he slowly drifted off towards the side of the room, eyeing the dance floor for the splash of blue he’d found himself admiring not too long ago.

But Y/N was nowhere to be seen.

Bruno’s shoulders deflated some. She must have left. Or she’d somehow heard him and Félix speaking, and she’d been scared away - no doubt she would be, he was Bruno Madrigal, after all. Bringer of bad luck to all. Why wouldn’t she be so–

“Tío Bruno?” A tiny squeak from next to him startled him out of his thoughts. He whipped his head around, heart pounding, to find little Dolores, shyly staring at her feet.

God, this family needs bells strapped to them, how do they keep sneaking up on me? Bruno thought, before his face softened a little and he got down to his knees to match Dolores’ height, just shy of 5 years old and a quiet little one. “Hey, chiquita– What’s going on?”

“I.. I, um, I was listenin’ when you and Papá were talking.” She spoke softly, Bruno having to strain to hear her over the music. “Senorita Y/N is outside in the front lawn.”

Bruno blinked. Clever girl.

“Oh. She is, is she? Well, that’s–”

“She thinks you’re cute!” She blurted out, seemingly without thinking. Before he could ask how she knew, she quickly murmured, “I was listenin’ to her too. When she was talking with Mamá.”

He can already imagine what her gift will be.

“I… Thank you, chiquita. That’s.. Good to know.” Very good to know, actually. His heart was pounding in his chest, a small bit of confidence surging through him. You thought he was cute. Nobody thought he was cute before. Dolores, who seemed to have completed whatever mission she set out to accomplish, flashed him a smile before running off to dance with her cousins and other kids of the village.

Bruno ran off, as well, before his nerves could drag him back down again, off to find the beautiful girl he’d been so infatuated with, just by seeing you.

—

You were outside, just as Dolores had said.

Your chest rose and fell as you laid out on the grass, a little more than overwhelmed with the party. Small, cramped spaces and all that. Besides, you were a little winded from all the dancing, and your knees were feeling a little weak. Or was that from the handsome man you’d caught looking at you more than once during the party?

Bruno Madrigal. The handsome man everyone always warned you about.

You’d never gone to meet him personally for a fortune - you were usually busy with your craft, after all. But you’d heard plenty, plenty of stories from word of mouth. He was creepy, looming over his subjects with a terrifying gleam in his eyes. He brought bad luck to whoever asked their fortune, within a few weeks of being read. He was a recluse, hiding out in his tower all the time.

All those stories seemed a lot less plausible now that you had a good look at him. The only word that you could bring to your mind to describe him was… cute.

But you couldn’t think of a reason why he would look in your direction. You hadn’t been doing anything out of the ordinary, had you? You were just dancing - maybe you looked like a fool while you did it. You sure did have two left feet when you were younger, maybe that hadn’t gone away. Was it your dress? Your hair?

“Ughhh.” You cupped both of your hands over your face. It was not like you at all to overthink things when it came to a man. In all your 25 years, you’d never had any interest in anybody other than finding the occasional customer attractive, but now that you've seen him… Your palms were sweaty and your heart was thudding up against your ribcage like a fool.

“Are you.. Not enjoying the party?”

You swiftly sat up, bright eyes wide, hair swishing from side to side as you looked for the source of the noise. Turns out, it was from behind out. And it was Bruno. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you heard me coming out here, but then again, the music is kinda loud and you can still hear it all the way out here, and you seemed distracted, I’m sorry, I’ll just– head out. Yeah.”

You didn’t even know what to say. Bruno was right there, in front of you! Backing away! Talk to him, you fool! “You didn’t scare me! I just wasn’t expecting it.” You sent him a reassuring smile, stopping him in his tracks. “You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

Thankfully, that seemed to keep him around. His shoulders - which were tense, you now noticed - slowly relaxed. “So, are you not enjoying the party?” He repeated, slowly approaching again, fingers playing with the frayed edges of his ruana.

“No, no, I am! It’s a very great party, your family sure knows how to put together a celebration.” You were quiet for a moment, and shrugged. “Just a little overwhelming, I suppose.”

“I get it. I’m not exactly a party person myself. My mere presence is being a party pooper.”

You giggled, and you saw his face soften significantly in response. “That’s not true. You seemed to be having fun, from what I could tell.”

Bruno’s face reddening made you smile wider. “You– You were watching me?”

“As much as you were watching me.”

Bruno groaned and covered his face in embarrassment. “You caught that?! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. That was really creepy of me, I hadn’t meant to stare so long. You were just very pretty! And you–”

You were standing up before you realized it, closing the distance between the both of you and gently taking hold of his hands to move them off of his face, taking a moment to admire the slope of his nose, the fuzz of his beard, his gorgeous doe eyes. You were smitten. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute.”

Bruno stared, open vulnerability on his face like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. His eyes flickered down to your lips before quickly moving back up, swallowing past the lump formed in his throat. “Would you.. Like to dance?” Bruno had been right earlier - the music was plenty loud enough for all to hear, even outside on the front lawn.

You didn’t even think about it before wrapping your arms around his neck, his hands coming to join at your waist, puzzle pieces locking together. “I’d love to.”

It took a little bit of foot shuffling to really get your rhythm, to find what worked for both of you, but once you got the hang of it, you lost track of time curled against Bruno’s chest, arms keeping you secure. Your dancing was full of laughter, as he murmured jokes and anecdotes against your ear while you did the same to him. For god knows how long - enough time for non-family members to stream out of Casita and head home - you danced together, with the promise of something more on your fingertips when you held hands. You’d danced until Pepa’s, a firm believer in beauty sleep, voice called out from the doors of the house broke the two of you apart, “Lovebirds! You’re going to catch a cold, save the kisses for morning, will you?!”

The both of you were silent, until fits of laughter ran through the both of you. Before Bruno could reconsider, he took your hands and pulled you back in, your lips meeting in the middle.

It was like magic, his lips against yours.

“Y/N, will you let me walk you home?” He whispered against your lips, eyes full of hope.

And how could you ever say no to that?

#my writing #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno x reader #bruno madrigal x y/n #bruno x y/n #bruno madrigal #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #dolores madrigal #isabela madrigal #my first fic !! wahoo #encanto #encanto (2021)

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side-blog-blahblah · 4 years ago

Text

×Bokuto x short, f!reader×

•– Heads empty. Only Bokuto horny in my mind.

Your parents wanted to meet your boyfriend, so they organized a dinner at a fancy restaurant. You and your parents were suppose to meet up with Bokuto in front of the restaurant.

Obviously, you dress up for the occasion. Being a short girl have its perks, so you put on high heels and a short dress, to make your legs longer. Struggling with the zipper in the back, you groan, knowing that your bust had grown a little bit more since you wore that dress.

"Need help, honey?"

Oh, your mom. Nodding, she helped you, and the zipper finally went up until your neck. Looking at yourself at the mirror, you snapped a pic. Looking good, you approve it, and send it to Bokuto.

"Do you like it?"

"I like you better without the dress. The heels stay on"

"Bokuto, damn, not now. We have a dinner"

"Yeah yeah, I'm just waiting, babe"

He was not "just waiting". He was nervous. And now with a boner in his suit pants. Wearing a grey suit, with a white blouse and a yellow tie, the man was seated alone, in his room. Groaning to himself when he got up, he went to the bathroom, and snapped a picture. A simple picture. Just him, his blouse unbuttoned showing off his abbs, and dick in hand. A pretty picture for you to see.

And you did see the picture. Just as you were exiting your house, you went to Bokuto's chat, to inform him. That your parents and you are on the way to the restaurant. And you saw that. It was driving you crazy, already. Big, veiny dick. Trimmered in his base, but a bit longer hair, just to show off that "sometimes, the mountain will look big even with the forest at its base".

"Dear, you good?"

"Yes dad, no prob"

You smiled at your dad, cringing inside because of what was displaying in the screen of your phone. Texting Bokuto's a fast "We're on the way", you locked the phone and put it in your purse.

Times fly, and before you could tell, Bokuto was quick to salute your parents, grabbing their hands. And, now that you recall, you were at Bokuto's side, eating a plate of some frayed meat. Bokuto's hand never leaving your thighs, and you sigh, nervously.

Kotarou usually do that when you two are everywhere. Grabbing your thighs was his favourite hobby, aside from touching your chest. But, he knows what he was doing, and you know it too. He wanted to finger you, in the dinner, in front of your parents.

Red covered your face, and you dismissed the preocupied face of your mother with a cute "Bo's looking so handsome", and she giggle, like a teen girl. Internally, you hope that she doesn't notice.

Breathing and eating was becoming a difficult task with Bokuto's skilled fingers in your pussy. Touching your labia, playing with your clit, and sometimes inserting a finger in your vagina, you wonder how he learned to be so good.

Eating the plate, you noted something about the food. It was a little bit bland. Looking up for the saltshaker, you notice it was out of your reach.

"Daddy, can you pass me the salt?"

"No problem babe"/"Yes, honey"

No. That did not happen. That did not just happen. Your dad went to reach the saltshaker, at the same time as Bokuto's. Your mother laughing like crazy. And the worst part was... Bokuto's hand, the one that were moments before in your pussy, was now touching you dad's hand.

Blushing a little, Bokuto's retracted his hand, letting your father to pass you the salt. Now a furious look in his eyes. Your mother smiling non-stop at you both. And Bokuto, simply, was eating his food. With his hand in your pussy, of course.

The rest of the dinner were your mother asking Bokuto's about his hobbies, his job as a Volleyball pro, and how he maintains the relationship you two have. You have been together for two years, almost three now.

"So, when are you planning in give me some granchildren?"

That was the last straw. You coughed the sweet tiramisu, and Bokuto smiled.

"Oh, ma 'am, we are not planing that" answered Bo

"You can't tell me after the salt scene, Bokuto", this time, it was your dad responding

"I am very interested in Volleyball right now, and I want my beautiful girlfriend to end what she was doing. I planned to support her with the money I gain from volleyball, so she doesn't have to worry about working her beautiful ass out"

"Kotarou! Please, excuse him"

"No no, let him speak"

"That's it, Bokuto Kotarou is dead" you thought, and the glares that your dad had confirmed your theory. Meanwhile, you couldn't even finish your tiramisu in peace. It was Bokuto's fingers again in your area. Deciding to extend the time until you finished with an orgasm on his fingers, he ordered another pudding, saying that it reming him of a friend.

Finally, your chased orgasm came, and you closed your eyes, inhale, and tried to hide the intense wave of pleasure that was consuming your entire body. And you opened your eyes. A side glance from Bokuto, knowing that he did good, and you did too. Licking his spoon with a flirty look towards you, until the silverware was clean.

"Well, we ended here. Are you ready to go?" asked Bokuto

"Yes, Ko, we can go now"

"Oh, the two of you together? I think not" objected your dad, but your mom was quick to intervene

"Dear, you and I were the same. They are in his twenties, she is not your little girl anymore"

"Yeah"

"Goodbye, mom, goodbye dad"

"Goodbye, honey. Pleasure to meet you, Bokuto"

"The pleasure is all mine"

And, Bokuto waited until you were out of the restaurant, to look directly at your dad's eyes, and said

"It's MY little girl now"

#bokuto koutarou smut #Bokuto x reader #Bokuto x reader smut #Bokuto kotarou #Bokuto smut #haikyuu x reader #smut haikyuu #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years ago

Text

Inspired by 9-1-1 (on Fox), which is my current obsession. I highly recommend checking it out and it’s spin-off series 9-1-1: Lonestar. If you already like 9-1-1 and Buddie (Buck and Eddie) then you should check out my new main account @therogueheart. Liberty has been taken with protocols and practices here, but the land of fiction knows no rules.

Firefighter!Tony x Civilian!Peter.

TW: Age difference | Under-negotiated sexual content | Unrealistic practises

“NYFD! We’re evacuating the block!”

“NYFD, are any residents present?”

Peter jerked awake to loud yelling and incessant pounding on his door, flailing blearily in bed for a moment before he fell off the side of in a heap of limbs and bedding, scrambling to get upright.

He shrugged on a hoodie and tripped into a pair of combat boots, stumbling his way sleepily to the door. He was operating on barely five hours of sleep and felt every hour he was sorely missing - though his midterms were a good enough reason to burn the midnight oil.

He wrenched the door open just as a firefighter on the other side went to swing the breach ram into it, letting out a squeak of panic as it stopped mere inches from his belly. The man wielding it was huge; with short blond hair and shoulders that could fit a person comfortably on either side.

“That was close, I could’ve ruptured your entire torsal cavity and killed you!” the firefighter boomed cheerfully, straightening up with a broad, dazzling smile. Peter let out a faint noise and did his best not to pass out, sagging against the doorframe and gripping it.

He was wide fucking awake now, that was for sure.

“My name is Thor, I’m with the NYPD, Manhattan division. We’re evacuating the block, there’s been a gas leak on the lower and mid levels and there’s risk of combustion,” the man ordered, slinging the ram over his shoulder and gesturing to the hallway. Peter could hear other voices, all similar conversations amidst the yells of NYPD, open up!

“Uh,” was all Peter got out before he was being ushered out of his doorway. Firefighter Thor nudged him several steps forwards before Peter’s brain finally came online and he jerked to a stop.

“Wait! I need my Adderall and my phone! If I don’t call Aunt May she’s gonna kill me and if I don’t take my meds I’m gonna be screwed!”

Thor looked undecided, brows pinching. “You shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay, Thor. Move onto the North quadrant; I’ll stay with this one,” came a voice from behind them and Peter turned, shrinking in on himself a little.

Illuminated in the crappy hallway lighting was a man who looked like he’d stepped straight off a movie billboard. He wasn’t as tall or the same brand of clean-cut Hollywood handsome that Thor was, but he was just as attractive. More so, if Peter was going to acknowledge his tendency to lust after men twice or even thrice his age.

The man had black hair swept into a neat side-leaning quiff, a hint of salt and pepper at his temples. His facial hair had been styled in a way that ought to look ridiculous but only served to give him a unique, sharp look, accentuating the shape of his jaw.

The man winked at him and Peter realised he’d been staring. When he glanced to the side Thor had already moved off out of sight and the firefighter left behind gestured to Peter’s door, which was thankfully still open ajar from where he’d been rushed out.

“Uh, thanks. Thank you...Sir? Officer?” he cringed at his own awkwardness, shuffling past. The man looked amused, quirking a brow and pursing his lips a little, even as something indescribable flashed in his eyes.

“Sir works just fine, if that’s your thing. But for the record - I’m Captain Stark. Pretty boys get to call me Tony, though,” the man winked again, teasing seeping into his voice as Peter flushed and beelined for his bed, grabbing his phone from it’s charger and scooping up his bill box and keys.

He lamented not being able to grab anything else, but he knew better than to put himself (and someone else) at risk by lingering. Tony ushered him out of the door with a hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the stairwell. Peter could hear noises and voices on the lower levels but realised with surprise that they were the only two left on the topmost floor.

“You were dead to the world, kid. Thor was banging on your door like crazy. We almost gave you up for not in,” Tony voiced, seemingly understanding his realisation. Peter flushed again and mumbled something about studying, hurrying down the stairs as quickly as he could, Tony a close and solid presence at his back.

