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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 15

first time reader - click here

TW/SUMMARY: Is bad humour a trigger? Cards against humanity. Loki in the wild. Chaotic Tony, chaotic Reader. Team bonding, a gag chapter lmao

My beta is babey 🥺 @miscmarvelwritings

If someone had bothered to ask me what kind of relationship I had with Tony, it would've made my brain glitch. In the weeks we spent fucking, sciencing and hanging out with the Avengers, it never once crossed my mind. We had fun and it was easy. Unlike both of our lives, it didn't require much mental energy for us to get what we wanted from each other. For me, it was easier to ignore my skin aching for Tony when he was already spending so much time on me. I wasn't sure if it would ever be enough, really, so taking exactly as much as he was giving was my best bet.

We built things in his workshop with Pete by our side and it wasn't awkward. The spiderling said he was happy as long as we were happy and didn't mind it too much when Tony got handsy. The man had at least some morals and stuck to kisses, ass-slaps and lewd comments which made Peter snort and fake-retch sure, yet the boy never displayed any real discomfort. It was endearing. He really became the little brother I never thought I would have.

The sex was fantastic, to say the least. We fucked on just about every flat surface on the residential floors. Steve caught us once, although I am almost hundred percent sure Tony staged it all on purpose. The good Captain didn't even blush, instead just silently closed the door behind him as I stared in his face, gripping Tony's head with my thighs.

The weather grew dreary yet both of my parents still stayed out of New York. Mother went back to Canada and dad continued his never-ending party on the West Coast, conquering California and living his best life. My house was dark and cold, and I started hanging around the tower more often than ever. If I wasn't with Tony, I was busy catching up Wanda and Bucky on pop culture, teaching Thor how to bake cakes and doing other meaningless, domestic stuff. The Avengers tower bustled with life at all hours and there always was someone...

I never felt lonely. It was such an unusual experience. Comfort and reassurance was always one room away. Be it Thor with his gratuitous amount of physical affection or his brother's incredibly witty, dark humor, I never had to stay one-on-one with my thoughts for too long.

Personally witnessing Bruce's coming out of his shell was the highlight of my life, no lie. I was so used to the quiet, mousy Banner that my brain refused to acknowledge his amazing sense of humour at first; I wasn't sure if he was joking or ... Or what? Truth to be told, Brucie-bear was as snarky as Tony,Loki and Stephen. The sorcerer had started visiting more often too, under the guise of tutoring Wanda, but all of us saw the way he lingered in the communal areas after their study time came to an end.

If loneliness was a sickness then the tower's inhabitants and frequent visitors were beginning their recovery journey.

"Have you guys heard about Cards Against Humanity?" I asked one evening once the movie credits began rolling. Wanda was squished into my side with her legs in her brother's lap; Clint laying atop both siblings like the trash bag that he was. And I meant it fondly.

On the other side of me, I had Bucky and Loki, who had begun to discuss their respective collections of sharp and pointy things once they deemed the movie lacked action. Legally Blonde and action, did they really think..? Nevermind.

"Yes, and if you're offering, the answer is yes," Clint mumbled, reaching for his second pack of Cheetos.

We gathered in a circle as I brought the shoebox that had the original deck plus a couple of expansions. This was beginning to look interesting. "So, I have the special Avengers edition right there..."

"Say no more," Clint even abandoned his snacks. "But I'mma put on the episode of Lucifer I missed. Multitasking," He winked, wrestling the remote from Pietro. We waited patiently as they finished the obligatory round of horsing before settling down for the game.

I explained the rules of the game, choosing to disregard Loki's scoffing and Wanda's doubt about the quality of the humor in the game. We played a few rounds with me explaining some of the deeper pop culture references. At a point where all of us were engrossed, laughing and poking fun at each other, more of the Avengers parked themselves on the couch.

Stephen, Tony and Bruce evidently had been sciencing, all three men having had their safety goggles perched forgotten atop their heads. Sam, Natasha and Steve - probably sparring. All three of them brought the smell of soap and laundry detergent to the room. All of the newcomers observed us with mild interest, periodically glance at the TV.

It was Wanda's turn to be the card Czar. I had to take a moment to finish my last giggling fit.

"Okay, the white card goes..." She paused dramatically. "I never truly understood blank until I encountered blank." With that, she poked the timer app on her phone. The sixty second countdown began.

I did a quick inventory check. Then I snorted. I had to quickly stuff two knuckles in my mouth, biting down, to attempt to silence the hysterical fit of laughter I was on the brink of. Loki was definitely going to stab me but the opportunity was too good to pass. No fear, we die like men.

"Ooh, she's got something," Clint teased, having noticed my shaking shoulders.

The timer beeped. Naturally, Loki went first. He wore a mildly disgusted smirk. "I never truly understood parting the red sea until I encountered third base," The trickster caved and began chuckling.

