#these gifs are so painfully deep fried

[princemick]

Spring Bonny in Five Nights at Freddy's (2023)

[courtingchaos]

I’ve been thinking about eddie who’s in the early pre relationship stages with you. but in his mind he’s married to you he’s been pining after you for so long. he doesn’t want to scare you though so he’s pumping the breaks and trying to take things slow.

you’re spending the night at his and he’s managed to keep enough distance from you that he deems respectful in his courtship of you. but when he wakes it’s to your hand high on his thigh, and you’re out for the count. and he’s hard as a rock and needs to move you before you wake up and see what state he’s in.

not wanting to wake you and alert you to his issue he thinks on his feet and decides he has to become soft asap, then he can move you. then if you wake up it’s not going to be to him feeling like a complete pervert.

so he’s reciting his favourite passages from all of the books he’s read.

only it’s not doing much. the pretty girl in his bed is winning this round.

he starts reciting them backwards to increase the difficulty and hopefully distract the ache away. but in his ingenuity to up the anti he’s inadvertently made it so tough that he’s now whisper shouting the words out loud. waking you. eddie still hard as a rock reciting poetry in a wicked order that makes no sense to man nor beast, is stopped abruptly in his tracks, gasping at the feel of your palm squeezing the meat of his inner thigh. Mortified and yet. Still painfully erect with no hope of going down anytime soon

sorry to vomit this at you but it seemed like fate that you’d asked for a request (this is far too long and detailed I’m sorry) and I was thinking about this at the same time

1. Don’t apologize, you’ve struck gold. You have not dug too greedily nor too deep.

2. You’ve written this really well so I could just post this with a bunch of reactions under it but, if you’ll allow me to expand upon this.

Picture this with me okay? He’s reciting Jabberwocky to himself. It’s a nonsense poem. He had an English teacher once give out a project for them to learn and recite a poem and of course he chose this. It has fun words in it like vorpal and borogoves. It’s become one of his bits actually when he’s trying to command a room.

“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:”

Everyone will sigh. Jeff and Gareth and Frank will drop their heads onto their desks or over the backs of their chairs in long groans. Dustin still thinks it’s fun, he hasn’t gotten tired of it yet, and Mike likes it he just won’t admit it. Eddie loves it though, likes the way slithy toves slides off his tongue when he puts on that creaking voice he uses for warlocks durning games.

Now though he mumbles it to himself in the dark, his ludicrous attempt at bringing down his mood. Something had woken him at the witching hour, 3:07 shining a bright green from across his room. He wasn’t cold, his window shut against the chill earlier when you’d come over. He wasn’t overheated, quite content with you softly cuddled up next to him. No itch or ill folded sheet causing him discomfort. He had seven solid minutes of waking, a few he spared to revel in the heat of you lying next to him. To feel your shoulder lying on his as you pressed your face into his pillow. Your knee bent up and almost over his own and your hand planted firmly on his thigh.

Oh. That.

Those fingers he liked to twirl around his own and lick salt off of when you were done with your fries? Those fingers were under the hem of his boxers and a very much pressing into the meat of his thigh. You don’t move except to breathe but all he can focus on is that hand literal inches from his dick. The dick he’d kept in check for weeks now in the hopes he wouldn’t chase you away with the absolute need he felt. Kind of like right now where it lays heavy and hot against his thigh just like your hand.

So Jabberwocky it is.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

But in the dark with a hard on, slithy toves makes him chuckle. Almost full on giggle and he slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet. Slithy toves sounds like a euphemism for pussy and he can’t help the huffs of laughter pushed through his nose. He looks down in the hopes that this has distracted his dick but apparently laughter makes him harder and he files that away to look into at a later date. Borogoves floats through his brain and he immediately thinks about giving your boobs a new nickname and he has to put a foot down for himself.

Next verse.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!”

Bandersnatch has to be a euphemism, there’s no goddamn way, it has the word snatch in it. He rolls his eyes and before he can sigh you shift beside him in your sleep, closer with your nose in his curls on his pillow and that soft hand he’s thought about when his own is too boring in the shower scoots another inch closer to the problem.

Maybe if he whispers it out loud?

“He took his vorpal sword in hand;-”

Absolutely not. Nope. New plan when he feels your sleeping breath across the front of his throat. It ghosts over his adams apple and all he can think about is your lips on his neck last week and how he’d pulled at his hair after you’d left just because it drove him insane.

Maybe if he recited it backwards it would confuse him enough all the blood would need to race back up into his brain.

“Outgrabe…raths…the-no…mome the and…” He’s squinting hard in the dark, reading invisible words on the ceiling in this new attempt to circumvent disaster.

“Borogoves…ha. Damn it. Borogoves…the were…mimsy all.” A headache is all this is giving him but for a moment he’s forgotten your hand and where it was. He’s searching the next line in his head and trying to jumble it so it isn’t so halting in the early morning quiet.

“Wabe the in gimble and gyer did!” He almost claps his hands when he makes it through without pause but he stops himself for fear of waking you up. Instead he spends 20 minutes working his way backwards through his poem, whispering to the night about the Jabberwock.

O frabjous day indeed when he realizes his dick is half soft now, not such a nuisance and a terror after he’s distracted himself. He thinks about waking you gently, a hand brushing your hair away from your face or running lightly over your leg but then you move. You move of your own accord and hook your leg over his. Kneecap bumping your hand higher and if he breathed wrong right this second you’d be brushing fingertips over his balls.

“And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,”

He mutters without whisper. It’s not full volume speaking but he really doesn’t want you to wake up and find him hard and awake with your hand shoved up his shorts. As much as he would really love to feel your hands on him like that he’s been trying his best to be gentlemanly. Only necking on your timetable when you steal him away to a quiet corner. A little over the pants stuff, heavy petting but you’ve never pushed it and it won’t make you uncomfortable, no matter what his dick wants him to do.

“Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!”

Eddie sighs. “Jesus Christ.”

“Hm?” You hum at him. A high note in the back of your throat that has him whipping his head to see you stirring. Adjusting to your side and dra-a-agging that hand. He doesn’t know what to do as you come around and blink up at him in the dark. He can see the edges of your expression from the light filtering in from outside, smooth brow and faint smile until it isn’t.

“Di’ yousay sumthin’?” Slurred against his shoulder where your mouth is pressed.

“Uh, kind of.”

“You okay?” You press up against him, your pelvis into his hip and he’s about to be caught. There’s no way you aren’t going to notice the outline in his boxers or the way he’s gotta be sweating gallons just in nerves.

“I…yeah?”

“What’s the ma-” You shift to prop yourself up so you can sleepily inspect him and he wants to subsequently die and sigh happily when your hand meets trouble. “Oh.”

Oh. Oh? Oh yeah, no big deal, it’s just his dick showing up to ruin the party like the world’s worst frat guy. “Look, I was trying to make it go away and I-“

“Why?” Having just woken up your voice is soft in a deep way. Scratchy from dry air but it fits the mussed hair and the rucked up t-shirt you have on. His gaze falls on the sliver of stomach that you’re showing off between the covers and he’s having a hard time coming up with an answer.

“Why?”

“Is there an echo in here?” You laugh and slide your palm over his stomach that tenses. “Yeah, why.” Your pinky catches the hem of his thin shirt and pulls it up to reveal his own section of underbelly. “We’re alone right?”

“Y-yeah.” It comes out like a hiss though because your nails scratch across that newly revealed skin and right over the trail of hairs below his belly button. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“I know.”

“I just don’t uh, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Your fingers move back and forth over his stomach before you let them dip back down to the waistband of his boxers, fingertip seeking under the elastic ever so slightly. “You’ve been very patient Eddie.” The rings on your hand are body warm but hold a child to them when they glide over skin. “I think we just had a little misunderstanding at first though.” Fingers comb through wiry hairs on their search for their prize. “I’ve been trying to do this since you asked me out, but I thought you wanted to wait.”

“Oh my god, no. I mean yes, because I thought that’s what you wanted but I read into things too much sometimes bec-ause fuck.” He was running his mouth but then you’d grabbed him. Wrapped that dreamy hand around his cock and sighed into his cheek like you were the one experiencing earth shattering euphoria.

“Eddie I’ve wanted to do this for months.” A slow tug to the tip and you do something with your fingers that makes his mouth hang open in a silent plea. Another twist before you run your thumb over his slit and he grabs your wrist.

“This is gonna be over so quick if you keep that up.”

“Well that’s not so bad, I was still a little tired.” Highlights pick up the line of your lips and that sleepy smile that’s all for him. Heavy lashes flutter when he lets you go and shoves his shorts down to give you room to work. “You can get me back when we wake up.”

He throbs in your grasp at the promised idea of getting you back and all that entails. He can’t help himself but think of wet and warm places while your hand moves in languid strokes. Hot puffs of air across his chest where you lay your head to watch and then he’s watching you watching yourself and falling into a vortex of horniness. He wants to weave his fingers into your hair for some reason. Wants to feel the softness between his fingers while you rub velvet skin through your own.

“Eddie?” You pant into his shirt, lips catching and dragging on the cotton.

“Yeah?”

“What were you reciting?”

It almost pulls him out of his pleasure it’s jars him so. Briefly he thinks about lying and saying Shakespeare but you’re already giving him a 3 am handjob so he thinks he might not have to fib. “Jabberwocky.”

“Alice in Wonderland?” Your hand leaves his cock suddenly but he doesn’t get to whine about it before he’s whining about you licking your palm and getting back to work. He nods above you like you could see him but it earns him a chuckle from you and a stray few fingers that tug at his balls.

“God damnit yes.” He does push his hand into your hair then, the other fisting into the sheets beside him. You make a passing remark about reciting it then but he honestly might not even know his own name. The way his legs move restlessly against the bed and his fingers grip into your scalp. The damp slide of your palm over the head of his cock, the twisting motion you keep doing, it’s all rocketing him towards his finish. The burn of it in his belly clouding his senses and making him buck his hips up into your touch. The air of your breath keeps breezing over his overheated skin and your panting laughs are shoving him closer and closer until he’s squeezing his eyes shut and going stiff.

Warm lines splash up his stomach and he knows in a minute or two he’ll feel shame unmatched by man heretofore known but right now he couldn’t care. Soft hands drag him through the aftershocks while you make praiseworthy noises into his chest. You coo at him for a job well done and he can feel the heat rise on his cheeks. Sitting up again to look back at him your drag a finger through the mess he made and when you take three seconds to inspect it he doesn’t expect you to bring it to your lips.

“I-“ He what? What can he say while he watches you suck on your index finger like he does? When a slick grin hooks the corner of your mouth up into something devilish and he has an awakening at almost 4 am.

“How was that, huh? Glad we got that over with?” You drop your cheek to your shoulder to give him a smolder but Eddie needs to taste your lips after you’ve tasted him. It’s a need not a want so he rushes you, pushes you back into the bed and gets his mess everywhere but it doesn’t matter. He kisses you deep until you both have to come up for air and then he’s peppering your neck in them until your giggling is too much.

He uses his shirt to wipe himself off, promising a shower in the morning, and pulls both of you under the covers to conspire in the afterglow.

“Do you think reading that poem is gonna Pavlov you now?”

“How so?”

“I mean,” your laugh cuts into your explanation, “slithy toves kind of sounds like a name for-“

“Pussy! I know!” He laughs with you. “And Bandersnatch!”

[creedslove]

Really random thing to put on your ask but I went to the beach and pretended like joel was there and we were walking together, hand in hand and getting fries and coffee with our dog lmaooo it would even be a sweet headcanon if you want to take this as inspiration hehehhe

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: omg bestie this is too beautiful and sweet, I love it!!

• Joel isn't a beach boy simply because of money and logistics; it's expensive and it's far, since he's always busy with work, he usually took his free time to relax at home and sleep, watch movies or just be lazy

• but he ain't gonna say no if you ask him to because, well... he can never say no to you, and well, he ain't gonna complain if you decide to wear a tiny bikini 😉

• so you and him decide to plan a weekend getaway and head to the beach

• the truck is loaded, you two are carrying a bag with a couple of clothes and you hit the road

• Joel is more excited about it than he thought he would be; just by seeing how happy you are and how good the weather is, is enough to make him see this trip was worthy

• and it might have had to do with the road blowjob you gave him when the road was calm and Joel could focus on it and also on you taking his cock deep into your throat

• so when you two got to the beach, the first thing you decided to do was to apply some sunblock on each other, just to make sure you wouldn't have any unpleasant surprises

• and then spend the rest of the day enjoying each other's company, the weather and the beautiful place

• Joel turns into a child around water; he loves swimming pools, lakes and the ocean and he will probably spend the whole time in it; you can either join him or sunbathe, it doesn't matter, he will be playing and swimming in the ocean and that's painfully adorable

• you would also walk around the beach holding hands, he would love to see you so happy

• ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh joel in sunglasses 😎🫦

• buying treats to eat by the beach and having a small picnic

• watching the sunset on the beach and then having sex on it ;)

____

[genericpuff]

Do you have any recommendations for comics on tapas? I'm rather new to the app so I wondered if you had any. Sorry if someone already asked!

Oh, so many! Tapas was one of my OG homes waaay back in the day, when I was still getting into drawing comics (back then it was gag-a-days). I spent a lot of time reading comics on there and it was one of my first introductions to comic platforms in general (next to SmackJeeves, RIP).

Rock and Riot - 1950's LGBTQ+ gangster teenagers getting into shenanigans and turf wars. Very cute and fun and adorable <3

Monster Pop! - Monster girls who are besties! This one has some real gorgeous art especially if you like the original vibes of S1 LO, lots of bright beautiful colors and lineless shapes. The creator of this comic, mayakern, now develops comfortable and eco-friendly skirts with her wife and pals for plus-sized folks! (they have pockets!)

A BETTER PLACE - Young girl Hannah and her little brother Theo find something cool in the woods. Children becoming gods. This was one of those comics that had some REALLY cool "you had to be there" time travel elements that aren't quite as immersive in hindsight (I was one of those people who were there and DAMN it was awesome), but it's still absolutely worth the read and it operates as a sort of prequel to another one of Harry Bogosian's comics on the platform.

Fail by Error - This comic is long since done with, its creator having moved on to bigger things, but at one point in time, this was the titan series on Tapas, before the platform became predominantly BL's and isekais. Fail by Error was truly one of the best of the best of Tapas-hosted comics from its golden era of comedy comics. Also the creator made art for me once and I still have it! <3

(my babieees <3)

RandoWis - funny gag strip is funny ! He also draws an MMO-themed comic that - coincidentally - when I double checked, looks like it stopped updating in 2021 until two days ago. So yeah, good time to check that one out too!

Undying Happiness - Naomi takes a chance on love and decides to meet up with a guy she met online. He turns out to not look like the guy in the photos in the most hilariously absurd way.

Deep Fried Pudge - Okay, this is a really weird inclusion because like... this comic isn't good. This comic is painfully bad. Like, "roll your eyes into the back of your skull at your dad's stupid jokes" bad. This comic has not stopped updating daily since 2012. It literally just had its 11 year anniversary. Every update is just a single panel either making some pun or just stating very innocent, inoffensive opinions. There are four thousand of these things. And every single one is done with the same art style and joke structure as before, the comics from today look and feel like a 7 year old made them the exact same way they did 10 years ago, as if trapped in a hellish time capsule of its own design, and I love it, I freaking love it. Its existence quite literally defies human nature. Reading it and attempting to comprehend why it exists is like staring into the eyes of some Eldritch god that chose peace over chaos. Pudge will outlive all of us. Pudge will outlive the universe. All hail Pudge.

[lilyevanstan1325]

❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Prologue

It's dark.

Too dark.

And it's dangerous.

Too dangerous.

But I can't stop.

I just can't.

The darkness surrounds me, enveloping everything.

Like a black cloak made of whispers and fears.

I run as hard as I can, pushing my legs with all the strength I have in my body.

I feel the muscles contracting painfully, I feel my chest tightening in a painful vice.

My lungs burn.

Yet with every step I feel more and more free.

Free.

What a beautiful thing.

Beautiful but scary.

But also exciting.

I still can't believe I did it.

That I really did it.

I refocus my attention on the present.

I try to avoid the trees that pass by me, blurry and threatening.

A few strands of hair dance in front of my eyes, their trying hardest to distinguish what they see.

