#the freckles look so bad but the brush I used before didn’t look good either so

[krystaldeath]

Cotltober week 1 prompt DONE!! For the Day 4 prompt Lose Your Head

Telling myself this is perfectly fine and good enough. For my sanity-

WHY is it so SMALL-

[punkpoemprose]

A Convenient Arrangement- Part 15

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating: T (No spice here, see previous chapter for mature content) Length: 2056 Words A/N: One more chapter to go if all goes as planned. Perhaps an epilogue after that if I'm feeling really brave about it. Thank you all for joining me on this ride. I hope you like this penultimate chapter!

The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains of Anna’s bedroom and Kristoff, despite Anna’s efforts to thoroughly exhaust him the night before, had been awake for some time. To the credit of the castle staff, or perhaps Elsa, no one had come up to wake them and demand their pre-dawn attendance toward any matters.

Anna was facing him, her body curled toward him, and he leaned up a bit, moving slowly to not disturb her, so he could block the incoming light with his chest. Anna was usually a heavy sleeper, he knew as much from their nights together, but he was enjoying watching her calm slumber and wanted to avoid her being disturbed if he could help it.

Her hair was slipping from the braid he’d put it in the night before, little tendrils of frizz sticking out and clinging to her pillow. She’d performed mock annoyance with him when he’d insisted that they couldn’t sleep until he’d helped her remove all her hairpins, but she’d acquiesced and leaned into his touch when he’d brushed out her hair and plaited it to the best of his ability. In the daylight he wasn’t sure what strands he’d missed in braiding, and which had slipped out in sleep, but either way he was proud of how well he’d done caring for his wife.

He brushed a few loose pieces of hair away from her face with a finger, careful not to wake her. She scrunched her eyes a little in return, but didn’t wake, giving him more time to take in the way she looked in peaceful sleep.

He thought that someday, if she would let him, he’d count all the freckles that danced across her nose and cheeks. It would take him weeks, months, maybe even years to catalog all the details of her body, but he was excited to have the challenge. He’d never before wanted to spend so much time with a single person as he did with Anna, and he was certain that even if he had her for the rest of his life, it still wouldn’t be enough time for his taste.

***

Anna woke feeling comfortable, warm, and safe. Her first sight of the morning, through bleary eyes, was Kristoff’s eyes on hers. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the sunlight illuminating his face, and she felt her lips quirk into a soft smile that matched the contented one she saw on his face.

“Good morning Anna.”

He spoke softly, easing her into wakefulness. She was grateful for it as, despite sleeping very well after the evening’s excitement, her willingness to wake up fully was at odds with her wishes to simply never leave bed ever again.

“Good morning,” she returned, the sound of her voice mingling with a yawn she could not suppress despite her best efforts.

He smiled a bit more at that, a grin that she recognized as amusement lighting his features with joy. She wasn’t at all upset by his amusement at her yawning. Kristoff was, perhaps, the only person that held her unwillingness to leave bed in high regard. She supposed, feeling warm at the thought, that it was perhaps in his best interest to keep her in bed for as long as possible given the enjoyment they’d both gotten out of the night before.

“Are we going to try to do something today, or should I try to find someone to bring us breakfast in bed?”

Anna smiled at the suggestion. His eyebrow waggled a bit at the suggestion of staying in bed, and she knew that, despite his insistence at taking her lead in their relationship, that he would be just as happy with that option as she was.

“I have plans for us,” she said, feeling only slightly bad for not agreeing to stay in bed all day with him. If he was upset by this answer, he certainly didn’t show it.

He yawned then, smiling at her still and pulling her closer by her waist.

“What would that be?”

She smiled, nuzzling into his chest once she was close enough to him. She was uncertain as to whether he’d even hear her with her head tucked into his chest when she said, “I just thought that since we’ll be back to learning out new duties soon, that it might be a good idea for us to take the day together to talk a but more about what our relationship is and also I think it might be food for both of us to make another appearance in public so that no one thinks that yesterday was a show. Maybe we could walk around the city and do a little visit with some of the kinder shopkeeps we met yesterday? I could buy you a gift since I didn’t give you one yesterday for our party. I never even got to give you one for our engagement. It just seems like it might be nice.”

Kristoff’s eyes seemed to move elsewhere in the room for a moment but returned to hers quickly. She didn’t really question it, but she did notice it. She supposed he was just thinking about the other things that he had to do in the day and was looking for a kind way to shut down her idea.

“That sounds perfect Anna,” he said before she could even think of a way to backpedal her offer.  She should have realized by now that she never needed to doubt herself when it came to Kristoff. All his reactions to her had always been honest and kind.

She smiled and nuzzled into his chest, not quite ready to get out of bed and start the day after all.

***

Anna had brought him through the city again, shopping and chatting with store owners like they had before, but today the city had been the quietest he’d ever seen it. He’d seen folks sleep off festivals before, but unfairly it seemed at times that they were the only citizens of the city to be out of bed even well into the afternoon. Of course, he had known that his and Anna’s marriage had been looked upon favorably by the people of Arendelle, given that it was the purpose of the arrangement in the first place, but even he was impressed by the amount of debauchery and joy their belated wedding celebrations had inspired.

The few beleaguered shop keeps that they had managed to speak will had been happy for their visits, of course, but he was just as happy when he and Anna, blessedly without a castle guard, had retired from the city proper and decided to spend time on some of the public lands in the surrounding hills.

The afternoon was already upon them, and Anna, in her infinite wisdom, had purchased all the makings of a picnic in the markets and shops they visited.

“I know I already have so many picnic blankets and baskets,” she said, laying everything out with his help, “but now that I actually have cause and company to go out and use them, I feel like it’s not a waste to have bought another.”

“And” Kristoff added with a chuckle, “you were worried that if we went back to get one you already had, and your sister saw us back in the castle, she would realize we were heading out and make us take a guard this time.”

“That is a not insignificant possibility. It may also be possible that I liked the pattern on this blanket because it looks like your sash.”

She was blushing, and as Kristoff looked between his sash, the one he wore most often, and the picnic blanket, he did notice the same mix of yellows, reds and purples, even if the pattern itself was different. He slipped his hand to the fabric around his waist and slid across the blanket to her side. Between them were the remainder of the sweet breads, fruit, and wine that they’d bought in the market.

“Here,” he said, slipping the fabric from around his waist, offering it to her, but then thinking better of it and offering, by extending his hand, to wrap it around her waist for her.

She gave him a curious look, but then acquiesced with a soft grin and allowed him to put it on her. He hadn’t intended to use it as an excuse to put his hands on her waist, but it wasn’t at all a negative to the interaction. He held her, and reveled in the way she looked at him with so much love and excitement in her blue eyes when he stroked his thumb down her side. He tied it gently around her, moving slowly to prolong the contact of his hands on her body. When he was done with his task and managed to pry his hands away from her, he felt something like pride in seeing her wear something of his so proudly.

She’d seemed just as pleased in the market when she’d picked up a similarly styled sash for him as a gift, one that happened to feature the signature green color of so many of her dresses. He tied that to his own waist much more expediently, physically marking himself as hers much in the same way he’d just marked her as his.

Whether it was the latent magic from the valley in the stone, or his own awareness of the ring in his pocket making it feel warm against his let at the thought, he wasn’t certain. What he did know was that as Anna looked at him with utter reverence, their bodies leaned close together in the verdant hills of Arendelle, he’d finally found the right moment to offer it to her.

He was already on his knees, but he did his best to appear intentional in his actions when he reached into his pocket and pulled from it, carefully watching her eyes as he did so, the ring that he and the trolls had crafted from his heart stone. He didn’t need to glance down at it to see what she sawm he had every detail of the stone and its setting memorized from its creation, a pink stone flanked on the side by other, non magical clear stones, set into a golden band. His family, far better with stone and the metals and gems extracted from them than he could ever be, had made it to his exact specifications. It was imperfect in ways that made it mean much more to him, and by the excitement he could see in Anna’s eyes, he had no doubt that she would love it for those details as well.

 The stone was small and only a piece of the crystal. In his family’s traditions, Anna would have been given the whole stone on a cord as their engagement gift, but given that Anna was not a rock troll who could hold a heavy stone around her neck and the fact that they were already married, some amendments were to be made. If she accepted the ring, the rest of the stone would already be hers, but he hoped that he would have her blessing to turn most of the remaining crystal into other things, earrings, a necklace, to celebrate their wedding and anniversaries. He hoped that she would take it and that she would agree to marry him again.

He cleared his throat, trying to remember the perfect words he’d thought about repeatedly, to ask his wife to marry him. None came to mind, and he wasn’t certain that he’d ever come up with any in the first place.

The joy, excitement, and adoration in Anna’s eyes told him that it didn’t matter. Her hand pressing to his sash, the one she wore on her waist, gave him the courage to say what was in his heart.

“Anna, my beautiful wife, would you do me the honor of marrying me again?”

She nodded, and while her eyes held tears, he knew they were happy ones. She agreed without question, and he knew that this, the moment that she tackled him onto the blanket, pressing her lips to his in joy, was the first day of the rest of his life.

And what a beautiful life it would be.

[kittencomicslol]

I don’t have a name for this; just spooky month Roy angst w my oc to build character. Less of a ship fic and more of them just being friends in this one. Mentions of Roy’s shitty homelife and struggles, trans Roy if u squint, and also Y’know my oc

I wrote this at like 12-1 am bc I couldn’t sleep AND I was still so awake I spell checked the entire thing to the best of my ability in the middle of the night so it might not be perfect but I think I did pretty good

——

An angry huff escaped Roy’s mouth as he sat down next to Amber by her little fort in the woods. He knew he would find her here; and as much as he liked to say he hated her he really couldn’t. She had every right to have him; to be crude to him and reject him as the scum he was. But she didn’t.

Even after how he treated her younger cousin and his friend; the way he treated her and spoke to her in such cold manners.. she still smiled at him.

“Roy! I didn’t expect you to be here!”

Amber cheered as she noticed him, looking down at him from the little tree branch she was sitting on. Roy tilted his head up to look at her, faking a scowl in order to hide his conflicting emotions.

“Yea well.. I figured… I just.. never-mind. It’s stupid, you’re stupid.”

The boy struggled to get words out and instead of taking time to articulate them he defaulted back to insulting her and going quiet; a bad habit he indulged far too much in.

Amber let out a little chuckle, brushing off his rude words as she always did, before hopping off the low hanging branch. The landing caused her beanie to droop slightly so she raised her hands to straighten it back up.

Once she had her hat on right again, she moved to go sit down next to him on the log with a big smile on her face.

“Well, it’s nice to see you either way, stupid or not.”

She was just so.. cheerful. He had no idea how she did it and could only ever dream of living a life where he could be so carefree. Maybe that was the reason he spent so much time around her; she felt like an escape from his traumas and his home life. It felt better to go sit in the woods with a weird girl than sit at home alone with his parents scolding him or trying to make him ‘better’.

“No ross or Robert today? Just you? What’s the occasion? Wanted to see little old me?”

The blonde raised a brow, a grin on her freckled face as she gazed back at Roy who kept his gaze on the floor.

“Don’t think it’s because I don’t think you’re a loser, you totally are.. I’m just.. bored.”

He was a liar; a good one at that. He had learned how to lie and cover up countless things over his childhood. He wasn’t just bored, he wanted to see her.

Amber rolled her eyes, snorting slightly at his words. She somehow always saw through him and his little lies.. perhaps she was able to sniff them out better because of how flustered he always was around her. He wasn’t used to being talked to like someone’s friend by anyone but Ross and Robert. He was used to other kids being afraid of him or wanting to avoid him; not to be welcomed with open arms.

“It’s nice to see you too.”

Was all she said in response. Per usual she had no snide remark or rude comment; just sweet little words that sounded like music to his ears.

The wind blew slightly, causing the leaves of the sylvan area to tremble on their branches; making little rustling sounds.

“Though.. I would have preferred you to come out sooner. It’s late, and I was gonna head back home soon..”

Roy sighed at Ambers response, knowing that the sun had already begun to set. The truth was he just really didn’t want to be at home right now. He needed a distraction.

“You never seem to be scared to stay out late, what’s up with you recently, huh? Suddenly afraid of the dark?”

The boy teased, a smirk growing on his face as he looked up to her. His hazel eyes gazed back into her baby blue ones, awaiting a response.

Roy was rightfully confused by Amber refusing to stay out after dark as of late. When they first met a few months ago she wouldn’t hesitate to stay out after dark and mess around, even in the woods. He would never admit he was actually afraid of going in the woods during night because he didn’t wanna look weak, but that wouldn’t stop him from teasing her about it.

“Ah.. no. You know me, I’m always up for staying out. But.. Aunt Lila has been struggling recently and has needed a hand watching Skid.”

This seemed to catch Roy off guard slightly. Family problems? With Amber and the little spooky kid? They were always so happy he assumed they didn’t have anything going on. He knew he hung around Amber a lot, and spent a decent amount of time bullying Skid.. but he had never seen any real issues. He didn’t exactly know what to say. Part of him wanted to lash out to try and make himself feel better about his own issues at home.. but the other half of him felt sympathetic. He had grown rather fond of Amber.. he was learning to control his temper around Skid due to better support and encouragement from his friends… he decided to stay quiet.

“I would invite you over but, I know that after last time when you ran into Kit it was kind of.. not fun for you.”

She chuckled, mentioning the last time she tried to invite Roy over. He swore to every single person he knew it was just for homework because of a stupid deal. Which was true.. but if it wasn’t based on a deal he wouldn’t tell people he was going soft. He needed to be feared and hated so he could feel powerful in order to have some sense of control in his messy life; as twisted as that sounds. He just wanted a constant.

Last time Roy visited Ambers house Skid was luckily out of the house; though another member of their little dysfunctional family was there. And she wasn’t very happy to see him. The strange and paranormal had become so damned common in this town he wasn’t even that shocked when the house cat started talking. The.. cat? Child..? Name of Kit, had heard plenty about Roy. She even had some run ins with him in the past while she went out with Skid and Pump. It was safe to say those interactions between Roy and Kit did not go well either times..

Roy didn’t want to admit it, but he was definitely a bit scared and intimidated by Kit and how violent she could be. He had no idea something that tiny could hold so much energy and malice, but She proved him wrong. Roy sighed, shaking his head slightly.

“Yea.. you’re right.. I just..”

He was at a loss. He almost slipped up and opened up and he wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing anymore. He had known her for like five months now and she had been nothing but kind… he could trust her, right..? He knew she already heard a bit about his life from rants he gave to Ross and Robert when she was also around. Though Amber definitely didn’t know the full extent of his issues.. that was for him to share and him only. Roy sighed, clenching his fists slightly in annoyance at how weak he really was.

“You just.. what?..”

Ambers voice rang out, being the only thing to pierce the silence of the woods other than the rustling leaves and the occasional bird singing. She noticed how he scowled and clenched his hands into fists, instantly recognizing his stress.

“Are you alright?..”

No teasing.

No mocking.

No scolding or yelling.

Just a simple question that he rarely heard from anyone but Ross and Robert. Roy grunted in annoyance; slightly peeved by how easily she read him like a book.

“I-… “

The boy stumbled over his words. What if expressing himself made him seem less masculine? What if saying how he felt made him look weak? What if she took advantage of him and his feelings..?

From an outsiders standpoint these worries seemed so unrealistic. Amber was the sweetest girl Roy has ever met. She would never do anything like that at all.

But too Roy, those worries were all to real and prevalent in his mind. And yet, he still spoke.

“No… no, I’m not..”

He said with a sigh, keeping his head hung down in shame. Just saying that took so much effort and bravery on his part. Amber seemed surprised that he was actually opening up but she didn’t want to make this about her or her shock. She wanted to focus on him.

“It’s just.. things are shitty right now.. I’ve been getting in fights at home and.. I just..”

Before Roy knew it that all too well familiar feeling of a warm liquid streaming down his face washed over him. He was crying.

“I just want to get away from it all!.. and, I thought if.. I came and talked to you I could get my mind off it and distract since you always seem to talk so much about your stupid monsters or whatever..”

Despite the rude tone of his words; they were anything but. Sure the way he worded what he said came off as a bit insensitive and crude, but he was upset right now and anger was what he knew. He was telling her he wanted to be around her to have a nice distraction, that he wanted to listen to her ramble about her weird little interests that had grown on him.

“Roy..”

Amber mumbled out in a shocked tone, genuinely surprised by how honest and open he was being. A small frown tugged at her lips as she tried to figure out a way to make him feel better.

Roy sniffled, raising his arm to wipe his tears away with that oversized sweater he loved so much. It covered up his body, the body he hated.

“I’m sorry.. but I can’t really have you over without further notice.. but..”