Somewhere behind me, Sam and Tony began cackling while Stephen and Steve groaned loudly in mild distaste.

"Press F to pay respects," Pietro clapped Loki on the shoulder with a sympathetic chuff. "I raise you - I never truly understood licking things to claim as your own until I encountered the clitoris," The young avenger struggled through laughter, followed by everyone else this time.

"That's a keeper, ladies," Sam's rich baritone quipped.

I laughed along, inwardly preparing for the inevitable. "Yikes," I whispered, side-eyeing Loki. "I never truly understood daddy issues..." I trailed off, hearing Bucky and Steve beginning to tease Tony. "... Until I encountered Loki, the trickster God."

The room drowned in a sea of laughter, Tony and Clint busting a gut so hard they fell over. Said trickster God was less than amused, however, glaring in my direction with the force of a pissed off bee swarm.

"Ow, that's cold, Princess, that's just cold," Clint squeezed out.

"Loki," I abandoned my stack of cards, crawling over Pietro and Bucky on all fours, settling prettily on my knees in front of Loki. Making my very best puppy eyes. "I love you, with all my cold black heart. And you're technically the patron saint of fun and shit, so that means you must approve of this very clever joke," I pouted, batting my eyelashes.

"Baby girl, I think you're laying it on too thick," Tony gasped, slumping on the couch, holding his sides. Everyone kept laughing, now at my feeble attempt at placating the upset Loki.

Who, by the way, looked a bit spooked. Subtly but surely, the raven-haired Asgardian leaned away from me.

"Don't be mad, I'm too cute to be mad at," I finally snorted, pat-pat-patting him on the shoulder. "It's okay, you can join my club. We have hot old dudes and cookies."

That broke it. First, the corner of his mouth twitched. Then, Loki looked away. I saw the storm before it crashed; with a weird noise of his own and his cheeks puffed out, Loki joined in on the shit-fest, howling full volume and doubling over. I followed suit, until all of us were writhing around on the floor. We'd stop and then someone would make another remark and it would go into another round again.

"Menace," Loki scoffed at me, smiling. "And for the record, the hottest old dude, as you put it, would be me." That said, he went back to calmly waiting for his next turn. "I'm about a thousand years old."

"Thor's older," Bruce noted thoughtfully.

Loki scoffed. "That man cannot chew with his mouth shut. If that's considered attractive, I'm leaving this forsaken planet."

That struck a thought within me. One that was brewing a long time, to be honest. "Thor is the god of himbos," I said with the same tone as "Eureka!".

"Shit, you're right," Sam exclaimed, following with another, weaker fit of laughter meanwhile Bruce had to be the one explaining the term to the poor, poor, clueless members of the Avengers.

I need to find a way to award them some kind of points for learning the gen-z lingo. "Patrick" stars maybe, since they lived under a fucking rock?

"Princess, never a boring day with you around. You don't half-ass this shit," Tony's warmth reached me as he shuffled around on the couch, sitting directly behind me. I leaned my back against his legs.

"I'm not a clown," I shot back. Tony stiffened. Dramatically flailing my hand I announced: "I am the whole god-damn circus!"

As the game progressed, we found out that Clint was That Guy - meaning, the dude every CAH group had, the one who grossly overused the "Bees?!" card and made Star Wars references whenever humanly possible. The only even slightly funny joke was about a lightsaber up the ass, in the end all of us finding out that Bucky knew a little too much about modern sex toys - "Hey, I saw one on Amazon, I'll send you the link, Birdman" - to Steve's open-mouthed horror.

What Loki lacked in references he made up in wit. The play on "During sex, I like to think about genetically engineered supersoldiers" had Bucky scrambling to switch places with Wanda whilst Loki himself was attempting to shoot bedroom eyes at Steve. It was a mess.

Bucky's own play had Steve abandon all pretense at being in any way appropriate as he struggled for air. "The Avengers new rules prohibit using Mjölnir as a dildo." Me and Tony became somewhat of a messy guffawing octopus of limbs for a moment after the super-soldier said it.

"Don't. Tell. Thor!" Strange gritted out, hiding his laughter behind a palm, uncharacteristically having lost his stuffy attitude. By god's will the man was attractive when he smiled.

As time ticked, each one of the starting players had attracted a newcomer. There weren't enough cards for everyone to play (Tony had, of course, ordered additional ones but they wouldn't arrive until the next day) so people kind of whispered and pointed at what they thought would fit.

Natasha conspired with Wanda, Sam went to his bird-bro, Bruce was forcefully dragged by Bucky to his side. Surprisingly, Steve teamed up with Loki which made Pietro stick his nose up in the air and promptly declare he needed no backup.

I already had Tony on my side. The genius wasn't of much help, however, he simply annoyed me out of my skull by randomly giggling and making immature jokes. It should've alarmed me that Stephen was eager to join me and Tony - usually he just butted heads with anyone who had any opinion whatsoever.