It wasn’t until the cool, outside air hit his legs that he realised he was still only wearing a thin hoodie and the shorts he’d gone to sleep in. He shivered in dismay, wrapping his arms around himself. He wasn’t the only one who’d clearly been dragged out of bed - there were people milling around in robes and pyjama sets.

One poor man was even shivering in a ratty blanket, suds dripping from his hair and into his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, doing his best to stop his teeth from chattering.

“Residents on the lower levels reported strong smells of sulphur and gas. We think it’s a line rupture or faulty heater somewhere. Full evac is protocol until we know for sure and can get started on a fix,” the fire Captain answered, steering him a little away from the main crowd and to one of the trucks.

“Take a seat, kid,” Tony offered, gesturing to the step-up of the truck. Peter did, flinching as his bare skin met the icy metal. The man left him there, turning away to resume his role as he barked orders and disappeared off into the fray. Peter busied himself with his phone, only looking up when Tony’s voice boomed out over the crowd sometime later.

“Alright, everybody listen up!” the man yelled, clapping his hands. “We’ve located the source of the gas and the good news is that it’s a relatively easy fix. The bad news is that it’ll take a minimum of four hours. In the name of safety, none of you can return to the building until it’s deemed safe to do so. Your landlord and building technicians will get in contact as soon as they’ve been given the okay for you to return home. In the meantime, I suggest you go visit friends, family, or find a nice coffee shop while you wait!”

An immediate chorus of groans, complaints and angry remarks bubbled up, the firefighters all doing their best to marshal the situation and contain the displeasure. Peter shuffled where he sat, chewing his lower lip in frustration.

Aunt May was half a city away and on shift; Ned was visiting his Grandma and MJ’s girlfriend had stayed the night, meaning if Peter valued his eyes he couldn’t show up at her door.

Which meant he was probably going to spend the next four hours shivering at a Starbucks and studying on his phone.

Great.

“You good, kid?” the voice was joined by a pair of turnout clad legs and Peter looked up, tossing his phone between his hands. Out in the natural light Captain Stark was even more handsome, a strange mix between rugged and polished.

“Um, yeah. Just...Trying to decide which coffee shop I’m gonna move into,” he sighed, offering a weak smile. The Captain looked thoughtful.

“Little thing like you, Mom and Dad weren’t just out getting milk?” his tone was teasing but curious. Peter shook his head.

“Uh, no. I don’t...I did live with my Aunt. But I graduated highschool early and got a scholarship for the Manhattan Institute of Advanced Sciences. That shitty little studio is all mine,” he rattled the keys in his pocket and shifted. His butt had warmed the step some, but it still wasn’t exactly comfortable.

As if sensing his discomfort the man shifted, peeling himself out of the huge, heavy turnout jacket. “Here, sit up a little,” the man coaxed, crouching down. Peter found himself enveloped in the jacket as Captain Stark wrapped it around him and tucked it under his ass and thighs, pulling it shut so it cocooned him in the heat.

It smelt of soap and aftershave and maybe a little bit of sweat, and Peter found himself relaxing immediately, giving a hum of pleased satisfaction.

Tony was smiling at him when he opened his eyes again and he flushed, saved from embarrassment by a tall, lithe man approaching.

“Cap, we got ‘em all squared. Company is on the way for the fix. The one-five-nine offered to stay and play babysitter. We’re clear to move out.” The man had a purple band-aid on his right brow and did a double-take when he looked down at Peter. “We get a new recruit, Cap?”

Captain Stark looked thoughtfully between Peter and the man, fingers curling around his waistband.

“Alright. Barton, round up the others, call to move out. Have the one-five-nine use radio line six if they need us. We’re bringing back a station puppy.”

‘Barton’ glanced at Peter again, eyes raking over him before he did something between a smile and a smirk. “Copy that,” he confirmed, spinning on his heel and jogging off.

“Huh?” was all Peter could think to say.

“You’ve got nowhere better to go and you’ll freeze without getting changed. I’ve got some spare clothes at the station and you can hole up on the couch until we get the go-ahead to send you home. Rogers can cook, so let’s see if we can’t put a good breakfast in that belly,” Tony responded, nudging him up and out of the way so he could open the truck door.

And that was how Peter found himself wedged into the truck with Clint Barton, Thor Odinson and Steve Rogers. They crammed a spare headset on him and grilled him on student life as they drove, Captain Stark chiming in from the front of the truck.

The station they pulled into was huge, newly renovated and vast. Firefighter Thor set two hands on his hips, lifting him out of the truck easily and setting him down on the floor, ruffling his hair before dogpiling onto Steve, both of them stumbling and grappling away, arguing in snippets about door breaches.

A little dazed, he startled when a hand fell to his back again and turned, flushing when Captain Stark smirked at him and nudged him towards the locker room. The others were already there, stripping out of their turnouts and talking animatedly.

Peter was divested of the jacket but was given a thicker, warmer hoodie emblazoned with ‘NYPD’ and ‘Stark’, the older man rooting around in a locker for a moment before producing a pair of sweats.

They were baggy but he double-tied them and rolled up the ankles and found them more than comfortable, shyly thanking the man. Tony was watching him, eyes dark again with that hidden thought, before he seemingly shook himself out of it and herded Peter towards a set of steps.

Upstairs was a kitchen space and a small common area with two couches and a TV. Barton immediately handed him a steaming mug of herbal tea and Captain Stark ushered him to the table and after several minutes of sitting in their midst and listening to firefighting stories, Steve placed a plate of toast, beans, bacon and eggs under his nose.

“Eat it before Barton mauls you for it,” Steve advised with a grin, sinking into the seat opposite him and stretching out, one arm slung around the back of Thor’s chair. Peter took the warning and dug in, shamelessly moaning at the taste. The eggs had been seasoned and there was something in the butter on the toast that made it rich and almost a little salty.

“Better than sex, huh kid?” Tony teased from his side and Clint gasped, throwing his hands over Peter’s ears.

“He doesn’t know what that is yet!”

After breakfast he was bundled onto the couch, handed a mug of tea to keep his hands warm and the remote to the TV as the others stomped down the staircase, citing organising their gear.

The alarm blared out as he was watching a nature documentary and he leaned over the balcony rail just in time to watch them leaping into the truck, flushing as the Captain shot him a wink before shutting the truck door, it’s sirens wailing and lights flashing as it pulled out of the bay.

They weren’t gone that long, but when the truck pulled back into the bay it was covered in dust and dirt.

He padded down the staircase, pulling on the sleeves of his hoodie as he watched them all descend from the vehicle. They looked a little dusty and grimy, but otherwise unharmed.

“Winch rescue up on the hiking trails,” Clint informed him as he jogged past, beelining for a room just past the lockers. “I’ve got dust in places it doesn't belong!”

The worst of them all was Steve, who’d apparently tripped over the winch line and gone tumbling down the hillside. He was largely unhurt, but he was also the last one out of the showers thanks to needing some extra scrubbing.

“C’mon, kid. Time to earn your keep,” Tony teased once they were clean and dressed in LAFD shorts and shirts. They were filling buckets and bringing out plastic boxes full of soaps and polish, and he almost whimpered when he realised they were going to clean the truck.

He was practically living a piece of fanfiction.

Or torture. Either one was applicable.

It took exactly ten minutes for someone to lose their shirt. Peter didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that it was Steve, who flexed his pecs with a wink when he caught Peter staring. As if not to be outdone, Thor immediately tugged his shirt over his head, baring an even bigger, beefier torso that fed the red flames burning up Peter’s cheeks.

“Alright, show offs. Stop preening and get cleaning,” Tony barked at them good-naturedly, rolling his eyes as he handed Peter a sponge and flicked suds at the two taller blonds, who pulled faces but dove into the work with vigor.

In an attempt to cool down his embarrassment he turned his attention to the truck, scrubbing gently in broad circles to match what the others were doing. He’d never realised just how big firetrucks were and he wondered idly how often they had to do this.

“Hey, shortstack, you wanna be on top?”

“Excuse me?” Peter squeaked, rounding on Captain Stark, who smirked at him and gestured to the roof of the truck and the little side ladder.

“On the roof. Tends to get gritty up there,” the man drawled, eyeing him in thinly veiled amusement. It had to be on purpose, Peter realised. Especially when he moved to the side ladder and a set of rough hands wrapped around his hips, boosting him up several rungs.

He settled down to scrub, listening to the soundtrack of the station and the men below, peering over the edge now and then to watch them or to join in the conversation. It was dizzying - having them all grinning up at him, sunny and sparkling and half-naked.

Mercifully, there wasn’t too much more teasing as they scrubbed and buffed and wiped. He wasn’t sure his cheeks could take getting any hotter - but then, where safer to combust but in the middle of a firehouse?

Captain Stark helped him down from the roof again with the same hold around his hips, thumbs rubbing brief circles along the ridges of the bones before the man stepped aside with a quirked smile.

“Hungry, kid?”

“If I don’t get fed soon I might start chewing off my own foot,” he harrumphed with a grin, ducking his head when Clint barked a laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Kid after my own stomach,” the man drawled, taking the steps three at a time in a way that Peter and his short legs watched enviously.

Lunch was buffet bits like potato chips and little sponge-cake fingers and fruit, which Peter didn’t mind at all. He threw grapes into Clint’s mouth and arm-wrestled Steve and deliberately paid no attention at all to where Captain Stark’s leg pressed against his own under the table.

In the grand five hour total that he was there they got called out twice more, once for a tree rescue (a man who’d tried to save money by cutting his own yard tree, not a cat, much to Peter’s disappointment) and a small kitchen fire that left them bitching for a full hour afterwards about how people needed to stop trying to be Gordon Ramsey when they could barely cook packet ramen.

And then, just when the others were beginning to get shift about nearing their time to come off rotation, Peter’s phone rang.

It was his landlord, sounding gruff and disinterested as he informed Peter the apartment had been deemed safe to re-enter, although all aparts were going to be required to keep their gas appliances off for the night and their windows open.

The others had stopped milling around in the locker room and listened in with thinly concealed interest, offering nods and smiles when it was revealed Peter was safe to hit home.

“Just on time, huh?” Steve beamed at him, ruffling his hair.

“Aw, man. Do we have to give him back?” Clint whined in protest, swooping down to wrap himself around Peter like a clingy mink shrug. Peter giggled, tucking himself into the hold and putting on a pretend pout.

Truthfully; he didn’t want to leave. At first he’d been apprehensive about being stuck in a building with a bunch of strange men, but over the course of the day he’d come to cherish their family dynamic and the easy, comfortable companionship.

“You knew he was on loan, you layabouts,” Tony chastised them fondly, rolling his eyes. When his crew had been bullied into resuming their prep to leave, Captain Stark sank onto the bench next to Peter.

“You want a ride back, kid? I live past that area anyway and it’s my fault you’re so far out from home,” he noted with a warm smile, tugging on a boot and stooping to lace it.

Peter bit at his lower lip. Technically; he should say no. He didn’t actually know this man, and being a firefighter meant nothing for how trustworthy he was.

But…

“You don’t mind?” he asked lightly.

“It would be Captain’s honor,” Thor assured him with a wink. And that was that, the others finished dressed and they moved out to the parking lot as a herd, Peter trailing awkwardly along behind Tony towards a sleek, red and gold Audi.

He was hugged and ruffled and treated to a sizable farewell from the others, each of them pointedly telling him not to be a stranger as they piled into their vehicles and drove off in a cloud of muted music and squealing tyres.

When he turned around Tony had slipped over to the car and stood with the passenger door open, stooped into a half bow.

The interior was crisp and clean and smelt like fresh linen when he sank into the seat, tucking his legs in carefully. Tony slid into the driver’s side like he lived to be behind the wheel of a flashy car, slipping on a dark pair of shades and letting his window slide down.

Tony switched radio on to a smooth rock station and Peter let himself relax in the seat, phone still clutched carefully in hand just in case, but thoroughly enjoying the rumble of the car and the way Tony looked behind the wheel.

They didn’t speak much on the way but Peter snuck several glances at the other man, shivering through a bolt of unsteady heat each time Tony caught the motion and tipped his head, smirking at him from behind those shaded lenses.

The apartment building loomed up on them far too soon, signalling the end of a day Peter was confident he’d keep in his memories right up until his last breath.

(And if it tempted him to maybe one day set fire to his kitchen a little bit, well.)

Tony pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot, leaning casually back in his seat.

“Maybe you should, um, check my apartment?”

It took Peter a moment to realise he was the one who’d spoken, mortified as Tony pushed down his shades to peer at him over the rims with an arched brow.

“To, uh, um…” Peter squirmed on his seat, doing his best not to think about how it was the other man’s clothes he was wearing. “Make sure it’s safe. I mean, I’ve built up a little trust. With you. Who knows if the other guys missed something?”

And what he wouldn’t give for a sinkhole to just swallow him up right then.

But to his surprise Captain Stark just peered at him for another moment, then smiled. “Sure thing, kid. The other’s’d never forgive me anyway if I let you die off in the night.”

With cheeks hot enough to sear a steak, Peter slipped out of the car and practically ran for the building, hyper aware of Tony’s presence beside him as they ascended the steps. God, he was so fucking stupid. Tony was probably going to poke around the apartment a little, open the window then skip on back home and tell his wife all about the strange kid he’d had to babysit all day.

His hands were shaking as he unlocked his door but if the man noticed he said nothing, stepping in behind him and pushing the door gently shut. Peter toed off his boots by the door and turned, watching the man roam the apartment, sniffing here and there and opening the window in the kitchenette.

“Hey, come here,” Tony’s voice called when he was plugging his phone in. Jamming the cord into the device, he bounced out of the room and slid to a halt next to Tony, who held a hand out to steady him. “Do you feel that?”

“What?” Peter asked in confusion, head tilting.

“Sexual tension,” Tony grinned at him, winking terribly.

“Wha-- Oh,” Peter rocked back on his heels, cheeks blazing.

“You’re not subtle, kid. I got ribbed the whole day out over it,” Tony teased him, reaching out to ever so gently tuck one of Peter’s mahogany curls behind his ear.

“Sorry?” Peter tried, fingers curling around the cuffs of his - Tony’s - hoodie.

“I know a way you can make it up to me,” the only man purred, leaning in a little closer. And then all at once he softened, head tilting a little. “Only, of course, if you want to.”

“Aren’t you… Married?” Peter asked hesitantly, even as his heart kicked up a notch and heat gave a lazy spark between his lips. Tony’s brows shot towards his hairline.

“Not since I last checked, no,” Tony answered, sounding terribly amused. “Where did you get that thought?”

And oh, no. The last thing Peter was going to do was tell Tony he thought the man was so attractive it was feasibly impossible for him to not be taken. His ego would get so big he’d float off to space and then where would Peter be?

Instead of answering he shifted, bracing his hands on Tony’s chest and rising onto his tiptoes so he could press a chaste kiss to Tony’s mouth, the man’s stubble tickling the corner of his mouth before he pulled away, shrinking in on himself and rubbing at his lower lip.

Tony blinked down at him for a moment. Then he shifted, leaning down to wrap his hands around Peter’s thigh and hip, lifting him up with a flex of work-honed muscles. Peter clutched at his shoulders, legs automatically wrapping around Tony’s waist.