The only light illuminating this horrible place comes from the moon, partially hidden tonight by some clouds.

In the air in addition to my labored and agitated breathing, there are the dry leaves crushed with force by my boots and the agitated beating of my heart.

Or maybe that's just in my ears?

Yet it seems so strong to me that I fear it could be heard even miles away.

Then a moan, like a wheeze, catches my attention but only for a moment.

I can't stop now.

I veer my run slightly to the left hoping to go in the opposite direction of the sound, I wouldn't be able to deal with a fucking biter right now.

I just have to keep going.

I have to move.

Put as much distance as possible between me and that godforsaken place.

I can't let him find me.

I have to get as far away as possible before he notices that I'm gone.

Sweat drips heavily from my forehead, making my eyes burn.

The same sweat makes my clothes stick to my body as if they were a second skin.

The fabric of the jeans burns the flesh where my thighs rub, it feels like the skin is fusing with it but I can't stop.

I cannot.

As I fight against my own body, preventing it from giving up, my run comes to an abrupt stop.

Violently.

I feel my head being yanked back, the sudden movement causing me to fall onto my back.

The impact with the hard ground makes the air escape from my lungs with such violence that it almost makes me puke.

The backpack sinks into my skin.

I can feel the outline of each contained object digging small but painful furrows into my skin.

But I don't scream.

One thing I learned is that during an apocalypse silence could mean survival.

I hold back the pain by biting my tongue.

I can't attract any more of those disgusting biters.

Maybe, if I'm lucky enough, I can kill only one of them at the moment.

Without wasting any further time I try to retrieve my father's advice from the recesses of my mind.

“If you end up on the ground my little girl, roll over and grab the first object you find.Get back on your feet and fight.Never turn your back on your enemy”

His big dark eyes come back in my mind.

His sweet smile.

The father that he was before this damn apocalypse fried everyone's brains.

Alive and dead.

Taking a deep breath I roll onto my right side and grab my beloved knife from my thigh I get back to my feet, hesitant but confident.

I can do it.

And as I get into position, spreading my legs a little and bending my knees, a detail catches completely my attention.

The silence.

It's too quiet.

No inhuman sounds.

Just my labored breathing and the rustling of the leaves.

I look around confused but without abandoning my defensive position.

With slow and measured breaths I begin to spin around.

Taking an overview of everything around me.

My brain slowly scans and catalogs everything around me, deciding what is a danger and what is not.

Trees.

Trees.

And more trees.

Around me only an expanse of damn trees.

What the fuck?

I slowly straighten up without ever letting go of my knife.

I lift my free hand and carefully touch the back of my head, right where I felt I was grabbed.

The skin burns and is painful but there is no blood.

This is a good sign.

Even more confused, I take the backpack off my shoulders, in my movement a pang of pain radiates from my side making me hiss.

I've always hated running, I'm not good at it.

Positioning my backpack on the trunk of a fallen tree that is just in front of me, I put the knife back in a safe place.

I open it and look inside.

The flashlight slips through my sweaty fingers.

I sigh trying to calm my nerves and dry my hands by rubbing them on my jeans full of dirt from my recent fall.

Once done with a firm grip I grab the flashlight again and turn it on.

I look around very slowly and I notice something protruding from a tree behind me.

Approaching with caution and trying to keep my step as light and silent as possible, I understand what stopped my run.

A damn branch.

A damned branch that now exposes a lock of my hair as if it were a trophy.

Long black strands of hair that move elegantly swinging in the wind.

I sigh and turn off the flashlight.

I have to save my batteries and above all I don't want to be seen.

I check my limited supplies and another sigh escapes my control.

I won't get very far with just two bottles of water, a dozen granola bars and some clothes.

I should have stolen more things before embarking myself in this total madness.

I left food, water, protection...but I really couldn't live like that anymore.

Living with a man I thought I knew.

I really thought that he loved me more than anything in the world.

For my part, I will love him forever, how could I not...

A knot tightens in my throat but it's not remorse.

Not even fear.

It's just the sadness of having believed so much, almost blindly, in a person who at least lost his mind.

This new world has changed everyone, including me.

But deep down I'm still me.

I have my principles, principles that not even a damned apocalypse can erase.

I know that nowadays only the fittest survive, I'm not stupid.

Kill so as not to be killed.

But I don't want to believe that this is all that remains of humanity.

I believe there is more.

There must be more.

Otherwise why do we live?

What are we fighting for then?

Where has the love gone?

The kindness?

My mother always told me "Be kind to the world and it will be kind to you"

A sad smile graze my lips while the lump in my throat extends down into my stomach at the thought of my mother.

I'm almost happy that she didn't live enough to see the disastrous end of our wonderful family.

And the usual thought comes back to my mind showing off, almost mocking me.

If she were alive, would dad have met the same fate?

But unfortunately I will never have the answer for this question.

I forcefully fight back the tears, I can't cry.

Not here.

Not now.

Swallowing a small sip of water I decided to get back on the road.

This time without running.

The moon is still high in the sky, which means that it will be at least another three or four hours before anyone notices that I'm gone.

I look around trying to reorganize my ideas and understand how to move.

The smartest move would be to head south, towards Atlanta.

Find out if it is really a safe place, if there is still hope for all of this.

Anxiety invades my mind again.

It's a long journey, I know...but it could be my only possibility.

It could be, in fact, the only way of salvation I have.

I studied some maps and the only thing I came up with was that it is about 620 miles and at most, that is, with the right amount of food, water and rest, I could travel 40 miles a day.

Which translated into hours would be around 10 hours.

This means that within 15 to 20 days I could arrive in Atlanta.

I laugh at myself, I'm really overestimating myself.

Because obviously there is the reality of the facts...I don't have enough supplies and enough strength to do this.

I only had run for, how long?

Five miles?

And I already feel like I'm dying.

For a moment, just for a moment, the thought of going back crosses my mind.

The thought of coming back to him...but it's only for a moment.

I shake my head trying to clear it of any negative thoughts.

I put my backpack back on my shoulder, fix my ponytail and take some big deep breaths.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

No, I can't go back and I don't want to.

There must be something else.

There must be something else for me out there.

Maybe one day I'll find someone, something.

Maybe I'll find some people I can call family.

Maybe I'll find a place to call home.

Or maybe I'll never make it to Atlanta.

Maybe I'll never know if there's anything good out there.

But I'm sure of one thing...I'll die trying.

Please comment, share and rate ❤️

🔥 Masterlist 🔥

[siremasterlawrence]

Destined To Be Part 2

It is a beautifully white light with sliver moon light glow shines down on me through the roof top glass tier of the car so white it irks me as he returns to my side and I can see him. In the midst of the darkness with deep fried fries, burgers and drinks being held in his hands as he takes the keys from his mouth to open the door we make contact as he fell so in love with me and my desires.I am unlocking it from the front seat for him swinging door to the side as he prepares for me entering the car door as he places the food in my hands as j engulf a few fries in to my mouth. He ignores me for sure taking my hands in his as he freaks a bit taking a deep breath he leans in kissing me slowly with a few moments . Our lips press connecting with each other and his body lays on mine in the middle of the woods, he begins to dig his nose in to my shirt.He is inhaling deep breaths as my scent forces his senses to overreact in to a spiral situations forcing to me take a second look at me and know I am deadly serious about his new life. Sitting in silence he has no idea the game we are playing because he does not know that I have already one for the night guiding him to side and I use my hand to grab on to his neck holding it tightly and firmly facing me. He is so in love with me practically attempts to grope me but I slam his head painfully. On the wheel as he loses it he is getting to start the cars ignition as he droves off on to the street and we went to his place in a very rushing moment of time as we sped entire seconds of our lives wrapped up in the fantasy of it all.He can no longer resist me or my charms to be with me opening my door to let me out he took my hand holding tightly as we walk in and I begin to assess his home as if I have purchased it. In away I have purchased it by taking hold of him he has gifted me all he has and owns therefore it is mine likehis life and body is for the taking as I wish for it.

“Are you comfy Master?”

“I am my dear slave Joel!”

“Do we have to keep Wilson?”

“He is my property”

“But sir”

“Why do you fight me?”

“Shut the fuck up”

“You and Wilson belong to me”

“Get over it”

“Why don’t you get in to a pair of sweat pants?”

“No need for a shirt”

“Return back here and hold me”

“As you wish “

“Master! Do you love me?”

“Of course I do”

“What stupid thing to ask”

“Sorry sir”

“May I hug you now?”

“Obviously boi”

“I’ve been waiting for this”

“I want you “

“God! You are perfection”

“You are amazing “

“No Master! You are everything “

“I want to sweep you off your feet”

“Treat you like a king”

“Worship you”

“Show you a good time “

“Make you swoon”

“You are my universe “

The end

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [4]

(GIF credit: @teamfreewill-imagine)

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 6,107

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you. (Each chapter can be read as a stand-alone.)

Chapter Summary: You offer yourself as bait for a shapeshifter hunt. Things do not go as planned.

Warnings: canon level violence, language, idiots in love, mutual pining, huffy!sam, protective!sam, slight angst?, slow burn, fluff

A/N: i am SO sorry for the wait (story of my life) but to make up for it, look, 6k words! (yeah i’m sorry about that too, i don’t know what happened there.) written for @tvdspngirl314‘s birthday writing event with the prompt “You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone?” which is bolded in the fic. this also fills a square for @spnfluffbingo​!

Square Filled: Rescue Mission

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The fourth time was all you. Dean barely had to lift a finger. The result, however, was far more traumatic than he had planned and rather emphatically revealed the magnitude of his brother’s feelings toward you.

Much like the previous attempts, there was a case: a shapeshifter going after women who conveniently happened to fit your description. The strategy was obvious, and you’d leaped at the opportunity to both make yourself useful and hopefully take the place of what would have otherwise been the next innocent civilian victim. But of course, Sam resisted at first.

“No. Absolutely not! We don’t know enough about this guy for you to just jump into his waiting arms, Y/N!” The fervent indignation in his tone and body language was palpable. Sam was rarely one to raise his voice or sport much of a temper at all really, but lately these heated outbursts seemed to be occurring more frequently, and frankly you were getting sick of it. The false hope they momentarily granted you through the notion that perhaps he cared about you as more than a friend was one thing. What’s more, the way his voice lowered half an octave combined with the sight of his flared nostrils, puffed chest, and straining jaw always seemed to have a sideways effect on you, in that it was impossible to keep your attention on his words alone. But boy did you try.

“Sam, how many times do we have to go through this? I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. And your wrist is still healing so it’s not like you can call the shots on this one anyway. Besides, I’m not going in alone. You and Dean will be there for backup the whole time, right?”

“’Course we will, eh Sammy?” In a strange turn of events, Dean often appeared to be the one with a more jovial outlook recently.

Sam merely nodded and continued his heavy breathing. He glared down at his bandaged left wrist, the result of skirmish with a couple of wraiths, as if it were the root of all his problems. Then he looked up and through densely drawn brows, those magnetizing multicolored eyes pierced yours, his countenance bearing a charged and sullen expression of pensive exasperation as his jaw visibly tightened. You swallowed and could not for the life of you find the will to look away.

“So it’s settled then,” Dean proclaimed jubilantly, “Unless… you’ve got another reason you don’t want Y/N playing bait, hmm Sam? Maybe something you wanna share with the class? Or, you know, I could leave…”

“Dean, stop it. You’re not helping,” you quickly admonished before steadying your gaze back on the taller Winchester, “Look, Sam, have I ever let you down?”

“No. Never.”

“And do you still trust me?”

“Of course,” he responded immediately in a ‘what-kind-of-a-question-is-that’ tone, at which you simply raised your eyebrow to send him a reciprocating ‘then-what’s-the-problem?’ look.

“OK fine,” Sam huffed out a big breath, “But you’re not taking any risks! Anything seems off at all, just… promise me you’ll wait for me and Dean and keep us in the loop?”

His pleading eyes were so earnest and you’d truly never been able to say no to the giant puppy before, so you offered him a little smile and said, “Cross my heart.”

Sighing, Sam rubbed his face, looking lost in thought for a moment until he spoke up again, much more reserved and hesitant this time, “Do you still have that uh… ring from… that time?” Dean muffled a snort at his brother’s expense but you both ignored him, completely accustomed to his nonsensical teasing by now.

“Uh yeah, I- I think so.” The uncertainty in your voice was a lie. Of course you still had the ring you’d once used to pretend to be married to Sam Winchester. You may or may not have tucked it away in a special place for safekeeping.

“Good,” Sam nodded curtly, “I want you to wear it. It’s silver. I’ll wear mine too and Dean already has his. That’s how we’ll know that we’re still… ourselves.”

“OK, yeah that’s a good idea,” you agreed, trying your hardest not to linger on the memories.

“Well look at you two! Getting hitched again so soon-“

“Shut up, Dean,” you and Sam cut him off together.

When the meeting was adjourned and you were about to part ways to prepare for the upcoming hunt, something inside you forced you to call out his name, “Oh and Sam!” He turned around at once, questioning gaze somewhat urgently searching yours for a sign of what might come next. You stuttered though, feeling suddenly self conscious, so the next words you uttered were not much louder than a whisper, “Be careful with your wrist.”

Sam smiled, his dimples making your fingers twitch with the need to caress them. “I’ll be fine. You just look out for yourself. Remember, we’ll be right behind you.”

Somehow you both didn’t hear the groan Dean emitted as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and prayed to whoever was listening, ‘Good lord, someone give me the strength to survive another day with these imbeciles.’

There was only one diner in the tiny Pennsylvanian town, and seeing as you were starving by the time you got there, the three of you were forced to make do with soggy fries and questionable milkshakes. As you ate, you went through your game plan once more, which essentially consisted of waiting until nightfall to visit the bar from where the previous girls had gone missing, while Sam and Dean shadowed you covertly.

Before you left, you took a quick trip to the loo and when you returned, Sam was stood outside alone, a broad smile upon his face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked as you began to walk out the diner, expecting to find the older brother waiting impatiently in the parking lot by his precious car, but the Impala was gone.

“He went back to the motel, said he had something to take care of and that we should go scope the place out first.”

“But I thought we agreed to-“

“Yeah, well change of plans, you know how it is,” Sam replied casually with a shrug.

Little red flags started fluttering in your head, urging your eyes downward to locate the silver band on his finger. You frowned when you found it there untouched on his right hand; Sam almost never interrupted you, not even when he was absorbed in the foulest of moods.  

Apparently sensing your hesitation, he added, “I mean, he made a good point. Maybe if you familiarize yourself with the surroundings first, you’ll be able to take the guy out faster.”

Sam was still smiling at you, but it felt all wrong. You couldn’t explain it, but there was something missing from his rainbow eyes. The colors were all there, but they lacked luster and warmth, a delicate twinkle that you’d learned to associate with the beautiful, heroic yet self-doubting giant of a man. Never had you seen that breathtaking magic replicated elsewhere, nor had you ever seen Sam without it, which was why you were almost completely certain that the man before you was not the real Sam Winchester.

But weaving within you was a thread of doubt, insisting that you couldn’t just pull a gun on your best friend because of something as trivial as… a feeling? No, you needed to test your theory. And so, bracing yourself with a deep breath, you slowly reached out your silver-equipped hand to do something you’d grown accustomed to resentfully abstaining from: touching Sam’s bare skin. You aimed for the large target of his hand, deeming it the most inconspicuous of places (given that he was wearing his hunters’ uniform and the only other visible option would’ve been his face or neck), but Sam was faster. Just before you were able to graze his skin with your ring, he caught your wrist in his much bigger hand and pulled it away, twisting your arm until it was locked painfully behind you.

“You think you’re smart, huh?” the shifter snarled with a flash of its eyes, moving in real close as he used Sam’s immense size and his own superhuman strength to easily constrain you.

Even so, you stared up at him defiantly, unafraid, “Sam and Dean will be back.”

“That’s the plan.”

Sam’s sneering face and threatening voice were the last things you saw or heard.

You had no way of determining how much time had passed when you unceremoniously came to in what looked and smelled to be an underground sewer. As your senses sharpened and your muddled brain began to size up your current plight, you nearly scoffed at the clichéd style of your captor. Sat on a peeling wooden chair, manila rope bound your wrists together behind your back and tethered your ankles securely to each of the seat’s front legs.