I was left bewildered upon discovering the wizard liked drama as much as the Kardashian clan and was quite competitive at causing the most shit.

My clown crown felt threatened.

"This one," Tony poked at a card in my hand.

"If you think that's funny, your intellect is obviously overestimated." Stephen dismissively waved a hand. "This one," It was unmistakable whom the trembling finger belonged to. It pointed at a card on the other side.

"Wizards are just hilarious," Tony seeped sarcasm.

"Try me, Beyonce," Stephen murmured darkly.

That was just background noise to me. I had all my undivided attention on the TV, my last two functioning brain cells focused on the scene unfolding right in front of me. The Lucifer episode, the devil and his insatiable thirst for honey. The timer buzzed but I was still drawn towards Tom Ellis dipping two of his fingers first in the honeypot, then in his mouth, all the while looking like a damn snack himself. Illegal. I've never simped so hard for a fictional character.

A golden glow snatched a card out of my grasp, levitating it.

"Girl, what the hell?" Wanda saw my face and attempted to revert me back to earth. "Someone turn off the TV, there's not enough water in the tower to quench her thirst."

"Hey, did you two just - don't ignore me!" Tony whined, managing to tug on my hair and attempt to reach for the card now held in Stephen's grasp, simultaneously.

"I don't blame her," Clint mused. "That right there is one very fine dude."

I shook my head, clearing any untoward thoughts. Focus. "First of all, Bird, you're a dude. That there," I pointed up at the TV. "Is a man. A Man." I emphasised, getting a jealous poke in the back from Tony. "Second of all..." I turned towards Stephen. "The quaffle, the snitch and the AUDACITY OF THIS BITCH!" The last of my sentence was pitched. The sorcerer had raised his arm, clutching the card, and I struggled to reach it.

"What... What did you just say?" Stephen was laughing, not at all phased by me climbing him like a tree to take hold of what's mine. Tony was actively helping - or, trying to. One-handed. The other hand attempted to snatch the rest of the cards from my grasp.

"And that's an F on teamwork," Bucky's sarcasm was complemented by Steve's famous Captain America Is Disappointed In You look.

"Uhh... Guys? What's going on?" Peter's timid voice leaked confusion.

"Hello, friends," Thor boomed, drowning out the boy's questioning noises.

"We're playing a game. Cards Against Humanity."

Wordlessly, Peter towed Thor along with him to find a spot amongst us. And even if Thor didn't get any of the references, he still was good fun. His laugh was infectious. The way he cheered for every winner was incredibly wholesome. Golden space puppy. The urge to immediately pet Thor and give him endless pop-tarts was strong in me.

Loki was one dramatic, vengeful bitch. "Women get turned on by the Devil himself"? I was ready to throw hands with the trickster. Everybody's laughter drowned out any cursing I might or might have not directed towards Loki who looked far too satisfied with himself. I was going to substitute the sugar for his tea with salt one day, mark my words.

I wouldn't admit it over my dead body, but the way he got back at me for the daddy issues joke was kinda funny. Okay, very funny. It was fucking hilarious. I admire a clever man.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader #avengers team x reader fluff

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beanie-beebo-writes · 3 years ago

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It follows

Series Summary: Reader is running from financial problems and his/her studies, will they catch up with him/her? Charlie's close friends (none other than Sam and Dean) go to check up on the reader due to Charlie becoming worried for him/her. Trouble pursues, as the reader wants to keep silent about his/her struggles.

Warnings: None

Masterlist

Chapter 15

Dean tossed the impala keys onto the small side table and instantly called dibs on a laptop. Sam shook his head and smirked, knowing well that his brother didn't want to be stuck with a load of large books. You chuckled with amusement and stifled a yawn.

"So I assume we are hitting the lore again?" You asked, still unsure of how hunting worked in the real world.

Sam looked at you, slightly puzzled. "Uh.. yeah. Unless you know a way to kill a Kumiho."

"Not in the slightest, this one is a new one for me." You said.

It was Dean's turn to look at you, as Sam was getting settled.

"You seem pretty chill about monsters.. How is that?" Dean asked.

You quickly pondered; telling them about the books would probably be a bit intrusive, especially if they didn't know. Even if they weren't a hundred percent accurate, having something written about you without your knowledge is a little upsetting.

"I mean, I've always had an interest for the supernatural," you internally cringed at that comment, "so I guess I don't scare too easy?"

"Makes sense." Dean shrugged, returning to his research.

"Hey (Y/N), you can continue on the computer from earlier, I think I'll hit the solid lore." Sam offered.

"No, actually, I think I should try to get some rest. I haven't had a lot of it lately, and... I actually feel pretty safe with you guys." You admitted with a yawn.

Sam briefly looked over to Dean with a wide smile on his face. "Oh, okay. I can use both the other laptop and the books then, awesome; more coverage."