Amber hesitated, thinking of a way to be able to still contact and speak with him while he felt alone.

“Do you have your phone on you? Or.. maybe a peice of paper?..”

He seemed a bit off-put by her sudden question, confused on how that could be relevant until it clicked. Roy was already overwhelmed and didn’t have much talk left in him so he dug into a pocket and pulled out his phone, opening it up and handing it to her.

Amber quickly dialed her digits into his phone, sending herself a quick text from his device before handing it back to him with a sweet smile on her face.

“I have to be at home Incase skid needs something.. but he usually just likes to watch shows. Call me whenever you want or shoot me a text. I’ll let you know when I get home and if you want I can talk to you about stuff all night.”

She responded sweetly. She would have put her hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him further but she had noticed over time that he seemed uncomfortable with touch.. she had no idea why he did but she figured it might be why he’s always so damed angry or stressed. Amber didn’t want to push his boundaries, so she just smiled.

“And.. if you feel up to it.. you can always rant or vent to me if needed.”

She added on, standing up and dusting herself off slightly. Roy was silent, shocked almost. He didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve ANY of this. He was a horrible person, he treated her and her family terribly.. he hadn’t even properly apologized. But.. here she was. Treating him like she would any other person, treating him like he was worth something. He almost wanted to lash out at her, to self destruct and keep himself isolated.

But he didn’t.

He shut his eyes to fight back tears, wiping away the remaining ones before standing up and gazing back at her.

“Thanks.. I’ll.. I’ll call you.”

——

Full drawing from the top, it’s old but I still like it and I sort of based this off of it

Oh also Kit belongs 2 @mango-mya

I didn’t exactly write a lot about her so I don’t expect u do go crazy or read all of this but like I mentioned her so credit where credit is due yknow :3

[the-pale-goddess]

What is Tiffany's morning routine? What are the differences between work days and days off?

Though we’ve already reached the mother!Tiffany timeline, I’m going to describe her pre-kid period because right now her routine is pure chaos and mess 😅

I apologize for the lengthy (and delayed) response—I had way too much with this ask, thank you so much, dear ❤️

Workday

Miss Tiffany isn’t a morning person. Watch her set 5 alarms with enough slack time that allows her to sleep through them all and be shocked when it’s time to wake up every damn day kjsdkjskdj However, she managed to adapt to the demanding schedule and getting up at an ungodly hour isn’t a big deal anymore.

To start another hectic day on a high note, she needs a generous cup of strong coffee and a weekday-friendly breakfast, for example an avocado toast with burrata/egg or a sunflower-seed bagel filled with cream cheese, smoked salmon and red onion. The quality of her diet has improved significantly ever since she got serious with Ethan—he basically forced better eating habits on her. Everyone say: thank you, good sir! She used to grab a quick bite of anything that didn’t require preparation, and would usually end up with garbage processed food or just coffee. She tries to make conscious, healthy choices now, and always remembers to take her vitamins. 

If Ethan is still around at the time, he cooks a nutritious breakfast and they eat it together, talking about their plans for the day, joking, flirting, soaking up each other’s soothing presence, energy and affection. On occasion, when they’re feeling particularly frisky, the playful banter inevitably leads to a quickie in the shower. 

If not, and she’s not in a hurry, she prefers to cherish the peaceful slumber and prolongs the moment wrapped in a fluffy blanket, listening to her very own Rise & Shine good morning playlist as she mentally prepares for the challenges ahead. 

Bathroom time begins with a refreshing shower. Then, she brushes her teeth, washes her face using a gentle cleanser and follows her morning skincare routine (vit C serum + moisturizer + eye cream + SPF). She applies vanilla-scented body lotion to her skin and finishes with a roll of a trusty alcohol-free antiperspirant for underarm protection. Before moving on, she waits until the products dry completely. 

A very crucial step in Tiffany’s routine is of course perfume! She picks the scent she vibes with at the moment, and sprays it on a few of her pulse points to ensure it lingers and travels with her all day. Additionally, when she’s ready to go, she does the controversial ‘spritz and step’ method just because she likes to keep a complementary layer of fragrance on her clothes as well.  

Tiff always prepares her outfit the night prior, right before going to bed, so getting dressed fast is her specialty. She completes her look with comfortable, non-intrusive jewelry, such as cute stud earrings or small huggies and a delicate necklace. 

The next step is make-up. Her skin is at long last clear and luminous, so she usually chooses a fresh, freckled face with a touch of highlighter, mascara and some nude lipstick/lip gloss. On gloomy days, she likes to add a dab of NARS Orgasm blush on her cheeks. Sometimes all the stress results in a pimple here and there, requiring a little concealer to get rid of the redness. If the bags under her eyes betray her exhaustion, she covers that crime scene as well. 

My girl washes her hair at night, she would never waste any precious second of sleep in the morning to add this very tedious step to her routine lol Her hair’s naturally pretty wavy and keeps falling in this really chic way (*winks at my Fleabag enjoyers*) with zero effort, so she just takes a minute to brush it and either keeps her locks down or tames them in a bun/ponytail (depending on her mood and bad hair days).

She packs her lunchbox, earphones, and a bottle of water. As a typical Virgo, she has to make sure that her bag contains all the necessary items, paying special attention to: clean scrubs, wallet, medical files and journals, lip balm, scrunchie, chewing gum, perfumes, mini make-up kit (in case some unexpected evening plans forced her to transform from Doctor Addams to Miss California). 

Day off

The striking difference is that Tiffany takes her sweet time to sleep in with no alarms to disturb her blissful reset. Except for the alarm called Ethan, obviously ksbdkbdkb When she finally decides it’s her time to leave the bed, the first thing she does is put her favorite music on and dance her way to a good mood. 

Sometimes she intentionally gets up earlier to head to the gym or join a pilates/yoga class, but on most occasions she would choose sleep over sport. When Ethan’s home, she’s more than eager to give that luxury up, though. Their preferred way to start the day together is stretching…With a bang. If you catch my drift 😏

The breakfast differs too; without all the pre-work rush she’s able to treat herself to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and pancakes/omelet/shakshuka/etc. 

The bathroom routine remains fairly the same, though she may mix the steps in between other activities, all depending on her plans for the day. 

If there’s nowhere she should be, she loves to snuggle up on the couch with a cup of latte and a book to get lost in.

[castle-dominion]

I already watched the fairytale one so now I'm on 4x18 the doppledancer episode. a dance with death.

Wow I swear I've heard that name before Ooh latin dancing! She's dead but like idk.

Oona macaroni? water under the bridge? martha is so pretty

I love pyrotechnics. Love a short 19min window lmao that probably happens on the set of Castle too. Prop open the door so you can smoke. Btw Ryan is pretty af & wearing pink, for a while I thought it was bc he just got married but now I think it just looks good on him so he chooses to wear it. Idk. Ask Luke Reichle.

Lanie my beloved. At least she knows information on her past. Of course that's how it worked. (Here's that scene btw) KB: Hey, Ryan. Can I get a list of all the guests that were invited to tonight’s taping along with anyone that checked in at security? KR: Uh, already on it, but that’s not the only way in here. There’s an exit door to the alley down the hall. The crew guys like to prop it open so they can go out for a smoke. RC: So either our killer got lucky and found an unlocked door… KB: Or this was an inside job. LP: That gets my vote. Odette was a lock to win this thing. I bet it was one of her backstabbing rivals that did this. [The others stare at her.] LP: What? I watch the show. Odette was my favorite contestant. She was an heiress raised by her rich grandpa, a party girl headed down the wrong path, then a brush with death made her wake up and change her bad-girl ways. RC: That’s a great story. LP: Except for the ending. [Lanie indicates the body in front of them.] KR: I gotta say Dr. Parish, I never figured you for a fan of A Night of Dance. ((calls her dr parish rn, love it)) LP: I’m not exactly. It’s just… when I was young, more than anything, I wanted to be a prima ballerina. If I wasn’t dancing, I was thinking about dancing. ((Says the medical examiner working on a homicide)) RC: So what happened? LP: The girls game along when I was thirteen. [Lanie indicates her chest.] ((As a trans person who used to be very physically active but now has huge bazongas, I feel for ya Lanie)) LP: Not that many top-heavy ballerinas out there. [Castle and Ryan nod understandingly.] RC: Well, I think there should be. KB: Of course you do. RC: That’s not what I meant. Although… [Castle turns to Ryan, who nods eagerly in agreement.] ((the thing is, it's easier to dance when you don't have boobs swinging around hitting you in the chin, & then there's the eating disorders & body requirements...))

Man looks good with that shirt mostly open lol Oh esposito, making eyes at a pretty girl Ryan asked the question, she answered to esposito tho! Kinda rude tbh! *The two dancers walk away* KR: Damn. Did you see that? JE: Mm-hmm. :] KR: She acted like I didn’t even exist. JE: You don’t. Not since you put that ring on your finger. *Ryan looks at his hand* Get used to being invisible to single women. oH IS THIS THE EPISODE WHERE ESPOSITO GETS RYAN'S RING STUCK ON HIS FINGER???

Except in dance it changes your body in legitimate irreversible ways. She would have needed to dance since she was a child. Well depending on the kind of dance

This weirdo co-producer judge fellow did it I think.

It was not eddy

I like eddy though

Sketch man has a freckle tho

Ryan ex-drug cop *immediately assumed it is drugs* which to be fair is a good assumption

He does not match the sketch but he kind of matches the sketch. Generic white guy with dark hair I mean yeah it was your JOB to be concerned abt her spending

I'm guessing she bought these clothes but doesn't have any in her closet: money laundering

Beckett's smile when castle gives her coffee RC: Sounds to me like the old gas card scam. KB: What do you mean? RC: Your parents put you on a strict allowance, but they give you a gas card so you can fill your car. Well, you fill your friends’ cars, and they give you cash. *Esposito listens* Some of my buddies in boarding school nearly doubled their allowance. KB: Uh-huh. RC: Not me, of course. [Beckett gives Castle a knowing look.] RC: That… [Esposito gives Castle a knowing look, too.] RC: Don’t tell my mother. ((GIRL YOU ARE AN ADULT & YOU ARE THE ONE LETTING HER LIVE IN YOUR HOUSE)) Except why would she need to buy clothes for her friends? She doesn't have a strict allowance in that way does she? Maybe it was to make it look like she is not getting cash? Ah she has a monthly cash stipend

I'm so used to people saying yasmine when it is spelled jasmine. *find the recording immediately* See? This is why you never make death threats

Like me doing my testosterone shots KB: Who’s Brian Dunkleman? ((Transcript has link to wikipedia))

Why would you assume speed of all things? Some kinds of speed don't really work injected. That's a nice bottle tho, v big, medical grade, she is not using a spoon & a lighter here. My question is: Did you find alcohol wipes, a sharps bin, extra needle tips, or anything like that?

Oona Marconi lmao. She looks good tho. Milf af. Captions said olivier, she said olivia or maybe olivié which would make sense Oh she is happy for her & her acting studio! Years & years? Don't call her old now b'y that was ages ago oona shush Laugh it off martha laugh it off Alexis there with the knife in the pie Me, planning on becoming a culinary teacher: Rude. Though accurate, I don't like line cooking & early mornings & late nights. Those who can't hack it, find better ways of hacking it, like teaching because we get regular hours RC: Could’ve been worse. *Cut to castle with beckett* RC: It couldn’t have been worse. My mother exposed her gooey center, and Oona Marconi drove a stake through it.

Diabulemia? Or maybe not... that's not how it works

Officially she was dead... "Or did she?" Secret twins? Castle all literary lol

btw there is a deleted scene here Minyard twins No idiot it was a crime of opportunity. But lol crazy wiccan powers would be funny ok but they never ran in the same circles but OG odette was a rich girl & then a party animal so you never know

The parent trap was great! They probably have similar ancestry though, it would have been better if they were distant cousins who didn't know they were related but both had ukrainian ancestry & possibly a relative in common. Could have explained it away as trauma from the crash.

RC: Well, that sounds like something better done one-on-one, mano a mano. Meantime, I want to take a ride downtown with the boys, [starting to stand up] check out that strip club. KR: Sorry, Castle. [Ryan pushes Castle back down into his chair.] KR: Three’s a crowd. [pats castle on the shoulder] [Castle and Beckett are stunned as Ryan and Esposito walk to the elevator.] JE: What’s up? Why you freezing out our boy like that? ((our boy)) KR: I want to try an experiment. Having Castle along would mess things up. [Ryan pushes the down button and clears his throat.] KR: Here. [Ryan takes off his wedding ring and holds it out to Esposito.] ((it's a really nice ring, I'd like to see a high quality pic of it.)) KR: Wear my wedding ring. ((gay lmao)) JE: What? [looks around at any other cops bc ryan is presenting a ring to esposito & the only thing missing is one knee] Get that thing away from me, man. It’s a mood killer. KR: Just wear it when we’re at the club. JE: What for? KR: See, I’ve been talking to all my married guy friends, ((I wish we knew more about their friends outside of work)) they say that your theory is way off. [gesturing with the ring] Wearing a wedding ring gets them more attention from women, not less. JE: So…? KR: So wear the ring. [shoves it in esposito's face. Esposito leans back away from it. The elevator dings & a cop sees ryan "proposing" to esposito but just kind of shakes his head & walks away.] I want to see if women still flirt with you and ignore me. [They enter the elevator.] ((btw espt's jacket is nice & has a grey-on-grey pattern on it.)) JE: So you didn’t’ want Castle to come because… Both: All the women would flirt with him. [holds it up again as the elevator starts to move] KR: I want to know if it’s just the ring that’s repelling members of the fairer sex. JE: It’s not the ring, bro. It’s you. [ryan lowers the ring, watching esposito] See, once you’ve been married for a little while and you’re feeling a little bored and unsatisfied, [ryan nods along] the ring will get you love from the ladies. They’ll want to take you away from all that so that you can be bore and unsatisfied with them. KR, still facing esposito but not looking at his face: Why not now? JE: (chuckle) Because now you’re all blissfully happy with your wife and whatnot. [ryan nods] You have the stink of honeymoon phase all over you. No woman wants to be around that. [esposito looks ryan down & up & shakes his head slightly as if he too doesn't want to be around that & turns to look away from him] KR: How long does it last? ((Why are YOU the MARRIED one asking HIM the Very Single one abt this?)) JE: Well, it’s hard to say. [taking the ring from the top] But knowing you and Jenny, [putting it on explicitly in ryan's view, but probs for the camera tbh] probably forever. [Esposito needs to kind of push Ryan’s ring on over the knuckle. Esposito cringes at it. Ryan, still facing where esposito was standing a second ago, moves his mouth to start a sentence but doesn't say anything, then follows Espt out the elevator]

She is talking to ryan this time at least, talking to both of them. Ryan has his ringless left hand up by his chin & he frequently gestures. Remember someone paid for a nose job? hm? Esposito unfolds the sketch & hands it to her with his ringed hand

Shantell: He lived over in alphabet city. He was always running some scam, borrowing money from Barbra for some new business venture and never paying her back. But she loved him. Crazy love, you know? JE: Oh, yeah. I do. [Esposito shows her Ryan's ring on his hand.] Stl: Hm. JE: Well, you’ve been very helpful, Shantell. Thank you for your time. Stl: (to Esposito) If you wanted, you could come back later. My show starts at eight. JE: I could probably do that— KR: He’s gotta get home to the little woman, [espt flounders a bit in the background] Shantell, but we do thank you for your time and your cooperation. Stl: All right. [Shantell leaves and Ryan and Esposito head for the exit.] JE: What’s wrong with you, man? Why you gotta throw salt in my game like that? KR: You can’t pick up on honeys while wearing the eternal symbol of my love and commitment to Jenny. [Ryan stops & puts a hand out, stopping Esposito too.] KR: Did I just say that out loud? JE: Mm-hmm. KR: No wonder women won’t flirt with me. I’m a lost cause, a man in love with his wife. JE, putting his hand on Ryan's shoulder: Enjoy it, my friend. A lot of men would switch places with you. [ryan riases his eyebrows & looks at espt] Not me. Mnh-Mnh. Other men. Guys. [ryan nods with squinty sus eyes] Unhappy single guys. KR: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just give me my ring back, and you can go get Shantell’s phone number. [Esposito smiles & tries to take it off, but the ring is stuck.] JE: What the… ow. KR: What? JE: (pants) It’s stuck. KR:

Castle is sitting in the desk across from beckett today. lmao alliteration Like that time you stole a police horse while naked?

lmao faux-dette, perfect name "all of barbara" Understudy to leading lady, wow he really is martha's son

Caskett are such a good team in this interrogation here I love it So fauxdette wasn't killed for being barbara she was killed for being odette probably SEE? Barbara HAD been dancnig since she was a kid!