It was a new kind of novelty; to feel thick, corded muscle beneath his palms, to feel the cut of it between his thighs, to feel the scrape of stubble over his jaw and his mouth. All of Peter’s other partners had been close to his own age and relatively close in terms of build and body.

A few strides had Peter’s back pressed against the wall where he let his head fall back with a thump, mouth falling open on a whine.

“Look at you having your five minutes of bravery,” Tony teased him, shifting one leg so his thigh helped to hold Peter’s weight, fingers flexing against his skin. “What happened to the quiet little kid who burnt up anytime he looked my way?”

Peter had nothing to say, shivering through a hiccupped sound when something thick and hard rode the crease of his thigh and hip, hot between the layers of fabric that separated them. Instead of answering he pawed at the man’s shirt, desperately wanting to see the carved flesh beneath it.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want,” Tony soothed him, adjusting them both before he helped to tug on the fabric, muscles shifting and bunching as he worked it over his head and threw it off somewhere to the side.

“Oh,” Peter choked, setting his palms down on the plane of Tony’s stomach. He was beautiful; tanned skin marred with a smattering of scars that stood out pink and pale. He knew better than to focus on them but he couldn’t help running his thumb over a half-moon scar at the bottom of Tony’s pectoral.

“Emergency field incision,” Tony murmured, nipple peaking at the close touch. “Had to mesh-wall my heart.”

Peter had no words for that, either. In all the fun of the firehouse he’d almost forgotten the reality of such a dangerous job. He ran his thumb gently over it again, as if to kiss it, and tightened his legs to bring Tony into him again.

It made them press together in a delicious, warm friction, Tony’s pupils dilating further when Peter tried to stifle the noise the touch prompted. He was squeezed back into the wall as Tony leaned down, catching his mouth in a slick, gentle kiss.

“Hey, kid,” Tony murmured against his mouth, leaning back just enough to speak, teeth scraping over his swollen lower lip.

“Hm?” Peter whimpered, trying to tilt his head to reach him again.

“You wanna see why they call me Captain Firehose?”

Peter’s lashes fluttered as he looked up, mouth dropping open for a moment of pure, unadulterated suspense.

“That was awful,” he groaned with a giggle, tickled by the cheesy line and rendered pink-cheeked by the soft, fond look at Tony fixed him with.

“Made you smile, though,” Tony purred, adjusting his hold as he ducked down to press a kiss to Peter’s cheek, lips trailing over the warm skin before he pulled back and away, muscles flexing as he held Peter up without the support of the wall.

Blushing harder, Peter wound his arms around the man’s neck. “Okay, Captain. Show me how to handle your hose,” he whispered, yelping and laughing when Tony spun them around towards the bedroom with a grin.

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saphirered · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there, I love your blog! Your writing is so good and feels so in line with the characters, if your request are still open I was wondering if you can do general hcs for vax? Nothing in particular just romantic dates or hanging around the keep or in battle etc. Bonus points for how the rest of vox machina treats vax x reader :) lots of love 💜

I hope this one’s to your liking 😘

Your first date was less of a date and more of a mission that turned into a date. Vox Machina had been employed to shadow some noble possibly involved with some kind of possibly dangerous cult. You had to blend into high society and couldn’t simply rely on the shadows Vax felt most comfortable around. Even though he may have been raised among respectable society in Syngorn, high society like the one you had to blend into was more your specialty. You were their ticket to the circles they needed to meddle with. Dressed to the nines you were quite the sight to behold managing to take the poor man’s breath away, among others. Vax made it a point to entwine his arm with yours whenever he had the chance and stick to your side for the whole event. After you proved the noble you were sent to watch innocent you stayed to enjoy the part. Such an invitation shouldn’t go to waste after all… At least that’s what Vax claimed. You’re pretty sure he appreciated the time away from the others.

More lowkey invitations found their way to you from Vax. An invitation to take you on a walk around town, some fun out in a less restricted setting than the high society parties, dinner and dancing, and even a night under the stars, made its way to you. You were more than happy to accept. Just as promised each and every date was perfect in its own way purely because you got to spend more time together.

You had to find out the hard way Vax had been making excuses to the rest of Vox Machina why he was going out or didn’t come back to the keep some nights. You understood but would have preferred a heads up so you could get your stories straight before you were caught by Grog and Pike one night in the tavern. It took a Modify Memory spell to make Grog think he only saw the two of you together in some kind of drunken stupor. Pike was a bit easier to persuade to keep your ‘thing’ a secret and knowing her well enough, the both of you trusted her to keep the secret until the two of you were ready to figure out where this ‘thing’ was going.

Defining what you were to each other was easy. You had feelings for each other. Love even and you could see yourselves spending your days together, however long that may be. Vax has a tendency to get stuck in his own head when it comes to planning a distant future but you put no pressure on him. No need for talks of getting married, having children or even grandchildren. You take it day by day acknowledging that every relationship has his ups and downs but as long as you have each other’s backs through it all and are supportive of each other you’re more than satisfied with what you have going. You bring each other happiness.

You’re each other’s support system knowing you can trust on one another when the world looks bleak and the odds hopeless. You acknowledge that yes sometimes space and time is what the other needs to process, but you’re never far and know how to read each other’s tells when you do need support, be that a heartfelt conversation, a reality check, or a shoulder to cry on. You’re there for each other no matter what.

Vax would often come back from far travels with a little gift he brought back for you wherever he went. A beautiful feather from a bird, a jewelled necklace, an odd trinket would be presented to you upon his return. Each one with a meaning, and every single one of them as valuable as the next. They held a special place in your heart as much as in your home.

The siege of Emon happened. It was a terrifying experience but you knew how to handle yourself. Capable and resilient, your magic helped you bring several people to safety. You lost Vox Machina in the fray but knew they could take care of themselves. You had others to protect and get out of the city before it was too late. Gathering who you could you made your way to Greyskull Keep. You got there when the gates opened, people flooding in.

Seeing Vax among the crowd trying to organise the crowd you were relieved he was alive and well. Rushing over he kissed you the moment he saw you, caught up in the moment not caring who saw. Your reunion was cut short by the arrival of an ancient white dragon. Vax initially dragged you along behind a tree but you come in hot and the moment the dragon comes within range hit it with a Disintegrate spell. Your next actions show Vax very clearly you know exactly how to handle yourself. Though, from the corner of your eye you can see him cringe when you do get slammed into a wall and to the ground. You avoided getting frozen and get back up into the fight.

The aftermath Vax looks you over to make sure you’re alright. It took a lot to assure him you were fine. Even after getting thrown into a wall slightly bloody and bruised, you’d live. He helped clean up the blood and got Pike to heal your heavier injuries. He spent as much time at your side as he could and after he deemed you well enough let you come with him and help carrying heavier things for the people seeking refuge at the Keep. He got quite worried you might be overexerting yourself which gave you a good glimpse into his protective side.

After some dragon hunting and things eventually calmed down you finally had more time to spend together, going back to your usual habits. Slowly but surely the two of you found you were ready to fully let the other’s know about your relationship, though some may have had suspicions before. You didn’t necessarily tell them directly. It started with you showing up for your little ‘date night’ with Vax and neither of you sneaking around or making up excuses anymore. Gradually the others caught on to what this meant. You’d be staying over at their place more often and while the two of you had managed to avoid the awkward conversations for the longest of times

Sitting at the breakfast table one morning, Vax sitting down next to you and pressing a kiss to your temple with an ‘I love you’ may just have been a little too much for some of them.

Pike of course was happy for you that you finally felt secure enough to share this news and made a little comment that how as a cleric of Sarenrae she legally would be able to officiate a wedding, with an all too innocent smile.

Keyleth was very happy for the both of you gushing how you made the perfect couple and asking you if you had noticed all the ‘annoying little things’ Vax does and what you thought of them. She bombarded you with questions about how your relationship stared, how romantic it was until you told her you would gladly tell her in moderation or you might just run out of your ability to speak.

Grog didn’t get what was going on until Vax spelled it out for him. Grog came to the realisation that the time you used Modify Memory on him, a spell that had since faded, wasn’t a drunken vision after all and really did happen. He told you you could entrust him with all secrets, is an expert ‘silencer’ (his words) and wouldn’t have to use magic to get him to keep quiet anymore.

Percy congratulated the two of you on not conforming to the norms of society and actually having a healthy happy relationship not based on the merits of politics and encouraged you to no longer try and bribe the Castle Whitestone staff when sneaking around because they’ll tell him all your dirty little secrets no matter how much you offer them, all jokingly of course.

Scanlan, oh, Scanlan. How the both of you wished the earth would swallow you whole. Scanlan was being typical Scanlan congratulating for you pulling the stick out of Vax’s ass and loosen him up a bit, complimenting the wonders you must have showed him and speculating the things you must have done to get Vax much more at ease, not without ludicrous and inappropriate innuendoes and hand motions.

Vex, throughout all of that breakfast hadn’t said a single thing and instead stared at you coldly, arms crossed. When Vax asked her to stop regardless of her opinions towards you or your relationship with her brother you stepped in saying that whatever she felt was valid but that you had no intend on replacing her place in his heart nor getting between them. She’d remain at his side and you from now on would just be on the other side. After that, a death threat followed, telling you you better not break Vax’s heart or a broken heart would be the least of your worries. You made sure that would never be your intention and you really did love her brother as much as he loved you. This seemed to ease her up with it. Over time she grew more accepting towards you to the point where you could call her a close friend, sister even.

#critical role x reader #vox machina x reader #vax’ildan x reader #vax x reader #critrole x reader

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huggybearsunshine · 3 years ago

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The Things We Left Behind Part 7

[Part 7] Second half of season 8 episode 10 Torn and Frayed.

A/N: TW for themes of self harm (angelic but still)

“I mean, come on,” Dean paced behind Kevin as the prophet attempted to ignore him, finally resorting to putting on his headphones to drown the man out, “How long’s it take to get a calf skull from Egypt?”

He looked at his watch before noticing that Kevin was no longer listening.

“Kevin?” he asked to no response, “Kevin.”

He snapped next to his ear just in case but still received no reaction.

“Your mom’s hot,” he waited, and upon feeling certain that he couldn’t be heard, he added, “Pretty sure I’m dating the Angel…”

He looked for a reaction, but still nothing, until his phone ringing practically made him jump out of his own skin. A glance at the screen had him rolling his eyes at the timing of his vampire friend.

Almost as bad as Sam’s.

“Hey, I thought I told you to go underground.”

“Hey,” Benny greeted him, “I am so far underground, I’m breathing through a straw, brother,” he chuckled uncomfortably, “Look, uh… what happened with your friend Martin back there- it… wasn’t supposed to go down that way.”

“I know, Benny,” Dean assured him, “Not your fault…”

“You did this old dog a real solid,” the vampire continued, “and uh- the way you stood up for me-”

“Well, shoe on the other foot,” Dean scuffed his feet on the floor as he paced around, “You would have done the same…”

“Yeah,” Benny’s voice broke a bit, a struggle to the sound, “I hate to ask you for much else, but I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’re anywhere near the Catskills?”

“Working a case on the other side of the country,” he frowned, “Why? What’s up?”

“Yeah, just hitting a little rough patch, I guess…” Benny’s weary voice rumbled through the receiver, “You know, doing this whole solo thing…”

“Benny, one day at a time, man,” Dean cut in.

“You know what,” Benny shook his head at himself, “Uh… cup of coffee sure would do me good…”

“Alright,” Dean cringed, knowing this wouldn’t go over well with anyone, “Soon as I’m done with this case, I’ll- uh…” he ran his hand through his hair exhaustedly, “I’ll be there, okay?”

“Yeah,” relief washed over the vampire like water and a slight smile tugged at his lip, “Alright, brother. Thank you.”

Dean hung up, pausing in place with his eyes on the phone as if it had betrayed him somehow.

“Sure your boyfriend is gonna like that?” Kevin asked without even looking up and Dean’s feet made a loud scrape as he whipped around.

“Wait, the headphones… you weren’t listening…” Dean stumbled verbally.

“That’s what I wanted you to think…” he turned, a slightly more sympathetic look on his face, “I’m pretty paranoid these days… Sorry.”

Dean inhaled a breath that he didn’t know he’d been refusing to take until it turned sharp in his lungs.

“If it makes it any better, I kinda always had a feeling about you two…” the prophet added.

“Really doesn’t, but it’s fine,” Dean shifted uncomfortably, “Where’s your mom anyway?”

Dean was desperate to talk about anything else at that point. A fact that seemed to amuse Kevin as a mischievous glint threatened within his eye. It was as if he wanted to tease Dean, but exhaustion inevitably won out like it often did these days against the personality he once had.

“Somewhere safe,” was his simple answer.

“You kicked your mom to the curb?” the hunter withdrew slightly in surprise.

“She was too distracting…” he tossed the headphones aside, “I couldn’t focus…”

“Yeah, but your mom’s your mom,” Dean scoffed, suddenly in a bad mood though he couldn’t place why.

“I can’t enjoy a world I need to save, Dean…” Kevin sobered, eyes meeting with the other’s, “I can enjoy it when this is all over with. For right now, there’s nothing more important than this.”

Dean’s eyes dropped when Kevin’s did, full of emotion and fixed on the floor.

“What if the world is never safe…” Dean finally spoke up again, “What if you’re waiting for a time that’ll never come… Could you do this,” he waved a hand vaguely around, “forever… Alone?”

“No,” Kevin admitted honestly, focus once again trained on the tablet in front of him, “You shouldn’t either…”

Dean’s mouth opened to speak, but the silence was instead filled with the sound of wings.

“I got what we need,” Cas’ voice pierced what remaining quiet there was in the room, forcefully pulling them from their moment.

“Bout time,” Dean’s gaze shifted toward him before taking in the form of his giant, little brother, “What’s he doing here?”

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Sam jumped in without missing a beat, “Once we save Alfie, I’m out.”

“Oh, once we save Alfie?” Dean’s frustration peaked, “Don’t hurt yourself, Sam… Cas and I can handle it.”

“Not according to Cas,” Sam crossed his arms defiantly.

Dean turned his eyes toward the Angel in question.

“I told you we didn’t need him,” he reiterated, an almost petulant sound to his voice that he had not meant to put into it, “Did he at least apologize to you?”

“We need everything, Dean,” Cas took in a steadying breath, “And an apology isn’t necessary.”

“Oh, the hell it isn’t-“

“I am…” Sam interrupted, focused now on Cas alone, “Sorry, Cas… I didn’t mean-”

“I know that, Sam,” Cas softened but only for a moment before squaring his shoulders again, “Now I need both of you, as you say, to stow your crap. Can you do that?”

The brother’s just stared stubbornly refusing to answer until the matter was dropped. With Sam alone offering what could’ve been a minute nod at most.

The mission though proved to be a mess from start to finish. They got through to Alfie well enough, but less predictable was the complete mental breakdown Cas experienced upon reaching the other Angel.

“What’s wrong?” Dean fell to his knees before the other man who was crouched on the floor in hysterics, but when Cas remained unresponsive, he stood once more, “Okay, time for plan B.”

“Plan B?” Sam asked before watching Dean fling himself into the iron door, “Ah.”

But sure enough, after a couple of minutes the men were in, and Cas was on his feet again as if nothing happened.

“Dean?” Cas looked for him in the frenzy once he had Samandriel freed from his restraints.

“Cas, go!” Dean called back and the two celestials instantly vanished.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Cas propped the other Angel against baby’s passenger side door, “I’m taking you home.”

“No, you can’t take me back there, Castiel… I told Crowley… things… Things he shouldn’t have known,” Samandriel clung to Cas’ lapel as he pleaded, “He got to our coding, our secrets… Secrets I didn’t even know we had!”

“What secrets?” Cas’ brows dropped low.

“Heaven,” he replied pointedly, grip tightening even more around the Angel’s coat, “Naomi.”

A vision flashed before him, but it was fogged over in an instant.

“Naomi,” the name echoed in his mind.

“No… W-who’s Naomi?” he voiced aloud.

“Who is-“ Samandriel’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head, “Listen to me. Listen to me closely. I’ve been there! I know!”

Castiel’s vision began to go in and out as if on autofocus.

“They’re controlling us, Castiel!” Samandriel’s voice bellowed, trying desperately to reach him.

“What do you mean?” Cas looked pained as the confusion persisted.

“Castiel,” a woman’s voice screamed and he was suddenly in a white chair with her looming over him. Naomi. “Kill him!”

“What does he mean ‘They’re controlling us’?” he pressured.

“Castiel!” her voice cried back in frustration as if chastising a misbehaved dog.

“Who is controlling us? Why did I see your face?” he was practically begging her at this point, only a distraction as his hand slipped under the sleeve of the opposite side, “Why was I so afraid? What did you do to me?”

“This is a direct order!” she pulled him to his feet roughly, “Kill him!”

He felt himself being pushed back only to still be standing by the impala with Samandriel again, a blade falling into his hand and swinging forward before he could even react.

He sunk down with him, feeling the ground flatten under his knees while simultaneously looking up at Naomi from that same white chair.

“What did I just do?” his voice shook.

“You killed a traitor,” the woman in the white room corrected.

“Samandriel was… good,” his eyes watered, “And I was trying to atone…”

“Samandriel was broken,” she insisted, “He revealed the existence of something I would die to protect- any of us would die to protect.”

“I just murdered one of our own to protect a tablet?” Cas looked sick.

“You’re a hero, Castiel,” she moved closer, “You have done heaven a great service.”

“And that’s what I tell Sam and Dean?” he gathered, hand once again shoved up into the other side’s sleeve before he was pulled back by the sound of Dean’s voice.

“Cas! What the hell happened?”

“He was compromised,” he looked up, robotically repeating the words he was told to say, “He came at me. I killed him in self-defense.”

“Cas, you okay?” Dean looked horrified as blood dripped from the Angel’s eye.

“My vessel must have been damaged in the melee,” but the hunter could see something in his eyes screaming for him, “I have to go.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Dean shook his head before stepping forward.

He stared at the Angel, holding the gaze in a way they had perfected over years of pining stupidly after one another, and Cas was completely caught off guard as the cold of the Enochian-engraved cuffs hit his wrists.

“Dean,” he growled.

Dean felt a wetness on the end of the Angel’s sleeve before he could release his wrists, eyes rising worriedly toward the other’s awaiting gaze before he yanked the sleeve up to see it.

The seraph had carved the words ‘They’re controlling us’ into his arm.

“You’re staying with me this time,” Dean ground out through clenched teeth.

“With us,” Sam corrected.

“You sure,” Dean turned, “Cause whatever you decide… decide. Both feet in or both feet out. Anything in between is what gets you dead.”

His own words seemed to settle on him and he made a face that said he had called himself out a bit with that one.

“You and Cas get in the car… I got something I gotta do…” Dean pulled the phone out of his pocket and looked at it carefully.

Sam dropped a hand heavily onto Dean’s shoulder as he passed, and Dean vaguely heard the doors click shut behind him. One and then a few moments later, the other. And then the phone was rising to his ear before he even knew he’d dialed.

“Dean, I thank you mightily, bud,” the rasp of the vampire’s voice rang out, “I’m in a hard way here. How close are you?”

“I’m sorry, man. I, um…” Dean replied, eyes drawn as always to Cas’ as he watched him like a hawk from within the car, “I’m not gonna make it.”

“You mean now, or…”

“Listen, Benny, everything you’ve done for me… I will never forget, but, uh… This is it,” he finally broke the connection, finding the ground easier to take in than that uncompromising blue gaze.

“End of the line?” Benny guessed.

“End of the line,” the hunter confirmed.

“Yeah, well, I never liked these cellphones anyway,” he laughed to lighten the heaviness that had dropped onto both of them.

“You, uh… You stay good alright?” Dean couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“You too, Dean…” Benny shook his head, “and uh, thanks for the ride.”

“Yeah, man… adios.”

Always the adios.

——————————

@spuffy-destiel @destieliscanon5nov

#dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #Naomi #samandriel #season 8 coda #spn 8x10 #castiel x dean #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fanfic #deancas fic #spn #supernatural #torn and frayed

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myrfing · 2 years ago

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gourd/fray = instant. playing gourd means fray has to look up when they say all that shit. it immediately shatters you. also pretty sure I started tanking FOR fray so that was a foregone conclusion

gourd/haurchefant = it was a while later after his death that I was like were they sort of a thing and decided they sort of were

gourd/omega = oddly defined. it was that scene where omega makes a bunch of yellow feathers fall in their little worldscape. one and the same moment but nothing differs from canon. omega will be a clunky burgerbot mcdonalds toy forever but I dream about them taking their wolform and adventuring and meeting gourd again when they have a personhood bone

gourd/graha = platonic until shb. i was a you have to give my he is not cringe he is my mutual little guy back campaigner and when we got him back the elation did something and i was like gourd needs to spin him around at the airport and kiss his cat forehead. sometimes I still prefer it platonic and like them as old friends first and foremost

gourd/lyna = it was that scene where you get to be lynas most awkward soldier and also when she looks up at the sky ☝️ after holminster switch and it maybe feels like your wol is watching her do that and maybe gourd thought he wanted to see her look that way again. and then THAT scene at the ostall imperative and it’s like im imagining him giving you a piggyback ride home from the beach and lyna just gets to chill and feel at ease with him and It’s OVERRR. he can be her capybara

gourd/kurenai: he flies into town and brings her weird shiny trinkets like a crow

gourd/mikoto: actually not even sure if mikoto reciprocates the whole thing still but it was like they are weird buddies having incomprehensible exchanges in the bg while everyone else is being normal on the prima vista -> (sleeper thought) her instantly bluntly saying she thought he’d be taller unprompted would probably catch him off guard and . well same factor that makes him susceptible to erenville

#NOT ALL OF THESEARE THE SAME TIMELINE #LMFAOOOO

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wholesomemendes · 4 years ago

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Top of the List

Summary: You’re a junior in college who spends almost all of your time stuck in either your dorm room or the library until you’re forced to go to a frat party where you meet Shawn, who immediately changes your whole college experience.

Author’s Note: I’m backkkkkk. I am so so excited about this one. This was based off a request I got in like May or something like that basically so insanely long ago and I never got to it because I knew it was going to be long. I kinda went off track with the request too a little bit, but I hope you love it as much as I do. It’s my baby so please be kind (also it’s my birthday so please don’t hurt my feelings too much lol). As always, I love hearing any type of feedback and I love you all x

Word Count: 12.2k

The door of your dorm room slammed open as your roommate rushed inside, frantically throwing her bag onto her bed and rummaging through her closet. You peered over the top of your laptop where you were busy editing an essay you had just finished for a class, watching her distressed state with curious eyes. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Natalie asked almost breathlessly, settling on a silk, light pink top with a plunging v-neck and a short black skirt.

“Why are you rushing so much? Where are you going?”

You would’ve thought you had grown three heads by the way she looked at you and the way she rolled her eyes when she noticed you were being dead serious made you slightly cave in on yourself in disappointment. “How do you not know what’s going on tonight? Sigma Alpha Epsilon is throwing another one of their huge parties, it’s all everyone has been talking about for the past two weeks.”

“I don’t know, must’ve just gone over my head,” you mumbled, feeling a little self-conscious about your lack of knowledge on what was going on in the social life of your campus. Ninety-nine percent of the time your head was stuck in a book or hunched over your laptop doing homework in the library so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that this party was nowhere on your radar.

“Well now you know, so you’re going with me. Chop chop you’ve got to get dressed.”

“HA, you think I’m going to a party?”

She raised an eyebrow at you, silently challenging you to disagree with her, “Um, yes you are. Connor invited me which means I’m inviting you because he invites like 20 girls and I don’t want to be stuck alone all night.”

“You’re not going to be alone all night,” you sighed, closing your laptop before swinging your legs off the side of the bed, “You’re popular enough on campus that you’ll be able to find someone to hang out there with if I’m not there.”

“I know, but it’d be more fun if you were there with me. Pleaseeeeeee.” Natalie pulled out her best puppy dog eyes on you, her bottom lip jutting out to make her face look more innocent, “I’ll even do your makeup and hair for you….and you can borrow some of my clothes!”

“What, are my clothes not good enough or something?”

“They are! They’re just a little too, what’s the word I’m looking for, conservative for a party. You need something a little bit scandalous, you know? Gotta give the boys a little something something.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you before letting out a huff of annoyance and getting up to grab your hand to pull you off of the bed, “Come on, no excuses. Let’s get you ready for tonight.”

__________________________

This wasn’t your scene. Natalie had left you to go play beer pong about thirty minutes after you stepped foot into the loud, alcohol-stenched frat house, but you soon lost sight of her when Connor whisked her away after their team won against two other frat boys to what you could only assume would be his bedroom. You didn’t mind that she left you, you’d rather have one of you enjoying yourself then have her be miserable trying to entertain you. The tight shirt and skirt Natalie forced you into didn’t seem like such a bad idea when you were staring at yourself in the mirror of your dorm (to be honest the way she did your hair and makeup gave you a newfound confidence you hadn’t had in years), but now as you stood in the corner of the kitchen quietly nursing your drink while your eyes scanned the crowd of sweaty college students, you couldn’t feel more insecure and self-conscious. Your arms wrapped around your center, desperately trying to cover up what little skin was to be seen and you wished that Natalie would come down those stairs any second to go back to your dorm with you. You were so lost in your thoughts you hardly noticed the stench of beer get stronger around you or the heat of another body on your shoulder until the unknown person was up against you. “Hey,” the boy who you recognized from one of your writing classes and were pretty sure was a part of another fraternity on campus slurred, “You wanna come dance with me, sexy?”

“Um, no I’m ok, thanks though.” You tried to turn and walk away from him, but were stopped abruptly by his hand gripping your wrist and pulling you closer to him again.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he breathed into your ear, hot breath fanning across your face in the process making you cringe inward on yourself, “I’d love to feel that ass of yours up against me.”

“I said no, I don’t want to dance with you.” You could feel the panic rising in your throat, causing your words to come out broken and weak, and you desperately wished someone would see the fear in your eyes and come help you. His grip on you tightened the more you resisted and in that moment you wished you had never been stupid enough to listen to Natale about how fun this party was going to be.

“And I said you should come dance with me. So why don’t you-” HIs hand was pried off your wrist in seconds and you rubbed the spot where it had left, holding it close to your chest in fear.

“I think she already said no, buddy.” Your savior came in the form of a curly, brown haired boy that stood at least a couple inches over your unwanted dance partner. A scowl was evident on his face, his brown eyes hard and dark, “Now you should probably get out before I ban you from ever stepping foot in this place again.” The other boy left, but not before rudely shoulder checking the person you believed was your hero, which only earned him a scoff in return. “God, can’t stand people like that. They have no common decency for anyone.” He made eye contact with you for the first time that night and your heart skipped a beat, your body feeling somewhat small compared to his tall height. He saw the fearful look in your eyes and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder before looking you up and down for any signs of damage from the previous encounter, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I am now that you saved me,” you mumbled slightly, lowering your gaze to your cup in order to avoid his worried look, “Thank you, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Well I’m glad I could help. I’m Shawn, by the way, I don’t think we’ve ever met.” Sticking his hand out for you to shake, he gave you a dazzling smile and you immediately recognized him as the president of the fraternity, the one your roommate was constantly talking about trying to get into his pants. Seeing him up close for the first time, you couldn’t help but understand why all the girls wanted to get with him and why a lot of those girls did get with him. There was a blue bandana wrapped around his head pushing back the beautiful curls that adorned his head and his chiseled jaw and bright eyes entranced you, making it hard to look away. His black t-shirt was frayed at the top near the buttons, allowing his few chest hairs to peak out, and his muscles practically bulged out of the short sleeves. You noticed a few tattoos along his arms, one being the one all of the hockey players got after they won their championship, as you shook his hand, but his strong grip broke you out of your thoughts and forced you to look at him again.

“I’m Y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Do you need another drink? I know where all of the good alcohol is if you want it,” he winked at you, a smug smirk on his lips as he held his hand up to his face as if he was telling you something top secret.

You looked at the almost empty beer in your hand sadly, but the thought of getting another drink absolutely disgusted you at the moment, “No thank you. I think I’m going to head out actually, I’m a little shaken up to be honest.”

“Don’t go because of that!” Shawn’s voice sounded rushed as if he desperately wanted you to stay, though you pushed the thought aside, knowing that he couldn’t care less about what you did. “If you want you can stay by me for the rest of the night or if you came with someone you can always use my name, I’ve learned it can get you a long way sometimes.”

Your eyes met his once again and you tried to push the butterflies that you were feeling down your throat. “I’m just here with my roommate, but I think she went up with one of your friends,” you admitted bashfully, rubbing your hand up and down your arm nervously, “I haven’t seen her in awhile. Parties aren’t exactly my thing, I’m only here because she forced me to come, so I think I’m just going to text her and then head out.”

“You’re going to walk home alone? Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t have any better ones right now.”

“Easy. I’ll walk you home.” He leaned against one of the walls comfortably as he spoke, a large smile on his face the entire time. There wasn’t a look of regret on his face, but you still questioned his motives. Why would he want to go out of his way to make sure you got home safe? Was he just trying to get you in bed with him? But if he was then why was he so adamant about getting that guy off of you?

“Don’t worry about it Shawn, really, I’ll be ok.”

“It’s either that or you’re staying in my room tonight so you don’t have to walk home alone.” There was a confident look in his eyes and he knew he had you beat, causing you to roll your eyes before walking past him towards the door.

His eyes followed you curiously as you walked away, watching as you turned around and beckoned him forward, “Come on then, I want to be asleep before 4,” leaving him to trail behind you like a puppy at your feet. __________________________

The two of you walked to your dorms in a mix of comfortable silence and easy conversation that sparked in the 10 minutes it took to get you home. It was surprising how little awkward tension there was for two people on completely different sides of the spectrum who had never met before today, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You learned he was majoring in music, something that his parents weren’t one hundred percent confident with, though they still supported him nonetheless he assured you, and that he had been playing hockey since he was 6. The moment you got to the door of your building you stopped, ready to thank him for walking with you and move on with the rest of your night, preferably reading your essay one more time before heading to bed, but Shawn had other plans. “Why’d you stop? Did you forget your key or something?”

“No,” you looked at him with furrowed brows, “I think I can walk up to my dorm myself.”

He crossed his arms defensively with a stern look on his face, “Oh I get it, you don’t want me to know which room you’re in. I saved you from some creep and you still think I’m just like him don’t you."

“It’s not that, I just don’t feel comfortable bringing you up to my dorm after we just met.”

“Which is a big deal because…”

“Isn’t me saying that it makes me uncomfortable enough of a reason?” you asked him, mimicking his position as a tiny bit of anger grew inside of you.

Shawn scoffed, rolling his eyes at your words, “Honey, if I wanted to get you in my bed, you’d already be in there by now. There’s no reason to worry about me doing anything to you if you let me walk you up there.”

“Excuse me? Just because you’ve gotten with the entire cheerleading team…”

“Not true...”

“And at least half of the sorority girls…”

“Half is pushing it a little bit…”

“Doesn’t mean that you’d be able to get with me. I don’t have time for a relationship right now and I don’t do random hookups, thank you very much. So thank you for saving me at the party and thank you for walking me home, but that will be all. Good night, Shawn.” With that you turned on your heels, using your key card before slamming the door in his face and heading up the stairs to your dorm. You couldn’t believe it. Right when you thought you were forming a type of friendship or a least mutual respect for someone that wasn’t your roommate it all fell apart like it always did. What were you thinking when Shawn Mendes was the definition of a frat boy? Why would he want to be friends with someone like you? You couldn’t even lie and say that it didn’t hurt a little when he said he would’ve already tried to get you in bed if he wanted to. Were you really that ugly that the boy who practically got with any female that wanted to didn’t want to get with you? Not that you would sleep with him if he had asked you, you did have an unspoken rule with yourself that you didn’t want to do hookups in college, but at least knowing that he found you attractive would have given you a slight confidence boost. You already hated how you had never been asked out by the boys in college, even though you weren’t exactly looking for a guy or putting yourself out there to be asked on a date, and how every girl seemed to sneer at you when you walked past. So that night you cuddled yourself under the covers, vowing to never step foot in another frat house again no matter how much Natalie begged. __________________________

“What are you doing tonight?” Natalie launched herself onto your bed, causing you to let out a groan when she landed on you.

You pushed her off of you while she laughed, making you roll your eyes, “Probably just binge watching some Netflix honestly. Why?”

“Really? That wasn’t what I thought you’d say at all.”

“What’d you think I was going to say?” you laughed as she sat up and leaned against your wall.

“Oh, something along the lines of ‘I have to study for a test that I’ve already taken and rewrite my essay for the thirtieth time’”, she said in a high pitched voice you soon realized was her impression of you.

“Hey, I do not sound like that! And besides, laugh all you want about it, but I’m at the top of the class so I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, I’m just surprised you’re giving yourself a break.”

“I am,” you told her with a smile, “I have no homework to finish tonight or tests coming up or essays that need to be turned in, so I’m finally letting myself have a night off.”

“Or…”

You raised an eyebrow at her, “Or what.”

“Or you could come to the hockey game tonight with me so I’m not alone.”

“Oh hell no, Nat, I’m not doing this again.” You grabbed your laptop off of your side table, already ready to pop open your tv series for the night.

“What do you mean you’re not doing this again? It’ll be fun!”

“Last time you convinced me to go somewhere I almost got harassed by a drunk frat boy and then I got into an argument with another frat boy while you were busy hooking up with a different one.”

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” she scoffed, climbing off the bed, “Besides, you’ve never been to a hockey game before and you’re a junior. No offense, but do you know how pathetic that sounds. Our school is literally known for hockey! Just once and then I’ll never ask you to go again.” You gave her a stern look, one that threatened her to ask again, but when she flashed her eyes at you, you immediately gave in, rolling your eyes at yourself and already hating yourself for agreeing.

“Fine, but you can’t leave my side the entire night.”

“I promise I won’t! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She brought you into a bone crushing hug before releasing you in favor of searching through her closet for something for the both of you to wear. __________________________

You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t enjoying yourself a little bit. Opposed to last time Natalie was still sitting by your side and you had managed to convince her to let you wear one of your school hoodies and a pair of leggings to keep warm instead of the (as she phrased it) ‘hot ass’ outfit she had picked out for you. It was the final 10 minutes of the game and your team was ahead by four points, something everyone had been assured was an easy win from the start. Still, you could tell why everyone liked going to the games, it was energetic and loud and everything you thought a college game would be, but not as overwhelming. Even though Natalie had decided to sit next to Connor and they were relentlessly flirting and managing to have physical contact with one another the entire time, you were so focused on the game that it wasn’t bothering you as much as you imagined it would when you first sat down. You were entranced by the way the players skated across the ice, your eyes immediately drawing to one player in particular that seemed so comfortable on the ice. The moment you saw the back of his jersey though, MENDES written in bright white lettering, your heart dropped a little bit, not wanting to watch him as much as you were. Though it was hard not to when there was a clear reason he was made captain, so you were left to shamelessly follow his fast, steady movements across the ice.

The game soon ended with a win as expected and you were forced to follow Natalie and Connor deeper into the crowd of students to congratulate the team after they came out of their locker room. The crowd was cheering, adrenaline pumping through the air as you walked down the halls until you reached a large open space. Not long after all of the boys were making their way out, Shawn leading the pack like a true captain. A large portion of the girls (mostly puck bunnies or sorority girls or even some that just wanted some attention from the star himself) immediately crowded along Shawn and you could tell by the look on his face that he was enjoying every last second of it. His eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment before landing on yours and you swore you could see his smile falter until it became even brighter than before. He excused himself from the hoard of girls as he headed your way, making your heart stop. Was he really coming to see you? What were you going to say? “Good job”? No, you don’t want to congratulate him, he was rude to you the other night. Don’t let him know how you couldn’t stop watching him the entire game, he doesn’t need another boost to his already huge ego. Is he gonna say something first? What if he…

“Hey man, how’d it look from the crowd?” Shawn asked as he bro-hugged Connor. Your heart dropped. Of course he was coming over here to talk to one of his best friends, why would you think he was coming for you? But you could’ve sworn the two of you had made eye contact. Were you really that stupid?

“Great as always, they were easy today anyways.”

“Yeah we went a little easy on them. Last time we absolutely creamed them and then I got threats from their team about how ‘we were gonna pay for embarrassing them like that,’” Shawn scoffed, “Like we were the ones who embarrassed them.” He turned his head, sending a bright smile your way before finally acknowledging you for the first time tonight, “I’ve never seen you at a game before, do you always leave right after it ends?”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, wondering if you should just lie or admit how antisocial you truly were, “No, um this is actually my first hockey game.” Ok, admitting how antisocial you are it is.

“Your first hockey game? What year are you?”

“I’m a junior…”

“You’re a junior and this is your first hockey game?”

“Oh calm down, it’s not that big of a deal,” Natalie chimed in, sensing your discomfort at the situation at hand.

“Wait, don’t tell me.” Shawn rubbed his forehead as if he was thinking before snapping his fingers in Natalie’s direction, “You must be Natalie, right? Y/n was telling me all about you the other night.”

“The other night?”

“Yeah, I walked her home after the party last week. She didn’t tell you?”

Her eyes went wide, looking in your direction with her mouth hanging open while you caved in on yourself, “No, she failed to mention that you were the one to walk her home.”

“Damn, you were that ashamed of me, eh?” Shawn let out a light chuckle before slinging an arm around you to pull you closer to him.

“Wasn’t exactly my proudest moment,” you mumbled, trying your hardest not to lean into his body that seemed so tempting. You didn’t know what body wash he used in his shower, the shower was evident by the slightly wet hair on his head that made him look absolutely breathtaking, but it was extremely inviting and you wanted nothing more than to snuggle your head into his chest and breathe it through your senses.

“Anyways, are you two coming to the party tonight?”

“I mean…” Natalie started, but you cut her off immediately.

“No, we’re heading back after this,” you gave a pointed look in her direction, “Right, Nat?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a party pooper Y/n,” Shawn whined, ruffling your hair and laughing as you swatted his arm away.

“I’m not a party pooper, I’m just,” you stuttered for a second trying to find a decent excuse, “Just not quite dressed appropriately for a party, don’t you think?”

“Nonsense, I think you look great. But if it’s that big of a deal you can borrow my practice jersey and you’ll be all set.” Before you could protest Shawn was already reaching down into his duffle bag and producing a bright blue jersey with his name on the back. It was clear that this wasn’t just some jersey you’d buy in the school spirit shop, it looked as professional as it could, except the different design and tattered edges showed that it was made for practice.

“I’m not putting that on.”

“Why not? I promise it doesn’t smell and besides, don’t you want to let Nat have some fun?” He waved the jersey in front of you with a teasing smile on your face, causing you to roll your eyes before you snatched it out of his grip and pulled it over your sweatshirt. “That’s what I thought,” Shawn smirked as he put his arm back around your shoulders, “Now come on, I’ll drive, Y/n can be shot gun.” __________________________

No more than ten minutes later you were parked back at the same frat house you had been at the week prior and the mere thought of it made you sick. However, you didn’t know how much longer you could stay in Shawn’s jeep where he was stealing glances at you every five seconds and trying to annoy you in every way possible. He’d find every way possible to try and touch you in some way, whether it was a poke in the face or moving a strand of hair behind your ear, and constantly make comments that you wanted to laugh at, but wouldn’t be caught dead showing him that. So the second he parked you were already out of the car, breathing in a deep breath of clean air to make sure the scent of Shawn that was so heavy in his jeep would leave your senses. “Wow, was the drive that bad that you’re so eager to leave?”

You were praying with every ounce of your body that Shawn couldn’t see the blush on your face when he made eye contact on with you that teasing smile on his face, but the way Natalie snickered as she got out of the back of the jeep told you that she definitely knew. “No, I just get claustrophobic easily, that’s all.”

“Mhm.” Shawn looked at you, obviously not believing your excuse, but still motioning you towards the front door nonetheless. There was already a fair amount of people inside, at least enough to make you cringe at the thought of being there. Shawn had a light hold on your arm before leaning into your ear to make sure that you heard him, “I’m going to go get us some drinks. What do you want?”

“I don’t care, you can pick. Just please no shots of anything.”

“Ok, I’ll be back.”

Natalie and Connor were already god knows where, so you were left standing in the main foyer of the frat house, holding your arms around yourself while you looked around awkwardly, waiting for Shawn to return. You felt the familiar feeling of nervousness creeping up your throat and you forced yourself to focus on the smell of Shawn’s jersey and how warm it felt around you as a way to calm your rapid beating heart. He had only been gone a few minutes before someone else was approaching you, making your heart drop when you remembered what went down the last time you were here. “Hey, you wanna come dance with me?”

Hearing those words made you want to throw up, but you tried to keep your head up and your gaze unbothered while you prayed for Shawn to come back. “No thank you.”

“Well, can I go get you a drink then?”

“No, someone’s already…”

The feeling of an arm wrapping around you caused you to freeze until your nose caught onto the scent you had been unintentionally enjoying all night and you allowed yourself to relax into him. “I already got it for her. I think she’s all set, buddy.” The other guy got the hint quickly and backed away into the crowd until he was no more than a mere drop in a pool of people. “Damn, can’t even leave you alone for two seconds before you got some guy hitting on you,” Shawn laughed, but quickly stopped once he noticed the terrified look on your face. “Hey,” he placed a hand on your face to bring your eyes to his, “Did he touch you? Or hurt you?”

“No, no he didn’t, I’m still just a little shaken up from last time I guess,” you mumbled, bringing your gaze down to where your hands were engulfed in the fabric of your sweatshirt, “I’m sorry you have to keep saving me.”

“That’s understandable, it’s never a pleasant experience. And you never need to thank me, it’s just common decency.” You refused to meet his eyes again, but you heard his sigh before he gently grabbed your hand in his and handed you your drink. Your heart fluttered when he took your other hand in his grasp, the feeling of his rough calluses overwhelming your senses. “What do you say we go dance? Get your mind off of things for a little bit, let loose.”

“I don’t know Shawn, I’m not the greatest dancer…”

“You don’t have to be. I promise it will be fun.”

You knew there was a ninety-nine percent chance that you were going to embarrass yourself completely in front of him, but the way he was staring at you like it would break his heart if you said no made up your mind for you in a second. “Ok, let’s go.”

A wide smile broke out on Shawn’s face before he dragged you into the crowd, finding a spot he deemed fit for the two of you to dance in. It started out with just a simple step touch as you started to feel the rhythm of the music and allow yourself to relax as much as possible while sipping on the drink he got you. He tried to make small talk with you even over the loud music, resulting in him having to brush his lips against your ear as he spoke to you. Your heart fluttered with each movement and the alcohol you were consuming wasn’t making it any easier when he’d laugh at something you said, his bright brown eyes crinkling from his cheeks. As the night got longer and your cup became emptier, the distance between the two of you became smaller and smaller until your chest was pressed right against his. His free hand came up to naturally grasp your waist, but not in a way that made you uncomfortable. On the contrary, it made your stomach do flips that you couldn’t control even if you wanted to. His face was getting close, too close for your muddled brain to do anything rational about it. You didn’t know exactly what was put in the drink (it was delicious though and you knew he would tell you if you asked), but as a light weight you were definitely feeling the effects of it, so just as his nose touched the tip of yours you pulled away, muttering in his ear about how you had to use the bathroom before running off away from the crowd.

After winding through the halls of the house and passing multiple people making out against the walls, you finally reached the bathroom where you shut the door in a hurry, allowing yourself to take a deep breath as you leaned against the counter. Your eyes lifted up to stare at your reflection in the mirror, your brain struggling to process what had just happened. Was he going to kiss you? Was this his plan all along, to get you comfortable enough around him to have you wrapped around his finger? No, that couldn’t have been it. He was so easy to talk to and seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say and what you were doing. He wouldn’t do that just to get with you, would he? Your thoughts are interrupted by a series of knocks on the door, followed by a worried voice, “Y/n? Are you ok in there?”

“Yeah! I’ll, um, I’ll be right out!” You splashed some water onto your face in an effort to calm yourself down to a degree before opening the door to be met with Shawn’s concerned face.

“I’m sorry if I rushed you. You just ran out of there so quick I was worried something happened.”

Your heart swelled at how much he seemed to care about you and you willed the heat to leave your face, “No, I’m ok. I did feel a little crowded in there, but I’m ok now, thanks.”

“Yeah, of course. What do you say we go to the kitchen for a little bit to talk in there? It usually isn’t too crowded this far into the party.” You allowed him to take your hand and lead you into the kitchen where, like he said, was completely empty besides a few people every now and then that would come to refill their glass. Most of the alcohol had been moved into various places of the house so there was no fear of a bunch of hammered students coming in and ruining the place. There was a comforting silence between the two of you for a moment, the only sound being the music that could be heard from the main room as you both leaned against the counter next to one another. “I’m glad you came to the game tonight,” Shawn broke the silence, looking at you with a sincere look in his eye, “And thanks for letting me drag you to this party.”

“I don’t think I could’ve said no to the party, you’re pretty convincing,” you admitted, downing the last sip of your drink, “You were really good tonight, too. I never told you earlier, but I couldn’t stop watching you as you played. It’s obvious why you were chosen as captain.”

Shawn let out a nervous chuckle, his own cheeks showing a hint of pink to them, “Thanks, it means a lot. Do you want another drink?”

“No, I’m ok. I get drunk easily so I think I should stop before it gets worse.” You easily learned that you were an extremely honest drunk and if the words you were saying to Shawn were any indicator, you definitely shouldn’t drink anything more.

“That’s a shame, I have a feeling that you’re fun when you’re absolutely plastered.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, you’re already fun as it is, but it takes a while for you to open up. I think I’d get to see you at your fullest, you know what I mean? But that’s just off of my first couple impressions of you, so what do I know.” He finished off his statement by grabbing a beer from the fridge, returning to a spot much closer to you, so close that your shoulders were right up against one another. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m very comfortable around you,” you whispered, eyes falling down to his smooth, red lips.

He caught the motion of your eyes and let his do the same, his face coming just that extra inch closer to yours, “Do you think it would be ok if…”

“Y/n! We’re going home!” Natalie came barging into the kitchen, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the door.

“What? What’s going on?” you asked her, trying to tug your arm away, but her grip was strong and she was dead set on ordering an uber to get out of here as soon as possible.

“I’ll tell you when we get back.”

Your heart dropped as you looked at Shawn who looked just as confused and saddened as you. “Bye Shawn, thanks for bringing us.”

“Wait,” he muttered to himself, running towards the door before Natalie could get you out of it, “Give me your phone really quick.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.” You unlocked your phone for him and watched as he added his number into your messages, even including a silly picture of him as his contact photo that you knew you’d be laughing at later. “Text me when you’re back at your dorm, eh? Wanna make sure you get home safe.”

Looking into his eyes you saw a completely different man than the one you had yelled at on the first night you met. This one seemed vulnerable as he stared at you, as though he was putting himself bare in front of you and showing you the real him. You nodded your head, taking your phone from his hand before Natalie was pulling you towards the uber. “I promise I’ll text you.”

“Bye Y/n.” __________________________

“What was that for?!” you demanded, staring down your roommate as she fell onto her bed.

“Connor and I got into a fight.”

“I didn’t know the two of you were dating.”

“That’s the thing...we’re not.” She sighed, propping herself up against the wall, “See the thing is...we’re talking I guess, but it’s not exclusive. It’s more like a ‘talking’ so we can hook up if we want to sort of thing.”

“So what does that have to do with you dragging me out of the party.”

“Well I was making out with Tim…”

“Why were you making out with Tim?”

“Because he’s hot and I’m drunk so it was a great idea. That was until Connor saw and got all pissed because apparently I’m not allowed to do that, but he’s all over girls all the time still so I don’t see the big deal! And because I’m so drunk I was over fighting with him for the night and I’m mad so therefore we had to leave.”

“Great,” you muttered, “I was finally having a good time at a party and then you and your hook up had to mess it up.”

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I truly am. If there was a way to make it up to you I’d do it. But preferably when I’m sober.”

“It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal anyways,” you mumbled before you began to change into some more comfortable clothes for the night. You noticed you were still wearing Shawn’s jersey that you would ultimately have to give him back for the game, but you couldn’t help but think that you could worry about getting it to him tomorrow and maybe that would be your chance to make up for the time you lost tonight. __________________________

The light streamed in through the window of your dorm and you groaned, pushing yourself out of bed to turn off your alarm. You sighed to yourself as you got yourself up and moving for the day, even going as far as making sure that Natalie was still alive and breathing after she came home late last night from a bar before grabbing your bag to head to class. You hated your 8am class, but it was the only slot available that worked with your schedule so you simply had to man up and accept your fate. You were about halfway to your class when you heard a distant voice call out to you and you whipped your head around to meet a smiling curly haired boy running your way. “Y/n, hey,” Shawn smiled at you after finally catching up to you, “Long time no see.”

“Hey, Shawn, how have you been?” You hadn’t seen him since you had dropped his practice jersey off at the doorstep of the frat a few weeks back, but you couldn’t lie and say a part of you was hoping that you’d run into him again.

“Good, miss seeing you at the hockey games though.”

His comment made you blush and you brought your gaze to the floor so he couldn’t see your heated cheeks. “I never really went before so I wasn’t exactly planning on going anytime soon again.”

“You didn’t have a good time?” he asked with a feigned offense, big puppy dog eyes on display as he walked next to you.

“I promise I did, I just prefer to stay in my dorm and study if we’re being honest.”

“I understand,” he nodded thoughtfully, “So where are you headed?”

“English Literature, how about you?”

“Calculus, which if we’re being honest here is not my strong suit. If I don’t get at least a B on this next test they could pull me from the game. I swear I’m not dumb, I just don’t get it I guess.”

“Well, I don’t know if it means anything to you, but I had an A in that class last semester. I could help you out if you want.”

“You’d do that for me?” he asked with wide eyes, bringing you both to a halt in front of your lecture hall. “Of course I would, when’s your test?”

“Next Tuesday, could we meet on Thursday after practice?”

“Sounds perfect. Just text me the time and place.”

“I owe you a bunch.” Shawn leaned in to press a kiss to the top of your temple that left your heart fluttering before making his way over to his own class. __________________________

Thursday felt like it would never come, but there you were sitting alone inside the library at eight thirty at night, waiting for Shawn to arrive from his practice. A million thoughts were swirling through your head the longer you waited and you desperately wished he would show up to give you a distraction from your mind. You were constantly worried that he wouldn’t show up, had planned on ditching you from the start as some kind of sick joke, but that fear was diminished when he stumbled through the doors. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he breathed out, “Practice went later than expected.” A series of students shushed him for being too loud, causing a sheepish expression to grace his face, “Sorry.”

He sat his bag down next to you, sliding in close enough that you would be able to see what the other was doing while still maintaining a safe distance. “Sooo,” you broke the silence as he got his books out, “What do you want to start with?”

The rest of the time was spent discussing Shawn’s upcoming test and explaining what each concept was to the best of your ability. You could tell that he was smart, he just needed a little bit of help, so he was very easy to work with. Besides how hard it was for you to concentrate around him that was. Whenever he leaned in to peer over your work a little more, your heart beat increased rapidly and you held your breath until he moved away again. You couldn’t tell if he was aware of your behaviors, but he seemed extremely unfazed, always dazzling you a bright smile after something made sense to him. It was adorable to you when his eyes would furrow a little bit while he was working and the proud glow on his face when he got a problem right.

Time seemed to go by quick with all the little jokes he was making and soon enough it was eleven at night and the library was beginning to close down. “Guess we should be heading out then,” Shawn laughed, “Unless you plan on sleeping in here tonight.”

“No, not exactly. Was kind of looking forward to my bed if I’m being honest.” A chuckle of your own escaped your lips as you packed up your bag alongside him.

“Did you drive here?”

“No, my car isn’t on campus. I just walked.”

“Well I hope you weren’t planning on walking back too.”

“What other choice do I have?”

Shawn raised an eyebrow at you, “Seriously? You’re going to ask that when I’m literally right here.”

“I’m not going to ask you to drive me home, Shawn.”

“Good thing you’re not asking me, I’m telling you. Now come on, my jeep is right out here.” You didn’t protest this time, knowing he wouldn’t back down from his offer, and instead followed him out to that black jeep you vividly remember from your last trip in it.

The ride back to your dorm was significantly quieter than what your previous encounters with Shawn had been besides the quiet music playing in the background. By the time he had pulled in front of your building, there were hardly any cars to be seen around and all of the students were already inside. Shawn turned his body to face you, “Thanks for the help tonight, I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure. Good luck on your test next week, I know you’ll do great, but you can still text me if you want to meet up again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave you a kind smile when you thanked him for the ride before you opened the door to the brisk night air. “Y/n wait…”

“What?”

“I know you’re not really into parties but…,” his words trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “There’s this movie night thing at the frat Saturday night and all of the guys are expected to bring a date. Do you maybe wanna come with me?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “You want me to be your date?”

“Yeah, if you want to be.” Even in the darkness you could see the way his cheeks reddened and he failed to look you in the eye.

“I’d love to go,” you told him truthfully and you couldn’t help but smile with him when his face lit up at your words.

“Really?! That’s, that’s great! You’re supposed to wear your pajamas by the way so I hope that’s ok with you.”

“Perfectly fine with me. Just text me the time later.”

“I will. Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Shawn.” He watched you walk into your building with a giddy smile on his face before he drove back to his frat for a sleep that he hoped included dreams of you. __________________________

“What are you getting all dolled up for?”

You look over from where you’re doing your hair to see Natalie laying on her bed staring at you with curious eyes. “I’m going to movie night with Shawn.”

“You’re going to movie night with Shawn?!” Natalie exclaimed, her eyes practically bursting out of her head.

“Yeah, he asked me to go with him as his date.” You tried to keep your calm in front of her and not show how excited you truly were, but your smile was fighting to break free on your face.

“Is he picking you up?”

“No, I’m probably just going to walk or maybe get an uber.”

“Walk? Honey, no. Connor is picking me up, I’ll just text him and ask if he can drive you, too.”

“You don’t need to do that…”

“Nonsense, there’s no reason for you to walk when I’m literally driving to the same place.” Natalie quickly grabbed her phone to text something to Connor before getting up out of bed to walk over and fluff your finally curled hair.

“What’s going on with you and Connor anyways?”

“Oh, we’re just friends with benefits for now,” Natalie said dreamly, her hands separating your curls to make them more natural as she spoke, “But we decided that we’re going to be exclusive. No more arguments about that I guess.” You nodded your head thoughtfully, carefully examining your appearance in the mirror. “Why are you getting ready so early? We don’t have to leave for another two hours.”

“I know, but I thought you’d have to use the curler and mirror, too, so I figured I’d get done early so you could have enough room to do everything.”

“You’re the sweetest ever,” she told you, kissing the top of your head making you scrunch your nose. “Do you want me to do your makeup for you?”

“I’m not sure, I just want to do something natural.” You examined your face with much criticism, trying to decide what you wanted to do to hopefully make you look more appealing to Shawn. You didn’t just think that did you? You’re not really trying to impress Shawn tonight, right? The butterflies in your stomach told you otherwise and you cursed yourself for the thoughts that were taking over your head.

“I can do that,” Nat responded quickly, “Easy. Now what I’m concerned about is what you’re wearing tonight.”

“I was planning on wearing some sweatpants and a tank top or maybe one of my patching pajama tops and bottoms. I wasn’t sure yet.”

“See this is where we’re going to have an issue. Don’t you want to wear something a bit more revealing? Want to impress Shawn a little bit? I have a slip you can borrow if you want or…”

“No, I’m all set, I just want to be comfortable. I appreciate the concern, but you know it’s not me to wear something like that out in public. It makes me uneasy.”

“I know, I know. Let’s just focus on getting your makeup looking absolutely perfect just like you.” __________________________

Connor pulled up to the frat house before unlocking the car door for you and slinging an arm around Natalie’s seat to look back at you, “Why don’t you go in and meet up with Shawn, we’ll be in in one second.” You gave him a forced smile and a small thank you as Natalie giggled and you rolled your eyes the second you got out, happy to finally be away from their never ending teasing of one another. You made your way up to the door of the frat and knocked loud enough to be heard, transferring your weight back and forth out of nervousness. The door opened not long after revealing your date for the night looking as cozy as ever in a pair of grey sweatpants and a cotton white t-shirt. His eyes subtly looked you up and down with a smile on his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you breathed out, letting yourself admire him the way he was you.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, you look extremely comfy and nice as well.”

“Why thank you, I like the plaid.” You looked down at your plaid sleep pants and tighter fitted grey long sleeve you had on top, your cheeks blushing red at his comment.

“I know I probably am not dressed up like a lot of the other girls, but I just wanted to be comfortable…”

“Stop it, I think you look amazing. Now come inside, I already have a spot for us.” You followed him through the frat house until you came into the kitchen that looked a little different now that it wasn’t filled to the brim with alcohol. “Do you want any hot chocolate? Or tea?”

“I’ll have hot chocolate please.”

“Good choice, good choice,” he chuckled, pouring some of the boiling water into two mugs. “You know, I’m kinda surprised Natalie didn’t force you to wear some form of lingerie like a lot of the girls are.”

“She tried to convince me to, but I didn’t want to. I’m just as surprised as you are though that she let me get away with this.”

“Well, I think it’s better that you came here comfortable rather than wearing any of that.” He handed you your cup, warning you of how hot it was. “Speaking of Natalie, where are her and Connor?”

“Still in the car, they kicked me out right when we got here.”

“Typical,” Shawn snorted before making his way into the living room with you trailing behind him. The room was already about half the way full with couples, if you could even call them that, and the room had a much cozier vibe than what you had previously seen it as. There were blankets everywhere and snacks piled up onto all of the tables. There were a few guys and girls that were obviously not too interested in their date and were mingling with other people instead and some that were extremely interested in their date to the point where it was almost obnoxious. “I got us the seat in the corner by the table. You can put your mug there if you want and those blankets that are there are ours, too. I’m just going to run to the bathroom quickly so you can wait there until I come back or you can go somewhere else.” He kissed your cheek lightly, leaving you with a heated face before he left you alone in the room. You swore you could feel the hard stares of the breathtaking girls around you and you sank yourself down into the couch, desperately wishing Shawn hadn’t left you here by yourself.

You sat there for almost ten minutes before you had decided that you were finished being the target for the judgemental looks and whispers from those around you, peeling yourself out of your spot before heading towards what you were praying was the bathrooms in hopes of running into Shawn on the way. Just as you rounded the corner you could faintly make out a female voice and you snuck your head around only to be met with a sight that made your heart drop. There she was, the drop dead gorgeous head cheerleader you knew had been in Shawn’s sheets multiple times before, with her hand on your date’s chest, that mischievous glint in her eyes that was laced with lust. Shawn’s hands were wrapped around her wrists and although you couldn’t hear their words, you couldn’t help but feel betrayed at the whole situation. Here you are, being made a fool of in front of all of these people who have always seemed to despise you from the start. You finally started letting your guard down for Shawn and what do you get in return? A stabbing pain in your heart. Tears began prickling in your eyes before you turned straight on your heels to head out of the frat without a second thought in your mind.

Just as you were about to reach the door, it opened for you, Natalie and Connor entering with giddy smiles on their faces. But at the sight of you, Natalie’s smile dropped, “Hun, what happened?”

“Nothing, I think I might head out.”

“What?” She made a signal to Connor so that he’d leave the two of you alone and he agreed, whispering something in her ear before moving past you. “Ok, now tell me what happened. You were so happy about coming tonight!” With tears threatening to fall down your face, you told her exactly what you saw from the moment you stepped into the house and before you knew it, you were encased in her arms, her hands rubbing comforting circles on your back. “I’m so sorry, baby. He doesn’t deserve you if he’s going to let her get away with that.”

“Am I stupid to be so affected by this?”

“No, that was a dick move on his part and you are allowed to feel upset about it. What we’re not going to do though is leave, you hear me? Two can play at this game.”

“What do you mean?”