You mustered a small smile back and headed to your small bag of belongings. Even though you rarely missed the past, you couldn't help but long for comfort. You never really bothered packing pjs or lounge clothes when you bolted from college, since it would be more to carry. You had figured the few pair of clothes you threw together would suffice at the time, not thinking you would ever feel comfy anywhere again.

"Hey, um, do you want to borrow some clothes? I normally don't offer, but, I mean, it seems like you're kind of low on options." Dean said.

"Could I have a pair of sweats, maybe? If not, I'll just sleep in what I have on." You replied.

"Lucky for you, I always carry around a pair, just in case I want some extra comfort." Dean said with a wink.

Your face burned slightly from embarrassment, but you accepted his offer gratefully. You were so caught up in your emotions, you missed the small exchange of facial expressions the brothers were throwing at each other.

"We'll be right here if you need anything else, (Y/N)." Sam said.

"Thanks guys, seriously." You said, snuggling into the covers.

The brothers replied with short affirmations as you slowly drifted off to a long awaited, sound sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam and Dean both smiled to themselves as you blissfully slept, occasionally checking your sleeping form, just to make sure all was well. For a while, all that filled the room was the sounds of pages turning, and the occasional click of a mouse. Serenity was never really something the Winchesters had much experience with, so they tended to make the most of small moments like this. Although, this felt different. They were protecting someone practically around the clock, someone other than each other. They never really had the opportunity to see someone living their life easier because of them, not in action at least. This was a whole new awakening; one that made them realize that maybe their job was worth all of the pain.

"I'm really proud of you, you know." Sam said, not looking up from his laptop screen.

Dean looked up in sheer confusion. "For what?" He asked.

"You completely opened up to (Y/N). I know housing and protecting someone other than me isn't really on your to-do list, and it really means a lot." Sam explained.

"I know." Dean said with a smirk.

And then, it suddenly dawned him. The eldest Winchester was starting to feel something he hadn't truly felt in a while, remorse.

"Hey Sam," Dean started awkwardly, "you know… I do care. I just... hate having more things on my plate than.. I already have."

"I know." Sam said, being sure to make eye contact with his brother.

A couple hours flew by, and the Winchesters strangely couldn't find anything on how to kill the creature. It was beginning to take a toll on Dean, who already disliked research as it was.

"Ugh, I think I'm gonna call Bobby." Dean grumbled.

Despite the visible exhaustion, his brother still clicked away on the computer.

"Good idea, because I've got nothing over here." Sam said.

Dean rang the older hunter, turning down the volume after he put it on speaker. After several rings, a voice mumbled groggily on the other end.

"Hey, Bobby. Um, sorry to wake ya.. But we're digging into a stone well over here, think you could help us out?"

Bobby sighed into the phone and audibly shuffled out of bed. "What is it this time?" He asked.

"We believe it's a Kumiho, some sort of fox-like creature from Japan. We've been researching for hours, but we haven't struck anything." Sam said.

"A Kumiho, huh? That's a new one. What do you need me to help you figure out?" Bobby asked.

"A way to kill it. It doesn't seem to have any visible weaknesses, at least from what we've come across." Dean said.

"Alright, give me a while to wake up here, and I'll get back to you whether I find something or not. Sound good?" He said.

"Sure," Sam said, "we can catch a couple hours of rest in the meantime."

"Sleep well boys."

"Thanks Bobby."

Dean closed his flip phone and stretched his stiff limbs; Sam followed suit. They both glanced at your peaceful form, which had stilled hours ago. The sight alone made Sam smile.

"You know, it doesn't just mean a lot to (him/her), it means a lot to me too." Sam said.

"What." Dean said.

"Supporting (him/her)."

Dean smirked, patted his brother's back, and headed into the bathroom with his duffle. As Sam waited for him to finish his nightly routine, he watched over you, finally understanding the feeling his brother felt his whole life.

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

You were startled awake to the shrills of a cell phone. You rubbed your eyes, feeling disoriented. You had no idea how long you had been out, but it was the best you had felt in ages. It made you feel... warm.

"Yeah, here, I'll put you on speaker." Dean said, making you shift your attention to the current situation.

"Turns out there isn't really a known way to kill it, but you can trap it, I think." A gruff voice said through the cell phone.

"You can't kill it, of course. Tell us what you found out about it then?" Sam asked groggily.

"The lore says it's a creature that came about from great longevity or a long accumulation of energy. The Kumiho can only lose its form and turn human with enough will, which makes this hard. Supposedly there are two ways you can 'end' the kumiho. You can obtain a jewel called a chintamani, and make sure the Kumiho sees the full moon monthly.Or you can take an easier route, which involves the creature not killing or eating meat for a thousand days." The man explained.

"And the second option is easier how exactly?" Dean asked.