THE BUTLER DID IT!

[Castle rubs soap on the Esposito’s hand and Esposito tries to pry off Ryan’s wedding ring.] JE: It’s not coming off. It’s like it soldered itself onto my hand. RC: Maybe it’s possessed, you know, like some kind of cursed object from a Stephen King story. KR: How can I tell my wife that I’m not wearing my wedding ring because I lent it to Esposito as an experiment to see if strippers would flirt with me? [casle looks blankly afraid & esposito cringes] Maybe she’ll see the humor in it. ((XD)) [Castle and Esposito exchange a look.] RC: Not a chance. JE: You’re a dead man.

ALEXIS MY BELOVED Dad! Work! Boundaries! *Lanie hits alexis with the file in pride*

Poor Martha : ( Ooh man has a croissant Castle & his silly accent

True, there is a professional relationship that has boundaries between like friendships & employ. He's all sus acting like he can solve the murder. How do you know that? (Man must sleep on his back or front, you can't be on your side w/o a pillow, I personally need three things. One under my head, one under my waist to keep my back straight, & one between my knees to keep my hips & therefore back straight.) Oh, aha, he really is smart! They really left a pillow? & nobody looked into the murder? The poor man looks so afraid & sad.

Do they know it's you-know-who yet? Oh yes they do lol Why would you just throw the gun in the trash? & leave the silencer on? Those things are pricey. You should have, idk, dug a hole in the ground (concrete?) & buried it. I mean yeah that sounds even to me. Pretending to be someone else & having killed someone else... yeah that sounds even enough except you already killed someone so who cares?

True. Broken dreams does not mean your life is crap. Lanie the dancer became Dr Parish, I had wanted to be in a band or smth or do a million other things & I'm looking to become a culinary teacher...

Beckett was in a prelaw course but that's boring af, she could have done anything, she could have been a lawyer doctor cop or teacher, or she could have become an astronaut a chef (her hours prove it) a film director a volunteer manager a politician a carpenter an electrician a baker... then again I listed a bunch of trades which are not befitting of a girl like her.

[40:30, INT. PRECINCT, BULLPEN - NIGHT] [Esposito grunts as he attempts to pull off Ryan’s wedding ring.] JE: Ah, it won’t— Yeah, you know what? [Esposito checks his watch.] JE: Ooh, I’m late for my stripper date, man. ((meaning ryan let him "pick up honeys" without taking off his ring)) [Esposito gives up and starts to leave.] KR: Whoa, whoa. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I cannot go home again without that ring on my finger tonight. My couch has a loose spring. My back-- ((lmao I love how Jenny made him sleep on the couch. I hope he said he let esposito try it on & did NOT say it was to see if strippers would flirt with him)) KB: Hey, did you try soap? JE: Yeah. KR: Yeah, that was, like, the first thing we did. RC: Cooking spray? JE: I didn’t think about cooking spray. KR: Where am I gonna find cooking spray? KB: Here. [Beckett takes out her lotion and puts some on Esposito’s finger. Esposito rubs the lotion in around the ring.] JE: It’s like silk. That might work. Oh, yeah. I think it’s coming. ((Why are you pushing the ring off instead of pulling tho? That's why it does what it does)) KR: Yeah? [Esposito grunts as the ring audibly (lovely fake sound) pops off and bounces across the room. Caskett look at him. Esposito cringes. Ryan looks at him] ((Makes me think tho, how did the actors play this? Is it like Mime? Or was the ring actually just slightly the wrong size?)) JE: At least it’s off my finger. [Esposito leaves & then starts running away just in case and Ryan rushes to find the ring.]

"Inches" of column space that you should let me know (not whore him out) RC: “Be kind.” For you, Mother… I can be kind. HE REALLY DOES LOVE HIS MOM. (This is how I feel about sweeping at work. "For you [only my second real job & low on the totem pole]... I can sweep the floor." I really really genuinely hate sweeping, it is embarrassing & I'm slow & bad at it & how can you be bad at sweeping but I AM & it's awkward to hold & there are people in the way & it reminds me of hockey which I dislike... ugh I hate sweeping so much)

anyway I love that sweet sweet ending of love

& as always, thank you https://scriptline.livejournal.com/63245.html live journal transcript for being here

[ticklishtimothee]

our final night alive (simon kalivoda x reader)

summary: the reader and simon are in the bathroom together before it all goes down. and hey, since all their friends are going to “pound-town” as simon would call it, why shouldn’t they?

a/n: i just watched fear street 1994 on netflix and totally fell in love with simon, so i wrote this. i promise i’m working on the requests in my inbox as well, i just had to get this idea out while it was fresh.

words: 1,740

While Kate and Josh go into the girl’s bathroom, you and Simon figure it’s best to leave them alone. So, you follow Simon into the boy’s room, the clothes you’d snatched from the lost and found clutched tightly in your hands.

“Hey, I’ll trade you this Iron Maiden t-shirt for the cardigan,” Simon grins.

“You want to wear this thing?” you ask, raising a brow and holding up the blue knitted nightmare in your hands. You can already tell how itchy the fabric would be against your skin.

Simon nods. “I think it would really accentuate my shoulders. I’ve been told they’re my best feature,” he says, winking.

“Whoever told you that was a liar,” you reply, but toss him the cardigan anyway.

He catches it easily, then tosses you the t-shirt in return.

He wastes no time in pulling the white t-shirt over his head, and you’re thankful to see it gone. It was bad enough that he’d been wearing it for all that time, regardless of the blood stains. You avert your eyes as he strips off his jeans as well.

“Nice tighty-whities,” you mutter.

Simon snorts. “Sorry for putting practicality over fashion.”

“Says the guy putting on a girl’s cardigan to fight monsters.”

“Touché.”

You turn to face the wall, pulling your own shirt over your head, checking your torso quickly for any traces of blood. Finding none, you pull the new t-shirt on.

Out of the corner of your eye, you realize Simon still isn’t making an effort to get dressed. Instead, he’s checking himself out in the mirror, and you can’t tell if he’s goofing off or actually looking for any stains to wash off of his skin.

“You have some blood on your back,” you tell him. “Can’t tell if it’s Sam’s or yours, but better safe than sorry.”

Simon looks in the mirror, tilting his head to catch a glimpse, and furrows his brows. “I don’t see it. Help me out?”

You grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them under the sink. “Turn around.”

He does so, and you find the blood in question and wipe it off.

He jumps under the touch. “You couldn’t have used warm water?” he asks, difficult as always.

“I could let this sink run for five minutes and it’d be warm at best,” you reply. “You think this place has the budget for hot water?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

There’s a pause, and you’re still standing behind him, your eyes scanning over the pale expanse of his back, taking in each freckle. His shoulders were pretty nice, actually.

“You know you’ve gotta change your pants, too,” he says.

“Oh, right,” you say, cheeks burning. You go back to the pile of your things. When you look up, he’s watching you. “Am I allowed a little privacy?” you ask.

He smiles. “You could go into the stall.”

You roll your eyes. “Or you could turn around and not be a pervert.”

“Hey, you already saw me in my underwear,” he points out.

You scowl at him, then hook your thumbs into the waist of your pants and pull them down in a quick, fluid motion. You toe off your shoes to take them off entirely, leaving them on the tiled floor. “Happy?” you ask.

His smile fades. “What happened to your thigh?”

You look down and see the injury he’s referring to. Honestly, you’d been so caught up in everything going on, you’d barely noticed the shallow gash in your skin, but now that it was brought to the forefront of your mind, the dull ache began to settle.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I guess one of those psychos grazed me.”

Simon takes another wad of paper towels. “May I?” he asks.

You nod, and he dampens them under the faucet. “Come put your leg up to the sink.”

You do as he says, wincing at the first contact he makes with it.

“Sorry,” he practically whispers. “I don’t have anything to bandage it up with, but the least we can do is get it clean, okay?”

“Okay.”

His face is close to your bare leg, making goosebumps rise where his nose and lips brush the skin. He’s gentle with you, one hand holding your leg steady while the other dabs at the wound tenderly, and you watch as the red mess slowly begins to clear up, leaving the wound still open but no longer bleeding.

“There, that should be better,” he says. “When we find the others, maybe they’ll have something to patch you up with.”

“Thanks.”

You place both feet back on the ground, standing before Simon, both partially undressed (him more than you) and trying to hide the feelings of terror in both of your chests.

“Do you think Deena and Sam are gonna make up?” you ask. “Oh, I think they’re probably fucking as we speak,” he replies.

You give him a light smack to the back of his head. “You’ve got such a dirty mind.”

“I’m serious! Kate and Josh are probably doing it, too. The whole last-night-on-earth thing gets people horny, don’t you know?”

“Oh, so we’re all gonna be killed by some freaks, so we should be banging?” you ask.

“Are you asking in general, or about us?”

You pause. “Both.”

His cheeks flush pink, and you swear it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him embarrassed. “In general, yeah, I think it’s human instinct to seek out some pleasure before the end. As for us, well...If you’re down, I’m down.”

You stare at him for a second. “Really?”

“Only if you want to, I mean—”

You grab him by the shoulders and kiss him, effectively cutting off his rambling.

In no time, he’s pushed your back against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom, kissing you back fevertently. You thread your fingers through his blond curls, and he sighs against your lips.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and he brings a hand between your legs, fingers running over your underwear teasing, making you shiver. 

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, unable to meet your eye. “But I have a pretty good idea of what to do.”

“Me either,” you tell him. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

He nods and pulls you in for another kiss, this time rubbing you through your panties. You whine softly into his mouth.

“Does that feel good?”

“Try doing it a little gentler—oh, yes, like that…”

You can feel his hard cock against your belly as he reaches his hand down the front of your underwear. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine.”

Carefully, he finds your hole and presses one finger inside, making you clench nervously at first.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Try to relax for me,” he all but coos in your ear, and you do so.

He lets his finger slowly curl and uncurl inside you, stretching you out.

“Do you want to…?” you ask.

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

“Well, if you get me pregnant, we’ll probably be dead before it’s even got arms and legs.”

He chuckles, and you appreciate that he’s able to find humor in the fucked up things, just like you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He yanks down his underwear, and while you’d teased him about it before, the tight, white fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. Simon wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up, bringing you over to the sink and sitting you down on the brim of it.

“There’s no way this thing is gonna hold us,” you say.

“If we break it, we’ll be dead before they make us pay for the damages,” he replies, and you laugh.

He makes quick work of pulling your panties down, and they fall to the floor as he parts your knees. “Please tell me if I hurt you,” he says. “I want it to feel good.”

You nod. “I promise.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward. He misses the first time, sort of poking the head of his cock into the crease of your thigh, and you both chuckle awkwardly at the mishap. The second time, he gets closer, but his cock slides upward and between your folds, making your legs jerk in surprise.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The third time, he succeeds, and the initial stretch of his head entering you makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Should I stay still for a sec? Let you adjust?”

You nod, and so he does.

“You can move now.”

Slowly, he rocks his hips forward, and you manage to take more of him. Without you asking, he waits again, letting you get used to the feeling.

Your nails dig into his back. “You can go, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Simon, I’m sure,” you reply.

“Alright, I’m just double-checking!”

He fucks you carefully, his own movements a bit robotic at first, but when you pull him close to lock your lips together once again, he falls into a rhythm, and your ass hurts from sitting on the stupid sink, but he feels so good, his hot breath tickling your neck as he fucks you.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I’m already—”

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. You can come, just try to pull out,” you say.

He nods, and you can see him scrunching up his face, trying to gain some control and keep from cumming. It doesn’t make him last much longer, and he pulls out just in time, and you scoot to the side in a hurry, his come landing in the basin of the sink.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I can try to finger you again, or something.”

You laugh. “Simon, it’s fine. Some dudes would have come just from seeing me in my underwear. It’s fine.”

He nods, and his forehead is slightly sweaty, hair sticking to it, and his cheeks are flushed.

“I feel bad if you die and I didn’t give you an orgasm,” he says.

“Well then let’s both try our hardest not to die, and you can give me one another time. Deal?”

He grins. “Deal.”

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2021 Day 2: Secret

Kara’s really not good at this. And admittedly, Lena isn’t great either, but Kara is definitely worse.

Lena feels Kara’s hand ghost along her lower back, her fingers grazing the material of Lena’s dress as Kara steps in close. They stand shoulder to shoulder, Kara standing closer than strictly necessary as she looks down at what Lena is working on.

Lena looks up, does a quick check of everyone else in the tower, but finds no one is paying them any attention.

“How’s it going?” Kara asks, as if it isn’t the third time in the last two hours that she’s asked the same question.

Lena presses her lips together, tries not to laugh. “Good.”

“Good,” Kara grins, eyes scanning the mess in front of them. “What’s that?” she asks, reaching out to point at a component on the desk, but as she does so, Kara’s fingers brush hers, lingering far too long for Lena to think there’s any other motive behind Kara’s gesture except she wants to be close to her.

“What are you doing?” Lena asks instead of answering, mostly to distract herself from the warmth of Kara’s hand, fighting the urge to tangle their fingers together.

“What do you mean?” Kara asks, the picture of innocence as she turns to face Lena. “Can I not say hello to my best friend?”

Kara’s close now, so close, close enough to see the freckles scattered across her cheeks, close enough that she has to use a lot of self control not to glance down at pink lips. It was already a real struggle to keep her eyes off Kara’s lips before they were dating. But now she knows what Kara’s lips feel like, what her kisses taste like, and now she really has to make an effort to keep her eyes up and not just lean forward and kiss her.

It seems like Kara loses the same battle herself, or maybe she wasn’t even trying in the first place, but blue eyes slip down and fix themselves on Lena’s mouth.

“You can,” Lena says, with another quick glance around, conscious of the fact they’re not alone. They’re meant to be keeping their relationship a secret, and it’s a secret that won’t last long if Kara keeps this up. “But best friends don’t usually stare at each other’s lips like that.”

“But we’re not just best friends, are we?” Kara asks, smile soft and God, Lena wants to kiss her so badly.

“No, we’re not,” Lena smiles, feeling stupidly happy in this moment. She’s spent every minute since Kara told her she loves her feeling stupidly happy.

“And I’ll have you know, I stared at your lips a lot before we started dating,” Kara grins. “And you didn’t notice so I don’t think anyone else will now.”

Lena laughs. “Touché.” When Kara had asked her out, she’d been entirely blindsided by the question, she’d had no idea her best friend had feelings for her. But then again, Kara had been surprised by her answer too, completely unaware of Lena’s feelings in return. “But don’t act like you also didn’t miss a few things too.”

That was only one week ago, and since then, they’ve been trying to figure out this thing between them, wanting to keep it to themselves for now without all the added pressure of their friends knowing.

“Supergirl, we have a situation downtown.”

It’s J’onn’s voice that calls out through the tower, startling them both. Lena’s almost certain Kara was going to lean forward anyway and kiss her, and Lena probably would’ve let her, secret be damned.

“Duty calls,” Kara smiles, quickly reaching out to squeeze her hand before she heads towards the balcony.

“Stay safe,” Lena calls, earning a wink and salute before Kara is gone. Lena’s gaze lingers on the empty balcony door, even though Kara could be miles away by now.

“If you two are trying to keep it a secret that you’re dating, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Lena startles again, turns to find Nia watching her with an amused expression. “I-“ Lena clears her throat. “Kara and I? Of course we’re not dating.”

Nia rolls her eyes. “You know this room isn’t that big, we could all hear your conversation.”

“I…” Lena looks around, embarrassed to see J’onn nodding as Alex jumps into this conversation too.

“We all know Kara is terrible at keeping secrets, but you’re just as bad. If you really wanted none of us to know, you definitely shouldn’t have been making out in here the other day.” Alex turns up her nose. “I did not need to see that, thank you very much.”

“And you two definitely looked like you were about to kiss just then too,” Nia says.

“That’s pretty normal though, even before you got together,” Alex adds.

“Don’t forget staring lovingly at each other! That was also pretty normal before you got together but at least now most of those looks are when you’re looking at each other, not just while the other isn’t looking,” Nia continues.

Lena is absolutely mortified, the two of them basically just talking to each other, listing all the ways that they’ve been caught. She knew it would get out soon, but she didn’t think it would take less than a week.

“Why did none of you say anything?” Lena cuts in, worried there’s even more.

Alex shrugs. “Because you two were clearly trying to hide it.”

“Even if you were both bad at it,” Nia laughs.

Lena rolls her eyes. “Okay, I get it, we’re bad liars.”

“Nah,” Alex bumps Lena’s shoulder with her own. “You two are just too in love to be able to hide it. But that is my sister,” Alex says, a sudden steel in her eyes. “If you hurt her, I hurt you.”

“I’ll do my best not to.”

“Good,” Alex nods. “And can you promise me one more thing?”

“Anything.”

“Please please never make out in here again.” Alex visibly shudders. “Or anything more than that.”

Nia is laughing again, Alex has her face screwed up, and Lena is just glad that Brainy isn’t here at the moment, it’s bad enough that J’onn is still across the room working. She wishes Kara were here for this, it would at least take some of the embarrassment away.

The bonus part though, is that when Kara returns, she won’t have to hide her feelings anymore (even if she was doing a poor job of it before).

Fic link: ao3

Series link: ao3

[taxolotl]

Their lips parted.

Oh, so much dèjá vu

That was it. George turned around immediately refusing to face DreamXD, whose expression had not changed at all. He could feel those all-seeing green eyes pinned on his back.

"Was it bad?" DreamXD remarked, tone as neutral as it could be, as if… as if nothing had just happened.

George threw his hands in the air. It hadn't been bad, it hadn't been good either. It was nothing, that's what it was. It had been just a kiss. He had no idea what he was expecting, a soul-crushing kiss? Something life-changing? It was so quick it had barely been a kiss.

"I don't know," he muttered, "I DON’T KNOW," he said raising his voice. DreamXD took a step back cautiously. He was getting frustrated. What was he even angry at? Was he expecting him to kiss him like he used to? George laughed at his own stupidity.

And now I can feel your love

He turned around to face DreamXD. Sometimes he hated looking at him. The spitting image of… him, yet so distant, so cold, so alarmingly peaceful.

"It's not him, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? It doesn’t feel like him at all," George said, hands shaking as he tried to calm down.

"But... I look like him, I sound like him," DreamXD said faintly.

"THAT DOESN’T MATTER, YOU ARE NOT HIM, OKAY?" George yelled tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t mean to yell. He shouldn’t have yelled. Eyes still watery, he looked up at DreamXD, expecting a fit of rage, a fearful face, or just him gone, having vanished in the wind. But DreamXD just looked… confused, batting those pretty lashes slowly.

"I don't get it." he slowly let out.

George smiled slowly. DreamXD was like that sometimes. An all-knowing creature! To which George had to explain the simplest things. Why do cats meow, why are flowers so pretty, how you can bake bread from scratch instead of spawning it from thin air… In this case, well, a kiss. He sat down on the ground, turned to DreamXD and gestured for him to sit beside him. When he did, George grabbed one end of his cloak and blew his nose with it. DreamXD snatched it back immediately while George laughed, and DreamXD rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have expected you to… to understand or anything. Do you even…? Have you... y’know… you probably haven't-"

DreamXD lowered his head. He seemed to be thinking. Then he smiled. George couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. The sun draped along those broad shoulders, highlighting his golden hair and making his freckled skin look like a starry sky. George sighed at such a sight. It was funny how his surroundings changed with him, DreamXD smiled and it all felt warmer, more colourful. DreamXD stared at a blue butterfly resting on his finger that George had not noticed until now.

"I did, once..." he exhaled. George looked at him astonished as if he couldn’t believe DreamXD had loved before. It made sense, he had lived for so long, yet…

"George,” he said pointing a finger at him noticing his surprised look, “gods can feel that way too, we are not so different."

"Okay no, that’s not what I-"

“Wow, you really assumed you were my first kiss? Come on George…”

“NO, I-”

DreamXD giggled and looked at George tilting his head slightly.

"I’m messing with you. God, you look so stupid,” he said lovingly, carefully brushing George’s fringe out of his face, his fingers slightly skimming George’s forehead.

Your temporary touch

“It’s okay,” he dropped his hand to his lap, “Yes George, I fell in love once. I can do that by the way, it happens,” George rolled his eyes, “He was…” His smile started to fade, “He was…”

"What?”

“I don't… I don't remember. I don’t even remember his voice,” George looked at DreamXD’s face. He looked like was struggling to grasp his thoughts, his eyes empty yet full of sorrow. “I just remember what it felt like being around him, holding him close, saying his name. What was his name?"

DreamXD stopped speaking, lost in the thousand thoughts that mind held, while George wondered if he was going to end up living the same tragedy, loving and being hurt. He had already had so much and lost it so quickly. Was it meant to be that way?

It’s a hit and run

"A curious thing, a kiss,” DreamXD interrupted the silence, snapping George back to reality, “humans feel closer to heaven, yet beings from the heavens feel so…human, so vulnerable..."

George took a deep breath. As embarrassing as it was to admit, it used to feel like that. It was as if the shape of his hands had been imprinted into George’s, his scent, his kisses peppered across his cheeks… George shook his head. That was cringe.

You go back there when you’re done

As if DreamXD was reading his thoughts he just said, "Maybe it is meant to be that way. Love being a constant agonizing what if. I don’t understand why, though…”

“Me neither. Maybe it’s about the yearning? I don’t know,” George replied. Yearning… He didn’t like the taste of that word in his mouth. He needed to change the subject quickly.

"What happened to him?" George asked with a voice that didn’t come out as his.

"I wish I could remember George, I don't... I don't know... " he said with a sad sigh.

The sun was setting and to George, it all felt incredibly silly. The way he was talking about boys, like a lovestruck teenage girl, with god himself. George couldn’t repress a smile.

"I haven't felt like that in a while," DreamXD just snatched George’s thoughts from his head and said them out loud. George looked at him, and it all froze for a second. DreamXD was nervously fidgeting with his hands, not looking at George. George grabbed his hands, and those eyes finally met his own.

“I feel that way with you,” once more George thought it and DreamXD whispered it slowly like no one else was meant to hear, just George.

And then he leans in. And he cups George’s face in his hands, and George knows he’s kissing god but it’s surprising how different it feels. It’s nothing like the first time. This is not DreamXD pretending to be him and kissing George to see if he unlocks a memory, or missed him still. It's just him kissing George because he wants to. And it's him. And their noses bump. And they giggle between kisses, and it’s all so perfect, and all thoughts seem to have disappeared, and the only sound George can hear is his own heartbeat.

DreamXD starts to pull away and George’s mouth chases those lips like it’s a need.

Don’t you want some more?

DreamXD is still cupping George’s face in his hand, slowly dragging his thumb along George’s jaw. And George closes his eyes, and he holds DreamXD’s hand in his own. He opens his eyes and meets DreamXD’s smile. It’s a sad little smile that holds all the truths George would have rather ignored. And George hates it, and he wishes he had never opened his eyes. And he doesn’t want DreamXD to speak, he wants to stay there with him in silence. But he says it.

"I love you, George. But you are not mine."

[wearywinchester]

Been Loving You

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: After never having the nerve to tell each other how you feel, an opportunity presents itself even if it takes a little work.

Requested by Anonymous: Hi! Since your requests are on. Can you write a fluff/angst dean and reader fic, they both have feelings for each other and they're too insecure to admit it. And dean flirts with another girl and introduces her to the reader, reader acts like she's fine but then cries??

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: angst, flirting, mild heartbreak, jealousy, arguing, little bit of swearing, fluff, kissing

July, 2005

The day was breezy and warm, the clouds having lessened the heat that came with being in the midst of the summer season. Even if the clouds did nothing to stave off the effect of the sun you’d like to believe it actually had been, and you refused to think otherwise or else you just might break another sweat. You were tucked away in the middle of Bobby’s property amongst a lot full of cars ranging from totaled to rusty to salvageable should he feel like getting his hands dirty that day. He didn’t.

But one person that did was Dean Winchester.

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest, staring out over the dozens of car roofs, each one holding their own story as to just how it was they got there in the first place.

“Wrench,” Dean called out at some point, an instruction you only half heard. It was growing increasingly obvious that your mind was elsewhere, that your attention was directed at the puffy gray clouds in the distance. He’d noticed, peeking his head around the Impala from where’d he’d been working under the hood for an amount of time you lost track of. “Sweetheart, wrench.”

You turned your head at the nickname, a brief look of confusion crossing your face before you realized what it was he’d said. You rolled your eyes at the look on his face, one that softened to a smile as you handed over the wrench grasped in your hand. He took it with a shake of his head and a laugh not quiet enough for you to miss, and you breathed out a sigh.

“You’re a terrible helper, you know,” he jests, voice muffled from where he stood.

“Pretty sure I didn’t ask to help you, De,” you say, leaning back against an old truck.

“Too bad,” he says, flashing you a smile all while you furrowed your brows and pursed your lips at his words.

“Why not have Sam help you? I’m sure he knows more about cars than me.”

You heard him laugh again, head shaking at your assumption that Sam had any form of a clue on how to fix a car, let alone Dean’s car. The thought of Sam under a hood had him chuckling, the idea all too humorous. He pulled back to look at you. “First of all, he definitely wouldn’t. Second of all…”

He trails off, looking at you with a half smirk on his lips.

“What?” You inquire, amused curiosity in your tone.

“Sammy’s just not you,” he shrugs, a glimmer in his eyes as he leans back over the engine.

Your smile falls for just a moment as your heart skips a beat, that very smile returning once you realize just what it was that he had said. He’s just not you. You turned away and looked over your shoulder, a pitiful attempt to hide the way you couldn’t stifle your smile, your cheeks burning at what it was that could mean. Maybe it meant something and maybe it didn’t. But either way it’d surely be stuck on your mind for a ridiculous amount of time.

But soon your attention turns back to the very person that it’s always been on, and you were bound to be teased if he’d caught you staring but the thought didn’t sound quite so bad at that moment. In your defense, it was hard not to think about much else other than the way his brows furrow when he’s stumped on just what he wants to fix next, or the way his cheeks flushed ever so lightly under the sun, his freckles all the more prominent across the bridge of his nose. Smudges of grease had stained his t-shirt, painted across his knuckles and smeared on his forehead each and every time he’d wiped the sweat off with the back of his hand.

Maybe it was that, or maybe it was the way his necklace had dangled down and swung there until he finally got irritated enough to tuck it in his shirt with a mumble of a swear and a clench of his jaw. That was something, though—no matter how frustrated repairing this beloved car of his made him, no matter how much he huffed and puffed and tossed his tools down with a bit more force than necessary. It was the way his anger seemed to melt each time he’d looked at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile before he turned to try again with a better attitude.

Yeah, that was it.

You hadn’t realized just how distracted you’d been until you felt a hand on your cheek, calloused and warm, and when you looked up your eyes met the taunting green gaze of the older Winchester staring down at you. Your breath caught in your throat as the pad of his thumb brushed along your cheek, cheeks that burned under his palm and the way he’d been gazing had your heart pounding in your chest. Racing until you saw the familiar quirk pulling at his lips.

“Got a little somethin’ on your face,” he says, smiling an all too knowing smile.

You roll your eyes, turning away from him with a huff as you begin to walk away. “I’m eating the last slice of pie for that.”

You heard the metallic clink of a tool leave his hand and hit the ground, “no—no you’re not! That has my name on it and you know it.”

You shake your head as you quicken your pace, a smile on your lips as the butterflies in your stomach remain.

October, 2005

You stood in the small, one person bathroom, back to the mirror as you leaned against the small porcelain sink. The tears were already rimming your eyes as you stood there, having been at that same restaurant for forty-five minutes waiting for your date to show up even though you knew it’d been a bust after you’d waited the first fifteen minutes. You were miserable and embarrassed, and this was the exact reason you didn’t like going on dates in the first place.

Your hand was shaky as you pressed Dean’s name, holding your phone up to your ear as it rang all but two times.

He’d make a joke when he answered the phone, something you more than expected by that point each and every time you called him, especially when he knew you were on a date with a guy he’d been poking fun at the whole ride to the restaurant until he’d dropped you off. You couldn’t blame him, maybe you could, but that was just in his nature and there was no changing that.

“Was brown eyes that boring?”

His laugh sounded on the other end, lighthearted and upbeat in a way that had a soft huff leaving your lips as you rolled your eyes at his words.

“Dean,” you grumble, letting your eyes fall closed for a moment.

“Oh, come on. You know I’m not wrong. I just—”

“Dean.”

The simple use of his name that time had effectively cut him and his teasing short, leaving a beat of silence as you swallowed thickly now that you had his full attention. You didn’t even need to see him to be able to picture just what kind of expression he’d been wearing at the moment.

“Can you come pick me up?”

You hated how fragile your voice sounded, something you immediately cover up as you clear your throat in a pitiful attempt to distract him from it. You knew it wouldn’t but it was worth the effort anyway, anything to ease the fact that it must have been obvious that you were hurting.

It’d been all of ten minutes before the rumble of an engine came into earshot as you sat on the curb that bordered the restaurant, gathering more than a few stares of people showing up with their dates in tow. You knew it must have been obvious what you were moping about. The headlights were near blinding as he pulled up next to you, and you were on your feet in an instant as you sulked to the car and slumped in your rightful seat. Your misery was more than evident to him as he sat in the parking lot for a minute much to your dismay.

“Are you okay?” He asks, louder than he meant to be as he gave you a once over.

“Peachy.”

He rolls his eyes. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my ego,” you mumble with a huff, though you soften at the concern sounding in his voice. “‘M fine, Dean.”

His jaw tensed as he looked at you, lingering on the glimmer on your cheeks from the fresh tears you’d tried to wipe away. At the way your bottom lip quivered in a way that was all too telling that you weren’t peachy, you couldn’t be farther from it.

He hadn’t even wanted you to go on that date in the first place, jealousy having simmered in the pit of his stomach since the moment you told him about it. He didn’t even need to see the guy to know he wasn’t good enough for you, that he was up to no good. He hated the tone of your voice when you called him, he hated that he was right. Not that he thought he was good enough for you, not even remotely did he think that, but when you told him about brown eyes, he wanted to be selfish and have you to himself for the night. He wanted to be the one to take you out on that date.

“He’s a dick,” he said quietly, anger woven around his words as he looked at you. “And he damn sure doesn’t deserve you.”

You looked down at your lap, picking at the loose string of your dress. “Can we please go?”

He looked at you as you went and looked out of the window, jaw clenching even tighter as he gave you one more glance. He put the car in drive without another word, tires squealing as he sped out of the parking lot, headed back towards the motel.

March, 2006

The sticks cracked beneath two pairs of muddied boots, the sound near deafening in contrast to the silence amongst the woods you and Dean had found yourself in. It wouldn’t have been quite so bad if you knew where you’d been going even just a little bit, and it wouldn’t have been quite so bad if the sun wasn’t dipping lower and lower into the sky. Not to mention the fact that Dean was simmering in his own anger, and you were fairly certain that you were the cause. In fact, you knew you were.

The light rain that sprinkled over you ever so slightly through the trees hadn’t done very much to work in your favor, though you don’t think anything could at this point. Especially not the scrape grazing your cheek.

“Would you quit huffing? We’ll find a way out of here,” you finally say, nearly smacking into his back when he stops in front of you.

“Right, because we’re totally not stuck in the middle of freakin’ nowhere. If it weren’t for you we’d be out of here by now,” he snaps, brows furrowed deeply as he looks down at you.

“Oh, so this is my fault now?”

He laughed then, humorless as he looked away and shook his head, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. You knew he was dangerously close to snapping, more than he already did, but even then you couldn’t find it in yourself to tread lightly.

“If I recall correctly, it was your brilliant plan to go and run off and chase a werewolf all by yourself in the woods. You went and got yourself hurt and you nearly got yourself killed. That seems a lot to me like how we got into this mess, doesn’t it, Y/n?”

“Dean—”

“You’re lucky you only came out of there with a scrape on your cheek and a busted lip.”

Your brows knit together and your fists clench, nearly on the verge of tears with how frustrated you’d been at the green eyed Winchester fuming in front of you. “Why are you so mad? I’m here aren’t I?”

He looked as if you’d asked the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard in his life. “Mad? Why am I so mad? You went out there today like you’re invincible. I’m angry because I—”

He cut himself short then, shaking his head as he looked away from you. Those three words were so close on the tip of his tongue he nearly made a fool of himself, his heart pounding and a huff puffing through flared nostrils as you nearly watched him unravel in front of you. The crease between your brows deepens as you watch his inner turmoil, fists relaxing at your sides.

“Forget it,” he says, just as frustrated as he plays it off and looks down at you just briefly. His jaw clenches once more before he hikes his bags up further in his shoulder, grabbing your hand and turning his back to you. “Can’t have you getting lost on me again.”

You roll your eyes but not once did you pull your hand from his.

July, 2006

Your eyes rolled for what had to be the millionth time that night as you slumped further down in your seat, your eyes lingering on the older Winchester and the girl he’d been flirting with at the bar counter for the last half an hour. Sam had caught on to the source of your misery not long after it began, but between the pout you tried so desperately to hide and the way it started right around the time his brother started talking to the pretty girl serving drinks just a few feet away, it wasn’t hard to figure out.

“Am I boring you?” Sam jests, closing the book of notes and newspaper clippings he’d been working from for the next hunt. Your gaze lifts from the table to meet his gaze, unamused by his teasing. “You know, instead of sulking, you could tell him how you feel.”

You snort as you sit up in your seat, dragging your hand down your face. “Sam, that might be the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.”

“Oh, come on. Would it be so bad?”

One glance over your shoulder had your stomach churning and twisting in knots, your gaze moving back to the brunette with the bad ideas. “Yes Sam, it would be terrible.”

The more you sat at that table the less you wanted to be there, the music having grown far too loud for your liking as a headache began to form. This wasn’t the first or the second time you’d been to this bar, it was the third because Dean had eyes for the beautiful bartender. Your food was nearly completely untouched and your drink the same, though you were starting to think it might be a good idea to go ahead and down it but there wasn’t nearly enough time to do that and get another argument in with Sam before that ever familiar voice got your attention.

“Everyone,” he starts, smiling ear to ear as his arm wrapped around her. “I’d like you to meet Julie.”

His grin was beaming as she laughed into his neck, whispering something in his ear that you surely didn’t want to know. Sam’s smile in your direction was as empathetic as ever, your heart sinking down to your stomach as you swirl your straw in your drink. The room was rapidly becoming more suffocating and stuffy, the commotion near nauseating as the pressure behind your eyes deepened. You couldn’t be there another moment.

“I’m feeling a little tired, I—I think I’m gonna go,” you say as you swallow down the lump in your throat, sudden as you rise from your seat and grab your bag.

The smile on Dean’s face fell slightly, brows furrowing. “You okay?”

“‘M fine,” you say, offering a smile as you brush past the pair in favor of making your way to the door.

The outside air, though not very much cooler than the bar, felt better on your skin as you clutched the strap of your bag. The tears that welled in your eyes wasted no time in spilling over your cheeks now that you were alone, lip quivering pitifully as the hurt in your heart seeped out in waves and made your tears fall faster. They rolled down your heated cheeks and raced along the length of your neck, gathering on the collar of your shirt one after another.

Falling in love with your best friend doesn’t seem so bad until it breaks your heart.

September, 2006

Of all the people to be trapped in a storm with, Dean Winchester isn’t one you’d wanted it to be. The rain had been coming down so hard you could barely see the Impala parked outside the motel room. The wind whipping around had cut the power, effectively stealing your chances of busying yourself with some tv to take your mind off of anything other than the man you shared a room with.

Locking yourself in the bathroom would certainly be an option you’d weighed over more than once in your mind, but the thought of sitting alone in a small room with absolutely no source of light hadn’t been something that enticing to you. The only light in the motel room was the frequent flash of lightning and Dean’s flashlight before the batteries died.

“When’s this storm supposed to die down?” He asked from his bed, getting up to peek out through the blinds.

“Why? You late for a date with Julie?”

It’s quiet for a few moments, the blinds snapping back once he lets go of them and you could feel his stare on you as you looked up at the ceiling from your spot on your bed. Your jaw clenched as another flash of lightning illuminated the room, a booming crack of thunder soon to follow it. You were just waiting for what he had to say.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” There it was.

“I think it’s pretty clear,” you say, tone as witty as it’d been for the last who-knows-how-long.

“We broke up a month ago, Y/n. ‘M surprised you don’t already know that. You know, since you’re the know it all of the friendship.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you, a huff falling past your lips. “Quit it, Dean.”

“What is your problem, Y/n? You’ve been actin’ funny for weeks and it’s driving me crazy. You’re taking every chance you get to get away from me,” he says, anger woven around his every word as his voice raises over the thunder.

“I can’t exactly do that right now,” you say, rolling over on your side as you avoid his question and turn your back to him instead.

You heard him laugh to himself, one void of humor as the springs of his mattress squeak under his weight as he sat down. Your jaw tenses once more as you huff through your nose, loud enough for him to hear as you tried your best to make yourself comfortable for the night.

The emotions clouding your mind were bound to boil over at some point before the night is over now that you’d been stuck with the source of your heartache and you weren’t sure if you’d rather stay or walk through the downpour coming down outside. The more you thought on it, the more you thought better of it despite how tempting it may have been.

The simple sight of him had tugged at your heart, making you think of just how foolish it was to fall for your best friend, or perhaps even more so that you hadn’t told him before. You couldn’t get Sam’s words out of your head no matter how hard you tried. If Sam of all people thinks you should have then maybe it wouldn’t have been a bad idea to put your heart on the line. Maybe you should’ve said it, you certainly had plenty of opportunities to do it. But it didn’t matter anymore, not really, your heart was heavy and your mind was heavier as you sulked and moped in your own misery.

You pushed away your own best friend and it was time you’d never get back, all because you had feelings you couldn’t swallow down. But they were always there, and now they’d gone and boiled over.

“You wanna know why it didn’t work out between us?” He asks, sudden as his question cuts through the quiet in the room save for the ongoing storm. You don’t say a word, laying still as your gaze is fixed on the wall and your back remains to him. You don’t know what he could possibly say or what it was supposed to make you feel but you couldn’t find it in yourself to press for an answer. If he told you, fine, but if he didn’t—

“It didn’t work because she wasn’t you.”

You stilled even more if that was possible, your heart skipping more than a few beats as your brows furrow. You were utterly baffled, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly or if it was some dream you’d been having that you were bound to wake up from. Your movement was sudden as you sat up and turned around, the faint bit of light illuminating the expression you held.

“What?”

He sat across from you on the edge of his bed, brows knit together in the dim lighting. He laughed softly as he looked at his hands, shaking his head. He stood to his feet and ran his hands through his hair, pacing a bit before he stood still.

“You’re my best friend, Y/n. You’re a pain in the ass, sure, but you’re my best friend,” he starts, your lips pursing as he cracked a smile. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it lately, I really don’t. But I’ve been lovin’ you since I was sixteen and it took me ten years and a month full of you ignoring me to see it. She’s not you, Y/n.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He laughed softly, rubbing his face and releasing a sigh.

“Because, my life isn’t exactly a chick flick where the guy gets the girl of his dreams, is it, sweetheart? It’s more of a tragic Lifetime movie where the guy’s best friend falls for someone else,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he looked at his feet.

You swallowed thickly as you looked at him, cheeks burning and stomach filled with butterflies that raged in your stomach. You were at a loss for words as you sat there, starting to wonder for the second time that night if what you were hearing was a dream. Dean Winchester, your best friend, the one you’d spend the better part of ten years pining after, was in love with you. You couldn’t grasp that thought. Not that you had much time to before he spoke up.

“Sweetheart, please say something. I know you’re mad at me but right now I’m starting to feel a little bit like a complete idiot and I—”

Before he could finish you’d already stood to your feet and grabbed the collar to his leather jacket, your lips on his without second thought. It took him by surprise for just a moment before his hands settled on your face, his smile pressing into your lips. You pulled away for just a second, his lips lingering over yours in hopes you wouldn’t stray too far. You wouldn’t, just enough for you to say one more thing.

“You are an idiot.”

He huffed out a soft laugh as his breath brushed warmly against your lips, hands dropping from your face in favor of pulling you closer before he dipped down and kissed you again.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes

[nocturne-overtures]

Kinktober Day 5-Bad Influences

Pairing: Lee Minhyuk (BTOB)/Lee Felix

Prompt: Daddy Kink, Spanking, Cumming From Punishment

WC: 2k+

Genre(s)/AU(s): Smut, Idolverse, Fluff

TWs: Swearing

SWs: Daddy Kink, Pet Names, Spanking (Hand and Paddle), Marking (Imprints), Bratty Sub, Teasing, Semi-Public, Sexual Punishment, Stoplight System, Dominant Idol, Submissive Idol, BDSM Overtones, Praise Kink, Pain Kink, Crying, Aftercare

Everything here is Safe, Sane, and Consensual as always, folks

A/N: I also have the tagged folks according to your preferences so if you’re someone who asked to be tagged in btob works, skz works, or both and included member x member works, then beep boop you’re gettin tagged. Also this is set during Kingdom filming

AO3

New! taglist moved to the bottom of the work. if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this or my other works, feel free to fill out the form here after reading the full post. ©Nocturne-Overtures. do not repost, translate, or use my works.

Kinktober 2021 Masterlist

Day 4                  Day 6

Network Pings: @kdiarynet @kwritersworld @kpopscape

Minhyuk was many things. 

Easily riled up, was not one of them. 

No, he was a very meticulous man. Took his time analyzing situations with a deceptive smile on his face, feigning aloofness while he sorted his thoughts. 

Think, before you act. Always. 

It was a lesson Felix hadn’t quite grasped yet, deciding he was going to follow after his friends’ footsteps and try provoking Minhyuk into action. 

Had he been learning bad behaviours from Wooyoung, Sanghyuk, and Sunwoo? Definitely. 

Unfortunately for Felix, Minhyuk had the benefit of age and experience on his side. He loved his boyfriend, no doubt, but he wasn’t so swooned and whipped that he’d crack like San. He wasn’t a switch in any capacity, so the tables didn’t get turned on him like with Youngbin. And he surely didn’t get flustered or caught out by misbehaviour like Sangyeon. 

So when Felix took to subtly brushing against him as they passed backstage for filming, when he sent him suggestive photos while changing costumes, the times he’d appear at Cube, an innocent smile on his freckled face as he sat directly in Minhyuk’s lap, pouting and chattering about how much he wished he could have fun with Minhyuk whenever he wanted like the others-

Minhyuk only hummed, kissing the top of Felix’s head. Today they were in the older man’s home, resting before the upcoming field day event.

“We only have a few more weeks of filming. I’ll be sure to stop by more often.”

“I mean...we have time now so-”

Felix pouted and looked up, shifting beside him on the couch, his freckled cheeks slightly puffed out. 

“Are you going to keep doing that?”

Minhyuk cocked a brow. 

“Doing what?” 

“Not…” Felix trailed off, making a small frustrated noise. Minhyuk cocked a brow, an amused noise leaving his lips. 

“Not what, baby? Fucking you?” 

Felix nodded and Minhyuk set the pen he had in his hand down, closing the notebook to the raps he was writing and humming. 

“Why do you think I haven’t fucked you, Felix?”

“I don’t know! I’ve been trying and-” he cut himself off, lips pursing.

Minhyuk couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips, a deep rumble resonating from his chest as he looked at Felix in amusement. 

“C’mon to my room. I’ll tell you why it didn’t work.” 

Felix perked and nodded eagerly, hustling after him, practically on Minhyuk’s heels. 

How he ended up here, sprawled out across Minhyuk’s lap with the older man humming and rubbing his ass was another story. Felix blushed, looking up, expecting Minhyuk to finger him and prep him. Instead, he had his head lightly tilted up, looking into Felix’s eyes. 

Instantly, the younger man realized-finally-that he may have been in trouble, eyes widening. 

“Um-”

“Would you like to explain now? Or would you prefer to take your punishment as I explain to you what you did wrong?"

Felix shrunk a bit, cheeks flared. 

“I can let you go and let you explain yourself. Or I can spank you and I tell you why you’re in trouble.”

Felix looked into his eyes. Minhyuk never moved his gaze from his. He was giving him a choice. He always did. Felix looked back, finding a small leather paddle sitting beside Minhyuk’s thigh while his large hand lie rested on Felix’s ass, unmoving for now. 

He shied and nodded. 

“I’m staying here.” 

“Do you remember our system?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Minhyuk nodded, a pleased sound leaving his lips. 

“Good.” 

He grabbed the paddle, rubbing Felix’s ass in circles before he brought the paddle down hard on his ass. Felix jolted and yelped, though Minhyuk kept him in his lap with his free hand wrapped securely around Felix’s waist. 

“You don’t have to count this time. But Daddy wants you to know that following after the other Brats is why that pretty ass is in trouble.”

Felix yipped at the second, then third hit, cheeks flushing as he felt the leather rub over his sore cheek between Minhyuk’s talking. 

“I j-just wanted you t-to….to…” He flushed and lowered his head. Minhyuk tapped his ass with the paddle. 

“Lift your head. You wanted me to what?”

“F-fuck me. They...they said being bratty and teasing works all the time for them and-fuck!” He cursed and jolted when his untouched cheek was struck, Minhyuk’s grip still strong around his waist. 

“There’s a difference between their Doms and Daddy, kitten.” he lightly scolded, his voice never going above the volume of his normal speaking tone. Felix bowed his head down. 

“S-sorry, Daddy.” Minhyuk hummed and rubbed his ass. 

“Are you?”

Felix nodded before whimpering and dropping his head once more when another hard spank fell to his ass. He could feel something on the paddle, like...an outline? Though the paddle was never pressed to his sore ass long enough for him to distinguish what it is. Minhyuk took care to rub him between spanks with the smooth end of the paddle. 

“Pick your head up, baby.” Minhyuk reminded him. Felix shuddered and muttered a quick apology before Minhyuk paused. 

“Are you alright?”

Felix nodded. 

“What’s your color, baby?”

“Green.” 

Minhyuk kissed his head before he continued. 

“I’m not San, or Youngbin, I’m not Sangyeon either. Who am I?”

“Minhyuk-hyung.”

A light tap to his ass from the paddle had Felix’s hips jolt, anticipating a full hit before he blushed. He realized he was hard, his cock pressed fully against Minhyuk’s leg. 

When had he gotten hard?

“Who am I, Felix?” He asked again. 

“M-My Daddy.” 

“Good. So Daddy is going to tell you, the best way to get him to fuck you, is to ask.” the paddle was discarded without a word, Minhyuk’s calloused hand squeezing and kneading both of Felix’s cheeks. 

“I won’t reward you with my cock for being a brat, Felix.” he scolded him, his hand coming down on Felix’s left cheek. A scream of surprise left his mouth and he nearly scrambled out of Minhyuk’s lap, his cock jumping against the fabric of the older man’s gym shorts. Minhyuk loosened his grip, giving him the chance to get out of it if he wanted to. 

Felix shook his head and settled back down, slightly panting as tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. 

“Color?”

“G-Green.”

Minhyuk hummed, sitting in silence for a few minutes, just groping and kneading the heated skin under his hand. Felix kept his head up like asked, though his thighs shook from his position across Minhyuk’s lap. The older man took notice, pulling him forward a bit more, spreading his long legs so he could support Felix a bit better. 

Once Felix had stopped shaking as much, Minhyuk continued. 

“Do you want to be a brat, Felix?”

Felix shook his head, groaning at the next spank, the tears rolling down his cheek as he clenched and unclenched his fists. 

“N-No, Daddy!”

“No? Not gonna try and be like Sunwoo and grind on me backstage like he does with Sangyeon?” 

Felix shook his head quickly, his hair stuck to his face and neck from the sweat that began to build up on his body. 

“What about sitting in my lap during meetings with the others? Mmm? Is it fair to tease Daddy like the others do? Do you think you should have my cock after being such a tease like that?” he inquired. Felix shook his head once more, biting his lip and all but thrusting against Minhyuk’s leg with the next jolt from his spank, his entire body flushed. 

He’d gotten hard, painfully so. Part of him feared he’d cum just from this. 

“D-Daddy-”

Minhyuk’s hand froze midair, attentive brown eyes looking down immediately. 

“What is it, baby? Do you want to stop?”

“N-No I…M...maybe? I feel like I’m going to cum and I don’t wanna be bad.”

Minhyuk’s eyes twinkled with mirth. 

“You’re gonna cum from your punishment?”

Felix shook his head quickly, embarrassed. 

“Felix. Be honest baby.” 

He flushed before nodding a moment later. 

“Do you want to cum?” 

He lifted his head, looking back at him with big eyes still teary from the pleasured pain thrumming through his cheeks. 

“I was bad.”

“I think you learned your lesson, personally. So I’ll ask you again. Do you want to cum?”

Felix nodded. 

“Yes, Daddy, please?”

“See? Those are the manners Daddy is looking for.” Minhyuk grabbed a few pillows, letting Felix rest his head on them before he resumed his spanking, growling between each strike. 

“Your ass looks pretty like this, baby. The red makes your freckles stand out. Go ahead, you can cum for me.” 

Felix could barely decipher his words between the sound of skin hitting skin and his own moaning and pleasured cries, his cock painfully hard between his legs. Minhyuk had growled something in particular, along the lines of Felix being his ‘cute pain slut’ before the younger man saw stars, cumming messily all over Minhyuk’s lap, his legs and thighs shaking as he nearly slipped to the floor from the force of it. 

Minhyuk held him tighter, keeping him steady as he picked him up, laying with Felix settled in his arms. 

He was careful, brushing Felix’s hair back and cooing sweet nothings to him as he sobbed against his chest. 