“I meannn, let’s give him a taste of his own medicine. Come on, follow me.” She wiped underneath your eyes before leading you back into the living room towards the couch on the opposite side. Two guys you recognized from the frat were sitting there alone and when you noticed Natalie walking over to them confidently, your heart stopped.

“Nat, what are we doing?”

“Just trust me on this...Hey guys!” The two guys looked up at the sound of her voice, a heavy smirk on both of their lips. “You got any extra room for a little bit?”

“Be my guest,” the blonde one responded and Natalie wasted no time in pushing you to sit next to them.

You stumbled slightly onto the couch, but recovered quickly, sending a light wave to the guys, “Hi.”

They both greeted you back with a smile, leaving Natalie to be quite satisfied as she whispered in your ear, “Be back soon,” and then she was gone.

You weren’t close enough to the guys that it would be considered dangerous to you, but you were definitely closer than you would usually be with some strangers that you had literally just met. The conversation flowed easily between the three of you, not as easily as it did between you and Shawn though, and you found yourself constantly glancing towards the entryway in case he decided to make an appearance. Just as one of the frat members announced that the movie was starting in five minutes Shawn made his way into the living room, his eyes spotting you immediately. You could see his jaw clench from the corner of your eye and the way his eyes hardened was not easy to miss. This only made you up the antics a little more, with a hand moving to the shoulder of the guy closest to you before the sound of your name being called from across the room caught your attention, as well as everyone else’s in the room. You looked over to see Shawn staring at you coldly, his head nodding at the seat he had for you as a signal for you to come back. “Thanks for the seat boys, but I better be heading back,” you told them with a cheeky smile that they returned to you before heading over towards Shawn. You could feel the strong gaze of the other couples and you desperately wished that you could curl in on yourself and disappear. Once you were close enough to him he pulled you down harshly into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and whispering in your ear, “What the hell were you doing over there?”

You wriggled out of his arms, but still laid next to him, allowing him to bring the blanket up and over you with his arm around you. “I was making some new friends to keep me company since you were so busy with Vanessa when you were supposed to be just using the bathroom.”

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, “Listen, I don’t know what you saw, but…”

“I don’t want to hear it Shawn, I just want to watch the movie and leave.”

“No, I want you to listen to me because I can see how you might have taken this the wrong way.”

“Was there a right way to take it?” you whispered back angrily, feeling his arm tighten around you so that he could bring his mouth closer to your ear.

“Not from your point of view, but I swear I didn't mean to hurt you. I haven’t been answering her texts for the last two months and threatened to block her last week and she was all butthurt about it, saying that she wanted things to go back to when she could call me for a booty call whenever she felt like it. And I don’t want that anymore. I’ve got my eye on someone right now and I wouldn’t mess up my chance with her like that.”

“If you have your eye on someone then why didn’t you bring her tonight?”

“I did.” You looked up at him as the lights were turned off and you caught a glimpse of his eyes before he was facing the screen and pulling you closer to his chest. You snuggled into him and wrapped your arm around his body too, leaving the both of you with graceful smiles on your faces. __________________________

Of course the guys had picked a scary movie for the night, causing you to squeeze Shawn a little tighter at every jump scare. He didn’t mind though, it only gave him an excuse to pull you closer to him and press light, comforting kisses into your hair. Somewhere between the halfway point of the movie when you tucked your head into Shawn’s chest at a particularly frightening scene and the end of the movie, you found yourself dozing off, eventually falling into a light slumber cuddled up against him. The even beating of his heart lulled you to sleep until you felt him shaking you softly, whispering your name into your ear. “Hey, the movie’s over.”

“Oh,” you sat up and tried to comb back your slightly messed up hair, seeing the other couples retreat to their respective rooms, “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t be, you look cute when you’re comfy.” His words caused your cheeks to heat up and you situated yourself to try and hide your face from him. “Are you ready to go back to sleep?”

“Yeah, I should probably head out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m ready to fall back asleep...which means that I need to go home so I can go to sleep in my bed.” You looked back at him with furrowed brows that matched his.

“Y/n, it’s two in the morning, why don’t you just stay here. No one else is leaving.”

“You don’t have a spare room though…”

“You can sleep in my room, I’ll sleep on the floor if you feel too uncomfortable.”

“No Shawn, I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. If you’re so adamant about me staying then we might as well share it.”

“Are you sure you’re ok with that?”

“I’m a big girl, Shawn, I think I can handle sleeping in a bed with you for one night.”

Shawn let out a laugh that was music to your ears before extending a hand to you that you gladly accepted. His hand engulfed yours perfectly and you stumbled as he pulled you up off the couch because you were too busy trying to memorize the feeling of his hand in yours. “Careful there, honey,” his sweet voice drawed out, “You’re even more tired than I thought. Can hardly stand on two feet.” He escorted you hand in hand to his bedroom, which was much cleaner than you would have imagined. There were a couple guitars on stands, a piano in the corner, some hockey gear half stuffed into a bag on the floor, all things that perfectly described Shawn to you. He slid into his bed, adjusting himself under the covers before looking at you with a boyish grin and beckoning you towards him. You sat down next to him, playing with your hands awkwardly. “You ok?” You nodded your head. “I can put up a pillow barrier if you want, I have to admit I tend to be a cuddler.”

You giggled, imagining you waking up to find him snuggled up against a pillow between the two of you. “It’s ok, I don’t think we need a pillow barrier.”

“Suit yourself.” He turned off the light, getting even more comfortable in his bed and turning towards the wall. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight, Shawn.” __________________________

The deep scent of oak and cinnamon should have woken you up. The heavy weight slung across your stomach should have woken you up. The unusual heat that was spreading across your back should have woken you up. But instead, they all just kept you in a peaceful slumber as the morning light streamed in through the window.

Shawn was the first to awake. Breathing in your comforting scent, he squeezed you a little tighter, not quite realizing what he was doing. The moment you pushed back into him in an effort to get impossibly closer to him his senses became wide awake, suddenly making him on high alert to how close you were to him. He couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if you woke up to find the two of you like this, but when he tried to untangle himself from you and you subconsciously gripped his arm tighter, pulling him back to you, he gave up the fight and let himself get lost in the moment. Against his better judgment he placed his lips to your hair, leaving feathery kisses in their wake. Your body began to move slowly as you came to a consciousness, but Shawn continued to kiss down your neck until he finished with a soft one on your shoulder. “Good morning,” he rasped, looking at you through his lashes.

“Good morning.” The second you came to a full realization of what was happening your body froze, not quite able to process the exact situation. The immense heat that was radiating off of him was too soothing for you to resist though and soon your body fell slack against his just as it was while you were asleep.

“How’d you sleep?” Shawn asked, tracing his finger across your cheek bone.

“Like a baby.”

“Good to hear.” His stomach rumbled, making a laugh escape out of him, “And that is good to hear too, I guess. You want to go get some breakfast.”

Deep inside you wanted to say no and selfishly keep him close to you all morning long, “That sounds perfect.”

Your body became cold the second he left your side and you shivered slightly from the temperature change. “You ok?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” you lied, grabbing his hand to help you out of bed. He pulled your body close to his, looking at you deeply with those gorgeous brown eyes of his.

“Were you uncomfortable this morning?”

“No,” you stuttered, feeling small as he towered over you even if you didn’t find him intimidating, if anything the words coming out of his mouth were more intimidating than him.

“Why not?”

His body came closer to you with each word until you were backed up against the wall, his chest pressing against yours. “What?”

“I asked you why you weren’t uncomfortable.” His face was so close to you that you could see every last detail of his skin, including a scar on his cheek that you didn’t happen to notice before, but made him look all the more endearing to you.

“Because I trust you.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

You could tell by the way that his eyebrow quirked up that he didn’t believe your wavering voice, “Are you telling me the truth? Because I want to know if you feel the same way about me that I do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I made it quite obvious,” he chuckled, “I really, really like you, Y/n. I was hoping maybe this morning was a sign that you felt the same way…”

“It was,” you breathed out quickly, not wanting this moment to fade away. “I like you too, Shawn.”

His lips fanned over yours and your breath hitched in your throat, desperately waiting for him to move the final inch. “I’m not going to kiss you,” he told you, watching the light in your eyes dim and cast down to the ground, “Hey, look at me.” Shawn grabbed your chin gently, pulling your eyes back up to his, “It’s not because I don’t want to, it’s because it feels wrong to do it without going on a date first. You understand?” You nodded your head sadly, making him let out a quiet laugh, “But I would like to take you out on a date if you’d let me.”

“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Perfect,” he leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose, “Now let’s go down and eat breakfast. I’m absolutely starving.” __________________________

Are you free Tuesday night? Sorry, I just couldn’t wait to ask you

The message came through the second you stepped through the door to your dorm room. Natalie and Connor had woken up later than you and Shawn, so Shawn had offered to drive you home instead. You looked out your small window that happened to be facing the street and were met with his jeep still parked next to the curb. His eyes met yours causing the two of you to smile and you could practically hear his laugh from three floors up.

I’m free all night

Perfect, see you then I’ll pick you up x

Can’t wait x __________________________

The rest of the weekend seemed to drag on until your classes came again on Monday to distract your mind from the next day. It didn’t help that you and Shawn were texting almost every second of the day since you two had parted, only adding to your anticipation.

After seeming as though it would never arrive, Tuesday night came upon you, bringing you back to the same chair this all started with. Natalie was over the moon when you told her about your date, immediately wanting to know everything about it and what outfit you were planning on wearing. She had you propped up in what she called her “makeup chair” making sure your makeup and hair were the best they had ever looked. You had chosen a simple sweater and leggings, hoping that you looked nice enough while still managing to stay warm and comfortable. Shawn hadn’t told you where you were going yet, stating that it had to be kept a surprise, so you worked with what you had in order to have an appropriate outfit.

At six o’clock sharp Shawn was waiting outside, leaning against his jeep on his phone was a bouquet of flowers in one hand. His eyes flickered to the door anytime he heard a noise, but at the sight of you he stood up straight, hands pocketing his phone before he was headed straight towards you. “Hey, you look beautiful.”

“And you look as handsome as always.”

A blush formed on his cheeks at your words and he handed you the flowers bashfully, ducking his head down to avoid your gaze. “These are for you.”

“They’re gorgeous, thank you.” He sent you a bright smile as he took your hand to lead you around the car, opening the door for you to slide inside.

“Will you tell me where we’re going now?” you asked as soon as he slid into the driver's seat.

“Not yet, gotta keep the suspense up,” he teased, his hand coming up to lace his fingers with yours on the center console. “I hope you’re hungry though.”

“If we’re being honest I’m always hungry.”

“Then this is going to work out great.” The ride was short and before you knew it you were turning into a parking lot of a small old-fashioned diner a few minutes off of campus. Shawn parked the car, running around the jeep quickly to open the door for you. You smiled at his kind gesture and took his outstretched hand for you to walk inside together.

The two of you were sat inside of a booth across from each other as you scanned the menus. Shawn hardly looked at his before he was nodding his head and leaning back in his seat to look at you, “Got any idea of what you’re getting?”

“Um, not really. Have you been here before?”

“More times than I can remember. I usually go here after practice late at night because it’s open until like three in the morning.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Well I always get the cheeseburger with no tomato, a chocolate milkshake, and extra fries…”

“Extra fries? You eat that many fries?”

Shawn laughed, a wide smile forming on his face, “Most of the time yes, but if I don’t I just bring them back to the frat house. They’re always gone a couple seconds after I set them down.”

“Hmm, I can't decide if I want a chocolate shake like you or an oreo one. What do you think?”

“I think you should get an oreo one and then we can share them both.” You looked over your menu at him with a small smile, watching his eyes light up as he returned your expression.

“Then that’s what I’ll do.” The waitress came over and you ordered the same thing as Shawn, except with tomatoes, different shake, and of course, no extra fries. Once your milkshakes came out, he requested two extra straws, winking at you as he slid them in.

“So,” he began, sipping on his chocolate milkshake, “Do you think you’re going to come to more hockey games this season?”

“I’m not sure, I guess I’d need a good reason to go,” you smirked at him, taking a sip of yours as well.

“I’m pretty sure I could give you a good reason.” He looked around to make sure no one was looking, but fortunately you two were the only ones in there besides another couple on the other side. Shawn grabbed your hand and leaned forward, his nose brushing against yours. Your heart started beating faster until his lips were right against yours, but you faltered when he froze. The look in his eyes was pleading with you to let him continue so you took control instead, closing the small gap between the two of you. His free hand cradled your cheek as his lips moved with yours, keeping you close to him. It was short and innocent, but it was enough to leave your head spinning and heart pounding. Your lips chased his once he moved back, desperately wanting to feel the softness of them on yours once again, causing him to laugh with a smile before giving you a peck to satisfy you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“I doubt it was that long,” you mumbled, eyes focusing on where his thumb was rubbing the top of your hand.

“What makes you say that?”

“No guy has ever really been into me before.”

“I think that’s a lie. Besides, I’ve wanted that since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” He brought your hand to his lips to leave a lingering kiss on it, “You would’ve noticed if your head wasn’t stuck in a book.”

“Didn’t know it was bad to try to be at the top of my class.”

“It isn’t. I think it’s great that you’re at the top of the class list. Now you’re on the top of two lists.”

“Two lists?” you asked, watching as he smiled and leaned forward to try to steal another kiss.

“Yeah, the school’s and mine.”

844 notes · View notes

whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years ago

Text

Come As You Are

Summary: Dean takes Y/n dress shopping for a hunt, both of them blissfully unaware of where it will lead.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.9K+

Warnings: Language, self-esteem and body image struggles, public intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it)

Author’s Note: This was written for an anonymous request,

“Hey babe I don’t know if your taking requests but I had a groovy idea dean x shy plus reader where they have to get the reader nice sexy clothes but she feels really uncomfortable in them and refuses to leave the dressing room and dean confess how he feels and they have sex in the dressing room ? Fluff and smut”

I truly enjoyed writing it so I hope it lives up to your expectations anon. Remember, feedback is like crack to writers, and we always love to hear what you thought xoxo Alex

Consider checking out a book from Alexandra’s Library!

A frown etched itself on her face as she ran her hand over the fabrics hanging from the racks. All of it felt foreign underneath her fingertips. Satin, chiffon, and everything else that was far more expensive than she was used to. Y/n’s wardrobe mostly consisted of denim and polyester blends that tended to fray after two washes. It was all that a hunter could afford, after all.

“How in the hell are we gonna afford any of this crap?” She whispered to Dean, who was eyeing the rack behind her, the gowns in front of him all a deep shade of red.

“Charlie’s miracle card, remember? There is no limit,” Dean raised his brow at her, a grin etched across his perfect face.

“Fine,” she groaned. “I still don’t see why I even need to go dress shopping, I’m sure I could find something in my closet.”

“I’ve seen your closet, and none of it is right for this case. You’ve got to distract the coroner for the night and you can’t do that in baggy jeans and flannel.” Dean huffed as he picked a dress off the rack. Y/n’s eyes went wide as she took it in, the hem was short for anyone’s standards, then add in the plunging neckline and this dress left nothing to the imagination.

“That is so not happening,” Y/n pointed at the offensive garment, her stomach fluttering at the simple idea of even trying to slip into it. Every spot on her body that she hated would be on full display in that thing. Her thick thighs, the roll that sat on her bra just under her arms, and don’t get her started on her abdomen.

“Come on, just try it. You never know ‘till you try it on.”

“Ugh,” Y/n snatched the dress from his hand before stalking off to look at more dresses. There were a couple more options that she grabbed to try on that were closer to her comfortability level. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be caught dead in any of the items in her arms. But Dean had this way about him, always able to convince her to do anything without question. Maybe it was the way his skin crinkled around his eyes or the brightness that always seemed to live behind those deliciously green eyes? Who was she kidding, it was all of that and then some. The huntress had fallen hard for him from that first meeting. Sometimes she wondered why she chose to torture herself.

Dean Winchester was the cream of the crop when it came to hunters, as was his baby brother, Sam. The whole world knew who they were, including heaven and hell, so how could she be expected to resist him when he smiled at her the way he does. Or even when he made her coffee in the mornings just how she liked it and picked up chocolate and pain killers for her when he knew it was that time of the month. He was exceedingly attentive to her, something that she was sure he only directed at Sam. It was just another thing that surprised her about the legend of a man.

Yeah, like an idiot she fell for the eldest Winchester. There was no stopping it even though she was certain that her feelings would never be reciprocated. Y/n wasn’t like the other woman that Dean went for when he was on the prowl at bars. It’s not that she was ugly, it was that she was plain at best. People didn’t turn their heads when she walked in the room, men’s gazes didn’t linger on her from across the bar, no, Y/n was merely average. That’s how she knew that Dean would never see her as more than a friend because he had never looked at her in any form of want.

“Are you ready to try those on?” A sales woman’s voice broke her out of her unrelenting train of thought. Dean answered for her before she could process the woman’s words.

“Yes, please.” He smiled brightly and Y/n watched as the woman’s face flushed under his gaze. Y/n almost felt bad for the woman who was now just another victim to his charm. The saleswoman at least would be able to relish in his attention, wondering about what could have been had Y/n not been there with him. Y/n on the other hand already knew her fate. But mostly, if she was being honest, she was jealous.

Dean put his hands on her shoulders and guided her along behind the boutique worker who took them into the back of the store where the dressing rooms were located. The area was mostly quiet, just the music from the speakers could be heard in the space. Three large mirrors sat in front of a stage on the far wall, the rooms spaning out on either side of it. In the center of the room were three plush chairs for those waiting for others to sit in.

The worker unlocked a door for her as Dean plopped down in one of the chairs. Y/n slipped behind the door, letting out a deep breath as it closed behind her. If there was one thing she hated it was trying on clothes. Nothing ever seemed to fit her right or look anything like what it did on the hanger. It made the task a constant battle with her self-consciousness.

Y/n had always carried extra weight on her body. It wasn’t that she didn’t live an active lifestyle, she was a hunter, after all, it was the diet that hunters were accustomed to. It was fast food and dives in every small town in America. Not many mom and pop places tended to offer an egg white omelet, and it wasn’t her inclination to eat them either. So, she had always been bigger than most, and if she was being honest she had grown used to that. Maybe she used it as a shield to protect herself. Making connections with people as a hunter only tended to end in heartbreak, so this was easier.

The hunter hid the scary red thing Dean had selected behind all the rest of her haul, hoping she would find something before she ever even got to the thing. Y/n stripped from her flannel and jeans tossing them on the bench in the corner. She also added her bra to the pile, knowing all of these garments necessitated that she did not wear one. That left her in her favorite pair of panties. They weren’t anything special, but they made her butt looked its best.

The first dress in the line up was a straight black dress that hit just above her knee. The neckline wasn’t anything too crazy but the sleeves rolled off the shoulders a strip of fabric wrapping around her bust. Y/n was able to slip it on and tug up the zipper on the side. With a slide of her hands against the fabric, she frowned at her reflection. Not that it would flatter any figure, in her opinion.

“What’s taking so long in there?” Dean called out from his spot in front of the mirrors.

“I’m not coming out in this thing,” she called back as she began to take the dress back off.

“Oh, come on sweetheart,”

“Nope, next,” Y/n heard him huff even through the door and she imagined he rolled his eyes as well.

The next dress was a deep blue color. It had a wrap and pencil skirt, with an asymmetrical shape between the hem and the neckline. She supposed it was pretty but it also kind of looked like she had wrapped herself in a towel. Mostly, she felt like the point in the neckline was going to stab her in the throat, and she was not sure how to be sexy when she was trying not to die. It was another pass for her.

There was only one dress left, and at that moment she was wishing to whoever was listening that she had picked out a few more choices. Dean was whistling now, some Zeppelin tune she couldn’t exactly identify and she knew he was getting impatient. Y/n swapped the fabrics on her body, pulling the thin straps of the red satin piece up onto her shoulders. The dress clung to her skin, the fabric lightweight.

“Y/n/n,” Dean’s voice was just outside the door, the new proximity of it startling her. “Come on, you have to show me at least one. I know you and you’ll just try vetoing them all.” Y/n swore under her breath because he was right and it pissed her off that he knew her that well. The zipper was out of her reach on her back and she supposed she wouldn’t be able to truly see what it looked like on her unless she zipped it up.

“Fine, I need help with this zipper anyway,” she sighed and held the fabric against her naked chest while opening the door with her other. Dean was beaming when he came into view on the other side of the door. He snuck inside faster than a flea, the slamming of the door startling her again.

Get it together woman, you kill monsters for a living, Y/n cursed herself.

“Turn,” Dean instructed her with his fingers, and the woman obliged as she faced the mirror. Dean brushed her hair off her shoulder with his fingertips, the action barely distinguishable but it sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. With one hand holding the bottom stop, he used the other to tug on the pull tab, sliding together the teeth in one fluid motion.

“Thanks,” Y/n’s words were soft as she made eye contact with the green-eyed hunter in the mirror. He ran his tongue of his bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh between his teeth as his eyes wandered over her exposed skin.

Y/n visibly cringed as she looked at herself. Unfortunately, this was her favorite out of the three, but that didn’t mean she felt like she could venture anywhere in public in the thing. “Sweetheart, if that coroner hadn’t already been eyeing you up today, he would not know where to start when he sees you in this.”

“Shut up,” Y/n scrunched her nose as she spun around to whack Dean’s shoulder. “You are so full of it.”

“Am not,” Dean scoffed, his eye softening before he continued. “Y/n, why don’t you see how beautiful you are?”

Y/n whipped around to stare at him, her arms crossing over her chest, not believing that those words come out of his mouth. Surely, he was playing with her…

“Have you looked at me, Dean?” Y/n slapped her hands against her thighs, emphasizing their jiggle upon impact. “I’m nothing special.”

“I have looked at you,” His gaze traveled down her body again, his breath hitching slightly as he did so. “I’ve been looking at you for a while now.” The drop in Dean’s voice sent heat rushing through her body, the gravel undertone making her shiver.

“Dean--” words escaped her as the hunter stepped into her personal space, pushing her back against the mirror. Dean’s left hand came to rest against the reflective surface just beside her head as he chewed on his lip.

“I don’t think you know how hard it is for me to keep my eyes off of you,” he leaned into her, his nose brushing alongside hers. “And now, seeing you in this dress, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off you.”

A rush of confidence coursed through her blood as his hot breath fanned over her face and Y/n slipped her hands behind his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. The movement was anything but smooth, though the action sent both of the hunters into action. Dean growled as he nipped her lower lip and she opened up to him, allowing his tongue to invade her mouth.

A moan involuntarily came from her as his hands moved to her hips, the heat of his skin seeping through the thin material where his finger pressed into her flesh. He stepped back, pulling her after him as he backed up and dropped to sit on the plush bench. Dean bunched up the material to her hips as he urged her to straddle his lap. Y/n used her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the new bulge in his pants a surprise to her as she settled in his lap.

“Yeah, and you thought I was kidding,” Dean took in the slight rise in her brow, leaning forward to run his lips across her jaw, taking note of the places that made her shiver. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she allowed Dean to explore her body and let herself just feel him. Dean raked his teeth along with the shell of her ear, causing her to buck her hips and both of them to groan.

“Fuck,” her words were a breath on her lips as she repeated the action, the roughness of his jeans just enough friction on her aching sex.

“That’s it, beautiful, take what you need,” Dean sat back and used his hands to keep her body moving against his own, watching the way her brows scrunched together in the center of her forehead. With a shift of his hips, he had her pushed back and straddling his left thigh, his hands still in their place on her hips. “Can you come like this, sweetheart?”

“I don’t--” a jolt of electricity had her halting her denial, instead she chose to just nod and place her hands against his chest to balance her movement. She could feel Dean’s heart hammering in his chest under her palm and the quick rise and fall of his breath. Even at this moment, she was disbelieving that he was that turned on watching her get herself off on his thigh, but she had the proof hammering under her fingertips. Y/n was biting her lip to keep quiet in the small room. “Dean, I’m so close.”

“I’ve got you, come for me, Y/n,” he husked as his grip tightened, though she wasn’t sure how that was even possible, seeing as there was already gonna be bruises there later, that she was sure of. The sound of his voice reverberating in her head had the coil snapping inside of her, heat flooding her body as every nerve sparked and faded out. A rush of air left her lungs, her body slumping as her muscles relaxed post-orgasm.

“Oh my god.” As her arousal ebbed from her body and the reality of what just happened came to her sense, Y/n clammed up and she tried to climb from his lap. Blood rushed to her face and her hands flew to her cheeks to hide the heat settling there.

“Woah, where are you going?” Dean stopped her from making a hasty exit, his eyes searching hers in question.

“Dean, what the hell just happened?”

A smirk replaced the confusion on his face as he leaned forward and nuzzled his face in her neck, tracing his tongue up her pulse. “You just got yourself off on my thigh while I tried not to cream my jeans,” he breathed in her ear. It was like he already knew every button to push on her body, his dirty talk doing everything she needed it to for her body to already be aching for him again.

“I--”

“Shh, sweetheart. That was hot as fuck, and all I want now is to be buried deep inside that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Jesus,” her eyes shifted to his, taking in the mischievous glint shining behind his iris. “You aren’t kidding.”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ at the end of his word and Y/n nodded as she climbed off him. She turned her back to him so he could undo the zipper, and it took a second for Dean to catch on to her silent action. He jumped to the edge of the bench and tugged down the zipper before sliding the material down her shoulders. Dean hooked his fingers into the edge of her panties, placing a kiss on the dip in her lower back before pulling the soaked material to pool at her feet along with the dress. He stood then as she turned back to him and pushed his jacket and flannel down his arms, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes in the room.

“Come, on we don’t have a lot of time before someone gets suspicious.” There was a quiver in her voice as she lifted the hem of his tee and tugged open his belt. It was taking everything in her to quell the shaking in her hands. Dean’s fingers came down to wrap around her wrists, halting her movement and she looked up at him.

“Y/n we don’t have to,” he was trying to read her mind as he examined her face. The trepidation was seeping through her pores, but not because she didn’t want this. Hell, the painful ache between her legs told her how much she wanted this, but her brain couldn’t help to race through the million thoughts about what it all meant.

“No, I-- God do I want this,” Y/n began chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tried to come up with the words to explain to him what she was thinking. But the longer the time passed the more nervous she grew, standing there stark naked and he’s still basically fully dressed. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time now, but I’m just scared.”

“Of?” He urged her to continue.

“That this doesn’t mean the same thing to you,” Y/n cast her glance down, her eyes fixated on the way the fluorescent light glinted in the metal of his belt.

“You think that this is about getting my dick wet for me.” It wasn’t a question, because she had all but spelled it out for him. “Y/n,” He put his fingers under her chin and turned her head back up to his, brushing his lips against hers, the action soft and unhurried. “I told you, I’ve been watching you for a while now, trying to learn everything I could about you. I would have done this the first night I met you if I hadn’t thought about what it would do to you. But I’m done being scared because I think I fell for you a long time ago and no amount of whiskey or other women could make me forget that. So I’m done fighting it.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears now, and Dean answered her with another kiss, pulling her body flush against his own as he invaded her mouth. The pair only pulled apart when they could no longer fight the need for air. “Dean--”

“Yeah,” he breathed, dropping his grip on her to finish what she started with his belt. Y/n watched his movements, her breath getting caught in her throat as she watched him pull his length from its cotton confines. Dean signaled for her to turn with one hand as he stroked himself with the other. She obliged, of course, and Dean pushed her gently between her shoulder blades until her hands were pressed against the mirror. He nudged her legs to open a tad wider, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

“Do we--”

“I’m good if you’re good,” she told him, knowing where he was going with his question. He nodded to her before lining himself up with her entrance. Dean held her gaze as he entered her from behind, both of them sighing together as he became fully seated. Y/n closed her eyes as she tried to compose herself, her head falling between her arms.

“Fuck, open your eyes, look at yourself,” Dean was biting his tongue as he swatted her ass to get her to lift her head again. She indulged him, looking at herself in the mirror before turning her eyes back to his in the mirror. “There you go,” he praised her, the words like music to her ears as he pulled back out and slammed into her hips.

Dean set up a steady rhythm, careful to not shake the walls of the dressing too much with his movement. The couple kept their eyes on each other in the mirror, the moment the most erotic thing she could ever remember doing, but for the life of her, she couldn’t be bothered by it. Even from her vantage point, she could see how blown his pupils were, the black of his iris’ all but drowning out the green that she loved so much. To be honest, she wasn’t sure which she liked more now. All she did know was the feeling of him moving inside her and the way her muscles were shaking.

A small knock had Dean stilling his movements, and Y/n stood up, pressing her back against his chest. He slipped an arm around her chest as she signaled for him to be silent. “You doing alright in there?”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and let out a breath, “Yeah,” she called back, afraid her voice would be too wrecked if she said anything else.

“Is there anything else I can get you? Maybe some different sizes?” The saleswoman tried again.

“Nope, I’m all set, thank you.”

“Okay, just let me know.” The sound of her footsteps could be heard retreating from the dressing room, and Dean pressed his face into her neck, the pair of them chuckling.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he adjusted their position, resuming the movement of his hips as he snaked his free hand down to rub against her clit. Y/n jolted in his arms at the contact, this time closing her eyes as he built her back up. “I’m right behind you. Can you come for me again?” Y/n nodded against him, her hands flying to his forearm as she felt herself jumping over the cliff, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her knees buckled and Dean had to adjust himself to keep her from falling, still fucking her from behind as her fluttering walls milked him to his own orgasm. He bit into her shoulder to keep himself from groaning out loud.

“Sweet Jesus,” her body went limp in his arms as the pair of them caught their breath in the now muggy space.

“Yeah, you are so not going out with that coroner tonight. We will find a different way.” Dean admitted as he pulled his now softening cock from her. Y/n flinched at the feeling and the subsequent rush of his release inside her.

“What?” She turned to him as he began righting himself, not understanding why he didn’t want her to do her job.

“‘Cause you are all mine now,” Dean tugged her into his chest, his fingers around one of her biceps. “And I want to spend all night making sure you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Dean laughed as she blinked at him, clearly lost for any sort of coherent answer to what he just told her.

“Get dressed so we can get out of here and kick Sammy out of our motel room.” Dean tapped her ass again and she pushed him away from her, a stupid grin on both of their faces.

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