"It says the chintamani is a single stone, which is kind of hard to get. You have to go to the dragon-king of the sea, who is also known as Makara. Since we have two options here, I say you go for the one that is more obtainable first." He said.

"This is going to be loads of fun." You mumbled.

A tense silence followed, causing you to instantly regret speaking.

"Is there someone else there with you two? I could have sworn I heard another voice." The voice asked.

"Oh. Yeah, we were going to bring it up eventually. We kind of took in another helper, (his/her) name is (Y/N)." Dean said.

"You what?" He yelled.

"Hold on a second Bobby, I'll explain everything." Sam said, looking at Dean.

Dean gladly handed the angry man over to Sam and stayed silent until his brother was outside of the room. You looked at Dean questionably as he went to sit on the bed.

"Who was that?" You asked.

"That was a hunter friend of ours, Bobby. Well, actually, he's more like a father figure to us. He means well." Dean said.

"He didn't really seem too happy to hear about me." You mumbled.

Dean cautiously put a hand on your thigh and looked into your glimmering eyes.

"(Y/N), we will work all of this out, okay? We aren't getting rid of you, not any time soon." Dean reassured.

"Even if he doesn't approve of me?"

"I'm pretty sure he will approve of you, (Y/N). He just needs to get warmed up to you, that's all. And even if he doesn't, we still approve."

You gave him a watery smile and almost ended up hugging him again. Dean must have seen the hesitation, because he carefully brought you into his arms. You could easily get used to it, the smell of cheap soap and deodorant, with a hint of gunpowder and whiskey. It surprised you; he was warmer than you ever thought he would be, at least for a hunter. He felt like home, he felt safe. Dean briefly rubbed your back and broke away before it could probably feel too awkward.

"You good?" He asked.

"Yeah, I think so." You said with a smile.

"Okay good, because I'm not very good with these chick flick moments." He replied.

"That seemed pretty good to me." You said.

Before the tension could thicken, Sam closed the motel door behind him and gave Dean back his phone.

"I settled it out with Bobby, everything's good, at least I think." Sam said. "He said he wants to stop by in the morning, just so we can pair up evenly."

"I'm surprised he isn't headed here now, knowing him." Dean commented.

"He probably is, but he actually did sound like he could use some rest. I'll take him for his word this time." Sam said.

"I say we get some more sleep then, because we'll probably be out hunting this thing all evening. Unless if something else comes up, with our luck." Dean said.

You yawned in response and nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

For once, you all slept until the sun rose the next morning, completely undisturbed.

#spn fanfic #spn x reader #spn reader insert

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chipper9906 · 4 years ago

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Bound To You - Chapter 5: Different Ways To Fall

<- - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 8,698

Overall Word Count: 34,834

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (5/?)

Chapter Preview:

Getting back into the wheelchair from the Impala was about as fun as getting out of the wheelchair – but at least this time he didn’t end up face-first on the floor, so... Dean considered that an improvement.

Sam walked ahead of him, leading them out of the garage and to the main entrance, pushing the heavy door open and holding it there for Dean to roll through. The door closed behind them with its familiar clang of locks settling back into place, and Sam stepped up to Dean’s side before freezing in place, the two of them staring at the impossibly long looking metal stairs of the bunker.

“...Dammit.”

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

* * *

Dean Winchester glared at the wheelchair they wheeled in for him like it was his worst enemy.

‘Unless you plan to drag yourself everywhere you go Dean, you’re going to have to accept the wheelchair.’

Dean huffed at the sensible words Cas was speaking into his mind, crossing his arms in the hospital bed like a child throwing a tantrum.

‘Doesn’t mean I have to like it.’

‘And I wouldn’t expect you to. I’m only asking that you accept the fact that it’s a necessity for any sense of freedom in your life.’

‘Freedom? Trapped to a chair? How’s that freedom?’

‘Better than being bedbound, is it not?’

Castiel was one hundred percent right, but it’s not like Dean was going to admit that.

Doctor Sullivan stepped into the room, scribbling away at some forms atop a wooden clipboard in his hands. “Alright, Mr. Winchester… You are officially free from our confines.” He finished signing something on the paper, looking up to Dean with an encouraging smile. “I see you still haven’t given the wheelchair a try?”

“I’m a bit worried it’s gonna ruin my look, Doc. Not really my style.”

“I think the wheelchair is a better look than me and Doctor Sullivan carrying you out here by your feet,” Sam pushed himself out of the chair he was sat in, stepping over to where they placed the wheelchair and wheeling it closer to Dean’s bedside. “C’mon, Dean. Just give it a try.”

‘You said it yourself that you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know I did… Stop using my own words against me.’

‘If you’d really rather not do it, I could take over and get you into the chair. Doctor Sullivan would have to leave the room of course, or at least be distracted while I take over so he doesn’t see the flare of my grace in your eyes.’