Ignoring the ache in your head, you set about strategically testing the knots and the integrity of the wood. If only you could reach the silver blade in your boot. But your attempts were interrupted by the reappearance of the shifter, whose shoe hit something as he stepped before you. A metallic clang echoed through the confined space as a result and you followed the sound to find your coveted knife on the ground, far beyond your reach.

“Fucking hunters, always think they’re so clever, always one step ahead because it’s their game. Sure, we might be the monsters but you’re the predators! So let’s see how you like being the prey for once.” Shifter Sam’s upper lip curled up in a way that seemed so foreign to you as he leaned forward to rest his hands on either arm of your chair, caging you in.

The malicious glint in his eye left you with no qualms about affronting this being who, for all intents and purposes, appeared identical to the man you’d recently discovered you were in love with. Lifting your chin, you glared up at him brazenly, “If you’re so keen on being the predator then why am I still alive? What are you waiting for?”

“Why your knight in shining armor of course!” he exclaimed, backing up as he stood to his full height and gestured to himself with both hands. “You think it was a coincidence that all those women looked like you?”

The shifter’s narrowed eyes were alight with amusement and a ripple of fear surged through your body. You were in much deeper than you or the boys had anticipated, though years of practice helped you keep your voice steady and bold, “What did you do to them?”

“Oh, I gave them a fairly painless death, don’t you worry. They were just stepping stones on my way to you. See, the Winchesters owe me a girlfriend, so I figured I’d take the closest thing to theirs. But imagine my joyous surprise when I got into this big lug’s head and discovered that he’s in love with you! No, actually it’s more than that. He’s obsessed with you; you never leave his brain! Every other thought and memory is about you... Well, it’s either you or his brother, but oh, it’s gonna kill him to see you die before his eyes. I might’ve been able to replace my dead girlfriend, but I don’t think Sam here will ever come back from losing you.”

Stunned into silence, the stupid influx of misguided hormones pumping through your veins forced you to focus on maintaining a neutral expression as he rattled on.

“And you feel the same way, don’t you? So this really will be a double kill. It’s OK, you can let it all out. I might be a monster but I’m not one to deny the dying their chance for some last words. Besides, you can say it all while looking into the eyes of the man you love.”

“Fuck you,” were the only words you could trust yourself to spit out at him.

‘Sam’ laughed, but it was nothing like the laughs you normally pulled from him. It didn’t radiate like sunshine or replenish your soul with glee. Rather, it was chilling and conniving and despite the mimicry of Sam’s beautiful voice, you immediately decided that you never wanted to hear it again.

“Not feeling too talkative, huh? Or maybe you’d rather wait until he gets here in the flesh to make that anticlimactic confession of love? That’s alright, I can just tell you more about this dumbass’s feelings for you.” The shifter chuckled with delight, as if every word brought him nothing but pure joy. “Man, he loves you so much, it’s insane. I’ve never been inside the skin of someone so in love. And I thought I really loved my ex. Afterall, this whole revenge thing is for her. But I gotta tell ya, I’ve got nothing on Sam Winchester. Did you know he thinks you were made specifically for him? You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone? Cause Sam does. That’s how he feels about you.”

“Why should I believe you?” you challenged, growing tired of the inadvertent response his words were eliciting. Your heart was pounding in your neck, core trembling at the mere possibility of Sam genuinely feeling the way he’d described. But you knew better than to trust a monster, and one who was in pursuit of maximal vengeance no less. Still, those rose-colored thoughts resonated within you, and you stumbled to dismiss them as they bubbled up, one after another like a game of emotional whack-a-mole.

Shifter Sam smirked, “Yeah, you’re a cynical one, aren’t you? You know everything he said in that marriage counseling session was true. You kinda hurt his feelings when you just brushed it all off. Even big brother Dean’s been trying to get him to confess his love for you. You must’ve heard them arguing about it at some point? They weren’t exactly being discreet.”

Choosing not to respond, you simply scowled at him.

“No? Still in denial? Perhaps you need details… You ever notice how he always sits across from you whenever you’re doing research? It’s because he thinks you’re gorgeous when you’re focused, and it gives him an opportunity to admire you without getting caught. And why do you think he lets you call him Sammy, huh? Yeah, he might not let it on but he fucking loves it when you do, makes him feel all tingly inside. And you remember that cop who hit on you? Captain Anderson, was it? Sam wanted to break the guy’s nose just for touching you. Oh and why do you think he asked you to move into the bedroom closest to his? It’s so he can keep track of your nightmares. He likes to keep you close because it makes him feel like he can protect you better when you need it.”

By now, your ‘neutral expression’ must have surely mutated to betray your shock, and you couldn’t have answered if you tried. The shifter didn’t seem to mind either way. In fact, he appeared to be having the time of his life.

“And it’s not all pure thoughts, let me tell you! Oh man, buddy boy here has dreamed up plenty of X-rated scenes with you, ranging from obnoxiously romantic to just plain obscene. You name a position and he’s imagined it, in high-definition detail,” he embellished, tapping an index finger against his temple, “His mind is like a library of pornos starring the two of you, although he’ll never get to live out any of his fantasies, will he? It’s a shame really; some of these are really hot... Ooh, I’ll have to borrow that one,” he said with closed eyes, as if a figment of Sam’s imagination was playing through his head in that very moment, “Maybe my girl and I can re-enact it while we’re still in your skins-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” you finally bellowed in protest.

Sam watched the bathroom door attentively after you’d disappeared through it, unable to contain the upward jerk of his lips when he saw you walking back out of it. Heartwarming relief had become his body’s intrinsic response to seeing you safe and sound.

“You ready?” he questioned when you made it to his side.

“Yeah, I’m good.” God, even the sound of your voice made him happy.

Once you got back to the motel, Dean plopped down onto one of the full-size beds, exhausted from the drive. Within a matter of seconds, snores began to fill the room, and Sam chuckled under his breath as he sat down around a wobbly table with you to continue your research on the shifter’s victims, hoping to find something else that linked them together or a clue as to where they might’ve been taken.

It wasn’t long before you inhaled a revelatory gasp and abruptly clutched Sam’s wrist to show him what you’d found. But your grip was harsh, causing him to hiss in pain and do something he’d never before done: recoil from your touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does it still hurt?” you asked nonchalantly, smiling up at him innocently.

Worse than the pain in his fractured wrist was what felt like sirens blaring in his head. You were always hyper-cognizant of his injuries and exceedingly careful around them, sometimes even more so than himself. Sam looked you over subtly, eyes landing on the silver ring still upon your finger. Perhaps his mind had been playing tricks on him and all that tender attention he thought you’d shown him was simply a mirage of his own wishful thinking?

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.” Sam sent you a tight smile, to which you responded with a dazzling one of your own. It was beautiful but something about it felt off. In the past, you apologized profusely if ever you found yourself the accidental cause of his discomfort, no matter how indirect or insignificant the case, but right now there wasn’t a single speck of concern in your eyes. Indeed, the more he looked into them, the more he struggled to recognize the person staring back at him.

In a flash, Sam had you up against the wall, a silver blade held against your neck. He looked down to see the metal sizzling there, burning your flesh, and cursed himself for failing to notice sooner.

The noise woke Dean from his slumber and what he saw when he opened his eyes was equal parts shocking and amusing. “Whoa! At least wait till I’m out of the room! And isn’t that a little kinky for your first time?”

“Dean, it’s not her. She’s not Y/N,” Sam grit out, “She’s wearing the ring but she’s not Y/N.”

His brother’s brows knit together as he rubbed the sleep from his emerald greens. “Wha- How did you know?”

“She was acting… weird.”

Dean scrambled off the bed, making a quick call on his phone to ensure you really were missing. He paled when a robotic voice over the line told him the number he was trying to reach was no longer in service.

It was then the shifter decided to speak up, “You know, the real Y/N would have liked this, you pressing her up against a wall?” she murmured suggestively.

“Shut up. Where is she?!” Sam slammed her body against the flimsy motel wall once more and dug the knife in a little deeper. In his panic-stricken state, he barely registered her remark, being driven entirely by a one-track mind at present.

Shifter Y/N grimaced slightly, glancing down at the knife, “Maybe if you stop cutting into me with that, I might consider telling you.”

“How did you get the ring?”

“Oh, this little thing? You like it? It’s imitation silver, but otherwise nearly identical to the one on the real Y/N’s finger. You see, we’ve been following you for a while now.”

“Who’s we? Where did you take Y/N?!” he demanded incessantly.

“My boyfriend’s got her, but don’t worry, he looks just like you so I’m sure she’ll find her accommodations to her liking,” she retorted with a smirk.

Sam’s heart lunged in his chest and his mind began whirring with endless possibilities of escalating dread. Had you been deceived and captured by a shifter pretending to be him? Were you being hurt or tortured by someone who looked exactly like him? How would you ever be able to look at him the same way again? Of course, you’d know it wasn’t Sam but the damage would still be done. You would forever remember his face as that of someone who once hurt you, who tried to kill you. That is, if Sam could make it to you in time.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to see her one last time. That’s actually why I’m here, to take you to her when the time is right,” the shifter added casually.

“I will end your miserable fucking life! Tell me where she is right now!” Sam roared before pressing the blade further into her neck, the veins in his forearms ready to burst through his skin.

“Hey, hey! Sammy, ease up! We need her alive, alright?” Dean bounded over to his brother and after quite the struggle, managed to assuage him enough to release his vice grip and replace it with silver chains that shackled her to a chair.

“Sam, maybe we should also be asking ‘why’,” Dean mused as he fastened the end of a chain against one of the beds.

With a shake of his head, Sam avowed through grinding teeth, “I don’t fucking care. I have to get to her.”

“And what if it’s a trap?”

“Then I’ll find her myself.”

Dean scoffed in disbelief as he turned to his usually wise and level-headed little brother, “Oh yeah, and how’re you gonna do that? Where would you even start?”

“I don’t know!” Sam exclaimed in exasperation. Then, after a pause of desperate deliberation alleged, “Shifters like to make their lairs in sewers, right?”

Taking a step closer, Dean maintained his challenging tone, “So what are you gonna do, just wade through the entire town’s shit and piss until you find her?!”

“If that's what it takes, then yes!” Sam looked like he was about to eat his brother alive.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” shifter Y/N interfered from her seated position before them, raising her chin to meet Sam’s eyes, “Don’t worry, handsome, I can tell you she feels the same way. But unfortunately, by the time you get to her, I don’t think she’ll be able to tell you herself. In fact, you’ll probably hardly recognize her anymore… so you might want to keep me around, if only as a souvenir of your soon-to-be-dead girlfriend.”

Sam couldn’t contain himself anymore. Despite looking like a carbon copy of you, the evil gleam in the shifter’s eyes made her easily differentiable, and so Sam held back nothing when he lunged across the distance, knife in hand ready to do some real damage. However, Dean pounced with him, having predicted his brother’s violent eruption and felt his shaking wrath, knowing a little too well just how rash he could be when it came to you. Still, it took all of Dean’s strength to pull Sam back, sending him a stern but knowing look once he did.

“Sam, stop!” His low voice rumbled as he went into authoritative big brother mode, “Listen to me, you wanna save Y/N? Well so do I, but this is not how we do it! Now I know it’s hard, but I need you to calm down, alright?”

Sam’s massive chest was practically at his chin as he heaved ginormous breaths. Though his body language was still offensive, his hazel eyes were filled with fear and devastation when they looked toward his brother, “Dean, if I don't get to her in time, I’ll...” Clenching his jaw, Sam made a fruitless attempt to calm his tremoring frame and quell his tumultuous emotions. What would he do? Sam wasn’t even sure himself. All he knew was that every cell in his being was currently screaming at him to get to you, to make sure you were safe and soothe away any of your pain. There was nothing he wouldn’t give in that moment to simply know you were alright and to hold you in his arms. He knew you could look after yourself, but for once he had a terrifying feeling that even you were in over your head, that you might actually need him this time, and he’d be fucking damned if he let you down.

“Woah! Hey, hey! Sammy, look at me! That ain’t gonna happen, alright? We’re gonna find Y/N and we’re gonna bring her home in one piece, you hear me? We’re the Winchesters, man! We’ve faced the end of the world. What’s a couple of shifters got on us?”

‘You,’ Sam thought, ‘They’ve got you.’ But he appreciated Dean’s pep talk nonetheless and nodded in response as a fresh surge of determination swelled within him.

“Alright then,” Dean nodded as well, “Why don’t you let me give her a go?”

As Dean’s silver blade cut into the detained shapeshifter, Sam flinched with every moan and howl of agony. He knew it wasn’t you, but she still had your voice and your perfect face. Yet not a second was wasted on the feeling of relief when they finally managed to get a location out of her. Sam nearly tripped over himself in his haste as he snatched the Impala’s keys and his gun before flying out of the room with a jumbled order for Dean to stay with the monster.

“Well, if you’re not gonna admit your feelings for the giant lumberjack, I guess you’re right. Maybe I should stop yapping and get to prettying you up for that first and last date of yours, huh?” Shifter Sam prodded your cheek with a switchblade.

You said nothing. At this point, you had a sneaking suspicion that physical pain might be more bearable than the psychological torment your imprisoner had been so keen on. It was one thing for you to torture yourself by entertaining the slim possibility that Sam might return your feelings for him, but to hear such outrageous perceptions from a creature who could read the inside of his mind like a paperback novel, and conveyed with such tantalizing conviction… well, it just about broke you.

And knowing that the shifter was yearning to coax a confession out of you simply to cause Sam as much anguish as possible made you more resolute about your refusal to submit, beyond the need to protect your own sanity.

One shiner and a slash to the thigh later, however, you heard a loud clash. Shifter Sam paused his handiwork and began to turn around, “Could your knight be here ahead of schedule?”

‘Dammit,’ you thought. The Winchesters were usually capable of being stealthy when necessary but in case it really was the sound of them making a blunder or encountering some other form of resistance, you figured you’d buy them a distraction.

“Wait, wait! You’re right, OK? Maybe I do feel something for Sam, but even if I told him, I think you’re forgetting… This is Sam fucking Winchester we’re talking about here. He’s been tortured by the devil himself. You really think killing me is going do much damage?”

Your abductor had now given you his full attention, leering at you with a sly smile, so you continued, “Besides, you picked a fight with the Winchesters; don't expect to live to see tomorrow.”

Right on cue, a hulking blur of hair and plaid came barreling in, growling ferally as he grabbed the shifter and threw more than one brutal punch against what appeared to be his own face. The silver ring on Sam’s hand made contact with skin and his shifter counterpart groaned in pain.

You nearly forgot about your ceaseless work of untying the rope that cuffed your wrists together as your looked on in shock. Why Sam hadn’t just shot him with a silver bullet was beyond you. He was smarter than this. There was no need to drag out a monster’s death if a more efficient option existed. But as he continued to engage his clone in hand-to-hand combat, it appeared almost as if he was venting his frustrations on the shifter, as if he drank up every ounce of hurt he was able to inflict. But his high only lasted so long and shifter Sam soon regained his balance, making use of his supernatural invulnerability and superior strength.

“Sam!” you screamed as the shifter threw him across the room.

He tumbled up just in time as the shifter meandered over, “So nice of you to join us, Sam. You know, Y/N here was just telling me about-“

Sam didn’t wait for him to finish, choosing instead to tackle him to the floor with a loud grunt. While they wrestled on the ground, you worked furiously at the knots behind you, wincing with every hit Sam took though it was becoming hard to tell them apart.

When Sam finally drew his gun, the shifter was able to divert its barrel and a shot rang out futilely. Catching a subsequent elbow to the ribs had Sam falling to his knees and you watched in horror as shifter Sam once again gained the upper hand, sending the gun flying out of Sam’s grasp. The binding around your wrists was just about undone when Sam seized a stray rusty pipe and swung it against his counterfeit. Shifter Sam was incapacitated for a brief instant but quickly returned to form with some vicious hooks and a couple of well-placed knees.

With your hands finally free of their restraints, you staggered over to the gun, the chair still attached at your ankles. As you took aim, you shouted, “Sam, get down!” before you shot his mirror image through the heart.

Sighing, you slumped to your hands and knees whilst the real Sam sat up with his back against a wall, gaping at you with a look of awe. Yet before he even caught his breath, he was up and gliding toward you, cradling his left wrist at an awkward angle.

“Sam, your wrist!”

“It’s fine, are you OK?” he swiftly dismissed your concern, cupping your face with his good hand as he examined the darkening bruise around your eye.

You ignored the palpitations in your chest and placed a hand upon his wrist, “Yeah, I’m fine. He wasted more time playing mind games than anything. You know villains and their monologues,” you joked, trying to ease his tension and the deluded self-imposed guilt you knew he must’ve been brewing in.

As if to prove your point, Sam lamented, “God, I’m so sorry. I should have known. I should have gotten here sooner.”

“What? No! They were miles ahead of us, Sam. The whole thing was a set up; this was their hunt. How could you have known?”

Rather than replying, he released a breath and busied himself trying to help you out of your binding.

Back at the motel, after icing your eye and stitching up your thigh, you insisted on re-wrapping Sam’s wrist while Dean took care of shifter Y/N’s remains. But when the older Winchester returned and spied you and his brother sitting together on a bed through a crack in the door, he couldn’t resist the chance to exercise his espionage skills.

“How did you know she wasn’t me anyway?” you asked as you gently wound the ace bandage around Sam’s swollen forearm.

“I just…” He looked down at your nimble fingers upon his skin and smiled unwittingly at their tender touch, “had a feeling.”

Sam’s sunflower gaze locked onto yours for a frozen instant and something about his soft expression made you forget what words were, until he cleared his throat, “Did you um- did you know he wasn’t me?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling for some strange reason. Perhaps you were just glad to see his trademark twinkle return to those otherworldly eyes. “Pretty soon after actually. I… had a feeling too.”

Sam’s dimples made every ache in your body disappear as that twinkle glistened in full force, “And how’d you know which one to shoot?”

Well, that dampened your mood and brought you back to the task at hand, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you kept grimacing every time you used your left wrist?” Although your words had a bitter force behind them, the pressure beneath your fingertips never increased and Sam had almost completely forgotten about his pain.

You, on the other hand, were reminded of your struggle to reconcile with what had happened since his question prompted a restored and growing frustration.

It had been bugging you the whole time and you felt compelled to confront him about it because storming in alone with a bad wrist, ready to throw hands with an out-of-his-league monster was really not Sam’s style. Something must’ve gotten into him and with everything the shifter had told you, you couldn’t help but wonder. Nevertheless, you were a little afraid of how he might answer, so Dean had to lean in closer to hear your next words.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?”

“W-what do you mean?” Sam stammered out after a pause.

“Sam, you have a broken wrist, but instead of sending Dean or using your gun from the get-go, you came in like a madman and went after him with your fists!” Your voice was full of incredulity though it also carried an undertone of anger.

As Sam picked up on that reproachful tone, you could almost feel the telltale signs of his puppy dog eyes coming on. “He used my face to deceive you, to hurt you. They manipulated us. I had to- ...I mean, he killed those women just to get us here. He had it coming!”

Your hopes plummeted. Of course, Sam was ever the righteous man. Why would you assume his brashness had been purely born out of a need to avenge you? Though regardless of his reason, you were still upset about his self-destructing behavior, “Yeah, but you had to have realized you were in no position to be the one to give it to him, right? I mean, you might’ve looked the same but he was juiced up on monster superpowers, Sam… which meant he was stronger and faster, not to mention uninjured, in his own territory, and apparently the only one with a sound plan.”

A breath of laughter left Sam’s lips though there was no smile on his face. Here he’d been on a mission to save you, but you were the one who’d ended up saving him, again. You must’ve thought he was comically stupid and pathetically useless. How could he possibly think he was worthy of you? “I guess I should thank you for saving my ass again, huh?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I mean. Sam, you’re the one who saved me! And I’m beyond grateful for it, really I am. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself more in the process.” You finally finished up with his wrist wrap, securing the final ends with a clip, and letting your hands linger on his for longer than necessary, momentarily distracted by the disparity of size between them. Sam didn’t appear uncomfortable though, as his fingers twitched closer to yours and he made no move to pull away.

He couldn’t help but smile again when he noticed the sincere concern in your eyes that was previously absent in the shifter’s. “Yeah well, what was it you once said to me? ‘Your ass will always be worth it’?” 

“And if I remember correctly, you once told me you don’t do things on hunts that make your injuries worse,” you quoted him back with an arched brow.

“Yeah well, I guess this is payback. Now you know how I felt.” A playful grin made his dimples deepen and you clenched your jaw to refrain from gushing over the ridiculous cuteness of this ‘giant lumberjack’.

“You’re an idiot.”

“As long as you’re OK,” Sam answered assuredly, and you nearly melted when his free hand caressed your cheek for the second time that day, big thumb tracing a feather-light path below the purpled skin.

‘You’re both fucking idiots,’ Dean groaned internally from the other side of the door. He knew he had no choice but to up his game.

thanks so much for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!

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TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern​

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 7

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tulipa esperanto ~ A tulip whose flaming petals sprout from a lush green base, signaling growth and the washing away of lingering burdens.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“Thank you both for waiting! I’m just about done.” Felicia chimed from the stove as Levi entered the house. The pleasant smell of fried bread and pork mingled with the freshness of the tulips to create a scent he could only describe as being homey.

“We had no choice but to be occupied.” Oma grumbled from the dining room, one of the spaces Levi had yet to explore. He wandered into the kitchen after removing his shoes and observed Felicia’s bustling and extremely organized methodology. The pan bopped to the rhythm of her wrist while the kettle whistled in melodic time.

“It’s a shame we didn’t have time for tea. We’ll do it after we eat, then.” Oma called, leaning on the doorway that connected the kitchen to the dining room. Levi nodded and clasped his hands behind his back as he awkwardly lingered on the sidelines of the culinary bustle. His languid gaze drifted to the many framed photos that hung on the only wall not covered with ornate gold trinkets or the weaving vines of plants. His eyebrows furrowed as he observed a common theme.

So many of these photos of you were with that hard headed, horse-faced pain in the ass. From what you had told Levi, you had no memory of life without Jean. That he, Oma, and Felicia had been the only constant presences in your life since you were a child. Why did he feel a pang of jealousy? That was a petty emotion.

Oma had placed delicate plaques at the bottom of each frame that accompanied the memory. Levi wouldn’t have pegged her as someone so sentimental.

First Day of Kindergarten

“We’re going to be late, mommy!!” You wailed as your legs jittered like an excited shore bird. Jean stood beside you and rolled his eyes as your anticipation made your connected arms wiggle like a cooked noodle.

“Yes, yes I know. If I could just get this thing-okay, all set, smile big cuties!” Your mother’s gentle voice sang as she clicked the shutter. Jean immediately got over his minor annoyance and the two of you beamed at the camera.

“Lumine, the school bell’s ringing.” Oma chided lightly at her daughter in law.

Levi adored how your wide grin looked too big to be contained by your tiny cheeks.

Noel

“Jean are you even eating in the corps? You look like a twig when you need to be looking like a sturdy branch.” Oma chided as she shuttled more spaetzle onto Jean’s plate. Jean breathed a nervous laugh at her blunt comment.

“Well their food isn’t as good as yours is, Oma.” Jean replied as he gratefully took the plate. You shuffled past the two of them in the busy kitchen to pour yourself a glass of spiced wine.

“Get on my level, noodle-boy.” You teased, bringing your free arm up and flexing your defined muscles as the other held the ladle of wine. Jean threw an arm around your shoulder and squeezed, demonstrating that his noodle arms held more power than they let on.

Felicia had clicked the shutter just as laughter bloomed on your faces and your glass looked dangerously close to spilling over in festive happiness.

Apple Picking

“Freyr, move a little over to the left.” Oma instructed her son. Freyr took a step sideways and bounced, causing you to fly upwards in glee from your resting place on his shoulders. You grasped the sides of his chin as you both grinned at the camera. Crows flew from the canopy of the lush apple orchard behind you.

Levi drank in the features of your father as if he was studying a work of art. He was very tall, strongly built, and had a charisma about him that Levi wagered is why he was so popular in the capital. He resembled more of a lumberjack than a government official. His jawline was hard, like it was curvetted by a steel knife. But his eyes held a softness just like your own.

When Levi’s eyes drifted to the last photo in the row, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He gulped as he let the contents of the picturesque scene sink in. The four individuals looked lively and ecstatic as they proudly showed off their record breaking salmon catch. Your father, Freyr, stood on the far right holding the fish’s head with a confident smirk. You, having to be around 12, stood next to him inwards. Your weak grip was feigning your support of the giant creature’s weight. To the far left your uncle Rall stood perched with the tail held to his chest as he wore a more modest smile than his brother-in-law. Levi felt his arteries clench around his throbbing heart when he gazed upon the girl only a few years older than you at your side. The sweetness of her expression poured icy flames onto Levi’s conscience.

Petra and Y/N’s Catch

Levi felt as if he were the fish in your hands; milky eyed and cold scaled. He was momentarily sent spiraling into his guilt.

“Jean has grown quite handsome now hasn’t he...” Felicia chirped. Levi blinked at the proximity of her bubbly comment as it punched him from his daze. She appeared at his side with their shoulders centimeters from touching.

“You’ve always liked younger men, haven't you?” Oma snickered as she rummaged through the cupboard.

“Hey! I’m not that old Frau Vogel.” Felicia justified with a playful pout. She turned on her heels to grab the dishes from Oma’s hold but was gently slapped away by the determined old woman.

“Yes but you’ve known the boy since he was fresh out of diapers.” Oma quipped back. “Now if you’re done viewing the art gallery of my life, we have dinner to eat.”

The dining room seemed to glow amber. The walls were dressed with a deep cherry wood, carved with grand scenes of folklore that Levi wasn’t familiar with. The table and chairs were no less intricately carved and were birthed of that same rich wood. The table was fit for a family of high standing, its length providing the space to entertain many guests.

Felicia had set the table so that the three of you were sitting close together, leaving a vast empty space for ghosts to join. Levi wondered what kinds of people used to sit there. He let his mind be tempted with that notion as he gradually checked out of the conversation.

If she used to sit there.

After their meal, Levi was left with that satisfactory warmth he felt the day before. He gave his shoulder a good stretch when Oma returned from clearing the dishes.

“How about sitting down with an old woman for tea now?” She said with a small smile.

“Sure.” Levi responded softly. Oma hummed and faded back into the kitchen.

“Felicia went to go check on Y/N and insisted on doing housework.” Oma explained as she gathered the tea time materials.

“So we have a bit of peace-and-quiet time.” She added as she placed two cups of beautiful ivory china on the tea tray next to the tin of Queen Mary leaves.

Oma led the way to the living room which, to his fading surprise, was just as intricately decorated as the rest of the house. Arched windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling displayed the forest to the back of the estate while a grand fireplace framed with pale brick lay in front of the opposite wall. Artwork, photos, and momentos painted all the walls to give it a cozy atmosphere that Levi was still getting used to. Oma placed the tea tray on the coffee table and sat down on one of the long, plush settees. She patted the cushion and Levi joined her, taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

An arid silence passed by them as Oma delicately poured the tea into each cup. He was hyper aware now of his past choice during that expedition. Whether it was a mistake or not. He was painfully cognizant of his absence. Sure Levi was curt, at times off putting, and cautiously intense with people. But his immense guilt for what happened to his squad was an underlying and consistent fuel for his awkwardness around your grandmother. It remained attached to him like a fifth limb, a presence that was always lurking even at the smallest intensities. Your love helped, eventually filling the gaping hole that had been carved there. But a hole is still a hole, forever a crevasse that would be a permanent addition to his soul.

He was deeply afraid to bring it up. Afraid of digging into old wounds, afraid of facing more of her family, afraid that your grandmother would deem him unfit to protect you. To call it an elephant in the room was a severe understatement. The unspoken truth was more the size of a beached whale. He had stopped seeing their ghosts in his own shadow. But even now seeing the familial resemblance of her in Oma he suddenly couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.

“I don’t blame you, Levi.” She said as softly as the clank of the teapot returning to the tray. Levi’s insides seized but he maintained his composure. She leaned back into the cushions with a sigh. When she craned her head to meet his eyes, his gaze remained fixed on the lone tea cup on the tray.

“For Petra.” Her name fell off Oma’s lips with a delicateness that made Levi’s throat itch with impending shame. “I saw you looking at her photo.”

The itch expanded to an inflation that embedded his incoming breath into the folds of his esophagus.

↞♞♘↠

Your body shivered in the remnants of your hysterical cries. You wished the sadness could have been swept up in the powerful current of your tears but it clung to you like a jagged rock resting just under the rippling water’s surface. Her absence felt like a vital organ had been forcibly taken from your body and the thief hadn’t bothered to stitch you up properly.

“Levi-” You breathed, voice heavy with the aftermath of your latest breakdown. It felt like a tiring journey from the empty bedroom to his office.

Earlier you had held each other, wept with one another, and began grieving together. But as the hours grew on Levi had drawn more reclusive. He had evicted himself from the bed in your fatigue and had resigned to his office chair. The form that occupied the space you almost didn't recognize. He sat deeply reclined in the chair and allowed the material to swallow him. His head dangled limply off his right shoulder, clouded eyes looking at nothing and everything at once. The only sign of vitality in this lifeless shell was the small puffs of air that left his nose.

It was fresh. Painfully fresh. Like a band aid that had ripped off multiple layers of skin. But you needed him right now and you knew he needed you too. The sudden loss of Petra was boring into you. You couldn’t imagine that loss times three that he was experiencing.

“Please we need to talk.” You whimpered as you slowly padded towards his crumpled stature. His swollen eyes and bloodshot whites betrayed his marbled features. He was hesitant to reach for you, to hold you, to touch you. He was sure a part of you must have despised him. Through his own pulsations of pain he could see your own distress. He desperately wanted to be there for you, to wipe away all that ailed you. But how could he do that when he couldn’t even wipe the pain from himself? Especially when he had a hand in inflicting such devastation onto you.

He could never forgive himself for that. For what he did to any of you.

Yet when you unfurled his limbs, climbed into his lap, and encircled yourself into his embrace he exhaled and held you right back.

“Don’t hide from me.” You said with an insatiable quiver. You felt Levi’s arms loosen and begin to pull away as you rested your head in the crook of his neck.

“Please...don’t.” You pleaded, desperate for his comfort. You quickly grabbed his wrists and placed them back along your spine. Levi breathed in frustration but didn’t move to withdraw himself again.

“There’s nothing I can do to bring them back.” He stated with a hopeless gravel.

“I know.” You replied weakly. Levi’s shoulder tingled with fresh tears. He squeezed his eyes shut in self disdain when he began to feel your shaking.

“You must deteste me.” He hummed dryly as the obsessive images of his fallen squad drew more tears from him once more. Each time he thought he was done crying their lifeless bodies bombarded him with more waterworks.

“Levi-” You cried as a sob raked your body.

“How could you even stand to be around me after what I did?” Levi bitterly pushed out as he tasted the salty flow of droplets.

“Shut up!” You coughed, sitting straight up in his lap to look him in the eyes. Your emotions were short circuiting and your patience was running thin for his blame but you hadn’t intended for your reply to come out so aggressive.

Your hands pushed down on his chest as your eyes fluttered shut. You took a moment to take in a deep, albeit ragged, breath. When your eyes opened Levi was fixated on the floor. You grasped his head between your hands and rectified his deflated body.

Your movement forced him to look at you, the two of you exchanging expressions beaten-down by sadness and frustration.

Thinking of the words you were about to formulate spurred more pressure behind your eyes before you articulated them. What was left of Levi's composure fractured as he began to drown in your sorrowful orbs.

You brushed his cheek to keep the both of you from floating away like paper lanterns. You could have lost each other out there today as well as your many comrades and the smoothness of his skin against your thumb kept you in this reality.

This was not the time for conversation, you had already had that. Already had assured him that their passing wasn’t his fault. That, sure if he was there maybe things would have been different but that his actions didn’t dictate their deaths. Telling him again would only be beating a dead horse and cause you both more anguish. The two of you were too weak for that right now.

“You trust me.” You uttered those words as a statement without a hint of question.

Levi nodded instantly. The motion was anamatronic-esque as he struggled to stay afloat.

“I’m here.” You stated softly, taking his hand and placing it directly over your overworked heart. A wave of calm washed over him as he watched his palm move with the deep rhythm of your breathing.

“You’re here.” You continued with a sniffle. You placed your hand on his chest, sighing in comfort as he breathed life into your palm.

“And if we focus on the what if’s we’re going to be hopeless forever.” You spoke the words with vulnerability that betrayed their prowess.

That shattered him.

You watched as his face scrunched with all the emotion he had hid this morning. His brow sloped into his quivering lip and he let out a helpless yelp. He was always trying to not feel. But he could only feign numbness until it embedded itself into everything he did. The void he was carrying now overflowed with singeing emotion that he needed to feel.

For them.

For you.

For himself.

Seeing him so broken caused you to crack too. But for Levi, the gruesome scenes that were replaying on a brutal loop were dulled by the warmth of your hand on his chest, the welcome pressure of your thighs against his, and perhaps the most by your beautiful eyes that despite being ravaged by tears were like a shining beacon in the turbulent storm.

He removed your hand from his chest and took them into his own. He raised your hands to his lips and pressed salted kisses to them.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He croaked and intertwined his fingers with yours with such a force that his knuckles grew white. He begged for your forgiveness, bathed in your light to douse his sinful acts. For you must have been a saint to not have casted him out by now.

He kept apologizing because there was nothing else he could do. He lamented that he wasn’t quick enough. That their last moments were spent in agony and terror. That their deaths not only affected him but you as well.

Your limbs were entangled and foreheads were buried in shoulders for an uncountable amount of time. The two of you slowly dragged one another out of the suffocating mud of the expedition and into the present moment. When tears had dried and embraces grown less feverous, you spoke up.  

“Erwin is allowing me to go home for a few days.” You announced with a sad smile.

Levi hummed weakly as he ghosted his fingers along your scalp.

“Do you want to come with me?” Your invite hung on the air as Levi contemplated. He felt bad denying you but there was no way he would be able to face your family right now. That may have been selfish of him, but he just couldn’t.

He bit the inside of his cheek as you craned your neck to regard him. You understood his silence and nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Okay.” You kissed at the spot where his neck met his collarbone.

↞♞♘↠

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Was all that Levi could manage to say. He didn’t know how to make any apology enough for her grandchild’s absence. He felt disgust rise like bile in this throat all over again.

Oma nodded at his condolences and hid her lingering sadness behind seasoned professionalism.

“Thank you. I’m sorry to you too. You lost her just like the rest of us.” She responded with a mature kindness that made Levi want to poke his eyes out with self-loathing. If the loss hurt him beyond belief, he would never be able to know the extent of Oma’s pain, your pain, and Petra’s parents’ pain.

“I can see that you blame yourself.” Oma inferred with a caring tone. Levi’s hardened gaze remained on the table.

“I know what it’s like to lead a squadron. I know the helpless feeling of someone slipping through your fingers too quickly to catch them.” Oma consoled with a genuine seriousness that made Levi’s eyes flick up to hers. She sighed and placed her tea cup down.

Levi didn’t move as she scooched closer to place a hand over his. His fingers twitched at the calloused pads of her withered hand encircled his.

“It was one year into my promotion to a unit captain. I remember that day so vividly; the bitter smell of the canon smoke mixing with Hannes’ ripe gin, the way the wind gently rocked the trees just over wall Maria, the remnants of my throbbing hangover from the previous night’s excursions."

“I had ordered my unit to scale along the wall and raise the new cannons that had been provided the day prior while I joined Pixis at the guard post. We were having our daily banter when a thunderous quaking assaulted our ears and gave us whiplash with how fast we turned towards the wall. A hoard of titans, many of them abnormals, were rushing towards Wall Maria.”

“We had never experienced an attack so fierce, so alarmingly abrupt. My legs couldn’t carry me quickly enough to my unit before the fuckers started hurling themselves at the wall. The clash of skulls against the structure was deafening. Some of my soldiers decided to ascend, to fight them atop the wall and blast their brains out with the cannons. Others decided to take their chances at slashing their necks. However, the ladder couldn’t compete with the assault and soon their screams morphed into stains on stone.”

“After the attack, I too bashed my skull with guilt and regret. If only I had just waited to assign them to that job. What if instead, I told them to take care of the already positioned cannons. But would it have really made any difference? I’ve come to realize I couldn’t have ever anticipated a horror like that.” Oma’s eyes glazed over in sour memory.

“My point is, you can’t dwell on the what-ifs because that’s not how life went or ever will. You have to live with what life gives-and takes-from you.” Oma continued, holding Levi’s stare with one elderly compassion.

“You led them and inspired them to take action. Their sacrifices were just that; sacrifices they were willing to take for something they believed in.”

As she spoke, acute darts dripped in his squad’s long dried blood threatened to pierce the shield he had built up to their intrusions. But her kind words warded them off almost immediately and Levi felt more relieved than he could ever express to hear her sympathy.

“I’m sure you know it never truly goes away. But forgiving yourself for something that was out of your control dulls the sharpness of that blade.” She smiled flatly with soft eyes.

Listening to her story and feeling her presence sparked an understanding in Levi so deep that it felt foreign to him. It wasn’t the surface level sympathy usually set unto him by his comrades. Nor the solace and empathy you provided him. With Oma it was raw, unaltered. She had seemed to mine his soul and recover a luminous diamond out of the charcoal.

She brewed this sensation within him that peeled away the murky veil of his role of a steely captain. Underneath resided a more youthful soldier who still had much to conquer and learn. He realized he wasn’t actually as aged as he was required to act.

The hectic scenarios that had wracked his mind since he arrived at her doorstep were blown away with the gentle breath of her rapport. He squeezed her hand, instantly feeling her squeeze back.

“Thank you. That...means a lot.” He said as the ice on his brow melted. Oma grinned at his instant brightness, clearly pleased that she had managed to crack through his shell.

“What is it?” She asked with a wispy chuckle as she observed Levi’s minute crescent smile.

“Y/N gave me similar advice after it happened.” He confessed, feeling lighter than he had in years.

“Well, good. Means I raised her well.” Oma smirked fondly. She let go of his hand to uptake her tea cup once again.

“I would never let anything happen to Y/N.” Levi professed as he finally grabbed his tea as well. His grip tightened on his cup as if holding it sturdily cemented his promise. Oma’s grin widened at his dedication as they locked eyes once more.

“We are all responsible for ourselves, and all we can do for others is try our best to protect them. You have done just that, son.” She said after a hearty swig of her drink.

“You’ve been so good to both my girls, whether you see it or not. That’s all I could ever dream of in a superior officer, a friend, and a partner.”

Her heartwarming comment did exactly that to Levi. Except instead of blanketing him with a gentle heat it burned his chest all at once. The fire was so powerful that Levi couldn’t subdue the genuine smile that infiltrated his features. It widened his cheeks and parted his chapped lips in a beautiful display of appreciation.

Oma’s eyes widened and she coughed as her sip of tea almost slid down the wrong pipe.

“It’s a shame Y/N only gets to see those smiles.” Her wheeze was followed by a cackle. Her teasing made him roll his eyes but his smile didn’t diminish.

“Don’t tell her or she’ll think I’ve gone soft.” He chuckled himself as rich as the umber liquid in his cup. Oma winked as she took another sip.

“You know, I would have liked to have met you at Petra’s funeral but there wasn’t one. Her mother insisted on keeping things private.” Oma explained with a long exhale. Levi did recall you talking to him about that. Petra’s parents lived quite a distance away from you and Oma and became more private as the two of you grew up.

Levi nodded and pursed his lips. He definitely wouldn’t have been in the right mental space for that. Oma noted his silence and as if afraid he was going to creep back into his iron guard, sighed in contentment.

“I was so proud that she joined your squad.” She was basked in a lovely nostalgic glow as she mused.

“She looked delicate and slight but Petra had a fire in her like I’ve never seen in anyone else.”

“She did.” Levi agreed. His eyes fell to the fireplace as he traced his finger along the ivory rim of his cup. “She was one of the most skilled soldiers I’ve known.”

Oma hummed in agreement.

“Petra spoke so highly of you, you were truly her role model. She was ecstatic when you and Y/N got together. Couldn’t think of a better person for her little cousin.” Oma praised with the enthusiasm of a proud relative.

Levi let out an awkward huff and shook his head lightly as he brought his cup to his lips.

“You know she’s the reason Y/N wanted to join the corps?”

↞♞♘↠

The sun hung low in the sky when Levi’s squad found themselves lazily lounging at one of the picnic tables that framed the sparring area.  

“The cadets are going to arrive next week.” Gunther commented idly.

“Yes! My younger cousin is going to be joining the 104th class.” Petra beamed, clearly proud of her relative.

“Another cadet with your same beautiful genes? I can’t wait.” Oluo winked and Petra pursed her lips in unamusement.

“Keep it in your pants, Oluo. Or are you hitting on girls you haven’t even met yet?” Eld chided with a smirk.

“How do you feel about her joining, Petra?” Eld asked more seriously.  

“While I’m a bit bittersweet about it, I couldn’t think of another person more capable to be a new recruit.” Petra smiled sadly yet her eyes held excitement at being reunited with her kin.

“Hm, seems like the military runs in your family.” Levi commented, rolling his head against his shoulders to offer a loud crack.

“Yeah, Oma hated it when I joined so I bet she despised it when Y/N decided to fly the nest too.” Petra giggled with the lightness of a sparrow taking flight. A boisterous boom followed by an aggressive order caused the party to direct their attention to the arena.

“And so the hellscape is raised once again.” Gunther nodded to where Shadis was noisily instructing soldiers on where to place the cadet training equipment.

“The stick that’s within his ass imbeds itself deeper each year.” Eld yawned and stretched.

“I’ll be there to fight for her if he takes it too far.” Petra boasted in determination. Her declaration was fiery but her delicate features softened the promise. The special operations squad knew all too well, though, not to underestimate the strength that resided under that cute exterior.

“Hazing is part of the cadet experience.” Gunther shrugged.

“Need to get the nerves burning hot somehow.” Eld added.

“Oh come on, you guys are horrible!” Petra huffed.  

“I’ll make sure she’s well taken care of-” Oluo passionately interjected.

“That’s not necessary.” Petra cut him off with a jab to the ribs.

“You’ll back me up, right Levi?” She looked to their captain expectantly while Oluo's groans grew in pitch.

Levi shrugged in indifference. However the way Petra’s eyes glinted with eagerness made him more inclined to agree.

“If she’s not a brat.”

Petra threw him a pout as the crew’s light-hearted jokes floated up to meet the chromatic tendrils of the evening sky.

[alright-anakin]

I posted 1,663 times in 2021

136 posts created (8%)

1527 posts reblogged (92%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 11.2 posts.

I added 3,093 tags in 2021

#anakin skywalker - 742 posts

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Longest Tag: 140 characters

#but it does make me laugh when anakin has like his first vision of padme dying in childbirth but it’s just her screaming and it’s like. yeah

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Angstpril 2021 Day 17: Out of Time

tw: torture

Day 17: Out of Time

Anakin slumped forward, the durasteel restraints digging painfully into his left wrist and ankles, and grating loudly against his prosthetic. His nerves had to be fried by now and he was surely losing brain cells. “How did you get onboard this station?” The guard sneered.

“I… I don’t know,” he slurred, hardly able to speak above a whisper. He hardly had time to catch his breath before the familiar ding of the activation button sounded and lightning danced over his skin. He’d stopped being able to hold back his screams hours earlier.

read more here

31 notes • Posted 2021-04-17 16:19:49 GMT

#4

MayWhump Day 13 Alt 1: Sleep Deprivation

Plo Koon *see's an actual baby trip over their own two feet because they're exhausted and hurt*: *dad mode activated*

Day Thirteen: Alt Prompt 1: Sleep Deprivation

Anakin was wandering the Temple. Again. He was exhausted, or at least, his body was, and sore, still recovering from the last mission where he was blown back by an exploding tank. His body begged for rest, but his mind would not shut up, so he is here, trudging along, arm wrapped loosely around his aching midsection. He didn’t expect to see anyone up at night. And in all honesty, he didn’t. Not at first. In fact, he tripped over something, his own two feet probably, before seeing anyone. He falls hard to the floor, letting out a surprised oomph . Then he felt a clawed hand on the back of his head. “Knight Skywalker?” Then a small clucking sound of disapproval. Anakin groans.

read more here

33 notes • Posted 2021-05-14 06:11:28 GMT

#3

For the sick whump prompts: ►: crisp, clean pajamas with Anakin? 👉👈🥺

Thank you so much for the ask, dear!

tw: vomiting

Crisp Clean Pajamas

Anakin felt awful. As soon as he’d woken up that morning, he’d alternated between laying in bed, running to the fresher to be sick, and curling up on the sofa in a ball of misery. He hadn’t even had the energy to tell Ahsoka he couldn’t meet with her for saber practice. Standing too long made him dizzy, and he was so nauseated he didn’t want to open his mouth, much less talk. He curled in on himself even more when his stomach growled. He moaned into the pillow, clutching at his belly as it churned angrily. He supposed he must have caught some sort of bug. Or perhaps it was food poisoning. He wasn’t entirely sure.

Then his comm was beeping. Taking a moment to decide if standing up would just send him right back to the fresher, he decided to risk it. He hauled himself to his feet and stumbled into the kitchen, groaning as the nausea peaked. Taking a deep breath, he waited for it to pass. Then he plucked his comm up from the counter and sank into one of the chairs. “Hello?” he greeted, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounded.

read more here

47 notes • Posted 2021-06-01 19:42:04 GMT

#2

Din: What would you say if i came home with a ship full of foundlings?

Luke: um... Whats in the ship?

Din: ...

Luke: Din, what's in the ship?

Din: I think you already know.

82 notes • Posted 2021-01-19 00:31:24 GMT

#1

Ashoka: I could be wrong, but I’m sensing something’s bothering you.

Anakin: I’m just focused on the mission.

Ahsoka: No, you’re troubled about something else. As your Padawan, I am attuned to your emotions.

Anakin: Okay, can you stay out of my head?

Ahsoka: I’m not in your head. You’re just really bad at hiding your emotions.

89 notes • Posted 2021-08-05 17:05:50 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[recollins]

Unwanted (Spencer Reid x you)

To you, Morgan refusing to room with Spencer is his clear attempt to hook you up with your long-time crush. To Spencer, though, it seems no one wants to be stuck sharing a room with him. A/N: If y’all are interested in a (probably pretty smutty) part 2, please let me know! Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader Words: 4,659 Content: Angst Warnings: None Masterlist - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

One Week Ago

It’d started simple enough: a simple jack & coke, and a basket of fries to share between you, Morgan, and Penelope. Just a little something to unwind, hopefully make it easier to get to sleep tonight. It had been a hard case, and going home to your empty apartment had been the last thing you’d wanted to do…

Morgan, of course, had taken that completely the wrong way, and began teasing about finding you someone to take back with you. One drink in, it’d been harmless joking. Now, six shots deep, your self-proclaimed wingman was on the hunt.

“You said yourself you didn’t wanna go home alone,” he pointed out, cocky grin backing up his point as he struggled to stand up.

“I didn’t mean I wanted someone to take home!” you groaned, clinging to Morgan’s arm with a death grip, trying to keep him away from the group of guys at the bar he’d decided to introduce you to.

“Ay, you just said you haven’t been with anyone in six months,” he laughed, easily untangling your unsteady hold on him to try and stand again; you reattached yourself immediately. “As your friend and wingman, I can’t let that slide.”

“You so totally can. I give you full permission to let it do exactly that,” you insisted, dropping your head against his arm. “Morgan, really, I don’t want to take any of these guys home!”

“What, you don’t trust me, sunshine?” Morgan scoffed, then nodded over your head. “Look, I got Penny G a ticket to a pretty good night…”

Instantly your eyes slid to your best friend, leaning against the bar and talking to what would normally be considered a decently attractive man. And yeah, Morgan probably could find you someone to hook up with. Except you didn’t just want any guy, you wanted –

Morgan had capitalized on your distraction and broken free, already moving for a group of guys at the bar. You scrambled after him, snagging his hand and hauling him back desperately; he didn’t even stumble. Oh god, he was really gonna do this. You had to stop him before he got you tangled up into something you didn’t want to deal with. The words came out before you could stop them.

“Morgan no, I don’t wanna just get with someone! I wanna be with someone!”

That stopped him. Morgan turned and gave you a curious look, having picked up on your not-so-subtle play on words. That had been the sign. You should’ve aborted mission right then and there, scampered out of that bar and gotten your drunken mouth as far away from Derek Morgan as possible.

“Someone, or…” a smirk curled dangerously over his lips. “Someone.”

You opened your mouth to scoff when you realized what he meant. It hung open for several seconds before you stammered,

“I – I just meant, I don’t want a random stranger coming home with me –“

“Nah, uh-uh,” he grinned, turning and walking you back to the booth, gently nudging you down before sliding in beside you. “You meant you don’t wanna have a random hookup. And by that look on your face, I think it’s cause you got your eyes set on a particular someone.”

Just play it cool, [y/n]. You’re a profiler too. You can talk your way out of this. Don’t let him figure you out!

“I never said that.”

Smooth. Okay, it’s fine. You can recover from this.

“Oh you did,” he said slowly, eyes narrowing a hint as he studied you. As he profiled you. “There’s one guy you want to take home, someone you haven’t been able to get with that you’ve liked for at least six months.”

“I – what? No. That’s not – quit profiling me!” you squeaked out, drunk thoughts desperately trying to gather themselves to build a defense. Get. It. TOGETHER. You are a profiler with the FBI. You bluff serial killers all the time. You can bluff a drunk Morgan!

“Uh huh. That’s why it’s been so long since you got any. You been hung up on this one dude the whole time. And you know what else? I bet I know him.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Carefully back out of the trap he just set. Walk around it. Don’t fall into it.

No words came out whatsoever. You opened your mouth, and it just hung there as useless as your brain was being right now. Morgan’s smirk just grew.

“That’s what I thought. So let’s see… someone I know. Six months. You transferred to the BAU just about that time, didn’t you?”

“No.”

Oh for fucks sake, [y/n]! How the hell are you a profiler?!

“Huh. Yeah, you did,” Morgan said slyly. Okay, you had to get ahead of him on this! Cut him off, before he snapped the last pieces in place. Stop the train of embarrassment before it could leave the tracks. “Which, by default, means it’s –”

“I do not like Reid!” you blurted out at the same time Morgan said,

“… probably someone at headquarters.”

You both fell quiet for a heartbeat, staring at one another wide-eyed as the words you’d just thrown out settled between you. Oh. My. God. You had just outed yourself. This was not what you’d meant when you said to get ahead of him!

The grin that spread over Morgan’s face sealed your fate. There was no going back. There was no denying your admission, no hiding the crush you’d been harboring all this time. It was out in the open, and in Morgan’s hands it was not gonna end well.

You were never drinking again.

- - - 

Now

Morgan’s dark eyes flicked over Reid’s shoulder, meeting your wide, pleading gaze. A spark of mischief glinted in the wink he threw to you before turning to talk to the man in front of him. Oh god, you were gonna kill Morgan as soon as you got the chance.

He’d been quiet about your crush all last week and all through the first half of this case. You’d been expecting him to tease you non-stop, drop hints to Reid, hang a banner over your desk with your confession and throw confetti every time he passed…

The silence had been a trap. You should’ve known better than to think he would ever let this go. It’d taken time, but now that the opportunity had presented itself he wasn’t letting it pass by him. It was the perfect storm: the hotel was overbooked, Emily and JJ had already paired off, and Morgan had beat you to Hotch by half a second.

Now, he was breaking the news to Reid, and in just a few minutes you’d be stuck sleeping in the same room as the man you couldn’t get out of your head. You were still desperately making faces at him, shaking your head in a silent plea, doing whatever you could to avoid what would undoubtedly be the most awkward night of your life.

“You and I always room together,” Reid said slowly; you could see the tilt of his head as Morgan shrugged.

“We gotta mix it up every now and then. Keep it fresh,” Morgan explained, slinging an arm around Reid’s shoulder as he spun him around without warning, nudging him towards you. “Ain’t that right, [y/n]?”

You were still shaking your head, mouthing don’t you dare at Morgan when they both turned to face you. You froze for half a second and then gave a nervous smile, trying to play it off.

“Uh, y-yeah. Yeah,” you managed, clearing your throat and trying in vain to keep the blush off your face. Dropping his hold on Reid and slinging his duffle over his shoulder, Morgan wiggled his brows at you as you crossed your arms, scowling up at him as he passed.

“Have a good night, you two,” he teased before disappearing up the stairs. For several long, awkward moments you and Reid stood in painful silence, looking anywhere but each other.

Okay, you couldn’t stand in the lobby forever. You’d just have to act like you hadn’t played out this exact scenario dozens of times before with the handsome doctor standing across from you. It was fine. You could do this.

When you looked up, though, the look on Reid’s face caught you off-guard. He’d been staring at you but the moment you locked eyes he gave a quick couple of blinks before looking away, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling nervously. His hands came up to the strap of his bag and he clung to it tight; something he only did when he was uneasy.

He was uncomfortable having to be stuck with you. Your heart sunk, twisting painfully on its way down to the pit of your stomach. You hadn’t even considered that Reid wouldn’t want to be paired with you, and it came like a slap to the face.

Let’s just get tonight over with, you thought desolately, scooping up your duffel and grabbing the key card off the counter, silently leading the way up to the rooms. Reid didn’t speak until you got inside, simply mumbling a thanks as you held the door for him.

He didn’t make any eye contact, not even looking up as he dumped his own bag beside the door. As you turned to move further inside, you froze. Of fucking course. There was only one queen-sized bed. For half a heartbeat excitement shivered through you. Sharing a bed with Reid? Yes please.

Except, when you turned to gauge his response, the look on his face instantly shut those thoughts down. The best way to describe it was absolutely devastated. He stared at the bed unmoving; you could practically feel the cogs whirring in his mind.

When he turned to you, you offered the best smile you could with all the aching in your chest and his expression caught you off-guard. His face was decidedly neutral but his eyes cut through you. At first it almost looked like heartache - mirroring the own inside of you - but before you could pinpoint it he turned away and shrugged his messenger bag off his shoulders.

“Do you mind if I shower first?” his voice was soft; you would’ve missed his question if you hadn’t been so close. You went to answer and the words stuck in your throat as you felt tears welling up. Swallowing them down quickly, you nodded and said,

“No, go for it.”

He didn’t reply, simply stooping and grabbing a bundle of clothes out of his bag and disappearing into the bathroom as fast as he could. As soon as you heard the water start up, you gave a pathetic sniff and quickly tried to brush the forming tears away as you dropped onto the bed.

It was dumb, you knew it was, but Reid’s rejection hurt. Hell, this wasn’t rejection. He clearly flat-out detested being forced with you and you had no idea why. You’d never really talked to him that much, admittedly, but you hadn’t thought that was such a bad thing.

You were a listener, and more than anything you loved hearing him rattle off endless facts about everything under the sun. Whether it be statistics on female arsonists, or the percentage of adult males in the population of Indianapolis, or where German chocolate cake came from, you were all ears. The most conversational you got with him was prompting for more facts. On occasion you got paired with him on a case, but more often than not it was comfortable silence and idle chit-chat on your part, and the endless stream of knowledge from him.

More than anything, you wanted to just talk to him, have a real conversation with him, do something more than stare at him with heart-eyes and ogle his attractive face. You never had, though, because you’d been terrified of saying something stupid to him, or making yourself look like an idiot, or coming off clingy and weird because you liked him so much and sometimes you just ended up staring at him because my god that jawline, and his gorgeous eyes, and those hands -

Well, now it didn’t matter, because you’d totally ruined the tiny bit of rapport you’d built with him over the months - god only knows how - and he had made it clear that being forced to be near you for longer than an hour or two was something he couldn’t handle.

For the duration of his shower, you seriously debated calling Morgan and begging him to switch with you. This was his damn fault after all, and you didn’t want to make Reid any more uncomfortable -

Oh my god. That’s right. There was only one bed. You let out a groan and flopped back onto the mattress, burying your face in your hands. This seriously couldn’t be any more awkward. The water shut off and you sat up quickly, wiping the lingering tears off your cheeks and running a hand through your hair, trying to pull your emotions into place.

Okay, you'd take a shower and then offer to get some dinner. Food solved everything, right? You guys could eat, maybe you could talk through the awkwardness, and if not you’d just build a dividing wall of pillows down the center of the bed and force your way through the next six hours.

And if it all goes to shit I just won’t get on the jet. I’ll leave the BAU and start a new life in Indianapolis and won’t ever both Reid again, you reasoned, getting up to grab your shower bag as you heard the door open. Reid didn’t even look up at you as he came into the room, still toweling off his hair, head down and completely oblivious to the friendly smile you’d offered.

Eyes falling to the floor, you trudged into the bathroom and shut the door, sighing heavily and slumping against the door. Maybe you’d just camp out in here all night. Would that be less akward than forcing him into a bed with you?

Ugh, you had no idea. You couldn’t keep going in circles right now. Shoving off the door, you turned the shower on and as you started to undress you realized you were missing something... Right. Clothes. You sort of needed something to wear. The last thing you needed was to traipse out in a towel and dig for your pajamas; things were already uncomfortable enough between you two as it was.

Shutting off the water briefly, you ducked out of the bathroom and made for your duffle, only to freeze when you caught sight of Reid. He was literally halfway out the door with one bag in his hand and the other slung over his shoulder, eyes wide, staring at you like you’d just caught him committing murder.

Or, y’know, awkwardly trying to abandon you while you were showering.

The two of you stood in painful, tense silence and you literally fought back tears when things clicked into place. He’d been planning his escape - he’d opted to take a shower first just for this reason.

He was so miserable being stuck with you he was literally running the first chance he got. You dropped your eyes to your feet, trying to think of what to say. Had you really made him that uncomfortable? Guilt overwhelmed everything else, realizing it was all your fault Morgan had done this.

“You don’t need to leave,” you whispered, hands wringing together as you tried to keep your voice steady. “I can go crash with JJ and Emily.”

“It’s fine,” he dismissed, the hard edge in his voice cutting into your already sensitive heart. “I don’t want to inconvenience you more than I have.”

What? You peeked up at him through your lashes, frown on your face. He wasn’t looking at you, head turned away, jaw clenched tight.

“You aren’t an inconvenience.” Reid’s lips pressed together into a tight line and he took a breath before he said quietly,

“You don’t have to be nice to me to spare my feelings, [y/n]. Despite what most people think I’m not oblivious when it comes to reading emotions. I’m actually very good at picking up on unspoken cues.”

“I never thought you weren’t,” you told him almost defensively. Why did it feel like he saw himself as the one being attacked here? He was the one running out on you. “I’m not just being nice. I – I really don’t mind you here.”

Well, you could’ve sounded a bit more convincing but again, your nerves and the emotions were getting the best of you and your words weren’t coming out as you wanted them to. Finally, though, Reid turned to look at you. That same emotion was in his gaze again, chocolate eyes glinting with a sadness you hadn’t expected, though the expression on his face hardened into a defensive frown as he threw out sharply,

“You and Morgan really need to work on telling a convincing lie.”

His quip was a blow to the stomach, knocking the breath out of you as you actually recoiled from his harsh tone. When he caught sight of your reaction his frown faltered. Wounded now, all you managed to ask was,

“Why would I lie to you, Reid?”

With a heavy sigh, obviously considering just taking off down the hall, he stepped back into the room and let the door shut. Though he sat his duffle down, his messenger bag stayed in place across his shoulders and his hands came up to tangle in the strap again.

“I saw the looks you were giving Morgan earlier, [y/n]. You didn’t want room with me. And I get it.” His eyes fell to his shoes, hands wringing the strap tighter, voice tightening with emotion as he said softly, “it’s always a race to avoid being paired with me. And normally Morgan sucks it up, but I guess he’s tired of me too. It’s not fair for you to be stuck with me, so I’m not putting you in that position.”

Oh. Oh no.

Your mind replayed the moments in the lobby, guilt and shame swarming you when you realized exactly how that had looked to Reid. Morgan pushing him off with a bullshit line of “We gotta mix it up every now and then”. You, practically jumping up and down begging not to be with Reid, and then scowling at Morgan when he teased you for the matchup. It had looked like you’d drawn the short straw, like Reid was unwanted.

“I’m so sorry,” you said quickly, heart twisting when he didn’t look over at you. “That’s not it at all. I – I mean, I didn’t wanna spend the night with you but –“

“It’s okay, [y/n], I get it.”

“You don’t,” you insisted; the tone of your voice caught his attention and finally he met your eyes. He took in your expression - and the blush on your cheeks - and his brows drew into a frown. “It’s not you, okay? There’s nothing wrong with you, like at all.”

“What is it then?” he pressed, the challenge in his gaze making it clear he really didn’t believe you. He thought you were still just trying to be nice.

You know what? Fuck it. Things were already messy as it was, why not throw everything into the blender and turn it on high?

"I didn’t want to room with you because I’ve had a crush on you for months and I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for you because I don’t know how to act when I’m with you and I didn’t wanna put you in an awkward position,” you rushed out in one breath, speaking before you could stop yourself.

The words hung in the air between you two as painful silence followed your confession. Reid’s brows drew together even more, and for a moment he ducked his head, processing what you’d just said. I mean, you knew it had just been an unexpected dump of information, but the silence was killing you. Did he not believe you? Did he maybe like you back? Had you just made things worse? Was he gonna file harassment complaints with HR and get a restraining order on you?!

Seriously, he had to say something before you imploded.

Finally, after what felt like years, Reid met your eyes again. This time, the unwavering doubt and defensiveness in his stare caught you off guard and you stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak because you had no idea what to do with the look he was giving you.

“Morgan put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Well, you hadn’t been expecting that. Clearly, Morgan hadn’t told him about your crush, but what did he think was going on? All your years on this earth and all your time as a profiler had not prepared you to figure out what the hell was happening.

“What do you mean?” you hedged; he took your roundabout answer as confirmation and he blew out a bitter breath. He deflated, like for just a heartbeat he’d let himself believe my words and now I’d ripped that away from him. “Reid –“

“It’s part of his prank war, right? I took all the spoons out of his apartment –“ ...he what? “ – so he has you pretend you like me.”

Admittedly that hurt a little bit. Your feelings for him were a joke? Defensive again, you crossed your arms and challenged,

“Why would that be a prank?” when he gave you a look as if to say why do you think, you repeated, “I like you, Reid.”

“You don’t,” he deflected immediately. You opened your mouth to argue and he gave a bitter laugh. “You can’t.”

Okay, you knew you weren’t on his level with pretty much anything – smarts, looks, personality… - but seriously. You weren’t allowed to like him because of that?

“What? Why not?” you scoffed, defensive argument on the ready as he told you simply,

“Because beautiful girls like you don’t like dorky, ugly guys like me, [y/n]. I don’t get lucky like that. I let it slip to Morgan that I liked you and I thought that was safe with him but clearly he’s just trying to use that against me.”

Your mouth was still open, having been ready to defend yourself, but now you just couldn’t comprehend what he’d just told you. Reid thought you were beautiful? He… he thought you liking him would be lucky? He’d told Morgan he liked you?! Your heart was stuttering in your chest, still stuck trying desperately to wrap around the fact that Spencer Reid thought you were beautiful.

Once again he took your silence as agreement – oblivious to your bright red face and open-mouthed stare – because he went on,

“I appreciate you trying to be kind but you really don’t need to –“

You did the only thing you could think to do. Before you could second-guess yourself, you crossed the room and stepped up to Reid, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down into a hard kiss. He made a noise of surprise, holding absolutely still as your lips moved against his, trying to convey the honesty you’d been trying to tell him. When he still hadn’t moved, concern sparked in your chest and instantly you broke away, your hand slowly trailing down his jaw as you retreated back half a step.

All he could do was stare at you in complete and total shock. His lips were parted as he drew in a ragged breath, wide eyes flicking back and forth between your own. Okay, he really needed to stop with the painful silences. The embarrassed flush crept slowly up your neck, heating up your face as your hand came up to nervously rub the back of your neck.