“You’re alright, baby boy. You did well for me.”

“B-But I was a brat-”

“Mmm. You were. And you took your punishment well. So, you’re a good boy. Hey, look at me,” Minhyuk waited until Felix’s sniffles subsided into little hiccups, the pained pleasure an overwhelming first time feeling for him. Minhyuk wiped his cheeks and kissed him gently. 

“You did so well. Let Daddy take care of you, okay?”

Felix nodded and held onto his arms as he stood, carrying him off to shower off. Minhyuk laughed and waved off the hasty apologies as Felix noticed him putting his shorts in the wash. 

“Don’t apologize to me, baby boy.” 

One magnolia scented, aloe-infused bath later, and Felix was on his stomach, eyes closed as Minhyuk gently massaged lotion over his cheeks. 

He was careful of his strength and there was no skin broken, but Felix had noted-in sheer delight-that Minhyuk’s paddle actually did have indentations, and they actually were hearts. Now his freckled bottom sported not only Minhyuk’s handprint to the left and a row of hearts to the right. 

“So...I think I have a spanking kink.” Felix mused tiredly as Minhyuk got him settled on his chest, putting on Deadpool for them to enjoy, since it had been one of Felix’s favorites. Minhyuk laughed and kissed him, holding his waist once he was sure Felix was warm and covered by the blanket. 

“I noticed.”

-xoxo-

So the field day was a completely different experience. 

Minhyuk felt a sense of pride as Felix waddled forward amongst the cheers that he had been voted as one of their top three visuals. The man looked around, pointing at himself through his slightly overgrown sweater and the older couldn’t hold back the happy exclamation of Felix’s name as he shuffled forward. 

He genuinely was surprised when they announced him for the number one of their visual kings, but he took it nonetheless, catching Felix mimicking his showboating from the corner of his eye.

How cute.

“They ended up voting for each other!”

Minhyuk turned, pointing at Felix as the younger man bowed deeply, flustered at having been chosen. 

He should have known Minhyuk would’ve chosen his baby boy above all else, but that’s beside the point. 

“Hey Felix, good boy.” 

Felix flushed and bowed again, and Minhyuk was approached later as they began to help staff clean up, the sun having gone down and the festivities over. 

“Hyung?” 

Minhyuk looked up at him, tilting his head. 

“Yes, Felix-ah?” he inquired, glancing around. The others were busy hustling to help staff so they could all rest up, leaving the two relatively alone. Felix adjusted his pink sleeves and looked up at him. 

“Uh...can I come over this weekend? For...um…’practice?’”

Minhyuk took it for what it was, a proud and knowing smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Yeah, of course.”

Taglist----

@not-majestic-bluenicorn @kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @queenofhimbos @daisyhwa @gettin-a-lil-hanse @yunhofingers @stormiestories @billboard-singer @sweetutopia @lovely-devil6 @babiebumm @jacksons-goddess-gaia @storytimedragon @netcookie @seomisaho 

[k00giie]

No One Quite Like Her

Kang Sae byeok x GN reader

❝ i found love in a hopeless place ❝

Warning: angst, death episode 6 spoilers!!!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

⚛︎the thought of falling in love at a place where death loomed around every corner and being together was impossible, wasn’t exactly an ideal circumstance...

⚛︎ yet here you were, falling head over heels for a girl that you couldn’t even name. The only thing you could adress her by was the pale white number patch on her turquoise blue jacket. Number 067, the girl who had seemed to stole your heart without even speaking to you at all.

⚛︎you had sense made it your goal to stay as far away from her as possible, but when one day while sitting alone, she approached you. Her deep chocolate eyes with dark circles under them, lazily gazing up at you. In a husky voice she asked, more of a statement than a question. “Join me?” Her hand stretched out in a welcoming manner, though her expression remained flat.

⚛︎without a second thought you found your hand in her’s. Her calcoused palm and slim fingers gently gripped your hand, giving it a light shake to seal the partnership. Your heart fluttered in your chest as her eyes met yours. Her short choppy bangs hanging just above her sharp eyes. Though as soon as the contact happened, it ended as she took her hand back, slipping it into her jacket pocket and strolling off.

⚛︎next you knew you were sitting in a circle of people awaiting instructions for your next game.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

⚛︎you had lived. You made it through another game. And oh hell were you so thankful that the goddess herself had invited you to join her. Who knew where you’d be if she hadn’t. In hell probably...

⚛︎you absently followed behind 067, as everyone began to collect their food rations for the evening. You didn’t know why you followed her all the way back to her bed, but here you were. Standing above her as she tiredly muched on a piece of bread, smothered in butter.

⚛︎ “if your planning to kill me you’re doing a shit job.” She finally spoke. Her head remained down, too busy to even look up. “Luckily I’m not here to kill you.” You replied taking a seat down on the edge of her bed. Her eyes widened slightly as she moved further away from you, ready to kill if need be.

⚛︎ “whats your name?” You asked turning to face her. She scowled. “Why?” You shrugged with a small smile. “Kang Sae-Byeok.” She spoke with a small growl in her tone. “I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” You replied. You finally knew her name... “why are you here?” You asked, so casually as if it wasn’t a huge invasion of privacy.

⚛︎she glared at you. You felt your breath catch in your throat as you gulped. If looks could kill, you’d be a goner. “Never mind, that was rude of me to ask.” You let out a soft chuckle. “Sorry.” You apologized as she looked away from you, her knee brought up to her chin. That was all you got out of her. You got up uncomfortable and left to go to your own bed.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

⚛︎the morning bell rung through your ears. what a way to wake up. You rubbed your head and followed the orders the masked men gave you. Was it bad that this had become your new normal?

⚛︎ ordered to pair up, the thought of Sae-byeok immediately came to mind. Your eyes scanned the room for any trace of the freckle faced girl. Luckily you found her leaning up against the wall, hands in her pockets and eyes dull and tired. You couldn’t understand how someone in these circumstances could still be so utterly breathtaking.

⚛︎ “pair up with me?” You asked, sounding as certain as you could. Your hand was now the one extended towards her cold aura. “And why would I?” She replied. “Because I’ll make sure you win, no matter what.”

⚛︎ she has reluctantly agreed. You shook her hand, but this time you didn’t let go. As the masked men gave you all instructions, guns loaded and pointed at your heads. You still kept your hand grasping hers. She didn’t complain.

⚛︎ the sight of artificial orange painted sky’s was almost as beautiful as the real thing. It seemed as if it was just a taste of the outside for what you would soon know to be your last. As the speaker from above told you that only one of the people in the pairs would make it out alive, a pit formed in your stomach.

⚛︎ you dropped her hand from your grasp, as your eyes fell to the dirt that your feet kicked at. Sae-byeok didn’t speak either. Not that she did much anyways. You took a seat on the stairs, patting a seat beside you. She carefully sat down beside you, an unreadable expression on her chiseled features.

⚛︎ “what will we play?” Sae-byeok asked breaking the silence. “Slow down, we got time.” You hummed. “Let’s end it in just one round. Until then...” you thought of what to say next. “Let’s just chat, like one of use isn’t about to kick it.” You said mustering up a smile. She gave a slight nod, hands clamped together in her lap. She didn’t look all that pleased about one of us dying either.

⚛︎ it was your chance now. To get to know who she was. You asked her questions, real personal ones and she answered honestly. You could hear the hurt in her tone as she talked about her family. At some point you found that the two of you had moved closer together, your thighs now touching and your hand resting on her shoulder as comfort as she vented.

⚛︎ nextly she asked about you. She wanted to know more about you, and you couldn’t help but spill your guts out over all the things you’d never told anyone. Now she was the one who had a hand placed on your lower back in comfort, as your eyes became glossy.

⚛︎ you glanced up at the clock. Time was running short. Only about 5 minutes left. You abruptly stood up, startling the calm and composed female beside you. “Let’s get our game started.” You suggested, she gave a nod, standing up beside you. “Who ever can throw the marble closer to the wall will win.” You explained in a calm tone.

⚛︎ “you can go first.” You gave a reassuring half hearted smile as you knew what would be coming next. Sae-byeok rolled her marble across the dirt, close to the wall. “Good job! My turn.” You bent down pretending to care, then dropping the marble only a few centimeters in front of you. “Oops, it slipped. Looks like you win.” Her eyes darkened...

⚛︎ “do it again.” She ordered. “Looks like you won.” You forced another smile, but your eyes were dull and teary. Her hands grabbed roughly onto your collar, pushing you against the brick wall. “Is this what you meant when you said I’d win if I teamed up with you?” Her voice wavered as her brows furrowed angrily. You shrugged. Sweat dropped from her face and her jaw clenched.

⚛︎ tears trickled from her eyes, down her flushed cheeks. You could feel you were now crying too. “If this is it let me tell you one more thing.” Your hand reached out to cup her cheek. Your thumb rubbed under her eye, brushing away the flowing tears. Her eyes widened as you leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. You wished it could’ve lasted longer but you knew your time was up. “Get out of here alive for me, okay?” Your hands lingered on her face before slipping to your sides once again.

⚛︎ a masked man approach you with a gun loaded, ready to end your life with a single shot. “Don’t look.” You whispered as you gently pushed her away. Her back turned towards you reluctantly. “Thanks, for playing with me.” Was your last words as tears spilled uncontrollably from your hues. The gun’s boom echoed across the plain,ending your life. That was the last thing you’d ever hear, and the last sight you’d ever see was the girl’s back, who you had fell in love with.

⚛︎ if only you could see her face, smiling. Just one last time...

[honeypiehotchner]

My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end 

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

[cdroloisms]

i think that although the theories/aus of puffy's son dream and wil's brother dream are interesting to think about, especially the implications, the (probably) canon statement that he really has no family to me hits the hardest. because it's just dream, you know. his friends hate him, he has none (p relatable), but i can't really imagine,, both not having friends and not having a family. that's kind of what keeps a lot of us sane and okay ( - quill anon (same anon from the c!tubbo c!wil ask) )

ouch quill anon ,, this ask Hurt. it’s true - usually, it’s our family and friends that keep us going, that are the ones that we fight for and live for and love for. c!dream’s “family” was his reasoning behind ,, a lot of the stuff he did, good or bad, and even now you can hear his desperation in getting someone, anyone to visit sometimes, in wanting to know how people are doing outside the cell. 

at the same time, he’s a character very much defined by his solitude, by his isolation, by all of the time he has spent,, alone. by the alliances that had been broken, betrayed, forgotten. by how- at the end of the day - he sits for hours on end in an obsidian box with nothing but his thoughts to accompany him. it’s awfully ,, sad, despite everything he’s done. through it all, he’s alone. he survives the horrors of the vault (until this current arc) alone. nobody’s there to hear his thoughts. nobody knows his mindset, or feelings, or wants, or anything that really makes him human. for someone so driven by people, he spends so much time completely isolated - and it’s. honestly really, really tragic. 

anyway, this is a sad little drabble set pre-roommates arc abt c!dream in the prison, alone, bc he makes me Sad. 

tw: mentioned torture, abuse, violence, broken bones, blood, injuries, mental deterioration, isolation, panic attacks, self-deprecation, trauma, memory loss, death, contemplations of death, dark content, dark imagery

The blank book in his hand stares at him stubbornly, the stark white of the untouched pages nearly burning his eyes, used to the dark walls and floor of the cell. Dream’s hand shakes around his quill, ink splotches marring the pages from where his too-unsteady hand had let the nib brush against the paper and left freckles of black spots behind. He pulls his thumb back from the bottom left corner, hissing slightly when it leaves a dull red fingerprint behind, a smudge of half-dried blood further dirtying the paper.

He’d pulled out one of the books for some reason, probably on a whim, letting his hands run over the leather spine and along the thread of the binding absentmindedly after Quackity left for the day. He hadn’t touched them in a while - he liked to save them, at the beginning, just in case visitors came and he wanted to thank them or if he needed to communicate (though he hadn’t gone silent since Sapnap left, ‘cause Sapnap wanted him to talk and he doesn’t know why he still clings to that visit when it’s been months and he still hasn’t come back, but he promised that if Dream behaved he’d visit again and - it’s stupid to hope, but Dream can’t give up, not yet) and then he kept them because he would need them for the revive book and the Warden would confiscate them, anyway, so it was better not to get attached. Regardless, he’d stubbornly ignored the chest of books for a long time, let the remain closed and the clasp go unlatched as he wasted his days away watching the walls drip bright purple and pretend he didn’t miss his clock.

Until now.

He runs his fingers along the surface of the paper again, ignoring the red and black smudges they leave in their wakes, ruining the previously unblemished pages. The paper is smooth, bearing a very slight grain, and smells clean and woody - this book must’ve been a newer one the Warden replaced into the chest. He’d counted the pages a few times, front and back - there are fifty sheets, so a hundred pages to use as he sees fit, completely empty and untouched. The quill shakes in his hand, the tip pressed against the paper, unmoving.

What is there to write?

He’s forgotten why he pulled out the book in the first place, already - his head keeps getting fuzzier, memory impossibly fragmented and seemingly worsening with every passing day. He knows he had a reason because he’d been very determined about it, had spent what must have been hours dragging himself along the obsidian floor with a broken shinbone jutting out of his right leg and a dislocated left shoulder that he’d taken an extra few minutes to jam back in place by pressing it against the floor. Something had come into his head, probably in the middle of Quackity’s daily session, and he’d found himself desperate to write it down before he forgot despite the throbbing of his head and the pain in his chest making it impossible to take a full breath.

(He must have talked back, or acted defiant, or something - he doesn’t remember much besides the look Quackity had given him after, dark and angry and tight with rage. There had been a hand tangled in his hair, a blade jammed right up against his throat, curses and screams in his ears dying into a singular ringing echo as the blade was pushed deeper and deeper. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Quackity realized that he’d gone too deep and that Dream was choking on his own blood - his memories shatter, and there’s nothing but more screaming, red and black and blood everywhere, warm against his skin, the sweet-sour taste of glistening melon on his tongue, a healing pot desperately stitching his skin together and bringing him back from the darkness that he’d swelled in the corners of his vision - mostly, he remembers everything going cold and numb and he’d realized, halfway into the Void, that he would never leave the Vault alive.)

His hands tighten on the book as he breathes a shallow, harsh breath through his teeth, because - oh. Oh. He looks back at the trembling white plume in his hand, at his shaking fingers clenched tightly near the end, and he swallows the thick, heavy feeling in his throat. Quackity had- and he had- and then-

Right.

He forces air into his lungs steadily, counting the seconds off in his head. He’d learned how to stave off panic attacks on his own ages ago, and the knowledge had come to full use in the Vault - the struggle to stay calm seems harder with every passing day, but he can’t exactly risk himself passing out every three seconds when he’s inevitably set off by the smell of blood or a twinge of pain or any of the million other triggers crammed into this tiny box that’s been the source of all of his torment for months. He keeps up the slow, steady breathing for another few minutes, just enough time to pull back the darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision, and looks back down at the blank paper.

It stares back at him, almost judgmental of his hesitancy. You opened me up, it seems to challenge him, why aren’t you writing? The quill still shakes in his hand. He doesn’t know if it’ll ever stop shaking again.

Dear, he begins, almost in defiance, proof that he Is Going To Write Something, thank you very much, he isn’t just going to chicken out and leave it a blank book (like you have before?) but the quill tip digs into the paper as he grinds to a sudden halt, the empty space next to the first word nearly taunting. He feels his mouth dry, heat rising behind his eyes - the book, silent and blank as ever, stays imprinted in his vision even as he squeezes them shut.

Dear, what a stupid, sentimental way to start a letter. He can’t even fool himself into thinking of it as a business venture, turn it into an elaborate plan to escape and address it to either Techno or Wilbur (who would never receive his message anyway), not without admitting his regard for the two edged past his pretense of professional interested and owed favors. He can hardly write it to Ranboo, not without compromising their already fragile alliance (if it even exists, anymore. The enderman hybrid had yet to visit for months - and sure, it was probably for the best, who knows how Quackity would react if he found out about the nature of their relationship, but that didn’t make it sting any less.)

In the back of his minds, name rise from where he’d kept them carefully buried despite his best efforts. Punz. Bad. Puffy. Sapnap. George. He shakes his head, trying to wave away them from his thoughts, but the effort is as fruitless as it has always been - he stares at the first word angrily, like it has betrayed him, and receives no response. The words are messy, shaking, his script overly looping and rounded like a child’s. He hates it, hates how cheery it looks, even on the bloodstained page - it looks like the beginning of a birthday card, or a perhaps a particularly dedicated Halloween party invite. Like he’s some sort of lovesick teen, writing letters to crushes that would never pay him a second glance. He laughed a little, without any real humor - minus the romance, that description isn’t all that far off.