‘Nah, it’s… As much as I don’t wanna do it, this is something I gotta do, you know?’

‘Of course, Dean. I understand.’

“So… how do I do this?” Dean directed his question towards Doctor Sullivan, glancing over the bed to the chair beside him. “Would be embarrassing if I fall on my ass trying to get out of bed…”

“You’re going to be relying on your arm strength, mostly,” Doctor Sullivan bent over the wheelchair, applying the brakes on the underside of the chair.

“Got plenty of that,” Dean’s comment elicited quite the snort from Sam, who respectfully hid his laughter behind his sleeve.

“I’ve applied the brakes for you, here-,” Doctor Sullivan pointed to the brakes he had just fiddled with. “You’ll have to disengage them before you move, otherwise – well – you won’t move.”

“Got it.”

“Now, with time, your arm strength is going to improve. Don’t feel disappointed if you can’t do much at once – it’s quite the shock to your arms when they’re used to shift your entire body weight constantly.” Doctor Sullivan said as he stepped to the end of the bed, placing his hands under Dean’s calves. “I’m going to help you turn yourself, okay? I need you to turn yourself, so you’re sat on the edge of the bed with your legs just hanging off the end.”

“Okay…” Dean got his arms behind him, pulling himself up. It was significantly easier with Doctor Sullivan holding his legs up, gently guiding him as he pulled himself inch by inch closer to the edge of the bed. He could already feel his biceps twinging in protest with every movement, chest heaving with the exertion of pulling his entire weight.

“That’s the first step done,” Doctor Sullivan declared once he was at the edge of the bed, gently lowering Dean’s legs down so they were just hanging over the edge. “Now, this is going to be easier to do since the bed is about the same height as your wheelchair. Hopefully, it’ll be the same at your home – otherwise you may need to rely on your brother or another carer to get you in and out of bed.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” Dean already hated the prospect of being such a burden on his brother, especially for something as simple as getting into bed. “I guess I just pull myself into the chair…”

“Essentially, yes.” Doctor Sullivan agreed. “You just need to brace yourself with one arm on the handle, then pull your body over and lower yourself onto the wheelchair. Again, I must repeat how important it is to keep the brakes applied at this stage, otherwise you risk seriously injuring yourself.”

Dean followed the doctor’s instructions, reaching out with his right hand to grab hold of the armrest of the wheelchair. He used his other hand to push himself over to the chair, damn near sitting on the hand he was using the brace himself. It was more of a staggering fall into the seat than it was a graceful descent, but Dean could at least take some pride in the fact that he landed in the somewhat comfortable chair and not on the hard plastic floor of the hospital room.

“And that’s all there is to it!” Doctor Sullivan exclaimed joyfully. “Same kind of method for getting into the bed, and for chairs, things like that.”

Doctor Sullivan reached into his lab-coat pocket, pulling out a few colorful pamphlets and handing them over to Sam. “Any questions you might have, these should help to answer some of them. Plenty of advice in them too, such as exercises Dean can partake in to help strengthen his arm strength and core; things that’ll help make the transition easier.”

“Ah yes, pamphlets. The answers to all my problems,” Dean stuffed as much sarcasm into the words as he could, smiling mockingly up at the two of them.

‘Dean… he’s just trying to help.’

‘You know, you’re slowly turning into my conscience, Cas. Somehow, hearing it through your voice makes me feel more guilty than if it was my own damn voice.’

‘Good to know I’m of some use up here, then.’

“I have plenty of faith in you, Mr. Winchester. You’re going to adapt just fine to this new difficulty, I’m sure of it.”

“Hell yeah I will, Doc. I’ve just gotta mope about it enough to get special treatment from my brother.”

“Like you wouldn’t give me hell for treating you different,” Sam pointed out, folding up the pamphlets and stuffing them into his jacket pocket. “C’mon, we better get you home before Miracle starts missing you too much.”

‘Miracle?’

‘Yeah? Miracle, she’s- oh! You didn’t get to meet her… Oh boy, do you have a surprise waiting for you back home, Cas.”

Sam walked behind Dean’s wheelchair, leaning down to switch off the brakes before grabbing hold of the handles at the back of the chair.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean’s words brought Sam to a stop.

“Uh… taking you home?” Sam clarified.

“Sam… what are these?” Dean asked, holding his arms out by his side.

“…your arms?”

“Bingo. And you see what I just did with them?”

“You… moved them?”

“Exactly. I can still use my damn arms, Sammy. So get your paws off my chair, and let me wheel myself outta here.”

Sam sighed at his brother's annoying sense of pride, taking his hands off the handles and holding them out in front of him in surrender. Dean nodded his head at him, turning his head back around to face forward before placing his hands on the wheels, pushing them forward and sending the wheelchair traveling towards the open door. Sam and Doctor Sullivan stood there and watched as Dean immediately collided with the frame of the door, listening to him curse quietly to himself as he reversed back from the door, then succeeded to go through and out into the hallway the second time around.