“What –“ his voice was an octave higher than normal and he quickly cleared his throat, blinking rapidly as he tried again, “what was that for? Not – not that I mind. I don’t – I just, I don’t understand –“

“I was being serious. I’ve had a crush on you for a long time,” you admitted, dropping your eyes, embarrassment overwhelming to the point you couldn’t meet his stare anymore. “Since I met you, actually. And it wasn’t supposed to come out, like, ever, because I never figured you would like me back. But I got drunk around Morgan and it came out… He said he’s my self-proclaimed wingman so I guess this was –“

“Why wouldn’t I like you?” he pressed softly, taking a step towards you. Unable to look up, nerves still overwhelming you, you simply shrugged your shoulders and said meekly,

“You’re so sweet, and so funny and – and you’re crazy smart. You’re like, the most brilliant person I’ve ever met. And, y’know, you’re kind of ridiculously attractive.” His words from a few moments ago sprung up and now you did flick your eyes up to his to add heatedly, “you’re not a dorky, ugly kid. I hate that you see yourself that way, because to me you’re the opposite.”

His eyes were burning into you, cutting through your core with such an intensity it took your breath away. When he didn’t say anything you had to drop your gaze just to get your thoughts back in order.

Reid’s hand tentatively reached out to you, fingers gently tucking under your chin to tilt your head up. As your eyes met again he closed the distance between the two of you, hand sliding up your jaw until his hand cupped your face. Slowly, he leaned down towards you, giving you time to pull away if you’d wanted to.

You didn’t move.

The ghost of a smile turned up his lips for just a moment before they found yours once again. His eyes fluttered shut and yours did the same as his lips moved gently against your own. Your hand came up to rest over his, making sure he staid put as you pulled back just a hint so you could steal another kiss, capturing his bottom lip between both of yours, sucking softly and drawing a near-imperceptible sigh out of Reid.

You were completely lost in the moment with him as it finally registered that you were kissing Spencer Reid. You were kissing Spencer Reid. In all the months you’d pined about doing this, all the thoughts that had run rampant about the handsome profiler you were fawning over, this easily topped your highest expectations.

When you and Reid finally pulled away, breathless from just those short moments, the smiles couldn’t be helped. You met each others eyes and your grins widened, both ducking your heads as you processed what had happened. Reid’s hand slowly slid down your cheek, fingers brushing your jaw, thumb lightly tugging against your lip and sending sparks through your body.  

“I, um, I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you admitted softly, shy smile curling over your kiss-swollen lips. As you went to step back, Spencer’s hand fell from your face to wrap over the side of your neck, holding you in place.

“I have too,” he murmured, thumb now brushing lightly over the curve of your throat, drawing a shiver out of you that darkened his eyes instantly. He leaned down, catching your lips in a hard, hungry kiss, worlds different from the tentative ones just moments ago.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and you parted instantly, moaning softly as he took claim over your mouth, hand tightening just a hint against your neck. He tugged back for just a heartbeat, only long enough to catch his breath as he said lowly,

“I’m done waiting, [y/n].” Part 2

[stargazing-dreamer-girl]

This Next Chapter

Part 3 to Nothing Breaks Like a Heart

This is the third and final part. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Not here. Not now. He couldn’t be. She shouldn’t be.

Your first instinct was to go and embrace Jughead. A year’s conditioning kicking in. But you contained yourself and pressed the urge down. That wasn’t something you could do anymore. You were left silently wondering what Jughead was doing there. Had you missed something when you were still together? But then again, you had missed that he had fallen in love with someone else.

Did she know that Jughead was here? Did she know things about his South Side life that he never entrusted you with? Where was she? Maybe she was a Serpent and that was why he was there.

Either way, you couldn’t deal with him right now. Your heart broke a little more at the sight of him. You didn’t even know that was still possible. Just as you started to feel better, he had to pop back up and bring back the memories of that evening.

Jughead was still looking at you. His mind was racing with possible explanations as to why you were at the Whyte Wyrm which was exactly what he had tried to keep from happening. Somewhere deep inside he was happy to see you. His heart had jumped when he first laid eyes on you in that booth, but the more rational part inside him wouldn’t take it. He went through the heartbreak as well. He felt the pain as well. And now what? It was all for nothing! You were here when you were supposed to be on the North Side continuing on with your life!

He had tried to protect you and you apparently had just calmly walked straight into the lion’s den. It was quite infuriating. The plan was to keep you as far as possible from this place and these people.

He couldn’t help but wonder though how it came to be. You sitting next to Sweet Pea. You in the Whyte Wyrm. With Sweet Pea. A surge of jealousy overcame him which he had no right to feel. You were not with him anymore. But you being with Sweet Pea didn’t sit right with him.

There was no other choice. He had to talk to you, even though he didn’t know what he would say. He had to get you away from this place, this life. Ignoring the people who were asking him if he was alright after he had been standing in the same spot for a while staring into seemingly nothing he only had eyes for you as he made his way through the crowd.

“I can’t be here!” you exclaimed as you saw that Jughead was moving towards your booth. You weren’t ready for a confrontation. Not yet. You would break, if you talked to him now, you knew. The voices of the people around you moved into the background as you hastily grabbed your phone and wallet.

He watched you scrambling for your stuff before you jumped up and ran out of the bar. He looked at the door for several more seconds after you had already disappeared again. Maybe, if he just hoped enough, you would appear back through it. But you never did. It was a rather strange encounter, but it left him longing for your company and touch. If he hadn’t realized before how much he missed you, it was clear to him now. With an ache in his chest he could almost feel your skin under his fingertips and your smell in his nose.

You were standing outside, just around the corner where Sweet Pea had parked his bike. The cold evening air sent shivers all over your body. You rubbed your arms in an attempt to produce some warmth that your jacket would offer if you hadn’t forgotten it in your rush to get out of the building.

At the sound of footsteps you squeezed your eyes shut praying that it wasn’t Jughead who had come after you. Anybody would be better. You looked up to the sky and took deep breaths before allowing yourself to look at who had come after you.

To your relief it was Toni who came stepping around the corner, your jacket in her hand, which you gladly took and put on, and a cautious smile on her face. She didn’t even have to ask for you to understand her question.

“Not here. Okay?”

She agreed immediately and offered to take you to her trailer where you could also spend the night. You hadn’t expected this kindness from an almost stranger but were thankful that you received it. Some people seemed to actually care about you after all.

So, you told Toni about everything that had happened between you and Jughead, from your first meeting over the beginning of your relationship to the breakup. Toni listened in silence. Sometimes, when you couldn’t talk anymore or choked on your sobs she took your hand and tried to comfort you. Weirdly enough, her encouragements and talking about it helped. You realized that before today you hadn’t talked to anyone about what happened. You kept it all inside, let it build up until you cracked. That’s why talking about it now was so hard on you. You opened the floodgates you had sealed shut for so long.

But Toni didn’t judge. Not when you needed to stop to get some air, not when you were a sobbing mess on her bed. On the contrary, she made you a hot chocolate and waited patiently for you to tell your story. It’s been a while since you’ve felt that heard.

“When did it happen?” She cautiously asked.

“About two months ago,” you replied, wiping the last tear off your cheek. You assumed you looked much disheveled right now, big red eyes, red cheeks, your hair a royal mess from all the times you went through it while talking. “Why?”

Toni shrugged. She didn’t want to tell you that that was just about the time Jughead had joined the Serpents, that he had never talked about a girl or that he always had this sadness in his eyes she hadn’t known where it came from. She wouldn’t tell you that now. The girl before her was broken and if Toni was wrong in her assumption and told her, she couldn’t forgive herself.

Instead, she kept it to herself and offered you some clothes to sleep in. After all the crying you fell asleep quickly and dreamt about bars and bikes and snakes.

When you woke up the next morning, Toni wasn’t there. You looked around the trailer, if maybe she left a note but there was nothing to be found apart from some clothes that were laid out on the bed. You assumed they were meant for you, so you got dressed and checked your phone. A notification from a few minutes ago was dancing on your screen. It was a text from Sweet Pea who would pick you up in a bit. As you were about to type in a reply, you already heard the roar of his bike outside the trailer.

You grabbed your stuff and left the trailer to be greeted by a smiling Sweet Pea. “Let’s go eat something!” He didn’t allow you to protest, so you got on behind him and he drove away.

That was how you ended up at Pop’s, at your wish. It was never too early for fries and milkshakes.

“You wanna talk about what happened last night?” He asked before he stole one of your fries with a cheeky grin.

You let out a deep sigh but told him what you told Toni yesterday, just a little shorter. It didn’t feel as bad this time. Having talked about it at least once before saw to it that you didn’t end up in tears again. It made you realize that it really would get easier with time and with friends to talk to.

After your tale a heavy feeling laid upon the both of you as you sat in silence but Sweet Pea was quick to dissolve it.

For the rest of the day you drove around with Sweet Pea, joking around and having a great day all around. When he dropped you off at your house in the evening he told you he’d be back in the morning to drive you to school. You tried to convince him that it wasn’t necessary, but he knew that you barely went and wanted to change it. You reluctantly gave in, but when you saw him the next morning you were quite happy that you didn’t have to do this yourself, that he was there for you, figuratively and literally.

That went on for a month. He would pick you up at your house, drive you to school, get you from there again in the afternoon and then you would spend the rest of the day together doing homework, eating at Pop’s, sometimes hanging out with Toni and Fangs. If for some reason he couldn’t be there, one of the others was. You always asked Sweet Pea if you weren’t a burden, if it wasn’t a nuisance driving to the North Side each day for her, but he shook her off every time assuring her that he liked to spend the time with her.

 It was Friday evening. Sweet Pea had come over after your mom had left. Now you were sprawled out over the couch, the giant Sweet Pea taking up most of the space, but you fought for your spot in the corner. His head was turned towards the TV where a movie was running that you hadn’t paid any attention to from the start. He noticed that your mind was not on the movie, so he grabbed the remote and paused it. Before he could ask what was going on you already voiced your thoughts.

“I want to talk to Jughead!”

“Wh- why? What? Why now?”

“I think, I’m ready. I need to speak with him. I need closure.” You tried to explain. “Can you set something up? I… don’t want to text him.” You added quietly. The thought of opening up your old chats with Jugheads scared you. More importantly, the memories and old feelings that might come with it. Sweet Pea asked again if you were certain you wanted to do this, but you weren’t about to back out now. This was what you needed.

So, Sweet Pea set it up and on Sunday afternoon you were seated in a booth at the Whyte Wyrm waiting for Jughead. Your leg wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Hey! You can do this! I’ll be right over by the bar. Just call if you need me!” Sweet Pea assured you. But when Jughead walked through the door and Sweet Pea left you didn’t feel so sure anymore.

Jughead looked like he wanted to go in for a hug when he got to the table but thought better of it, so instead he quietly sat down.

None of you said anything at first. The tension between you felt unfamiliar, unreal, but it was there, painfully sitting upon your shoulders, reminding you of what was and what had happened. You were grasping for the words you had prepared, everything you wanted to say to him but your mind was blank now that he actually sat in front of you.

He spoke your name, making you look up at him. “What are you doing here?” The question threw you off. Wasn’t it obvious what you were doing here?

“I wanted to talk to you after how-” “I don’t mean that! I mean, what are you doing at the Whyte Wyrm? What are you doing with Sweet Pea? This is not your crowd!”

“Well, it is now! Sweet Pea is my friend. He helped me out of… a mess I was in after our breakup.” Talking about it, you just wanted to cry, but you wouldn’t do that now. You would be strong and keep a straight face. Don’t let him know how hard it was for you! Don’t let him know how much it broke you!

“No, you don’t understand!” He took his beanie off in frustration tucking at his dark hair. “You can’t be here! It’s dangerous!”

“I’m not gonna let you tell me where I can or can’t be! This is my life! I can be where I want. I can be with whomever I want. I can be who I want!” You declared. “And I’m not stupid! I’d say I can assess the danger I’m in.”

Jughead groaned and slammed a hand on the table making the people around you turn their heads towards the two of you. At the bar, Sweet Pea already got up from his chair to intervene at any moment, but you gestured to him that you had it handled.

“You just don’t get it! I had to join, but I wanted you out of all of this! I broke up with you to protect you! Do you know what I’ve been through to keep you away from this place? I had to pretend that there’s someone else when I’ve only over loved you!”

“What you’ve been through?” You snapped. “Jughead, for two months after you broke up with me, I was nothing! I was lost! I drank and smoked and took whatever pills people offered me. You broke me! I really thought that I couldn’t live without you, but then Sweet Pea came into my life and he helped me. He made me realize that I don’t need the alcohol or the drugs to live happily, but most importantly, I don’t need you, Jughead! I asked you here, so that maybe we could talk about it, to get some closure, but you know what I realized? I don’t need anything from you anymore, Jug! You might actually have been the greatest mistake of my life. Goodbye!”

You stood and walked over to Sweet Pea. Everything that just happened replayed in your mind. “Fuck, I just did that, didn’t I?” You were surprised by yourself.

“Hell yeah, you did!” Sweet Pea affirmed and pulled you into a much needed hug. “Let’s get out of here!”

You left the bar hand in hand with Sweet Pea leaving Jughead and that chapter of your story behind you.

 That night you kept thinking about the Serpents and Sweet Pea and your life in Riverdale and you came to a conclusion. You had to leave. Start fresh somewhere far away from here. As soon as the thought manifested in your mind you knew it was the right thing to do. You were not running away, no. You were walking towards a new, better life for yourself. Without toxic people and bad habits. It was a chance to start anew, make better choices and think more carefully about who you let into your life and heart.

Telling Sweet Pea might have been the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but he was understanding and supportive. His offer for you to join the Serpents was nice and thoughtful, but it would also mean being around Jughead a lot which wasn’t good for your mental health.

So, when it was time, Sweet Pea brought you to the bus station to see you off into your new adventure. It was only fitting that the guy who pulled you out of the dumps and who you’ve been relying on as a clutch would be there when you took that next step on your own two feet.

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Introvert is punk rock ( Izzy x reader)

A/N : This is fic dedicated to @slashscowboyboots​ which is basically my sis and I can’t describe how much she means to me. ( I hope to have written Izzy right,lol)

You look at yourself in the mirror, checking out your “casual” look : some jeans, a Star Wars T-shirt, a leather jacket and some combat boots. You totally didn’t spend hours just to try to dress as cool as possible but at the same time don’t like this “Omg this date is a super big deal, so I have to dress good” ; well, it was for you, but you didn’t want to scare Izzy away.

You’ve know Izzy for just a couple of weeks, but due your shyness, you haven’t met yet until now. Your talking has been mostly through phone and you tried to hide your introversion the best that you could; people always made you feel “weird” for not liking to be go clubbing or staying out.

Suddenly the doorbell rang and you rushed to open the door : Izzy was standing there, being his beautiful self. As soon as he saw you, he smiled and handed you some flowers.

“I know it’s cliché but I felt like brought them.” He admitted, scratching his head.

“Thanks, it’s such a nice gesture, I really love them !” You replied, feeling quite proud of yourself for being able to talk without blushing.

“Should we go then? I can’t tell you where we are going, tho. It’s a surprise!”

You nodded and prayed silently that he wasn’t taking you to a club or something. You didn’t think that your introvert self could handle such a noisy and crowded place; you loved being with your friends but you also needed your space and your alone time. You really hoped that Izzy, being also a quiet and reserved person, would understand that, even if you haven’t told him anything.

In the car you two didn’t speak, but it was a comfortable kind of silence, with some rock music playing in the background , as Izzy gently took his free hand into yours for a bit. It felt so nice and warm, and for a moment you just wished that you could spend your evening like that : in a car, with some good music, just cuddling a kissing each others, while eating some junk food ordered from a drive through.

But then reality hit hard, as your black-haired date parked his car right in front of a painfully illuminated pub : you could already see people waiting outside, and hear the music blasting loudly. You internally cursed yourself for not having the courage to tell Izzy :” Hey I hate feeling like my head is going to explode or like people have drained all my energy, can we just stay in and watch a movie?”, but now there was no turning back, and you also didn’t want to ruin the mood or embarrass yourself, so you decided to go with the flow and followed Izzy into the club.

You tried to be as calm as you could, while your guitarist was stopped  by his friends or other random people. He always presented you as his date, a big smile plastered on his face, and you were actually surprised to see him that open, opposite to his reserved nature, you would had really enjoyed his attitude if you wasn’t trying to don‘t be overwhelmed by the amount of people or don’t feel tired for keeping up small talks to random people.

After a while you couldn’t handle it anymore , so you  excused yourself and you went to the bathroom. The peaceful silence welcomed you as soon as you put foot into the empty toilet and you tried your best to let it all out for a bit; it was not like you were going to breakdown and cry, but also you needed some quiet, a place where you could just recharge a bit. You just hoped to not ruin this date or that Izzy would get angry at you, you really like him and you didn’t want things to end like this.

What if does he think that I’m just rude? Or that I don’t enjoy being with him? Or…

You heard a knock on the door, then a familiar voice spoke softly.

“Y/N, are you okay there? Is there something wrong?” Izzy asked, concern in his voice.

“I-It’s all okay Izzy, it’s just that I’m not that good at socializing and at being in really crowded place.” You admitted weakly, hoping that he wouldn’t laugh at you.

“Shit, I feel so stupid now!” He replied, still behind the door.

“Why?” You said, as you got up to open the door. Izzy’s beautiful eyes met yours but then you turned your gaze to the floor.

“I hate clubs, too !” He stated with a nervous laugh.

“Then why did you take us here?”

“Because, I wanted to impress you Y/N ! I didn’t want to be the usual introvert who stays at home and watch some movie or talks about music for hours !”

“But I’m also an introverted and I’d love doing that !”

“Then  why didn’t you told me as soon as we get there?” He questioned you, a bit confused.

“Because you’re a rockstar and I didn’t want to seem lame or weird. I didn’t want that you thought that I was a freak and I didn’t want you to laugh at me.” Your eyes were still looking at the floor, when Izzy lift your chin to make you look at him. He smiled a bit then he gave you his hand.

“ Why do we just ditch this place and go get some junk food and then just staying in the car?” He proposed and you energetically shook your head. That sounded almost like heaven !

----

Twenty minutes and two little bags of food later, Izzy parked into a random cinema parking and put music on; then he gestured you to follow him on the roof of the car.

“You’re crazy Stradlin !” you stated but followed him anyway. It was actually a pretty warm night and also the star seemed brighter than usual, -the perfect setup for a kiss!- you thought.

He hugged you as soon you sat down, then you two started to eat; again you two both didn’t say a word for a while, but it was a comfortable silence, a good one. You didn’t need words, but just each other’s company.

“Thanks for being so understandable! I was almost scared to have ruined our date!” You laughed nervously, but deep down you were still a bit terrified of that.

“Oh no, you didn’t ruined it, at all! Also we are not some freaks or something, just enjoy less people and crowded places. That didn’t stop me from be a fucking rockstar, so don’t let tell you people what you should behave or not.” He affirmed firmly.

“Wow, that’s some punk rock speech right there!” You said grabbing an handful of fries.

“You know what else is punk rock?” He asked you with a smirk.

“What?”

He grabbed lightly your face and kissed you softly. You kissed him back with the same pace, then things started to heat up a bit, and you two started to make out; you didn’t stop but enjoyed how things have turned, trying to not thing about how your cheeks were probably red, but just about how the kiss was good and how Izzy was wonderful.

When you two finally pulled off, your cheeks were red as a tomato, but you still managed to do a smile. Your black-haired date gave you a last peck on the lips, before going back into the car.

“I think it’s time to watch a movie.” He calmly said, as he started his car.

“But this time I get to choose !” You said, causing both of you to laugh.

“Deal !” He said, and then hold your hand.

[imaginarybabies]

suitedee​:

An insane number of court-ordered community service hours had left Dickie with a lot of time to think about… well, everything. And he could only contemplate his own personal life while stabbing trash alongside the highway for so long before it got old, so it made sense that he’d raced through an internally philosophical phase for a while. Just didn’t mean that he’d ever figured out what to believe. “I don’t know,” he replied, grin wide as he stared at Turiya’s flaming face. “It could all be a trick of a mind, couldn’t it? Like, some weird consciousness trying to make human beings feel superior by telling us we have an internal purpose, giving us the drive to keep on truckin’. When in reality it’s just electric zaps of synapses firing and random brain electrodes… or something.” He could memorize political speeches, but he’d severely tanked in high school biology. A heavy shrug jerked his shoulders and Dickie shook his head a little. “But I hope we actually have souls. Some kinda unique essence floating around inside each of us…”

His gaze strayed, following the cluster of people as they made it back to their car and settled in to eat, radio cranked to create the hazy sound of indiscernible music filtering back towards the taco truck. “I’ve never tried the chicken here,” he started, expression half-surprised in himself as he blinked back to Turiya. Dickie’s head tilted and he gave the menu a brief glance, pointing out his own order. “I always get beef. The carne asada tacos are bomb. It’s only three to a plate and they’re kinda small, but totally worth it. They do burritos Cali style here, too, though,” he suggested, pointing out that footnote option on the menu as well. “You could have fries wrapped up in the whole deal, if you’re into that.” An enticing up-down wiggle of his brows before he stepped up close to the window and rattled off his usual, additionally asking for a couple beers while holding up two fingers. Dickie looked back expectantly at Turiya, waiting for her to add on what she wanted.

Zip caught back in her fingers again, unconsciously, something to occupy them with that they’d all but sought out themselves. Turiya’s lips were pursed together, deep in thought. “Maybe it’s both”, she offered, a rarity for her to search for middle ground first but here she was for no discernible reason. “Maybe a soul is a zap in the synapses. Or what makes them zap. Both at once.” Sentient electricity, now that was a sick thought. And a title to something. A band, a zine, a poem chapbook, something that when finally used would sound painfully hipster and cringeworthy. “Same. A soul sounds nice.” A mental image at the mention of an essence, of some radioactively bright yellow gas glowing somewhere in the lungs, around the heart. And then the return to the menu, at least for now.

“Carne asada, huh”, she mumbled, loud enough to be at Dickie but distant enough to be just to herself, still scanning the menu for who knows what. Only a short second’s deliberation before deciding to take his word. Both his words, opting for all of the above. “Hm, what are the reviews ‘bout the carne asada Cali burrito then?” Her eyes lifted to Dickie and from him to the guy at the window, tonight’s dealer. “A carne asada burrito please.” 

She reached for her wallet, eyes scanning the place for options on where to sit. Perks of being carless. Pointing at the low wall surrounding the lot on fence duty. “Wanna sit over there?” The evening breeze was brisk but it looked bright enough and with plenty of space for their paper plates and beers. Or so Turiya hoped.

[multipleuniversesinwriting-blog]

Title: Don’t Let it Control You

Warnings: Panic, fear, fire, pain, violence, poor writing attempt to keep a zen like state, does not follow the movies!!

Word Count: 2245

Summary: You are new to Charles’s school for gifted children, and you’re struggling to fit in. When one of your classes goes south very quickly, you’re left in a very… heated situation.

---------------------------------------

The school was big- no doubt- but it took you only a week to find out where all your classrooms were, how to get to your room from each one, and knowing exactly where the bunker was. Everyone seemed generally nice (course there were those punk students who were jerks just to be jerks) and overall you were faring much better in this school than you had been in the real world. Here it was easier to find your ‘zen’- or your center calm that kept you from obliterating everyone within a twenty mile radius… terrifying.

You were sitting in your third period class, Mr. Logan currently teaching on about how to analyze a situation and not pull a ‘Wolverine’ and jump head in with all brawn and no brain. You personally thought that he probably wasn’t the best to teach about such a subject- but kept quiet. You were here to learn, not correct the teacher.

Anyways, you were sitting peacefully somewhere in the middle of the room, staring at the board as you absentmindedly doodled on your notepad, only glancing down once in awhile to make it seem like you were taking notes. Someone tapped your shoulder and you glanced over, raising and eyebrow slightly as you silently questioned the student who had gotten your attention. Michael- a man who you didn’t know very well, but had heard he was one of those jerks for fun. He looked forward before tossing a note to you, and you quickly grabbed it, making sure Logan wasn’t watching you before you looked back down, quietly opening the note.

After class I want to talk to you in the hall, something important.

It read, and your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes darting over to him before you folded the note up and then crumpled it in your hand, barely nodding. Why the hell would he want to talk to you? You two only knew each other’s names and that was about it- nothing romantic or platonic in that whole situation. You focused back on the class, doodling some more before the bell rang, Logan letting you guys go with a ‘Just don’t be like me.’

You packed your items away, zipping up your messenger bag and throwing the strap onto your shoulder as you reached into the side pocket facing the front, fingers brushing against the canteen of water you had there. You watched everyone file out of the room- murmuring a goodbye to Logan before heading out yourself after the crowd. The hall was slightly crowded, and you instantly noticed Michael two feet to the right, talking to his buddies.

You felt your anxiety begin to creep up and closed your eyes, taking a deep slow breath to reach a peace of mind before opening your eyes and heading over to him, nodding slightly as you looked between the four of them. Michael sent a sickeningly sweet smile your way and you took a step back, hand gripping the strap of your bag as you swallowed thickly.

“What did you have to say Michael? I have to get to my next class.” You said, your voice soft but firm, no sign of hesitance or fear or anxiety that you felt with being in his presence. Michael stuck his chin out to his friends real quick before they looked to you, Michael putting his hands in his pockets.

“You’re new here yea- about a week?” He said, and you nodded, rolling your shoulders to help the strap settle better. “Alright- cool cool. So I assume you had to show off to Professor Charles too right?” Another nod. “Cool, sweet. So, I was curious. What exactly are you here for? Is your mutation being a zen child with a stick up her ass?” He asked, and you ignored his snarky comment as his friends laughed, focusing on keeping calm inside and out as you waited for them to stop laughing.

“I control fire.” More like it controls me. You thought, but didn’t tell them that. Michael’s eyebrows shot up and he genuinely looked interested- if only for a moment.

“Really? What a coincidence! I just so happen to control water!” He said, and you nodded slightly, suddenly conscious about the fact that there was water on your person. “Here- I’ll even give you a demonstration.” He said, and your water canteen shot out into his hand, and he unscrewed it, the water shooting out of it and floating in the air.

“Cool- Can i have my water and canteen back? I really have to go.” You said, heart beginning to pick up in speed slightly. You always had that water on you in case your powers ever got… out of hand.

“Sure, here ya go.” He said, and then your shirt was soaked, sticking to your skin as he tucked the canteen back into the pocket- pressing you up against the wall as he raised an eyebrow. “But first, I want a demonstration- or did my own demonstration puff yours out?” He asked lowly, and your heart continued to pick up in speed- your breath hitching slightly as you looked around wildly. Most students seemed to be ignoring what was going on, and you didn’t see any teachers around.

“Please- back off and l-leave me alone.” You said, and he hummed slightly, resting a hand against the wall as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Oh- I think I get it. You don’t control fire, it controls you.” He said, and your eyes darted around wildly again, trying desperately to look for a way out of the situation. That seemed to confirm his suspicions, and he nodded as if disappointed. He pushed off the wall, taking a step away from you, and rested a hand on your shoulder, his friends casually leaning up against the wall beside you.

“Well, I still wanna see a demonstration you know? I want to know just how powerful you really are.” He said, fingers digging into your shoulder painfully. You flinched and finally lost your grip on your emotions, fear and anxiety raising their heads and filling you up. Michael hissed and tore his hand away, your body temperature having just suddenly shot up. His friends pushed off the wall and you began to sweat, trying to turn to leave.

Your bag was ripped off your shoulder and you spun around- determined not to lose another one of your items despite your state of mind. By now students were beginning to gather around, and your skin seemed to be glowing a soft orange, nerves feeling as if they’ve been fried. Your body was hurting terribly, but you looked like you were in a bind. Michael held up your bag and you whimpered slightly, eyes screwing shut as another heat wave ran through your body, throbbing once before leaving your body- the people closest to you beginning to sweat.

“G-give me my bag b-back! Please!” You choked out, and when Michael handed it off to one of his friends your legs buckled, your hands slapping into the ground as you cried out in pain, your skin seeming to crawl as the glow brightened for a moment. Michael paused, actually debating on whether or not to give you your bag left so you could leave, before shoving his hands back in his pockets.

“Come on! Just one little demonstration and you can get your bag back and go!” He said cheerfully, and there was a smell of burning clothes- and you cried out again, body snapping backwards as you sat on your heels, hands darting up to your neck and scratching there, as if you were try to pry out the heat to make you comfortable. Michael and everyone else took a step back and your hair went up in flames, being replaced by the flames and not actually burning your skin- but it sure felt like it. Your head snapped down and you stared at Michael- body tensing as you tried to hold in the heat wave. Your eyes looked like they had fires dancing in the pupils, and somewhere someone was shouting for people to move.

“Run.” You choked out before the heat wave shot out of your body, your head snapping back as your arms shot out, your screams carrying through the halls as you seemed to be engulfed in flames, the fire sticking to you before beginning to shoot outwards. Other kids screamed as your nerves were engulfed with pain, and your body convulsed at the sudden output of heat- eyes rolling into the back of your head before you sagged and passed out on the floor- your body shutting down almost completely.

When you woke you were in the lab, body submerged into a water tank, your head not in the water. You let out a whimper and heard the sound of moving equipment before Charles came into view, stopping beside the tank as he looked you over once.

“Charles.” You muttered, and then the shame flooded in. You looked away, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down- slightly watching as Hank worked around you, doing whatever he had been doing while you rested in the tank.

“(Y/n).” Charles said, and you reluctantly looked back to him, wiggling your fingers and your toes. By the feel you were in one of your old thick tshirts and a loose pair of sweats, coverage but not hugging your skin- at least not in the tank. He was watching you carefully- watching in your eyes as you slowly began to pick up the pieces and put them back together, beginning to calm down again.

“I’m sorry Professor- I screwed up again and-” You looked up to the ceiling, taking a long breath. He waited, knowing you weren’t done quite yet. When you looked back over to him you noticed his hair was tousled- as if from running his hand through it. “How many were hurt?” You whispered, and he shook his head, lips parting to answer right away.

“No- no. Don’t trouble yourself with that (Y/n).” He said, and you let out a bitter laugh, eyebrows furrowing as you pushed yourself up a little bit, hands coming up to grip the edge of the tank as you lifted yourself up, shirt falling down and hugging your body parts out of the water.

“Don’t trouble myself with that?” You barked, the water beginning to warm up. “I hurt people! My powers- it was me!!” You said, the water beginning to bubble and boil. Soothing tendrils wrapped around your mind and you closed your eyes- breathing heavily out of your nose as your knuckles turned white from gripping the edges of the tank.

You are fine, and everyone else is fine. One of the students was able to put a shield around you- keeping the blast contained. Calm down.

His voice in your head was calming, and your fingers loosened their hold on the tank, Hank letting out the breath he had been holding in. You took your time breathing- Charles murmuring soothing words in your head as you began to relax fully.

The sound of heels slapping against the floor made your eyes open, and Charles made sure you were in your zen state before turning to face the person who had just entered the lab. You looked over, slowly pushing yourself out of the tank and standing in it, water dripping off you as you watched Mystique come forward, your bag in hand, and someone with her. Michael walked beside her- looking ashamed- and you looked away, gritting your teeth as you stared at the water, watching it ripple and move as you shifted the weight on your legs.

“I have your bag, and he’s come to apologize.” She said, and you let the water against your clothes and legs calm you down- keep you calm.

“He doesn’t apologize. He’s a douche with an ego the size of the Eiffel Tower… men, boys, like him don’t change after one short lecture on behavior. I don’t want a fake apology from him- I don’t want to talk to him ever again unless it’s me putting him in his place.” You said, taking a small breath.

“Leave Michael.” Charles said, and you looked up to watch Michael look from him to you- before turning and leaving. You relaxed immensely and heaved yourself over the side of the tub, feeling exposed in the tshirt and sweats. You pried the shirt off your skin, holding it out to try and decrease your discomfort. Mystique held your bag out and you grabbed it with a small thank you, listening as the water dripped onto the ground.

“Can I just have a change of clothes and go to my room? I’m tired and sore and in pain and I don’t want to see anyone today.” You mumbled, staring down at the puddle beneath your bare feet.

“Come on, I’ll walk with you.” Mystique said, and you nodded, pausing by Charles to hesitantly rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” And I’m going to be sorry no matter what. You thought, removing your hand and heading towards Mystique, who began walking beside you back to your dorm.

You need not be afraid of it- don’t let it control you. You control it. He spoke, and you didn’t react physically- tears pricking at your eyes as you left the room.

I wish I did.