#the shading looks really complicated but i did it in like 5 minutes tops

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tumblr finds jared (2023, colorized)

[janicho88]

Falling For You -Part 4

December

Pairing-Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word count- 6071

Warning- Slight angst, jealousy, one or two swear words,  fluff.  Slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU  Thank you to @waywardbeanie and @whatareyousearchingfordean​  for helping me keep these 2 characters in line and letting me bounce ideas off of you.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door.  Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to. 

Series Masterlist

Your parents Christmas party was two weeks away, but you had a lot of baking to do, and none of it was started.  Why did you procrastinate?  Oh yeah, not much freezer room here when they are finished, and you had been hanging out with Dean.  Coming home from work on Monday, you got a quick workout in before planning to spend the evening in the kitchen. 

 Recipes out, and ingredients spread on the counter you started working on your first cookie.  Tonight you decided, was peanut butter night, which meant making the dough for peanut butter blossoms first, it would sit overnight and cook tomorrow while you were mixing other dough.  Santa’s peanut butter cookie bars, and the last item of the night no bakes.

While working on the cookie bars there was a knock on your door which had you pausing to answer it. Hands a little sticky you answered the door as best you could. 

“Hey Dean.”

“Hi Y/N, um, you got a little something here, and a here.”  He pointed to one side of your face and then your forehead.  Wiping it off with your hands you made a bigger mess.  

“Moved out almost a week and you forgot where Sam lives already?”  You teased him letting him into your apartment.  

“No, I came over to see if you would like to grab some food with me.  I think you might be a little busy though.”

“Yeah, I’m working on deserts for the Christmas party at my parents in two weeks.  Your invitation should be coming any day, I hope you, your brother and Jess can come.  I know Cas and Meg will be there too.  I was in the middle of baking, but you are welcome to hang out if you want.”

“I got it today actually, I’ll be there.  Have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Alright, so let's order a pizza, and I’ll help with quantity control in the kitchen.”

“I won’t have much for you to control tonight, but pizza sounds good.”

While the bar was cooking you got everything ready for the no bakes, deciding to start them after the pizza arrived.  Eating at the counter next to Dean, he told you about the shop he was working in.  He really liked Bobby, said he was an old grump on the outside but a teddy bear underneath.  Bobby’s wife Ellen  helped with the book keeping some days, she also owned a bar a little outside of town.  He invited you to go with him, Sam and Jess to check it out sometime. Benny and he got along well, he also ran the kitchen at the bar in the evenings.

Santa’s peanut butter bars came out as you were waiting for your no-bake ingredients to boil.  Dean went to cut a piece after you had set it down.

“You know that’s going to be extremely hot right?”

“It will cool in a minute, everything is better right out of the oven.”  Shaking your head you went back to stirring your pot. “Oh that was good,” came from Dean a few minutes later.  “When did you start baking?”

“My mom used to do it all, I’d help with what I could when I was little.  Dumping in the ingredients she already measured, or stirring the batter after she mixed it.  When you’re a kid you think you are so much help.  Then we started doing it together as I got older, I learned from her.  Over time I’ve found some of my own recipes to make, or put my spin on others.  The last couple of years I’ve taken on most of the party baking, but there are one or two things we will make together for it.”

“You’ve got a real talent for it.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to humor me.”  

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that, just looking at the back of your head while you were stirring. “It can be a great stress relief too when I’m frustrated with someone or something. It also forces me to find time for the gym.”  You continued on not noticing his pause. 

You had made a double batch of no-bakes and when they were ready, had talked Dean into helping you spoon them out.  As the pot they were in cooled down Dean stuck a finger in the still soft cookie batter before putting it in his mouth.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Trying to keep a stern face as you looked at him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry did you want a taste?”  He dipped another finger and spread it over your lips before tapping your nose.  Neither of you moving, eyes locked on one another before Dean’s ringing phone broke you apart.  He went into the living room to take the call, while you wiped off your face and tried to figure out what that was between you.  Nothing, right?  You guys were just friends, neither of you wanted more, you were seeing things that weren’t there.

“That was Bobby, I have to go.  There is a late delivery coming into the shop he was expecting in the morning and he isn’t there to let them in.  You um, doing anything this week, or weekend?” He seemed a little more hesitant when he asked that.

“You’re looking at it.  Maybe some cleaning and decorating I’m a little behind on it.”

“You need any help?”

“I don’t know about help, but I’ll always take the company if you want.”

“Okay, I’ll see you sometime this week.  Night Y/N.”

“Night Dean,” locking up after him you let your thoughts drift to the green eyed man causing you so much confusion.  Two months ago you both wanted to avoid relationships, you still didn’t think you were ready to get back out there.  You really didn’t want to misread anything from him and scare him away either.    

It was Friday night before you saw Dean again, a knock coming just after 5:30.  This time he appeared at your door with beer, and burgers. 

“Hi, you didn’t have to bring food.”

“Did you eat?”

“No, not yet.”

“Did you have anything here to eat?”

“I probably could have figured out something.” 

“Yeah, the burgers were needed. This way more time to work on whatever tonight's project is.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.  Tonight's goal is frosting the sugar cookies I baked yesterday, making the frosting topping for the Cranberry Bliss bar, and the cake for the petit fours.”

“I’m not sure which question to ask first.  I’m going to go with what the hell is a petty four?”

Not able to hide a smile and small chuckle you looked at him as you handed him a plate for his burger and fries.  “Petit four, ever seen those small cake looking things that are like an inch or smaller, decorated fancy?”

“Maybe?  I pay more attention to the pie.  Speaking of, are you making any of those?”

“Not exactly, I have cherry pie cookie cups. Petit fours are a type of cake with layers of frosting and I also do a fruit filling in mine too.”

“Sounds complicated, but back to where are these cookie pies?  I think I need to check them for you.”

“Sorry, I was out of freezer room here, they already went to my parent’s freezer.  And yes, they are complicated.  I’ll make the cake today, then it has to cool and slightly freeze,  the filling, frosting and glaze will get made this weekend and then put all together.”

“I don’t have that kinda patience. Next question, what are you going to do with all this?”

“It’s a big party, we go through a lot then.  It will go back in the freezer after, and the week leading up to Christmas we’ll get it back out and make up trays to give away to friends, business we deal with, and have some left over for Christmas.”

“What does one have to do to get on this list, sweetheart?”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure one will find its way to your door. 

“What all is on your party list?”

“The things from Monday, and tonight, buckeyes, cherry cheesecake bar, two different truffles, fudge, cranberry cookies, candies, white chocolate ginger cookies, and choc cherry brownie bites, polar bear faces and some candies.”

“Next week is helping mom clean, with any last minute decorations she hasn’t done, then food Thursday and Friday night. Saturday is the party, Sunday I might not get out of bed.”

Dean laughed at that, “I never said I was joking Winchester.”

“Alright, alright so what are we doing first?”

“You really want to help me?  You are welcome to turn on the television and just hang out.”

“Nope, I’m here to bake sweetheart.”

You offered to let him pick something on tv, but he declined so you turned on Hallmark Christmas movies to help you both get in the Christmas spirit.  Dean helped you put together the cake for the petit fours, so that could get cooking first.  Frosting sugar cookies was next, you had done a few cut outs, but you preferred plain old circles.  It saved time and could be decorated any way.  The frosting colors were always tied in to that year's decoration colors.  This year was blue, white and silver, unfortunately you hadn’t found a silver paste coloring yet.  You were going to make three different shades of blues and a simple white. The powdered sugar needed to be shifted still to help keep the frosting smoother. You gave that job to Dean while you got the rest of the ingredients ready.

���Oops,”  you heard from behind you.  Turning around Dean had put too much powdered sugar in at once then apparently leaned over to see what he was doing. Now he was wearing some on his face and shirt. 

“Here,”  handing him a wet rag you helped him clean up a little. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to use store bought?”

“Yes, but this recipe tastes better, has a better consistency for decorating with it, and dries so I can stack them without ruining the design.”

“Whatever you say Betty Crocker.”

The two of you both grabbed some cookies and started to decorate, at one point you looked up and had to look away so Dean wouldn't see your smile.  The man really likes his sprinkles apparently.  

“Wow!”  You looked up quickly to see what caused that reaction from Dean.

“What?”

“Your frosting on those, that’s like store bought good.”

Feeling the blush heat up your face you smiled at him, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice over the years.  Watched a lot of decorating tips too.”

It was a lot of fun decorating the cookies with Dean, you goofed off a little and tried to “help” each other with the cookie the other was working on at that time.  That ended with some, let’s say interesting looking cookies thrown in with the others. 

“Hey Dean,” You got his attention while you headed to the sink with the last of the remaining frosting.  “I think you got a little something right here,” as you tapped him on the nose with a blue spoon quickly getting out of his reach. 

While you were standing at the sink he came up behind you and wiped his frosted nose on the shoulder of your dark green shirt.  “Dean!”  Neither of you could hold in your laughter.

The last task of the night was the frosting to the Cranberry bars.  Dean had snuck a few bits of everything tonight, but you didn’t care.  He had earned it.  This had been the most fun baking you had had in a long time.  

Neither of you had to work tomorrow and retired to the couch to watch a movie when you were all cleaned up.  The temperature had dropped this week and despite the heat being on still a little chilly in the apartment.  There was  a blanket behind Dean he grabbed before sitting next to you and tossing it over you both.  You didn’t realize as the movie went on you leaned a little closer in to Dean until he put his arm around your shoulders anchoring you close.

Dean was telling you about his week and how he met the owner’s step daughter, Jo, this week.  She had been in everyday to take care of the paper work for Ellen since she had problems at the bar to take care of.  According to Dean she was a bit of a talker, and kept coming to the back of the shop where he was working.

Oh you fool, you thought, she’s trying to flirt with you, not just talk.  “Was she just there this week?”

“Not sure, I heard her tell Bobby she would be happy to take it over if they wanted her too.”

Of course she would,  she wants to see you, went through your head, but all you said “Oh,”  You're not looking to date, you have no right to be jealous of her flirting with Dean or hanging out with him at work.  Not that he would be interested; he only wants friends right now too, but you found yourself worrying about Dean falling for her.  

Dean looked around your apartment as he was walking out, “Not much time for decorating yet?”

“I’m going to work on that tomorrow.  What about you?  How is your house coming?”

“I only had a few decorations I put up, I won’t be up here anyways.” 

“No?  Your parents aren’t coming back up?”

“No, we are heading to them.  Jess’ parents are going on a cruise that leaves the 26th so Sam and her are heading to see them before Christmas and will meet us in Kansas. I took the week of Christmas off, I’ll drive there either the 20th or 21st and come back here the 27th.   Are your parents staying in town for Christmas?

“Yep, we have it at their house every year, and my aunt should be good to travel by then.”

“That’s good, see you tomorrow.” 

“What?”  He just winked at you and shut the door.  Did you have plans you were forgetting?

Late Saturday morning while you were fighting with branches there was a knock at your door.  A bright eyed Winchester was waiting to be let in, his coffee in hand.

“I didn’t have plans today, and thought I’d give you some help.  Plus I wanted to see how the petty things went together.”  He looked at the corner where you had been working, “What is that mess?”

“That’s my tree, thank you very much, and it’s petit four.”

“You know real is the way to go.”

“Says the man with no tree.  Maybe it is, except when you live alone, and would have to water it and check it everyday and you have an allergy to the branches making you break out in red itchy spots.”

“Okay, you win.”

Dean helped you get the tree together and put the ornaments up.  When you finished with that you got the petit fours out to finish. Dean watched you adding layers to the bottom half of the cake, then put the top half on doing the same, helping when he could.

“Getting the glaze on is the hardest part, mine never look as good as ones you can get in a store.”

“I think they look awesome, if I tried these mine wouldn’t be half as good.”

You had ingredients in your cupboard for pasta so you started that inviting Dean to stay for dinner.  The night ended much like the last with the two of you side by side watching a movie on the couch.

The next week was pretty busy for you helping at your parents, it went fairly quickly though.  Usually during the week you will talk to Dean a few times and text almost everyday, even if it’s just sending the other a funny picture.  This week you hadn’t heard from him at all.  Guess he was too busy at work with Jo. 

The party had been going on for an hour and you still hadn’t seen Dean yet.  Sam, Jess, Cas and Meg had all arrived half an hour ago.  

It was thirty minutes later when Dean finally arrived. Finding his brother and friend first he said hello to them before looking for you.  Finally spotting you talking to a group of people, he hung out behind you for a few minutes before a woman looked up at him and said hello.  This had you turning around.

“Hello Dean, so glad you could finally make it.”  Was it chilly in here or just your voice.

“Oh, you’re Dean!”  Exclaimed the woman who first spotted him.

“Yeah, that’s me,”  he gave her a small smile.

The woman looked to you before going back to Dean, “It’s nice to finally meet you, it seems like my daughter has forgotten her manners. I'll introduce myself, I’m Alicia. It's nice to meet you. Y/N said you had helped her with the baking last week.  I have to say you two make a great team, thank you for helping her.”  She glanced over at you looking at the floor, “I need to go check the food, I’m sure I’ll see you around, Dean.”

“Sorry I’m late, I got called back into work.”

“The shop closes at one on Saturday’s, it’s 8:30 now. Did you walk home and then here?”

“No, Jo was trying to finish up paperwork for November that had to be sent in today.  She called me in to explain some of the notes, and expenses.  Bobby and Ellen were out of town today so she couldn’t ask them.  It took awhile and she wanted to grab dinner, I told her I had a party to be at, but she kept pushing and I went with her for one drink.”

“It’s fine Dean, nothing said you had to be here when it started, or stay the whole time.  Have fun, your brother and Cas are around here somewhere.  I need to go check the dessert table.”  

Turning and quickly walking away, Dean was too caught off guard by your distance to follow right away.  You had never given him the cold shoulder like that, he didn’t like it.  By the time he caught up to you again, someone else had pulled you into conversation.  Waiting a few minutes for you to finish, finally deciding to go find Sam and the rest of that group when you didn’t.  He was fairly certain you were upset with him, and that didn’t sit well at all.

He passed by the food set up in the dining room, and kept going.  As much as he was starving when he got here, he seemed to have lost his appetite now.  Meg and Jess were gone when he rejoined the guys.  He pretended to listen to their conversation, but he wasn’t really there.  Why were you so mad, was it because he was late, or did something else happen?  Why did you care when he showed up, there were numerous other people here.  His original plan was to come early and see if you needed help, but going over paperwork with Jo took much longer than expected.  She couldn’t seem to concentrate on her work.   

Excusing yourself from the family friend who cornered you , you made your way to your old room.  Needing a few minutes of alone time to calm yourself down.  You were jealous, but no way would you admit that to anyone else.  Your door opened minutes after you shut it, looking up Jess and Meg walked in sitting across from you on the bed.  

“Partied out already, or hiding from someone?”  Meg gave you a knowing look waiting for your answer.  “You do know Dean is downstairs right?”

“Neither, I just needed a minute, too many people down there for me.  Yeah, I know he finally showed up, not that I care”

“Liar,”  spoke up Jess.

“The two of us are completely sure you being up here has nothing to do with a green eyed bowlegged mechanic you have been looking for all night.”

“Nope, not at all. Why should I care if he spent the evening helping the boss’ daughter do paperwork, or that he took her out for dinner.”  Staring at your friends you didn’t say anything else. 

“Yep you're just fine,”  when you didn’t say anything else Meg continued, “know we are here whenever you want to talk about whatever is going on in your head.”

You all rejoined the party.  This was always one of your favorite nights as much as you were looking forward to having Dean here tonight, you weren’t up to seeing him right now.  You had caught up with your friends on and off the rest of the night.  Mostly when Dean had stepped away.  You were ready for the night to be over.

Sunday morning Dean stood outside your apartment door knocking without any answer.  The door behind him opened but he didn’t realize it until hearing a voice he knew well.

“You know I live in 43 right?”

“Yes, bitch, I do.  Y/N lives in 44.  She was off last night and I wanted to talk to her.  Picked up breakfast on the way over so she wouldn’t have to make anything.  But if she doesn’t open the door I can’t give it to her.”

“Jerk, It’s still a bit early, did you text her?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t respond.”

“You’re welcome to wait for her in here if you want to try again in a bit.”  After knocking again, he followed Sam inside.

Rolling over in bed, you reached over petting the dog laying next to you.  You missed having a dog around, but your apartment wasn’t pet friendly.  Grabbing a sweatshirt you made your way downstairs to see what your parents were up to.  You had decided to spend last night in your old room so you would be here to help with any more clean up this morning.  It was a good hour later when it finally dawned on you that you hadn’t checked your phone this morning.  Picking it you realized the battery died, and you didn’t bring a charger.  You were the only one without an iPhone so their chargers wouldn’t work on yours.  That will have to wait till I get home later.

Getting off the elevator later that afternoon you ran into Sam.  “Hey, Dean was looking for you earlier, but you never answered your door.  He waited for awhile, but had to get going.”

“I stayed at my parent’s last night, and didn’t take a charger for my phone.  Thank you guys for coming last night.”

“It was fun, thanks for inviting us.  When your phone has a charge, text Dean back, he has texted me a few times since he left asking if I’ve seen you.”

“Alright, talk to you later Sam.”

When your phone finally had some life you sent Dean a text apologizing for missing him when you weren’t home.

“Can I come over?” Dean texted back.

You had to debate with yourself whether you wanted him to or not.  He had done a lot to help you last week, and been a much needed friend.  Did he really deserve the cold shoulder because you were jealous?  You texted back ‘If you want.’

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door, putting on a smile you let Dean in.  Maybe you could pretend your behavior last night didn’t happen. 

“Hi Dean.”

“Hey Y/N, thanks for letting me come over.”

“Not a problem, how was your day?”

“Alright, a little worried my friend is mad at me, and I really want to fix that. I’m sorry I was so late.  I was actually going to come early and see if you needed help, I’m sorry work got in the way.  I tried to bring you breakfast this morning so you wouldn’t have to get out of bed and mess with anything this morning.”

Guess he wasn’t going to go along with your plan to pretend it didn’t happen. “I’m sorry Dean, I shouldn’t have gotten that upset.  You didn’t have to be there right at 7, I was excited to have you there last night and it shouldn’t have mattered when you came. I should have enjoyed having you there when you arrived.  I ruined it for both of us, I’m sorry. Sorry, I missed breakfast with you this morning.”

“It’s okay, I just really don’t want to lose my friend.  If you really wanted to make it up to me, go shopping with me tomorrow night?  I need some help with Jess and Mom, please?” He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. 

“Sure, I still have a bit to do also.”  Dean had been the best thing to happen to you in awhile, you didn’t want to lose him either.  Hopefully a night at the mall could help things go back to the way they were. “Pick me up after work?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Have you eaten dinner yet? I have leftovers from the party if you want to stay for dinner?”

“Seriously? Yes, I  didn’t end up getting anything last night.”

Both of you worked in the morning, so instead of starting a movie after dinner you just turned a tv show on.  Tonight you two didn’t sit as close as you previously did, honestly you missed it. You made small talk, he asked how things were at your parents’ house.  You told him everything cleaned up fairly quick, staying there made you miss having your dog around. 

Snow was lightly falling on the way to the mall, you were hoping for a white Christmas. Dean asked about your day, not much happened for you at work.  He was telling you about a classic car that just came in he was working on.  He really enjoyed his job, his green eyes shining as he talked about the different parts that needed restoring.

Arriving at the mall it became clear Dean really didn’t have any ideas on what to get either woman, so you offered various suggestions in the stores you were in.  Finally getting Jess done, Dean picked up a scarf you knew she wanted, and some fun picture frames to go on her collage wall.  His mom was proving trickier.  

“Any hobbies?” you asked, leaving the 6th different store. 

Dean thought for a moment, “She does like horror movies.”

“Yeah, I’m coming to realize you are all obsessed with monsters.  How about not for Christmas. Any place she mentioned she would want to go?”

He thought for a few minutes “Actually I heard her talking to Jess about a new place that opened up in town.”  When Dean finished telling you about you pulled out your phone to see if you could google it.  Finding what you needed you explained your idea to Dean and what you could get up here and what he would need to get once he was back in Kansas. 

With that  accomplished you two wandered around a few more stores looking for items to fill the rest of your lists.

Thursday was the next time you saw Dean, running into him in the apartments’ parking lot.  He was on his way to meet Sam for something.  Making small talk in the elevator, without thinking you asked something you didn’t really want to know.

“How’s Jo been?”

Dean gave you a funny look, “I don’t really know,  she hasn't been in the shop the last couple days.”

“Oh, I thought you might talk to her outside of work.”  What are you doing Y/N, do you really want to know this.  

“No. I don’t really have a reason to need to talk to the boss’s daughter outside of work.”

“Okay.  I have something in my apartment for you, I meant to drop off.  If you have time stop over before you leave.”

“Is it pie?”

“Sorry, not this time.”

When you got inside your apartment you went to check and see what ingredients you had in your cupboard. Finding pecans and a pack of crescent rolls you decided to whip up something quick.  A little over an hour later you heard a knock at your door.  Inviting Dean in you walked back over to the kitchen where the timer was going off.

“Something smells amazing.”

“I didn’t have any fruit to make a regular pie filling, but I did have some pecans I never used for the party, I made you a pecan pie bar, I hope it’s okay.”  You could almost see Dean’s mouth start to water.  “I’ll get you a fork and plate.”

“I don’t need a plate, the pan is fine.”

While Dean was eating you grabbed the item you picked up for him from the spare room.

“I know you don’t have a tree because you won’t be here for Christmas, but I thought you needed something.  Even if it’s not real.”  You had picked him up a little prelit tree and decorated it to have in his house.  

“It’s great, thanks Y/N.  You didn’t have to do that though.”  Dean gave you a hug as you set it down next to the pan of bars. 

“I know, I wanted to.  You can set it on that skinny table you have and set the presents underneath it after you wrap them.”

“Oh, that’s right I have to wrap them.  Hey sweetheart, do you think you might come over one night and help me with…”

“Seriously Winchester?  How would you ever make it without me, do you even have paper?” Laughing you agreed to come over Saturday and wrap what he had.  

“Of course I do.”

Knowing you were just hanging around the house and wrapping presents you put on yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt to head to Dean’s knowing he would be hanging out in sweats by now too.  Sure enough he answered the door in a grey henley and black sweats.  The fireplace was on in the living room and with the presents and wrapping paper on the coffee table.  Dean ordered pizza and found Die Hard on tv.  He was sitting on the couch watching you work, when you looked up at him.

“Are you planning on helping me at all or just watching?”

“Which answer won’t get me in trouble?” The bitch face you sent his way might rival Sam’s.  “I was kidding, I was just watching how you do it.  Very nice wrapping by the way.”  The roll of wrapping paper flying at him barely missed his arm. 

Two presents into Dean wrapping, you knew why he wanted help.  When the pizza arrived you set him free. Finishing the last gift you leaned back against the couch rolling your shoulders to loosen them up after being hunched over.  Dean was sitting up on the couch behind you and  leaned down to rub your stiff shoulders. 

“Thanks for that.”

“Least I could do for you wrapping those.”  Before you left for the night you put the gifts under his tree best you could.

You spent the next week trying to catch up with your own Christmas shopping, get the cards in the mail, and trying to find time to just enjoy the Holidays.  Friday night you, Charlie, Meg and Jess donned your best ugly sweaters and leggings, spending the evening at your place vegging out and watching movies.  

You woke up early Saturday morning to head to Dean’s house before he left. Knocking on his door he was surprised to see you.

“I just wanted to stop over before you left.  I brought you some of the desserts to take to your parents house.”  You had given Dean a plate of them the weekend before when you came over to wrap.  “I expect those to make it to Kansas so you better put them in the trunk.”

“I don’t know sweetheart, I might need a snack for the road.  Eleven hours is a long trip.”

“I figured you would, there is a bag of the cherry pie cookies in there for you.”

“You are too good to me.”  Giving you a kiss on the cheek he walked past you to put them in his car while you followed him over. 

“Do you need help doing anything before you go?”

“I’m all set, car is loaded, just have to refill the coffee in my travel mug, wash the pot and lock up the house.  

Waiting while Dean finished with his coffee you walked out to the car with him.  “Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas.  See you when you get back.”

“Thank you sweetheart.  Thanks for your help and the cookies. Have a Merry Christmas yourself.”  With a hug you walked to your own car watching the Impala drive away. 

You were definitely going to miss him this week. A little after one that afternoon you received a text from Dean saying he was in Springfield, Illinois and halfway there, he would text you when he arrived at his parents. Around seven, that text arrived along with a picture of a house you were guessing belonged to John and Mary. The two of you talked a few times over the week, he called later than usual Tuesday night, and seemed to be really down.  

On Christmas Eve you went to Mass with your family before heading to your parents house for dinner with your grandparents, some of your parents siblings, and cousins.  Games followed and a few hours later the house cleared out.  You spent the night there since you would be having Christmas morning there with your dad’s family.  Dean had texted you a few times throughout the day, Sam arrived today so you hoped he could help his brother with whatever was going on. 

Christmas morning you sent Dean a text before helping your mom with breakfast.  Your dad’s family spent the morning at the house before heading elsewhere for the afternoon.  Your mom’s family started coming over around 2, they stayed for dinner and games.  You loved your family but were glad to have an empty house spending time with your parents when everyone was gone.

That evening you went back to your apartment.  Sitting on the couch looking at your Christmas tree you saw a big gift bag Jess had dropped off before leaving town.  She told you you couldn’t open it till Christmas, that was now right?  Grabbing it you brought it back to the couch with you. 

First you pulled out a big oddly wrapped lump, unwrapping it you found a Chocolate Lab plush.  He reminded you of your dog you had growing up. The next item was a t-shirt that had you cracking up.  In the bottom of the bag was a card.

Y/N, 

I think this goes to show what we both already knew, I can’t wrap worth a damn.  This guy reminded me of the pictures I have seen in your apartment.  He might not be able to follow you around, or bark at strangers, but hopefully he can keep you company.  I got a laugh out of the shirt and I hope you do too.    

Merry Christmas Sweetheart,

Dean

  Dean called you later that evening.

“Hi, Merry Christmas Dean.”

“Merry Christmas to you Y/N.  How was your day?”

“It was good.  Scooby and I are relaxing back home now.”

“Good, um who’s Scooby?”

“This really cute chocolate lab plush that my good friend got me.  Thank you Dean, he’s great.”

“Not a problem Sweetheart. Glad you like him, Scooby?”

“That was my dog's name growing up, I was a big Scooby Doo fan.  Still am”

He started laughing, “So was I.  Yeah, I wouldn’t rush to change the channel if it was on now either.”

 The two of you talked more about your days.   He was ready to leave, but Sam and Jess were riding back with him, and he didn’t want to pull them away yet.  Something happened while he was home, he didn’t sound like himself.  If you had to guess it was why he called you Tuesday night.  You wondered if you would find out what that was.

Part 5

Thank you for reading!

Tags  @talesmaniac89​ @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie​ @deanwanddamons​​ @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth@anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83​ @atc74 @sandlee44​ @akshi8278  @fantasydevil2002

Falling For You tags- @halesandy​ @abuavnee​ @hearteyes-j2​ @vicmc624​ @440mxs-wife​ @wonder-cole  @maralisa124​ @krazykelly​​

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list and that you give these fics a lot of love.

Happy reading!

1) Your Good Time | Explicit | 3070 words

Louis nodded along with what the guy was saying, apparently his arousal taking over his brain to mouth filter as he said, “Who would want to hide a fit bloke like you? That guys an idiot.” Louis scoffed, dramatizing the word ‘idiot’, giving the guy a sly smirk. The guy leaned an arm against the bar, turned his body to Louis and fixed him with a curious look before he held out a hand.

“M’Harry.”

Louis and Harry meet in a bar when Harry's date is an ass. Inspired by Temporary Fix by One Direction.

2) I Push You To The Limits | Explicit | 3846 words

Louis is a brat who likes seeing his boyfriend get jealous and possessive over him.

3) Overkill | Explicit | 4354 words

Louis was never going to get over how fucking attractive Harry was. How glorious his big, tall, curvy body was. The feeling of Harry behind him, hot and heavy, trapped on the tube after they’d been somewhere during rush hour. His thick hands, full of pretty rings sometimes, handing Louis a cup of coffee, then getting one for himself.

4) Too Nervous to be Lovers | Mature | 6445 words

Louis doesn't want to spend quarantine with Harry, his straight roommate, who doesn't even acknowledge his existence.

5) Fratboy In Love | Mature | 6830 words

Harry Styles was a frat boy who loved to sleep around and flirt with boys and girls. Louis was a good uni student who loved to stay in and study and wasn't much of a partier.

Insert his best friend Niall who talks him into going. Louis gets drunk and ends up sleeping with harry. The next day he leaves before Harry wakes and tries to avoid him at all costs. Thinking Harry wouldn't care since Louis was just another conquest. But what if Harry did care. And actually have a crush on Louis. Read and find out

6) My Sunflower | Mature | 7057 words

Louis would rather be sunbathing at the beach with his friends, not slaving his spring break away in his father’s flower shop.

7) Waiting | Explicit | 8023 words

Louis Tomlinson was Harry’s omega, of this Harry had always been sure. Unfortunately for Harry, Louis seemed to think they were just best friends. The six weeks that Harry has to live with Louis were going to be rough.

8) Shine Light Upon Your Ground | Explicit | 8506 words

Note: The fic pairing is Louis/H, which the reader can picture as Harry or Henry Cavill.

Louis sighs again and fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist, twisting the charms around and petting the fake diamonds.

“How much for a night?” A deep voice suddenly asks him. The man who approaches him is already pulling out his wallet and flicking through a bundle of bills. Louis, who had been sitting at the bar completely innocent and minding his own business, lets out an offended, strangled sound.

“Excuse me?” He demands, straightening up in his seat. The hem of his dress creeps further up his thigh but he pays it no mind.

9) Glistening Under The Sun (You're My Honey Soaked Love) | Mature | 8996 words

“Oh Petal,” he picks her up nuzzling the top of her head with his cheek as she nibbles on the lavender, “How lucky are we? I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy, the only thing we have to be sad about is that soon I won’t be able to hold you like this,”

10) Connected To The Heart | Explicit | 9059 words

Note: This is an coda scene for this fic.

“Your stage cue is way too close for you to be wearing that look you’re wearing,” Louis informs him. He can’t stop himself from looking up at Harry through his eyelashes, the silk of Harry’s dress shirt brushing against the backs of his knuckles.

“Twenty minutes,” Harry agrees. His breath is minty from the gum he was chewing earlier, fresh and warm. “Twenty minutes can be a long time, baby.”

This time, Louis has to force himself to roll his eyes. “Not nearly long enough for the way you always want to fuck me.”

11) Fuck U Betta | Explicit | 11438 words

There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.

OR the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.

12) Kiss Me In Your Chevrolet | Explicit | 11569 words

"Yes, Lou?" Harry asked, rubbing his tired eyes. A gust of wind came through the open windows, sending chills down Harry's arms as a light rain began falling outside. He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back to the couch arm rest.

"Can we go there?" Louis asked, probably pointing somewhere. Harry opened his eyes and felt his heart jump in his chest, a magazine page a couple of inches away from his face. Startled, Harry closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to collect himself.

Harry blinked a few times to focus his eyes on the page Louis still held in front of his nose. "You want to go to the Grand Canyon?" He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the left to look at Louis' face.

13) Pull The Trigger | Explicit | 12007 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #16 on this list.

Louis has never been alright with killing. Will that change when he learns what it's like to be the one holding the gun?

14) Open All Night | Explicit | 12537 words

It’s six in the morning when Harry finally makes it back home.

Harry's a bartender, Louis' got a nice ass and a shit taste in men. They make it work.

15) Among Other Things | Explicit | 16073 words

“Harry, it’s 7:45, oh my god, my class starts at 8:15,” and Louis wants to cry. Harry’s busy under the bed trying to find the tiny silver key but Louis knows that fate just hates him and he needs to find a way to get up. “Harry, I—fuck,” Louis whines. Harry stands up in a rush.

“I can’t seem to find them. It. The key.”

Or, Louis’ the teacher of Harry Styles’ daughter. Their paths shouldn’t cross like this. This meaning Louis showing up to school handcuffed to a headboard.

16) A Bullet And It's Gun | Explicit | 18156 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #13 on this list. 

Louis’ parents arrange his marriage with Harry. He’s fully ready to accept that he’s going to be a sad and lonely person for the rest of his life. But then Harry starts proving himself as more than just an asocial man with money.

17) By Such Slight Ligaments | Explicit | 26764 words

Note: The fic pairing is Louis/Henry Cavill.

A late night visit to a patient sets off a series of events that will turn Louis' world upside down.

... Here there be monsters.

18) At Your Fingertips | Explicit | 27384 words

He finds himself wrapped up in sheets in bed on Thursday night, staring at the familiar name on a new story that was posted the night before.

His fingers twitch, ready to hit play and surrender to his impulses, saving the regret and turmoil for later.

And still he hesitates, internally praying that he’ll somehow gain the strength to exit out within the next few moments before he inevitably loses his patience and hits the button.

Three…

Two…

One.

Play.

19) Forgot My Roots Now Watch Me Bloom | Explicit | 28334 words

Lonely transit worker Louis pulls his longtime crush, Peter, from the path of an oncoming train. At the hospital, doctors report that he's in a coma, and a misplaced comment from Louis causes Peter's family to assume that he is his fiancée. When Louis doesn't correct them, they take him into their home and confidence. Things get even more complicated when he finds himself falling for Peter's brother, Harry. Loosely based on the movie "While You Were Sleeping".

20) Push You Out, Pull You Back In | Explicit | 31544 words

Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.

21) Baby Blue | Explicit | 39439 words

Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head.

He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin.

“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”

22) Lidocaine And Palm Trees | Explicit | 44653 words

Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.

Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.

Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.

A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.

23) Sleeping On Our Problems | Explicit | 67369 words

Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

24) Truth Would Be | Explicit | 91869 words

“You want me? I’m not a… a thing to be owned!” Louis stuttered, still very angry and confused.

“Hmmm…” The alpha tapped his lips as if he was contemplating something. “Last time I checked, the debt was paid off and the only thing I had asked in return was… you. So technically I do own you.”

“You are crazy…” Louis muttered as he began to back towards the door. Harry’s impossibly green eyes turned a shade darker, but his tone was still teasing and light when he said, “Maybe I am…”

The I-paid-off-all-your-debt-so-you-are-mine AU in which Omega Louis wants to be left alone by Alpha Harry but it's super complicated when he starts to not hate the alpha all that much.

25) Collision | Not Rated | 224594 words

Note: This fic was finished in 2018, but two new epilogue chapters have been added.

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

For the love of vocab cards.

Soo... another story written for @analogicalweek :D This is for day 5, prompt: Vocab cards. This again is a bit longer than my previous ones, but hopefully it’s worth it!

This is another College AU, Logan helps Virgil revise for an exam and leaves him a surpise to get through it on the day :) Hope you like it!

Taglist: @psychedelicships @edupunkn00b @jwillowwolf @look-ma-im-on-tv @kacklingisanart :) If anyone would like to be added, let me know! :D

For the love of vocab cards.

Word count: 1765

No warnings that I’m aware of :)

Virgil sat in an abandoned corner of the college library, just reading a textbook and finishing his third book of notes. He was desperately trying to revise for this exam tomorrow, but after four hours; his brain had reached its capacity of trying to retain information. It didn’t help that it was for a science exam and he hated that subject with a passion. There were too many long words with complicated meanings that he could never remember. He also just about understood equations when it came to math, but he had no idea how to apply them to science. Virgil belonged within the Performing Arts side of college, he loved music technology in particular and he loved creating all kinds of new music with the different pieces of equipment littered throughout the department. However, if he wanted to get onto next year’s course in Music Tech, he still had to pass the core subjects of math, english and science. Despite his unbridled hatred for the subject, he couldn’t help but smile whenever he remembered that he met Logan, his boyfriend of nearly two years, in the science labs.

It was the first day of class. They were assigned seats next to each other, and despite Virgil’s anxiety telling him otherwise, they seemed to get on extremely well. Logan was wearing a button up shirt, tailored trousers and large framed glasses, and Virgil had to admit that the ensemble looked amazing on him. Whereas Virgil was in his classic purple shirt, purple patchwork jacket and ripped jeans. They could not have looked like total opposites if they tried. Eventually the teacher started the class and was monotonously trying to explain the more complex concepts of the Periodic Table. Logan must have noticed just how confused Virgil was because he began to write something down on some blank vocabulary cards, all while Virgil stared at the whiteboard helplessly. After a while, Logan tapped Virgil lightly on the shoulder and he jumped. When he looked down at Logan’s hands, he was surprised at what he saw. It was a set of about ten vocabulary cards, and as Virgil took them and looked through them all, he could see that Logan had written out everything the teacher was explaining. However, Logan’s explanation was actually comprehensible, and Virgil genuinely started to understand the work they had been given. He looked at Logan who had a small but sincere smile on his face, and Virgil almost lost his words as he stared into Logan’s eyes. He managed to shyly utter a thank you to Logan while blushing an extremely bright shade of pink. Logan smiled back before turning his attention to the work before the teacher could inevitably come over and have a go at them. That’s where everything started.

Virgil was snapped out of this trip down memory lane by two hands covering his eyes. The familiar scent of aftershave and coffee reassured him about who was standing behind him. Their identity was confirmed with the light kiss on Virgil’s neck and a soft voice saying “Guess who? My Storm Cloud.” Virgil smiled and removed the hands gently from over his eyes.

“I couldn’t hazard a guess, Pocket Protector.” He turned and stood up to give Logan a much-needed hug for them both. He forgot that he said they’d meet after Logan had finished his extra revision session for the same exam. That was the only reassuring thing… they wouldn’t be able to talk or anything, but at least they’d be in the same room tomorrow.

Logan chuckled as he hid his face in Virgil’s neck. “How’s the revision going? Have you taken a break at all?”

“Horribly… I’ve been here for four hours and I still don’t understand a single word that I’m writing down. My brain is not absorbing any of this.” He sighed and was on the verge of crying. “What’s the point of me trying, Lo? I just need to accept that I won’t pass tomorrow.” He couldn’t stop a tear running down his cheek as he thought about how important tomorrow was. Logan closed the space between them, and softly wiped the tear off Virgil’s face. He lifted his chin up, making sure Virgil was looking into his eyes.

“Now you listen to me, Starlight. You are much smarter than you think, and you are stronger than you know. The main reason you’re struggling to remember things right now is because you’re stressed. You’ve cooped yourself into a small corner of this extremely large space and haven’t taken a break for a significant period of time. Let’s sit here and watch something while you drink this coffee I got you. I’ve finished my revision for this exam, so I’ll help you sort out some vocabulary cards for you to take in tomorrow before we go home. Sound good?” Logan looked at the smile starting to form on Virgil’s face and knew that he was okay. Virgil nodded as they sat down, and he snuggled up against a nearby wall with his coffee and took a sip while waiting for Logan.

“Ahh, you know my coffee order?” Virgil asked in a flirty voice as Logan set up his laptop and put on an episode of Parks and Rec. “Of course I do.” In a voice that made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

As they watched the episode, Logan ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair and kissed his forehead at random intervals because he loved how Virgil smiled every single time. When the coffee was finished, Logan got up and pulled over a chair to the table so they could finish the last bit of Virgil’s revision. They worked for an hour and Virgil felt more confident when he could answer the questions Logan asked him, that made him feel so much better.

“Alright, do you want to go now? I think we’ve covered everything. No more revising for you today, you’ve done more than enough!” Logan started to pack up Virgil’s things and Virgil looked relieved to be leaving.

“Yes please! I don’t think I could do anymore if I tried anyway. I really owe you for this, love. Let me go put these extra books away, I’ll be back in a minute.” He smiled and quickly kissed Logan before taking the books back to the shelves.

“Tell you what, write a song for me on your crazy music gadgets and we’ll call it even, okay?” Logan called out after Virgil as he walked away.

“You have a deal!” Virgil called back. He smiled and waited until Virgil was completely out of sight before grabbing some blank vocabulary cards and wrote on them furiously. He attached them to Virgil’s exam ones and put them into his bag just before he came back around the corner. Virgil stared at his boyfriend with a playful glare, knowing something suspicious had just happened, but then laughed before leaving the library hand in hand with his boyfriend going to Logan’s car.

They pulled up outside Virgil’s house, he grabbed his bag and Logan walked with him to the door. “Alright, so keep everything in your bag so it’s all in there for tomorrow. Get some food and watch something funny okay? I’ll pick you up in the morning.” He kissed Virgil gently, “I love you.” He turned to walk to the car, but Virgil pulled him back to kiss him again.

“I love you too! Thank you for today. I promise the song I’ll write for you will be the best one yet.” They both smiled and Logan reluctantly pulled away to head home. He still had some revision to do after all.

Morning came all too quickly. Virgil was feeling incredibly nervous as predicted, but he managed to have some breakfast and waited at the front door for Logan to arrive. He saw the car pull up and Logan beeped the horn twice as he normally did. He got out of the car and waited for Virgil to run up for their morning hug. He spun him around a couple of times which made Virgil laugh and kissed him.

“Are you ready to go? Everything is going to be okay. I promise.” Logan said with the most reassuring smile that made Virgil feel safe and secure.

“Yup. Might as well get this over and done with!” He smiled and got into the car. They turned the music up and sang along at the top of their lungs. Virgil would never admit that singing along to cheesy pop songs was his ultimate way to calm down.

They got to college and signed in before sorting their things and heading towards the exam room. Logan gave him a quick hug and they walked into the room together before finding their seats. They both looked amused when they realized that they were sitting next to each other, one row apart. Virgil took the opportunity to look the vocabulary cards over before they were allowed to start. He looked puzzled when he came across some that definitely weren’t there yesterday. His heart swelled when he read them one after the other.

‘You are amazing.’ ‘You are the smartest, most talented person I’ve ever met.’ ‘You can do absolutely anything the world throws at you. I know you can.’ ‘I’m so proud of you.’ ‘I love you to the ends of the unknown universe and back.’

 Virgil couldn’t hide his smile as he held the cards as close to his heart as possible. He turned to Logan who had clearly been watching him the entire time. He mouthed thank you at Logan, who winked in response. Just like that, they announced the start of the exam and Virgil immediately felt like he could do this. They both sneaked loving glances at each other throughout, a silent and unnoticeable gesture of encouragement. Then it was all over, and the relief was almost overwhelming.

When the results came through a few weeks later… Virgil was ecstatic to know that he passed, and unsurprised that Logan got full marks. He knew that without those vocabulary cards Logan made, he would never have believed in himself enough to do everything he could to pass the crucial test. Despite being complete opposites when they met, Virgil knew that now they were two halves of the same coin, they completed each other perfectly. There was only one thing left to do now…

He had one hell of a song to write for the one and only love of his life.

[pl-panda]

Damienette Arranged Marriage: Part 6

@justconfusedperiod​ Congratulation on guessing right. Only four people do :)

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Damienette arranged marriage: part 6

NEXT

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Happily, he took her hand and led her to the streets of Paris. Neither of them noticed a teenager in catsuit following them on the rooftops.

“I already lost my Lady. Nobody will take away my princess!”

Damian sat next to Marinette. She was laughing at his serious and focused face. The park around them was completely empty and they could enjoy privacy. The sun was slowly setting, covering the whole place with orange light, only adding to the charm. After their stroll through Paris and visit to small cafe near Seine, they stopped at the small park next to the Bakery.

“So let me get this straight. First you called your reporter friend from the crowd as Ladybug before zipping away…”

“It was a big deal back then! I always avoided media attention, or attention in general.”

“Okay, but then she showed you this video and you… deleted it?” His face was completely serious. 

“I told you I am a klutz.” She faux-frowned, but he knew she was only kidding.

“So then you stole her phone and spent whole day trying to recreate this, only to in the end fail, admit your mistake and as an apology get her interview with… yourself?” He tried to keep a straight face, but she noticed the corner of his mouth twitch.

“Oh! Shut up mousier I-hack-Pentagon-on-a-dare!” She laughed. Damian actually chuckled at this.

“Well, it’s not my fault Beast Boy is not that creative.” He grinned at Marinette. She also smiled. “Besides, their security already did need an upgrade. I only made sure to remind them about it.” 

This made her burst into laughter again, just after she calmed just a little bit. It took her several minutes to stop this time. “Thank you.” She smiled while wiping her tears.

“What for?”

“This.” She gestured her hand between the two of them. “I hadn’t have this much fun for a long time.

“I am flattered, but why?”

“Well… Since Lila returned my friends and I… We slowly drifted apart. The kidnapping just gave her a chance to solidify it.” She saddened at the thought.

“I am sorry then. If it wasn’t for my mother…”

“No!” She shouted at him. “It wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t blame yourself…” He interrupted her.

“And neither should you.” He had no idea why, but he felt like hugging her. One look in her blue-bell eyes and he was already melting. Pull it together Wayne! You are not some emotional school-girl. But then he saw a smile on her face and forgot what he was thinking. “You are an awesome superhero, great fashion designer and overall a ray of sunshine.”

“Th-thank you. I… I think… I really needed it. Luka is now often too busy with Lycee and upcoming exams for this elite music school and Kagami has to train triple for upcoming olympics. I… I haven’t have anyone to spend time with besides Tikki. I kinda forgot how is it like to have someone close.”

“I still don’t get it. Why don’t you just expose this liar. You have half of the people she talks about on speed dial and I can get you contact with the rest with one phone call.”

“If I did that, I would be just like her, flaunting my connections. And I don’t think it would do much good. She would get akumatized over it and in the end I would just endanger whole Paris for my own satisfaction…” She explained with resignation.

Damian huffed. This girl was too good for her own good. A true ray of sunshine compared to the grim reality of this world. “So I guess I will just need to buy myself some bleach.”

“Why would you need bleach?” She asked.

“Why? To clean the blood strains of course” He gave her a small smirk.

“Damian Wayne! I forbid you from killing Lila or anyone else for that matter! I… I will not let you.” 

“Relax. I was kidding. Mostly.” 

“Sorry. I guess I overreacted, huh?”

“Considering I am here incognito, I think you kinda did…”

“Oh Kwami!” She started to frantically look around. “I am so sorry. I completely forgot. I felt so at ease that I didn’t consider that someone might overhear me or even see us or just be nearby to pay attention. Now they will recognize you and you will have to run from swarm of reporters and probably have to go back to states and because of me you will have some troubles with your father or maybe he will forbid you from leaving home and lock you in your room so you don’t start scandal or…” She went into full ramble mode and started to walk flailing her hands until Damian gently grabbed her wrists and stopped her. She looked into his deep green eyes, still expecting to see anger or disappointment or disgust or something, but she saw no such thing in the end, only… compassion.

“Relax. Nobody heard you. And even if they did, I don’t think anyone would believe them.” He comforted her, but she was still in panic mode, only now much lesser.

“But…” She was about to start to ramble again when he placed a finger on her lips, shutting her up. 

“Don’t. there is no need to worry. I am willing to endure the swarms of reporters if it means I can stay here.” Really smooth Wayne… “What I mean is that I enjoy spending time with you and few red top journalists on my tail is small price for it.” He gave her a real genuine smile. This time, he didn’t try to hide it. He just decided to look into her bluebell eyes and enjoy the moment.

Marinette looked confused, still staring deep into his eyes. She took in his words and blushed new shade of red. “Uh… I... yhm… Ilikespendingtimewithyoutoo.” She quickly blurted a bit too loudly. Why is this so hard?!

Damian was about to say something, but he bit his tongue and instead just hugged her before she started to ramble. This girl was much too good for this world. Much too good for him. But yet, she was and she was there. He would do whatever it takes to protect her. Even if he had to skin some people alive and drop them back into the gutter they crawled from. 

-----------

After Marinette stopped hugging him, she bid Damian goodbye and returned home. She did not want to get grounded again, especially now that she finally had someone to spend time with. To her surprise her parents were already waiting down in the bakery, even if it was supposed to be already closed. Marinette suddenly had Deja Vu to the day she returned after her ‘disappearance’.

“Is it true that you went on a date today?” Her mother asked in emotionless voice. That was the scariest kind. 

“Um… Yes Maman. I did. A new guy came to our class today and after lessons were over he asked me out.”

“So this is not some complicated plot to just get this ‘Adrein’ boy to notice you?” Her father asked suspiciously.

“What!? Who told you that!?” Marinette screamed. Deep inside, she already had her suspicions, but this was new.

“Alya called. She said that she is worried about you. Apparently, you’ve been very mean to a certain classmate of yours, just because Adrien liked her better than you…” Her mother started to explain. “Honestly? We expected better from you. Lila is such a sweet girl. Even with her disease she still tries to pursue her dream and you make it so much harder because of a childish crush? And now you play with emotions of another boy just to get Adrien to notice you? I raised you better!” Her mother’s expression shifted to that of disgust.

Marinette had tears in her eyes. “I would never do such things. I don’t like Lila because of her lies, but I stopped doing anything against her.” She sobbed, feeling her muscles slowly giving up. “And I didn’t go out with Damian to make Adrien jealous. I genuinely like him. He is so calm and collected and at the same time funny and… and now Alya tried to ruin it too…” Her tears were now flowing freely.

Tom and Sabine looked at one another and rushed to Marinette, also crying. They hugged her tightly. “Mari… We are so sorry. We believed Alya without listening to your side and just went out accusing you... “ Her father hugged her tightly. Marinette slowly calmed, but still had tears on her cheeks.

“You work so hard just to help everyone and we should have known better. Will you forgive us?” Her mother asked.

“Yes maman, papa. I can’t stay angry at you for long.” marinette gave her parents a weak smile. “But I had enough emotions for one day so I will go to sleep early, okay?”

“Yes. Of course. Get yourself something sweet to better the mood, eh?” Her father nudged her. 

-------

Damian sneaked his way into the hotel, making sure Tim would not catch him. Not that this caffeine addicted replacement meant much to him, but the prince of assassin’s would much rather avoid unnecessary teasing or the need to dispose of a body this night.

Normally, no amount of teasing would really get to him, but this was something else. Honor demanded that he protected the name of his wife from slander. And while she might have forbidden him from going against her class or killing anyone, she did not really mention maiming. So some options were still open. If only he could actually reveal everything to the buffons that she calls classmates. He wanted to see… no scratch that, record their faces when he revealed them everything. when the little pyramid of lies and deception fell down and this harlot that dared to insult his betrothed would suffer fate worse than anything she could imagine.

Damian was actually grateful to Grayson that he allowed him to come here. If not, he would probably spend the next several months pacing around the mansion irritated or paining in complete seclusion. People at school noticed this change, but luckily no one was brave (stupid) enough to approach the ‘Ice Prince’ (Damian hated this nickname and made it clear at each occasion, but Bridgette didn’t care and this new Felix guy was too… indifferent to care. Strange guy he was. 

Truth was, Damian got it bad for Marinette. She was probably the first one outside of family who didn’t care who he was. Well, there was Raven too, but this was just a quick fling. They went out to hang out together maybe a total of three times without the rest of the Titans, but in the end they collectively decided that this will not work.

Still, Marinette was different than other girls around him. She did not see Wayne or Robin or the rich guy or prince of assassins, but Damian as a person. She showed care about him in most dire circumstances, even if she was in even more problematic one. At first sight, she was his complete opposite. He was a cold and emotionless ‘Ice Prince’, while she was a ray of sunshine that brighten everyone’s lives. He was rather selfish and had little care for people while she would give her last shirt to someone else and even offer to make adjustments. He was mysterious and kept everything to himself while she loved company. While she did not live for attention, she enjoyed spending time with others. And she was humble. From day one Damian was told he was special, he was taught that others were beneath him. Marinette had even more reasons to boast. She achieved everything she wanted with her own work. She was not born rich, powerful or strong, but she worked for her success. And yet she chose to stay humble and instead motivate others to work harder. Day and night, Angel and Demon, Sun and Moon, Hero and Vigilante. A match made in hell by the devil himself. Actually, by my mother, but that’s as close as I can get this days. Damian smiled to himself before returning to his thoughts.

They were different on the first look, but in fact they were very similar. At their cores (at least from his impression so far), they were strong, independent, brave, honorable and loyal. While Damian had little care for most people, he deeply cared for innocent animals who did nothing wrong. Marinette shared the same care, but for people. She protected the innocent. Even if he would never admit it, Damian was actually quite emotional. He had to learn from childhood to hide it and suppress his emotions, but it didn’t mean they were gone. But now, it was a mask that brought him comfort. Only that with Marinette he did not need to act like someone else. He did not need to show cool and collected Wayne, he didn’t need to be a professional Robin, there was no need for the mask of rich guy or cold prince of assassins. He could share with her. He didn’t need to have any secrets and she trusted him with all of hers. Like that she used to have a crush on a guy from her class, but now she pretty much despised him. Or that she stole an unhealthy amount of phones from people. In turn, he revealed some of his deepest secrets and more embarrassing stories. She was maybe the second person to learn the truth behind his name. Damian means to tame and his mother named him that because he was ultimate proof that she tamed The Bat. He expected her to laugh, but instead she pulled him into a hug to comfort him. He also revealed that he loved painting and went as far as to sketch her. She was happy to pose as long as he in turn allowed her to take measurements. 

Marinette brought out what was best in him and he would be damned if he let her just suffer in silence. 

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[naitiaclo960writings]

Day 5 - Daydream

Castiel sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time since he got back from his break. Don’t get him wrong, he loved that part-time librarian job he got on the campus of his university. Mainly because it helped him earn a little extra money, but also because this work pushed him to meet a whole bunch of different people in an environment that he liked.

If one had to stick to the classical patterns of students, Castiel certainly belonged to the nerds club. He was rather reserved and always immersed in a book, in his revisions or, why not, absorbed by a game on his phone. Fortunately, Castiel did not wear glasses and did not know how to recite all the decimals of Pi to perfectly fit the cliché, otherwise, he was convinced that he would have far fewer friends than now. That was the sad reality around here…

However, he continued to be greedy for new encounters, convinced that each person possessed a unique beauty that he longed to discover. All this, however, contrasted with his unrecoverable shyness, prompting him to babble in situations where he was under social pressure. Thus, this work was perfect for him: he did not have to go to others, it was the whole university that came to him. Some came to renew their student cards, others came to borrow books or ask for advice on their homework and the rest just liked to go to the library to have a quiet place to indulge in their extracurricular activities.

To top it all off, his work did not require too much effort. Castiel was mainly in charge of restocking, setting up new books and welcoming students. As a result, he had enough free time to get bored and start imagining the life of every person passing the threshold of the library. Austin Southwest Institute of Technology was not particularly large, but it had enough students for Castiel to have not yet managed to learn all the faces yet.

There was one person, however, whom he found himself waiting for impatiently every day. It was obviously irrational, this boy did not pay him any particular attention, only making small talks a few minutes before leaving to sit in a corner of the library with a headset shouting classic rock in the ears for hours. But whatever the nature of their exchange, Castiel was dying to see even the hint of a smile addressed to him on the wonderful face of Dean Winchester.

Castiel sighed with spite. Damn it, he was ridiculous. He was no better than those starry-eyed girls drooling in front of the school jocks.

…Was Dean a sportsperson by the way? It was clear that he looked pretty muscular under his over-sized shirts. One day when it was particularly hot outside, Castiel even had the privilege of seeing him in a t-shirt, his muscular arms exposed to the sun filtering through the windows and… Okay, Dean was definitely athletic. In fact, Dean seemed perfect in every way, which was embarrassing because he knew very little about the dude…

The first time he had met him—if you could call it a meeting—was three months earlier, at the start of the school year, when Dean came to ask for his library card. That smile in his voice had been immediately communicative and Castiel had stuttered like an idiot after each of his jokes. He was still blushing when he thought about it…

Talking about a crush might not be too much in this case, but Castiel felt so helpless in the face of this situation. If he’d been a little braver, he’d have asked Dean on a date a long time ago. Instead, he spent his days hoping to see him at the corner of a shelf and daydreaming about a potential early relationship with him, even if it was a friendly one.

Still, Castiel was sure that being friends with Dean wasn’t complicated. He always seemed cheerful and friendly, never out of conversation and above all, very devoted to others. Sometimes he would lean on Castiel’s desk to talk for at least fifteen minutes, talking about everything really until another student complained that he was making too much noise. These were undoubtedly the days Castiel preferred. Although Dean was very inconspicuous and attracted a lot of glares when he laughed at Castiel’s jokes — although he did not see why his words were funny —, Castiel could not bring himself to gently call him to order. His laughter was too captivating for that.

"Cassie?" A voice suddenly echoed behind Castiel.

This one was taken away from his delusions and turned around. Balthazar, another two-year-older student also working at the library, appeared and saw the absent look on his colleague’s face.

"Okay…" Balthazar sighed. "I’m not going to ask you what you were thinking about because the conversation is going to revolve around that Winchester boy and annoy me again. So…” He turned around to point to a wagon, ignoring Castiel’s jaded pout. "We received this week’s order. It’s your turn to put them in the shelves.

"It’s always my turn to put them in the shelves." Castiel deplored, moving towards the wagon, while rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget those on the reserve either." Balthazar gave him a mocking smile before coming to take his place at the reception, taking out his phone without any more consideration.

Castiel shrugged and set to work. Among the shelves, it was more difficult to have a view of the entrance to the library and therefore of Dean’s arrival. But after a quick look at the clock, he realized it was already past 4:00 p.m. Castiel pinched his lips, unable not to feel this hint of disappointment at the idea that Dean would probably not come today. Suddenly, his already boring day was turning into a really bad day.

He was still dreaming of everything he could have talked about with Dean today when his foot tripped over a piece of warped linoleum and made him fall to the ground in a big crash. The books he carried in his arms were scattered on the ground while Castiel grumbled, attracting the curious glances of several students. Great… When was the day supposed to end already? Shameful, Castiel began to rise slowly, his eyes fixed on the ground, before hearing a slight embarrassed laugh.

However, he knew this sound far more than any other in this library. Biting his tongue of apprehension, Castiel raised his eyes to the source of laughter. Dean had just knelt beside him, his own affairs in his arms and looking at him with uncertainty.

"You’re okay?" He simply asked, and Castiel could not help shaking his head foolishly.

"Yes, no, it’s okay." He blushed slightly, growling inwardly. "I was distracted…"

Dean hummed softly and put down his notebooks before he began to help him pick up the books. Castiel remained stupidly motionless for a moment before imitating him, swallowing loudly. What could he have done to deserve such a humiliation today? However, Dean did not make any more fun of him and Castiel allowed himself to relax gently, glancing at Dean from time to time.

"I hate this alley too." Dean went on with a compassionate smile. "I must have stumbled at least a hundred times on the damn floor. It’s a shame, the books are rather interesting around here, but it’s at our peril." He let out a little amused sigh.

Castiel smiled back, grateful to the reassuring tone of the other student. However, he did not have time to reply that Dean resumed.

"Oh man!" He exclaimed, bringing a book to himself before smiling at the cover. "They seriously wrote a whole book about the Pi value? Damn it, my little brother taught me at least the first ten decimals of this thing."

Castiel suspended his movement before raising wide eyes to Dean.

"Really?" He asked, in disbelief, while tilting his head slightly.

This time, it was Dean’s turn to appear embarrassed and, if Castiel thought that his smile was the most beautiful expression of his face, it was only because he had never seen his cheeks turning red before. Dean raised his eyebrows toward him and scratched the back of his neck distractedly before resuming his task.

"Yeah, he loves math…" He mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Castiel felt a laughter rising in his belly without ever passing the barrier of his lips. Dean Winchester knew Pi’s decimals. He could not prevent a dumbstruck smile to come up his face.

"I think it's... cool." Castiel said after a while.

These few words had the effect of relaxing Dean somewhat, who smiled back at him after a shy look.

"Me too." Dean admitted, nodding. "He’s four years younger than me, but he’s got the brains." 

Castiel lapped up everything Dean said like a thirsty man. Every detail about Dean mattered to him, and just the proud tone he used in speaking of his younger brother was enough to reinforce the emerging affection Castiel had for him. With a light heart, he lowered his eyes again to pick up the last books when his attention was drawn to a piece of paper flying close to him. Frowning, he intercepted it and nearly lost his breath when he discovered what was on it.

Some would have lingered on the beauty of the drawings before their eyes, the confident features and the shades of gray reflecting volumes to perfection. Some were wonderfully detailed and others more quickly executed, giving them a certain charm. Honestly, Castiel would surely have looked into all this himself if he had not immediately recognized his face on each of these drafts. He remained frozen in front of these miniature representations, his eyes jumping from one drawing to another. He recognized himself on each illustration: him storing books on a particularly high shelf, him bored at the desk or helping Jack with his human sciences’ homework as every Tuesday. The majority of the drawings appeared to be made from the same angle, but each breathed a surprising delicacy.

"Whoops!" Dean suddenly exclaimed. "I think that’s mine."

When he tried to take the piece of paper back, Castiel withdrew out of reach and continued to examine the sketches. Dean blushed more and more, biting his lip with mortification. Finally, in the face of Castiel’s silence, he let out an embarrassed little laugh that could not hide his anguish.

"I… Yeah, uh… My brother is more of a scientist, but… I prefer to draw." He muttered before swallowing with difficulty." "But I can assure you that I am not freak with a weirdo obsession!" Dean added in haste. "It’s just that… the light is super good here and… Uh…"

Castiel nodded slowly before turning his gaze of admiration to Dean. This one swallowed again, playing nervously with the zipper of his leather jacket. Castiel felt exhilarated, the fragile hope at the bottom of his chest never ceasing to send bursts of happiness into the rest of his body. When he offered Dean a big, hesitant smile, he saw Dean’s shoulders relaxing slightly.

"I find it very successful. No one had ever drawn me before." Castiel confessed, sincere.

Dean let out a deep sigh that amused Castiel a bit more.

"Okay, great, because I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest." Dean joked, not without a look still somewhat shameful, like a child caught in the act.

The two of them gathered the rest of the books and Castiel returned his drawings to Dean. At this precise moment, their looks crossed and none broke eye contact, their fingers brushing around the piece of paper. Finally, Castiel carefully followed the ridge of Dean’s nose until he reached his full lips soon joined by a piece of pink tongue that slowly moistened them. Castiel took a deep inspiration to try to stay composed, having the unpleasant impression that it did not work at all in front of these green and piercing eyes.

"Do you know which other place has great light?" Dean suddenly asked, Castiel’s attention jumping instantly from his lips to his eyes.

"Tell me?" He replied, bending his head to the side again.

"Bobby’s café three blocks from here, on the main avenue." Dean smiled with a pout that twisted Castiel’s stomach in all the right ways. "Tomorrow, 5:00 p.m.? I think I really need to practice my shadows…"

And although Castiel wanted to contradict him on the quality of his drawings, he felt his throat tightening to Dean’s words. Was it a date? Because it sounded dangerously as such and Castiel could not wrap his mind around it right now. He was probably in the middle of another one of his daydreams, wasn’t he?

"Of course, if I can help…" The words left his throat by themselves and Castiel was almost sure to gain a few more colors.

"Great!" Dean exclaimed, his lips stretching out in another dazzling smile. "Wait, take this in case you can’t find the address."

Immediately, Dean took a pen out of his bag to come and scribble on the paper with his drawings. When he handed it to Castiel, he noticed a telephone number with Dean’s first name beside it accompanied by a smiling smiley face. Castiel remained foolishly in front of the paper, his body having apparently stopped consulting his brain to make him ridiculous.

"T-Thank-"

"Gee, I have to go!" Dean cut him off, checking his cell phone. He put a warm hand on Castiel’s shoulder before he started to walk away. "I’ll pick you up tomorrow after work, okay? We’ll walk together to the café. See you later!"

And just like that, he was gone. Castiel was still trying to figure out what had happened. Dean asked him out on a date, handing him his telephone number to give him the address before telling him that he would pick him up directly from the library. Dean who secretly drew him from God knows how long or even used a nickname at the end of their conversation. Oh and, also: Dean Winchester asked him out on a freaking date.

When the reason of his daydreams was definitely out of sight, Castiel looked again at the piece of paper before feeling a broad smile covering his face. He sighed before folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket. It was good to have dreams.

* * * @winchester-reload Some more tooth-rotting Destiel fluff for you, hope you enjoyed it!

You can find the whole series on Ao3

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[irameii]

You ||: JUYEON

Warnings: none really

Summary: I love you y/n

Juyeon:"Prettys on the inside y/n"

Y/n:"I know , I know Juyeon but common. Do you see her though. Shes just so much prettier than me"*sigh*

The male just looks at me . From the way he looks, almost like hes upset is enough to get me to stop talking about our college campus beauty.

Juyeon:"You'll see eventually, look closer in the mirror. y/n and you can see it. Its all on the inside. "

Y/n: "Alright alright. Hey Juyeon, help me pick out my outfit for my date today?"

Juyeon: *Hesitates* today? Um, sure. What time ?

Y/n: once our 1 pm class is over? He said theres this garden he wants to show me so I want to look as pretty as the flowers that will be there.

Juyeon: *light chuckle*alright y/n

Y/n: thank you Juyeonieee !!!! *skips away to class *

OtherPOV

Juyeon sees as his bestfriend happily skips away. Letting out a heavy sigh. Feeling a knowing feeling he knows all too well. He loves Y/n. But she has a Boyfriend so he cant do anything about it. Your smile, your laugh, you. It was you. It was complicated.

*Later that evening*

Juyeon sat on your couch while you went to get different outfits. The sound of your rambling when you were choosing outfits to show Juyeon made him laugh to himself.

Y/n: OMG Juyeon. Look okay so how about this skirt with this top? Or should we keep it classic with this top and a pair of ripped jeans?

Juyeon: *finger on chin* mmm both look good. But what do you feel more comfortable in? You will be wearing it for a few hours, and it might get slightly colder tonight.

Y/n: true *looks at self* so the top with the jeans? With a loose upward pony tail??* turns around to look at Juyeon*

Juyeon: uh yeah... That'd be nice.

Y/n : okay !!thank you Juyeonieee . Im gonna go ahead and get ready, stay till i leave so you can help me see how it looks !!! * skips along to bedroom*

Again. He slightly chuckles as he watches you leave. You had that habit. Everytime he said or did something for you you would always call him Juyeonie and skip along almost like an innocence he loved about you. Or when you'd simply look up at him to smile, he loved it about you. The way your eyes would go big and then your eyebrows would go up and down with your mouth slightly open when you'd try to get his attention to make him lose concentration cause you'd gotten bored studying. He enjoyed your habits. Thats when he realized he loved you.

Y/n: Juyeon!!! Help me with this hairclip.

Juyeon: *opens clip and places on head* is this the one i got you?

Y/n: *turns around, looks up* yeah, its really pretty .

Juyeon: yeah..... *looks away with a slight blush*

Y/n: okay. So how do I look? *spins*

Juyeon: * smile forming* Beautiful. You look beautiful y/n...

Y/n: Thank you Juyeonieee.❤I'll see you then!!!. Thanks for helping meee. I'll tell you how it goes!!

Juyeon: okay....

Juyeon didnt want to hear it though. How your boyfriend makes your heat skip a beat. How that smile you give Juyeon was bigger when you were with your boyfriend. How he made you feel in love.... But he was your bestfriend.... And talking about it made you happy, but he felt Jealous.. The way hed get to hold your hand. Or the way youd hug him, or let him lay his head in your lap... He felt jealous.... But there wasnt anything he could do....he was just your bestfriend.

Next day

There were marks on your neck. Evident that your date with your boyfriend went well. But it didnt sit well with Juyeon the moment he saw them.

Juyeon: whats this?

He says it with a different tone than you're used to as he pulls your hair back away from your neck to see them. Things got heated between you and your boyfriend last night, you didnt think anyone would notice since you tried hiding it with makeup but it seems it didnt get passed Juyeon though.

Y/n: * slightly steps back* things got a little heated last night after the date. I tried to cover them up though.

You dont notice the look he gives you as you look away and focus back on the teacher. You heard a clicking sound from him but when you looked at him he turned back to the teacher.

Juyeon was acting off the following days.. He started talking to the college campus beauty and her friends. He would walk her to and from class. And would swing by her table before finding his was to you Which was odd since he said he didnt really like girls who wore so much makeup because it hides their natural beauty. So it was odd that he suddenly had interest in them now. Saying you were feeling a little jealous was something you didnt want to come to terms with. But you couldnt do anyrhing about it since you guys were just friends so you decided to ignore it but youd steal glances every now and then and its make your chest tight. And the way he talks to you were just short responses maybe a hey here and there but that was all.

After the next 3 weeks he would do it. Casually put his arm around her and laugh out loud when you would walk past him. And eventually you had enough of it. And decided to confront him.

Y/n: Juyeon

*silence*

Y/n: Juyeon

*silence*

Tired you pull him by his shirt collar outside to the back of the library.

Y/n: whats up with you? Why have you suddenly changed??

Juyeon: why? Whats wrong with wanting to talk to others ?

Y/n: you know thats not what I mean Juyeon. You have hardly been speaking to me and now its now to nearly nothing. Something is wrong. Please......

*Bell rings*

Y/n:*sigh* meet me at my place to talk Juyeon. I mean it.

You turn to leave , not letting him give you a response. He stood there frozen. Not knowing what to do. He knew if he went , he might mess up and confessing... He didnt know what to do. The desperate look on your face almost made him confess right there. But he bit his tongue.

Lunch time

Juyeon: hey y/n.... I cant make it. Im sorry.

Y/n: LEE JUYEON you WILL come no matter what time it is. Ill wait for you to come. I dont want us to be like this anymore. Please come.

*puppy eyes*

You wre doing it again... Making him speechless... Making him give into you... He didnt want that look on your face. He wanted you to look at him... But not with those eyes... Not ones with sadness and dissapointment in them...

Juyeon:okay...

Y/n POV

It was 10pm and he still hasnt come... Maybe I did something wrong..

My bf isnt talking to me either... I kept complaining about Juyeon not talking to me anymore and how things were different and he snapped . He didnt want to hear about him anymore and said we should take a break since he said i need to determine who i like more. Him or my bestfriend... Now Ive lost both of them....*sigh*.... *falls alseep*

You didnt hear the door click open. Juyeon had an extra key for when you were sick or needed something and hed fetch it for you. Your boyfriend was always busy except every now and then so giving him one wouldnt have much of a purpose. If you were sick he'd call and say he felt bad you were sick but since he had a weak immune system and didnt want both him and you sick he wouldnt come. But Juyeon never hesitated to. Hed hold up your hair as you would throw up and rub your back for you. He'd wipe you down to lower your body temperature. He'd try and cook porridge and end up messing up it up and calling his mom to make some that was edible instead for you. It was always Juyeon. The one who would remind you that you looked best with bed hair and baggy pjs and tshirts when hed surprise you in the mornings if you had an exam to make sure you ate a good breakfas because that was when you were most comfortable.

But to you. It was all platonic. So you knew better than to fall for him like that...

Blissful in sleep you wake to Juyeon on his knees infront of you. He didnt wake you. He just layed his head on your little table facing you.

You really didn't realize it. But you couldnt help but start to admire him. The way his eyelashes casted a shadow on his cheeks. The way his lips formed a slight pout. You felt yourself smiling. You reach to move a piece of hair out of his face but you quickly retract your hand and turn around and pretend to sleep when you feel he's waking up.

After 5 minutes pass. You hear shuffling. Then a voice in a so quiet almost in a whisper you hear him sigh then ... He starts...

Juyeon:

Y/n.... I like your eyes, and how you look away when you pretend not to care* chuckle*....I like the dimples on the corners of the smile that you wear when you see me.*looks towards the ground* The world may not know but I do. I loved you for so long y/n, sometimes it's hard to bear with it .But after all this time, I hope you can wait and see ... See that Ive loved you every minute.... every second.... I'll love you anywhere and any moment for every moment.Always and forever.... I know ....its wrong... I don't know how its come to this... I cant help that I love the little things about you, like when you're unaware...I catch you steal a glance towards me at times and smile , maybe I misunderstood it... And then sometimes when life brings me down. You're there.... you're the one, I don't know how but it feels like in a world devoid of life, you bring color to it. You are the color in a black and white painting. And in your eyes I see the light. A light i want to follow forever and protect....I love you y/n..... But you're not mine...

He goes quiet again. You slightly turn around to see Juyeon with his face in his hands. Tears running down. Trying to quietly hide his pain..

You reach your hand out to him, and pull his hand away from his face. He looks up at you in shock. But then he quickly turns away. Something about looking at his sad and teary eyes made you lost for words..

Y/n:Juyeon...

You pull him closer to you. Hug him tightly and slowly feel him wrap his arms around you.

Its quiet... As you pet his hair, you can feel his breathing become slower.. He's fallen asleep. You strech your head to see his face. Its stained with tears... His nose a light shade of pink... And his lips in a small pout....

Almost as if on cue, his eyes flutter open and look at you . And as he quietly looks at you you whisper back....

Y/n: ..... I love you too Juyeon...

Juyeon:..... Huh? Wait what?

Now he was fully awake now. And it looked like he was trying to see if he was dreaming. And with a giggle you turn his face to yours and press them together with his. As shock spreads on his face you smile at him and repeat the words

Y/n: I love you Juyeon

And almost instantly he smiles a smile bigger than you've seen and this time he is the one who grabs your face and presses a kiss to your lips. He presses his forehead against yours and chuckles to himself as he closes his eyes and smiles

Juyeon: Im glad... Im glad I came....

THE END

Gif credits to owners

I didnt really like this one but ehhhhh im slowly trying to get better guys...

*I did not proof read it so my bad

[neroushalvaus]

Top 10 favourite characters from any fandom

I was tagged by @limalepakko , thank you! Since I have recently listed male characters here (or you know, in August, but we all know time hasn't been a thing for many moons), I took the liberty to list characters in general this time. I also went with which characters feel right at the moment, so does not show all my favourites. I also try to keep these short. (edit: okay so these are not remotely short, I will post a list first and have the explanations be under the cut, read if you want to hear my ramblings c': )

1. Fantine, Les Misérables 2. Javert / Jean Valjean, Les Misérables (yes i am cheating) 3. Carrie "Big Boo" Black, Orange Is the New Black 4. Jane Marple, Agatha Christie's Marple 5. Aunt Lydia, The Handmaid's Tale 6. Bridget Jones, Bridget Jones books & movies 7. Rock Lee, Naruto 8. Sarah O'Brien, Downton Abbey 9. Marilla Cuthbert, Anne of Green Gables / Anne with an E 10. Sister Monica Joan, Call the Midwife

*

1. Fantine, Les Misérables

I love Fantine with all my heart. I remember reading Les Mis for the first time and her story sending chills down my spine. Her character development makes me so sad, from a girl who falls hard and fast and won't deny anything from her lover, to a woman who is so beaten down by society that she can't do anything but laugh at her fate. But I love how she doesn't lose her pride or her fighting spirit and how she still has the guts to spit in Valjean's face when she sees him after being arrested. And I love how all she does is for her daughter and how despite selling "the gold on her head and the pearls in her mouth" she is content, because all that matters to her is that Cosette will live.

*

2. Javert & Jean Valjean, Les Misérables

I was really trying to limit this list to one character per fandom, but alas, I am but a weak little person. Thus, I am cheating already. The thing is that when it comes to Les Mis characters, Fantine, Javert and Valjean are the eternal top 3 for me, but I'm never quite able to say who I love the most. Last time I picked Javert for the male character meme because I love the symbolism and critique of society his character embodies, but let it be known that Jean Valjean is the best character in all of literature and I will fight you on this. The original soft on crime icon (aside from Jesus Christ but they're the same and you know it). Valjean's character journey is such a complicated one from an ordinary man (no worse than any man) to a person, who had been shaped by society and criminal justice system to be a very dangerous man, to someone you could compare to a saint if you wanted to... To an ordinary man, who would do anything for his daughter. He has so many character-defining moments, the biggest ones being in my opinion the trial of Champmathieu and letting Javert go instead of killing him. I just love Jean Valjean so much and could speak about him for hours.

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3. Carrie "Big Boo" Black, Orange Is the New Black

Hopping away from the Les Mis hole and into a OITNB hole. I was debating on whether I'd put Boo or Pennsatucky on this list since I love them both so much, but I've been feeling so much love for my angry butch king that it had to be her. First of all, I'm just so happy to see butch lesbian representation where the butch identity is not just a joke. I know OITNB sometimes uses Boo questionably, but in general she is a nuanced character and one of the most interesting ones in the series in my opinion. I'm so sad they forgot all about her on the last seasons. I love everything about her, how she has trouble with feelings besides anger and often deflects serious stuff through humor, how fiercely protective she is of those she loves (boosatucky otp forever fucking fight me), how proud she is of her butch identity ("i refuse to be invisible")... Also, not to express attraction, but... Mama I'm in love with a criminal. And not to be a slut for how characters view religion/spirituality/God, but the relieved smile she has in one of her flashbacks when she says "there's no God... there's nothing", like you can't just do stuff like that and expect me not to love the character to bits.

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4. Jane Marple, Agatha Christie's Marple

Last time I listed Poirot and was a bit frustrated I couldn't list Marple, but now it's time to right that wrong! I love this little old lady so much. I love Agatha Christie so much for just going "you know who is the person who knows everything that's going on in a community, and thus would make the perfect detective for a detective story? the nosy old woman". As she is introduced in The Murder at the Vicarage: "Miss Marple is a white-haired old lady with a gentle, appealing manner — Miss Weatherby is a mixture of vinegar and gush. Of the two Miss Marple is much more dangerous." She is so likable and witty, you can't help but love her. My favourite portrayal of her is by Geraldine McEwan, she looks so gentle but has such a sharp gaze. I would spill all my secrets to her any day. I also am compelled to tell you that when I was a child we had a costume party at my school and I dressed up as Marple and learned some old lady things in English (it was before third grade so I didn't know much English back then) just for the occasion (such as "thank you, my dear", "what a lovely necklace you are wearing" or "there has been a murder"). Teacher might have thought me rather morbid but I remember that day being quite good.

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5. Aunt Lydia, The Handmaid's Tale

The Handmaid's Tale is such a great series and a book and Aunt Lydia is such a great character. The way she's capable of being absolutely cruel and vicious, but how she is also protective and caring in her own way. One of my favourite scenes in this series is when Serena Joy (my other favourite, can you tell) tells Lydia to "remove the damaged ones" from a line of handmaids and Lydia tries to argue with her. Sure, she is responsible for some of the punishments these women are now "damaged" by, but she truly believes those punishments were for a greater good and now the handmaids deserve their place with the others as much as anyone else. It is chilling and the character is such a dark shade of morally gray, but I can't get enough of it. The actress who plays her, Ann Dowd, has so interesting thoughts about her, like here. I just love this character so much I could scream.

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6. Bridget Jones, Bridget Jones books & movies

I'm mostly talking about the movies here because Renée Zellweger's performance is iconic. Plus the movies are what made me love this character first. But I'll give it to the books, they're one of the few books I've laughed out loud while reading. Anyway, how do you even begin explaining the love I have for Bridget Jones... I love how she is a character so many people can relate but who would be a comic relief side character in some other story. Yes, yes, it is really bad that she is constantly described as fat when she really is not, but when I was growing up she gave me hope that people who are viewed as fat and/or unattractive by other people can be admired and appreciated, and they don't have to be super talented at everything and highly intelligent and some kind of a super smooth social butterfly to "make up" for what they "lack". And also that they can have standards (i once dodged a bullet by rejecting someone by pretty much subconsciously quoting Bridget Jones so..). I also love how the comedic tone of everything does not dismiss Bridget's feelings. For example in some other movie we maybe would concentrate on how "stupid" Bridget was to trust that Daniel was in love with her, but in Bridget Jones we concentrate on how Bridget was hurt by Daniel cheating on her, how he is the one who did wrong. Idk I just love Bridget Jones so very much can you tell.

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7. Rock Lee, Naruto

Aka the boy who would have kicked Madara in the balls if Kishimoto had any sense of drama and good storytelling. I think I robbed Lee by not putting him on the fav male characters list. You know that post that goes like "gays be like 'these are my comfort characters', 1 literal ray of sunshine, 2 war criminal" etc? This child is the sunshine. I've been reading and watching Naruto again ( @hapanmaitogai is my sideblog for that nonsense) and I'm so ready to adopt Lee and/or Gai. Rock Lee is just such an earnest character, he has a goal he will give anything to achieve and he's the one true underdog in this manga. I love how he's so kind and polite (it's not so clear in English but in the Finnish translation he speaks as formally as he does in Japanese, he uses singular polite "you", calls Sakura "Sakura-neiti" = "Miss Sakura" etc... i love one polite boy). Also, he has the best fights in the series. Like Lee vs Gaara is a Classic, but we simply can't forget that time Lee absolutely crushed Sasuke in just a few minutes, or that time he politely asked Kimimaro not to kill him while he drinks his medicine. The best boy. I love that boy so much.

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8. Sarah O'Brien, Downton Abbey

Last time it was Thomas' turn, so now I must talk about the snakiest snake, the queen of weaponized handmaidenry, Miss O'Brien. She is such a great character especially in the first two seasons (I obviously love her on season three as well but Julian Fellowes really tried to make it hard by not explaining her actions at all, didn't he. Well, luckily I am ready to stuff the gaps with my headcanons). She has some of the best comebacks in the series and brings some needed realism in some conversations. I also love how she uses her position as a lady's maid for her advantage and how she is proud of her profession despite being highly aware of the power structures in the Abbey. And then there is the soap. That is such a good character moment, because for a character who always plans ahead, who is ruthless and cunning and intelligent... I don't think O'Brien thought about the soap thing at all before she left the room ("Sarah O'Brien, this is not who you are" hit me like a train). Just once she did something with nothing but anger motivating her and that became one of the defining moments of her character. And one of the defining things of the future relationship between her and Cora. That's why I find the Sarah/Cora ship so interesting, because there will always be the undercurrent of bitter regret. Also Sarah O'Brien and Thomas Barrow are the greatest brotp and Fellowes was a coward for driving the smoking scheming gay best friends apart, and

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9. Marilla Cuthbert, Anne of Green Gables / Anne with an E

I'm not saying L.M. Montgomery is entirely responsible for me having a fondness for strict, older women who first act unkind but have a heart of gold, but she most certainly did not help. Between characters like Marilla Cuthbert and Elizabeth Murray, how can you not fall in love with the type? It's been a while since I read the Anne series, but I really love how Marilla's character has been adapted into the Anne with an E tv series. Geraldine James looks like she was born to play her, she has me in tears so often. She has the ability to portray someone like Marilla, who is a very hard and stern person but feels deeply for her loved ones. I was watching the episode that dealt with Matthew's heart attack and Marilla berating her brother while hugging herself like she was trying so hard to hold herself together absolutely destroyed my heart.

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10. Sister Monica Joan, Call the Midwife

It was a tough choice between her and Sister Evangelina. I just love these nuns very much. Sister Monica Joan is such a lovable and wise character. She is so knowledgeable of many subjects, from the Bible to astrology, and I feel like her unspecified memory problems and confusion are handled very tastefully. I also love how she's such an important part of her community despite not working as a midwife anymore. She is such a kind woman and gets visibly upset when others are treated poorly. And how could I not mention her saying "I do not believe in weeds. A weed is simply a flower that someone decides is in the wrong place", like... I love her so so much.

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I won't tag anyone, but if you read this and you want to do this, consider yourself tagged and you're no allowed to mark me as the one who tagged you!

[venusofthehardsells]

Dreamgirl [part 6]

ReaderxBucky Barnes

[part 5]

Summary: Bucky tries to adjust to his new life in the Avengers compound. One day he meets a girl who might be everything he needs in order to move on, but is his past really that far away? Warnings: blood/violence-ish, therapy sessions, talk of mental instability, self-hate galore, Bucky is very distressed, what is plot (general series warnings include noncon and dark themes) A/N: Part 6 is here in record time and no one is more surprised than me. The chapter didn’t actually cover as much plot as planned, but I guess that’s the terrorbeauty of writing. Enjoy the tiny little glimpse into Bucky’s past as HYDRA’s Asset for now. Thank you as always for reading and being patient with my inconsistent self ♥♥♥ And a special thanks to @cake-writes​ for helping me out when I was stuck! You’re the best! ♥

When the soft sound of his shoes echoes on the hallway to Dr. Trevelyan's office in the westernmost part of the compound, Bucky is as always taken aback by how loud he is. No matter which shoes he wears, he just can't seem to walk silently down this particular corridor. He tried barefoot once, just to test it, and the floor still dutifully announced his arrival. It’s the only place in the compound he can’t seem to conceal his presence.

He’s not surprised when Dr. Nadia Trevelyan, at the sound of his footsteps, opens the door to her office all the way and comes out to greet him. She does that sometimes. What does surprise him is the look on her face.

“Mr. Barnes. I was afraid you wouldn’t come today.”

Bucky frowns.

“I didn’t think I had a choice.”

The side of her elegantly painted mouth twitches and Bucky is certain it’s not from amusement. The way she proceeds to cross her arms only solidifies that certainty.

“You know there’s a choice. I just thought the general appeal of a barred cell had finally surpassed that of my office. It seemed like a reasonable conclusion to make, given your usual punctuality.”

Her calm, dry words feel like the verbal slap that they are, but at the same time a slower, more blunt feeling is oozing from them like the raw, cloying smell of an infected wound: dread.

With a shaking hand he takes his mobile from his pocket and unlocks the screen. The dread explodes into alarm. Starkly outlined against the black background, the white digital numbers of the phone’s clock perfectly justifies Dr. Trevelyan’s annoyance.

It’s 12:21pm.

It’s happened again. Bucky feels as if an ice cold fist is squeezing his insides. He’s lost time. He left the coffee shop, he ran straight back to the compound and now he’s standing here more than twenty minutes late to an appointment he’s usually early for. As if the hours just vanished in the blink of an eye.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, blood rushing to his cheeks until they physically hurt. He can't quite meet Dr. Trevelyan's big disapproving eyes.

It's his own fault, he knows. If only he had been more forthcoming in their sessions, she might have been willing to cut him some slack. But he has persistently worn her patience down over the past few months and now he fears there's nothing left. She'll have to report that he is late for a mandatory session and he'll have to undergo another full psychological evaluation, questions will be asked about why he wasn't on time, his sentence might even have to be renegotiated, Stark will be down his throat about the forest that'll have to be cut down to cover the paperwork…

Nadia Trevelyan seems to be considering these facts as well and to Bucky's immense relief, she finally sighs and uncrosses her arms.

"Since it's the first time it's happened, I suppose I can let it slide," she relents. The hard stare that follows the words tells Bucky exactly how much she likes it and he knows he'll have to grovel. Quid pro quo.

She steps aside to let him into the office and he sits down in his designated chair almost timidly.

"Thank you," he manages and she looks at him for a long time before she closes the door and sits down herself.

"So why are you late?" There's the adjusted voice of a professional shrink he's become so accustomed to by now. Bucky tries not to cringe.

"I just… lost track of time," he admits tentatively. "I was out running and I… I thought of S… Steve," he quickly amends, clearing his throat. His mind hasn't actually been near Steve since he entered the park early this morning, but somehow it doesn't feel right telling Dr. Trevelyan about Sugar. He wants to keep her to himself.

Of course, as his therapist, Nadia Trevelyan is bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, but because the sessions are a part of his sentence, that confidentiality only stretches so far and Bucky doesn't doubt for a second that anyone he talks to outside of the compound will be submitted to SHIELD's meticulous scrutiny the moment they hear about them. Sugar didn't agree to that and she sure as hell doesn't deserve it. No, Bucky wants to keep her out of his world for as long as he can. Keep her all to himself. Just Sugar and James, no complications, no messed up baggage, or spies or super soldiers or the end of the world. Just a regular guy who met a nice girl in a coffee shop and asked her out. That's all he wants.

"Bucky?"

He looks up and realises Dr. Nadia is looking expectantly at him. Shit, did he miss a question?

"You said you were thinking about Steve?" she supplies helpfully, if slightly irritated, when all he does is stare at her.

"Yes, uhm, well…" Bucky tries to regain his footing. "He, uh, left this morning for… work-"

"Yes, I'm aware," Dr. Trevelyan says, making Bucky raise an eyebrow. "My clearance is higher than yours, Bucky. How else could I be of any use around here?"

She doesn't say it, but he can hear it clear enough in her voice. You might have thought about that sooner if you ever actually bothered to talk to me.

"So you… you talk to Steve as well?"

She sighs.

"You know very well that I can’t tell you that."

But the sound of her heartbeat speeding up just a little is all the answer he needs. If he didn’t know any better, he would think she even gulped ever so slightly.

He can't figure out why, but it surprises him. Somehow he can't imagine either Captain America or Steve Rogers talk about their feelings. Not to Nadia Trevelyan anyway. Steve might look like an underwear model now, but he certainly doesn't have the confidence of one when it comes to women. And this therapist happens to be undeniably gorgeous. Tall and elegant, with long shiny black hair, she's the type of woman that turns heads; Bucky knows he would have tried his luck himself if he had met her back in the day when he wasn't broken, wasn't a monster. How Steve even gets a coherent sentence out in her presence is beyond him.

"Do you talk about me?"

There's something in her eyes when she answers.

"Whatever I may or may not discuss with Mr. Rogers isn't something I can disclose without his consent. And definitely not to another patient."

"Oh, so you do talk about me." Bucky can't help the smug little grin when Dr. Trevelyan actually relents a smile.

"Doctor-patient confidentiality, Mr. Barnes. You'll have to ask him."

"When he gets back."

"Indeed."

Bucky sighs.

"Whenever that might be." He regrets the casually bitter words the instant they're out of his mouth. Dr. Trevelyan's eyes gleam.

"You're worried about him."

"Of course I am!" Bucky nearly hisses. "He's a reckless, righteous idiot with a saviour complex and a stupid star-spangled frisbee, who can't tell when to quit. If his bleeding heart isn't going to get him fucking killed, his heroic dumbassery will. And I just…"

The sentence dies on his tongue. This is one of the reasons he hates therapy. Dr. Trevelyan barely has to say anything and the outbursts line up like a firing squad inside of him. And then he ends up saying things he doesn't mean, not really. Or worse, he starts to talk about something he can't voice. Literally can't get the words out without choking and feeling like his throat is completely tied up and his eyes are full of memories that he doesn't want to have. If he starts to dig into all of those ugly, horrid nightmares in the depths of his mind, Bucky is afraid he's never gonna emerge again.

His fragile, desperate hold on reality is fraying with every hour in this office, every sleepless night, every second he's on his own, but he is sure as hell not going to let go.

“He’s my friend, so of course I worry,” he dismisses instead, looking at the wall behind Nadia’s chair. There’s a stark white square to the right of her head, as if a painting, or a picture, has been taken down after a long time, leaving behind only a faint outline of its presence in the shade of the original paint. 

There is a tiny black hole at the center of the top of the white square from where a nail must have been. Bucky is surprised at the detail. He can’t quite believe something as low-tech as a nail exists in Stark’s shiny, new building.

“There are chinks in every armour if you know where to look.”

The nail is right in front of him. Held up close to his face between two silver metal fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky can see the Asset lean down behind him, lips close to his ear.

“It’s not like any of us wants to be here.” He twirls the nail in front of his eyes. “What do you say? We’ve gotten out of tighter quarters with less.”

Dr. Trevelyan nods sympathetically, but Bucky has already forgotten what he said. He barely even sees her anymore, his eyes are glued to the nail between the Asset’s fingers. For one terrifying moment, he sees the intent of his shadow self, sees Dr. Trevelyan on the floor with the nail sticking out between her eyes, blood silently trickling down her temple and he almost gags.

“Don’t,” he blurts out before he can stop himself and Dr. Trevelyan raises an eyebrow. The Asset just smirks and goes to stand next to her, leaning on her chair.

“What?” she inquires in an even voice.

“Yes, Bucky. What?” the Asset mimics mockingly.

"Just…" Bucky tries, fighting to regain some kind of control. He has to close his eyes and swallow, reaching back for the conversation Dr. Trevelyan is trying so hard to make him engage in. "Don’t act like you care. You don’t know what… how… what I’m like.”

Dr. Trevelyan sighs and rubs her temples, her long, elegant fingers uncomfortably close to the Asset.

“Believe it or not, Mr. Barnes, but I actually do care quite a lot. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. When your sentence was being negotiated, I volunteered to lead your therapy programme.”

That throws him. She normally doesn’t mention his sentence if she can avoid it and now she’s gone and done it twice in one day, but Bucky reckons he is being difficult, more so than usual.

“Yeah, well, no one asked you to,” he finally mumbles and Dr. Trevelyan’s mouth sets into a hard, painted line. 

As soon as the words leave him, Bucky wishes he could take them back, but with the Asset grinning at him, it’s almost impossible to focus. The nail between those silver fingers is still too close to her temple, but Bucky knows he can’t move. The Asset will be quicker.

Dr. Trevelyan regards him in silence for a long while then, before she sighs.

“Mr. Barnes, would you rather speak to a male therapist?”

Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise. What?

“Something is keeping you from confiding in me. Is it the fact that I’m a woman?” He has never heard her sound defensive before, but at this point he figures she’s well beyond caring.

“N-No, I…” He swallows when the Asset barks out a laugh.

“Oh, you’ve really charmed this one, Barnes.”

“Is it my skin then?” She gestures irritated with her cool light brown hand. “Or perhaps the accent? I realise things are very different from before all those atrocities happened to you, but that is why I am here. To help you adjust.”

“I thought you were here to cure me,” Bucky says slowly, willing himself not to look directly at the Asset.

“And I am trying, Mr. Barnes, but you have got to let me. If you don’t want my help, then there really isn’t much I can do.” She closes her eyes harshly for a moment. “Forgive me. That was very unprofessional of me. If, for whatever reason, you want a new psychologist, just say so. It’s very important that you feel comfortable with the person you talk to.”

Bucky winces so hard he almost thinks he can hear a few bones splinter beneath his muscles, but it has nothing to do with her words.

It’s the blood pouring out of her mouth as she speaks.

Down her chin it trickles onto her navy blue blouse, staining the silk black. The Asset has jammed the nail into the side of her throat. It's sticking out far more than it should given its size, as if it has somehow grown from the thin, clean, needle-like little tack into a rusty 6-inch coffin nail.

Bucky has to fight against at least a dozen different instincts telling him to run or to attack, to help, to defend or just do something other than what he does: sit still in his chair and try to think of something to say.

"Remember this?" the Asset asks, stroking Nadia's hair almost lovingly. She doesn't even flinch. She just sits there with her blood gushing out, waiting for him to reply.

Yes, Bucky remembers all too clearly. It’s as if the miniscule scar in the junction between his shoulder and neck pricks at the memory and if he didn’t feel sick before, he really does now.

The girl in his memory doesn’t look much like Nadia Trevelyan. She’s younger, with pale skin and even paler eyes, a mop of dark brown curls, tiny freckles around her eyes and nose…

But the coffin nail is exactly the same.

“I don’t need a new shr- a new therapist,” Bucky forces out as evenly as he can. “I… It’s not you.” He stops to swallow around a throat so dry and thick he’s sure it must be about to choke him. It’s nothing less than what he deserves.

“She was quite a little wildcat, that one,” the Asset reminisces and it’s all Bucky can do to not vomit on his running shoes. HYDRA’s dark soldier is obviously enjoying the torment his words are nurturing in Bucky. “Gave us quite the fight. Do you remember her name?”

Miriam.

Two of the three wheels under Dr. Trevelyan’s chair are now situated in a shallow pool of blood that only grows larger by the second. It’s covering the ground beneath the Asset’s feet and is creeping closer and closer.

He draws his feet back just a little.

“I just can’t talk about her. It! I can’t talk about it.”

Triumph at his slip-up is evident in Dr. Trevelyan's dark eyes, a sparkle of relief that she has finally gotten something out of her stubborn patient. Well, that's all she is going to get. Bucky clenches his teeth to the point of pain, vowing not to slip up like that again. No matter how badly the Asset rattles him, no matter what cruel tricks his mind is trying to play on him. Even if the bleeding woman in front of him is looking less and less like his doctor and eerily more like a girl twice buried many, many years ago.

"Who is it you can't talk about, Bucky?"

It feels almost worse knowing her sympathy is real.

"Doctor, please. I can't."

"Why not?"

His hands must have made indents in the arms of his chair with how tight he's grasping at them. Dr. Trevelyan doesn't push for an answer, but he's sure she captures and analyses every little movement he makes, most likely correctly too.

“I just… I wish that…” He has to swallow so hard his throat ought to rupture with the motion and his eyes are awash with the pressure of tears. “It’s too… too painful and I- I would rather be dead. If I’d just died back on that train, then… then everyone would be better off.”

His whole body trembles, but the words are out, hanging there between them as if he had shouted them.

“Would Steve?” The question is almost tender, as if she’s afraid to break the silence. It still feels to Bucky like a punch to the stomach.

“Steve’s fine,” he mumbles, not quite meeting her eyes. “He did just fine before I came and screwed things up. Should’ve just shot me on that bridge. Or let me drown.”

“Bucky, you have to stop thinking like that.” The genuine concern in Dr. Trevelyan’s voice is of a very different kind than the one he’s used to. Perhaps that’s what makes him listen. “I know there’s nothing I can say at this point to change your mind, but I still think you need to hear it. Whatever HYDRA made you do was not your fault. Now, we both know I can repeat that until I run out of breath and it won’t make a difference, but… I mean it. You are not guilty of what happened to you. What was done to you was vile. Cruel. You deserve this second chance more than anyone. The fact that you think you don't only makes it that much clearer."

She sends him a smile that would have been reassuring if it weren't for her bloodied exterior. If she weren't his doctor he's almost sure she would have reached out and squeezed his hand too. For a moment, he wishes she would. He wants to feel the touch of another human so badly he aches with it, but he doesn't deserve it. Right?

He recalls Sugar's soft, pliant lips and the comforting warmth of her skin. Would she have let him kiss her like that if she knew who he really is? What he has done?

The pressure becomes too much and before he knows what's happening, the tears have trailed warm tracks down his cheeks.

"It will take a while, but I can help you if you’ll let me.”

“I don’t want to feel this way…” The admission is so quiet and so soft that for a moment he isn’t even sure it has even left those hidden depths of his soul where it has stubbornly refused to be snuffed out by the heavy hands of his guilt. He’s almost ashamed of it. “But I don’t know… I just don’t know how not to.”

“It’s okay, Bucky,” Dr. Trevelyan assures him. “That’s why we’re here. So that you can figure it out.”

Bucky dares to look up and take in her face. Her lips and chin are still caked with semi-dry blood and the rusty coffin nail is jutting out from the softness of her neck. 

But the Asset is gone.

Alhabor smiles at the tall Frenchman as he sits down across from her at the small café table. He's as handsome as ever, even with the bottle blond hair that drains him a little bit. It gives him a haunted edge that makes his face even more interesting. He looks like a lost Romantic poet, she thinks longingly when he sends her a smirk and lowers his small black sunglasses to look at her.

"Good morning, mon coeur." They haven't seen each other in over three months and she knows it's her fault. Her job always comes first. Sometimes she wishes it wasn't like that. Sometimes she wishes she could run off with Christophe and let him take care of her the way he always promises he will on those few precious nights of passion they manage to steal from time to time. Sometimes she wishes she wasn't such an idealist.

"Good morning, my love. It’s a beautiful day in Paris, don't you think?”

He reaches out and places a brief kiss on her knuckles over her lukewarm cappuccino.

“I prefer Marseille. Fewer tourists. One day perhaps you will forget about those secretive morons and let me take you there.”

“Can you even show your face there?” Alhabor asks with a raised eyebrow and Christophe chuckles, shrugging.

“Pictures get lost, money changes hands, files disappear… I wouldn’t worry.” The sly smile on his perfectly shaped mouth makes her heart beat ten times faster, but she tries to compose herself. This is work.

“You know that I do.” She takes a miniscule sip of the cappuccino. “Did you get what I asked for?”

Better to get this over with fast and get back on track. She tells herself she’ll have more time for Christophe and his charms once this assignment is completed. Deep down, she knows she’s lying to herself, but it makes her feel better.

“Most girls want flowers or diamonds or expensive perfume.” He grins as he reaches into the lining of his trench coat and retrieves a small box. She can’t help grinning in exchange when she takes it and quickly confirms its contents.

“Oh, you know I’m never one to turn down diamonds,” she teases, making the box disappear into her own coat. Their gloved fingers barely even touch at the exchange. “But as romantic gestures go, you’ve outdone yourself this time, my love.”

"Anything for you, mon coeur." His smile isn't as brilliant as it usually is and it makes her frown.

"What?"

"Is it true you have the Lazarus assignment?"

"Yeah, like I said." She tries to sound casual, but they both know she can't fool him. He reaches out and takes her hand before she can pull away. His grip is hard, insistent.

"Promise me you'll be careful," Christophe says quietly and she can feel her heart come to a full stop in her chest. "He's still dangerous."

She can't quite meet his eyes when she answers.

"I know. But the order is very clear. We need him back. The Wakandans may have tampered with his head, but there's no telling what might still be in there. We simply can't risk it."

"You really believe that, don't you?" He sighs and squeezes her hand, but he doesn't let go.

"Are you surprised?"

"I like to think I know you too well for that. Just please tell me you know what you're doing."

"Oh, don't worry, my love." Alhabor pats the inner pocket of her coat where the little box is now hidden. "It's all going according to plan now. And you of all people know how persuasive I can be."

Tags will be added in reblog ~

[supernaturalfreewill]

Words: 5,190 Demon!Dean x Reader Warnings: None really! A/N: This is part of a series! Read the other parts first! Part 1 :: Part 2 :: Part 3 :: Part 4 :: Part 5 :: Part 6 :: Part 7.

Your name: submit What is this?

Some years ago

“Fuck!” you slammed a hand against the steel door, but it was useless. You had heard the heavy bolt click into place clearly and with a resonate echo heavy with foreboding. You were trapped. “Goddammit!” You suppressed the urge to kick the door, knowing that at best you’d end up with a broken toe and no closer to freedom. “Now what? We honestly should have expected something like this from Bobby...”

Dean was moving around behind you, searching every square inch of the room for some hint of how to deactivate whatever panic button you and he had unknowingly switched on. “Yeaaaah. Should have predicted that we wouldn’t be able to swing by and a have a quick, flawless search.”

You leaned your back against the door and rested your head against it. “I figured it wouldn’t be flawless considering the sheer amount of papers and books in the house—it’s like searching for a needle in a haystack—but I did not expect to be locked in a windowless panic room.” You shut your eyes. “Fuck.”

Dean straightened up, disheartened. He scratched the back of his head and peered down at the panel he had just discovered. “Well… here’s something…” he said, but you noted that he didn’t sound particularly hopeful.

Dean blew out a long exhale and straightened up. Your hand dropped from his shoulder. “Yep. We are pretty fucked,” he agreed.

You stared up at the ceiling. “This has got to be solid iron. An underground panic room—no cell service. Complicated electrical panel. Probably requires a numeric password or something, which was known by one person who is now deceased. Guessing he probably also programmed it so we only are allowed a limited amount of wrong guesses before something horrible happens to us in here. Locked in,” you summarized, finally catching Dean’s eyes. “Great.”

Dean sighed again, at a loss for what to do next. “The downside is that this place was set up by Bobby. But… on the other hand, the upside is that this place was set up by Bobby,” Dean said, gesturing to the shelves stacked to the ceiling with supplies—jugs of drinking water, MREs, emergency blankets, flashlights and headlamps, sleeping pads, medical supplies, everything one could want while trying to surf out a zombie invasion or the apocalypse. There was even an actual bathroom, which you had both first mistook for being a closet.

“Wait—wait! What is that? What IS that?!” You said, pointing vehemently at a shape behind Dean so shrouded in dust it was almost camouflaged into the wall. “Is that a fucking landline?”

Dean followed your gaze. “It looks like it,” he said guardedly.

Then reality crashed down on you. The likelihood that that old line was still functional was probably in the 0.000 – 0.001% range. “Please tell me there is a dial tone,” you said, looking desperately at Dean.

He laughed gruffly. “I will bet you $500 that there isn’t.”

“Do you even have $500?” you countered.

“Thanks to Mr. Chip Killway and his checking account I have more than that,” he said with a smirk.

You laughed. “Chip Killway? What the hell kind of name is that?”

“I know, right?” Dean said. “I thought he sounded douchey. Makes me feel less guilty about stealing his money.” Dean stepped around some boxes and hovered a hand over the phone. “So, are you in? $500?” he joked.

“It’s somehow less enticing now that I know it isn’t your money,” you replied with a smirk.

“Alright—fine. If there IS a dial tone when I pick up this phone, I will take off all my clothes. If there isn’t, you take off all YOUR clothes.” He finished with a boyish smirk and wiggled his eyebrows at you. You crossed your arms and gave him an appraising look, trying to ignore the rush of heat you felt in your cheeks.

“How is that fair? I lose either way.”

“Oh! Ow! Ouch!” Dean dramatically clutched a hand to his chest, eliciting a light laugh from you.

“Would you just pick up the phone, you idiot?”

Dean lifted the mustard-colored, plastic receiver and held it up to his ear. “Nothing,” he said. “Sorry, Y/N. Time to get naked.”

“Dean!”

“I don’t make the rules—”

“You literally made up those rules—”

“Don’t hate the player—hate the game,” he said.

You rolled your eyes at him and sat down on a nearby crate. “Okay, Casanova. In all seriousness, what are we going to do here?”

“I think we only have one option.”

“Dean, if you say ‘get naked’ one more time I will shoot you with this flare gun—”

“God, get your mind out of the gutter, you perv. Jesus…” You chucked a package of dehydrated food at him and he laughed. “I was going to say ‘wait.’”

You groaned. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Sam won’t be here for another day or two and then who knows how long it’s going to take him to figure out a way to get us out of here.”

“Well… if he tries to call us and gets no answer he will probably get worried, and he’ll probably hurry…” Dean ran a hand through his hair and set aside his jesting at the worried expression on your face, your characteristic knit brow, with the little worry line appearing by your left eyebrow. “Hey. We’re fine. We’ve got everything we need in here—it’ll be okay.”

You chewed your bottom lip. That wasn’t exactly what had you so agitated. “I know. I know. We’re—we’ll be fine…”

Suddenly, the air was as thick as molasses as Dean and you both realized that you were trapped together in a confined space. Alone. Unlikely to be interrupted. For an extended period of time. The hair on the back of your neck stood up like a chill breeze had just rushed over your skin.

You’d spent time alone together before. Of course, you had… but there was always some life or death crisis to draw your attention or the chance that Cas or Sam would walk in at any moment. Or as soon as you started to feel—something—one or the other made some excuse to leave or break the tension or back away from it...

Even now just at the thought of it your heart was racing and you suddenly couldn’t think of a damn thing to talk about—to say to him.

You watched him looking over the contents of the shelves, the muscles in his back easily visible through his thin t-shirt as he moved boxes and bins around. You felt your cheeks grow warm. “Guess we have some time to kill,” he said, grabbing something from the top shelf and turning around, immediately catching your gaze. You both looked at each other for a moment and then down at the sleeping pad in his hands and back up at each other. You felt yourself blushing more fervently and quickly averted your eyes while Dean laughed nervously.

“Heh—for—for the floor. For sitting on! Um,” he scruffed a hand through his hair awkwardly, feeling heat rising in his chest. Smooth, Dean. Smooth. God, what was wrong with him? Suddenly he felt like a giddy school boy. Why did that always happen around you? He’d be fine one minute and then the next—BAM! His heart would start racing and he would suddenly be very aware of the color of your eyes and the sparks of light they threw and the shade of pink of your lips and their perfect Cupid’s bow and the way you would chew on the bottom one when you were thinking and— “Do you want one? To sit on?” he offered. You waved him off.

“Maybe later,” you said. There was a long silence and the air was still heavy as you avoided each other’s eyes, trying to think of something to say. You swallowed at the lump in your throat, willing it to disappear to no avail. What the fuck?! This was Dean! You’d lived in the bunker together for years! You’d seen each other on your worst and best days. You’d tolerated early morning and late-night bad moods. You’d patched each other up after hunts—though you admitted that the intimacy of that sometimes got to you. Christ, why did this always happen?? What was wrong with you?!

“Hey,” Dean said suddenly.

“Yeah?” You seized on it, hoping he had some topic of conversation in mind which would distract you from how goddamn green his eyes were.

“Wanna play a game?”

“…like?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know.” He thought for a moment. “20 questions?”

You laughed. “What, are we eight?”

Dean laughed gruffly. “Alright. Fair… Umm… Never Have I Ever?”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a drinking game?”

He gave you a knowing smirk, and pulled a bottle of whiskey off a nearby shelf. “You’re goddamn right it is.”

You looked at him hesitantly, one eyebrow raised, studying him. “I don’t know…”

The green in Dean’s eyes seemed to spark. “Come on! It’ll be fun! I promise I will keep my hands to myself when you are inevitably waaay more intoxicated than me,” he grinned.

You raised an eyebrow and looked at him for a long moment. “Well… there’s nothing else to do. I guess this could be interesting,” you said.

Dean settled more comfortably on the sleeping pad he was sitting on. “Oh, yeah. I plan on finding out all kinds of new things about you,” he joked.

You laughed, but you did suddenly feel a little warm and you were quite sure your face was tinged pink. “Be careful. You might.” You wondered just what you were getting yourself into.

Dean gave you an unsure look, but smiled. “Okay. I’ll go first.” He thought for a moment and then cleared his throat. A wide smile grew on his face. “Never have I ever crashed my car into a fire hydrant.”

Your mouth dropped open. His expression was smug. “Hey, that was—I had a head injury!”

“So? You still did it. Drink!”

You bit your bottom lip and looked at him with a tight smile. “So, that is how you’re gonna play it, hmm?”

Dean laughed. The gruffness of his laugh with the way his eyes crinkled at the corners killed you every time. “That’s how I’m gonna play it.” He shrugged.

“Fine. Give me that,” you said, snatching the whiskey bottle from him with a sassy look and taking a sip. “My turn.” You seized him up with your eyes.

“Never have I ever… had a one night stand.” You punctuated the end of the sentence by shoving the whiskey bottle back at Dean and giving him a satisfied smile.

He took it begrudgingly but there was a curious expression on his face. “Wait… seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” you said. You felt your cheeks growing a little pink again. “What?”

Dean shrugged and took a swig from the bottle. “I don’t know. I’m just surprised I guess. I mean, you’re—” he cut himself off, and suddenly looked down at his feet. “Uhh…”

“I’m what?” you pressed him.

He shrugged. “I guess it’s just not your style,” he said. It wasn’t really a question. “Can’t imagine you never had the opportunity,” he said a little sheepishly, avoiding your eyes. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck nervously.

You nodded, catching his eyes again. The warmth in your face was growing and you were quite positive it was bright red. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “Yeah… Not my style. I’ve never been good at—at just sex.”

“You’re not good at sex?” he joked. “Damn, what a disappointment. Well, I could give you some pointers… Maybe help you practice—”

“Dean! You know what I said!” Dean laughed heartily and caught your eyes again. “Your turn, Winchester. What have you got?”

Dean decided to go a little more serious after that last one. “Right. Umm… Never have I ever—been to Prom?” He looked at you questioningly for a few seconds but you showed no sign of reaching for the bottle to take a drink.

You only gave him a small smile.

“Wow, I thought for sure I would get you on that one. You didn’t go to Prom?”

You shook your head. “Nope. No Prom.”

“Why not?” Dean asked, studying your expression.

Your eyes turned downward and for a moment Dean thought you were blinking back some emotion. In another second, you were back to your old self, giving him a sarcastic smile. “It’s called ‘Never Have I Ever,’ not ‘20 Questions’.”

Dean let you get away with the deflection, but he could sense that there was something there you were holding back… “Alright, alright. Um. Never Have I ever…” Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at you, “flirted with a bald valet for information!”

“What?! That is WAY too specific!”

“Hey, we didn’t lay out any ground rules! That is totally valid!” he argued back.

“That was for a case! You’re such an ass!” You grabbed another dried food packet and whipped it at him, catching him in the chest. Dean tossed his head back and laughed before shoving the whiskey bottle at you.

You snatched it and took a sip. “Oof,” you said, swallowing the burn in your throat. “Should have known Bobby would have booze in his end-of-days bunker.” You were definitely starting to feel that familiar giddiness, a warm buzz from the liquor.

“The man kept a well-stocked pantry, that’s for damn sure,” Dean said, admiration clear on his face.

“Never have I ever been arrested,” you said with a wide, satisfied smile. “I feel like you should drink like ten times for this one,” you said, handing the bottle back to Dean. His fingers brushed yours as he took it, rolling his eyes at you, and you startled a little at the contact. It was like a hot spark had jumped up your arm.

“In our line of work, if you haven’t been arrested, you’re doing something wrong,” he argued, pointing vehemently in your direction. He took a big swig and smacked his lips afterwards.

“Nah, I’m just a waaaay smoother talker than you. I should have been arrested,” you counted on your fingers, “six times.”

“Six?”

“Six. Also, it helps that I’m much, much cuter than you,” you said, wrinkling your nose at him.

A small smile accompanied by a peculiar expression came over Dean’s face. “I can’t argue with that…” he said.

You felt yourself blush and stood up. “Umm, bathroom break,” you said. Ugh. Chicken! you mentally scolded yourself. There you went again… as soon as you started to feel something you tucked your tail and ran the other way. What were you so afraid of?

“I’ll be here,” Dean replied, leaning back so he was laying flat on his back on the sleeping pad he had spread out.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re drunk,” Dean accused you, laughing at how you had just slurred your words.

“You’re drunk!” you argued back, indignant.

“Not as drunk as you,” Dean said, shaking his head, a wide smile still on his lips. “Here. C’mere. Give me that,” he said, taking the whiskey bottle from you. Dean stood up and capped it, replacing it on a nearby shelf. “We need to get some food and some water in you,” he said. “Or you’re gonna have a wicked hangover tomorrow and I don’t want to be trapped in here with you in that state.”

“Whatever. I’m a delight,” you said.

Dean was digging through some of the dehydrated food packs on the shelves. “Do you want beef stew orrrr… hmm--beef stew?”

“I guess I’ll take beef stew.”

“Beef stew it is!”

You crossed the room to another set of shelves and stood on your tiptoes, trying to reach the sleeping pads and the sleeping bags, tired of sitting on a crate. Your balance, however, was somewhat compromised due the imbibed whiskey and you knocked a plastic water jug off a high shelf when you mis-stepped while reaching for what you wanted. “Shit!”

You ducked the water jug, but if Dean hadn’t quickly turned and steadied you, you would have been splayed out on the floor, possibly with a new bump on the back of your head. The cookware that had been in Dean’s hands was clattering and ringing on the floor harshly but the two of you were frozen. Dean’s hands were on your hips. He watched your lips part slightly and his heart was hammering in his chest. The way you were looking up at him, your eyes a little wide with surprise but fixated on his—he gulped at the sudden tightness in his throat. But he suddenly realized that the moment he should have let go of you was long past and he quickly withdrew. “You okay?” he asked.

You couldn’t get any words out as you stepped back from him and you only nodded.

He anxiously ran his fingers through his hair, still taking in your expression. “Heh—I told you you’re drunk.” He turned and grabbed a sleeping pad and sleeping bag for you from the shelf.

“Yeah. Thanks,” you said, still a little stunned. “Umm, you always did have good reflexes.” Dean clenched and unclenched his hands a couple times, trying to shake the tingly feeling in his fingers.

He nodded. “No problem.”

Dean picked up the cookware and you set up the sleeping pad and sleeping bag on the floor, trying to get as comfortable as you could. You felt suddenly sober and you couldn’t figure out if it was almost cracking your head open or Dean’s hands on your hips that had done it… but you suspected the latter. You could still almost feel the weight of them on you and god, your heart was absolutely pounding.

A half hour later you and Dean had both eaten and he had insisted on continuously refilling your cup with water. You did the clean up after your camp-style dinner and when you finished you noticed Dean flopped down on his sleeping pad, paging through a book.

You sank down next to him. “What’s that?”

He flipped another page, a vague crooked smile growing on his face. “I haven’t seen this in… probably ten, maybe fifteen years,” he said. He partially closed it so you could see the cover.

“Monsters and Myths,” you read aloud.

“When Sammy and I were little, my Dad would drop us off here at Bobby’s if he had a hunt he didn’t want us anywhere near, or if there was a job in the area. I would sneak this book off the shelves and we’d stay up late looking through it, reading about all the monsters and talking about how Dad would take them down—whether he had ever fought any of them for real. It used to scare the crap out of us,” he laughed gruffly.

“It’s kind of still scary now,” you said. “Knowing a lot of these probably do actually exist.” You leaned toward him to read the entry he was on about Kludde, a Flemish beast from Belgian folklore that wandered the countryside in the form of a massive, winged, black wolf.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “It’s weird though. I wonder why Bobby chose this out of all his books as one to bring into the panic room,” he said.

“If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because he had memories about it just like you do. Nothing got past Bobby. I’m sure he knew you used to sneak it off the shelves.” Dean looked over at you and met your eyes. You were side by side, both laying spread out on the floor. You were close. Your faces were only a few inches apart, both propped up on your elbows. “Probably some of his fondest memories of Little Dean and Little Sammy,” you said with a small smile. “They would be good company if the world outside was burning.”

Dean felt like he melted. He loved that little smile—it filled your whole face with light and warmth. It felt like all the air in the room had stopped moving and the stillness was electric. You held his eyes as long as you dared before you shyly blinked away and looked down at your hands. But Dean was still studying your face, and he turned more toward you.

“Will you tell me?”

You gave him a questioning look.

“About Prom. Why you didn’t go.”

Your brow automatically drew down over your eyes and your lips pouted in a soft frown. You considered his question for a long moment, and then spoke with some effort. “My dad was sick,” you said with a sad smile, your eyes a little misty. You shrugged. “Prom wasn’t important.”

Dean easily recognized the grief in your eyes. “I’m sorry. What was it?”

You cleared your throat to ease the tightness from emotion there. “Pancreatic cancer. He passed away the summer before my senior year in high school.”

“God, I’m sorry.” Dean watched you fighting emotion.

You nodded and forced yourself to heave in a shaky breath. “Yeah. It was hard.”

“You never said anything to me or Sammy before.”

You shrugged. “It’s still hard to talk about. And—everyone has lost someone one way or another.” Your eyes found Dean’s again and you felt a chill, or electricity run up your back.

Suddenly, Dean reached up and gently moved a stray strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gentle on your skin. His eyes seemed to be flitting between yours and your lips and you felt like there was something pulling you toward him—something magnetic, and you wanted to give into it so badly. You were teetering on the edge. You subconsciously bit your bottom lip and that’s when Dean couldn’t stand it anymore. He closed the distance between the two of you, his lips meeting yours, and you leaned into him desperately, feeling his hand gently cupping your face, his fingers trailing softly down your neck. That kiss stoked a wave of warmth in your chest and you relished his lips on yours, soft at first, but growing more pleading, more passionate, almost desperate, like a dam had broken.

But all of a sudden, Dean pulled back and his eyes were searching your face, his lips still just inches from yours. “Wait—” he said, his voice a little raspy, “—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—you’re drunk.” It took every ounce of his willpower to break contact with you.

You couldn’t have looked away from his green eyes if you had wanted to, the fire in them was all consuming. “No,” you said vaguely, breathlessly, one corner of your mouth curving up in a smile. “I’m not anymore.”

That was all Dean needed to hear. “Oh, thank God.” He crashed into you again, even more hungrily now and you gave in, eagerly wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his hands in your hair and tracing your curves. Soon you were both pressed together completely, your legs tangled with his. Dean’s tongue flitted over your bottom lip. You parted yours and he kissed you more deeply, with more fire. And then he was over you and you were flat on your back. You slipped one hand barely underneath the hem of his shirt and your fingers floated over his skin, across his back, tickling at his hip, sending tingles up his spine, making him smile into the kiss. Dean slid a hand over the silky skin on your arm, pressing it up over your head, lacing his fingers with yours, kissing you more insistently, his hips pressing into you.

You slid your fingers into his hair and were lost. Both of you were lost in that kiss—it was fireworks, it was heat, it was—it was so much better than either of you could have guessed. It was effortless, kissing him. Your lips and bodies moved in sync without thought.

Finally, Dean’s kiss grew softer again and he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. Both of you were out of breath, and smiles grew on your faces. You felt your cheeks coloring bright red, and you bit your bottom lip. Dean rested his forehead against yours and he shut his eyes, still riding the wave of that high.

“That was…” but he didn’t even have a word for it.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“I—I better just try to be a gentleman and stop here or I will not be responsible for my actions,” he said with a gruff laugh, repositioning from where he was over you to lay down next to you again.

You were still trying to catch your breath, staring straight up at the ceiling.

Dean couldn’t take his eyes off you and he studied your profile, the gentle slope of your nose, the way your eyelashes whisked upwards away from your cheeks. “I wish I had done that a long time ago,” he said quietly.

You turned to look at him with a small, shy smile. “Me too,” you laughed, feeling a wave of heat in your chest. Dean could see you flush and he leaned in again to give you one last soft kiss—this one sweet and slow.

Neither of you wanted to say anything more. You just wanted to drink each other in. It was perfect—it was vulnerable and intimate and honest. After a little while, Dean grabbed the book again and with a tilt of his head and an outstretched arm as an invitation, you cuddled close and watched as he paged through the old volume.

Some time later, you were both asleep--Dean’s arm under and wrapped around you and your head on his shoulder and a hand gentle on his chest.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You startled awake the next morning to a banging sound followed by a familiar voice.

“DEAN!”

It was, unmistakably, Sam.

You and Dean both sat up stock straight. “Sam?”

“DEAN! Can you hear me?!”

You looked up toward the source the sound. “It’s coming through that vent,” you said, climbing to your feet. “SAM! WE’RE DOWN HERE!”

“Y/N? IS DEAN WITH YOU? WHAT’S GOING ON?”

“I’M HERE, SAM! WE’RE STUCK IN BOBBY’S FUCKING PANIC ROOM!”

“WHAT?”

“BOBBY’S. FUCKING. PANIC ROOM!”

This was followed by more loud banging sounds and some sort of metallic clanking and squealing.

“Can you hear me better?” Sam’s voice was clearer.

“Yes! Sam, thank God,” you yelled back. “We were worried you wouldn’t be here for another day or more!”

“I tried calling both of you like ten times with no answer! I got worried.”

“Awesome. Now, figure out how to get us out of here,” Dean chimed in.

“Uhh…How?”

“We tripped the system somehow. There’s some kind of computer panel in here. Maybe there’s another one outside or in the house somewhere. Maybe you can hack it somehow and override the lockdown?” you offered.

“Alright… I’ll see what I can do. Just sit tight.”

Dean caught your eyes and laughed wryly. “Not like we have any other choice, right?” he said. That was the first time since you had woken up to the chaos from Sam that the two of you had really looked at each other. You immediately felt your cheeks flush. Dean’s lips curved in a gentle smile as he took in your bashfulness. “How’s your head?”

You nodded. “Fine. How’s yours?”

“Just fine,” he said, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. He nervously rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “So… that really happened, right?”

“What?”

He cleared his throat at averted his eyes back up toward the vent Sam had been talking to you through. “I mean—last night—we totally made out. I didn’t… dream that?”

You bit your bottom lip and smiled nervously. “We… definitely made out…”

Dean gave you one of his classic boyish grins. “Awesome.”

Sam was surprisingly fast at cracking the system, with a little help from Charlie over the phone. He had you and Dean out within an hour. You grinned at him as he finally pulled the door open from the outside.

“Hey,” he said. “You two interested in rejoining the world?”

You laughed and gave him a quick hug. “Our hero,” you said.

Dean patted Sam’s shoulder as he stepped past him. “Way to go, Sammy.”

Sam stepped forward to peer inside the panic room. “Geez. Well, it looks like you had everything you needed. Bobby was always prepared for anything. How long were you stuck in there?”

You checked the time on your phone. “About 18 hours.”

Sam laughed. “Yikes. What the hell did you do to pass the time?” He turned toward you and Dean again, shutting the door behind him. You were willing your cheeks not to turn red. Based on Sam’s curious expression and Dean’s unwillingness to meet his eyes, you were pretty sure Sam knew something was up. He raised his eyebrows. “What’s with you two?”

“What? Nothing,” Dean said. “Let’s get out of here.”

Dean turned away to head back up the root cellar stairs into the streaming sunlight and Sam gave you an inquisitive look. You awkwardly cleared your throat and avoided his questioning eyes. “Ready?”

“…Sure,” he agreed. He followed behind you, but he could sense that something had changed between you and Dean.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Current day

You sat sideways in what once was Crowley’s throne, legs draped over one arm of the seat. The heavy door to the room was shut to drown out the sounds of Hell. There was a laptop in your lap and you opened a web browser. “Huh. Hell has surprisingly good Wifi,” you wondered aloud to yourself. “Now, to find who is next… You searched through recent court case acquittals until the squeaking of metal hinges interrupted your attention. You sighed heavily but didn’t look at the demon who had just entered. “What?” Your tone was bored, cold.

“We--we think we’ve found it,” the demon stuttered out.

You sat up straight, swinging your feet to the floor. “Well?” you prodded.

“We can take you there.”

You rose from the throne completely and locked your eyes on the demon. “And he’s there?”

Something which looked an awful lot like terror was on the demon’s face, but he nodded.

”Take me there,” you demanded. “It’s time I meet Lucifer for myself.”

[peachyunjinnie]

❝moments of love❞ maknae line ― f.

― summary:

scenarios of the maknae line falling in love with the reader. 4 imagines of pure fluff.

maknae line/ female reader | soft!maknae line | fluff | 1.3k ↬ content warnings: --

a/n: this was one of the first things i’ve written and i thought i should post it, enjoyy!

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[9:17AM]

you cracked the eggs and added it into the mixing bowl as you mix all of the ingredients together. you heard hyunjins little whine as he stepped into the kitchen smelling the food. sometimes I wonder if he had the nose of a dog since he always smelled food from miles away. “good morning.” he mumbled as he hugged your back and slung his long slender arms around your lower belly. standing there shirtless and a pair of boxers and you standing there with nothing but his shirt which was way too big for your size but as it seems he likes that a lot. “good morning babe.” you giggled as he hid his cold nose into your neck. “pancakes?” he asked a little more awake now. “yeah since it’s your free day I wanted to surprise you, but you smell food at a distance of miles.” you chuckled. he smiled warmly looking at you, putting the batter into the pan. he stood there admiring at your fast fingers as they made the pancakes in a matter of minutes. while I was finishing off, he whispered into my ear softly “you know what?” “what is it?” “I love you from the bottom of my heart, you are the best thing to happen to me.” he turned you around as he cupped your cheek as he kissed you. you looked into your eyes and you realized that you have found the love of your life right here and there.

[3:02PM] 

“I really needed this, thank you so much for making me the happiest person alive” you said while looking at jisungs expression light up and his warm squirrel smile coming through. “don’t thank me for being the best I know I am.” he flipped his ‘long hair’ as you both laughed like crackheads, receiving looks from the other people at the amusement park. you both looked at each other with so much love and affection and continued to walk around. as you saw the Ferris wheel and you squeezed his hand to show him. he immediately took you there and you two went into a cabin together. you were holding his hand and he stared at you. “what?” you giggled. he looked at you and smiled “I think I fell hard for you and this may sound cliché and cheesy but you bring out the best in me, make me happier as I’ve ever been and I could never leave your side so I wanted to make this special.” he made a quick pause and continued “do you want to be my girlfriend?” “yes! yes yes yes!” you got closer to his face and he kissed you as you were at the top of the wheel. you never believed in true love, but I couldn’t deny that what you found in Jisung was true love.

[5:13PM] 

“so it’s simple y/n just add this into this and multiplicity this with 287.” your tutor Felix tried his best to not complicate you with the numbers. “this is too hard I don’t get it.” you were frustrated and couldn’t concentrate anymore. “okay a little break will be good.” he smiled. you were really too dumb for anything, this math task wasn’t that hard, but you still managed to completely fuck up. tears were falling down your cheek as the frustration got worse. he noticed and quickly put his hand on your back. “hey what’s the problem?” he asked, kind of lost. “I’m too dumb to even get this right... I’m a disappointment.” you let out. he put your face in his hands as he started. “ y/n you’re probably the funniest, hardworking and talented girl I’ve ever met in my 20 years and you’re too hard on yourself this task isn’t that easy as you think. we’ll go through this together, okay?” he looked deeply into your eyes as he smiled again. he pulled you into a hug and you sniffed against his shoulder. “hey, it’s alright, I'm here for you.” he calmed me down and he just stayed there with me the girl he loved since the first lesson. he pulled out of the hug. he took a tissue and wiped the tears off of your face. as he did so you looked into each other's eyes, the tension getting hotter, the butterflies in your belly getting unbearable as he slowly started to get close to your face and when there was an inch left between you two he asked “ Is this okay for you y/n?” you nodded your head as he connected your lips together and then it was clear. you’ve been falling for your tutor the whole time.

[11:08PM]

“Wait... Go a little more left, no, too much a little right. Yes, that’s it!” Seungmin said trying to get the best picture for his gallery. He looked at his camera and smiled, thinking how proud and unbelievably blessed he is to have someone like you by his side. You never ever would’ve thought that the friendship would be more. And you didn’t want to admit your crush on your best friend. He took the picture and directly made a few more, but on the last one, he stopped and said with his slight nasally cute voice “Y/N, you are too good to be true...” a slight peachy blush making its way to his cheeks and nose. “What do you mean...?” you were slightly scared something major savage would come now, but you were completely calm. “You are so gorgeous and nice. You make the better side of me shine and I can always rely on you. I just need to say this now... I love you and I need to know if you feel the same as well because it’s been killing me lately, to act like we’re just friends.” his eyes not looking up from the floor, nervously playing with his fingers. You simply made your way to him and lifted his chin for him to look at you. “Seungminie I feel exactly what you’ve been feeling, and I love you too, dumbie.” You smiled and gave him a reassuring look. “Thank god...” He breathed out loudly and took his hands around my waist and spun me around his camera hanging around his neck. Euphoria spreading all over my body, his hands on my waist and my hair in the wind. My best friend is now my boyfriend and it couldn’t be better.

[03:29PM] 

Your eyes were glued onto your cigarette as you lighted it. Not a good idea, because a body ran me over with a skateboard, result in me falling on my butt. “DON’T YOU HA- oh hi.” I started to raise my voice but as soon as I looked up, I saw a guy my age with a worried look on his face. Longer bangs with a black beanie and a hoodie with oversized jeans. “Oh my god, are you okay, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t...” He took my hand and helped me up, with a smile on both of our faces. “Paying attention.” He ended his sentence. “No, no, no. It’s fine I’m still alive.” He laughed cutely. “Let me make it up for you, a boba-date?” My cheeks getting a peachy shade, I accepted happily. 

And that was the beginning of your first and last love.

[amerrierworld]

Curtain (vi)

Carol (2015) fan fiction

Pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Word Count: 1,969

Wednesday. 3pm

There were 16 students today, Therese noted, and it thrilled her. She'd attempted to find a spot to put some of the kids' artwork on display, but alas, Tucker would probably have her head for it.

As everyone got settled in, most kids familiar with each other and  the room now, Therese saw a small blonde girl lingering in the doorway. She was wearing overalls and a soft pink shirt underneath and eyeing the room nervously.

"Hi there," she said politely. "Are you here for art club?"

She nodded timidly, and Therese scanned the list quickly to find her.

"What's your name, sweetie?"

"Rindy."

"Oh, that's a nice name, I like it," Therese said as she ticked off the name; Rindy Aird. The only Rindy she'd encountered in the whole school so far.

The toddler's face scrunched. "People say it's weird."

"Well, I like weird names. My name's weird too."

Rindy's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Sure thing. Here, let's get you a seat. Do you like drawing?"

She got everyone settled in rather quickly with the promise of fruit gummies at the end of the day. She assigned each easel a number and got everyone set up with shared cups of paint that were distributed for every two or three kids (watered down, sadly, because she couldn't afford more), and she got them started on painting self-portraits.

Every student was also covered in an oversized dollar-store t-shirt to protect clothes from paint and Therese herself had a worn down paint shirt that hung down to the middle of her thighs.

The small girl with crazy blonde curls was struggling, trying desperately not to get paint on the shirt. Therese wandered around the easels and when she reached Rindy, the girl was scrunching her face in a frown.

"What's the matter, Rindy? How's your painting going?"

"Don't like it," she murmured. There were only a few stripes of purple and blue on the paper and she held the paintbrush by the furthest end, her small hand not strong enough to control the brushstrokes.

"Here, try holding the brush like this; it gives a better grip that way," Therese demonstrated, angling the brush and gripping closer to the top.

"But I'll get paint on my hands!"

"That's okay, you're allowed to get paint on your hands. We can alway wash it off."

"But paint on my clothes," Rindy said, not taking back the brush from Therese as she offered it. Therese noted that her paint shirt didn't have a single splatter on it at all.

"But you haven't got any on your clothes?"

"I don't wanna paint!" Rindy said abruptly, startling Therese. The first grader was close to tears and Therese quickly set the paint aside and moved her to a desk.

"Alright, no worries, Rindy. We can draw with crayons instead, would you like that?"

"Yes," she said, voice small. Therese offered a pink paper; saying how it matched Rindy's shirt and she eagerly began drawing. Therese followed her lead, sitting next to her and drawing with small coloured crayons on a blue piece of paper. She was huddled in a kid-sized chair next to Rindy, making her posture awkward but she didn't move.

When the clock came close to 5, Therese got the kids to start washing up; giving them a two minute warning so that they'd all have time for gummies, and the class ran off to collect paint cups, brushes and paper.

Rindy helped put the crayons back in order with Therese, and suddenly said,

"My daddy doesn't like it when I get things messy," as she tried to colour code the crayons, until Therese insisted it didn't matter.

"Is that why you didn't want to paint?"

She nodded. "If I get clothes dirty, I did a bad thing."

Therese nodded while knowing full well how hard it was for kids to not get clothes dirty; with play and games it was bound to happen. Did Rindy even play?

"Well, we can always draw with crayons. We've got plenty, and you can use whichever ones you want," Therese said, snapping the lid shut. Rindy's face lit up again and she showed Therese her drawing.

"Is this your family?"

"Yah, but just my mom, cause it's just me and Mommy right now," Rindy said, a pudgy finger pointing at a taller doodle of a blonde woman next to a tiny stick-figure girl of Rindy herself.

"Oh, it's really nice, Rindy, are you gonna show your mom? I'm sure she'll love it."

Rindy grinned and giggled, hugging Therese's arm next to her, "thank you Miss B!"

She had the kids line up, and soon enough parents came by to pick them up, cooing and complimenting their various art projects they took home. Mrs. Morgan stopped by and made smalltalk with a few of the moms and the group began to thin out, leaving only a few kids and their parents.

Therese went back into the room just to examine all possessions had been picked up and she only needed to put things back to normal when Rindy came into the room, practically in hysterics with her backpack swinging behind her.

"Miss B! Miss B! My drawing, I forgot it!"

"No worries, Rindy. Look, it's right there." She picked up the drawing left on Rindy's desk and crouched down to hand it to the toddler.

"Oh, thank you Miss B!" The girl threw her small arms around Therese's neck, nearly throwing her off-balance.

"It's a beautiful picture, Rindy. Make sure you don't lose it!"

Pointed clicks of heeled footsteps caught Therese's attention and she looked up to see Director Ross, out of all people, standing in the doorway of the room, staring at the teacher clutching the toddler in her arms. Therese's breath caught as grey eyes met her own.

Paling, Therese let go and stood up quickly, her hands wringing. Was she related to Rindy? Surely not. But she said her mother had come to pick her up.. did Therese really miss that important factor?

"Mommy look!" Rindy squealed, confirming Therese's suspicions. "It's you and me!"

She waved the art above her head, rustling the paper excitedly. Director Ross took and examined it, smiling.

"It's wonderful, Nerinda. Did you say thank you to your teacher for finding it?"

"I did!"

"Alright. Aunt Abby is just outside, why don't you go show her?"

Rindy flew out of the room  with the paper clutched in tiny fists, greeted just out of sight in the hallway by another familiar voice- Miss Gerhard exclaiming "oh hi there kiddo!"

The silence was deafening. Therese felt inadequate, the same way she had slumped in Gen's impeccable shadows during closing night. Here she stood, paint splattered on her hands, still wearing the painting shirt over her top and trousers.

Director Ross on the other hand was wearing a dark brown pencil skirt, and a fitted red blouse that hugged every curve. Her heels made her much taller than Therese remembered- she always wore flats or low heels at rehearsal.

"Hello," she squeaked, feeling bared and exposed. Ross' eyes were unreadable as they stood across from each other.

"So, it was you- this... new art teacher."

"Uhm, yeah, that's me," Therese mumbled, shifting on her feet. Ross came closer, her perfume taking over Therese's senses.

"I saw your name in the directory, but thought it couldn't possibly be the same girl as Abby's dear photographer from months ago."

She remembers me. Dear God. "Yeah, that's me," Therese said again, stupidly. "I-I mean, yes. I studied art as well as photography, but being a photographer isn't the most... fulfilling job. In terms of money."

"Ah, I see. A struggling artist, then?"

"You could say that."

"Well, I must thank you. Rindy seemed overjoyed just now, she couldn't stop talking about you in the mere minutes when Abby and I arrived."

"Really? Oh, goodness."

"Well, up until she realized her picture was missing."

"Of course, she was very enthusiastic about making it. " Therese replied numbly. "I had no idea you were her mother." The last bit was blurted out and Therese nearly kicked herself for sounding so invasive. Carol only smiled lightly in understanding.

"Ross is my maiden name. Aird is my husband's, and so it's Rindy's as well. I should be down as Carol Aird in the directory, just for the sake of continuity at this school," she ran a hand through her locks, and Therese blinked. Carol.

"Your husband?"

"Ah, well, ex-husband I should say. We got divorced just last year."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Carol said, her eyes sweeping across the classroom and settling back on Therese's form, clad in the painting shirt that was far too oversized for her. "Your uniform, I take it?"

Therese blushed and hurriedly unbuttoned it, "Well, sort of," she stammered. "So I don't get paint everywhere."

"I see," Carol responded coolly, eyes roving up and down Therese's form, now clad in a nice, professional outfit without a single splatter of paint. "Seems to have worked."

Therese felt like she was about to faint at the implication that Carol just checked her out, but she kept her cool.

"I'm, uh, looking forward to see Rindy again in this club. She's got a lot of charisma for drawing; that could probably become a talent if she keeps trying."

Carol looked away with a quick shade of guilt passing over her expression.  "Ah, well, that. I hadn't intended to keep Rindy in this -your- club at first. I needed her to stay somewhere until Abby and I finished up a last meeting today."

"Oh, right, of course, silly me," Therese shook her head and smiled at Carol, a little defeated. "She's always welcome, of course."

With that, the brunette turned and headed to the desk to pack up the last of her supples.

"It's not that I wouldn't want her here," Carol blurted out. Therese turned to look at her, the only thing giving away Carol's own nerves being the higher tone in her voice. "It's a bit complicated. I'd rather have her home with me- I mean, I didn't mean-,"

"Of course," Therese said again. "It's no problem, Carol, really. It's only a small art club, it's not NYU."

Carol nodded, irritated at herself that she had been on her way to getting through to the brunette and she messed it up herself.

"But-," Therese piped up. "If you'd like for her to come back, but don't want to miss any time with her, I'm sure you could come help out in the program. If you don't mind getting a bit messy. With paint, that is," she added hastily.

"Really?"

"Sure. Clubs have parent volunteers all the time. You could help me set up," Therese was rambling at this point. "Rindy could paint, and I'd have a better control of the kids that come in here with someone else to help. That is, if you'd like to. There's no issue if you chose not to- only if you  didn't want to miss out on things with Rindy, but if Rindy really liked it here-"

A cool hand touched Therese's upper arm, halting her rant. "I'd love to, Therese, really. It sounds wonderful. I haven't been in a classroom setting for years."

"Right, okay," Therese squeaked. "I can talk to registration about it, if you'd like."

"Well, then. That's that," Carol smiled. She gave Therese a teasing wink and left the classroom, breezing out with newly regained confidence.

Still got it, she thought, as she picked up a chattery Rindy and slung an arm around Abby's middle, heading out to the parking lot. Back in the classroom, Therese continued cleaning up, setting the easels back in place and putting desks in order with a huge grin on her face, humming happily.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 156

156

At the back of the aquarium was the animal park/zoo. Lance wanted to feed the deers, so they did, his boyfriend would have adopted them all if left alone unsupervised for too long. For someone who hadn’t wanted a cow, Lance was pretty attached to his cow. His boyfriend fawning over everything that moved. Zero fear at all when it came to the snakes, where Keith liked to think he has a healthy fear of them. They did their own thing and he did his own thing. Never the pair to cross paths. How could they have snakes near open pens with pattble bunnies did his head in. Didn’t they worry the snakes would get the rabbits? The pavilion was dedicated to kids more than adults, Lance seemed to fit right in. Keith conned into rabbit cuddles. As nice as it was terrifying trying not to drop the rabbit, Kosmo was cuter when he’d been smaller. Lance just as cute as he smiled up at him holding his own rabbit happily. The rabbit in Keith’s arms was... he supposed... cuterish... until it pooped and Lance cackled so hard he had lean against the rabbit pen wall. This was why Kosmo was better. Keith taking a baby wipe from a zoo worker to clean up the mess on his hand as the rabbit was half dropped and half thrown the few inches back into its pen. Fuck rabbits and fuck snakes. They weren’t for him. He had Kosmo and he had Blue. That was definitely enough to keep him happy in the fur department.

Stumbling his steps, Keith came to a stop as he held Lance to him. His boyfriend’s colour faded from his face as sweat beads rolled down his forehead. The day wasn’t terribly warm, but the lack of cloud cover and coming out the air conditioning must have been getting to Lance. The pavilion was like a cool oasis before you stepped out into heat and the paths that looped around back to where they currently were

“Babe, want to take a break?”

Expecting Lance to say no, because he was a stubborn idiot about all the wrong things, his boyfriend nodded

“Sorry. I need to sit for a bit”

Okay. He wasn’t going to freak out. Nope. Lance had made it clear he was over being fussed over. A quick scan and he’d found a converted building with a neon sign in the window

“There’s a cafe. Let’s get something to drink”

“Yeah... I need a moment”

Propping Lance up, Keith lead them over to the cafe where he glared a couple away from the only available seats on the shaded veranda of the old building. Sitting Lance down, his boyfriend pushed his chair back, leaning heavily on his thighs as he hunched forward, legs spread as if he thought he might vomit between his feet

“Babe?”

“I’m sorry. Can you get me some water?”

“Yep. Hang on. Don’t move, I’ll be right back”

Grabbing two bottles of water Keith’s anxieties had him practicing what he’d say to the server as he took his place in line. The family at the sandwich counter were fighting with kids over having to eat sandwiches and not cream topped cake. The aircon in the house barely seemed to make a dent, and when he got to the counter he fumbled down both bottles of water, flustered and annoyed over the wait. Paying for both bottles hurt his heart. No bottle of water ever should cost $5 each. That was ridiculous. If Lance hadn’t needed water he’d definitely have had some very choice words to say over how they ran their cafe. In his rush to get back to Lance he nearly forgot his wallet, then bumped squarely into some kid that started crying. Apologising to the cranky mother who rushed to her precious darlings side, Keith had had enough of crowds. Enough of people. Like, couldn’t they see he was in an obvious rush? Or did they expect him to make Lance wait, then would complain if Lance threw up in front of their kids? People were too damn complicated. He should have been paying better attention to when Lance stopped laughing and started stumbling.

Lance had stripped off his jumper and used it to cover his belly as he leant against the veranda railing in his chair. His boyfriend still looked ill, but at least he was upright. A few people were glancing in his direction. Keith resisting the urge to snap at them for staring. If they were going to state they could at least offer assistance

“Babe, I’ve got the water”

Raising his head Lance blinked at him, a smile slowly coming to his lips

“Hmm... what? Oh. Thanks...”

“Are you okay? You don’t look like you feel very well”

“Just a little faint. And a whole lot of thirsty. Why do you smell funny?”

Keith handed Lance his bottle of water, using himself to shield Lance from those staring. Raising his upper slightly, Keith didn’t want to think about whatever had been on the kids hands, or on its face. He was going to be a horrible parent. What kind of person felt icky about a strangers dirty kid? Kids were dirty creatures

“Bumped into a kid. More like they bumped into me. I have no idea why it was on the loose”

“You were rushing, weren’t you?”

Sprung. He couldn’t help but rush. Ten minutes in a line of people who felt as frustrated as he did then turned out to not be able to make their damn minds up either. Then again, the cakes did actually look good. Maybe had Krolia not given him food poisoning he would have picked a slice to share with his boyfriend

“Maybe?”

Lance sighed, cracking open his bottle of water as he did. His boyfriend realising he was watching him

“Come sit down already. I’m alright. I’m feeling better in the shade”

“You said you felt faint. If this is too much...”

How often did Lance feel faint? Often enough to hide it from him?

“Keith, sit down already. It’s hotter out here than I expected. That’s it. I’m fine”

Keith didn’t quite believe Lance as he sat across from him. They’d done a fair bit of walking. The complex deceptively large inside with the outdoor area feeling more like an after thought. Still, this was closest thing to an actual zoo in the area. It made sense why it’d be so popular with families

“You’re frowning. What’s on your mind?”

“How often do you feel faint?”

Lance sighed at him

“It’s okay. I’ve normally had a nap by now and I didn’t sleep that much last night. But I’m fine now I’m sitting. You should drink your water or you’ll end up dehydrated”

“Are you you don’t need it?”

Lance rolled his eyes at him

“Babe. You’ve got to relax. Besides, my bladder is like the size of a walnut these days. I’ve already had to pee like three times. It’s repetitive”

“Was it because of the water?”

Maybe the sound of running water or being surrounded by so much of it was making his boyfriend pee more?

“Nope. I know what you’re hinting at and no. Seriously, they don’t over exaggerate this peeing thing. Everything’s all squished up to make space for these two”

“I’m sorry”

Lance sighed at him again. Replacing the cap on his bottle of water as he leaned on the table

“You don’t need to be sorry. I know you’ve got new dad jitters. I’m enjoying myself, and if it’s any indication by how much these two are moving, they are too. What do you think of this place?”

Keith let Lance have the topic change, sitting back in his chair as he nodded

“It’s cool. I mean. It’s not like hugely fancy, but it’s cool. The rabbits suck”

“I don’t know. I thought they were kind of cute”

“Because you didn’t get crapped on”

“That was definitely an advantage. It’s nice. Just seeing all these people going about their lives. It’s nice”

There was a clear “but” in Lance’s tone

“But...”

“Honestly, a kid tripped and I smelt blood. Kids trip all the time, but it got me wondering how I’d react to our kids”

“And?”

“And I don’t know. It kind of scares me. I mean, I think I’ll be okay. I think it’s just all these extra hormones amping up my senses. I’ve taken care of Pidge and Hunk before, and you without going crazy. I think I’m just over thinking it”

“You wanted to help the kid, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I think I’m touchy because it’s a kid. They’re supposed to be enjoying themselves and not face planting on the walkways”

“They’ll be fine. Seriously though... these kids are scary”

Lance chuckled, his colour still wasn’t improving but if he could laugh Keith would take it as a sign his boyfriend felt a bit better

“That’s going to be us. And we’re going to have two of them. I hope they don’t inherit your sense of direction”

“Rude. I got us here in one piece”

“You did. It hasn’t quite been the same riding around in a car since... you know”

Since Lance flipped a truck to save him and Curtis...

“You still think about that?”

“I think about how damn lucky we were. I don’t know how you’re so willing to get back on your bike after it”

“I haven’t really thought about it. I mean, my accident wasn’t that bad. And I’ve missed my bike. Do you want me to sell it?”

Lance shook his head immediately

“No. No. I mean, I don’t love your bike but you do. I want you to have the things you love. I’m going to have to get used to it sooner rather than later”

“It has been off the road as long as you’ve been pregnant”

“I know. I’m still not sure how we made the twins...”

“When a daddy loves a daddy...”

Groaning at him, Lance’s smile only grew

“When a weird vampire drinks the blood of a weirdo, magical things happen?”

“Something like that. What do you want to do after this?”

Keith had a plan of how he wanted the day to go. First the Aquarium Centre, then out for lunch, then putting on his big boy pants and facing crowds. Lance needed more clothes, especially with how large his stomach was getting. Plus, he wanted to see Lance getting excited over things for their twins. He wanted to check out furniture... maybe choose a theme? That’s what parents did right?

“Maybe take a nap? I know it’s not a very exciting outcome”

“Babe, it’s fine. We can totally head back to the apartment and take a nap. I have no idea how I’m supposed to go back to work with all this time off”

“Does that mean you take a secret nap in the afternoons at the garage?”

Hunk would let him. Matt would see an open opportunity to get up to some kind of mischief. Grease on his hands. A grease moustache. Anything was possible if he let his guard down

“No. But I have thought about it. Then I remember Matt’s there and I think again”

“I don’t think he’d play up at work. You know Rieva tried to pay me rent? I mean, who charges their family rent?”

“Parents?”

Lance shrugged

“Mami never charged me. I told her to put it towards the food bill instead. I’m paying the same amount no matter the number of people in the household”

“You’re using more power and water”

“Yeah, but I’d still rather them save up for their own place or save towards going to see Rieva’s parents. This time last year it was only me and Blue”

“And now?”

“And now we’ve got a whole family in there. I’m so grateful to have met all of you... I’m going to be sad when Curtis leaves for good. It’s not the same without him there”

Keith huffed, hoping his expression seemed as if he was acting hurt

“Should I worry you’re going to run off with him?”

“I don’t know. He does give a pretty good running commentary when we’re watching our shows together. And he’s stopped coming at me with sex toys”

“What am I supposed to tell Shiro when you two elope?”

Lance choked on air, coughing as he shook his head

“I don’t want to die... Shiro would kill me. What about you? Would you stop the wedding?”

“Nope. I’d burn down the church so you couldn’t marry him in the first place”

“Babe, you can’t burn down churches!”

Still coughing, Lance opened his bottle of water again and proceeded to choke on that too. Keith hanging his head, useless against an invisible enemy. He’d gone and made himself upset with his own jokes. Lance was right though. Curtis was into cheesy dramas and Keith really wasn’t. Asking questions only got him glared at as Lance would be forced to spend more time explaining things to him than watching his show. Slowly recovering, Lance wiped his mouth, still coughing slightly as he shook his head again

“I have to pee again. I’ll be right back”

“You’ll be okay?”

Lance gestured towards the sign Keith hadn’t noticed. There were toilets at the side of the cafe

“I’ll be right back. Here, look after my stuff”

Lance’s stuff was his wallet and phone. Keith tapping the screen to check the time and noticing Lance had half a dozen missed calls from Hunk and Matt, his boyfriend’s phone set to “Do Not Disturb”. That couldn’t be good. Pulling out his own phone, Keith opened up his contacts, calling Matt instead of Hunk. Hunk would have been the better one to call, but if something was going on, Matt would be the calmer one to relay information. The call took long enough to connect that Keith was bored of holding his phone to his ear, and a little annoyed Matt hadn’t answered immediately

“Keith?”

“You called? What’s wrong now?”

Okay. He could have hidden someone of his annoyance, but Matt could have also texted whatever was up to Lance

“Oh! Shit. Yeah. Are you with Lance?”

No. He was on a doomed mission to Pluto. Where else was he going to be?”

“Yeah, we’re on a date. What’s going on?”

“His sister showed up here today. No idea what she wanted, but she left in a hurry. Rieva saw her as she was leaving for work”

“Which sister?”

“I don’t know... Rieva said she was pretty shocked to see her, then didn’t look too happy Lance wasn’t home”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Nope. She thought I should call you guys and let you know as soon as possible. She said she caught her peaking in through the lounge room window”

That couldn’t be good. What the hell was Lance’s sister doing showing up?!

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll let Lance know. If you see her again, don’t bother asking why she’s around...”

“I know it’s complicated, but you sound like you’re not going to tell Lance. Has something happened?”

Maybe the thought had crossed Keith’s mind, but Lance wouldn’t be impressed if Keith didn’t tell him

“Not that I know. I don’t think it’s a touching family reunion she’s after”

“Hunk said the same thing. Anyway, bro. I’ll let you get back to your date. Are you guys coming home today?”

“Maybe. Lance wants to spend some time with Curtis”

“Okay, well, Rieva put the alarm on. I’ll let you know if his sister shows up again”

“Thanks”

Keith hung up as Matt was saying his goodbyes. Keith now really wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t tell Lance that one of his sisters was snooping around his house. He vaguely remembered Rachel had drug problems, so maybe... she was going to break in? Veronica had kids... what had she done with them? Luis and Lisa hadn’t told Nadia and Sylvio about Lance. Or was it Lisa? Had Luis sent Lisa to ask for Mami’s ring? Maybe Rieva had gotten it wrong and it wasn’t Lance’s sister... but then who would it be? Why would some strange woman who wasn’t Krolia be poking around Lance’s home? Rome better not have reversed their decision. Fucking Matt had ruined his whole mood. Shoved the responsibility on him, and now it’d be on his mind until the end of their date if he didn’t tell Lance about it right now. Keith didn’t want to skip the nocturnal section. He wanted to get his own back over the rabbit incident by teasing Lance over a family reunion with the bats. He missed Lance’s tiny little bat form. With his chubby belly and tiny little teeth as he fed from Keith’s finger. He wished he’d taken video of Lance floating around in the ice cream container in the bathtub. Or with his bubble beard and unamused look... But if he told Lance, Lance would be depressed and worried for the rest of their visit to the zoo.

Waiting for his boyfriend to return, Keith started getting concerned as people came and went from the public toilets with none of those people being Lance. Gathering up their things, Keith ignored the few looks he got as he left the veranda area and turned the corner to head into the public toilets. Stared at as if his arrival was somehow startling, Keith made his over to the three cubicles against the wall. Leaning against the corner as if he was waiting in line, and not waiting to see who came out of which one to determine where his boyfriend was.

Pretending to be polite, Keith gestured to those actually as the two cubicles opened, with Lance in the closest, he was grateful the zoo employed the simple turn locks and nothing fancy as he slipped the edge of one of Lance’s key into the small slit, to let himself into the cubicle. Sitting on the toilet lid, Lance had a wad of tissues to his nose as he cried silently, Keith rushing to lock the door behind him and move to kneel in front of his boyfriend

“Babe?”

Raising his head, Lance hiccuped softly, relief coming into his big blue eyes

“Keith...”

That was all it took for Keith to be wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Lance shuddering as he let out an audible sob

“Babe, what happened?”

If someone had hurt Lance, he was going to murder them very slowly for daring to touch him. Logic out the window, and the numerous other reasons Lance’s nose could be bleeding, out with it

“I’m... I... panicked... and I... my nose”

Lance sounded all stuffy, as he would have if he had a broken nose or a head cold

“Can I see?”

Nodding Lance drew back, Keith cupping his face in his hands as his boyfriend pulled the toilet paper away from his nose

“What happened?”

“I panicked... and bumped a guy who pushed me... and I smacked my face”

Who the fuck shoved someone who’d bumped them by accident?!

“I’m going to kill him”

“No... no... this is my fault”

“Babe, your nose is messed up!”

Why couldn’t Lance admit that he wasn’t to blame?! Clearly the other guy had over reacted

“I... he broke my nose... and my arm... and I... I killed him”

Hang on. What? Keith hadn’t seen any dead bodies in the bathroom. A normal human had a habit of screaming in the face of a discovery like that. The only person... oh...

“Hey. Hey, you’re okay. He’s gone. He’s gone and he’s not going to hurt you again”

“I know... I didn’t mean to panic... the... the basement had a stone floor and it came out of nowhere... and I tried to hide it... but I...”

Lance was starting to smell sweet. The wanker who’d pushed him had pushed him right over the edge. He was lucky Lance was coherent enough to talk to him. Fucking Sendak

“Okay. You’re okay. I’m sorry I didn’t come faster. Does your nose hurt?”

Lance nodded, bottom lip bleeding too from where his fangs had pierced it. Lance didn’t tell him Sendak broke his nose and his arm. Keith wished he could resurrect the wank stain and lop his damn head off for himself

“My whole head hurts. He hurt Curtis and I lost my head. I didn’t... I...”

“Shhh. You were in an impossible situation. You need to calm your breathing down. Can you do that?”

“I can’t smell you...”

Thanks to fucking blood across his face

“I know. I’m here though. Breathe through your mouth. In for 6 out for 12...”

Lance nodded at him, making the attempt

“Good. Good, just like that. Just like that. He’s gone and you never have to see him again... just keep breathing for me”

As Lance kept on with trying to calm his breathing, Keith pulled off a long strip of toilet paper, starting to clean his boyfriend’s face up. Lance would heal, but it wasn’t fair that some douche took his bad mood out on him. Lance’s voice wavered as he mumbled

“Is it bad?”

“I’m pissed as hell, but not at you”

“I’m trying. I am... but... when I saw the floor I panicked...”

“Hey. You’re not to blame”

“I ruined our whole date!”

“You didn’t ruin anything. Nothing at all. You’re okay now. Fuck... I should have come in with you”

“You were on the phone”

Right. Super hearing. Lance had probably heard every rude thing whispered as people watched him recovering. He couldn’t lie. Lance deserved better than a lie, even if this wasn’t the time for the truth

“Matt called. He said your sister came to see you. Rieva didn’t know which one”

Lance’s sharp intake of breath cause Keith to knock his boyfriend’s nose, more blood running from his nostrils in a fresh wave as he hissed in pain

“Sorry! I’m so sorry...”

Lance whimpered as Keith wiped the blood up. Shiro would have once lost his shit over him doing this without thinking twice

“Can we go home? I... want to go home...”

“Yeah, babe. We’ll wait a little longer until your nose stops bleeding. Do you need anything? Can I get you anything? Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

“N-no... I scratched myself... with my nails... I didn’t...”

“Shhh. You’re not to blame and you’d be saying the same thing if our positions were reversed. Can you show me?”

Lance’s nails were long and lethal looking. His boyfriend had scratched up the soft skin of his inner left wristKeith had a fair idea of what happened. Lance would have walked into the bathroom, moving out the way of someone leaving. He’d probably looked down and seen the floor. Feeling himself panicking and his body reacting, his boyfriend would have tried to hide in the first available cubicle, accidentally bumping the guy who’d shoved him out the way. With how good Lance’s memory was, he’d be recalling Sendak’s touch, associating it with the feel of his nose getting messed up and panicked further. When had going to the toilet become so dangerous? People sucked.

“A few scratches but your jumper will hide them. You’ll be okay. We’ll go back to the apartment and we can snuggle”

“I’m so sorry... I ruined our whole date”

“You didn’t. You didn’t do a single thing wrong”

“I must have... he shoved me so hard...”

Why hadn’t he grabbed his fucking gun? Stabbing the guy didn’t seem as good as shooting him in both feet and making the man walk himself to help

“He’s the one with the problem, not you. Let me clean your chin up. You’ve got blood down you front”

Using up most of his bottle of water, Keith got Lance as cleaned up his could. His boyfriend’s scent spiking in waves, Lance not mentioning it so Keith didn’t either. Replacing the toilet paper with a fresh wad, once Lance had his jumper back on, Keith got his boyfriend standing then flushed away all the evidence, careful to triple check there was no split blood on the floor or the door. So much for the peaceful date that they both more than deserved.

[lokimostly]

Polaris (Ch.5/?)

Loki x Reader, Pirate!AU Word count: 3,351 Warnings: smutty undertones? Summary: Your life has always been set in stone. Born to a wealthy merchant family in the Caribbean, you’ve spent your years as an heiress in the daytime, escaping at night to wander the streets of St. Thomas. Now, on the eve before your life settles into mundanity for good, you discover someone who could change everything– if you choose to trust him, that is.

A/N: Thanks for all the love! I’m really enjoying this series so far, and all of your comments as you read it! Keep on, dudes! 

Chapter One ~ Chapter Two ~ Chapter Three ~ Chapter Four ~ Chapter Six  ~ Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Eight ~ Chapter Nine ~ Chapter Ten ~ Chapter Eleven ~ Chapter Twelve ~ Chapter Thirteen ~ Chapter Fourteen

“Captain?!” You repeated, whirling around as soon as Loki closed the door to his cabin. When the latch clicked shut, the clamor of thumping boots and gravelly voices dimmed somewhat.

You were a mess with your hair askew and dress tattered. Loki, on the other hand, looked the picture of how you’d seen him the night you met: roguishly handsome, dressed in black with a mysterious streak in his sea-colored eyes. An unruly curl of raven hair fell into his face when he sheathed his rapier. His lips were pressed together in a thin line of silence.

His lack of response unnerved you. How was he so calm? Your chest was heaving with emotion. 

You took a step forward across the dark floor. “I knew it,” you declared, jabbing your finger at him. “I knew you were a pirate from the moment we met–”

In an instant Loki had crossed the floor and you were pinned against the wall. Not the response you’d been hoping for, but it was something. 

 “What are you playing at?” He snarled, holding you against the panelling by your wrists, one of his knees pressed between your legs. You tried to swallow your heart and ignore the twisting of your stomach at the same time. This felt uncomfortably similar to one of your dreams. His nose nearly brushed against yours. He was so close you could smell him – that odd combination of leather, saltwater and rose. 

You swallowed. His eyes were locked with yours, searching, prying into your mind for the answer he desired. “Why were you on that ship?” He asked in a low growl.

“Why do you care?” You quipped, hoping that you sounded brave.

“Don’t be stupid, it doesn’t flatter you,” he snapped, and let go. You hadn’t realized he was holding you off the floor until his hands loosened their grip and your back slid down the wall. Your feet nearly stumbled when they hit the floor, and you caught yourself on the dresser. 

Loki stepped away, undoing the sword belt from his waist and tossing it onto the bed. You watched as he clenched his jaw and exhaled through his teeth – this was the first time you’d seen him frustrated, wasn’t it? Part of you wanted to laugh at him. He obviously wasn’t well-acquainted with not getting his way. But the other, deeper part of you found it arousing to watch him rake a hand through his black hair, to see his muscular chest pull against the fabric of his shirt when he breathed in, the way his jaw flexed. 

A mix of arousal and curiosity ate at your insides like a dog gnawing on dry bones. “So you don’t deny it?” You prodded, cautiously leaning forward when you asked. “That you’re a pirate?” 

“Well, it’d be a little hard to now, wouldn’t it?” Loki  said, in a surprisingly matter-of-fact tone, not the hostile one you were expecting. He reached back and pulled his hair swiftly into a ponytail, loose strands falling forward and into his face, but he paid them no mind. His long legs strode over to the ornately carved desk on one side of the room and he sat down, setting his boots atop the desk and turning his head to look at you. “I won’t ask again. Why were you on that ship?”

You shrugged, stepping away from the wall. “The vessel I was originally condemned to left mere minutes before I arrived.” Loki watched silently as you began looking around the room, growing more comfortable. His eyes trailed you as you found the large four-poster bed, the ornate rug and armchair, the modest shelf of books near the desk. The room felt like Loki’s– there were pieces of him strewn about like a puzzle, hiding inside the bookshelves or in the sea-green embroidery of the pillows –just waiting to be put together. 

You glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow when you caught him staring. Your gazes held. “I thought it might’ve been your doing,” you continued.

Loki scoffed, shaking his head and waving a hand dismissively. “No. I would never be so obvious. And I told you I couldn’t help, remember?”

You shrugged and walked over to the desk, picking up an ornate metal sphere off its stand and fiddling with it, spinning it with your fingers. “So why attack my ship?” You asked. “A question for a question.”

Loki reached up and snatched the bauble from your hands. “It wasn’t your ship. You are an unforeseen complication, which I am dealing with as politely as I can. If you recall, my intent was never to capture you.”

“What was your intent?”

His eyes stared up at you for a moment before he laughed, flashing his wolfish white teeth. “What, there has to be some deeper motive to piracy?” He asked, closing eyes and leaning his head back against the chair, exposing more of his skin. The pale column of his neck travelled downwards until it disappeared into his open-necked shirt.

You huffed and did your best not to stare, focusing your frustration into your words instead. “Don’t be stupid, it doesn’t flatter you.” Loki’s mouth quirked at your reclamation of his insult. “You are son and partial heir to the largest merchant shipping company in the Caribbean. You have no want for riches, or women. Piracy is a hanging crime. Why do it?”

He opened one eye curiously. “Who says I have no want for women?”

Your face flushed. “I–” you started, swallowing. “Thor mentioned it.”

Both eyes opened and his wide grin returned. “Did he?” He asked, rising slowly to his feet and taking a lazy, predatory step towards you. “What did he tell you?” 

You took two steps backwards, staring up at him with wide-eyes, trying to find your words and your footing at the same time. “I– he said that you, well, you had a reputation–”

“For what, exactly?” Loki smirked, enjoying the sight of your cheeks turn ten different shades of red in a matter of seconds.

“For– for wooing women,” you said, feeling incredibly cornered despite his nonchalant approach. Your back hit one of the bedposts and your fingers wrapped around the ornately carved wood like an anchor.  “That you– that you could bed whoever you liked on a whim.”

Loki’s blue-green gaze flitted from you, to the bed behind you, and his eyes darkened. A terrible shiver went down your spine. Was he picturing you there, lying with limbs spread and skin bare for him to claim as his own?

His low, smooth voice pulled you back to reality. “Only those who wanted to be bedded, little one,” he murmured through a smirk. “Where do your find yourself in that perspective, I wonder?” He stepped away without waiting for your reply and leaned against the desk, drumming his fingers on the wood. “Odin means to rule these seas. I merely mean to provide him with some competition.” 

You took a measured breath and collected yourself, loosening your iron grip on the bedpost. “What, leveraging yourself towards being the favorite child?” You asked, but the attempt at a mocking tone died in your throat and your voice quavered.

Loki’s eyes darkened again – no, they saddened. The rest of his face was hiding it well behind a mask of nonchalance, but his sea-green eyes gave away some deep and remorseful tone. Why on earth did he look that way?

You opened your mouth to ask him, but the look was there and gone in a blink. Loki stood, pushing in the chair and pushing up his sleeves. “I have my crew to attend to. Don’t leave this room.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Why not?” You protested, as he opened the door and stepped through.

“There are clothes in the dresser,” he called, ignoring your question, before the heavy door shut behind him, leaving you alone.

You felt a rise of rebellion swell in your chest and you let it stew angrily for a moment, glaring daggers at the wooden door. You hadn’t counted on Loki to help you, per se, but you certainly hadn’t expected him to be your captor.

You sat down on the edge of the bed and stewed. Minutes passed. Your hands played with the strings of your dress while you considered your thoughts. Loki was a pirate. You were on a pirate ship. God only knew where it was headed, but certainly not to Europe. And on top of all that, you still needed a way out of your arranged marriage.

It might not have been the adventure you’d imagined, but your life was turning out to be an interesting saga nonetheless. 

“Clothes,” you repeated quietly, and looked down at your dress. The fabric was torn and dirty, practically in strips at some parts. You pulled at the frayed material, watching as it came away easily from the rest of the dress. Obviously the dress hadn’t been made to run around in, merely to look pretty. 

The dresser in the corner of the room, next to a standing mirror, revealed a wide array of pants, stockings and bishop-sleeved shirts that Loki was prone to wearing. You weren’t one to turn down the opportunity to wear trousers, but the man had legs for days. You doubted you could roll them up high enough to prevent tripping over the bottoms.

You shuffled through the coat hangers, running your hands along the fabric of the occasional shirt. The whole dresser smelled like Loki. You pulled one of the wide sleeves out and inhaled the smell of sea salt and rose, letting your eyelids flutter closed for a moment. What would it be like to be surrounded by that smell – more specifically, by its wearer? 

Your face flushed and you shut the cabinet doors with a slam. No. Absolutely not. You really had to get a hold of yourself. Just because Loki permeated your dreams with his seductive whispers and skilled hands did not mean that he was even remotely interested in you in reality.

Besides, you were engaged. To his brother. 

You cleared your throat pushed your hair back in a practiced motion of composure and ventured to open up the top drawer. 

Oddly, nothing.

You stared at the thin film of dust covering the bottom of the drawer and frowned. The cabinets had been brimming with clothes– why would this drawer be empty? You reached down and pryed your fingers around the edges of the base. The wood panel came loose.

You eyes widened and you made a little triumphant noise under your breath, pulling it up to peer at what had been hidden beneath the false bottom.

A letter. The parchment was yellowed with age and torn in some pages, and the broken crimson wax of the seal was peeling and cracking away. Whatever the document was, it was written more than a decade ago, maybe even two. If this room was a hiding place for pieces of Loki’s puzzle, then the parchment was undoubtedly a crucial piece. 

Your curiosity piqued,  and you reached down to take the paper. If only you could understand what bubbled below the calm surface of him, maybe you could–

The door opened.

In one fell swoop you whirled around, dropping the wooden panel back into place and shutting the drawer with a BANG, staring wide-eyed at Loki, who returned your expression with a more bemused look. 

“Am I interrupting something?” He asked, his eyes narrowed. He stepped into the room slowly, his hand trailing on the doorknob before it fell and the door swung shut.

You cleared your throat and shook your head, hoping that your face wouldn’t give you away. “No, I was– I was looking for a dress.” 

“Well, there’s no need to look so guilty about it,” Loki chided, coming over and reaching around you, pulling open the bottom drawer and revealing a neatly folded dress, the same color as the broken seal. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, and pulled it out to observe. The fabric was matte and smooth, without the usual sheen of finer satins and silks, but it wasn’t coarse to touch. The neck was a low, wide scoop, with elbow-length sleeves and a flat skirt. No crinoline slip.

“You’ll need help, I assume.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Loki’s hand brushed over yours when he took the red fabric in his hands and flipped it over to show you the backside – a typical lace-up. 

The thought of Loki’s fingers brushing against your back made you shiver and you shook your head stubbornly. “No, I can do it myself.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” You took the dress back. “I’ll be fine.”

Loki’s eyes flickered over you in amusement, and his thin lips twisted upwards. “I’ll wait outside for your call.”

“There won’t be one!” You said, as he shut the door behind him. 

Curse him for being so thoughtful.

You forced yourself to abandon the thought of the letter from your mind. If Loki knew that you would need help with the lacing, he had a good estimation of how long it took to put on a dress.

Then again, who said you had to read it right this minute? 

You opened the first drawer once more – carefully, so the wood didn’t creak – and lifted the panel, snatching the parchment from its hiding spot. You disrobed swiftly from your tattered dress, and then your chemise. You folded the chemise neatly and hid the letter within the fabric, setting it in the drawer before closing it again.

The dress slid on easily. You slipped your arms through the sleeves, reaching backwards and finding the lace strings that tied the back, and pulled. Immediately they cinched around your waist, but you could feel how terribly loose the strings were further up your back – where, despite your stretching and grasping, your fingers couldn’t reach.

“Damn,” you swore quietly. You had wanted to be able to do it yourself– the thought of Loki’s hands  brushing the skin of your back was only too alluring, and therefore necessary to avoid, but it didn’t seem like you had much choice in the matter: a recently recurring theme in your life these days.

As if on cue, the door opened again. You didn’t have time to turn around and greet him – the door closed, and then you felt Loki’s fingers take the strings from your hands and begin tightening the back.

“Why you would wear these voluntarily is beyond me,” he murmured. It couldn’t have been on purpose, but the low, slightly gravelly tone in his voice made it sound as though he would prefer you naked. Even though you knew it wasn’t the case, the thought sent a cool shiver down your spine. You tried to ignore the warmth of his breath down your back and the occasional grazing of his knuckles on your skin by staring intensely at the wooden floorboards.

“Well, the key word is voluntarily.”

“Why didn’t you choose trousers, then?”

“I–” you paused, considering it. “I didn’t think it was an option.”

“I didn’t think you were one to follow the rules,” he said mildly, tying off the dress and placing one large hand on your shoulder, reaching around with the other to tilt your chin up so that you could see your reflection in the standing mirror.

Oh.

You weren’t sure you recognized the girl staring back at you – her hair undone and face clean of cosmetics, wearing a subtly scandalous dress. It was different from the reflection you were used to – the one you were so often unhappy with. 

The scooping neckline barely clung to your shoulders and dipped scandalously low to your chest. The middle was cinched just enough to follow the curve of your waist before flaring out to the skirt. Unlike every other garment you’d worn, there was no slip beneath, and the fabric simply hung instead of flaring out. It complemented you.

Your eyes travelled upwards, past long legs and a slim torso, to where Loki stood behind you, his hand on your shoulder and fingers still hovering below your chin. His seaglass eyes were trailing over your body beneath the dress, drinking you in slowly until they met yours in the mirror.

You watched your face flush and you quickly turned around, clearing your throat. “I’d like to go up now.” 

Loki’s eyebrows pulled together momentarily and he shook his head once. “No.” He took a backwards step and raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You think I would let you roam around on the deck and distract my men? I gave them specific orders not to bother you, remember?”

Your jaw dropped in indignation. “It’s your dress!”

“Oh, but it might as well have been made for you,” he countered, giving you another unabashed look up and down. His lips quirked in a quieted expression and he sighed ruefully. “If only my brother could see you.”

Was that … regret in his voice?

“Besides,” he continued, “I have no time to look after you.”

You sucked in your cheeks and stared at him for a moment, narrowing your eyes. He gazed back. It was so odd to think that you were looking at a pirate – and a frustratingly handsome one at that. If he had half of an idea what you’d imagined about him… 

Never mind. Pirate or not, you weren’t going to let him get in the way of your adventure.  

“Well,” you quipped, “ then its’ a good thing I don’t need looking after.” You moved past him before he could react – pulling open the door, picking up your dress and running up the steps to the deck. 

You heard Loki shout your name behind you, but as soon as your feet landed on the boards above, you forgot about him entirely.

The ship and its crew were something out of a storybook. Characters you couldn’t dream up – men with tattoos, piercings and missing limbs – were all working together, laughing together in unison. Mismatched as they were, they all fit. The white sails of the ship billowed in the warm wind, propelling you ever onward. You turned in a slow circle, trailing the cyan blue horizon the whole way round till you came back to the front, and you were facing Loki. A particularly exasperated Loki.

“Had your fill?” He asked in a low tone, offering his hand with a thin smile. “If you would be so kind as to let me escort you back.” His words were honey-coated like a fly trap.

You glanced at his hand and bit back a laugh. He thought he could trap you with social niceties, out here in the middle of the sea? You were on a pirate ship, for heaven’s sake. No one cared about formalities here – you least of all. 

“No, I don’t think I will,” You smirked, and stepped past him again. You laughed at the spluttering sound that escaped his lips, quickening your steps when you heard him chasing after you. The three-masted ship was brimming with cargo and difficult to maneuver across, and you picked up your skirts to keep from tripping over yourself. The crew paid you no notice – not when you ducked between them, or wove in and out of the crates and barrels to escape their captain.

You ran around the main mast and peeked out one side at Loki, who stood with his hands on his hips and his raven hair falling into his face, which was unusually flushed.

“This is absurd,” he snapped. “Come here.”

You grinned. “No.” 

“You’re being a child.”

“I’m enjoying the fresh air,” you corrected. “And being rather inconveniently chased around. This dress isn’t easy to run in, you know.” 

You watched his face go through several expressions of frustration before he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Alright, let’s make a deal.” 

Your heart fluttered a bit and you shoved it back down. “Okay.”

Loki ran his long fingers through his raven hair, pushing it back into place – save for the one unruly strand that always fell forward, his signature look. “You can roam wherever you like,” he started, stepping towards you and lowering his voice for emphasis, “but only if you follow the rules. Any sign of trouble and you return to your cabin.” He counted the instructions out on his long fingers. “No talking to the crew. You stay out of the way. And don’t even think about climbing the ropes–” 

You stopped him by grabbing his wrist and laughing, quickly drawing an ‘X’ over your heart with your free hand. “Alright, alright. I promise.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A/N: Thanks for reading! Tag list is still open (I don’t have the heart to close it... is there a tagging limit on posts?) 

Tag List: @neontiiger​, @un-consider-it​, @jessiejunebug​, @nerdypisces160​, @lokiisntdeadbitch​, @e-wolf-90​, @cursedmoonstone-blog​, @kikaninchen-2​, @bluebellhairpin​, @evy-lyn​, @midnight-queen-1​, @travelingmypassion​, @harrybpoetry​, @adefectivedetective​, @absolutecraziness13​, @kumikokagato, @randomfangirl7​, @timetraveler1978​, @tarynkauai, @arcanethamin​, @ornate-ribcage​, @julianettedoe, @kinghiddlestonanddixon​, @yespolkadotkitty​, @befearlesslyauthenticc​, @ladybugsfanfics, @thisisaclusterofablog, @groupies-do-it-better, @just-the-hiddles, @quenilla, @amyy-moonlightt, @pandacookieowo, @thatweirdwalangpake, @alexakeyloveloki, @littlemissporter, @yes-captainstark, @justawriterwithdreams, @beautyandflannel

[ladyinfierno]

That last one was delightful thank you I 100% would've sent one sooner if I could make up my mind on what to send in, but yay here I am! However..I don't know what ship to pair with this so good luck: 4[/ 5] and 94 (bonus points for lesbians)

Ahhh thank you! ;w; Don't worry, I'm a bit slow filling these prompts anyway :) Also I'm assuming this is for Hetalia, by the timing of the ask

Coffee shop/Bar/Restaurant AU + Hair brushing/Braiding - SpAus

I've been slowly falling in love with this pairing and they came to mind instantly.

Note 1: I know the fandom has Isabel as Spain's name but I'll call her Antonia too because I want people to call her Toña affectionately, there's no other reason behind this decision, please and thank you. María Isabel Antonia Fernández Carriedo, ajúa :v

Note 2: I know Austria has names from Anneliesse to Lieselotte, I'll call her Ro because I'm not well versed in Austrian names and don't want to spend two hours in baby name pages trying to decide.

- First of all: I always imagine Spain making killer desserts in whatever universe there is, so of course we'll start with Antonia being the proud owner of Malagueña, a small bakery/coffee shop that has the best hot chocolate and torrejas combo in the city. Probably the only one, but still.

- The place is small, with a couple tables outside and a lot of potted flowers. It opens early and the owner can be seen sweeping the front of the store still half asleep but dedicatedly. It's only a matter of time until a small line starts forming at the counter, from all those other working souls seeking caffeine to go through their days.

- There's three other people working there divided on morning and afternoon shifts, since the three of them are students and Antonia is flexible with schedules. A Belgian girl studying photography, a Belarusian maths student whose recipe for nalistniki landed her in cooking duty immediately and the high school punk girl with green eyes and big eyebrows that’s really good with beverages.

- Lunch is always the busiest hour of the day, since they're surrounded by small companies and some schools, so she takes cashier duty while helping make orders between customers.

- Then, like clockwork, through the door enters the most beautiful woman Antonia has ever seen. The dark suit is always a different shade between blue and purple, sometimes pants, sometimes pencil skirt and black thighs, and the click-clack of her modest high heels make the Spanish woman's heart speed up.

- Ro, the music teacher at one of the schools surrounding the café, always with that "better than you" kind of attitude that in reality is just a lot of well ingrained manners and etiquette. Her long hair is always braided in some way, small braids at the top, a big one in a bun, one way or another, her hair is always adorned by them.

- By the time she reaches the counter Antonia is already picking out the pastry of the day and the freshly made vanilla coffee she will order, no doubt. Because the best way to get to someone's heart is through their stomachs, right?

- Ro always smiles gently at her and takes her sweet lunch to a corner table by the window. Cue Antonia smiling stupidly at everyone and everything for the next thirty minutes, and sighing longingly after that when Ro leaves, always thanking and smiling at her before returning to school.

- Everyone knows. Everyone and their mother know how head over heels Antonia is, not only her employees or the regular clients, whoever steps in the café and sees that look of absolute adoration in her face can't really deny it.

- But they have to wonder if the other woman feels the same.

- Hint: in this house we don't do unilateral pining.

- Antonia has a brother, who at some point visits her from Portugal and ends up meeting this beautiful Austrian woman who always comes in at the same time, is very polite to his sister and smiles fondly at her from her corner table, her gaze softening... He just has to smack her little sister in the head for not only being obvious, but oblivious.

- Then one day, as every other day, Julchen is there, eating a hot cuernito and leaving crumbs everywhere while waiting for her girlfriend's shift to end. Alice meanwhile is complaining about the blatant stage of denial her boss is in. (If you thought I couldn't slip pruk in this you're wrong.)

- "Just the other day, she came in, took her lunch, and before going back to her table she asked Tonia if she wanted to go to a music concert, something or another about her school's orchestra, and you know what the boss did? She went all 'Ohh, that sounds nice! I'll make sure to spread the word!' Agh! She even asked the lady if she had pamphlets!"

- And in the middle of her laughing (and making an even bigger mess with her food) Julchen stops and asks: "Wait, like the concert my school's orchestra is doing next week?"

- OF COURSE, Julchen who is also a high school student and plays the flute has Ro as her teacher so YES Austria is teaching Prussia how to play and they still bicker like old ladies but one is 17 and the other is 29, please let me have this.

- So she spends the next twenty minutes talking about her very much lovestruck music teacher, who always seemed to be in a better mood after lunch and how she always attributed that to eating pastries (which is not entirely wrong btw) but now she knows is because of Antonia.

- "Look, I'm not even exaggerating. Once I failed every note of a piece on purpose, so I'm waiting there for rage and thunder, and instead she sighs and tells me to take a break, 'go eat something sweet', and dismisses me from practice for ten minutes. She was smiling, everyone was terrified."

- And... they don't know what to do with this new information. Like, should they help two almost-thirty-year-old women get together? The answer is, most likely, yes. But I don't really see them needing a complicated plan, just casual comments like "Oh, Miss Edelstein? Yeah, she's Jules' music teacher, she told me she loves Edelweiss flowers" or "Yeah, my girlfriend works at that lovely coffee shop down the street, I think the owner loves turtle themed things?" Like... not really subtle but they help.

- The day they finally go on a date everyone cries a bit inside of happiness.

- Everything stays almost the same, with the teacher still coming in for lunch and leaving with a soft smile, the busy boss waving animatedly from her place behind the counter, but now, at the end of the shift, there the teacher is again, waiting to "be escorted to her house", as it was previously agreed, apparently. Natalya is the one recounting this the next day to her fellow baristas.

- Final scene: Warm light comes through half opened curtains, the day begins as any other, and the only sound is the content humming of Antonia while her fingers card through thin dark hair, being careful not to tug too hard while keeping the braid in place; today is a neat, thin one in the middle of a half ponytail. She kisses it once it's finished, to make sure it's made with love, and Ro just rolls her eyes and pulls her down for a proper kiss.

On a final note, I made myself hungry while writing this and can't go buy any of the pastries here, hope it goes better for you :'v

Also wanted to put Francis in here but I kept getting war flashbacks from this trio relationship so, maybe he’s the best friend who offers advice or something.

[thinkyoureholy]

Soul Eater [8]

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Pairing : Jung Yunho / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Demon! AU

Words : 3.5k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Y/N's P.O.V-

I had just finished wrapping Yunho's wrist up, sending him to the bathroom to wash up before going to bed. Mingi had come up halfway through me doing so with a bag of Yunho's clothes in hand. Throughout the whole thing Yunho was trying to get out of the current living situation but every time I cut off his protests with a single sentence.

"Whether it's here or in your place or in a whole different location entirely, you and I are going as a pair so I can keep a better eye on you and protect you properly."

I didn't read too much into my own words but every time I uttered that sentence in response to his protests he'd blush a deep shade of red, sputtering for a good few seconds before falling silent. I didn't think much of it and I still don't. 

Right now the thing that's been gnawing at my mind were the words said by Ceri, Pride, and Lucifer. They all said something eerily similar and that was disturbing in and of itself. What confused me is what they meant by it. Would did they mean Wrath reincarnated? That can't be possible. Once a sin, an original sin, has died they don't get to come back because they never really had souls to begin with. The deadly sins were created by Lucifer to tempt humans into sinning and proving they weren't worthy of his father's love. He wanted to prove that the creatures his own beloved father cast him out for, chose over him were flawed...and so the seven deadly sins were created. Unlike other demons they were never human and they never sold their soul and so they were unlike any demon that roamed Hell and Earth. And once they died...they were gone forever. So why...why were they saying the original Wrath has reincarnated? Why did Lucifer look so pleased to see that I've 'awakened' as he put it? So many questions were bouncing off the walls of my head and I didn't have answers to any of them. 

And on top of all that there were changing to my demonic form that I just couldn't ignore. I had tested this out only a minute ago when I heard Yunho shut the door of the bathroom. I had thought it was only in that moment but it was wrong...it was every time I shifted. The moment I shifted into my demonic form the blood coursing through my veins seemed to rise in temperature to the point where I thought I'd die from how hot it felt. Along with the heat I'd feel this rage that was so uncontrollable that I was sure it'd consume me if I didn't revert back to my 'human' form. Not only that but my claws got slightly longer, coming to a sharper point. I don't even want to get into the newly formed horns that appeared on my head. All these changes led me back to the unanswered questions I had about Wrath...the first Wrath, the original Wrath. Could I really be his reincarnation?

"Y/N?"

I jumped the slightest bit at the sound of his voice, my thoughts cutting off immediately as I look up at him from where I sat. He had his brow furrowed, giving me a look that was a mix between worry and confusion.

"Are you okay?"

I looked away from him and stared down at my hands for a moment before letting out a sound of confirmation, words being difficult for me to find. That is until I spoke without realizing, meeting his gaze once more seconds later.

"Yunho...tell me if you notice anything different with my eyes." I said blankly, my voice devoid of any and all emotions.

This is how I get my answers. If my eyes are the same then I have nothing to worry about but if-

"They're not black anymore...your irises have changed colors though…"

My heart sank at his words as I inhaled sharply, my shoulders slumping forward, "What color are they now?"

He took a second to think about it, taking a step closer to get a better look, "They're a deep red...almost the color of blood."

And that's when I stopped breathing. I...I can't believe it. It's true...Wrath...he's--he's been reincarnated. And...and to think I'm--so that means...whether I like it or not...I'm the new Wrath. All this time...I spent one thousand years refusing his offer, disgusted by anything that had to do with him only to become what he's always wanted me to be. 

'As glad as I am to see that you've finally awakened I'm not here to fight...though I do wonder how much your strength has improved.'

So he knew...this whole time he knew. That must be why he's always been so lenient with me. I've seen other demons try to defy him and he's killed all of them...all but me. Sure he's given me a beating here and there but he's always made sure he kept me alive. Knowing this filled me with a sense of dread. Just how much longer do I have before I can't turn back...before I'm consumed by the rage I had only heard the original Wrath had? I had only heard stories since he was long dead by the time I became a demon but I knew all the stories, whether they're true or not held a grain of truth to them. 

But if I was a reincarnation then that means I must've been this way when I was human too. The moment that thought made its way into my head I immediately rejected it. There's no way. Human me was pathetic and weak, unable to stand up for myself. As a human I only spoke when spoken too and refused to say no to a request. I was repeated stepped on and taken advantage by those around me, I was spineless. Just thinking back to it had me clenching my hands into fists. 

"Are you alright?"

I didn't immediately react to the sound of his voice, that is until I felt his fingers brush against the skin of my forearm. Without thinking I yanked my arm away from him, uttered three words under my breath before I could stop me.

"Don't touch me." I threatened in a low voice, my eyes meeting his only to finally snap back to reality at the look he had on his face.

Yunho hasn't looked at me that way in months. It was the same look he wore when he first summoned me, seeing my demonic form for the first time. Just seconds prior I had asked him to tell me the color of my eyes so I had stopped my shift there, keeping my nails and wings hidden. But now I felt looming over me, casting a shadow over my face. My sharp claws dug into my palm, drawing blood. I'm sure the horns I had sprouted out on that field were on full display…and Yunho looked absolutely terrified. My face fell at seeing the look in his eyes, my wings slowly coming back down, hanging limply off my back until they finally vanished. I felt my claws retract, hoping my eyes had gone back to normal and the horns I had on my head were gone.

“I’m sorry.” I finally muttered, looking away from him, feeling slightly ashamed at lashing out at him, “Listen..it’s--it’s been a long day, why don’t you get some rest? You can take my room, I’m fine staying out here on the couch.”

“I...I can’t just take your bed. I can-”

“Yunho please...go.” I cut him off, practically begging him to go and get away from me.

Too many things were going on in my head and I don’t know how much longer I can keep everything in before I explode and I’d rather there be something separating us when I do. I have no idea how to control this new power, this new strength. I had a feeling that any little thing could set me off, not like it’s much different to how I was before but at least before I was able to stop myself before I did something I’d regret later but now...now I’m not so sure I’d be able to restrain myself even if I wanted to. And just as I had that thought I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, raising my head to look into his eyes once more...and the look I saw took my breath away.

Yunho smiled gently, a hesitant look crossing his features before he shook his head slightly, bringing the hand he had on my shoulder up to cup my cheek. For some odd reason I felt my eyes well up with unshed tears, a lump forming in my throat.

“You’re telling me to leave but your eyes are begging for me to stay.” He whispered, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped, “You don’t have to keep pushing me away...and even if you keep trying I’ll just keep trying to get closer to you, you know how persistent I am.”

-Yunho’s P.O.V-

I watched as all sorts of different emotions swirled around in her eyes, bringing my other hand up, cupping her face with both my hands. The emotions I saw were uncertainty, longing, loneliness, and the biggest one of all, sadness. It was a big contrast to the look she had on her face when I first walked out of the bathroom. The look she had in her eyes was one of pure rage. I had seen her anger many times before but this look...it was different. I had even been afraid to approach her but even when my mind was screaming at me to just let her be my legs were carrying me over to her before I could stop myself. And though I had mistakenly let her see that fear in my eyes I immediately shook it away, knowing she'd never actually hurt me. And I was right. 

The moment I placed my hand on her shoulder I felt her instantly relax. Again without much warning and before I could stop myself I wrapped my arms around her, bringing her in for a hug. I half expected her to push me away but what she did suprised me more than anything. She buried her face into my shoulder, placing her hands at my sides and grabbed onto my shirt tightly. Within seconds I felt her begin to shake ever so slightly in my grasp, soft cries falling from her lips. 

"I don't want to become like him…" she cried out softly, moving closer to bury herself completely in my hold, "I've been refusing Lucifer all this time...only for this to happen? Why? Why can't I just live and die in peace? Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why...why can't I just be happy for once?"

That last sentence was all it took for her to break down completely. Her cries turned into heart wrenching sobs; the kind of sobs where you can't breath, where you're gasping for air but nothing you do is enough to help, the sobs that have your whole body shaking, the sobs that had anyone that heard them feel a lump forming in their own throat at the emotions they heard falling from your mouth. Just hearing her like this was enough for me to tighten my arms around her, pulling her onto my lap. She wasted no time in curling up in my lap, her face now buried in the crook of my neck, the only sounds heard throughout the apartment were her sobs...that is until she spoke again, broken, but still she got the words out.

"Why...why did it have to be him? If--If I had never met him I...I would've never made that deal."

"Who?" I asked, speaking so softly even I was unsure if I actually spoke out loud.

"My husband."

I tensed under her the moment she uttered those words, both surprised and confused to be hearing them. Her husband? She's married-wait she might be talking about her life as a human and that was a thousand years ago...he must be long dead by now. But if he's the reason why she sold her soul then I can only imagine why but I know it can't be anything good. As much as I wanted her to go more in depth I held my tongue, burying down the curiosity that bubbled up inside of me. Instead I held her closer, not that it was possible since there was already no more space in between our bodies. I turned my head slightly and planted a lingering kiss on her forehead, running my fingers up and down her back to try and soothe her. 

……

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep. Just seconds before I felt her relax fully into me she let out a soft sigh, whispering out her gratitude, sleeping finally claiming her. I sat there in silence, gently running my thumb over her cheek, wiping away the last of the tears that had stained her face. I looked down at her sleeping face, chuckling to myself at the thought that flashed in my mind. It was just for a split second but it was enough to raise my heart rate. I exhaled before leaning down towards her and planted a kiss on her cheek. She hummed out in her sleep, tucking her face back into the crook of my neck. I felt a chill run through me at the feeling of her breath on my bare skin. I just sat there as still as I could...until I felt that she deeply asleep and that's when I finally moved. 

I moved slowly, hooking my arm under her knees while keeping her stable by wrapping my other arm around her back. I winced as I picked her up off my lap, feeling a sharp stabbing pain travel up my arm but I ignored it. I walked slowly over to her room, making sure to move her as little as possible. I pushed the door open with my back and made my way over to her bed, setting her down gently. I pulled the covers over her body, brushing a stray strand of hair that fell over her face before taking a step back and another...and another until I had finally left her room.

And as soon as I closed her door I heard a voice behind me that had me jump in surprise.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say that's a love struck look in your eyes, Yun."

I turned around to see Mingi sitting precariously on the back of the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. I stared at him for a moment, a bit dumbstruck, before I set my jaw, clenching my hands at my sides. Without thinking I marched over to him and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, dragging him towards the front door. He started to protest, very loudly at that, so I stopped in my tracks and shoved him into the wall roughly.

"Shut up. I'm so fucking pissed at you right now and if you wake her up it'll be the last thing you do." I snapped, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

Mingi looked at me in surprise, his brows shooting up...that is until something finally clicked, his eyes shifting, "You do realize what I am don't you?"

"And that's why I'm angry." I hissed, pulling him away from the wall and dragged him outside with me.

Once the door was closed I let it all out, "I've known you for years, years and you've been keeping the fact that you're a demon this whole time? And you're the one that told me all about summoning them too! Just what the fuck has been going through your mind?! Am I a joke to you! I thought you were my best friend!"

"I am your best friend! Out of the fucking circle that you call friends I'm the only one that actually sees you as one!" He shouted right back, pushing at my chest none too gently, "And I never thought you'd actually be idiotic enough to do it! I mean seriously, who summons a demon just because they're fucking lonely? How pathetic can…"

He trailed off, unable to continue as he saw the look on my face. I tried not to let his words cut as deep as they did but I was never really the type that was good at hiding how they felt. I averted my gaze, staring past him at the wall, trying to recollect myself after that blow but I refused to stay silent.

"And I don't regret it, not one bit." I said resolutely, meeting his gaze once more, "You can call me all the shit you want but I won't ever regret my choice."

He scoffed, half in disbelief and half in annoyance, "I can't believe my ears. You're willing to spend a thousand years in hell for the chance to be with her for her last eight months aren't you?"

I didn't have to say anything because he knew my answer. He let out a dry humorless chuckle, running his hands through his hair as he tried to recollect himself.

"She's...more than willing to take on those extra years for you Yunho...yet you continue to-"

"How the hell do you expect me to let her shoulder my burdens when she's already got so much shit weighing her down?!" I shouted-no, cried out, cutting him off, "She's the reincarnation of Wrath for fucks sake! Lucifer has been after her for God knows how long and if she goes on for another thousand years in Hell...she'll break...fuck, she's already on the brink of breaking and I have no idea how to fucking fix her if she does!"

"How--how do you know about Wrath?" He asked, his face pale as he looked at me wide eyed.

I smiled faintly, a downhearted look in my eyes, "I may look oblivious but I'm not. The puzzle pieces weren't that hard to put together after everything I heard tonight," I cast my gaze down to the floor, clenching my hands into fists at my sides for the second time in the span of five minutes, "I'm not going to let her subjugate herself to the devil's whims just because I made some stupid deal. She doesn't have to tell me for me to know he's been trying to control her since the moment she became a demon and now we know why. She's too valuable to be left alone. So I'm going to make sure she doesn't add on any more years to her own suffering. I made the deal and I will deal with the consequences."

"You choose the worst possible people to fall in love with…" He sighed out, a resigned smile tugging on his lips, "I guess Y/N isn't so bad once you get past those sharp edges of hers...she's actually pretty reliable. A terrible friend though."

I let out a breathy laugh but soon the look on my face turned into one of pain, thinking back to her sobbing in my arms, "There's not much I can do for her...but I can at least do this. I want to make things easier for her if only by a little…"

Mingi stayed silent for a moment, his eyes searching my face for good knows what until he finally spoke, "These last eight month will be tough...he'll be more aggressive with his tactics to get her before she slips through his fingers. He might even use you to finally get her to join him."

"She won't be swayed that easily. It's not like she'd actually-"

"She's willing to spend another thousand years down there for you, she fought off Pride for you, she was ready to risk her life against Lucifer...all for you. Don't think she won't drop everything for you. It might not look it but she's actually grown quite fond of you. She's never protected anything as fiercely as I've seen her protect you, at least not in the centuries that I've known her. Believe me when I tell you if she has her back against the wall and she's forced to choose between saving your life or living as the new Wrath...it'll be the easiest decision she's ever made." Mingi cut me off, speaking with so much certainty that I was taken aback by how serious he had suddenly gotten, "So I suggest you brace yourself for these months to come...because they'll be anything but easy."

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Tags : @chanyeolol @j-oneracha @boredmay21