“I should probably run after him before he mows down a nurse or something…” Sam sighed, plucking up Dean’s hospital bag from the ground and heading towards the door.

“Wait, Mr. Winchester-,” Doctor Sullivan caught Sam by his elbow, stopping Sam in his tracks. “I didn’t want to bring it up while Dean was still in the room, but… I wanted to give you this.” He passed over a small white card over to Sam, the words ‘Dr. Ward’ printed out in sleek black ink, along with a phone number.

“What is this?” Sam asked, glancing from the card in his hands to Doctor Sullivan.

“It’s the number for a specialist I know. He deals in newly paralyzed patients, more particularly… their mental health. I’m not saying you have to give him a call, but I wanted to give it to you so the option is there. Your brother is good at putting on a brave face, but it’s one I’ve seen many times before. Those that make it seem like everything’s alright are usually the ones that are suffering the most. I’m hoping you’ll never need to call that number, but… challenging times lie ahead for both you and your brother, and there’s nothing wrong with finding help.”

“Thanks, Doctor… I’ll, uh… I’ll see how Dean goes for a while, but… yeah, I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Dean had already made it to the parking lot before Sam had even left the hospital room. That’s where Sam found him, frozen in place in his wheelchair in front of the Impala. Sam didn’t even need to look at his face to know he was staring at her longingly. This… was one of the moments Sam was dreading. The moment that Dean realized…

“I can’t even drive her anymore, Sammy… I’m never going to be sat behind her steering wheel again.”

“You never know,” Sam tried to stay optimistic for the sake of his brother. “There’s always a chance, right? Maybe we can find something to help fix your legs in our research, too.”

“I doubt that, Sam. Besides, that’s not where we should be focusing our efforts. Don’t go distracting yourself with stuff like that; We’ve gotta find a way to get Cas back – that’s the priority.”

‘Dean-,’

‘Nuh-uh, don’t you start with me either, Cas. You’re top priority, and that’s that. My legs can wait.’

“Dean, you know that’s what we’re going to be focusing on. I’m just saying that after we get Cas back and we have another pair of eyes with us… it’s something we can look into.”

“I know you’re trying to keep my hopes up, Sammy. But I don’t want that. Sure, if we find something, then… that’ll be fucking great. But chances are that’s not gonna happen, and I’d rather not have my hopes raised and crushed and like that. So… the sooner I accept that this is my life now, the better.”

Sam looked ready to argue with Dean some more about that, which Dean was absolutely not having. He wheeled away from the conversation, rolling himself over to the Impala’s passenger seat. “Now c’mon, unlock this damn door before I find my own way home.”

Sam shot his brother an incredulous look, but pulled Baby’s keys out of his pocket anyway. “Yeah, how you gonna do that? You going to wheel yourself all the way home?”

“Don’t test me, Sammy. You might just see me rolling down the I-70.”

‘I think he’d be more likely to see you as a red stain on the I-70’

‘Wow, Cas. That’s a dark thought.’

‘I’m just going with the most likely scenario to come from that.’

Sam had jogged over to the passenger side by the time Dean pulled himself out of his own thoughts, grabbing hold of Baby’s handle and pulling the door open for him. Dean waved his brother out of the way when he went to help, rolling himself closer to the Impala until he was lined up parallel with the seat.

“Dean, the brakes-,”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Dean grumbled in interruption. He attempted to lean down, reaching for the brake, but found his body simply wouldn’t allow him to go that far. Sam watched his brother struggle in silence before it became too much, stepping closer to Dean with an arm outstretched. Sam flicked the brakes into place before Dean could utter a single complaint, moving away quickly to avoid a likely swat from Dean.

“I could have done that…” Dean mumbled darkly.

‘No, you couldn’t, Dean. There’s only so far your back will allow you to bend. I can feel the pain you feel too, I know where your limits are. I’m sorry, but you couldn’t have done that by yourself.’

‘Way to bust my balls there, Cas… God, I really am turning into Bobby, aren’t I? Pretty sure Bobby didn’t bitch as much as I did, though.’

‘You’re not Bobby. You are your own man, and the way in which you react to such a traumatic change in your life does not make you any less of one.’

‘Yeah? Then why do I feel like a useless sack of crap…’

‘Because you are the one used to helping others, not being helped. It’s who you are. Always the one to put others before him.’

Dean stretched over to the Impala as far as his weakened back would let him, placing his palm down on her leather seats. With his other hand on his chair, he began pulling himself over, gritting his teeth in pain at the twinge in his back, his arms trembling with the effort. The gap between the chair and the Impala was too large, and Sam could see it happen before it even happened. Dean’s arm gave away the same time the chair tipped over, sending Dean sprawling into the asphalt with a pained grunt, getting the air knocked out of him upon impact.

Sam rushed forward to his brothers’ side in an instant, the fear of Dean’s wound reopening itself or potentially injuring his spine more than he already had springing into his mind.

“Fuck!” Dean cursed sharply, the single word echoing between the cars parked around them. He brought his fist down into the ground in his frustration, feeling the familiar sting of his knuckles splitting as they hit the hard ground of the parking lot. Sam knelt down by his side, one hand on the tipped over wheelchair and the other wrapped securely under Dean’s arm, ready to help him to his feet.

“Dean, please, just let me-,”

“Don’t!” Dean snapped at him, directing his frustration with himself at his brother. “I can do this! I’m not going to be some fucking weight dragging everyone down.”

“You’re not,” Sam insisted strongly, squeezing Dean’s arm tight. “Dean, you’re not. And I know you can do this, but that doesn’t mean you can’t accept my help.”

‘Dean… please.’ It was Cas’s pleading tone in his head, the pain he heard in that usually strong and resolved voice, a pain he knew Cas was feeling because of his pain… that’s what made the anger running through his veins start to simmer.

‘I know you want to prove you’re more than your injury. That you want to show everyone you’re stronger than it. But it’s not something you need to prove. We know you’re more than that. We know you’re stronger. Just the fact that you’re trying, and that you care more about solving my problems than even thinking about finding a way to heal yourself… There’s no one I admire more – and am proud to admire more – than you, Dean Winchester.’

Dean slowly uncurled his fingers out from his clenched fist, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh. Sam had remained silent- perhaps sensing that Cas was talking to him – his grip around Dean’s arm loose but still there, still ready.

‘I’m broken, Cas.’

‘No, you’re not. Because you’re most than just your legs. You’re more than your ability to hunt. What makes you – “you” – is all up here with me. And accepting your brother's help, or anyone’s help for that matter, will not change that. You are not weak for accepting help. You are not “less of a man” for admitting you need help. Your brother is not offering help because he thinks you’re weak, but because it pains him to see you hurt yourself like this. He just wants to help, as I would in his position. It kills me to know I can’t help... But one day, you’ll be a master at this. It will become a part of your life as everything else is. But today? Today, you’re still injured, you’re still recovering. You’re new to this. So please… let Sam help you.’

“Alright…” Dean caved, lifting up his arm to rest on the Impala’s seat above him. “Alright, Sammy… help me up.”

Sam took his hand off the wheelchair, shuffling behind Dean and pulling him up to a sitting position. He slid his arms underneath Dean’s armpits, straining with Dean’s weight as he pushed them both up, slowly pulling Dean up the side of the Impala until Dean all but collapsed into the seat. Dean dropped his head back against the seats with a heavy sigh, already feeling his arms start to ache from overuse.

Dean let his eyes close shut, waiting for Sam to finish up folding his chair and shoving it into the backseats (Baby’s trunk was far too cluttered to fit that in) before climbing into the driver’s seat. Sam shoved the keys into the ignition, twisting them until the sound of Baby’s purring filled the air, immediately putting Dean at ease.

“You okay?” Sam asked, glancing over at his brother.

“Yeah… I’m good,” Dean answered, his eyes still closed. “Thanks, by the way… For helping me.”

“Yeah, of course… You know it doesn’t bother me, right? Anytime you need-,”

“I got it, Sammy,” Dean cut him off. “I appreciate it, I really do. I just… I wanna go home.”

Sam’s lips pulled into a sympathetic smile at the exhaustion he could hear in Dean’s voice, nodding at him even though Dean couldn’t see him with his eyes closed. He turned forward in his seat, switching the gear into ‘drive’ and releasing the handbrake, smoothly pulling Baby out of the hospital's parking lot and onto the road.

‘Hey, Cas?’

‘Yes, Dean?’

‘You are helping. I know you think you’re not, but… you are. More than I think you realize.’

* * *

“Dammit...”

Dean couldn’t help it. Something about the genuine annoyance in his brother’s voice at the sight of the stairs got to him, cracking up into deep pearls of laughter that echoed around the bunker, hunched over as far as his back would let him.

“Sorry, Dean... I didn’t think about it,” Sam apologized, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to figure out what to do next.

“Yeah, I didn’t know what to do about that one.” Eileen’s voice filtered up from down below. Sam and Dean peered over the edge of the railing to see Eileen stood by the map table, craning her head up to see them. “I went out and bought some small ramps and set them up around the bunker on the smaller stairs, but... this one’s a bit too long to do that.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Sam asserted, looking from Dean to the stairs in front of them. “Maybe something like one of those-,”

“I swear to God Sammy, if you install a goddamn chair lift that eighty-year olds use, I will push you down these stairs.”

‘Considering you’re going to need your brother's help to get down the stairs, I wouldn’t suggest that.’

“Well… that might be the only option that works, Dean. Unless you have any better suggestions?”

“Whatever…” