#that song of hers hits personally. Just cuts deep.

[prompt-master]

If you love yourself you'll listen to seventyseven dog years by underscores (and also every single song made by her ever)

[0mg-bird]

Sunrise~ Tyler Owens x Fem! Reader

Summary: The curious case of the tornado wranglers, down to earth, girlfriend.

A/n: I just watched Twisters and am in love. Right now Sunrise by Ryan Bingham is my favorite song so here’s a little one shot inspired by it.

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Everyone’s called you crazy ever since you were born. The people in your small Texas town said you were the wild child, your parents had four boys and when their baby girl came around, she had a mean streak just like her brothers. Ten years old and standing in an empty corn field, looking at the thunder heads forming above you, hot and muggy air gusting against your skin, the crack of thunder didn’t scare you, you were utterly curious and amazed. You’ve known storms since you were a babe, you remember the shrill sound of the sirens going off and your mama screaming for you to come inside. Your family was in a panic, you remember your daddy letting the horses loose and the way the cattle ran. That funnel touched down and prayers were prayed, you watched from the bathroom window despite the way your mama dragged you away.

It was beautiful, so utterly terrifying in the distance, a force of straight power.

You were hooked.

Telling your parents you were going to the University of Arkansas to study meteorology was a good idea in theory until they told you becoming a weather girl was a sweet job.

You told them about storm chasing and your mama almost had a stroke.

But you’ve worried everyone your whole life, only you would choose something so crazy.

You met Tyler your sophomore year when you had the same class, your energetic personality hid the fact you were a nerdy kind of cowgirl. The two of you quickly became best friends, despite his cocky personality. You formed a dare devil connection, you were the call he made when he got a lead on something.

Graduation came and you said you were going back home, he hated that idea.

“Come with me.” He said.

“Where?”

“Anywhere, everywhere.”

It’s hard to say no to a man with puppy dog eyes.

Somewhere between gathering a crew up from all over the boons and adopting a one eyed dog you found stranded after a storm in Little Rock, the two of you fell so deep for each other, it hit harder than any storm you experienced.

Here you are now in Oklahoma, cutting through fields in Tyler’s red Ram truck. “Lilly, talk to me.” You call over the radio system on the dash, looking for what data the girl in the vehicle following has. In the backseat, Boone, the right hand man, is recording like always, talking to the followers.

“Welcome back guys, we’re currently back at it again in the Oklahoma plains. This beauty we’re going into is gaining speed, turning into something good. What are we thinking, Tex?”

You look to the camera and smile. “You know, I’d like to call this an easy F2 but the strong updraft we’re getting here could push this baby into the F3 category.”

Also from the back seat, Ben, the London journalist asks to explain what you just said.

The rain cap starts and muddies the earth, the truck drifts as Tyler maneuvers it greatly. You pull your sunglasses off and lean forward to get a better look at what you’re driving into.

“What are you thinking, darlin’?” Tyler asks, seeing the way you evaluate the area.

“Take a left, it ain’t gonna hit the tree line, see the way the wind shifted?” You instruct.

“Yes ma’am.” He nods, giving you one of his perfect grins before making a sharp left.

Ben makes a sort of strangled cry of fear as he gets tossed around in the back. You, completely nonchalant, chewing on a Red Vine, turn to look at the Brit.

“Ben, baby, how you feeling back there?” You ask, pointing something else out to Tyler.

“Oh I’m bloody great.” He lies before getting knocked into the door again. You laugh. “Man, I love this guy.” You declare, finding him so amusing. “Let’s keep him, Ty.”

He rolls his eyes at you, making you scoff. You look at the dog in your lap who’s wearing a tiny helmet with the words ‘Killa’ written across the front. “What you think, Rocky? You wanna keep Ben?”

The dog lays his head down and places his paw over his small snout.

“Rude. Ty, Rock used to agree to everything I say, now you’ve done gone and brain washed him. Poor fella.” You pout before yelping in surprise at the way Tyler drifts into a spot. He grips the radio, calling for the convoy to assume their positions.

“Sorry, I’m no expert but it looks like the twister is going to roll right over us.” Ben says as everyone buckles their harnesses.

“You’re exactly right Benny boy.” You say, opening the center console and placing Rocky inside his designated safety seat. “We need to be in its path so the data bugs we’ll launch have enough wind speed to reach the height needed. Put your harness on and you’ll be about as secure as a pistol in a PTA Mama’s purse.”

Ben looks to Boone in question. Boone just shrugs. “At some point you get used to all the odd shit she says.”

Tyler cranks the E brake, then looks at you with a smirk. “You wanna touch my joystick?” He ask, motioning to the control stick that has the button to activate the drills that will anchor the truck into the ground.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” You scrunch your nose, pushing the button.

The truck is secured, you’re all buckled in tight, now you have to focus on when it’s the perfect time to launch the processors. Things are blowing against the windows, Tyler’s laughing and Boone is howling into the camera, showing the viewers what they see.

“Tell me when.” Tyler says, and as thick water drops pummel the windshield, you stay silent, waiting…watching.

“Now!” You shout and he presses the button that activates the hydraulic opening lid to the tub in the truck bed, the small bug sensors fly out and are carried up into the funnel that is passing over you.

“Breaker breaker, what are we seeing?” You call into the radio, Dexter in the caravan off in the clearing responds. “We got eyes, Tex. Data is coming in clear.”

You shoot your arms up in victory, this was the first time you were launching the 2.0 sensors. “There we go!” You look directly into the camera Boone is pointing at you. “You see that kids? I still got it.”

You watch the storm pass you, the funnel goes into the distance and the winds calm a bit as you unbuckle your harness. You’re pulling the pup from its safety and throwing open the door, running to the spot it just was.

“Whoo!” You hear Tyler whoop, and you throw that snapback hat of his you were wearing, adrenaline pumping through you. He sweeps you into his large arms, twirling you around. “Did you see that, baby? God, that was beautiful.” He laughs and you pull on the brim of his cowboy hat. “I sure did, let’s go get those bugs before we lose their signals, cowboy.”

Later as you set up camp in some cheap motel, Ben is approaching Lilly and Boone with questions.

“I need a story about the girl, uh Tex? Does she have a name?” He settles into one of the fold out chairs and motions to you sitting on the roof of the truck, looking up at the stars and listening to the music playing on the radio.

Lilly chuckles and then makes an adjustment to her drone. “She does, but she’d kill you if she found out you was using her government name in your fancy paper.”

Ben finds that interesting, he writes a few notes about a very mysterious persona you have. “How long has she been in this business? I tried to ask her some questions but she shushed me and told me she was ‘meditating to a Childers song’ and it was very important that she did this.”

Boone shakes his head. “She says confusing stuff to make people go away when she wants her peace.” He explains. “Tex is the original, her and T were the ones to assemble the squad of us, they taught me everything I know. She might be crazier than he is if I’m bein’ honest, always pushing the limits but every move she makes is calculated.”

Lilly agrees. “She’s my best friend, but has always been a curious case. She comes from Texas, hence the nickname and the accent that gets too thick when she’s drunk. Mama wanted her to be this Southern belle but she turned out to be a real wrangler. She’s the smartest person I know, but has a very relaxed way about her.”

“Who?” Dexter asks as he passes by.

“Tex.” They answer.

He shakes his head. “That girl’s a tree hugging loon.”

Ben quickly comes to know the dynamic of you and Tyler. There is no home but each other, you make the best of every situation because you are together. Two pairs of cowboy boots and wide eyes, that’s what you two are.

“I’d compare her to like…a coyote.” Lilly determines. “She’s the perfect balance of wisdom and foolishness, always willing to make light of situations. One time, we were tracking a desert storm in New Mexico and we were camping in our trucks, it was hot, all our leads were gone and we’re ready to turn back. The sunrise comes and it’s prettiest thing I ever seen, we wake up to just a color spill of orange and pink. We open our doors up and Tex is out there dancing in a sports bra and boxers.”

Boone leans back in his chair, laughing at the memory. “Man, we thought she finally lost it, that being with Tyler for so long finally made her go off the rails. T is standing there, watching her, asking what the hell she was doing and she claims she was doing a rain dance.” He says, making Ben chuckle to himself.

Lilly lights a cigarette and rolls her eyes. “She was out there shaking her ass.”

“You fucking joined her!” Boone argues, taking the cigarette from her.

“Well yeah, you don’t let your best friend dance alone. And what happened that day? The rain came and the biggest thunderheads I had ever seen blew in. The lightning was beautiful, Ben, you shoulda been there.”

New Mexico rain was a memory you thought of often, it just felt a little fresher. Blame it on the heat you were dying of or the thirsty land you stood on, but you stood out in it, getting soaked to the bone and then fell into Tyler’s arms.

Now, far away in Oklahoma, Tyler stands looking up at you soaking in the moonlight. “Come down from there.” He calls. You lean over the edge of the roof and look at him. “Why don’t you come up here?” You challenge.

Tyler shakes his head. “I’m tired, darlin’. Let me take you inside.”

You look back up at the stars, then slide from the top of the truck, making him reach out and catch you. “Alright, take me to bed you old man.”

He shakes his head at your comment. It’s hard to resist anymore, you just looked so gorgeous underneath the moonlight. He leans to kiss you, nothing too deep but still of passion because he loves tasting the sugar of your lips, you were always so sweet that it made his head cloudy.

Arm around your shoulders, yours around his waist, the two of you say goodnight to your friends and head to your motel room, Rocky trotting after you. The lock on the door is hard to budge open, the room has a sort of stale smell.

As Tyler is distracted by setting up a bed for the dog, you grab your things from your duffel. “Dibs in the bathroom.” You shout before making a run for it. Tyler groans and tries to beat you, but you stand in the doorway, sticking your tongue out at him. “You just gotta be faster.” You tease before shutting the door in his face.

The low bulb light casts a hazy orange glow to everything, you start the shower and find it to have weak water pressure. Your clothes make a pile on the floor and soon the air steams up.

Your muscles relax as you wash off, you let out a small groan at your fingers scrubbing your scalp. The sound of the shower curtain being pulled back and Tyler stepping in behind you makes you turn. “I haven’t even been in here that long.”

He shrugs, then moves to hog the water. “I got impatient.”

After being with someone for so long and sharing everything, nothing really fazes you. The crew jokes that you and Tyler could probably morph into one body at this point.

By the time the two of you are mostly rinsed off, he’s getting handsy. His fingers trace over your handful of tattoos, wet skin sliding across you in a feverish way. You lean your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him. “Ty…”

He looks down you was an innocent smile. “Oh come on, we’ve been traveling with people for too long. We get one night without Boone gagging when I kiss you.” He says, then leans his head down, nuzzling into your neck.

You bite your lip at the feeling, your arm coming up to run your hand through his hair. “Who’s in the room next to us? These walls are thin.”

“I don’t give a shit about that.” He mumbles, hand slipping far past your navel, earning a loud gasp from you.

You lean your weight back against him, nodding feverishly as his fingers do wonders to an aching spot between your legs. “Okay, not having Boone around is really good.” You breathe.

He’s practically holding you up, his other arm is around you, holding you to his chest while he makes you fall apart.

It didn’t matter that the room hasn’t been updated since the 80’s or that the mattress groaned under the weight of the two of you or that Rocky runs and hides, the two of you were savoring this alone time because you didn’t know when the next time would be when you got it.

You’re laughing, making out and switching positions. The feel of his hand running past the valley of your breasts and giving your throat the lightest grip, it makes you feel on fire. The headboard’s getting knocked into the wall, you’re breathlessly whining and he’s loving every reaction you give him. By the time you’re gripping his shoulders so tight and his name is sounding broken as it cuts from your throat, he’s barely holding himself up.

The air conditioning makes an odd hum sound as you lay against him, skin on skin. You never understood how people could get bored of sex after being with someone for a while, having sex with Tyler Owens was hotter than west Texas in the Summer.

Well, the first time was a little awkward. Most people don’t establish they love each other before they sleep with each other, but you guys did. When you sat in his lap, lips slotted against his, you had to fight to push the idea out of your mind that you were grinding against your best friend. Everything was slow and every touch was unsure, after it ended you were scared that the relationship dynamic would never work if this was how sex was together.

You laugh now, thinking about it.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, fingers tracing the long horn skull that is tramp stamped on you.

“I’m just remembering the first time we had sex.” You shake with amusement. He groans. “You have to stop bringing that up.”

Pushing up from his chest, the blanket falls off of you. He watches in amazement as you swing your leg over his waist, your hands planted on his chest. “I think it’s cute, we were just babies.”

“Yeah, sometimes I miss the days where I didn’t know how insane you were.”

You glare, immediately going to move off of him before his grip yanks you back to your spot.

“I’m kidding, I always knew you were crazy.” He says.

“You love it.” You lean over him, and his hand comes to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “You know I do, darlin’.”

Falling asleep was easy, you could fall asleep anywhere, but in a bed with Tyler holding you to his chest, it had you dreaming in seconds. You wake before he does, slowly sliding away to get dressed. You stand at the balcony outside, a cup of coffee in your hand as you watch the sunrise. After a few moments of peace, the door behind you opens and out comes your lover boy.

“No rain dance this morning?” He asks, kissing the top of your head.

“There’s plenty of rain in Oklahoma, they don’t need me to shake my ass in the parking lot for it to come.” You state, leaning down to pick up Rocky who trailed out after Tyler.

The two- well, three of you, look out at the horizon line, the air is already getting hot.

“You ready?” He asks you, and you turn to kiss his jaw. “I’m always ready.”

[thatdammchickennugget]

Just My Type

pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader

tags - hockey player and figure skater au

warnings - none I think

wordcount - 1.1k

a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested

The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.

Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.

Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.

After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.

Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.

“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”

“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.

Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?

You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.

Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.

“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.

“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.

You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.

“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”

Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.

“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.

“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.

Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”

“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.

“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”

“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”

The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.

“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.

He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.

Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.

By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.

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[beefrobeefcal]

Like a Cigar feat. Max Phillips x menstruating!f!reader

Summary: You have cramps and Max has a holistic way that might help.

Pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,879

Content Warnings: dubcon (bc vampires and their hypnosis), reader is a menstruating person, period sex, poor managerial skills, if he were her boss there would be hr concerns, p in the v sex, neck biting, blood

Author's Notes: This came about from a discussion about periods on discord and this is dedicated to @noxturnalpascal and @strang3lov3's cat, Gizmo.

Thank you to @strang3lov3 and @noxturnalpascal for cultivating this with me, and to @bitchesuntitled and @jennaispunk for their eyes and love.

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“Dammit.”, you swore under your breath as you dug around in the cabinet under the bathroom sink.

Only one regular tampon and one panty liner were not enough to get you through the night. The iron-rich flood that was about to destroy your underwear had arrived and you were not prepared.

Moving out of your ex’s apartment and having to start again in a city you didn’t know was hard enough, but realizing at 2 am that you had no period products when all the signs and your health app had warned you this was coming nearly had you on the verge of tears.To top it off, you had nothing to dull the twisting aches of pain but an old sock and maybe some rice to MacGyver a heating pad. 

You hastily shoved in your final tampon, slapped the panty liner in your underwear, put on some old sweatpants, grabbed your keys and headed out to your car.

+++++

The speakers in the 24-hr Walgreens were blown out, causing John Dever’s Suzanne’s Song to sound like two sick frogs singing along to a car occasionally backfiring. 

The cramps had really hit you hard en route, and you shuffled slowly to the Feminine Hygiene aisle. Turning the corner down that aisle, you saw a man. An extraordinarily well-dressed man at 2:16 am in a Walgreens. 

You’d assumed that you would have seen a staff member or maybe another uterus-haver being in the aisle, but not this. The man turned from examining a pack of ULTRA tampons in his large hand and smiled wide, toothy grin and nodded at you. If you weren’t so exhausted and hurting, you would have been creeped out, or at least slightly unnerved, but in your iron-deficient and cramp-fueled haze, you nodded sluggishly and turned to face the wall of catch-it-all and plug-it-up products. 

Your brain ignored the man and focused all your energy on picking the products you needed, bending slightly forward to try and lessen the pain in your abdomen. It wasn’t until you heard the deep inhale beside you that you clued into how close the man was standing to you now. 

“Can I help y-”

“You’re bleeding.”

His tone was low and blunt, and carried the sound of the grin on his clean shaven face. 

“Excuse me?” You turned to him with a wary scowl, feeling the inherent feminine rage start to boil up at his audacity. 

“I said you’re in pain.”, he responded in the same blunt, grin-fueled voice.

You narrowed your eyes at him. It was then you realized just how well dressed he was; a light gray three-piece suit with a butter-yellow dress shirt underneath the vest. The gold cufflinks and rings styled him expertly and his hair was perfectly coiffed in a short, neat cut. He was extremely overdressed for the occasion of meeting you amongst the pads and tampons at this time of night.

“Who the fuck are y-”

“A period expert.”, he said while flashing a perfect smile at you.

You felt like you were about to be sold a used car with sawdust in the gas tank.

“A period expert?”

“Well, more of an expert in blood, but periods fall under the umbrella. And guessing by your being here at this hour, and you-”, he raised his brow and looked you over, his eyes darkened as he subtly flicked his tongue and wetted his bottom lip. “You look to be in the throes of Mother Nature’s cruelty.”

You took the lord’s name in vain under your breath and turned back to the neon coloured boxes of overpriced and taxed tampons, and clenched your jaw. You were not in the mood.

“I can help.”

“I’m sure you think that.”, you grunted through your clenched teeth. 

You heard him hum a slight laugh; whether it was authentic or not, you couldn’t tell. What you could tell was that he was getting closer. As you squatted down, trying to alleviate your cramps and scope out the bottom shelf, his shoes stepped into your peripherals. 

You stood up with an irritated sigh, and as you were about to turn to face him, to tell him to back the fuck off, you stopped. Or you were stopped. Stopped by some unseen force, making it harder to access your freewill. 

“I can help.”

The smooth, deliberate tone was behind you and close enough that each syllable came with a breath that moved the hair at the base of your head, causing your body to erupt in a wave of goosebumps. Any and all irritation faded, and your senses dulled slightly. A warm, euphoric haze curled itself around you and all you heard was his words I can help bounce softly around your skull. From the corner of your eye, you vaguely noticed his hand moving in a slow, twirling motion. 

His hands softly held your arms, just below your shoulders, softly squeezing and rubbing them soothingly, and he leaned in, taking in a deep breath. 

“God dammit, you smell good. You smell like you’re in desperate need of some help and I am just the guy for you, sweetheart.”

“What are you - a… a gynecologist?” Your words were slightly drawn out, and to you, they sounded like they were spoken into an echo chamber.

“No. Not at all. Not a medical professional, but you could say I take a holistic interest in all things blood. And you’re full of it.” His voice sounded like it was eons away, echoing through space and time towards you, but based on his touch and the breath on your neck, you knew he was close. But the fog you were in made it easy enough for you not to care. 

“My name is Max. Max Phillips, and I am going to help you, sweetheart.”

You sluggishly opened your mouth to say your name but he tsk’d you. “No… I don’t care about your name. I care about the current state you’re in.”

Max’s hand moved around your front to your lower abdomen and he pushed down with his palm. You let out a long, slow breath mixed with a groan, and he huffed a low chuckle into your ear. 

“I know, sweetheart.” The mock pout on his face came though in his voice. “ It hurts, but I’m gonna fix this for you.”

His voice, his words, and his weird twirly hand movements had you sink further into the fog and it felt like a fever dream. Max seemed to move faster than your eyes could process it, flitting to the front and returning with a shopping cart, then loaded it up with what seemed like one of every kind, size, colour, and brand of period products - a smile on his face the whole time. You watched as Max walked behind the pharmacy counter with no objection from the staff, almost like they couldn’t see him, and he loaded up a white, prescription paper bag with several large scoops of acetaminophen and ibuprofen tablets. He then led you to the till where he paid for a ridiculously huge variety of pads and tampons, and some cheap chocolate from the impulse area by the registers.You carried a paper bag full of the painkillers as Max ushered you out into the parking lot, towards the backseat of his vehicle. But the whole thing felt like you were watching it unfold from above your own body and not actually participating. 

Once you were seated in the back Max got in on the other side and flashed you another megawatt smile. 

“Okay.”, he said with a gusto and slapped his hands together. “Let’s get started.”  

He pulled the sack of pills out of your hand and tossed them into the front seat, along with the bags of items. In one swift motion, he grabbed your calf, turned and pushed you down, and your neck and head were at an awkward angle, butted up against the door handle and window

The haze that had enveloped you was lifting and the reality of the situation you were in was drawing on you. 

“What the fu-”

“You’re fine.” Max’s tone was as sharp as the pad of his finger pressed into the crotch of your sweatpants. 

“You’re fine, sweetheart. I’m just helping.” His dismissive and snide tone began to push you back into that fog, but this time, you tried to fight it. 

You tried to sit up, but his deep brown eyes seemed to darken into the shadows the streetlights threw over him. You stilled, your limbs feeling heavier as you stared into his eyes, dulling your senses so you could only focus on him. A car honked loudly at the intersection in front of the Walgreens’ parking lot, but to you, the sound of it was muted and dulled, and far away. You laid back again, neck and head squished up against the door, as he maintained eye contact.

“That’s a good girl. No need to fight it. I’m gonna make it all better.”

And you trusted him to do it. For some unknown, god-forsaken reason you trusted him. 

In one quick movement, your sweatpants and underwear were down to your ankles. He hummed and his tongue jutted out the corner of his mouth as he struggled to get the second pantleg over your Birkenstocks. 

“There we go.” Max tossed your clothing into the front seat and looked down at your core. 

He reached forward and gave the now-rust coloured tampon cord a tug, seemingly trying to gauge how easily it could be removed.

When you made a small noise expressing your concern, his eyes darted up to yours. “Knock it off. I’m helping you, remember?”

His hand moved up your thigh, roughly digging his fingers into your skin to keep you still, and his other moved back down between your legs then tugged the tampon out of you. He smiled as he held it up, noting how weighed down it was already with your blood and he placed it on the centre console. His finger then came in contact with your copper-toned nub. Rubbing small circles, he looked up at you and leaned in slightly, his non-occupied hand moving in a slow circular motion in the air.

“Fuck…”, you managed to breathe out. Your own voice once again sounded foreign and far away.

He smiled at you with a tooth-filled, smug smile, and you watched as fangs appeared, lengthening his canines, and your immediate slight panic was tampered down by a well duh! feeling. Between the fog and his cool finger pad drawing tight, soft circles on your clit, you let the ebb and flow of the situation take over.

“Good. You got it. Just helping you out, sweetheart.”

Max pushed his middle finger into your wet, hot heat, eliciting a gasping soft moan. 

He smiled and wiggled the tip of his finger inside you. “You’re too easy, Bloody Mary.”

Before you could answer, he pulled his finger out, pushed you further up against the door and crowded himself up against you; the angle your neck was at should have hurt, but whatever spell he had you under had you not caring about your current circumstances, and it also seemed to be dulling your pain. He pressed his body down on yours, his nose buried into your neck, and inhaled again. He groaned, his eyes rolling up into his head, then took one of your ear lobes into his mouth, gently sucking it.

You let out a sigh that made your body feel like a deflated mylar balloon, just barely floating along. But as Max became more engrossed in your scent, specifically your out-in-the-open penny-flavoured pussy, his control over you began to slip. The feeling of him sucking and licking and nipping at your ear and neck started to lose its muted sensation, and the haze that had wrapped itself around your mind was lifting. The clarity you suddenly felt as more than one of his fingers pushed into your hole made you suck in a staggered breath. He lazily pumped his fingers in time with the licks and sloppy open mouth kisses he lavished your ear and neck with. 

Despite that clarity, you couldn’t stop him. He sounded so… euphoric. His moans and his grunts and his groans, hums and small huffs of delight were hypnotic all on their own. That and you had never had someone seem so engrossed in having you lay starfish and make you cum. At least, your ex wasn’t like that - he’d haphazardly finger you with untrimmed nails and rub your clit raw, spend three minutes panting and whining in your ear as his dick missed your hole like a fly not being able to find a window and then crowed like a rooster when he came… why did I stay with him? you thought.

Max seemed to sense your mind wandering to past events and he lifted himself, hovering over your cramped up torso against the car door. His furrowed brow seemed exaggerated by the shadows being draped over him, and the dim light of the streetlight outside casted eye shines on his black orbs. His fingers continued to piston in and out of you harshly. The discomfort of his rhythm paled in comparison to the outright pain of the cramps that had your uterus in a vice. 

“Turn off your fucking brain or I’ll do it for you.”

You swallowed and nodded as best as you could with your chin crunched down against your chest, and he lowered himself back down, resuming his mouth’s work on your neck, and you felt a slight sting. You let out a soft moan, and in response he licked where his teeth had grazed you then hummed and  grunted as he kissed and sucked the spot, the vibrations adding to the stimulation on your neck. As soon as you started to let yourself get lost in euphoria, you could feel your orgasm building. 

“I can feel it”, he hummed, bringing his face to yours. “Can feel her quivering and shaking…”

You let out a panting mewl as his breath huffed over your face in a laugh. You clenched on his fingers and wanted to grab him to ground your body, but you couldn’t. It was like you had no control over anything but your breathing and everything was tingling with pins and needles, completely useless to you. 

“Good… finally. Jesus, took your fucking time.”, Max said, rolling his eyes. He pulled out his fingers and shoved his fingers into his mouth, humming satisfied, and closed his eyes in relishment.

It was so abrupt. He took away his hand before you had fully come down and you looked up at him confused as he sucked on his fingers. His brows raised and his other hand came up, making a circular motion, telling you to get a move on with… something?

“Wha–”

“My fucking pants! These are a cashmere-wool blend and I saw the Wal-Mart brand, multipack underwear you were wearing, Bloody Mary - I know you can’t afford my dry cleaner!”

You stared up at him like he had three heads, not putting the pieces together.

He leaned forward and his voice dropped into a low, menacing tone. “I am not going to fuck you with my pants on, Bloody Mary. My hand is a fucking mess because of you so make with the no pants.”

“Shit…”, you muttered as you sat up, shaky hands pulling open the dark, expensive looking belt. “Do you want to have anything else taken off? Like your shirt or vest?”

He rolls his eyes and shrugs off his overcoat, then his suit jacket, then muttered, “You deal with the fucking buttons.” He opened his hands to indicate he was talking about his vest, impatiently raising his eyebrows to tell you he was waiting.

With your shaky fingers on his buttons, you clumsily opened one at a time. The bliss from your previous orgasm had subsided and the cramps in your abdomen came roaring back along with a wave of hot nausea. Max groaned in irritation and impatience, watching your face contort. His hand snaked around to the back of your head and gripped your hair.

Yanking down, he forced your face up to look at his. The shadows cast across this face seemed deeper, highlighting every crease and fold in his skin as he scowled at you. “Focus. I’m doing you a favour, sweetheart.”

You felt the warm, liquidy feeling begin to ebb and flow over your mind again as you stared into his eyes and your hands seemed to be under his control, deftly unbuttoning his vest and dress shirt. He still held you by the back of your head, hair scruffed like you were a feral cat and not a docile, hypnotized, bleeding human.

Once Max had his smooth abdomen on display, your hands moved back down to his pants, unbuttoning them then pulling the zipper down, getting a peak at the pair of dark blue - with little red umbrellas - European style briefs underneath. Under his control, you tugged them down, showcasing the impressive outline of his semi-hard cock. You raised a brow as you gazed down from the awkward angle from which he held your head and made a complimentary ‘huh’. Even if the circumstances were different, you’d have a hard time kicking him out for eating crackers in bed. 

“Take a fucking picture next time, Mary.”

Your eyes jumped up to him and he scowled at you impatiently. 

“My dick could be out, rammed into your bloody slash, kicking your cramp’s ass, but you’re being pretty fucking ineffective with your and my time.”, Max snarled. “So knock off the ogling and get back to work!”

The tone at which he barked reminded you of the manager you had when you were 15 with your first summer job at McDonald’s. He had chastised you for cooking the fries too long and berated you in front of the entire crew on your shift, and left you in tears, sobbing on the dirty staff bathroom floor. This time though, the beratement made your hole twitch and ooze, and heat bloomed in your pelvis. 

On your own volition, you pulled down his underwear to where his pants had landed mid-thigh and tugged both the rest of the way to his knees. Even though you were working as quickly as you could given the cramped conditions and the weird hold he had on the back of your head, Max still seemed to think you were moving too slowly and he shoved you back against the door and grabbed your leg at the knee, yanking your crimson core towards him. 

“Finally.”, he grunted as he lined himself up and sunk into you. He wasn’t the biggest you’d had but he was thick and it felt amazing juxtaposed to the cramps. He let out a deep, low groan as his dick disappeared into you, feeling the hot, slick grip you had on him once he was fully seated in you. 

“Please… fuck-move…”, you moaned, you eyes closed and brows pinched.

“Thank fuck you have manners.”, Max muttered as he started to slowly pull out and then push back in.

He kept the slower pace and at first you thought it was for your benefit, until you opened your eyes a crack then jumped - Max was staring at you intensely, mouth pulled into a tight frown. He looked like he was concentrating hard on something. He noticed you looking at him and he narrowed his eyes.

“Pacing yourself is important.”, he grunted out through clenched teeth. “It’s a good strategy in 

not overwhelming yourself… and- fuck…” He stopped and worked to regain his composure. “And it’s effective to do something at a steady speed so you don-don’t get tired.”

Beyond the steady, rhythmic pace at which he repeatedly impaled you, his words made you want to recoil from him. He sounded as if Patrick Bateman wrote a ‘how to’ guide for managerial sex. It was clear he was enjoying this far more than he wanted to let on and his ‘pace’ was him trying not to blow his load quickly…

Which lead your thoughts down a tangent: do vampires have loads to blow? Is it like you imagined Edward Cullen’s cum being glitter glue-esque when you were 18? Was it like that neon green slime you saw at the Dollar Store? Was it just like regular cum but maybe Count Chocula flavoured?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the pinch you felt on the inside of your thigh and you caught Max glaring to you while he kept pace, 

“Am I boring you?”, he spat out venomously. “I’m doing this for your fucking benefit, you know…”

You started to get lost in his eyes again, missing out on his face contorting as his features became gargoyle-esque. You only noticed when he began to quicken his thrust, becoming harsher and he leaned down almost nose to nose. The menacingly intimate proximity made your cunt tighten and flutter, bringing you right to the edge of another orgasm.

Before you could react, his face moved fast to your neck and he bit down. That was all you needed to set off the stick of dynamite in your pussy and you came hard, flooding any crevice or space that existed between you with your crimson tide. 

Max released his bite and pulled back, mouth red, wet and dripping.  “I bet you’re one of those leftists who just fucking loves unions.”, Max growled lowly, keeping up his brutal pace as he fucked you through your orgasm.

You have no idea why, but you nodded in response, panting a breathy, pained “Yes!” as you shook and cried out. His eyes rolled back and let out a groan turned high-pitched whine and stilled as he arched his hips into you, unloading whatever mystery goo vampires jizz. 

Whatever vulnerability you thought might come post-vampiric sex never came, and before you could crawl out of the haze your mind was in, Max was wiping his crotch with your discarded leggings then fixing his pants and dress shirt. Then he was shimming your panty liner-saddled underwear and now-sticky leggings back on you. He opened the car door behind him, got out and walked around the vehicle. The door you were butted up against opened, and you fell back against him, and Max’s arms hooked under your shoulders and pulled you out, unceremoniously dropping you on your ass. He turned back to the car, pulling out the bags of pads and tampons he'd gotten and the paper bag of painkillers and threw them at you.

“There. All fucking better.”

Stunned, you watched him get into the driver’s seat and made the engine roar to life. He hit the gas and drove forward to the end of the lot then turned around. As he passed you to get to the exit, you watched as he picked up your bloody tampon and put it in his mouth like a cigar.

****

A month later, you woke up to the telltale twinge that heralded your period and as you rummaged under the sink through the ridiculous amounts of period products, you wondered if you should make a trip to Walgreens. 

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[badkitty3000]

Five's Audition Tape

So, here's another one-shot I wrote a little while ago that I originally never intended on posting. But as I try and work on some new things, I figured I'd put this out there. It's another sweet, funny, sexy glimpse into the life of Five and his wife Vivian from my original series Halo. If you enjoy this one, you might like my full one-shot series of my two favorite horny lovebirds.

Summary: Vivian catches Five singing in the shower and secretly records the evidence. When she's caught, she tries to hide from him, which ends in some major rearranging of their kitchen pantry. What she doesn't know, though, is that their little closet bang is not the private moment they intended.

Five x Female OC, 4,179 words, one-shot

Warnings: Smut, Closet sex

Five thought it was a safe space. He thought he was alone. Alone and free to sing loudly and unabashedly in the shower without fear of judgment. He was very, very wrong. Because if there was one thing his wife lived for, it was catching him doing something stupid and using it for her own, personal gain.

No one would ever have thought in a million years that Number Five Hargreeves not only knows the lyrics to Shaggy’s 2000 hit Angel, but also secretly loves it and sings it at the top of his lungs when no one else is around. No one would have thought he’d do the accent when he sang it, either. But yet, there he was, scrubbing his hair behind the safety of the shower door, and singing lines like:

 Looking back Shorty always a mention

Said me not giving her much attention

She was there through my incarceration

I wanna show the nation my appreciation

Unfortunately for Five, he was not alone in the house like he thought he was. Vivian just happened to get home from work early and had come upstairs to change when she heard the speaker in the bathroom blasting out the Reggae-heavy song, accompanied by her husband’s very bad Jamaican accent.

She froze in place outside of the bathroom door, one hand on the doorknob and the other over her mouth to suppress her glee. She didn’t even know what to do first, she was so excited. Should she barge in and surprise him, scaring him and embarrassing him at the same time? Should she keep it to herself as ammo for the next time he annoys her? Or should she sneak in, record an audio clip on her phone, and send it out to his entire family? The choice was obvious.

With her phone in hand, Viv slowly and as quietly as possible turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. The music was playing loud enough that he shouldn’t have been able to hear her enter, and he couldn’t see through the frosted glass of the shower door. Still, she crept in on tiptoes, her phone already recording his secret bathroom concert. As she bit her lip to stifle the laughter that threatened to peal out of her at any second, Five continued to sing about his darling angel being closer to him than his peeps.

After she had recorded several seconds of it, she turned around to sneak back out the door. As she turned, though, her sleeve caught on a bottle of lotion next to the sink, tipping it over with a loud thump. Viv froze in place and Five immediately stopped singing. There was a brief pause of silence, and then the shower door flew open with a bang, revealing Five standing there with a deep frown of confusion on his face. Their eyes locked for a second before he looked down to the phone in her hand and then back up at her face. Viv broke into a grin. Then she made a run for it.

Normally, this would be a futile effort, since no matter how fast or far she tried to get away from Five, he always popped up in a blue flash, cutting her off from her escape with a cocky smile. But she had caught him off guard this time, and when she sprinted out of the bathroom, she slammed the door behind her so that he didn’t get a good look where she went running off to. By the time Five got his wits about him and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist, she was long gone. Hidden somewhere in the house.

As Five began blinking randomly around the house, disappearing and reappearing in different rooms and closets, he smiled to himself. He was well trained in the art of tracking and hunting another human, but this was a very different game of cat and mouse they were playing. And he was most definitely going to be preying on this particular little mouse when he eventually caught up with her. Five stopped when he blinked into the living room. He pushed a hand through his wet hair and ran his tongue over his teeth with a smile.

“You know I’m going to find you, Vivie,” he called out. “You are a terrible hider and you can’t walk more than two feet without stepping on something or knocking something over.” He stopped and listened, but the house remained silent. “Brat,” he muttered to himself with a laugh.

He continued his blink-and-seek game, teleporting everywhere he could think of that she may have gone. He even blinked up to the attic, which he knew she couldn’t have easily gotten to, and almost bashed his head on the low rafters. She actually had him stumped for a minute, until he appeared in the kitchen and heard a noise. It was quiet, but he’d definitely noticed it. It was a crunching sound, like the sound of gravel beneath a shoe. Five smirked as he honed in on the location of the noise. In one perfectly calculated blink, he rematerialized inside the food pantry closet.

“Gotcha,” he declared just as Viv shrieked and took a step back, her back hitting the shelf behind her and knocking over another packet of crackers that had given her away in the first place. Five was right, she was a bad hider.

Five held her by her upper arms, a devious grin spreading across his face in the dim light, and squeezed his grip tighter. Viv was breathing hard from running and from being startled, but she laughed breathily.

“Hi, honey,” she said sweetly. “How was your shower?”

“It was very nice until I was rudely interrupted. Now tell me, my love, what were you doing with your phone?” Five glanced over at the shelf where Viv had set the phone, the screen still lit up with the family group chat ready to go. His green eyes flitted back to her face as she tried not to laugh again. “Oh, you think this is funny?”

“Do I think walking in on my elderly-but-not-really, ex-assassin, hard-ass, time-traveling husband singing a 2000’s Reggae/rap song in a fake Jamaican accent is funny and I need his entire family to hear it?” She beamed up at him with fluttering eyelashes. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Five sighed loudly, tilting his head back before meeting her eyes again with a pitying look. “You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you, angel?”

Viv’s nervous swallow was audible in the small space they occupied. “You’re going to blink us both out of this closet and you’ll forget all about it?”

Five closed in on her, his half-naked body still damp with beads of water from the shower, his hair falling in pieces onto his forehead. He leaned in until his mouth was next to her ear, rubbing his cheek against hers.

“Wrong,” he whispered darkly.

He pressed up against her, pushing her harder against the shelves, the towel around his waist doing nothing to disguise his rapidly hardening erection. He moved his hands down to her wrists and held them tightly as he breathed hard against her neck. Viv could feel his damp hair tickling her face; his chest flush with hers.

“I do love it when you misbehave like this. It really gets me going.”

“Five,” Viv weakly protested, letting out a small laugh. “We’re in the kitchen pantry and our son is going to be home very soon. I’m not going to…”

She was cut off by Five’s thigh that he shoved between her legs, as well as the sharp nip he gave her neck as his hands tightened on her wrists.

“You’ll do what I tell you to do,” he hissed. “And right now I’m telling you to turn around and get that skirt up.”

It was dark in the closet, but enough light was coming in from around the door to illuminate Viv’s face so that Five could see the flicker of a smile cross her lips and that look in her eye that meant she liked what she heard. After years of marriage, he could read her like a book. And even if he couldn’t, the rapid change to her breathing would be a big hint.

She looked him in the eyes and whispered. “Let go of my wrists, then.”

Five let his grip on her go and Viv slowly turned around, just like he told her to; her ass brushing against him in the process because of the close quarters. She reached down and hiked up the hem of her pencil skirt, pulling it all the way up to her waist before grabbing onto the wire shelves containing their household dry goods with two hands. She pushed back against him as he let out a dark chuckle.

“Sometimes I think you do things just so you can be punished.”

With a firm tug on her hips, Five pulled her back, the large tent of his towel pressing harder against her backside. Viv’s hands tightened onto the shelves as she felt the towel drop to the floor and Five’s fully erect cock sprang to attention before rubbing between her ass cheeks and the thin material of her panties. His mouth was on her neck, hard and rough, as he started to mark the space next to her shoulder with his teeth. He let out a groaning sigh as he moved to another spot to do the same thing.

“What do you think, bad girl…” he mused quietly as his lips traveled to a new, unmarred area of her neck. “Are you wet enough for me yet?”

Five’s hand found its way around to her front, his long fingers creeping into the side of her panties and sliding up through her silken folds. He paused to bite down on the other side of her neck as a loud gasp caught in her throat. He continued his exploration, spreading her slick over her entire swollen heat, ending at her clit and expertly massaging it. Viv rocked her hips back and forth, wanting more pressure from his hand in front and his cock from behind.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Five smirked as she whimpered sweetly for him.

He considered his options of pushing her underwear to the side or removing them completely. He liked the idea of sliding inside of her while she was still fully clothed. But he also wanted as much access as he could get, so he removed his hand and shoved them down her hips so that they dropped to the ground around her feet. Viv automatically stepped out of them, her heels tapping on the floor as she readjusted and spread her legs apart.

Five wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in tightly while using his other hand to position himself against her entrance, pushing inside of her with one thrust. The low growl he let out mixed with her moans as he bent her over as far as possible in the small space.

“That’s…oh yeah…that’s good,” Viv whined, hanging her head down and closing her eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling, but I need to fuck you hard,” Five warned, his voice tight with restraint.

Viv nodded eagerly. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

He didn’t say anything else, just started pounding into her. Viv clutched onto the shelves tighter, Five’s hands wrapping around hers and squeezing them hard to steady himself as he nailed his wife from behind. The shelves began to shake and squeak loudly with the activity, the items on top of them shifting and falling over.

“Fi-ive…f-uu-ck…”

“Too much?” Five rasped between gritted teeth, continuing to drive his dick deeper and harder inside.

“Nooo…” Viv moaned. “No…keep going…more…”

“That’s my girl.”

Five’s grip tightened even more as he concentrated on giving her the fuck of her life. The added intensity shook the shelving unit harder; boxes of pasta and cereal, containers of rice, cookies, and crackers falling over and spilling onto the ground. Viv narrowly missed getting hit by a can of soup that rolled off the top shelf and loose Froot Loops were being crushed into brightly colored powder beneath Five’s bare feet.

“I. Love. You. So. Goddamn. Much.” Five was grunting with each thrust, his hips slapping against her ass while she made little whimpering noises, biting at her lips. “Even when you’re an evil little brat.”

Five…Five…I need…” she was gasping, trying to suck in air and talk at the same time.

“What, baby…tell me.”

“I need my hand,” Viv pleaded, trying to free her hand from under his.

Five let go of his right hand so she could release her own before grabbing back on again for leverage. Viv’s hand dropped down between her legs to finger herself while she was being railed as hard as possible.

“Vivie…” Five grated out, his voice hoarse. “I can’t keep…fuck, you feel so good!”

With Five’s amazing cock slamming viciously inside her and aided by her own fingers, Viv’s orgasm rippled through her body, her muscles contracting as she tried to hold back the loud screams that threatened to erupt out of her.

“Fuck!” Five yelled, clearly not concerned with his volume level, despite the fact that they may not have been alone in the house, or in a private area.

His own climax seemed to last forever as he pressed hard against her, pushing her against the shelves until her body was being crushed. The adrenaline from the intense finish masked the pain Viv normally would have felt if her chest was being smashed into the blunt edge of a pantry shelf. With their bodies starting to relax and their breathing still loud and gasping, Viv brought her arm up and rested her head on her forearm as she closed her eyes and sighed happily.

Five held her to him for a little longer, before slipping out of her and kissing the back of her neck. After a few more heaving breaths, Five moved aside so that Viv could straighten up and pull her skirt down.

“Now hand over the evidence,” Five panted, holding his hand out, palm up.

Viv had almost forgotten what landed them in the closet in the first place, and she glanced around. She saw the glowing light of her phone that had fallen onto the floor, along with all the food items. With a short laugh, she dove for it before Five could get at it.

“No chance in hell,” she smirked.

“Vivie…I swear to god if you send that to my—”

At that moment, from one of the upper shelves, an opened bag of flour tipped on its side and came crashing down, creating a giant plume of white dust that settled over everything and everyone in the tiny closet. They both cried out in horror.

As they stood there, covered head to toe in flour, with pulverized food debris and questionable other things on the floor, they blinked at one another in stunned silence. Viv was the first to start, beginning with a quiet snort that quickly devolved into her doubling over with laughter, then coughing from inhaling flour dust. As she tried to both laugh and cough at the same time, Five started in with a low chuckle while shaking his head like a dog to free the thick layer of white powder from his dark hair.

Just then, they both heard a noise from outside the pantry door. It was the sound of footsteps getting closer, followed by the voice of their son singing along quietly to some song that was playing on the noise-canceling headphones he seemed to wear at all hours of the day and night. As it turned out, this was a good thing, because neither one of them were entirely sure how loud they had been or how long he had been home. And even if they had kept their own noises to a minimum, the sound of crashing dry goods all around them should have been loud enough.

Viv’s eyes widened, knowing their teenage son was bound to be headed to the closet that housed all of the snacks. She looked up at Five, who read her mind and quickly grabbed her arm before blinking them out of there and into their bathroom upstairs.

As James headed in the direction of the sugary treats he was craving, he noticed the unmistakable flash of blue light coming from behind the closed door of the pantry. There were only two people in the house that could have made that particular color of light and he was one of them. He frowned before continuing closer. He took the headphones off and left them hanging around his neck.

“Dad?” he called, confused as to why in the hell his father would be inside a closed kitchen pantry. “What are you…”

James opened the door and stared inside. He wasn’t sure how a tornado could have ripped through one tiny closet while sparing the rest of the home, but that’s what it looked like. A dense cloud of flour still hung in the air and he waved his hand in front of his face and coughed. It was empty of any people, but it was certainly filled with a giant mess.

Boxes, cans, and plastic containers that once stored various food items were knocked over and either lying on their sides or upside down. Dried pasta and beans were mixed with a million grains of rice scattered into every crack and crevice of the floor. When he looked down and saw the remains of his favorite cereal which was now nothing but a bright pink and blue powder, he groaned sadly.

“No! Not my Froot Loops!”

Then he realized what else he was looking at. There, on the floor in a heap, and covered in a thick layer of white flour, was a wet bathroom towel and a pair of women’s underwear. James’ face fell and he couldn’t decide whether to scream or vomit. He clenched his teeth together and balled up his fists, unintentionally mimicking his dad.

“Seriously? In the food?” he grumbled out loud to himself. Then he threw his head back and yelled in the general direction of the upper floor, where he now knew his parents had escaped to. “You guys owe me a box of Froot Loops! And stop being so gross! People eat in here!”

There was no answer, but he sighed angrily and stuck his headphones back on, blinking himself one of the last bags of chips that were still intact before stalking back to his bedroom.

“And they wonder why I don’t want my friends to come over. Maybe because my parents are the two most disgusting people on the planet,” he muttered to himself while shoving a handful of Doritos into his mouth. “This family is so fucking embarrassing.”

Five had managed to blink himself and Vivian into their bathroom upstairs, which was now also covered in flour. Still stifling their laughs, they rinsed off in the shower, trying their best not to make a paste out of the mixture of water and flour in their hair. After cleaning up and toweling off, Viv was squeezing out the water from her hair when Five remembered something.

“Hey, where’s your phone? You still need to delete that shit off there.”

Viv eyed her phone on the bathroom counter and quickly grabbed it, clutching it to her chest. “No way, I’m not deleting that. That’s pure gold!”

“Vivian…” Five started in a threatening manner.

She smiled. “I promise I won’t do anything with it unless you piss me off or I need blackmail for something. Besides, it’s adorable.”

Five huffed. “Shut up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. You wouldn’t want to make me mad now, would you? There’s no telling what I might do…” She playfully held up her phone, pretending she was going to send something to the family group chat that had already been opened before their closet fucking had started.

Five frowned. “Why is the text thread blowing up?”

Viv turned the screen toward her and saw that new messages were flying in, one after another, all from Five’s siblings.

Diego: Holy shit, I almost crashed the fucking car

Luther: What the hell? 🤯

Lila: Oh god, I just threw up in my mouth

Luther: This was so much worse than walking in on you

Diego: Seriously, what is wrong with you two?

Viktor: I need to wash my ears out. With bleach

Klaus: Hey, what are we talking about?

Luther: I cannot express to you how much I never want to hear that again

Lila: Vivian, I have lost all respect for you

Klaus: Seriously, what’s going on? I accidentally left my phone on the bus for 5 hours and I just got it back. Eww, it’s sticky

Viktor: Please lose my number

Sloane: Really…that was pretty bad you guys

Diego: You are no longer invited to family game night

Lila: I hate you both

Klaus: Oh hey, there’s an audio message on here!

Luther: There is a child living in your home. Did you think about that? No, you only think of yourselves

Sloane: I’m sure he wasn’t home

Lila: I bet he was. Poor thing. I’m calling social services

Viktor: She’s just kidding, guys, no one is calling social services. But still…gross

Diego: The worst part is that I had just picked up some Thai food. Can’t eat now. Thanks a lot

Klaus: 🤣🤣🤣💀💀💀

Klaus: Didn’t think I could die but I just did

Klaus: I’m keeping this for future use. Next time send a video, I need a visual for maximal effect 🍆✊💦

Luther: Klaus, you’re disgusting!

Diego: Don’t yell at him, he doesn’t know any better. The other two know that it’s wrong. So, so wrong

Lila: Did there have to be dialogue? Can’t you shut up for the two seconds it takes you to blow your load Five? I can’t unhear that

Viktor: This is now the top most traumatizing thing I’ve had happen in my life. Which says a lot

Luther: You two have some serious issues, you know that?

Klaus: Has anyone seen my red sparkly belt? I need it for tonight

Diego: Klaus, how can you ask that now? And no, no one has seen your stupid belt

Klaus: Oh, are we still talking about the Fivey Fuck Fest? I thought we moved on

Lila: I want out of this family

Sloane: If I have to be here, so do you

Luther: I think we need to establish some rules for this group chat

Diego: Who made you ruler of the group chat? But yeah, we do

Luther: Rule #1: NO SEX IN ANY MEDIA FORMAT ON THE FAMILY TEXT THREAD

Luther: Everyone in agreement?

Diego: 🙋‍♂️

Lila: 🙋‍♀️

Viktor: 🙋‍♂️

Sloane: 🙋‍♀️

Klaus: 👎

Luther: Great, majority rules

Five stared at the phone, then back at Vivian, then back at the phone, his eyebrows crunched together.

“Did you…did we…”

Viv cringed. “I think so, yeah.”

Five pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes to gather himself. “Let me get this straight. You just sent an audio message of us doing it, loudly, to my entire family?”

“It would appear so, yes.”

“Vivian!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air.

Viv pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “It was an accident!”

“An accident that wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t think you were so fucking funny and recorded me singing in the shower!”

The giggles she had been holding back started to bubble out. “I’m sorry. But it’s a little funny, don’t you think?”

“Not really, no.”

“Oh.” Viv snorted back a laugh and then fixed her face in an attempt to look serious again. “At least it was a good performance by you. I mean, it could have been worse.”

Five narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? When is it not a good performance?”

“Oh my god, Five! You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be.” She looked down at her phone and started typing.

“What are you doing now?” Five asked.

“Trying to apologize…hang on…wait, why can’t I…oh those assholes!” she said, looking up at Five in shock.

“What?”

“They removed us from the group chat. What the fuck?”

Five stood there for a minute and then he started laughing. “Now, that actually is funny.”

Viv grinned. “Now I kind of want to do it again. Just to fuck with them.”

Five leaned in to kiss her. “I have no problems doing that again. But let’s keep the next session a little more private, shall we? And maybe with a little less involvement of unsecured baking ingredients.”

[imwetforyourmom]

I like the way you kiss me

summary: what could possibly happen in a bathroom, at a party, between two friends?

warnings: kissing, praising, public (?), swearing, song does not match up with the words whatsoever, dom!chris sub!reader, fem!reader, blow job, fwb, ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!!

IN HONOUR OF ARTEMAS’ NEW SONGG

~

y/ns hands flatten on her dress, rubbing it down in either a nervous or cleaning her skirt manner.

this was a huge party, and who knows who could be here? chris maybe, her friends with benefits. no, he doesnt like parties he wouldnt come.

he mainly didnt like them because everyone was always in peoples personal space and the heavy smell of achohol and weed was always bothering him.

fuck. this wasnt normal, y/n shouldnt know this much about chris, hes simply a hookup.. a friends with benefits. which, theyre still friends, so she guesses its normal.

while thinking deeply about what she should and shouldnt know about chris, she accidentally bumped into a a tall figure. while trying to avoid other sweaty bodies.

“shit! sorry!” she spoke quickly, her body moving off the others just as fast.

her eyes scanned up his body, stopping at his face as her eyes scanning his facial features, quickly recognizing chris.

chris.

chris smirked, looking down at her.

“you look hot, mama” he spoke, his voice seductive. he wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her close to him.

“who you all dressed up for like that, hm?” he mumbled, speaking into the top of her head.

y/n quickly thought of her words, if she spoke truthfully, chris might spare her, and if she lied and said ‘for you’ he would know she wasnt expecting him here and edge her for hours on end, the next time they hooked up.

“me, I- uh, I wasnt expecting to see you here, chris.” she muttered, deciding to talk truthfully and give herself mercy.

“hm. well, now that im here. would you like to dance?” he hummed, his hand traveling off her waist and down her arm, wrapping his hand around hers, walking her with him to the dance floor.

“sure!” y/n answered, its not like she had a choice anyways, chris was already spinning her around and singing along with the music currently blasting through the speakers.

“I like the way you kiss me

I like the way you, uh

I like the way you kiss me”

oh.

this was y/n and chris’ song. the song. the song they always ended up fucking to. no matter where or the situation, she always found herself either ontop or under chris.

chris stared down at her, a knowing look on his face. a smirk slowly creeping onto his lips and his eyes trailed down her body once again, looking at how short her skirt was and how the neckline of her shirt cut off at.

he leant down and looked up, looking at others as his hips swayed with y/ns.

“would you like to fuck now or wait till later?” he whispered into her ear. knowing he was going to be able to fuck her at the end of the night, so in all honesty he didnt mind when she chose.

undoubtedly, y/n had been soaking wet for chris since he’d wrapped his arms around her waist and began talking to her in that deep yet seductive voice.

“now, please.” she mumbled.

* • •

chris’ lips ontop of y/ns, in a rushed but passionate manner. her lips returning the needy kiss, a thousand thoughts running through her mind at once, but all she could focus on was just how wet she was feeling from just chris’ hard on pressing into her thigh.

she moaned into chris’ mouth unexpectedly from his tongue pushing past her lips and teeth, intertwining their tongues in a hot and messy kiss.

chris walked y/n into the door, pressing her back into it, making it all the more romantic whilst his lips engulfed hers. his hands frantic once they connected with her body, moving them all over her, wherever they possibly could.

not tryna be romantic

ill hit it from the back

just so you dont get attached

he bit onto her lip once more before pulling away and pushing her down onto her knees by her shoulders, gently but quickly. y/n made it easier for him and lowered herself, running her hands down him as she moved.

she ran her hands up and down his thighs, before quickly unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans and boxers down altogether.

you bite my lip, just for the taste

you’re on your knees

im on the case

you take the heat, and with such grace

once his length is free and slaps his stomach she immediately wraps her mouth around his cock. wasting no time.

chris groans and places his hand on the top of her head, grabbing a fistful of her hair, he bobs her head up and down with force.

y/n wrapped her hand around what she couldnt fit inside her mouth. moving her hand up and down whilst chris moved her head up and down himself, her lips fully around his length and her cheeks hollowing as she sucked.

“fuck- y/n, you’re doing so good f’me” he praised, his fingertips lightly pressing into her scalp in a gentle motion, rewarding her I’d say.

she licked his underside aswell as sucking and bobbing her head up and down, making the experience all the more pleasureable for chris.

I like the way you kiss me

I can tell you miss me

I can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

tears began collecting at y/ns waterline from the constant abuse to her throat.

with the experience y/n has at giving bjs to chris, she knows all his little weak spots, such as running her tongue tip under his tip.

“f-fuck, y/n- shit” he moaned, small grunts leaving his lips aswell.

“im- im cumming! fuc- fuck” he pushed her head further down, finally stopping when he was deep in her throat. throwing his head back, cumming down her throat.

y/n lightly sucked before she was pulled off him, using the grip chris had on her hair.

chris quickly moved his lips to hers again whilst he grabbed her waist and moved her over to the sink. he pulled away and pressed a quick kiss to her neck before bending her over the sink.

I like the way you kiss me, I can tell you miss me

I can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

not tryna be romantic, I'll hit it from the back

just so you don't get attached

he ran his kisses down her back before stopping and pulling away around her lower back. he pushed her skirt up, giving him availablity to touch and grope her ass, aswell as moving her panties to the side.

and he does just that, his hands slither to her ass and grope it, before slapping it, then massaging the skin.

y/n whines impatiently, “chris, please” she spoke, her voice shaky with need.

“please what? hm? what do you want? use your words ma.” he teasingly spoke, knowing what she wanted.

“I want you, i want your cock. I need you. fuck, please chris.” with that chris pulled her panties to the side and ran his tip through her folds, collecting her arousal.

he slowly pushed in, his cock stretching out her walls as he pushed further and further in.

“fuck!” y/n moaned, the burning sensation throughout her body quickly changing into pleasure once chris began thrusting into her.

can we make a scene

can we make it loud

‘cause im so proud, baby,

im so proud of you

from the loud music playing in just the other room they had no reason to worry about being heard.

besides, the music was already enough but with the screaming and talking was even better. what better place than to fuck in a bathroom at a party? no one can hear the moans.

chris placed his hands on her hips, steadying her before thrusting harshly into her.

his pelvis hitting her ass, causing it to bounce with every thrust.

“god, y/n, you’re so pretty.” he mumbled, his eyes trained on her ass.

his hand traveled up her back and to her neck, he gently moved all her hair to her left shoulder so he could press his hot and wet kisses on her neck.

y/n moaned in response, too fucked out with his hard and such pleasureful thrusts to speak.

every two seconds chris would pull out almost all the way, before slamming back into her.

the sounds of skin slapping, moaning, whimpers and pants being the only sounds in the room.

y/ns hand gripped onto the sink edge whilst her other hand gripped onto the counter, holding so tight her knuckles and fingers were turning white.

“fuckk, chris” she moaned out, squeezing her eyes shut and feeding her bottom lip between her teeth, biting hard.

chris’ fingernails dug so deep into y/ns hips it was sure to leave red crescent moon shapes behind.

chris leaned back over to y/ns back and mumbled sweet nothings into her ear, his mouth slowly traveling from her ear down to her neck and shoulder, leaving wet and opened mouth kisses behind.

he kissed and sucked onto her shoulder and neck, leaving a deep purple color in its mark.

with the new angle he got deeper into y/n somehow, her velvety walls squeezing his cock in pure pleasure.

y/ns mouth hung open, drool dripping out of it every few minutes. her eyes lazily drooped open in pure bliss.

“chris- mhmmm, fuck, ‘m close” she whined, her voice awfully quiet and shaky.

“g- go ahead baby, im right behind you.” he answered, his face hanging in her neck as his collarbone was resting on her shoulder.

with that y/n let go and came all over his cock. with loud moans of his name and incoherent sentences.

with just hearing his name come from y/ns mouth like that was enough for him to cum, in which, he did.

he rested his body ontop of hers, not like he hasnt for the past few couple minutes, but now hes resting his entire body weight onto her.

“fuck, you did so good for me baby.” chris muttered, slowly getting off of y/n, aswell as pulling out of her slowly.

“mhh” y/n answered, still recovering from that heavily intense moment.

chris fixed her skirt and panties, then pulled his boxers and pants up.

he looked at her once more, his eyes scanning over her face, seeing the mascara running down her cheeks, the smeared lipstick and tear stained makeup all over her cheeks, proving that he fucked her just as good as he always has.

“you might wanna fix your makeup up some, sweetheart.” he pressed a kiss to her forehead, before opening and closing the door, leaving the bathroom and returning back to the party.

1883 words.

tags

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @leah-loves-lilies @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @genshin-addict

[mandosaur]

New Rules (Miguel O'Hara / Reader)

Fandom: Across the Spider-Verse

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara / Reader

Word Count: 11,320

Estimated Reading Time: 40:58

Summary:

“No.”

Her voice is firm and she jabs a finger at your chest.

“Do not do that. Hit ignore. Block him. Toss the thing at the wall. Do not answer.”

Lyla calls again and sends an alert that Miguel is trying to contact you.

“Hit ignore! Don’t do it!” Gia reaches out for your watch.

You stand abruptly. It’s a stupid, stupid choice. You know it is. Gia is right, you should just chuck the thing in a garbage bag.

But you still fish your phone out of Gia’s purse and toss some cash at the bar.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize.

Your on and off again friends with benefits arrangement with Miguel comes to a close, but you just can’t seem to let him go.

Loosely based off “New Rules” by Dua Lipa.

“One: Don't pick up the phone You know he's only callin' 'cause he's drunk and alone Two: Don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three: Don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't gettin' over him.” “New Rules” by Dua Lipa.

—————

The outfit you’ve picked out for yourself tonight looks great. It’s a red little number that’s been in your closet for ages aching to be worn. You weren’t sure when you bought it how it would look like on you, but it makes you feel great when you catch a sight of yourself in the mirror. You look attractive, hot, and it steels some of your resolve as you head down to where you and your friend agreed to meet.

If you were being honest, you’ve really needed a confidence boost these past few days. The heart ache nestled deep in your chest wouldn’t go away and simply touring New York looking for villains of the week to fight wasn’t cutting it.

A sigh leaves your lips as you find yourself in a bar downtown. Gia, your roommate, has selected a bar for you both to have dinner at. It’s relatively quiet tonight with only a handful of people, yet it still offers plenty of distraction. You may not have been enthusiastic about going out, but you can appreciate having something else to put your mind to.

Although you can’t tell Gia the truth about your recent stint with heartbreak, she knows the details. She knows you had a little fling going on with a guy who checked all your boxes but just wasn’t willing to commit. He’d take you into his bed then leave before the sun rose. It was a never ending push and pull.

Gia didn’t understand why you couldn’t just block the guy and be done with it. She had already chastised you for your “lack of self control” and “frustrating addiction” to pain.

Of course, she didn’t know Miguel.

Miguel. The man who had come into your universe and invited you into his elite little Spider-Man task force to hunt for anomalies. The man who seemed to understand what loss was better than anyone and made you feel seen. Perhaps the only person who knew you better than you.

Gia didn’t get the song and dance you had around him because she didn’t know what it was like to exist as a masked vigilante losing everyone around you. She didn’t know how lonely it was or how sometimes you couldn’t tell who was under the mask. Or if there even was a part of you left that wasn’t just tied to your responsibilities as a hero.

Miguel was the only one who got you. The two of you had clicked like puzzle pieces after meeting. He favored you over the others and had moments where he seemed like he loved you back. Being with him was like finally finding a piece of yourself that you hadn’t realized was missing.

When the two of you had started sleeping together, you had been hopeful. Perhaps the little arrangement between you both would lead to something new. Hell, there had been plenty of moments where he had seemed softer outside of the bedroom and quite a few times you’d catch him staring with a look of affection-

But then everything would go wrong. The moment the two of you got close outside of a biblical sense, he’d pull back. Close you out and end things with you. You’d go days without speaking to each other feeling miserable and heart broken only to be suddenly called back by him.

He’d pull you back in like a magnet and sleep with you over and over again until the next time you ventured too close and he shoved you aside once more.

It was a very painful back and forth, yet you couldn’t find it in you to end things permanently. Not when he took up a large part of your heart, and not when he was your boss of all things.

Currently, you were on the outs again. He’d called it off a few days ago after a bad mission. He’d come back to HQ in a horrible mood and everyone else had suffered for it. When you’d walked up to his office to check in on him, he had snapped at you to leave. His words had been harsh and cold. He had ordered you to stop acting like his girlfriend, constantly checking in and taking care of him like a child, and reminded you that nothing existed between you other than two adults satisfying some urges.

His words had been a blow to your heart and you had left HQ suppressing tears. Gwen and Hobie had watched you go with sympathy, and Jess had mercifully delayed your missions for a while to give you time to recover. Either that or Miguel had ordered her to keep you away from him.

So, naturally, your best friend had suggested you go out for some drinks. Gia didn’t know about your alter ego or quite who Miguel was, but she knew enough to declare him undeserving of you and promised you’d find someone else.

You look up briefly when Gia arrives. She looks stunning in the neon dress she’s wearing and has done her hair in an elaborate style. There’s a happy grin on her face as she slides in the booth opposite of you and you envy her joy.

She calls your name and hugs you over the table.

“You look hot today!” She remarks.

You offer her your best smile which isn’t much. Already, you can feel some of your earlier apprehension return. You have no energy to be out and about with people. Tonight would have been so much better had you been able to curl up in bed with a box of tissues and some ice cream.

“Meet any cute people?” Gia asks. She rummages through the fries you’ve ordered while scanning the bar.

There’s a group of guys in one corner who eye her with appreciation. You think you catch one looking at you too, but you turn away uninterested. The guy seems handsome, but his eyes aren’t red and he doesn’t have two sets of fangs. He’s not the one you desperately want.

“I’m not feeling too social today,” you admit. You twirl your straw wrapper pensively.

Gia gives you a look with a deadpan expression. You know what she’s thinking. She finds it frustrating you can’t just let Miguel go. She doesn’t get why you’re so hung up on him.

But you are. You genuinely have fallen for him in your time working together. He’s showed you parts of him he’s never showed others. He’s told you about Gaby and how he raised her as a single father in her dimension for months before losing her. He’s told you about how he got his powers and the doubts that come with it. He’s shared his canon events with you and opened up to you about the stress he’s in with holding up the entire multiverse.

He’s let you in where he’s shut others out. You know he feels something for you, are sure of it deep in your bones, but he’s just not willing to admit it to himself. That’s what makes it all so frustrating. Loving someone who doesn’t love you back is torture, but loving someone who does yet won’t allow it for themselves is a death sentence.

Gia sighs and the sound rouses you out of your thoughts. She pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes tightly.

“You have really got to get back out there, babe. He’s not the only man in the world. He’s not adding to your life,” she shakes her head.

You look down at your hands.

“You know I can’t,” you murmur.

A part of you wishes you could. If you could flick a switch and let him go, you’d do it. You’d be better off forgetting all about him. It would save you so much heart ache, but your feelings run deep. He’s captured you completely, tangled you up in his web, and you can’t let him go.

Gia thrusts a hand out at you with a look of impatience. She wiggles her fingers and waits expectantly.

“Gia-“

“Ah, ah, you know the drill. Phone.”

You give her a glare but pass your phone over. Gia has insisted on confiscating it since your last break up. She doesn’t want you to be tempted to call Miguel. Of course, your watch is the only real way to connect with him because of the differences in universes, but you’re certainly not going to tell her that.

Instead, you purse your lips when she slides your phone into her purse and watch as she leans forward. She has a gleam in her eye when she surveys the bar. She’s watching every person carefully trying to assess who’s worth your time.

Eventually, she zeroes in on the guy from before. He’s broken off with his friends and is now sitting alone at the bar. Nursing a glass of something amber, he catches Gia’s eye as he throws another look your way.

You don’t even have time to react before Gia is yanking you up by your hand. She’s pitching you forward before you can even blink. You half wonder if she’s the one with superpowers and not you when you suddenly find yourself in front of the guy.

Gia waves the bartender forward and not so subtly shoves you towards the guy. You catch yourself on his chair with a hiss of her name.

“You alright?” The stranger blinks up at you in surprise.

“I am so sorry,” you hold your hands up, “My friend is drunk-“

Gia swoops in and tosses an arm around your shoulder. She has the same mischievous grin she wore back in college every time she had some idea terrible she was cooking up. It’s gotten you into some trouble before and scares you now.

“Hey, you look like you could use some company. My friend here just left her asshole ex. Why don’t you two catch up while I get us some drinks?” She pats your shoulder and is gone in a whirlwind of energy.

You could melt into the floor out of humiliation.

“OhgodGia,” you groan. You don’t even want to look at the stranger out of sheer embarrassment.

The stranger coughs lightly in surprise before offering you a smile. He blinks in Gia’s wake before offering his hand.

“Oh wow,” he remarks with his own blush, “Well that was subtle. But, please, sit. I-My name is Tyler.”

Knowing that Gia will kill you if you don’t at least try, you slide into the stool next to him slowly. Maybe if you entertain him for a few minutes you can satisfy Gia and convince her to take you home. Then you can proceed to strangle her in a dark alleyway away from witnesses for putting you in this situation.

“I am really sorry about her-again. She means well she’s just a lot,” you run a hand down your face and introduce yourself with your name.

The stranger, Tyler, seems friendly at least. He grins easily at you with his own embarrassment. You can tell Gia has put him on the spot too. At least the two of you have that in common.

“Well, at least she broke the ice for me. I saw you a while ago and thought you were really pretty. My own friends were teasing me too,” he offers.

You wave down the bartender and place an order. You definitely won’t get through Hurricane Gia without a drink.

“So, a break up?” Tyler offers a sympathetic smile, “Been there. I just broke up with my fiancée a few months ago. I think I spent an entire month living off of frozen pizza rolls and watching terrible documentaries just to take the edge off. I definitely know how awful it feels.”

His words put you at ease some. You swirl the ice around your glass.

“Breakup is maybe not the right word. We weren’t really together. I wanted more and he didn’t.”

It hurts to say it out loud. It sounds so pathetic when you put it that way, but you can’t help it. The truth is a brutal knife to the ribs.

Tyler makes a noise of sympathy.

“Well, he didn’t know what he missed out on. It’s his loss,” he lifts his glass to you.

You glance away and see Gia staring from your old table. She mouths for you to keep going. You flip her off when Tyler turns around.

“I’m really sorry about my friend. She’s determined that the way to get over heartache is to find someone else. I’m not really interested in that,” you admit. Better to lay your cards out now.

Tyler leans in like he’s about to tell you a secret.

“Don’t worry, I’m not either. My friends dragged me here tonight too. The one in the gray suit is getting married next month and wanted a chill night out. I’m not here to meet someone. It’s too soon, but maybe we can be friends? Breakup buddies and all that.”

He offers you his cellphone and asks for your number. You bite your lip but decide to take the plunge. Why not? It’s not like you owe any loyalty to anyone.

Once you’ve exchanged information, Tyler’s friends call him over. They’ve decided to move on to another bar across town. Tyler has no choice but to go.

He gets up and gives you a friendly wave.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he turns around then hesitates and turns back to you, “And, for the record, that ex of yours is an idiot. I wouldn’t have let someone like you go.”

Once he’s gone and you’re feeling bashful again, Gia slides into the seat he just occupied. She’s munching on fries like she didn’t just humiliate you. You aim a hard kick to her shin and feel better when she shrieks.

“Never do that to me again,” you warn.

She doesn’t promise you that. Instead, she presses you for info on Tyler.

“You two going on a date soon?” She urges.

“He just got out of a breakup too. He’s not interested either. I’m not going out with anyone.”

Gia sighs.

“Look, the important thing is that you let this mystery guy of yours go. This on and off thing is for high schoolers who haven’t developed their prefrontal cortex and have zero impulse control. You’re an adult. I don’t want to see you so broken up about him. You need to get him out of your system.”

You look away.

It sounds easy, you admit, but forgetting Miguel isn’t an option. He invaded your senses. You remember what it’s like to be held and kissed by him every time you try and push him aside. You remember the way he laughs when you manage to crack through his walls, the way he smiles when he thinks you aren’t looking, and the way his voice gets softer when you call. Even if he’s been yelling at someone moments before, his voice always gets soft when you appear.

He loves you. You know it. He probably knows it. Everyone in the agency knows it. It’s just that he’s not willing to take that final plunge.

Before you can say anything more, your watch begins to glow. Lyla is trying to patch a call through.

Gia doesn’t know much about your watch, but she knows enough to guess you’re being called. She narrows her eyes at you when she sees the way your body tenses.

“No.”

Her voice is firm and she jabs a finger at your chest.

“Do not do that. Hit ignore. Block him. Toss the thing at the wall. Do not answer.”

Lyla calls again and sends an alert that Miguel is trying to contact you.

“Hit ignore! Don’t do it!” Gia reaches out for your watch.

You stand abruptly. It’s a stupid, stupid choice. You know it is. Gia is right, you should just chuck the thing in a garbage bag.

But you still fish your phone out of Gia’s purse and toss some cash at the bar.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize.

The look Gia gives you is murderous. She puts her head in her hands like she’s fed up with you. In her place, you’d probably be fed up too.

Still, you slip out the bar and hit your watch. A little projection of Lyla appears as you duck into a secluded area.

“Lyla?” You tilt your head.

Lyla hums, “Miguel wants you at his office. Says he hasn’t seen you in a while. Poor Miggy is worried for you. You don’t usually spend so much time away from HQ.”

She patches a portal for you. You look around to make sure you aren’t being watched then slide in. Gia will definitely tear you a new one for this tomorrow, but can’t resist the urge not to go back to him.

———————————————

Miguel is standing by his computer when you arrive. He’s reading some reports when you pop in. His eyes glance at you as you emerge and his eyes widen.

You’re still in your outfit from the bar. It’s a little ego boost to see the way his eyes scan you from inch to inch. If nothing else, you can find comfort in the fact that you still have the power to drive him crazy.

“You called?” You voice.

HQ is empty this time of night. Most people are either back in their own universe or staying in some of the dorms on the other side of the building. For now, it’s just you and Miguel.

Some anticipation builds in your stomach. This is how a lot of your late night meetings have started.

Miguel straightens up from his chair. You don’t miss the way he swallows when he sees you.

“Did I interrupt something?”

You can’t be sure but maybe there’s just the hint of an edge to his voice. He sounds a little miffed, like he’s jealous. It’s a nice change from his usual aloofness with you.

“I went out for drinks,” you admit, “What is it?”

It’s been days since you’ve last seen him and you missed him. It’s so easy to miss him. He has a hold on you that you can’t possibly escape from. He’s magnetic without trying, has a good heart even if he hides it behind a facade of anger and coldness, and he cares about people. He’s a good person. You’ve glimpsed it all and have fallen hard. Being without him hurts more than any broken bone or injury.

Miguel hesitates when he looks at you. You take stock of him.

He has dark circles under his eyes and looks stressed. A part of you hopes it’s because your last argument has also been keeping him up. If you aren’t the only one hurting, you think it’ll make you feel better. Then again, there’s a mountain of paperwork on his desk and his computer has a ton of messages unread. Maybe it’s less you and more the job itself that has kept him up.

“Jess said you needed a few days off because you weren’t feeling well. I just wanted to make sure you were healthy,” he turns away from you, “Yet I’m sure you are. If you can go around drinking, you can go on a mission.”

A prickle of irritation fills you.

“Did you just call me here because of that? This could have been an email.”

You hope your face doesn’t show the disappointment you feel. For a second, you had been expecting him to have changed. To have admitted he was wrong and hadn’t treated you fairly. Then again, this was Miguel. Miguel wasn’t exactly known for being sentimental or emotional.

“What else is there?” He doesn’t even turn around before he’s at his computer, “I’m assigning you a case this week. Your little vacation is over. You’re dismissed.”

Indignation fills you. You shake your head firmly.

“Come on, Miguel. Give me a little more than that. I haven’t seen you in days and all you do is assign me more work? That’s it?”

You step forward towards him.

He turns around and glares. His eyes flash with a warning.

“That’s it. Go.”

He’s got the voice he uses for the other recruits. The one you’ve heard him scold Hobie and Peter B. in plenty of times. It’s not one he tends to use on you, and you bristle.

“Why did you call me here? Lyla wouldn’t open a portal for me if it was just for work.”

Miguel’s jaw is clenched.

“Well she did that without me asking. I didn’t want you here.”

His words are a blow to the stomach, and your anger grows. You jab a finger at him and glare.

“You’re not even going to apologize? You insult me days ago then want to be professional again without apologizing-“

“Why would I apologize?” His own anger is rising, “I meant what I said. You knew what this was when we started. I’m not sorry you forgot.”

A huff leaves your lips. You shake your head and take another step forward.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re annoying.”

You meet each other half way. His face is clouded with anger. You can feel your heart race in your chest from you own rage.

“I can’t believe you won’t admit that you want more between us.”

“And I can’t believe you’re testing my self control showing up here in this dress and pointing a finger at me,” he retorts. His eyes go down to your lips. You can sense what he’s about to do.

You lean in first and he devours you. The kiss is full of fire and anger. You’re both pent up and stressed. It burns and consumes you in a way you’ve been longing.

Anger fuels you and you take his hair in your hand giving it a firm tug earning a hiss from him. He picks you up and sets you on a nearby desk. The files scatter on the ground. Neither of you notice.

“You’re not going to apologize?” You hiss it between breaths.

He makes a sound at the back of his throat, “I’ve got nothing to apologize for. My intentions were always clear.”

His mouth goes for your throat. Your rebuke is lost as his hands begin to inch under your dress. The words he’s spitting out at you hurt, but his fingers soothe the sting when he explores your body.

This is a mistake. Gia is right. You should shove him off you and walk away. You’ll never get over him if you’re still sleeping with him, yet you can’t seem to do that. Your body amidst the haze of ecstasy won’t allow it.

Instead, you close your eyes and give in. You let him fuck you in his office all while telling yourself you’ll deal with the fallout in the morning. You don’t think of the consequences or how much this will hurt when the sun rises-

And it does.

It hurts like hell when you blink awake after dozing off in his chair and find him gone in the morning. He’s left for the day and a note near you is the only thing he leaves behind. You read it then throw it into the waste bin with tears running down your face.

In his messy scrawl he’s written, THIS CHANGES NOTHING.

———————————————

Gia has her arms crossed when you return to your shared apartment. She knows where you’ve been. She can see it in the bites he’s left along your neck and shoulders. The walk of shame you just took burns.

“You slept with him, huh?” Her eyes are narrowed in annoyance.

You sign and bury your head in your hands. She isn’t done with you yet. Her judgement feels thick against your skin.

“And he left again, huh? Right after he got what he wanted.”

The question makes you cry. You burst into tears feeling regret and heartbreak. Gia sighs and her gaze softens. She wraps her arms around you and holds you close.

What’s worse is that the pain of his rejection doesn’t hold a candle to the pain of missing him. It’s illogical and pathetic, but you and Gia both know this won’t be the last time you make this same mistake.

And it isn’t.

Days later, he appears at your doorstep and you welcome him into your bed again.

———————————————

Days after that encounter, you open the door to find Miguel bleeding in the hallway. He has a large gash across his side that looks painful. He stumbles inside before you can even react.

“Miguel?”

You close the door behind you as he hisses in pain.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come, but I need a first aid kit,” he groans.

You’re grateful Gia isn’t here. You don’t think you could explain why Miguel is bleeding in his spider suit. That or why you let your ex back inside again.

Deciding to shelve your personal feelings, you hurry him over to the kitchen and set him down on a chair. There’s a first aid kit under the sink. You’ve used it plenty of times before when you come back from fighting crime.

Miguel is strong and puts on a brave face as you go about patching him up. The gash at his side is the worst one, but his knuckles are also bleeding and there’s a tiny cut on the side of his chin that looks painful too. It doesn’t look like he’ll need stitches, but it does look bad.

“What happened?” You look up at him.

“Anomaly. I took it down, but it got me on the side. I didn’t even think before coming here. I’m sorry.”

He looks away as you work. You wish you could tell what thoughts are running through his mind. Your own are consumed with the fact that he’s here.

HQ was just a click of the watch away. Lyla could have called him to the medics there and gotten him help. Why had he showed up at your place? You haven’t spoken since the night at his office.

The memory of it stings and you purse your lips.

This is probably a mistake. The second mistake you’ve made this week. Things won’t end well if you don’t develop a sense of self control, but you’re not sure you want to let go. Despite everything, there’s still a little nag of hope that’s rooted itself deep into your heart. You don’t want to give up.

“You weren’t at HQ these past few days either,” Miguel speaks up. He suppresses a wince when you finish his side. The skin there is already starting to heal over. A testament to his powers.

The bruises on his knuckles look worse than they are. It takes just a bit of treatment to get them to start healing too. Soon, the cuts are just dark bruises.

“I did my mission. I let Hobie do the report for me,” you explain.

The mission he had assigned you on had been easy. You and Hobie had taken the anomaly down without question. It was just another villain of the week. At the end, Hobie had offered to go back to HQ without you to check in with Jess and Miguel. You had fled back to your universe certain that you couldn’t face people there just yet.

A muscle on his jaw works as he tightens it, “You don’t have to avoid me. I’m sorry for what happened earlier.”

His words make you ache. You hate feeling this way. Always dancing around the truth but never able to fully face it.

The final cut he has is on his chin. You have to look at his face to tend to it. His eyes are trained on you and the depths there take your breath away.

There’s trepidation and nervousness there along with something else. It’s soft and meek like he’s trying to shield it. You think it’s a cross between longing and affection.

He does love you too. You believe it strongly. He just doesn’t want to admit it. Miguel is the kind of man who can face hordes of villains and never falter, but ask him to open up and share his feelings and he panics. He can’t even be honest with himself.

Your fingers trace the planes of his face as you apply a thin layer of ointment on the cut.

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” you whisper. It always seemed like he wanted you as far away from himself as possible. You had agreed to give him that even if it slowly killed you, “Why did you come here tonight? Really?”

Lyla wouldn’t have sent him to you if he hadn’t asked. For all of her teasing of him, she is mostly obedient. She would know not to send him where he doesn’t want to. The fact that he came to your door means a part of him did.

Why? Why tell you to keep your distance then show up at your home anyway? Could there also be a part of him that finds you just as impossible to be away from? Or are you clinging to him and seeing what isn’t there?

A faint trace of color has spread through his face. You blink. Without realizing it, your fingers have been stroking his chin. It’s such a habit that you never even noticed it.

An apology forms on your lips and you drop you hand before he intercepts it. He takes your hand in his and stares down at it. The muscle in his jaw works again.

“I wanted to see you. Hobie said you had been injured on your mission. I nearly came here then and there,” he admits. It’s a quiet breath into the night like he can’t believe he’s admitting it. Your heart picks up.

The injury in question had been a simple broken rib. Your powers come with accelerated healing. By the time you had noticed it, it had already started repairing itself. Hobie and Miguel both know this, yet he had been worried. A part of you dares to hope again.

And then you remember the way he had left you in his office. The note that had broken your heart. The way he took and never gave anything back. An ugly feeling twists in the pit of your stomach.

“I really don’t know why you’re doing this to me,” you breathe out.

It hurts to be led on. It hurts to be discarded. Maybe Gia is right. Maybe you should just let go. Resign from the agency and ignore the thought of him forever.

You pull your hand free and turn around. His eyes follow you as you begin to pack your first aid kit.

When he calls your name, his voice is soft and hesitant. It fills you with a yearning that aches.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, “We just can’t-“

“We can’t? Or you can’t?”

Miguel is brave but there is one fear he can never face. He’s lost so much already and is afraid of losing more. That’s why he keeps people at an arm’s reach. No one is allowed into his heart because he’s lost everyone thus far. His own daughter, or at least in another universe, had disappeared in his arms. He won’t let anyone else in.

A rational part of you knows it. You know he’s pushing you away because he’s scared. He doesn’t want to lose you to the danger of your jobs or the universe that keeps you apart-

But doesn’t he see that he’s losing you anyway? That pushing you away is slowly killing your worse than a villain ever could?

By the time you turn around to look at him, you are surprised to find him right behind you. His hands slot around your waist and he presses his forehead to yours. It’s an affectionate gesture he doesn’t do often. Perhaps the adrenaline from the fight he just came back from is still coursing through his veins and making him more vulnerable.

Your name falls out of his lips like a prayer. You barely have time to react before he’s kissing you.

This kiss is different from the one at HQ. It’s full of fear and adrenaline. He kisses you like he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to do it again. Maybe you should never let him do it again.

It’s addicting. You cling to him like he’ll disappear if you don’t. Surely he will disappear if you don’t. It feels like home when the two of you touch. You’re two halves of a whole never truly feeling satisfied if you aren’t together.

Life would be so much easier if he just admitted he loved you too. If he took a chance on you both. It would save you so much heartache.

It’s a really bad idea to do this tonight, you think. You haven’t discussed anything. You haven’t come to an agreement or settled out your feelings. The two of you are merely working on instinct.

But that doesn’t stop you from leading him to your bed. His injuries don’t stop him from sleeping with you. The darkness of the night offers some cover for what you’re doing. Some way to hide from the emotions you are trying so hard to evoke and he so hard to restrain.

It’s a long night for you both. By the time you’re done, you’re exhausted and he has to go back to his world. You don’t say anything as he turns to dress. Sleep is slowly creeping up along with the smallest whisper in your head that chides you for doing this again. Falling back into his web without measuring the consequence.

Before he leaves, he kisses your forehead. It’s a soft piece of affection he’s never done before after sex. If you weren’t so tired and sleep weren’t already dragging your eyelids shut, you would have asked him to stay.

Still, before he leaves, you swear you hear him whisper an “I love you” into your skin. You can never be truly sure of it. Perhaps it was a dream your subconscious did to ease your heartbreak, but you want to believe it’s true anyway.

It isn’t until the next morning that you wake up alone again and hate yourself for putting yourself through this once more.

———————————————

Avoiding HQ isn’t doing you any favors. There’s a mountain of work with your name on it that you haven’t done in a while. Jess has been patient thus far, but you hate to add more stress to her plate.

You’re an adult. You can do professional. Even if your ex is the leader of the agency, you know you can keep calm and work.

So days after your last encounter, you ask Lyla for a portal and set off for HQ. Gwen nods at you as you pass by and you detect a hint or worry on her face. You offer her a weak smile in turn and hurry to your desk.

Paperwork is tedious. You’ve always hated to write mission reports, but it keeps your mind occupied. You breeze through five entire files before your fingers begin to cramp.

The sun in Miguel’s universe is starting to set by the time you finally give up. The workload has eased some, but you’re stuck on one particular file. The document needs some information that Miguel has in his computer. Lyla doesn’t respond when you call her, likely helping out with another mission some other team has been sent on, so you have no choice but to go to his office.

A pit of anxiety forms in your stomach. You dread walking up the stairs to where his office is. It’s been days since you last made the mistake of letting him in, and you’re not eager to see him again. Still, you can’t just shirk your duties because you’re heartbroken.

So you make yourself a promise not to sleep with him this time and go up the stairs. You tell yourself you won’t let him back in for once. That you’ll cut him off cold turkey and be out of his hair before he can even react. Maybe if you copy the document fast, you can get out before he even has a chance to speak-

But then the sound of voices reaches your ear. You can make out Miguel’s voice and someone else’s. Peter B.? It seems the two are talking in his office.

It’s wrong of you to listen in, you know it, and you almost go back down the stairs deciding to come back tomorrow-

But then Peter B. says your name and you freeze. For a moment, you panic that maybe they know you’re here. Maybe one of them has detected you with their senses or maybe Miguel has smelled you. However, it later becomes apparent they’re just talking about you.

Curiosity burns and you hesitate. It’s wrong, an invasion of their privacy, but you can’t help yourself. If they’re discussing you without your presence, you think you’re owed some rights to hear what they’re saying.

So you inch back to the door and listen in making sure to keep yourself discrete.

Peter B. sounds serious for once. It’s uncharacteristic for him. He’s talking to Miguel and you can hear something in his voice like he’s upset.

“-ow long are you going to keep doing this? You’re both miserable.”

He’s scolding Miguel. His words sound both sympathetic and exasperated. He reminds you so much of Gia that you almost roll your eyes.

“This isn’t your business,” Miguel’s voice is a growl. You recognize the dark tone he uses. It’s a tone he’s used on you before in arguments. He uses it when you pry too close and he gets frightened.

“I’m your friend,” Peter B. argues back, “I’m just looking out for you.”

There’s the scrape of a chair like he’s flung himself into a seat. You can practically imagine them both sitting across from each other. Miguel skulking and trying to ignore him while he talks while Peter B. chastises him.

Since they’ve met, Peter B. has called himself Miguel’s friend. Miguel denies it vehemently and claims not to have friends, yet he doesn’t kick him out when he intrudes. He always seems to let him talk or lets him bring Mayday to work. It’s likely that, like your situation, Miguel does think of Peter as a friend even if he would never admit it.

“We are not friends. You should go home,” Miguel bites back.

Peter makes a sound like he’s shaking his head. You hear him sigh and the chair creaks as he shifts his weight.

“Look, I get it. I do. I was divorced once, but come on, Miguel. This isn’t healthy. You keep torturing yourself with this over and over again. When will you just admit the truth to yourself?” His voice sounds tired.

Miguel is silent. You wish he weren’t. You’d love to hear what he’s thinking.

Peter continues.

“You sleep with her, you ask Lyla to check in with her, you watch her on your screens, you send her out on the least dangerous missions, and you panic when she gets hurt. Why can’t you just admit you’re in love with her and let her in. We all deserve a chance to be happy, right?”

You manage to bite back the gasp that rises up your throat.

There. Peter has said it out loud. The one thing you’ve never said out loud or Miguel.

There’s a very tense silence that follows. Miguel refuses to budge. You can practically imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose the way he does when he’s upset.

Frustration fills you. You wish he’d say something. Anything. Finally admit the truth to someone even if it isn’t to you. Or at least admit the truth to himself.

You know he loves you. Everyone around you knows too. Jess, Hobie, Gwen, Pav, Peter, Ben…Everyone knows. It’s just getting him to say it out loud and do something about it that’s the hard part.

A hand slams on something. You almost jump. It seems Miguel has taken his frustration out on a monitor. You can hear the static chirping as the screen splits in half.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he hisses it out at Peter, “She’s just a colleague.”

Peter doesn’t give up. You hear his chair scrape as he stands.

“You don’t do everything you’re doing for a colleague. Look, I lost Mary Jane too once. She left me and I was miserable. I would have never have found happiness again or gotten Mayday if I hadn’t just let go of my fear. Someone once told me it’s all just a leap of faith.”

A leap of faith. You think you like that expression.

Miguel doesn’t.

“I’m not afraid and our situations aren’t comparable. Your wife was from your universe. You belonged to the same world. She didn’t have powers that made her risk her life daily. She wasn’t always in danger. You know our line of work. You know why I can’t.”

You hear him begin to pace. He’s going for his stage system. If he ascends up, he’ll brood forever and Peter’s efforts will be for naught. You hope he manages to stop him before that happens.

He does. You can hear when Peter clicks off the elevator’s button and when Miguel growls out a warning for him to quit.

“You are afraid, and that’s okay. You just can’t let fear destroy you. I was afraid to have Mayday and look at me! I love being a dad. You should let her in. Let yourself be happy. You’ve already lost enough.”

You think to Miguel’s daughter. The way he had broken when he had lost her. You think of his canon events and the people he’s watched die. It makes sense that he’s so terrified about letting you in. You get it.

However, Peter is right. Fear shouldn’t control him. You’re afraid too about loving someone in your line of work, but you’ve decided to be brave. In a world where you could die any moment, isn’t it better to die having have experienced a great love? Doesn’t the reward outweigh the pain?

Miguel mutters a string of Spanish. He’s irritated and beginning to shut down. Any moment now he’ll close himself up. You just hope Peter’s words were enough to get him to think.

Your hopes, however, are shattered when he next speaks.

“I’ll end things with her then. Happy? Set her free. She doesn’t deserve being strung along-“

“Miguel, that’s not what-“

Peter’s words are cut off as the elevator is turned back on. Your eyes burn with tears and anger floods you.

Stupid, stupid man. Too stubborn and cowardly for his own good.

“Don’t do this, Miguel, come on!” Peter practically begs him as the elevator begins to make its ascent up, “It’s not just you you’re hurting.”

“I’m going to end things once and for all. You’re right. This isn’t fair.”

Miguel’s words are final and the elevator clangs as he reaches the top. Moments later, you hear Peter drop into his chair out of frustration. That’s your key to leave.

You storm off HQ and call on Lyla. This time she answers. Whatever playful retort was on her tongue earlier dies away when she sees your tears.

You don’t give her a chance to ask what’s wrong. Instead, you demand a portal back to your world.

Emerging back into your apartment, you storm over to your cellphone. Gia was right, you think, you do need to get him out of your system. So you scroll until you find the text from Tyler all those nights ago at the bar and you send him a message inviting him over.

If Miguel wants to call things off, then you’re way ahead of him.

———————————————

Tyler is a great guy. He shows up at your apartment with some take out and doesn’t pry when he sees your poor attempt at concealing your pain. He’s entirely platonic and friendly when you invite him in.

He knows this isn’t anything more than a distraction. You two are break up buddies. There’s no romance or lust between either of you, so there’s no nervousness or tension when you sit down to eat.

Gia has left for the night pleased that you’ve finally taken her advice. You don’t have the strength in you to clarify that it isn’t like that and she doesn’t have to leave your apartment to give you privacy.

“Hope you like Chinese,” Tyler holds up some takeout boxes.

“Love it,” you reply. You try to sound upbeat and positive, but it falls flat. Tyler gives you a look of concern but doesn’t comment. He’s willing to give you space.

The two of you plop down on the couch and you let him choose a channel. He opts for a shitty B film with monsters. The acting is so poor that you find yourself snorting.

Tyler makes you laugh too. He makes it a game to spot plot holes and inconsistencies. The one who finds the most will get to pick dessert.

He’s good company. When you find yourself starting to think too long on what happened, he makes a joke to get your attention back. Perhaps if you hadn’t fallen in love with Miguel, maybe the two of you could have been something. In another universe, maybe you do end up with Tyler.

Still, in this universe, your heart is still broken.

At some point, you win and you decide on a key lime pie in the fridge. Tyler brings out some wine and you settle down into the kitchen table.

“I didn’t want to pry, but are you feeling better?” He looks at you over the rim of his glass.

“Better than this afternoon,” you admit. It’s not completely a lie.

You needed this. Being able to spend time with a friend is a good distraction. Tyler is a good guy. He doesn’t pry anymore after that question.

Instead, the two of you talk about anything and everything. You feel at ease. He makes you laugh and smile quite a few times. By the time midnight comes around, you’re surprised that you lost track of time.

He stands up and decides to call a ride-share. You tell him not too. It’s too dangerous for him to be out at night. You offer him your bed and insist when he protests. You’ll take Gia’s bed. She always takes yours when she has family over at your apartment. You know she won’t have a problem if you take hers for a night.

The two of you go to bed in your own rooms. You find your thoughts drifting towards Miguel, but you shut them down. You really don’t want to think of him now. Not when he’s decided that he’s going to end things once and for all.

At some point you drift off to sleep. You don’t wake up until the next morning when someone knocks on your door.

Your room door is still shut, Tyler is sleeping in. You don’t even think before opening the door convinced that it’s Gia coming back. However, the person standing in the hallway makes you freeze.

It’s Miguel, not Gia, who stands there. He’s wearing civilian clothing and looks miserable. There’s exhaustion on every plane if his face like he hasn’t slept a wink thinking. You hesitate.

“Miguel?”

He hangs back taking you in. You must look like a mess in your pajamas. If you weren’t still half asleep, maybe you’d be embarrassed.

“Can I come in?” He calls your name softly and adds a ‘please’ when you don’t move an inch for the longest time.

You glance at your room door hoping Tyler is still asleep when you let him in.

The last time Miguel was here, you two slept together. It feels maddening to have him so close again.

“What do you need? Lyla didn’t call me.”

You try to keep your voice even, steady. It’s an attempt to hide the turmoil inside you. Miguel hesitates when he sees the two wine glasses on the table. You had left them out yesterday. Still, he opts not to ask about it.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Miguel admits, “I haven’t been fair.”

You remember his conversation with Peter. Is he here to end things once and for all? You wrap you arms around yourself to keep you steady.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel murmurs, “For everything. You didn’t deserve it. I took advantage.”

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do,” you shake your head, “It’s not taking advantage if you were honest from the beginning. I just got my hopes up.”

The words feel bitter in your tongue. You look down at the floor.

“But I wasn’t honest,” Miguel admits. It’s a quiet whisper that makes you look up. He looks like he’s struggling. He’s never been good at vocalizing his feelings or talking things out. This is a major effort for him, “I lied. I wasn’t being honest.”

He takes a step towards you and you stare blankly at him. You don’t want to get your hopes up.

He calls your name again. A plea.

“I wasn’t honest when I told you I didn’t want anything between us. I was being a coward. Peter B. poked his nose where he didn’t belong and talked some sense into me. Jess chewed me out too last night. They both made me realize how terrible I’ve been.”

So Jess had talked to him too. It was probably after you had left. Having been on the receiving end of her scolding before, you can imagine it was a harsh awakening for him. It must have been if he’s deviated from his initial plan with Peter.

You wait patiently as he gathers his thoughts. This is a huge effort for him, and you know it doesn’t come easy. Some hope rises in your chest.

“The truth is, I’ve been lying to the both of us for a long time. I-it isn’t just sex, alright? It was never just sex.”

He takes a step closer. You watch him closely. His eyes are open to you now. You can see the emotions there. The affection, the heartbreak, the yearning, the fear, the love. It makes your breath hitch.

“Miguel-“

He cuts you off gently. His hand goes for your cheek. He hesitates just briefly, his fear wanting him to bolt, but he fights it back. When his skin touches yours, a little spark has you both feeling dizzy.

“The truth is, I do want more. I’ve wanted more since you walked into HQ to begin with. I kept pushing you away because I was scared. I know you probably don’t want anything to do with me, I wouldn’t blame you if you told me to leave, but I want you to know the truth. I don’t want you to think it was something you did or that you were never good enough.”

Silence reigns between you both. Emotion chokes your words. He leans in briefly.

“I want this,” he breathes out, “You terrify me, this scares me, and I hate feeling this sense of panic, but I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t like seeing you cry or pushing you away.”

“I-“

The words die in your throat. You think about how you want to tell him that you love him, that you want this with him too, and that you’ve been waiting for this moment. This dream of yours has finally come true and you feel like you can finally breathe again. You want to pour everything you feel into your words so that he can understand everything you’ve gone through. You just don’t know how.

To his credit, he waits patiently. His eyes are warm when he looks at you. It’s the type of look he’s only given you before when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Your heart races in your chest.

Just when you think you’ve found the right words to respond-

The door opens behind you. A half asleep Tyler stumbles out still unaware of his surroundings.

The world stops.

You see the moment Miguel turns his head and spots him. He realizes he’s coming out of your room. Slowly, you see everything start to fall apart.

You want to beg him to listen, explain to him that it isn’t like this, and tell him that nothing happened. Yet he’s already moving away from you. His eyes cycle between betrayal, jealousy, heartbreak, and fury before he closes himself off. He takes a step back and an entire chasm opens up between the two of you. Whatever progres you two had just made is now gone.

Tyler blanches when he spots Miguel. You see the wheels churn in his head and he realizes what happened. What he’s just done unintentionally. The last of the sleep disappears from his system and is replaced by shock.

“Oh god, sorry,” Tyler blanks.

For a moment, you think you see Miguel tense. He’s like a coil waiting to spring. You suspect he’s getting ready to launch himself at Tyler. You take a step between them to try and stop him and try to explain-

It’s too late. Miguel reins in his self control and doesn’t strike. Instead, he straightens himself out and turns away.

“I didn’t realize you had company,” his voice is a deadpan growl much more terrifying than anything you’ve ever heard before. You move before you can think. Your hand snags his sleeve to try and explain what just happened-

He firmly tugs himself free of your grasp. His voice is cold, detached, and guarded when he answers back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you two get back to it. This was a mistake I won’t make again.”

He storms out of your apartment with his entire body practically seething with anger. You try and follow only to see him disappear in the middle of the hallway. Lyla closes the portal before you can follow.

Tyler is incredibly apologetic when he leaves. He feels terrible he’s ruined things for you. You half heartedly tell him it’s not his fault. It’s all yours, really.

By the time he’s gone, you feel like someone has taken your heart and crushed it in the palm of their hand. You crawl back into Gia’s bed and sob until your head begins to pound. Everything feels ruined.

———————————————

Gia finds you there sometime in the morning. She smiles and opens her mouth to tease you about your date when she catches sight of your face. Immediately she pales and rushes forward.

“What’s wrong? Did Tyler hurt you?” Her hands come around you and she holds you tightly.

You shake your head.

“Then what happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she fusses over your tears. Her eyes are wide with surprise. You reckon you’re giving her a terrible fright.

In between sobs, the story pours out of you.

You tell her everything. How Miguel had come to tell you that he wanted a romantic relationship between you, how you had been about to tell him that you loved him too, and how Tyler had given him the wrong idea.

You’re practically shaking by the time you’re done. Gia presses her lips together and holds you closer.

Your heart has never broken quite like this before. It’s in millions of tiny pieces. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to pick them back up. Not with what happened.

Gia holds you until you’re done crying. She’s pensive as she stares out the window. Finally, she sighs.

“Call him.”

It’s such a deviation from her old advice that you blink at her. It pains her to say it out loud. She looks like she bit into a lemon when she does, but she powers through.

“Look, this guy got the wrong idea, right? Go see him and explain things. Don’t let him get away. It sounds like he genuinely cares for you.”

You wipe away at a tear on your cheek and glance at her.

“You hate him,” you mumble. Gia helps you clean up your face. Her hands are gentle.

“I hated him because I thought he was just a booty call leading you on. It sounds like he does love you back. You shouldn’t let him go after a misunderstanding, right? At least explain what happened to him and go from there,” she bites her cheek, “If you’ve been fighting for him all this time, what’s one more battle? Give it one last try.”

Her advice seems so simple. You sniff until some of your tears finally dry. Your head is pounding but it’s nothing compared to the agony that is in your chest.

Gia helps you dress and gives you breakfast. She wishes you well. When this is all over, whether it ends in tragedy or success, you’ll have to thank her. She’s put up with so much on your behalf.

You tell her you’re going to his apartment. Trepidation fills you as you round a corner. You call up Lyla on your watch.

When she greets you, her face is downtrodden. You miss her cheery and teasing personality.

“It’s not a good idea for you to head over there right now,” Lyla hesitates, “He’s in a mood. He’s been smashing things and throwing stuff in his office all morning.”

You wince wracked with guilt. You hurt him. Sure he probably deserved it after how badly he’s hurt you, but you still never meant to do that to him.

“Lyla, please let me in,” you beg.

Lyla looks away.

“He told me he didn’t want you anywhere near HQ for a few weeks. You’ve been put on leave.”

Panic grips you. You need to speak with him. You hold the watch up and beg.

“Lyla, please. Please let me make things right. He’s got the wrong idea.”

It takes some more begging. Lyla looks torn. She doesn’t want to anger Miguel further after this morning, but she also doesn’t want him to hurt himself on a misunderstanding. Finally, she wilts and opens a portal. You jump in before you have a chance to second guess yourself.

———————————————

Lyla had understated the sight of Miguel’s office. It’s a complete war zone. His monitors are smashed on the ground, his desk is half way across the room, and there’s broken glass everywhere. He’s destroyed everything in his wake. You wince as you step over broken wood and metal.

Jess has opened the door for you. She tells you to leave immediately if things get messy. Miguel really doesn’t want to see you right now. Lyla will be on standby ready to send you home or anywhere else if you ask her to.

You wave them both away as you search for Miguel. His elevator is on the ground which means he has to be somewhere on this floor.

After a while, you find him. He’s staring out the window and his entire back is rigid. He senses you before you have a chance to speak.

“Get out.”

It’s a harsh bark of an order that makes you wince. You stay rooted to the spot.

“Miguel-“

“Lyla, get her out.”

He taps on his watch and Lyla appears. She looks between the two of you before shaking her head.

“No can do. Jess has me working a different mission. Sorry, Miggy. Guess you’ll have to talk things out like adults.”

She winks out before Miguel can press her again. You hear the sound of anger he makes as she disappears. He still doesn’t turn around to look at you.

“I came to speak to you,” you hear yourself say. You’re surprised your voice sounds so calm. You certainly don’t feel okay. Your ears are roaring and your heart is going a million miles a minute.

“I don’t want to hear it. See yourself out.”

This time he does turn. His face is completely devoid of expression and he moves away from you.

You spin around to follow.

“What you saw isn’t what it looks like. Tyler and I are just friends.”

Miguel huffs something that sounds like a laugh. It sends shivers down your spine. He says Tyler’s name under his breath like a curse.

“It doesn’t matter,” he waves you away, “You and I are just coworkers. Nothing more.”

His words ache but you don’t let them land. You know the truth. He’s told you it just a few hours ago.

“Miguel, stop,” you come up behind him. He’s completely tense when you grab his hand to stop him.

“Enough,” he says your name with a warning, “Go home. There’s nothing more to say.”

You don’t budge. There’s a terrible voice inside your head that tells you that letting him go now would be a mistake. That if you don’t clarify things, you’ll lose him forever.

You try again.

“Nothing happened between us. I only care about you. Please look at me,” you plea. You try to sidestep him to put yourself in his direct field of vision.

He turns around.

“It wouldn’t matter if it had, you owe me no loyalty. We were never together,” he argues back. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of that. Perhaps he’s been turning those words over in his head all morning.

You won’t let him leave. He needs to know the truth. If he decides afterwords that he still doesn’t want you, fine. You’ll give up and resign from the agency. You’ll go back to your old life and force yourself to let him go, but he needs to know the truth at the very least.

“Nothing happened at all. We slept in separate beds. There is no one else but you,” you move forward, “I was going to tell you then that I do want you. That I’ve always wanted you.”

He still won’t look at you. You manage to stand in front of him and force him to see you. You want him to look and see the sincerity in your gaze. The love you hold for him burns bright when you meet his eyes.

Some of the tension from his body leaves. He sees that you mean every word. That if Tyler hadn’t interrupted, you would have told him you loved him then and there.

But he’s still afraid. He’s warring with himself over what to do. His instincts tell him to push you aside like he’s been doing. To save himself further pain by cutting you off once and for all. Another part of him is crying out for him not to. The part of himself he had bared for you this morning wants him to give in. To hear you out and be honest with himself.

You hope that other part of himself wins. You need that part of himself to win.

“Please believe me,” you whisper, “It’s only ever been you.”

His eyes close as your hands trace his face. You have to stand up on your tippy toes to reach him.

After a long pause, he sighs.

“Do you know how much it killed me to see him? To imagine him touching you? I almost killed him. The worst part was that I knew it was all my fault. That you owed me nothing and it wouldn’t have mattered if you had decided to move on because I pushed you away.”

“Do you know how much it killed me to be pushed away?” You murmur. It’s not a rebuke or retort. There’s no poison or malice behind your words, you just want him to understand that you’ve both been hurting.

He winces anyway. His eyes trace every inch of your face as if looking for something. You aren’t sure what he’s searching for, but you do know there’s more you haven’t said.

“I want to be with you. I’ve been fighting for you since the beginning. If you don’t want me, then tell me. Tell me once and for all, so that I can move on because I’ve been suffocating these past few days,” you slowly withdraw from him to give him space, “I love you, Miguel. But I can’t keep doing this. You’re breaking me.”

Silence descends in the room. Your heart beats wildly in your chest.

There. The ball is in his court now. He can either accept or reject you. Either way, this game between you will be over.

He’s quiet for so long that you suspect he’s made his choice. You try not to show how heartbroken you are when you take a step back. You’re about to apologize for wasting his time when he surges forward.

You don’t have time to react before he’s picking you up. His mouth crashes against yours and his kiss steals your breath away. He pours everything in it. His heartbreak, his longing, his love of you. It’s so powerful that you feel your self start to melt. You respond in kind kissing him back just as fiercely.

He holds you to him as if afraid that you’ll disappear if he lets you go. You two meet again and again. In between breaths, he pants your name. It isn’t until both of your mouths are bruised that you manage to come up for air.

He leans into you almost immediately after, kissing your throat and murmuring against your skin.

“I want you. I’ve wanted you since the beginning. I’m sorry,” he kisses your mouth gently in another apology, “I don’t deserve this.”

You cut him off before his thoughts can spiral again.

“I love you,” you repeat. His eyes close like he can barely believe it so you say it again. When he opens his eyes, you see the love for you in them. You’ve always known he loved you. Now, you finally have a confirmation.

“I love you too,” he responds. It takes your breath away. You’ve been waiting for a really long time to hear those words.

The next time you kiss, it’s less frenzied. This time, you both know you have time to pace things out. You’ll have all the time you need from now on. You’re both done pushing each other away and breaking your hearts.

His heart is racing against you and you feel your own beat against your ribcage. Still, you press forward. Declarations of love spill forth between heated kisses and nips. You’re drowning in each other.

For the first time in ages, things slowly start to fall into place. The darkness looming over you is gone replaced by a beautiful sunlight. You feel yourself smile into the kiss and he kisses you more softly as a result.

The two of you will have to talk at length more in the future. You’ll have to discuss what you being in an official relationship will mean in terms of your jobs and your different universes, but that’s all a problem for tomorrow. For now, you’re both content to be with each other and to celebrate the fact that you are now together.

The road ahead will not be easy. Nothing in life ever is. Yet you know you can both weather it if you fight for each other the way you’ve been fighting each other. There’s nothing the two of you can’t survive if you work hard.

Together.

[dwindlinghaze]

ribbon and sweater

(remus lupin x fem!reader)

summary: remus finds himself slowly in love with a girl, but he doesn't like it, doesn't like the way you make him feel some type of way.

contents: fluff, soft/shy reader, enemies to lover (kinda), reader likes ribbons and pearls and angels and somewhat feminine, mean remus, angst to fluff. it's long so buckle up!

a/n: i'm quite proud of this cdhfyz

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you.

you with your pretty hair that falls to your face and the ribbons that tied half of them together made something in remus swirl.

the way you scrunched your face when you laugh with mary and lily sends butterflies to his stomach.

and he hated it. he hated how much impact you had on him. he always considered himself as a collected person, but he would fall for you all over the place.

maybe because he never lets anyone in and the fact that he wants you in is terrifying to him.

you were once partner in potions. he heard your sweet voice and it sent him spiralling in an alleyway. one time your hand brushed his when you were cutting gillyweed. the touch of the hand lit the fuse of a chain reaction of countermoves.

he first saw you this way when you were in charms class. professor flitwick was praising you because you managed to do a quite tricky spell.

his eyes perked up the moment professor flitwick said your name. he usually was the best in charms, but you were beating him and he isn't enjoying it. when he looked at your flushed face, there was no anger or jealousy anymore. he almost adored the way you smiled timidly at the professor.

he shook his head rapidly, scoffing at himself.

"what mate?" sirius stared at him with side eyes.

"nothing," remus replied

"are you sad that you're not the best in charms anymore?" sirius laughed, hitting remus side.

"shut up no," he said.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you were friends with james since fourth year because he thought you were a way to get lily to like him, but after being friends for a while, you actually grew on him and now you're actually friends with james, not because his needs for lily, but for you.

remus finds himself staring at you during classes you had together, rolling his eyes when you were laughing with mary.

and by the way, he hates your laugh so much because it sounded like an angel's harp to him. it's horrible how pretty your voice is.

"moony, you've been staring at the girl for a while now," sirius said in a sing-song voice.

"i'm not! she's just terrible. that ghastly pearls around her neck and ears is stupid. and those bows she never took off of her head is horrendous," remus huffed, flipping his book rather harshly.

deep down he loved it. he loved your style and how perfect you are in them. he just hated his feelings. he knows you will never reciprocate him and maybe by getting you to hate him can make it easier. so he knows that you will never like him.

"hey, watch your mouth! she's my friend y'know," james scoffed at remus, throwing a paper ball at him.

"no i'm just saying-"

"you're never this mean to anyone..." james raised an eyebrow at the boy. it's true, remus lupin is always nice. he doesn't hate anyone, he's not able to. "she's a big softie on the inside. you just got to warm up."

if i warm up, i will fall in love

remus ignored him, feeling his stomach grumbling.

dinner was then ready. every students were in the great hall except you. you were somewhere in the castle ground playing with the nifflers the caretaker just got.

remus noticed. there isn't any white or black or baby pink or blue ribbon in a person's head in the great hall. he finds himself furrowing his brows, not eating the food from his plate.

and then the door opened, you walking in with your hair messy from the wind. remus thought you look unbearably adorable. and he hated it.

"hi james," you said before taking the empty seat between mary and james. "hi," you smiled at the other three marauders.

everyone greeted you back except remus, who was sitting in front of james. he was pursing his lips, eyeing you weirdly.

james kicked his legs from under the table, making remus winced in pain.

you didn't know how it started but somehow, you were now staring at remus and remus was staring at you. millions of thoughts swimming inside your minds.

he looked very good under the candlelight.

why is her hair so beautiful?

his chocolate eyes are like a comet in the sky

her eyes are like a glimmer of sunshine

the freckles in his cheeks are pretty

she must be god's favourite because she is the best of all his creations

"are you two having a staring contest?" james looked between you and remus.

"no," remus replied before scoffing and rolled his eyes at you.

you felt yourself sinking in your seat. a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate, toying with the food.

remus felt guilty for making you feel this way. he wished to wipe your frown away. a part of him adored the way your eyebrows crinkled together, it was cute. but also he is one step closer for you to hate him.

when you averted you attention to mary, making a conversation with her, james kicked remus' shin, glaring at him.

"what were you doing?" james whisper-yelled. "stop being so mean to her!"

"ok," remus replied nonchalantly, brushing james' feet away.

"i think remus is in love with her," sirius said, maybe a bit too loud for remus' liking but not loud enough because you're still focused on mary.

"how's that possible?" remus huffed.

"well- for starters, did you see how moony looked at her earlier? it's the way when two or one people is in love with the other. i'm not playing around!" sirius raised his arms in defence.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"i don't think remus lupin likes me," you said to lily that night. you knew lily and remus are study buddies and maybe she can tell you why he was acting like that towards you.

"oh trust me he doesn't!" lily said. "remus can never hate anyone- and how can a person hate you? you didn't even do anything wrong."

"he was rolling his eyes and scoffing at me earlier," you frowned, playing with your fingers. you hated how you're overthinking everything you never did.

"he has anger issues," the redhead simply reply. "why do you care so much anyway? i'm sure he likes you. he may come off as rude or mean at some point and that's not your fault!"

"he seemed like a good friend. just disappointed that he doesn't want to be friends with me."

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the marauders were planning their monthly pranks, remus being the mastermind that laid groundwork and then just like clockwork, their plans cascaded in a line.

"let's prank y/n," remus stated, looking at the other marauders.

"what? no!" james refused. he has a soft spot for you, he feels like anything that touches your skin will burn the petal.

"prongs! that'd be funny!" sirius agreed to remus' idea, clapping him on his back.

"are you sure this is a great idea? i mean- she's like- i don't know. not prank worthy?" james continued.

and remus agreed with james too. although it would be funny to prank you, he would never want to hurt you. and what the hell is that? you're supposed to hate him.

"just not anything too much. nothing a tulip can handle," sirius shrugged.

you were heading your way out of the common room, a book about angels clutched tightly on your chest. you were walking silently and a second later, you hear a splash behind your back.

seemed like the marauder has missed their target, resulting a first year to be drenched in green paint.

you whipped your head around, hair flying behind. "oh gosh are you okay?" you kneeled at the little girl.

she was now crying, and you had your suspicions on a certain group of friends for this. the girl shook his head, wiping the green substance off of her face.

you cast a spell, waving your wand in mid air to produce a napkin. "here let me help you," you said softly to the girl as you wiped off the green off of her face.

"thank you," the girl whispered. despite the substance being completely wiped off, it still leaves a stain on her skin. "my ribbon is stained," the girl cried, clutching it with shaky hands.

"that's alright, you can have mine," you reached up for your hair to grab the thin bow off of your hair. "there, you look gorgeous!" you beamed at her after you clipped the bow in her locks.

"people make fun of me for liking ribbons and fairies and angels. i think we like same things."

"listen, don't let people get to you. we're young and still got a long life ahead, being someone you're not is tiring. be who you are and if people don't like it, then be yourself even more so they can suffer," you giggled, patting her shoulders. "go take a shower yeah? the green might go away."

"okay..." she runs off to the distance.

"james!" you huffed. you knew the boys were around somewhere.

"hi darling," sirius appeared as he put his arms around your shoulders.

"you guys were planing to prank me didn't you?" you squinted your eyes at the three.

"yup." remus said, a bit disappointed at the fact that it didn't work.

"why,"

"we are the marauders, darling, that's our job," sirius replied.

"why me? i didn't do anything."

"it would be funny to see you in green since all you wear is white and pink, elphaba" remus scoffed.

"oh you know the wizard of oz? wicked?" you started to get giddy. you've never met someone that knows that muggle series, it was your favourite.

remus, seeing this, feels like his heart was melting at your reaction. you looked adorable and excited. it drives him insane how effortless you can be.

"that's like a children's storybook. you're sixteen," remus, instead, replied.

the smile on your face dropped almost instantly, your heart hurts. you're embarrassed. embarrassed for being so excited about something stupid.

remus felt like he should bury himself under pounds of blankets so he doesn't get to see your sad face. he felt guilty for making you feel stupid. he wanted nothing more than to pull you to his chest and whisper sweet nothings in your ears. he couldn't though.

"i should get going," you forced a smile. "please don't pull pranks on me," you giggled at james before making your way outside the castle.

your book was left behind, remus noticed it. he went to grab the thick heavy book when a shoe blocked him. "let me-"

"what? you're gonna make fun of her for liking angels now? or you're going to burn that whole damn thing down?" james glared at the lycanthrope.

"nope. not any of that. i just want to see," remus fought.

"no," james snatched the book away from him before running to his dorm, tucking it under his bed so remus wouldn't find it. he's planning to give it back to you later.

"i think i missed a chapter here," sirius inquired. "since when is prongs more mature than moony?"

"since y/n i fear," peter quipped.

"you guys are a bunch of bullocks," remus grumbled.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

it was winter, your favourite time of the year. the scape displayed a beautiful scenery of the wildest winter wonderland.

you, mary, and lily were planning to skate on the ice rink in hogsmeade. coincidentally, the marauders are also skating at the same time.

you spun around the rink, snowflake hitting your lashes and hair. the sight of you were simply mesmerising. remus is in awe. you were like an angel.

your head tilted up, hair flying around with the wind. with the lack of balance you had, you scrambled, almost falling to the ground. lily and mary laughed at your antics, and you laughed too.

remus wanted to hold your hand as you spin around so you don't lose balance. and if you did, you would fall to him.

you were in your own world as you glide around the sparkling ice when you felt a presence beside you.

it was remus.

"hello," you tried to be nice to him, winter is not the season hold grudges. people make mistakes and you forgive them for it.

"do you ever take that ribbon off of your hair, it's ghastly," remus rolled his eyes.

"oh so you only came here to say that to me? well i personally think your sweaters are horrendous. you should try putting them on a washing machine because it looks like it hasn't been washed for months," you scrunched your face, making a disgusted face as you skate away from him.

it hurts. your words sent his heart breaking like icicles. he deserved it though. he had said stuff much more than that to you.

what makes his heart break more is that you never said mean things to people. you're patient and careful with your words and the fact that you snapped at him sent him to another dimension.

"what? you can't skate?" you chuckled at him as he struggled to move. you made your way back to him, helping him stand up after he fell.

he was embarrassed. after all he said and now he's lying cold on the icy ground. a part of him liked the way you were laughing because of him. it makes him feel fuzzy and warm inside but he hated it.

if he wasn't acting mean to you, he was sure he would open the door of his heart so easily. your soft hands grabbed both of his wrist as he tried to stand up.

your touch sent shivers down his spine. you never touched him before, only a little contact of the skin. your hands were like soft petals, opposite of his rough ones.

you helped him skate to where the friends were, effortlessly. "why are you nice to me?" remus said. "i've been nothing but mean to you."

"it's winter- almost christmas! it's the most beautiful season. i wouldn't ruin it by being immature," you shrugged.

"would you stop going so fast," remus squeezed your soft knuckles.

"if i go any slower, you will lose balance!" you said.

oh now you're thinking of his safety

he cursed himself for thinking that way. it was probably nothing. you always think of others.

he hates the way you make his stomach do flips. the swarming butterflies in his body is crazy. almost unreal. he lets go one of your hand and rest them on your shoulder so he can get closer and smell you.

you smelled like strawberry and marshmallows. it was sweet and so you. he would inhale your scent everyday and won't get sick of it.

"oh now moony and y/n is looking very cosy," sirius perked.

remus, hearing this pushed you away from him, making you fell to the ground with a thud.

and god he felt so guilty. he was sorry. he couldn't bring himself to say it though. his original plan was to make you hate him but it's quite literally impossible.

you were so lovely and he's such an idiot.

"ow," you whimpered as your back hit the ground. remus whipped his head around, eyes widening in panic as you tried to massage your elbows.

"oh god i'm sorry! i didn't mean to-" remus rambled as he grabbed your left arm, fingers grazing the fabric over your skin tenderly.

he felt horrible. he is so stupid for everything. he considered himself as a nice person but he was anything but.

"remus," you spoke, looking at him dead in the eyes. you were crying. "would you mind not touching me?," he frowned, his eyes were watery. he looked like he was about to cry. "i don't think i'm comfortable," he pulled away immediately. "thanks for understanding."

you stand up, wiping the tears from your face and went away to catch up on mary and lily.

remus sat still on the ground, unable to move as he watched you away.

"what was that?" james shouted. "you're an asshole you know that. she has been so patient with you! remus lupin, i'm not going to deal with this." james scurried away, scoffing at him with the nastiest look he can manage to show.

"mate, what just happened?" sirius spoke, a weird expression on his face.

"i'm in love with her," remus cried.

"would you care to elaborate? i'm lost right now," sirius replied timidly at his friend.

"i'm in love with y/n. i'm only being mean to her so i can hide my feelings. i'm so stupid. i'm tired of myself. just leave me alone!" remus yelled, his tears run cold.

"y'know it'd be easier for the two of you if you don't hide those feelings and actually be friends with her?"

"you don't understand! she would never like me. not anymore after what i had done. not ever. not even before. i'm a werewolf!"

"oh the books missed the part of werewolves being really dumb. moony-." sirius tried to speak but he was cut off.

"leave me alone!" remus snapped, trying to stand up unsuccessfully.

"fine!" sirius said, reaching up to where james and peter were.

remus watched you from afar, hands in your pocket as you looked down at your pink roller skate with ribbons as the laces. you looked so beautiful, and angelic, like a fairy.

you caught him staring at you with an expression like a broken vase. you paid him no mind as you skate around even more, scaring mary from the back which made the poor girl fell down.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you didn't try to talk to him the next day. and the day after and the day after. he wasn't being mean to you anymore. he's giving you space.

you don't sit next to james anymore during breakfast lunch and dinner. you sat on the furthest seat of the gryffindor table. he couldn't even look at your face anymore. heads of strangers blocking his view.

the other three noticed the shift in him. he doesn't talk as much anymore. although he is quiet, he's never this quiet. he doesn't want to be involved in pranks lately, he'd much rather read your angel book he found tucked under james' bed under his sheets.

he hated himself. hated the fact that he didn't make you hate him but made you hurt. flashes of you crying on the ice rink haunts him. he would never look at the snow the same ever again.

every time the snow fell from the sky, memories of you rushed back into his mind. his heart aches, his mind is his biggest enemy, the full moon is his biggest vendetta.

the next time he saw you was when you were sitting under a tree, flowers around you. it was like as if nature was your best friend. you look incredibly dazzling under the sun. it was cold. you wore your fluffy jacket along with some matching leg warmer.

he wanted to make things right with you. he wanted to apologise for what he had done. although there is a slim chance you would forgive him.

his palms were sweaty despite the freezing weather. his heart was beating rapidly under his coat. he mustered up the courage to talk to you after weeks. now that you're only meters away from him, he wished he can just sink down on the soil. being under there forever.

"hey," remus said shakily. you looked up at him, eyes a little puffy, you had been crying.

you didn't reply though. he didn't blame you. "you're not wearing a ribbon..."

"trying something new," you replied, rather coldly.

"i'm sorry. i hope you know that i didn't mean for this to happen. never," he spoke softly. ripping the grass under.

"okay," you nodded, and averted your focus to your book.

"i don't know why you hate me so much. what did i do?" you said sadly, after a while long of silence.

remus took a deep shaky breath, "i never hated you. i didn't want any of this to happen. this is so stupid and i don't even want to say it but i just thought by making you hate me, i can push my feelings for you aside. so that i dont have to hope for impossible things and face reality that you can never love me back. i know you cant."

"why not?"

"after what i've done to you? i doubt," remus huffed at himself.

"no i mean- before that. must be something right? you're a good person."

"how can you say that? you don't know what you're talking about," remus said.

"james and sirius and peter wouldn't be your friend for six years if you're a bad person," you shrugged.

remus felt himself blushing, heart warm and fuzzy just like your jacket. "they're crazy," he shook his head.

"you haven't answered why though?"

remus gulped. his throat went dry. "uh-" he cleared his throat trying to collect himself.

"if it's personal you don't have to tell me," you smiled a lip tight smile.

"i'm a werewolf," he blurted. his lungs were knocked out of his body by now. it's crazy how he can let you in so easily. he is a closed book at all costs but he would tear every pages of himself and give it to you without questions.

"for real?" you asked, eyes widening in awe.

"yeah, that's why i was mean to you. nobody can lo- uh like a monster like me. who am i to think that by some miracle you would reciprocate my feelings," remus eyes glisten.

"don't say that about yourself," you furrowed your brows. "i don't think anyone is a monster. it's just the books that says so."

"stop trying to make me feel better after what i had done to you. you deserve so much better than this- i-"

"i love magical creatures," you smiled.

"huh?"

"and werewolves are magical creatures!" you said.

"no, y/n, you love fairies, angels, pegasus, pixies, and things like that. not werewolves," he fought, breaking his own heart.

"no i don't. i love all kinds," you replied, smiling at him.

"no, you don't love me. you can't!" he felt tears streaming down his face like the biggest waterfall there ever was.

"i can love you. maybe i don't love you now but you deserved to be loved. and i know i can do that," you said.

"y/n, at least punch me in the face with a tree trunk first. i don't deserve this," remus spoke, wiping his tears away.

how can someone be so lovely and forgiving at the same time? it was unfair because the world is absolutely horrible for people like you. him for example, he's horrible.

you didn't punch him, you hugged him instead.

he couldn't breath the first seconds. the smell of strawberries and marshmallows were filling his nose, he could melt.

he gently wrapped his arms around your frame, careful with his movements because you were like the most expensive porcelain doll from the southern quadrant. if he was in the magical land of oz, you would definitely be from the quadling country.

"and by the way, i love your ribbons. you look pretty in them- i mean you're always beautiful. do you have any ribbons by chance right now?" remus mumbled, brushing your hair from your face gently.

"i do, i have two in my bag," you replied.

"can i see them?"

"of course," you said as you pulled two baby blue ribbons from your bag.

he took them from you, holding it like it's made of glass. he clipped one on your hair and one on his, which made you laugh.

"pretty," he smiled.

"remus- you look-"

"i look like you!" he cut you off.

"okay..." you chuckled.

oh he loved that sound so much. it's terrifying how much he loved it.

"i love your sweaters too," you whispered shyly.

"i have one extra in my bag, let me put it on you," he said, pulling a sweater from his bag and his eyes landed on your angel book he secretly brings around everywhere.

"do you always have an extra one in your bag?"

"no," he shook his head, embarrassed. "it's just- uh-" he struggled to find the right words, his cheeks flushing under your soft gaze.

his stomach was filled with swarming angel wings, mind filled with the thought of you. "let me put it on you. so we wear each other's stuff." he cringed at how cheesy it sounded but smiled when he sees your pink tinted cheeks.

the sweater fits on you a bit too big. it was a white knitted sweater, "i love it, thanks."

"you can keep it. i knew you'd like it," he said.

it smelled like him, looks like his usual musky green sweaters too- just a different colour this time.

"oh and by the way, here's your book," he pushed your book to you.

"i've been looking for this! where did you find it?" you asked him giddily.

god you are so adorable when you're excited. he's so smitten.

he scratched the back of his neck, "you left it in the floor the day we pranked you. i'm sorry about that. james found it and put it on his bed, hoping to give it back to you the next day but i found it and i kept it. i want to be the one that gives it back to you. um sorry it took this long-" he rambled. it was bewildering how easy it is for him to open up to you. narrating the story for you to hear.

"oh thank you!" you started to open the book. "i haven't read this yet."

"you're like a cherubim angel," he said, resting his chin on you shoulder from the back so he can see the book with you.

"what's that?"

"it's in the book," he replied, "and uh is this okay?"

"what's okay?"

"me being close to you," he pulled back a little wanting to make sure that you are comfortable.

"oh- it's fine!" you giggled. "you're warm, i'm very comfy."

remus hid his face in your shoulders, hiding his crimson cheeks.

"wait- you said something about cherubim in this book. does that mean you've read it?" you pointed at the book in your lap.

"uh yeah- can't help it," he said, flushing once more. the effect you on him were crazy. "do you want to read it together?"

"sure," you opened the first chapter.

"read it out loud, i love hearing your lovely voice," he spoke.

"oh what? no-" you have never read aloud before. nobody has ever asked you for it.

"i want to hear your voice," he mumbled.

so you started.

it was like heaven to him. your scent covering his nose while you voice filling his ears. he must be dreaming because no way is he breathing.

he interlocked his finger with your softer ones, wanting to never let go. your hair was brushing his neck as the wind hits it.

he felt like he's in a new world where there's only you.

you and your pretty ribbons on your hair; that beautiful smile; that lovely voice; your enchanting smell; you soft fingers; your back pressed against his chest. it was indescribable. he couldn't ask for anything better.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

you two were hanging on the couch the next few days, james and sirius still not noticing the way you two are behaving. james was still mad at remus, so he barely knew what he is up to these days.

it was at night, the snow patting the window, glistened as it fell.

he remembered that day all too well. he still felt guilty for it.

but all negativity were pushed aside when he felt you shifting beside him.

you noticed the look on his face. "hey, don't worry about it. everything's fine," you stroked his fingers.

"okay," he replied. he has been mustering up the courage to ask you to be your boyfriend. he wanted to do it today. he feels like right now is the perfect time.

"hey, angel," he turned slowly to you, swallowing hard. "i would really really really love to be your boyfriend. if you're ready for this of course. i don't want to push things."

you blinked at him, eyelashes hitting your lid. "rem, i'd love that," you blushed.

"yeah?"

"mhm."

"okay," he said. "i really want to kiss you right now."

your heart skipped a beat at his words, "you can y'know."

"yea.." he whispered before leaning forward, nose inches away from each other. he can feel your unsteady breath, he put an arm around you to ease you up before his lips were pressing against your own.

you soft lips felt even softer when it touches his. it sent him in to a love spiral. kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats undercoats.

you were so sweet. tastes like sweet candy drops.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the next following day, you were sitting on the great hall right next to remus. it was questionable to the other because you and him were never spotted this close.

"do you want pumpkin juice?" he asked, pointing to the goblet.

"um tea please, no sugar," you replied, squeezing his fingers.

"oh of course no sugar. you're already sweet," he shook his head as he poured the tea in your cup.

james eyed him suspiciously, "i missed a chapter," he mumbled.

"don't know what you're talking about," remus simply replied. what sent the others even more shock is the way he kissed your temple so tenderly.

"oh we are dating," you blushed as you poked your blueberry pie.

"what?" james asked wide eyed.

"i knew it!" sirius cheered, almost knocking his cup. "he told me he was in love with her. i was right all along, of course i am," he threw his hair back.

"stop it," remus hissed.

and the others also notice the change since he's with you.

he now takes care of himself, starting from little things. he's always been a gentleman but never this gentle since you.

ribbons and sweaters are the things that brought you two together.

[be-missed]

Not Strong Enough (Chap 1)

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(Pictures not mine)

Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.

Warning: Probably mentions of kniv3s and blad3s or any surgical equipment. A few curse words as of now.

A/N: So plan on making a series, I don't know how long this will take and I don't want to say any promises. Hope you enjoy the story!

Masterlist

_________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

"Mom said I should drop by the hospital and bring the pizza she ordered earlier." Jenna yelled to her family while going down their front door.

"Okay sweetheart, you take care and kiss your mother for me" her dad said while blowing Jenna a kiss.

Starting the car and connecting her bluetooth, now she is ready to drive. As the traffic lights hit red, she remembered that one of her friend recommended her a song to listen to, and she played it as the light turn to green.

Humming to the addicting beat of the song, she now try to find an empty parking lot at the hospital, which is a difficult task to do by the way, a heavy amount of people comes and goes, and some that probably stayed.

Jenna almost passed a white civic that left the spot as she sigh, now this is the hardest part, harder than finding a parking lot, is to park the car itself, she is having a hard time since she is used to her mom beside her and helping her to look at the back. But she needs to be a big girl now and do this.

A minute or so have passed and Jenna congratulated herself by parking her car so good that it follows the line and got the sides an equal space. She picks her phone up and messaged her mom that she's going up to her.

While walking through the lobby of the hospital, she noticed that some people are occupied to not notice her which she is thankful since she doesn't want to have a crowd and some people looked at her and she smiled politely at them. Reaching the elevator, she pressed the close button so fast so that nobody can be with her inside it.

Humming with the elevator music, floors passes by and the doors open with a ding, walking through the same designed hallway makes her remember that scene from her old movie scream. As she reached the reception like part of the floor, she smiled brightly and tried to ask one of the nurse that was standing beside the desk.

"Uhm hey, excuse me.." Jenna started but got cut-off when the nurse got called in the surgery room for extra hands, so what she did next is to ring the table bell to attract some attention that she needs to find her mom.

"Hello, how can I help you?" a woman appeared from the back room with the brightest smile she could ever see.

Stagnant. Freeze. Stop. Pause.

That was what Jenna like for a second, and the person standing opposite to her started to panic "Hey, are you okay? Do you need water?" Y/N stated.

"Oh.. I... I need my mom." Jenna stated while trying to compose herself "Uhm, no, I mean... Yes, yes I need my mom."

The woman in front of her gives her a questionable look... "Miss I don't know who your mom is, may I know her name so I can help you find her?" Y/N stated.

Well, Y/N knows, she definitely knows who is this girl in front of her, holding 3 large pizza boxes, this woman who is slightly smaller than her, has this wonderful freckles that painted her face, who have this deep dimple on her cheek, a wavy black hair and this cute bangs. Oh, definitely she is familiar with the woman in front of her.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm here for Natalie Ortega, she works here." Jenna stated while smiling. Damn it, did she really just froze there and told this beautiful lady that she needs her mom. She noted to herself that she needs to practice on how to stay cool and not to lose her rizz when she faces a beautiful women.

"Nat? Your mom is Natalie" The woman in front of her looks like a light bulb appeared above her head "I think she's inside the surgery helping Dr. Ava, but let me go to the surgery room, I let her know that you are here." Y/N stated while going to the other side of the desk where Jenna is.

"Oh, you don't need to, I can just wait for her." Jenna said while trying to hold the 3 large pizza boxes.

Y/N shakes her head and said "It's okay, I need to actually do something, I've been sitting there for so long my feet might forget how to walk if I didn't stand." with a little laugh at the end. She know think "Nice what a lame joke."

"Well, thank you, these pizza boxes is getting heavier" Jenna said and Y/N helped her to put it on top of the desk.

Fingers brushed, eyes locked, and lips started to curl.

"Well uhm... may I know your name?" Y/N asked the girl in front of her.

Then Jenna thinks "wow this pretty girl is so into me, she wants to know my freaking name." Jenna was so proud of herself she accidentally said "Why? So you could add me to the blank space on your list?" with a slight wiggle of her brows and a little smirk.

Y/N looked at Jenna and was stunned with what the girl said, Y/N thinks "did she just flirt with me? I mean, can it be? Or am I just delusional?" Y/N composes herself and replied "Well, I need to know your name since I need to tell her that her daughter is here, right?"

"Ground, swallow me please oh please" with that reply Jenna just wants to be swallowed by the ground where she stood way down below where her parked car is. SHE THOUGHT WRONG.

Jenna tried to just laugh it off and answered "I'm Jenna, Jenna Ortega" and offers her hand.

"I'm Dr. Y/L/N, I'm a resident surgeon here. So you can seat by the waiting area and I'll go to your mom and tell her that her daughter needs her." Y/N said and winked at Jenna and started to walk to to the surgery room.

Jenna walked to the row of chairs and started to cringe at herself from the inside. She fished out her phone and texted Aliyah:

To Aliyah:

I met this cute doctor and my mind just went blank. WTF!

Fr Aliyah:

Well having no love life really has a side effect, lol.

To Aliyah:

You know what, you are not helping at all, BYE!

Fr Aliyah:

WELL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REACT?

To Aliyah:

IDK maybe comfort me? I'm your sister after all.

Fr Aliyah:

Just deliver the damn pizza and go home so you can tell me all

To Aliyah:

I will, when mom gets out, bye, love you.

Fr Aliyah:

Love you too, stay safe!

Jenna turns her phone off and was surprised with Y/N standing in front of her.

"What the hell, you could have given me a heart attack." Jenna said while holding her chest.

"That's good, you are in a hospital, in front of you is a doctor, we are surrounded by our lovely nurses, you will live if ever that happened" and Y/N gave her a cheeky smile.

"Geez thanks doc" Jenna answered sarcastically with a smile "Where is my mom then?"

"Well your mom said she can't go out of the surgery room and told me to help you instead to bring the pizza boxes in the break room since you need a keycard to go in there." Y/N replied while showing her I.D.

Jenna nod and said "Lead the way then." and smiled.

While walking, Y/N is now holding the pizza boxes while Jenna strolled along beside her.

"Why did you not get my attention earlier when I was sitting and you were standing in front of me?" Jenna asked.

"You were smiling, and I thought may be you are talking to your boyfriend so I waited until you turn off your phone. I don't want to interrupt you know." Y/N answered.

Even if it is hard for her to think that Jenna have a boyfriend, she doesn't have the say when it comes to it.

"Okay. Then why is this the first time that I see you here? You said you were a resident yet I haven't seen you in my past visits?" Jenna asked, again.

Y/N replied "It's my third month here and maybe you just don't visit during my work time that's why we don't see each other."

Jenna nodded and accepted it as a valid reply.

Y/N opened taps her I.D and opened the door for Jenna to come in first "Here is the break room, and thank you for the pizza, I have been craving these for days, thank God Nat bought it for us."

"So, you and my mom are close huh?" Jenna asked again, which Y/N noticed.

"Well yes, she is approachable, sweet, and kind so, what's not to like about your mom." Y/N said with a smirk.

"Woah there, do you like my mom, just to inform you my dad and her is in a healthy relationship and we are a happy family." Jenna answered a bit annoyed. BECAUSE, why would you like her mom if she is literally in front of you. HELLO?! ARE YOU BLIND!?

"Hey, I didn't tell that I like your mom, I'm sorry if that's how you interpret it, she just makes me feel welcomed, okay? And your mom is pretty, but I like someone, yeah?" Y/N replied but inside her head, its is all "IT IS YOU, YOU DUMBASS, I LIKE YOU NOT YOUR MOM."

"Okay, I'm sorry too, I just get defensive when it comes to my family." Jenna smiled .

"Well if that is all that you need, then we finished our task. I also need to go back there, I have a surgery in 30 minutes." Y/N said with a sad smile.

"Sure, I'm sorry for holding you off." Jenna said while they go out of the room.

Walking back, Y/N didn't stopped by the reception and accompanied Jenna to the elevator.

Y/N broke the silence and took Jenna's arm which she was surprised while Y/N scribbled on her skin.

The elevator dinged which indicated that Jenna needs to go.

"See you around Jen!" Y/N stated while she rushed off.

Jenna was so baffled with the action and just waved, as the elevator door close, she lifts her long sleeves and saw a note

"My number, just in case you have more questions."

In Jenna's head "DID SHE JUST GAVE ME HER NUMBER?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" and smiled to herself.

She is now determined to go to the hospital more to visit her mom and a side quest to see you.

______________________________________________________________

Chap 2 A/N: Well I think that was a long one. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed the story and hope you wait for the next chapters!

[peachy-princess777]

can i request a rafe cameron x reader where they're basically best friends but they don't act like it and topper and kelce always tease them abt it. one day, rafe got into a fight and reader gets so worried and patches him up and thats when rafe realizes that he's actually in love with her because he never shows this much affection and acts so soft only towards her and he basically starts going feral cause he hates the idea of him being in love so he pushes reader away and it all ends up with him confessing his love to her and plss make it a bit angstyyyy pls, thanks love 🩷🫂

Yes yes yesssss

I'm not sure if this is angsty enough because I, personally,don't really like how it turned out but I didn't know what else to write to make it better HOPEFULLY you like it.. bottoms up🥸

In the dimly lit garage, the smell of grease and gasoline was a familiar embrace for Rafe Cameron. He had spent countless hours here, his hands stained with oil, elbow-deep in the guts of a car that had more stories than the town library. His eyes focused on the engine in front of him, he barely noticed the soft hum of the radio playing a classic rock song. The world outside could be chaos, but in here, it was just him and the steel beasts that whispered their secrets to him.

Y/N, his best friend since childhood, walked in, her sneakers squeaking against the concrete floor. She held a first-aid kit tightly to her chest, a look of concern etched on her face. "Rafe, you okay?" she called out, her voice cutting through the solitude.

Rafe looked up, his eyes bloodshot from the dust and his jaw tight from the fight. He nodded curtly, not quite meeting her gaze. "It's nothing," he said, wiping a trickle of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand.

Y/N approached him, setting the first-aid kit on the workbench. She studied his bruised face, her thumb brushing against his jawline gently. "You've got a nasty cut here," she murmured, her voice soothing despite the tension in the air. "Let me clean it up."

Rafe flinched at her touch, not used to such tenderness from her. The fight had left him raw, both physically and emotionally. He'd been trying to play it cool, but the pain in his chest was unmistakable. "I can do it," he said gruffly, reaching for the kit.

But Y/N was insistent. She took his hand in hers, her grip surprisingly firm. "Sit down," she ordered gently, guiding him to a stool. "You're in no condition to be patching yourself up." Her eyes searched his, a question lingering unspoken. Rafe sat, feeling a strange mix of annoyance and comfort.

With careful precision, she cleaned the wound, the sting of antiseptic bringing him back to reality. He watched her, noticing the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the gentle way she dabbed at his skin. It was a stark contrast to the fiery spirit he'd seen in her so many times before. For a moment, he felt something shift within him, something warm and terrifying.

Their friends, Topper and Kelce, stumbled in, laughter echoing off the garage walls. They'd been out celebrating their victory at the local dive bar, and the smell of cheap beer and sweat trailed them like a fog. "Looks like someone's been playing a little too rough," Topper said, his grin wide and teasing. Kelce elbowed him in the ribs. "Leave the lovebirds alone."

Y/N's cheeks flushed at their banter, and she tried to play it off with a laugh, but the weight of their words hit Rafe like a sledgehammer. He'd never allowed himself to be this vulnerable with anyone, especially not Y/N. The thought of them being seen as a couple made his stomach twist into knots. He jerked his hand away from hers, the sudden movement causing her to drop the cotton swab.

"I said I can handle it," he snapped, his voice echoing in the garage. The music on the radio seemed to fade into the background as the tension grew palpable.

Y/N took a step back, her eyes wide. "I'm just trying to help," she said softly, picking up the dropped swab.

Rafe knew he was being an ass, but he couldn't stop the anger that bubbled up inside him. "I don't need your help," he said, grabbing the first-aid kit. His hands trembled as he clumsily applied a bandage to his own wound, the pain a welcome distraction from the emotional turmoil.

Topper and Kelce exchanged glances, the teasing smiles wiped from their faces. They'd never seen Rafe like this before—so volatile, so...vulnerable. They knew better than to push it. With a shrug, Topper clapped Rafe on the shoulder. "Alright, man. If you're good, we're gonna head out." Kelce nodded in agreement, and the two of them left the garage, the door slamming shut behind them.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words. Y/N stared at the closed door, her heart racing. She felt like she'd been slapped in the face, the sting of rejection burning like the antiseptic she'd just applied to Rafe's wound. She took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. "Fine," she said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her chest. "I'll leave you to it."

Rafe watched her retreating back, his own heart pounding like a wild animal trapped in a cage. He hated the way she looked at him, like he was something breakable, something she had to handle with care. It made him feel weak, and weakness was not a luxury he could afford. Not here, not in Outer Banks, where the only law was survival of the fittest.

He turned back to the engine, his hands moving mechanically as he tried to ignore the ache in his chest. The fight had been just another Tuesday night, a bar brawl over a drunken comment about his family's past. But Y/N's touch had changed everything. It had stirred feelings he'd buried deep, feelings he didn't know how to deal with.

As the night wore on, Rafe found himself unable to shake the encounter. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her worried gaze, felt the softness of her skin against his. It was infuriating. He'd never been the type to get tangled up in emotions—his life was about keeping it simple, about not letting anyone get too close. But Y/N had been there for him since they were kids, and she'd always had a way of sneaking under his armor.

For the next few days, Rafe avoided Y/N like the plague. He took on extra shifts at the garage, working until his hands were raw and his eyes burned with exhaustion. He picked fights with anyone who so much as looked at him sideways, channeling his confusion and fear into his fists. The bruises on his knuckles were a stark reminder of the tumultuous storm brewing inside him.

Y/N noticed the change immediately. She'd catch glimpses of him from afar, his broad shoulders hunched as he worked on cars, his eyes dark and distant. The playful banter between them had gone silent, replaced by terse nods and curt responses. It was as if the moment of tenderness in the garage had never happened.

Her heart ached for him, but she knew better than to push. Rafe had always been a closed book, and she respected his need for space. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd done something wrong, that she'd overstepped some invisible line. She found herself lost in thought, replaying the scene over and over again in her mind, trying to pinpoint the moment when everything had changed.

Rafe's demeanor grew more and more distant as the days dragged on. He'd always been a man of few words, but now his silence was deafening. He'd come home from work, his eyes glazed over, and slump onto the couch without a word. The TV droned on in the background, but he never seemed to watch it, lost in his own world of turmoil.

Y/N tried to give him space, but it was like walking on eggshells. Every time she offered a gentle greeting or a casual question, he'd respond with a grunt or a one-word answer. It was as if she was invisible, and it was breaking her heart. She'd never seen Rafe like this—so lost, so...defeated.

One evening, after a particularly long day at the garage, she couldn't take it anymore. The house was quiet, the only sound the hum of the fridge. She found Rafe sitting at the kitchen table, staring into a half-empty bottle of whiskey. The sight of him like this, so abroken, filled her with a determination she hadn't felt in days.

With a deep breath, she approached him, her hand shaking slightly as she placed her palm on his shoulder. "Rafe," she said softly, "we need to talk."

He flinched at her touch, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. For a moment, she saw a flicker of something—pain, fear, longing?—before his usual stoic mask slammed back into place. "There's nothing to talk about," he said, his voice cold and dismissive.

Y/N gritted her teeth, refusing to let him push her away again. "You've been acting like a jerk since the night of the fight," she said, her voice steady. "What's going on with you?"

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his grip on the whiskey bottle tightening. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N rolled her eyes, her frustration boiling over. "You've been pushing me away, ignoring me, acting like I'm some kind of...some kind of burden," she spat out. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Rafe shot to his feet, the chair scraping against the floor. "You didn't do anything," he roared, slamming his fist on the table. The bottle wobbled but didn't fall. "You're not the problem, Y/N. I am."

Her eyes widened, and she took a step back, unsure of what to say. Rafe never talked about his feelings, never let anyone in that deep. But she could see the torment in his eyes, the desperation in his clenched fists. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I mean that I don't know how to deal with this," he said, gesturing wildly between them. "With...this." His voice was thick with emotion, the words catching in his throat like a noose tightening.

Y/N's heart raced as she tried to piece together what he was saying. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Rafe took a step towards her, his eyes blazing with something she'd never seen before. "I'm talking about the fact that every time I look at you, all I can think about is how much I want to...to kiss you, to hold you, to tell you how much you mean to me!" His voice grew louder with each word, the whiskey sloshing in the bottle he still gripped in his hand.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. This was not what she'd expected. "Rafe," she began, but he cut her off.

"And then what?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger. "You're going to tell me you don't feel the same? That I'm just some dumb, lovesick fool?"

Y/N stared at him, her eyes wide. She'd always known there was more to Rafe than he let on, but this raw vulnerability was something she'd never seen before. It was like looking at a feral animal that had been caged for too long—part of her wanted to run, but another part was drawn to the pain she saw in his eyes. "Rafe," she said carefully, "you're not a fool."

He took another step closer, his chest heaving. "Then why can't you just leave it?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Why do you have to keep pushing?"

Y/N swallowed hard, her hand rising to rest on his chest. She could feel the rapid thump of his heart beneath her palm. "Because, Rafe," she said, her voice barely audible, "I'm in love with you too

."

The words hung in the air like a confession in a silent church, resonating through the garage and echoing in the quiet night outside. Rafe's eyes searched hers, disbelief and hope warring within him. He'd never expected this, never allowed himself to imagine it. His heart raced like a wild horse, straining against the reins of his control.

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to respond, but all he could do was stand there, frozen. The whiskey bottle slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor, the sound a metaphor for the walls he'd built around his heart. The alcohol pooled around their feet, a symbol of the chaos that had just been unleashed.

Rafe stared at her, his chest tightening. The room spun around him, the smell of gasoline and grease mixing with the faint scent of her perfume—a sweet, flowery scent that had haunted his dreams for so long. He didn't know how to react, didn't know what to do with the love she'd just laid bare in front of him. It was too much, too overwhelming.

But Y/N didn't back down. She stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his. "I've been in love with you for ages," she said, her voice steady. "I just didn't know how to tell you without breaking us apart."

Rafe's chest felt like it was being crushed under the weight of his emotions. He wanted to believe her, to let himself feel the warmth of her love, but fear held him back. "What if it's not real?" he choked out. "What if it's just...just because you've known me so long?"

Y/N's hand moved up to cradle his cheek, her thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "It's real," she whispered. "I know you're scared, but I'm not going anywhere."

Rafe's eyes searched hers, desperation and doubt warring within him. He'd spent his whole life pushing people away, afraid to get too close, afraid to get hurt. But Y/N had always been there, a constant in the ever-changing landscape of his life. Her love was the one thing he hadn't expected, and the one thing he didn't know how to reject.

"Rafe," she said, her voice a gentle caress, "I'm not asking you to change who you are. I just want you to know that I'm here, that I see you. All of you."

Rafe's breath hitched, the warmth of her hand seeping into his skin. The fight, the whiskey, the weight of his unspoken feelings—it all crashed down on him like a wave. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as he took a shaky breath. "What if I don't know how to love you?" he admitted, the words leaving his mouth like a confession.

Y/N's thumb traced his jawline, her eyes never leaving his. "You already do," she said softly. "You just need to let yourself feel it."

Rafe closed his eyes again for a second before opening them up again, looking into the depths of hers. He could see the truth in her words, feel it in the way her hand trembled against his skin. He didn't know how to navigate this new terrain of emotions, but the thought of losing her was suddenly unbearable. He leaned into her touch, his body yearning for the comfort she offered.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Okay." It was all he could manage, but it was enough. Y/N's smile was like the sun breaking through a storm, lighting up the room.

They stood there for a moment, the tension in the air thick enough to slice with a knife. Rafe's heart hammered against his ribs as he felt Y/N's hand slip away from his cheek. He reached out, his own hand trembling, and took hers in his. Her skin was soft, a stark contrast to the calloused roughness of his own. For a brief moment, he felt like he could conquer the world.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to push you away."

Y/N squeezed his hand, the warmth of her touch grounding him. "It's okay," she said, her voice gentle. "I just want to be here for you."

Rafe's eyes searched hers, finding comfort in the familiar pools of kindness. He'd never let anyone in this deep before, but with Y/N, it felt...right. "I don't know how to do this," he confessed, his voice thick with vulnerability.

Y/N stepped closer, her free hand resting on his chest, right over his racing heart. "You don't have to," she assured him. "We'll figure it out..together."

[bunnyteetharry]

Baby, I love you

summary: what was supposed to be a bachelorette party turned into y/n dancing her heart out and catching someone’s eye

warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption

pairing: stranger!arry x stranger! reader {+ to lovers}

inspired by baby, i love you by ramones

————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆

It was an eventful late night in Italy

You were here on a bachelorette trip for your friend, Dulce. After dinner, you wondered around town for bit and since it was starting to get chilly out, Lydia brought up the thought of hitting up a bar

You huddled up together as you walked into the cramp room. Everyone was laughing their heads off, taking shot after shots, living life.

“I’m gonna get us some starter drinks, grab us a table” you called out before scarring towards the bar, trying to maneuver in a crowded area is always the worst, but hey, you’re almost halfway there and as long as you don’t bump into anyone you’ll be fine

“Woah!” and there you go

“Oh! I’m so sorry” you smiled hoping the person you ran over wasn’t about to get upset , you’d be surprised, even when it’s an accident, people act like you just told them to hit the road

“You’re okay love, go ahead” the tall curly headed man motioned you in front of him so you could order first. “Thank you” you screamed over the loud music

After getting the drinks ringed up, you checked behind you to see if that green eyed man who looked like he was created by greek gods was still behind you, sadly disappointment filled up your face when you were just hit with a group of random people laughing

“And here is our savior!” Dulce cheered as she saw you with a tray of shots. With everyone grabbing one each, you raised your’s to the air “To the bride!” everyone rally with you and down their drinks

Meanwhile, a certain man was mind deep with the women he bumped into while grabbing his drink

“Oi mate! You good Harry?” Niall patted his friend’s back, bringing his out of his headspace, Harry tussled his hair before taking a sip of his drink “Yeah I’m good” he smiled. Lucas rolled his eyes and tossed back the rest of his drink “He locked eyes with a pretty bird on his way back here” everyone cooed at Harry and shook his by the shoulders “Oh fuck off” smiling slightly to himself

All his friends were joking around till he heard a familiar toon fill his ears, everyone in the bar looked confused at the song choice, some booing at the DJ. But what really caught his eyes was the girl in the middle of the room dancing on her own.

“That her?” Niall smirked and nudge Harry

‘Woah! Go Y/n!” A group of girls sitting in the corner shouted

Y/n was jumping around, dancing like it was just her alone in the room and as she twirled around, her eyes scattered the room and met Harry’s. She smiled and mouthed back the lyrics to him

“When you kiss me I just gotta, Kiss me I just gotta, Kiss me I just gotta say!” she moved her arms around her body and mindlessly pointed at him “Baby, I love you, come on baby, Baby, I love you, Baby I love, I love only you!” Harry smiled widely as he sipped on his drink, just watching the girl dance around with no care in the world

After the song finished, Harry got up from his seat, with the courage from his friends and two shots in between

Y/n was laughing as she walked back to her friends, taking one more shot before the tray was pulled away from her. “Oh you’ve had enough crazy girl” Lizzy laughed, Y/n rolled her eyes and picked up the water Dulce pushed towards her “I’m fine honestly, anyways we should do this again and-“ her friends cut her off as they pointed behind her

She turned and there he was

“Hi” he smiled down at her and gave her his hand “I’m Harry” y/n pushed back a few fly aways out of her face before smiling back “I’m y/n” her friend’s snickered quietly behind or at least they tried too “Watch them be married four years from now” she turned quickly at the glaring and shushing them before turning back to Harry who is laughing along with them

“Wanna get a drink?” He motioned to the bar across from them “I’d love that” he nodded smiling and laced his hand with her’s, guiding them to the bar stools

Little do they know, her friends were right, the pair came to Italy on their honeymoon to the exact same bar and played the same exact song from when they first met, reminiscing to the days that led them to now

a/n: this was so much fun to write, i hope you enjoy it as well! ALSO request are open

[tremendum]

ok but Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex is so Joel and a younger reader coded.... ugh I just Love Him So Much

wow yes <33 i totally agree with u anon ugh i love that song esp this time of year.... you inspired me! thank u! def recommend listening to this song its so lovely

rating: mature. not nsfw but my blog is 18+ so mdni.       word count: 1.9k  warnings: not much tbh. mentions of alcohol, insecure Joel, soft!Joel <3, unestablished relationship, age gap (Joel is unspecified older), brief mention of Joel accidentally hitting reader in self defense, touch starved joel tbh, reader has a sister thats like it.

masterlist Joel fics: pretty little thing personal lies i've got headaches... Mr. Miller Series fever landmines

Joel hears his name echo as swinging arms plunge down below him, a splash following right after.

a strike of fear pangs through his chest, though he hides it with a glare when Ellie tugs excitedly on his sleeve. "did you see that?" she asks, brows raised. he scowls in response, squinting down to make sure your bobbing body still has all the pieces.

you smile up at him, waving and shouting something that he misses.

his shoes crush over the dust that riddles the crumbling bridge he stands on, the cerulean river calm below. your body is plastered with your wet clothes when, minutes later, you pant up to the two of them with a grin and a cut hand. "the rocks are slippery down there."

Joel stares at you now, jaw clenched slightly at the memory from weeks ago. he'd rolled his eyes then - hadn't spoken to you for the rest of the day, too angry with the recklessness of your leap off the drop, the once-tall cityscape behind you turned to dust by years of turmoil and failed humanity.

and noticing his irritation, for the rest of the day you'd stayed behind him, not trying to speak to him again. instead you whispered with Ellie, sharing secrets like you were high schoolers. when Ellie fell sleep with her head in your lap that night, you'd whispered to him, told him you were sorry. that you hadn't meant to upset him.

he'd pretended to be asleep.

but now, you're the one asleep - body curled slightly, his jacket pulled over you like a blanket as your fist curls around the necklace you'd never taken off. the same one that held a locket your sister had given you - the one you talk about all the time, the one you'd tried to get Joel to try on once.

when you'd tried that, he'd snapped for you to keep your hands away from him. so Ellie had tried it on instead, and you told her it looked very pretty.

guilt seems to find him a lot at night.

your face, illuminated by the moonlight through the grimy windows of the building you'd scouted, is too peaceful, too serene. he has to look away.

something about you settles a very deep melancholy that he cannot understand.

you shift slightly, brows furrowing in that look you get when you're upset or angry or scared - it looks disheartening when you're asleep. he stares with intent, hand on his gun.

he knew you'd wanted to leave before he'd even asked. he'd seen the agony, the confusion, the sadness in your eyes every time he packed up to leave the QZ without you by his side - such a strange reaction from a neighbor.

a neighbor who used to show up every day without fail to try and convince him and Tess to let you in on their jobs. a neighbor who would, instead, wait with a med kit for him to return the next day or the next week.

even in the QZ, he thought of you often.

he'd watch you with your friends, spinning in your own world. it would strike him with a deep longing; the beauty you exude is one that, until meeting you, he'd thought was gone from the world.

you've got music laced in you, in your eyes, your smile, your arms; though you have no reason to. you've lost everything, you keep losing everything, and yet, against all odds, you keep so much life within you that he thinks you may one day burst. something about it hurts his chest.

when he met you, he thought you were naive. a young girl on her own in the Boston QZ, hoping to make extra money smuggling but never being taken seriously.

you never even made it out of the zone until you snuck out after them. Tess had found you first - his heart pangs and he shakes his head, staring at the spot that had bruised on your cheek from when you'd snuck up on them silently and paid for it with the butt of his gun.

and you'd laughed it off, like it was funny. you'd joked about it, teasing him as the purple turned to yellow. all while he stayed awake for nights, staring at the bruise while you slept, his chest heavy and his throat tight.

you've got that piece of life that nobody else has, and he cannot understand it. he doesn't think he ever will.

despite his best efforts, he'd gotten to know you. Tess had liked you. Ellie likes you. he likes you, too. he loves you.

he could tell early on that, for whatever reason, you care about him. now, he wonders if you might even love him too.

he doesn't understand why.

you were well loved back in Boston. he'd seen it - in the hidden basements of bars, the shadows that walked you back to your apartment across from his at night, the same shadows that snuck from your apartments in the morning daybreak.

he'd tried not to stare out the peephole at the frames of lovers you'd taken as they kissed your forehead, hesitating in your doorway before leaving.

he'd seen handfuls of friends wrapped in your arms in the streets, wide smiles and bright cheeks.

there were nights where your friends didn't come around, and you were alone. those were his favorite nights, because you'd invite him over. even when he said no, it still gave him a warm feeling when you'd nod and mutter, next time, then.

you'd been making your own bottles of grain alcohol somehow - you'd invited him to a glass and once he finally took you up on it after months of asking, he'd seen how you'd been hiding them in the hollowed out piano that crumbled in the corner of your tiny apartment.

sitting on the piano bench, you'd told him that you had been in the QZ since you were around Ellie's age - when your sister had left for somewhere in the mountainous West; the two of you had been locked inside this crumbled city forever, she was ready to leave. but you had been scared - too young to travel - and you just couldn't find it in you to say goodbye.

she'd left without you the next day.

that was the night he learned that you played piano, too.

you've still got the music in you, and he doesn't understand why.

he's worried about you.

or maybe, he's worried about himself.

days after you'd jumped from that bridge, the scream of his name from your lips a song of its own, you'd snuck them all across a river.

there had been people tracking you; Joel had kept a tight grip on his shotgun the entire hour, eyes sharp as he'd stared at the woods behind you all, Ellie in the middle, you in front, with your own gun drawn and a stare so strong it'd made his head skip.

you wanted to erase your tracks - but the river current was strong, rising with the snowmelt as you took several steps in. you'd saved them both from the currents and built a strong fire once the threat was cleared and you were miles away.

he'd worried about the curve of your lips, the smile that graced you while he and Ellie were grim and cold. he'd worried about the warmth that your laugh had given his chest.

the fire that night was warm, but you still rolled closer to Joel when you slept. he'd let you. and when he woke up that next morning while you were on watch, he'd found that in his fitful rest, he'd stretched his hand out, towards where you sat. his hand splayed on your calf while your other leg was bent, housing your chin.

you'd just smiled gently down at him when he'd moved his hand quickly, his eyes sheepish. you'd let him.

"Joel?" your voice is very soft. even back in the QZ when he was in bed, your voice would come out and haunt him.

I know you want me.

it takes him a second to register that you've woken up from your sleep and slid up next to him. your thigh is warm where it touches him, but he doesn't dare look down. instead, he sets the gun down, turning to stare at your face.

your eyes are bleary from sleep, your hair tousled. you're so pretty it hurts.

his throat feels dry. "hey." he doesn't mean for his voice to come out that gentle. sometimes, when it's you and him, it just does.

guilt surrounds him as your hand slides over his thigh, burning warm, comfortable. how could something so beautiful exist in such a world? it makes him nervous.

you make him nervous.

"what are you thinking?" you ask. he knows you - knows that's your way of checking on him. you do that, just as he does to you. are you feeling alone?

he shakes his head, "lots of things I shouldn't be." he says honestly, his eyes searching the depths of yours. but you're good to me.. so good to me.

you're not scared of him like you ought to be.

you shrug, "tell me."

he doesn't see the reason to lie anymore; you've been haunting him for too long. and he's been hiding himself from you.

"just don't know why you're with me. with us. here." but he can't bring himself to finish his thoughts - because you, despite it all, loved your life before you left it. because you had lovers, you had friends your age, a life. you were so much safer without me. because you have that music in you, and it's still there despite it all. despite me.

you shift next to him, your cheek falling to his shoulder. he doesn't feel the urge to shake you off like he used to - that feeling melted away months ago, shortly after the desire to put his lips on yours burned in his soul.

"I just think you underestimate how much you mean to me." you say, eyes full of too much light.

he sees that music again; the unrelented spirit in your cheeks when you smile. the laughter that hasn't left you even when you left your old life behind for him and a girl you didn't know. tell me why, tell me why.

he doesn't know what to say, but his head turns gently to place a kiss to the crown of your head.

he nearly feels sick at the implications of such an action, but you just sidle up closer to him, your hand squeezing his thigh gently. he turns to look at you and you move off his shoulder, lifting your own eyes to meet his.

his breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, love and trust in your eyes. the locket glints in his peripheral as he stares down at your glowing, beautiful face.

your lips, my lips.

he intends to kiss your forehead - the way he'd seen all those lovers do months ago, back in Boston. the way he'd always ached to.

but you meet him halfway, and suddenly your warmth is on him.

it spreads from his lips and grows through his body - a beautiful, melancholic hum that sings along his veins. you are soft, you are pliant, strong, loving.

everything he doesn't deserve.

and yet you kiss him and you let your hand fall to his jaw, tilting yourself to feel more of him. he doesn't understand why, but maybe that's okay.

he kisses you back softly, then desperately.

your lips and his, something so kind, full of life. something that doesn't belong in such an apocalypse.

something he couldn't live without.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

(once again begging) send more requests! for Joel and Din! taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeiaaa @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @scarletthefierce @worhols @hearthrooob

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[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Say You Love Me Too | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Manager!Reader

Request: No

Synopsis: Reader has broken a rule that could get her fired. She's fallen in love.

Warnings: forbidden romance (?). Okay, here me out, this was supposed to be a cute platonic imagine about Wooyoung having a favourite manager but it didn't turn out that way. Probably kinda sucks.

Word Count: 1,267

ATEEZ Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

By the time it’s time to film the dance practice video for ATEEZ’s latest title track, it has been so engrained in Wooyoung that it’s muscle memory at this point. So, when something off to the side behind the camera’s catches his attention, his dancing isn’t affected as he looks over at the woman sitting crossed legged on the floor in the corner of the dance practice room. Wooyoung’s only issue was keeping himself from grinning ear to ear as he took the chance to look over at her when he could. 

Y/N’s going through the file of papers that contained ATEEZ’s up and coming schedules and what needed to be done and who was assigned to which task and all the other joys that came along with being one of the managers. She’s mouthing along with the words of the song and occasionally dancing along to it. She’d been there for every practice and got to sit on some of the studio sessions. The song was just as engrained into her as it was the men who sang and preformed it.  

“Let’s take a break and go over it again one more time,” the PD-nim's voice cuts through the room, ending filming for now.  

With that, she closes the file and stands up, holding the file to her chest so she doesn’t drop it. She stretches her legs, making her way over to her bag and places the file back inside it. As she stands back up straight, a familiar pair of arms wraps themselves around her as the person they belong to hugs her from behind.  

“Wooyoung!” she raises her voice, knowing who it is right away. She manages to get out of his hold as she turns around to face him. “Yah! I told you not to hug me when you’re all sweaty,” she continues, scolding him playfully and hitting his shoulder. 

“Are you leaving already?” he asks, ignoring your scolding, watching you hang your bag over your shoulder. 

“I have a meeting with the stylists to go over the concept looks and outfits for your comeback stage,” she answers and looks at her phone to see she has seven minutes to get to the conference room she was meeting the stylists in.  

“Are you coming back after the meeting?” he asks, his voice lowering, wanting to keep their conversation between just the two of them. She shakes her head, no. “Will I get to see you before you leave tonight?” 

“Maybe if you catch me on my way out,” she tells him. “If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before Wooyoung could say anything more, she leaves the practice room. 

But Wooyoung doesn’t give up that easy. He makes up some excuse about needing the bathroom and darts out of the room after her. The PD-nim and Hongjoong both shout at him to not be too long. 

“Y/N-ah!” he calls after her, only for her to ignore him as she waits for the elevator to reach her floor.  

When the elevator’s doors open, she steps inside just as Wooyoung reaches her. Before the doors can close, he slides into the elevator. When the doors close, she turns to him, frowning. “What are you doing?” 

“Why do I get the feeling your avoiding me?” he comments, brushing off her question and the disapproving look on her face. 

"I'm not avoiding you. I’m busy making sure everything goes smoothly for your comeback,” she she retorts, refuting any claims of avoidance he was accusing her of. "I've been practically juggling two jobs ever since the manager who used to handle this with me switched groups. KQ needs-” 

"Is it because of the kiss?" he interjects, cutting off her rambling.  

Her body tenses up, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red at the mention of the kiss they shared the night before.  

Wooyoung has always made it obvious that he cares deeply for her. From the way his gaze always found her in a crowded room, the way he would look at her with adoration in his eyes, and the way he always made an effort to be with her or beside her. Wooyoung's affection for her was undeniable. And it wasn’t something happened over night. It had built up gradually of the two years she’s been working for them. 

Y/N would be lying to herself and everyone around her if she said she didn’t feel the same. But her job was at risk if she ever gave into those feelings. She made it as clear as possible that her and Wooyoung would never go past just being friends. 

Until last night happened. He’d kissed her in a moment of weakness on both their parts. She wanted to regret it so bad, but she couldn’t bring herself to. The more she thought about it the more she wanted it to happen again and the more she was willing to look for another job so it could happen again.  

She was truly at a crossroads. 

“Can we not talk about that?” she asks, even though she wants to. Using her phone as a distraction from looking at him, she sees she has a minute left to get to the conference room. 

“I think we should,” he says disagreeing with her choice not to talk about it. 

“Not here, not now,” she sighs as the elevator reaches the floor she needs to be on. He follows her out and gently takes her arm stopping her from walking away and turning her back to face him.  

“Can I stop by your apartment later?” he asks, his voice once again only quiet enough for her to hear as someone walks by them on to the elevator.  

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says, without saying no. “You have late nights and early mornings. You need all the rest you can get. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow when I arrive.” 

“But we can’t talk then,” he frowns with a slight pout. 

“Maybe it’s best if we didn’t,” she sighs sadly, as she thinks with her brain and not her heart. She leaves him standing in the middle of the corridor, both their hearts breaking for something they want but can never happen.  

He’s about to turn around and head back to the practice room when Y/N walks out of the room she just walked into a moment ago. He looks at her confused.  

“I need to know,” she speaks before he could ask her what’s going on. “I need to know if your serious about us.” 

“The last time I was this serious about someone was when I told Yeosang him and I were going to succeed or fail together,” he admits. “Look how that turned out.” 

“Do you think we can make this work?” she asks, a hopeful and anxious look swirling in her eyes. 

“I don’t know but I hope we can,” he says, also hopeful as he takes her hand and pulls her into an empty room, just as the elevator doors open alerting them that someone is about to enter the corridor. After the door closes behind them, he takes her face in his hands, tilting her head so he can look into her eyes. “What I do know is that I can’t ignore that I’ve fallen in love you. I never expected to but here we are. Say you love me too.” 

“I love you, too,” falls from her lips before she has time to think about it. 

Wooyoung smiles and kisses her deeply, trying to convey all the love he has for her. 

Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. 

©️ 2024 CRAZYFORMFICS. NO ONE HAS PERMISSION TO COPY, TRANSLATE AND/OR REPOST MY WORKS ON HERE OR ANY OTHER SITE.

TAGGED: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @treehouse-mouse - @kpopmenace143 - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson

[wcbblife]

Ok I have another one, can you do juju x fem reader where reader is on live and she’s reading comments and someone says “ juju mid asf” and reader defends her by saying “ juju and mid don’t belong together in a sentence unless ‘not is between them’ ” or something like that (idk I was half asleep when i wrote this in my notes so you can change that if you want 😭). Then blocks the person cause she doesn’t allow anyone to talk abt her gf like that . Then juju gets sent the live from her teammates, so she txt reader or post it on twitter saying “my girl 🫡” or something 😭 I just had to write it in my notes before I forgot bruh 😭

Live Love

a/n: Kinda cheesy and short but I like it ngl. Hope you like it anon!

You’re live, chatting with your followers, enjoying the rush of interactions. The comments are flowing in, and you're responding to questions. After seeing fans online practically begging for you to go live following the volleyball team’s tournament win at home, you figured it’d be a great way to kill time while waiting at the airport for your next game. It was mostly fun, a comforting distraction.

You scroll through the comments, selecting a few to answer.

What’s your favorite thing to do on a day off?

“Great question! Honestly, I love just chilling at home, maybe cooking something new or catching up on shows. If Juju’s free, we’ll go grab some food or watch a movie. It’s all about relaxing and recharging.”

More questions flood the chat, and you pick another one.

Any book recommendations?

“Absolutely! I’ve been reading ‘The Song of Achilles’ lately. The writing is beautiful and so immersive. Highly recommend it. It’s a bit sad, though, so read it if you’re into that.”

Do you have any pets?

“Juju got a little puppy recently. You guys should see him—he’s the cutest. Juju calls him our kid now.”

As you continue engaging with the audience, the flood of comments and emojis feels like a warm embrace. But then, a comment stops you in your tracks, and your smile falters.

juju mid asf 😂

You pause, staring at the screen in disbelief. Juju’s been working tirelessly and seeing someone dismiss her like this hits unexpectedly hard. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the fire spreading through your body.

“Now I know I ain’t just read what I think I did, right? Juju mid as fuck? Don’t overstep. Juju’s my girlfriend. Juju and ‘mid’ don’t belong in the same sentence unless ‘not’ is between them, and I’m not going to stand by while people talk down about her in front of me.”

You pause, steadying your voice, determined to stand your ground.

“Keep her name out of your mouth. She’s achieved so much, and she deserves respect, not baseless criticism. You’re not going to get on my live and talk bad about my girlfriend, that’s for sure. I’m blocking you, bruh. Get out of here with that. If you don't have anything nice to say, shut your mouth. Let’s keep the vibes positive.”

Blocking the user brings a wave of satisfaction and relief. You continue engaging with your followers, but a part of you is still buzzing from the need to defend Juju.

“Alrighty, y’all, I’ll have to cut the Q&A short. We have to get on the plane now. Peace!”

Meanwhile, Juju’s phone buzzes with notifications. Her teammates have sent her clips from your live stream that fans had recorded and posted on TikTok. Watching, she feels a swell of pride.

Feeling touched and a bit playful, Juju opens Twitter to share a thought:

“My girl 🫡 #Proud #NotMid”

Shortly after her tweet, your phone vibrates with a text from Juju.

“Saw your live. Thanks for having my back. You’re amazing.”

A smile spreads across your face.

“About to take off. Love you.”

“I love you too, babe. Call me when you land.”

[avenging-fandoms]

Airplane - Harry Styles

In which Harry and Yn have been divorced for a while, but they both booked a trip to Paris at the same time and are sat directly next to each other.

idk if i love or hate this. i wrote this on goodnotes w a prompt i got from google in non fanfic form turn fanfic form. so enjoy or hate it idk

**fem pronouns

-

Yn sighed contently as she sat in the First Class seat, a pod directly next to her on the left. She took in her surroundings a bit before bending down to grab her phone, iPad, and anything else she needs as the long plane ride begins, not realizing the person sitting next to her was entering the pod.

Harry just saw the back of her head as he put his bag on the floor, running his fingers through his hair and putting his other bag in the overhead bin. Yn sat up and Harry’s eyes widen with his stomach swarming with butterflies and his mouth went dry. Yn slides her headphones over her head, doing a double take and dropping the headphones around her neck as she looks up at her ex husband.

“Oh my God, Harry, hi.” Yn smiles, standing up and the two hug over the barrier. “You’re heading to Paris?”

“Uh.. yeah. Just.. need to clear my head.” He nods. Yn can’t help but scan her eyes over him. It had been 2 years since the divorce and nearly 18 months since they’ve last seen each other, so they both took their time checking one another out subtly.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your head clearing. Enjoy your trip, H.” Yn smiles and sits in her seat putting her headphones on. Harry sat in his seat and smiles, grabbing all the things he needed for the beginning of the plane ride. Once in the air and it was allowed, Harry opened his laptop to work on some music.

Yn got up to put her sweater on and couldn’t help but peek over at Harry who worked intently on his laptop. Yn sat down and bit her lip, pulling down the divider and Harry pulled a headphone off his ear.

“I’m sorry to bother you, and I have no business as your ex-wife to ask, but can I please listen to what you’re working on?” Yn bit her lip softly and Harry smiles, sliding his headphones off and hand them to her.

“Of course, Peach. You have all the business asking, you’re my number one fan.” Harry winks and she blushes, sliding his headphones on. “I’ll pick something for you.” He took a minute scrolling before taking a deep breath and hitting play. Music filled the headphones and Yn sits back with a smile, but her smile doesn’t last for long as she list. He’s singing about being the love of his life and not knowing what is lost until you find it. Tears streamed and the song stopped.

“Really good.” Yn compliments as she wipes her cheeks and Harry shifts in his seat.

“It’s.. not finished. “I have others to play.” Yn nods with a sniffle.

Harry loved watching her reaction to the songs, especially since most were about her.

“These are beautiful, Harry. You have such an amazing talent.” Yn boasts and it was Harry’s turn to blush.

“You’re my muse so it just naturally flows out of me.” Harry looks at his laptop and the two fell silent. Yn looks at the plane screen and saw they have 10 hours. “Why did we divorce?” Harry asked.

“Well.. I wanted to start a family,” Yn looks at Harry then back at the time they have left. “And you wanted to focus on your career.” Harry’s lips fell into a thin line. “We talked about having kids. We were gonna have 2, maybe 3. Buy a big house, one with a pool and a big backyard for them to play together. I had so many ideas.” Yn smiles to herself, her eyes going blurry from tears once again. She looks down at her hands, flexing her fingers in and out slowly.

“Yn..” Harry starts but she cuts him off.

“No, really, I’m okay. I’ve had a while to get over you. Maybe I’m not there but I’m getting damn near close. Besides, I don’t blame you for choosing your career, look what’s happened. I’m so happy I didn’t hold you back from it.” Yn put the divider back up and headed to the bathroom, taking a few deep breaths.

Harry sat in his seat, staring at the light blue divider. A few people looked over and he just clenched his jaw. He knew he was wrong, he know he broke the marriage. It was his fault.

Yn looks at herself and takes a deep breath before doing her skincare and brushing her teeth. When she left the bathroom the cabin lights were dimmed, meaning people were heading to bed. Yn quietly heads back to her pod and accidentally made eye contact with Harry who quickly looked back at his computer before she sat down.

Yn opens her phone and sees 20 text messages from Harry. His demos. She smiles widely and hearted every single one. Yn brought the divider down once more, Harry already looking at her.

“Thank you Harry.” She grins and he nods.

“Go on a date with me.” Harry blurts and it catches Yn off guard.

“Harry, what? We-”

“What? We’re both going to Paris, it’s perfect. We can see the Eiffel Tower after dinner or get lunch then go to an art museum.” Yn blinks a few times and looks at Harry. “Go on a date with me, Yn.” Yn tries to bite back a smile.

“Yes, Harry. Yes, I will go on a date with you. In Paris.” She giggles and he slaps a hand over his heart.

“Beautiful. Don’t worry about anything, I will take care of everything.” Yn nods with a chuckle. “Sweet dreams, Peach.”

“Goodnight H.” Yn slowly put up the divider and put on her headphones, playing Harry’s demos as she slept while Harry got to planning.

[samwinchesterswifu]

Linger pt 2 (Sam Winchester x Reader Angst) (Dean Winchester x Reader Smut)

Season 4 x Episode 22 - Lucifer Rising

Song Inspo: "Linger" by The Cranberries & "Magic Man" by Heart

Warnings: uh smut, p in v (wrap it up), uhm really fucking emotional? Uses of she/her prounouns and women body parts <3

MINORS DNI

A/N: holy. fucking. shit. this is my LONGEST fan fic EVER. im so damn proud of myself. Only took me 2 days to write. Now this isnt an exact episode re-write but there are like 3 scenes from the episode in here and I tried to change up the dialog a little bit so it wasnt exactly copy paste. I truly do love this story. please dont be mad at me lol. but uh yeah more than likely pt 3 coming soon.

Word Count: 3.767k

Summary: Sam goes off with Ruby to stop the seals from breaking, what can she do in the mean time?

She sits on the edge of  Bobby’s couch. Her left foot tapping away as she begins to chew her fingers in anticipation. Dean had found him, and instead of her coming along with him, Dean felt it was best for her to stay behind incase things got out of control. The old farm house was deafeningly quiet. Bobby had gone off to calm down after recovering from the shot-gun hit, leaving her alone. It must’ve been around two, or three am but she didn’t care. Sleep was a second thought. What felt like years swimming in her own personal hell, the familiar roar of the Impala pulls into the graveled drive finally separating from her thoughts. She rises from her position and makes her way outside. As she opens the door, Dean is climbing out of the Impala. A serge of panic rises through her once seeing his beat up face. She races down the steps grabbing onto his chin to inspect. Dean groans at the contact.

“What the hell happened?” She asked sternly.

“We got into it.” Dean states rolling his eyes as she continued to examine.

“No shit,” she replies, a snicker sharp on her tongue.

 Dean grabs a hold of her wrist stopping her from further jerking his head back and forth. He sighs and locks eyes with her.

“What Dean?” She asks bluntly annoyed by his grasp.

“He was with Ruby.” Dean states as his eyes shift to an apologetic glow underneath the tall street light that loomed over them.

“Figures,” she scoffs, breaking away from Dean’s grip.

She takes a step back from him, wiping her palms against the rough fabric of her jeans.

“I told him not to come back.” Dean spats out.

Her head shoots up to look at him.

“You did WHAT?” She exclaims. Her fists clench, wanting so badly to add to the poor guys face.

“You heard me.” Dean states, arms crossing over his chest.

“You can’t just make that decision for the both of us!” She screams, and pushes him sharply, enough for him to stumble.

“Well I did! You listen to me, he’s not good for you, I’m so sick and tired of watching you be drunk off him when all he does is treat you like shit!” Dean yells at her. Leaving her completely dumbfounded.

“And what gives you the fucking authority to make that decision for me huh?” She raises her voice to match his, stepping toe-to-toe, staring him down.

In a split second, Dean’s hands where cuffing her cheeks and he brings her in for a searing kiss. His lips where sweet but salty, the faint taste of copper mixing in, presumably from the cut on his bottom lip. After a few seconds, she realizes that she was in fact kissing Dean and pulls away. Her hands rested on his shoulders. She looks at him completely shocked. But deep down, she liked it. It was nice to finally have some sort of human connection. At this point, she wasn’t sure if Sam would ever be back in her life and if he would love her enough to be with her. Weighing her options, she reconnects her lips to Deans.

They battle for dominance, teeth clashing as she plays with the hair on the nape of his neck. Dean groans as she tugs on his strands. His sounds leaving her breathless and needy. Dean breaks contact and begins to travel kisses across her cheek, and down her neck. Nibbling harshly at a spot below her ear that made her squirm. His hands traveled down her sides and he taps the curve underneath her ass. Realizing his signal, she jumps. Wrapping her legs tightly against his waist as he holds her steady. Dean reconnects their lips as he begins to walk. But not towards the house. She breaks contact for a brief moment to see where he was headed. He was headed towards the shop.

She locks eyes with Dean. Her gut screaming about whether or not this was the right decision. In this moment, she truly didn’t care. In this moment, Dean seemed like the perfect treat. His features shined against the moonlight and his green eyes were electrified. Her head was spinning by the power Dean seemed to hold at this moment. Maybe, just maybe, Dean could take care of her, treat her right. And that maybe was what she held on to.

She reconnects their lips as they enter the shop. Dean holds her with one arm as he pushes the shop door partially closed. Never once breaking their kiss. He walks her over to shop couch, pushing off the blanket that laid on the seat and some wrenches. They break away as he lays her down. Quickly discarding his shirt on the floor in the process. She does the same and Dean just stares at her.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Taking in her glow. Bobby had left on one of the lamps that were hanging over one of the current cars on the jacks. It was just enough light for them to see each other.

Dean dips down, pulling her breast into his mouth. His mouth was warm and inviting. Moaning at the contact that she didn’t even know she craved. His right hand engulfed her right breast as his tongue played with her left nipple. She squirms against him as soft mewls of pleasure leave her lips. After he seems satisfied with himself, he leans back from her chest. Dean toys with the button of her jeans, after struggling for a bit, he pulls them off gracefully. Groaning at the sight in front of him.

“I don’t know how anyone can pass you up,” he says licking his lips.

A deep blush forms across her cheeks. Its been so long hearing any sort of praise and her soul was being replenished.

As Dean starts to fumble with his belt, she reaches up to help him. Unzipping his jeans, she pushes down his boxers to find him fully erect. She expected Dean to have some length to him, but fuck was he girthy. She wraps her hand around him, slowly pumping. Dean dips his head back in pleasure. She picks up her pace, wiping the pre-cum from his tip to help with the friction. A moan leaves Dean’s lips as she does this and the heat in her core becomes unbearable. She stops, and Dean looks at her completely blissed out from just the slightest touch.

Dean looks at her as if to ask she was okay with this, and if she was ready. She nods and Dean takes a quick moment to kick off his jeans. He places himself back in between her legs and pushes aside her underwear. Dean grabs on to her hips and aligns himself with her. She grabs onto his bicep as he begins to push inside. Both of them seething at the contact. Her grip tightens as he stretches her earning a groan from the man. Dean is slow with it, inching closer and closer until he was completely inside. Both of them moaning at the feeling. She felt so full that it was making her dizzy.

Once allowing her a few moments to adjust to his length, Dean unleashes a brutal attack. His thrust start off fast and hard. Her moans fill up the shop and she prayed that no one was outside to hear her. Dean was a god, he moved exactly the right away and kept his pace steadily. Her first orgasm came within minutes. The second one falling behind shortly after.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking, goo-“ Dean grunts. Being cut off with his own thrust.

The opposite hand from holding himself steady rose and grasped around her throat. This fucking man knew how to choke someone. The pressure from his grasp makes her third orgasm more violent than the first. Her moans turned into screams as he just continued on his attack.  A fourth and fifth orgasm rippled through her bones. Her eyes swelled with tears at the immense amount of pleasure she was being supplied.

However, Dean’s thrust became more and more unstable. He was close and she wanted to milk every last drop out of him.

“Cum in me, please,” she grasps out in between moans.

Dean looks at her bewildered by her request but nods.

“Okay, okay, fuck-“ Dean thrusts a few more times before he fills her up completely. His orgasm bringing on her final one at the same time.

Both of them sit there for a moment, Dean was still inside of her as they catch their breaths. Their eyes lock for a moment and both let out a small laugh. Dean slowly pulls out of her, both moaning at the loss of contact. Dean takes a moment before grabbing his and her pants from the floor tossing them to her. Slipping them on, she grabs her discarded shirt and throws it back on as Dean does the same. She was completely wiped by this point. She yawns, and Dean takes note of it. Grabbing the shop blanket that was thrown about, he motions behind her. Surprised by his actions, she allows Dean to settle behind her as he throws the shop blanket across them. He stretches out his right arm to allow her to use it as a pillow as his left arm lays across her waist. She snuggles close to him and starts to drift to sleep feeling protected.

The morning sun peaks through the crack of the shop door, shining just right to stir her from slumber. She blinks her eyes open, looking around to figure out her surroundings as last night’s memories play back. She notices that Dean was no longer behind her and no where in the shop to be found. She sighs, tossing the shop blanket to the side and makes her way back towards the house, seeing Bobby’s car back in the drive. She groans at the thought of having to explain herself to Bobby. But as she gets closer to the house she can hear yelling from inside.

“Don’t make me get my gun boy,” Bobby’s voice of retribution laces through the hallways as she makes her way inside. It was unsettling to hear Bobby stern.

“We are damn near kick off for Armageddon, don’t you think we got bigger fish to fry?” she can hear Dean state from the living room as she makes her presence known. Both men looking towards her as she does so.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bobby asks sternly, arms crossing over his chest.

“I, uh-“ she stutters, pointing towards the door, unsure of how to explain she fell asleep in the shop.

Dean looks up at her innocently, shaking his head as if to say to not say a damn word.

“Never mind.” Bobby huffs.

She gulps, her throat stuffed with anxiety.

“I know you’re pissed, and I’m not making apologies for what he’s done, but he’s your-“

“Blood? He’s my blood, is that what you’re gunna say?” Dean cuts Bobby and he sighs in response.

“He’s your brother.” Bobby states,

“And he’s drowning,” the old man sighs looking between the both of them. Nodding his head towards Dean’s direction to try to get her to weigh in on the situation.

“Maybe Bobbys right Dean, he needs our help.” She chimes in, a groan leaving Dean’s lips at her response.

“I tried to help him Y/N, I already did.” Dean replies.

“So try again.” Bobby rebuttals. However he takes notes of how uneasy Dean had became once she entered the house.

“Did something happen between you two?” Bobby asks, looking at Dean. Dean shoots her a panicked look as Bobby shoots a glare towards her.

“No, no- we’re fine,” she comments. Bobby makes a soft “uh huh” under his breath clearly not believing them.

“it’s too late-“ Dean states as he strides towards the stair case.

“There’s no such thing,” Bobby says trying any way he can to get Dean to calm down.

“No, damn it!” Dean shouts. He was evidently annoyed by this whole conversation.

“No.” He sighs, the man was stubborn  she’d give him that.

“Look, we got to face the facts. Sam never wanted to be apart of this family. He hated our life growing up. Ran away to school first chance he got. Now it’s like Déjà VU all over again.” Dean shifts on the edge of his heels as he leans down to sit on the couch behind him.

“Well I am sick and tired of chasing after him, you should be too.” Dean pauses, point directly at her.

“Screw him, he can do what he wants.” Dean sneers.

“You don’t mean that-“ Bobby starts before getting cut off again by Dean.

“Yes I do Bobby,” he sighs. “Sammy’s gone.”

“I’m not even sure if he’s still my brother anymore. If ever was,” Dean’s voice cracks at the pain. A deep look forms over his eyes, a sad one. It hurt her to see him so distraught over Sam, because she was too.

Bobby pushes himself off his desk, pacing back and forth before suddenly throwing everything off of it.

“You stupid, stupid son of a bitch!” Bobby yells and Dean rises to meet him. She backs away from them honestly a bit scared from the interaction.

“Well boohoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt princess! Are you under the impression that family supposed to make you feel good? Bake you an apple pie maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family!” Bobby screams, stomping his foot in frustration.

“I told him that if he walked out that door to not come back, and that’s what he did Bobby!” Dean yells back, walking past him as his fist clenches.

“You sound like a brat-“ Bobby mocking in his response.

“No,” Dean whispers coming near her, and his back facing Bobby. Unsure of how to comfort him in the moment.

“You sound like John. Well let me tell you something, John was a coward.” Bobby states.

“You are a better man than your daddy ever was.” Bobby replies, Dean snickers in bewilderment.  

“Don’t be him.” Bobby’s words cut through her. Growing up around John Winchester taught her a lot about how not to be a family and she was starting to regret pushing Sam away.

She could see Dean thinking, and he looks to her with pleading eyes begging for help in those moment. She shook her head, and dean scoffed again turning to face Bobby when suddenly he was gone.

“Dean?!” She screeches, her voice cracking in the process. Both her and Bobby looking frantically around the house.

“Oh, balls!” Bobby yells, kicking the side of his desk.

But just as suddenly Dean disappeared, Castiel stood before her.

“Hello Y/N,” Castiel greets her, looking towards Bobby giving him a nod.

“Where the hell is Dean Castiel!” She asks ready to take on the angel in front of her.

“We have him, it’s almost time.” Castiel bluntly replies.

“We? You mean the angels have him?” She asks a new wave of panic sifts through her blood stream.

“Yes, we have him, don’t worry he’s safe.” Castiel states. Before she could respond Castiel was gone again.

She screams in frustration, grabbing the nearest book and tossing it in the direction where the angel once stood.

“Here,” Bobby says tapping her shoulder and handing her a glass of whiskey.

“Thanks,” she responds. Taking in a heaping swig to off set her nerves.

Setting down the cup, she lays down on the closest couch stretching her legs out and sighing at todays events.

“So, what happened between you two?” Bobby asks again this time really letting on that he needed to know.

“I did something stupid Bobby.” She replies reaching over to the cup of whiskey taking another sip before continuing.

“Dean and I slept together.” She blurts out. Groaning at the thought of last night.

“You did what?” Bobby asks, a sliver of disbelief hanging on his tongue.

“Yeah, last night, in your- in your shop.” She grunts out. Letting out another huff in embarrassment.

“You stupid stupid girl! Seriously! Dean of ALL people?” Bobby yells making her jump at his sudden voice raise.

“I know Bobby-“ She starts before getting cut off.

“I don’t think you understand woman, if Sam finds and he will, he’s gunna be pissed.” Bobby snickers taking back the cup that he had previously handed to her. A quick ‘hey!’ at his action leaves her lips.

“What were you thinking?” Bobby sighs shaking his head at her.

“I was upset too Bobby, Sam’s made it evident that he doesn’t want to be with me.” She shrugs. Completely drained by everything that’s happened over the last 48 hours.

“He does want to be with you, you idjit.” Bobby tells her bluntly. Almost as if they were repeating the same conversation as before, but centered on her this time.

“No he doesn’t Bobby,” she responds, tears choking up her words as she fight back all the hurt she experienced because of the youngest Winchester.

“Yes he does Y/N, that kid is so madly in love with you he’s doing all of this for you- to give you a better world, I know his actions doesn’t seem it but that’s what he doing kiddo, for you.” Bobby says, handing her back the previously taken whiskey glass.

She lays there silently for a moment before taking another sip of the glass. She doesn’t respond to Bobby before sitting up and pushing her self off the couch. Grabbing her cellphone that laid on the side table, she makes her way outside. She walks around to the shop to get some privacy incase Bobby came looking.

Taking a deep breath, she calls Sam’s cellphone. After a few rings its sent to voice mail where she hesitates for a quick moment of what she was going to say.

“Sammy,” she starts, taking another deep breath before continuing.

“You don’t have to do this. Come back to Bobby’s please, we’ll figure out another way, you and me, come back to me, please. My sweet boy please, just come back to me.” She finishes the phone call.

Her heart ached, frustrated and annoyed with herself. How could she be so stupid and go behind Sam’s back like that? The sun was almost rested in the sky at this point in the evening, the moon peaking over the tower of cars that laid in the salvage yard. She decides to go back inside, wanting to distract herself with cooking something at the very least.

But as she turns around to start her way back, she is met with Castiel and Dean in front of her. Dean tries to say something before Castiel is grabbing her and before she can protest they were standing in front of the prophet Chuck.

“God damn it Cas!” She yells, stumbling, and trying to catch her balance.

“Oh this isn’t supposed to be happening-“ Chuck says while simultaneously on the phone.

“No- lady this is definitely supposed to be happening, but I uh, I gotta call you back.” Chuck says to the woman on the phone before disconnecting the call.

“St. Marys? What is that a convent?” Dean asks reading over the newly written Supernatural Script.

“Yeah but-but you guys aren’t supposed to be there.” Chuck responds. “You’re not in this story,” he finishes, completely flustered by their arrival.

“We’re making it up as we go.” Cas states. Dean looks between the angel and her, also confused by the angels actions. She shrugs at his glance.

Then, the familiar sound of angel static and bright lights fill the room.

“Oh no not this again!” Chuck groans, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“It’s the archangel!” Castiel screams over the sound.  A wave of panic flushes Dean’s features and he looks like he is a bout to pass out from the sheer rush of adrenaline.

“I’ll hold them off, just stop Sam!” Castiel yells, looking between her and Dean.

Touching both of them at the same time, they’re transported to a new location. Dean takes a moment to look around to realize that they’re at the convent. He grabs a hold of her hand and starts to walk down the hallway in front of them. The round a corner to find Sam and Ruby in the main chapel room with Lilith on  the ground. Ruby turns to look at the two and smirks. A deep scrawl forms on both of their faces, preparing to kill the demon bitch. With a flick of her wrist, Ruby closes the door on them.

Rushing to the door way, they both start to bang on the old wooden doors. Yelling his name at the top of their lungs. She pushes Dean out of the way and uses her whole body weight against the door to try to pry it open. She was desperate at this point, tears threatened to break loose from her lashes. Wanting nothing more than to save him.

“Move!” Dean yells. Turning around she see’s him holding a statue and she grabs a hold of it. The two of them ram the door open and Ruby turns to face them.  

Grabbing the demon knife from Dean’s pocket she strides towards Ruby.

“You’re too late.” Ruby laughs.

“I don’t care,” she snickers back.

Sam stands up quickly, grabbing a hold of  Rubys arms as she makes the final blow. Twisting the knife to make sure she was truly dead. Ruby starts to flash out, and sick smile forms on her lips as she watches.

Ruby finally drops dead and Sam pushes Ruby to the side. Sam takes a moment to look at her, and Dean before resting on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Sam chokes out.

He takes a step forward and his hands come to cuff her cheeks, bringing her in for a quick kiss. The ground beings to rumble as a bright light shoots from the center. This throws off their balance making her fall into Sam. Dean looks between the two of them, his words stuck on his throat unsure of what to say. They all three turn to look at the hole that was beginning to form. Dean grabs onto both of them frantically.

“Y/N, Sammy, lets go-“ Dean spats out. Sam grabs on to Dean, staring down the light.

“Dean?” Sammy asks and Dean looks to him concerned.

Sam chokes on broken tears.

“He’s coming-“