Because- well. His memories might be shot to all hell, but he doubts he’ll ever forget the hatred on Sapnap’s face, a loaded crossbow pointed between his eyes, George’s expression set in disinterested apathy - “George, you can give the word.” Bad’s face, twisted in pity and resignation, voice carefully measured as he looks away and gestures at the cell, “you did do some pretty bad stuff to get put in here though, Dream,” the hidden “you deserve it” that he’d heard, just as clearly behind the words. Punz - “you should’ve paid me more” - jaw set stiffly as people poured through the portal, watching, wordless, as Dream bled out twice on that blackstone floor. Puffy, poorly hidden disgust flickering over her face as she looks away from him being dragged away in chains, sword held steady in her hands. Sapnap, that same fiercely determined expression on his face so familiar that thinking of it aches, even now, “it’s gonna be me, who takes your final life.” Months and months and months and months, alone.

Always, always, alone.

The page makes a quiet, complaining groan under his pen - he looks down to see it torn under the tip of his quill, the word completely unreadable under line after line of black ink scratched over it, each one deeper than the last. He stares blankly at it for a few minutes longer, the brief flash of anger that had seared through his body settling into numbness once more.

To whoever may find this: he scratches the words on the page slowly, keeping his print deliberately blocky and neat. The heavy feeling in his throat returns, stronger than ever, and he ignores it as he pushes on.

He pauses for a moment, wondering what more to write. Apologies? Accusations? He could detail every second that he remembers from Quackity’s visits, describe every inch of pain that had been pulled from his aching lungs, every line etched into his skin. He could apologize for every act of cruelty that had ever been caused by his hands, every bridge he’d ever torched to light the path to a better future. He could explain - everything, every tortured thought that had circled his head for hours on end and every night that had passed without any sleep and every time he’d pushed on without complaint or hesitancy because it would be worth it, even if he was the only one who saw it, it would be worth it because he’d sacrifice too much for it to be anything but. He could- he could, he could write and write until he’d filled every page of every book back and front, and would they even believe him? Would it even matter?

Goodbye, he writes at last. It feels strangely final. (He won’t be leaving this Vault alive. He knows this as surely as he knows that he will leave this world uncared for, unheard. As surely as he knows that he’ll always be alone.) With a quick snap of magic following the signing of his name, the book is preserved, shining slightly with a purple glow as he sets it back down in the chest. He looks around, the cell once again stiflingly quiet without the book to busy him, Dream once again completely alone as he’s been for - well.

(Pandas, eyebrows drawn in uncharacteristic seriousness from the usually painfully spirited eight-year-old, pinkie raised between the two of them, solemnity belied by the gap in his front teeth poking out between his lips.

“We’ll be together forever,” he whispered with the volume control you’d expect from a kid that age, which is to say that it wasn’t much of a whisper at all, but Dream, newly ten years old, remembers being particularly moved by the gesture anyway, moving to hesitantly hook his own pinkie in the other’s.

“And we’ll never be alone ever again,” he’d replied, voice faraway with a disbelieving sort of awe.”

“Never,” Pandas’ voice had been just as firm as his first statement, twisting his wrist to tighten the grip of their linked fingers further. “Best friends for ever and ever, right?”

“For ever and ever.”)

“For ever and ever,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut as he slumps down against the floor, and only the lava bubbles in reply.

[imjustwritingg]

pillow talk part 2

Hi friends! This second installment was highly requested here on tumblr and I figured after what happened in 8x14, it was a good time to write it. So here you go friends! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! 🥰

Also on AO3 and FFNet!

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“You jammed me up. That’s not okay.”

His words play over and over in her head as she drives to his apartment. She knows he might not want to see her, the look of disappointment on his face at the crime scene enough evidence of that possibility, but she can’t let the night end without talking to him or at least trying to.

She parks her car and goes inside his building, heart beating wildly in her chest as she makes her way to his door. She rattles her knuckles against it and waits, knocking twice more a few moments later, when there’s no answer, but the door still doesn’t open and it feels as though someone has just punched her in the stomach.

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and calls him, brings the phone to her ear, but it goes right to voicemail. She ends the call and waits a minute or so before she redials, hoping that maybe he’s on another call and is distracted, but she just gets his voicemail again.

He doesn’t want to talk to her. Doesn’t want to see her. And her stomach lurches, shoulders heaving raggedly as her breath gets stuck in her throat.

She can’t blame him. She had put him in the most compromising position tonight, taken unnecessary risks, and made questionable choices to say the least.

She looks at his door longingly, thinking if maybe she stares hard enough it’ll open and he’ll appear out of nowhere, but the door remains closed and he’s nowhere to be seen.

She turns on her heels and wipes under her eyes at the burning tears threatening to spill over, a horrible ache pulsating inside of her as she walks back to her car and starts to head home, ready to crawl into her bed and try and sleep this night away.

When she finally turns down her street sometime later she spots his truck parked up outside of her building. He’s standing next to his driver’s side door, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted towards the ground. He’s waiting for her and the sight of him makes her heart nearly stop beating.

She can just barely make out the look on his face in the glow of her headlights, but it resembles something a lot like betrayal and it sends a rush of guilt through her immediately.

She parks a few spots behind him and takes a deep breath as she gets out of her car. She tries to somehow prepare herself for whatever he’s about to dish out to her, but she’ll take whatever he has to say because at least he’s there.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,” she says quietly, approaching him with slow moving steps and a once again fast beating heart as she shoves her hands into her coat pockets.

As she stands in front of him she takes in the soft look of his eyes and the anguish that curtains his face. She realizes it wasn’t betrayal she had seen just moments ago, but sheer disappointment instead, just like earlier at the crime scene, and it guts her again.

“Figured we should talk. I didn’t wanna leave things the way we did at the scene,” he tells her, his voice a matching tone of quiet and reserved.  

“I went to your apartment. Tried calling.”

“My phone died so I just came over,” he says.

She responds with a tilt of her chin towards her apartment building in silent invitation and he follows a few steps behind her inside.

They ride the elevator up to her floor without uttering a word, him standing in one corner and her in another, time seeming to pass too slowly as if taunting her. She glances over at him, but his eyes are down to the floor, lost in his own mind and thinking too hard.

When the elevator finally halts and the familiar ding chimes through the car they step out onto her floor and head for the door of her apartment, him still a few steps behind her and keeping his distance.

She lets them into her apartment, closing the door after him and turning the deadbolt, but she’s quick to notice he doesn’t move any further inside than where he stands by the door.

She steps away from, pulling off her jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch before throwing him a look over her shoulder. “Water? Beer?”

He shakes his head and stays planted where he stands, hands in his pockets now and staring back at her as Hailey moves towards the kitchen island. She leans back against it, crossing her arms in front of her as she looks at him. He still doesn’t move or take off his jacket, and it makes her stomach churn at the memory of them standing in similar positions not too long ago when she had been so certain he was going to leave her.

She knows she made a mistake, a few of them, and she knows she hurt him and the last thing she wants is him to leave or think she wants him to, so she blows out a deep sigh and walks towards him.

“I’m sure you might want your space from me after what happened and I have no right to ask,” she says, words coming out in a rush before she hesitates, breathing out and looking at him with near desperation. “Will you please stay?”

Jay stares back at her for a fraction of a moment and it’s long enough to set her mind reeling in fear that she’s jeopardized everything between them now, but he surprises her like he always does and gives a slow nod.

“If I wanted space I wouldn’t have come. I didn’t think that’s something either of us needed right now.”

His tone is sincere despite the sadness looming over his face and she breathes out in relief as she offers a small smile and takes another step closer towards him. She reaches for his arms, pulls his hands from his pockets, feels his eyes burning into her as she pushes his jacket down over his shoulders.

She drapes it over her arm and holds onto one of his hands, her thumb brushing over freckled skin as she lifts her eyes to his, then whispers, “I’m really glad you came.”

He nods again and gives her hand a quick squeeze, but doesn’t say anything more, just follows her with his eyes when she lets go of him and goes to place his jacket down over hers on the couch. She makes her way back to him and reaches for one of his hands again, twining their fingers together as she leads him into her bedroom.

They fall into their usual routine, one they’ve created and perfected with one another since that first night together many months ago, although tonight it’s silent between them. There’s no mindless small talk or teasing one another from across the room, but it’s still so domestic and easy and somehow comfortable despite the circumstances. It sends an ache through her chest as they do their own thing, but they still do it together. As if they’ve been doing it for a lifetime already.

She strips and changes into a pair of clean underwear, and grabs a t-shirt from the basket of fresh laundry on the floor that has yet to be put away. A mindless chore she’ll save for tomorrow when she has more energy.  

She pulls the t-shirt over her head and when it falls to just above her knees, it’s only then she realizes that the garment doesn’t belong to her, but to the man standing across the room in just his boxers.

She glances over at Jay who quickly catches her eye and looks her up and down as he settles beneath the sheets and leans back against the headboard. “Is that my shirt?”

Hailey makes her way to the bed, pulling her hair out from its ponytail and dropping the tie on her nightstand as she climbs in beside him. She sits in a pretzel position as she faces him and gives a shrug of her shoulders. “I just grabbed it from the basket. I can change if you - “

He shakes his head, smiling fondly at her. “You look good in my shirt Upton.”

The corners of her mouth tip upwards at his comment, but she can’t help fiddling with her hands that rest in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” Hailey breathes out, not able to withstand the awkwardness in the air between them any longer and needing to talk to him, really talk to him. “I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have gone into that house. I put you in a tough spot tonight and I’m so sorry.”

“God, I hate that word,” she scoffs then before he can say anything and runs a hand through her hair. “Sorry. It doesn’t fix anything and I know it’s not supposed to, but apologizing still doesn’t condone what I did tonight.”

He gives a slow nod and glances down and she can tell he’s trying to find the words. The right words because he won’t be mean or raise his voice to try and make a point. Not with her.

She watches the way his shoulders rise and fall with each deep breath he takes, and then he looks back up at her with tired eyes from the stress and the chaos and the worry of the day behind them.

“I accept your apology, but I don’t want you to be sorry Hailey,” he says quietly before releasing a dejected sigh. “I want you to be safe. I want you to be smart. You crossed a line tonight and it was the same exact line you crossed that got you shipped off to the Feds last year.”

“I know,” she says quickly. “I got caught up in it. The case and Voight coming down on me and I started second guessing myself, and then that kid was killed and all I could focus on was finding the guy who killed him. I just didn’t care about doing it the right way. I felt like I had to prove something, but I just ended up losing control again.”

“I get it Hailey. Trust me, I get it. Especially when it comes to kids. And I know the system is flawed and it doesn’t always work the way it’s supposed to, but if tonight had turned out any differently than it did, we’d be screwed right now.”

“You’re right,” she says with another nod, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes because she knows how bad a turn things could have taken with her behavior and the thought alone makes the guilt inside her thicken. “I was so blinded by all of it and I just reacted. I don’t know why I keep doing these things. Crossing lines and pulling people down with me. Pulling you down with me. I was so stupid. I was reckless and I put you in jeopardy.”

Her heart is pounding in her chest, anxiety creeping up on her, as she lifts a hand to run it through her hair again.

“Voight’s not stupid though,” she continues a moment later. “He knows you covered for me. He knows we lied. I don’t want you getting in the middle of those crosshairs, not for me. I don’t wanna cause problems for you. I don’t wanna change who you are because I make dumb decisions.”

He shakes his head at her and leans forward, reaching for one of her hands and holding it tightly between both of his. “I’m not worried about Voight. He’s not exactly the poster boy for doing the right thing. I chose to get out of the car. I chose to follow you inside that house. I made my own decisions and I take full responsibility for that.”

“I put you in that position though!” She groans, blowing out a deep sigh of regret. “You know I didn’t do that intentionally right? You have to know that.”

“I do,” he confirms with a squeeze of her hand. “And you know I’d follow you anywhere Hailey, but it’s a slippery slope that you’ve been walking on and what happened tonight? That can’t happen again.”

“It won’t,” she whispers.

She knows her words are meaningless, but it’s a promise she can still make. One that she’ll follow through on. Because of him, because of them, because he really does make her better. Makes her want to be better.

She’s not sure she deserves the softness of his eyes or the warmth of his fingers wrapped tightly around hers, but she’s never been more grateful for the way he anchors her in place in that moment. The way he keeps her from spinning out completely from the frustration and the guilt of her bad decisions and the events that have transpired over the last few days.

“Um, there’s something else you should know,” she says with caution in her voice and he raises an eyebrow at her curiously. “I had to stop off at the district earlier after we wrapped at the crime scene for paperwork and I told Voight we’re together. Officially I guess.”

“Didn’t he already know? Or at least assume anyways.”

“Yeah, but I also sort of made the suggestion of getting a new partner,” she confesses. “He said he wasn’t gonna split us up though. Said we’re a good team.”

“Well, that’s one thing he’s right about. We’re good together. Always have been,” he tells her. He glances down at their joined hands and then looks back up at her, a curious gaze lingering in his eyes. “Do you really want a new partner?”

She gives a slow shake of her head and a look of regret comes over her face. “I only suggested it because I thought I couldn’t have both worlds, ya know? You and me on the job, you and me here like this. I’m trying to figure it all out, us and the work stuff. I thought I had to give up one to have the other and I’m really glad I didn’t have to do that tonight.”

“That’s good because I don’t want a new partner. I just want you, but I need you to hear me when I say you’re not alone. You don’t have to deal with these things on your own. The cases, Voight, any of it. I know that’s not how you’re used to things, having someone on your side like that, but I’m here Hailey. Let me help you carry some of it, okay?”

He squeezes her hand for good measure and stares at her with his bright green eyes, soft and sweet, one of the only ways he ever looks at her these days. It sets her skin on fire, chest aching, every nerve ending shooting off with so much love and appreciation for the man in front of her. She’s not sure what she’s done to be so lucky to have a partner like him, not just on the job, but in life as well, and it makes everything inside of her ache in the best possible way.

She nods, looking back at him with a teary eyed smile and bringing her free hand up to her face to wipe at her eyes.

“I really love you, you know that? I swear I don’t deserve you,” she tells him. “And that’s not me being self-deprecating or cynical, it’s just me appreciating what I have. What we have. I got really lucky with you.”

He grins at her instantly, the sound of her saying she loves him being one of his favorite things and because he knows exactly what she means. Their track records in dating and relationships and love have all been a wash. Nothing tangible, nothing to hold on to, to depend on. But this thing with them, this unadulterated thing with its strong foundation and an ability to communicate so perfectly, even when it’s hard, reminds him that this is the kind of thing they’ll be talking about years from now.

When they’re old and grey and still together, still talking, still loving, still trusting. Their story will be the one people ask to hear about at parties and dinners and holidays. The one that people will hear when the question is asked, “How’d you do it for so long? How’d you make it work?”

He already has his answer for when those questions are asked. It’s the same one he whispers to her now in the quiet of her bedroom and the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

“It helps having a good partner.”

Her smile widens at his words and she drops her free hand down on top of his, plays with his fingers and squeezes them against hers.

“This is becoming our new thing, ya know?”

“What’s that?”

“This pillow talk business. Our old thing was some dive or Molly’s over beer, but I gotta say I much prefer my bed,” she tells him with a grin that matches his.

“Well, I do love your bed. I might love you just a little bit more though,” he says.

It’s tooth achingly sweet the way the words roll of his tongue so easily and it has her rolling her eyes, but she can’t rid herself of the smile stretched out over her face.

It still amazes her, still makes her head spin, how they can go from talking through such serious topics of conversation, of hashing things out, to teasing one another so playfully, so intimately.

The last few days have made her second guess everything. Her ability to be a cop, to be better, to separate her work life and her personal life with him. She knows it won’t be easy, but she knows they’re going to make it. They’ll make it work.

She doesn’t have much time to dwell on the thought of it not working out with the way he smiles at her still. His eyes soft and glistening with so much love and affection as he stares at her.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Jay says then, as if reading her mind, but she doesn’t even question it. He’s always been able to read her. Know exactly what she’s thinking. Exactly what she needs.

“Yeah, we are,” she agrees with another tight squeeze of their joined hands.

“Come here,” he says with a tug of her hand.

She lifts herself to her knees to crawl the short distance to him and he pulls her down beside him. He helps her settle under the covers, their bare legs tangling together beneath the sheets, and his arms wrap her up in a cocoon of love and safety that only he has ever been able to provide her.

Her head lies against his shoulder and her arm falls across his torso, hand resting on his stomach and their eyes stay on one another in a tender gaze. She drags her fingernails over his skin in feather light caresses and he moves his arm up her shoulder to glide his hand through her hair.  

“This is my favorite part of every day,” she mumbles into his shoulder.

“Mine too,” he says, angling his head down to press his lips against her forehead. His lips linger there, pressing into her skin again, then once more before he pulls back to look her in the eyes.

“I wish I could do tonight differently,” she finds herself whispering as she stares at him. “I wish I could take it back.”

He knows instantly by the sound of regret laced in her words and the sudden appearance of sadness clouding her eyes again.

“What’s done is done. Whatever happens as a result, we’ll deal with it together,” he says squeezing her side. A gentle nudge reminding her they’re okay, that he’s got her, that things will be okay.

She turns her face into his shoulder, pressing a kiss against his bicep and moving her hand up to his chest, right over top of where his heart lies under skin and muscle and bone. It beats slowly beneath her palm, another steady, gentle reminder that he’s still there with her, that she hasn’t ruined this, them. That he’s still in it.

He stretches over her for a moment to switch off the lamp on the nightstand on her side, and then his arm falls back around her. He tightens his hold on her just a fraction more around her body as he tilts his head and kisses the top of hers before they settle into the softness of the bed and each other.

She’s always wondered how couples could sleep this way, cuddled together so closely like they show in movies and on television. She had always thought it couldn’t be comfortable for either person, but as she lies in bed with him, nestled under covers with her body pressed up against his and his arms holding her tightly, she realizes she wouldn’t want to fall sleep any other way. Wrapped up beside him is her favorite place to be. Her own little safe haven where nothing can hurt her or cause her pain or make her feel like less of who she is.

She’s never been dependent on anyone. Hasn’t ever needed anyone until him. But it’s not because she’s that kind of person, someone who needs a relationship or a significant other to make her feel better about herself or to quiet the voice in her head that whispers she’s not good enough, not worthy enough.

It’s because he makes her better. Makes her want to be better despite her actions tonight. He makes her feel invincible. Like she could face any battle and win a million times over because he has so much faith and trust in her, so much unwavering love for her.

She’s certain that regardless of everything that has happened over the last few days they really will be okay. That this thing between them is going to last, both their relationship and their partnership, that they’re it for one another. They’re the endgame.

[footballxposts]

Sleeping With The Enemy - Jack Grealish Series❤️‍🔥 (Chapter Three) Rules

Warnings: tension x1000 smut next

Recommended listening: You Don’t Own Me by SAYGRACE and G-Eazy.

Quick A/N: I’m 🥵 how y’all doin? prepare urselves for the next chapter bc things are bout to go from 0-100 real quick

Taglist: @storyofavengers @football-rambles

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Closing the door behind him and pulling down the small vertical shutter blinds of the office, Mr. Grealish began making his way towards me. Each time I took a step backwards, he took one forwards, until I eventually hit off of the desk behind me and was stopped. He towered over me, making me anxious as he ran a hand through his hair again and bit his lip. You know that look of mischief he always has? That’s exactly what he looked like right now.

“W-what are you doing Jack?” I mouthed.

“Nothing.” He mumbled, his ‘th’ sounding more like an ‘f’. Smirking, he brushed away a hair from my face past my shoulder, before placing his hands either side of mine on the desk, practically leaning over me. His eyes glanced at both of my own before making their way down to my lips and back up again.

“I need to um- I really need to get back to work Jack the clinic is busy and there’s documentation along with injuries to be dealt wi-“ I began rambling but he cut me off.

“No they’re not expecting you back yet gorgeous. I told Alan I needed to speak to you privately.” He said seductively. You know when every part of your body starts tingling. That’s what mine was doing at this current moment. I didn’t want him, but he was making me want him. So fucking bad. But I knew I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. But my god, I can’t explain how much I felt the urge to just latch onto him there and then.

“Talk to me about what-?” I asked, watching his observation. He had now moved on of his hands to my cheek, carefully caressing it with his thumb.

“What’s going on between you and McGinn? Saw you two having lunch together.” He announced. My stomach was literally doing flips, my breathing becoming increasingly heavier. However, I decided to hold my own in my response. I was determined on not giving in.

“There’s nothing going on between us. We just had lunch. Besides, it’s not of your business who I choose to spend my time with. Or didn’t you know that already?” I gulped.

Shaking his head, he kissed his teeth in a disapproving manner. “Should have been having lunch with me. Or didn’t you know that already?” He copied me, my eyes tracing his finger against my skin.

“You don’t own me Jack. I’m not just one of your many toys. You can’t tell me who I should be spending my time with instead. I mean, don’t you have somebody else to have lunch with?” I questioned.

“What makes you think that?” he responded with another question.

“Just what I’ve been hearing.”

Lightly scoffing with another smirk, he removed his hand from my face and placed it back down beside mine.

“I’m not interested in anyone else. And I know for a fact it’s not John you’re interested in.”

“I’m not interested in you either..” I verbalised, trying to stand up against him to leave but his stature was too elevated above me. Every freckle on his face was clearly visible to me.

“You know I have to give it to you, you’re good at your job Ella. But what you’re not good at is lying. I know you want me just as much as I want you.” he whisper-spoke.

“I’m not lying Jack.” I stated. But I was. I wanted to pounce on him like a puma. I wanted him to flip me around right there and then and fuck me against that desk. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t give in to him like that. I wasn’t going to be another one of his conquests John had talked about.

“No?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. Taking his hands away from either side of me, he stood upright and out of my way. “Alright, if you say so. I’m not forcing you at the end of the day.” He was now twirling his lip with his arms crossed. Standing up myself, I looked at him then down at my feet.

“Good.” was all I could get out.

“Good.” He repeated.

“Fine.” I let out a final deep breath.

“Fine.” He echoed, now sounding like a parrot. But a very enticing Brummy parrot at that, tongue in cheek looking so bold. I slowly started making my way to the door, wondering if I should have just went for it or not. As I grabbed the handle and opened it ever so slightly, he made it his mission to once again get his input in.

“Just so you know, I don’t see you as just another one of the other girls I’ve been with. I know you think I’m just saying it but I’m not.”

I turned my head back to look at him before giving him my opinion.

“Well.. it’s kind of hard to believe that when it’s only my second day here and you’re already trying to get in my pants. I mean, that’s what you usually do with all the new girls right?”

He stayed quiet after hearing my words.

“It’s not just that by the way. I have other reasons besides it not to go near you.” I said sternly.

Taking my place against the desk and stretching his arms behind him to hold himself up, he crossed his legs.

“Like what? The other stories you’ve heard about me with cheating and driving and all that? Not being professional, getting distracted and losing your job? Your family and your country finding out?” he widened his eyes, my own now doing the same. Was he reading my mind? Could he literally hear my thoughts? “Yeah thought that’s what they might be alright.” he teased. “You’re easy to read Ella. Thing is, as much as you might like the idea of abiding by the rules, I know you’re the type of girl who loves to break them.” He had picked up a pencil from the desk and was twirling it around with his fingers.

He was right. I did want to follow the rules. But I wanted him more. Debating on what to do, I braced myself, before shutting the door and locking it again. This time I was in control. I turned and leaned up against it, awaiting his arrival back to me.

[valdomarx]

Anon requested: Person A thinks that a proposal would be a great way to get out of a jam. Person B thinks it is a sincere proposal and accepts. Realizing it wasn't done from a genuine place leads to some upset.

In Jaskier’s defence, it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Marry me, Geralt!” he called, jogging over to his witcher, a little out of breath.

Geralt’s face pinched into something cross and Jaskier was sure he was about to be told to fuck entirely off.

“It’s the Belleteyn festival tonight,” he explained quickly. “I might have, erm, sown my seed a little more widely than would be advisable in the town.” Geralt scowled. “And there may have been some, ahem, threats against my person made by the local lord.“ Geralt’s scowl deepened. “But we can smooth it all over if we’re wed tonight. There’s some local custom -- forgiveness of past indiscretions for newly married couples on May Eve.“

Geralt was still glowering but he hadn’t said no yet. Jaskier pulled out his strongest move: He ducked his head, looked up at Geralt from under his lashes, and licked his lips. Geralt’s eyes followed the movement of his tongue almost imperceptibly.

“So marry me? Here. Tonight.”

.

It had been a lovely ceremony, as fake weddings go. There had been music and wine, dancing and merriment, and Geralt even allowed some of the local girls to braid flowers into his hair.

They’d only had enough coin for one ring, a simple silver band, so Jaskier had taken that and he’d given Geralt his father’s signet ring. He’d never have parted with it for anyone else, but it was Geralt. He knew without question he would keep it safe until this ruse was over with.

Perhaps there really was something magical in the air at that time of year, or maybe it was an evening spent at an increasingly raunchy celebration that did it. But after the festivities were over and the townsfolk returned to their homes, Geralt took Jaskier back to their campsite in the woods, laid him down on a bedroll with indescribable tenderness, and fucked him within an inch of his life.

It was everything Jaskier had been quietly fantasising about for years, except more because it was Geralt and even Jaskier’s profoundly vivid imagination couldn’t match the reality of his witcher, every glorious inch of muscle straining and taut, eyes blown wide with lust, taking Jaskier apart and piecing him back together again.

.

The next morning, Jaskier woke slowly, feeling the telling ache of a night well spent. Geralt was already up, packing up camp and loading their bags onto Roach.

“There’s oatmeal in the pot if you want breakfast,” Geralt grunted. “We should get going soon.” He turned back to his work.

Right. Okay. They just... weren’t going to talk about it then. Back to business as usual.

Jaskier shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course Geralt would be as pragmatic about sex as he was about everything else. A way to get some relief, to meet a need. No expectations.

Hell, it had taken Geralt over a decade to admit they were actually friends. Jaskier felt stupid for even hoping for more.

Sleeping together had been a one time deal, it seemed. Too bad.

.

Jaskier realised he was still wearing the ring a few hours later. He should take it off, get rid of it. Maybe sell it at the next town.

He should ask Geralt for his father’s ring back too. But it seemed somehow rude to ask, too needy.

And he... well, he sort of liked catching glimpses of it decorating Geralt’s finger, like a tiny piece of Jaskier was with him wherever he went.

Jaskier found his thumb rubbing over the silver band around his own finger over and over again. It was silly, he knew, but he liked the feel of it. He would keep it for now.

.

After that, things got weird. At lunch, Geralt tried to persuade Jaskier to eat the last of the apples, as if he didn’t know their supply was running low. And at dinner, Geralt hunted and prepared two squirrels for Jaskier instead of the customary one. Jaskier would eat just about anything in a pinch, but charred rodent was not something he felt the need for seconds of.

Everywhere they went, Geralt kept trying to foist food on him. Did he think that Jaskier was weak? That he wasn't able to keep up without extra supplies? Jaskier was, admittedly, not as young as he used to be, but he thought he still measured up pretty well in the fitness department. He didn’t love the implication that he was falling short in some way.

.

At night, Geralt would lay out their bedrolls close together. Close, but never touching. When he laid down, Jaskier could feel Geralt’s breath on the back of his neck, and his chest ached with want.

He waited every night for Geralt to sneak an arm around his waist and pull him close, or to lean forward and whisper an invitation in his ear. Jaskier would be on him in a second.

But he never did, and every night Jaskier berated himself again for being so foolish and tried to push the thoughts from his mind. It was hard being so close and yet so far from what he truly wanted, but he wouldn’t force Geralt into a situation he wasn’t comfortable with.

.

After a week of this Jaskier was truly beginning to lose his mind, and it was a relief when they came upon a small town where they could rest for the night. Jaskier could go out, find some company and distract himself from the hopeless longing settled in his bones, even if only for the night.

When he announced his intention to look around the town, Geralt said he would come along too. That wasn’t ideal for Jaskier’s plan of distraction, but he’d make it work. He always enjoyed Geralt’s company anyway.

There wasn't a lot going on in the town, but there was a pretty barmaid in the tavern, a cheerful red-haired lady with exuberant freckles and strong curves. She flashed a smile at Jaskier the moment they walked in.

Perfect. He smiled back, ordered two drinks, and set to flirting outrageously with her. She giggled and teased back, not seeming intimidated by Geralt‘s presence, even though he was growing notably testier as their interactions became more charged.

When she reached over the bar to twirl a finger through Jaskier’s hair, Geralt actually growled.

She backed off and looked at Geralt. “Didn’t mean any harm,” she said. “I’m just being friendly. Unless...” She looked down at their hands on the bar, apparently noting their rings, and then back to Jaskier. “Unless you’re spoken for. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” Jaskier said with a laugh, just as Geralt said, “Yes, actually, we’re married.”

Jaskier stared at Geralt. Geralt stared at Jaskier. The barmaid held her hands up in the universal gesture for “none of my business, nothing to see here” and backed away to wipe down a table.

Every muscle in Geralt’s neck was tense and throbbing, and Jaskier had no idea what to say.

“Geralt,” he began, carefully. “is this about the other day? The ceremony? Did you... Did you think that was for real?”

Something pained flashed across Geralt’s face, an expression more raw than any Jaskier had seen on him before. Then he stood, turned, and bolted from the tavern.

“Geralt!” Jaskier called, getting to his feet. “Geralt, wait!”

By the time Jaskier was out of the door, Geralt was already disappearing down the dirt road, not turning back.

Ahh, fuck.

.

Jaskier left the girl at the tavern with a hurried apology, pausing only to throw their various possessions into bags and to load up Roach before heading out after Geralt. He knew bugger all about tracking, but he knew the direction Geralt was heading, and after that he relied on Roach’s instincts. She at least seemed confident in what to do.

He caught up to Geralt less than a mile outside of town. He was sat alone in a copse of trees just off the road, staring at the leaves.

He didn’t flee as Jaskier approached, though he didn’t turn to look at him either. “Geralt? I’m sorry. I was thoughtless. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Geralt stood slowly and turned to face him, though he avoided making eye contact. “It was a misunderstanding.” Geralt’s face was carefully blank, a look Jaskier recognised from times he was trying very hard to hide his emotions. “A wrong assumption on my part about the seriousness of the ceremony at Belleteyn.”

“Holy hell, Geralt.” Jaskier’s mind reeled. Geralt thought they had really been getting married, and he had been okay with that? “Does that mean... Would you actually want to be married to me?”

“It was stupid,” Geralt gritted out. Anyone else would have thought he was angry, but Jaskier knew him well enough to see he was hurt. “To think it was anything more than a distraction.”

No no no, that wasn’t right at all. Jaskier tried to take Geralt’s chin in his hand but Geralt turned his face forcefully away.

“Is that why you’ve been acting strange?” Jaskier thought back on it: the gifts of food, the aborted attempts at closeness, the feeling Geralt’s eyes on him constantly, checking his well-being.

“I thought...” Geralt wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I thought you wanted things to be normal. Like they always were.”

“If I were married to you for real, I wouldn’t act like everything was normal!” Jaskier exploded. “Damn it, Geralt. I’d kiss you every morning and hold you every night. And I’d tell everyone we met -- everyone -- that I was the luckiest person on the continent, because this is my husband, the one and only Geralt of Rivia, and he’s the best man I’ve ever met.”

Jaskier shut his mouth. Too late, though. Too late to take any of that back.

Geralt’s brow was pinched, though it didn’t quite look like a frown. It almost made him look thoughtful.

Finally he looked at Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “Every morning?”

Jaskier felt all the fight leaving his body in one grand sweep. Geralt let him push him to his knees on the ground and allowed Jaskier to flop into his lap. Jaskier brushed a strand of hair from his face. “I’ve thought about kissing you every day for years,” Jaskier confessed.

And then he saw it -- one of Geralt’s oh-so-rare smiles. Not the forced grimace he adopted when he needed to look nonthreatening, or the tolerant lip twitch he’d give Jaskier when he was trying to be funny. No, this was a genuine Geralt smile, more precious than gemstones, the kind that lifted his entire face and reached his eyes.

Geralt threaded a hand into the back of his hair, brought their faces closer, and kissed him. At the touch of their lips every part of him went boneless, held up only by Geralt’s arms and a determination to make as much bodily contact as he possibly could.

His head was spinning by the time they pulled apart for air. Geralt’s eyes were sparkling, and Jaskier could have lost himself in that sight for the rest of his life and considered himself a lucky man.

Geralt leaned their foreheads together. “Will you stay with me?” he asked, very quietly. “Even if all I can offer you is charred squirrel and sleeping beneath the stars?”

“Always,” Jaskier promised, without a shadow of a doubt. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Through the good and the bad, the injuries and the pain, the plenty and the lean times. Through it all, he wanted to be with Geralt.

Jaskier took Geralt’s hand in his and slotted their fingers together. Their rings lay next to each other, the elaborate gold of Jaskier’s crest shining against Geralt’s pale skin and the smooth silver encircling his own finger like an embrace.

It was all startlingly clear. “Marry me, Geralt,” he said, his heart welling over. “For real this time.”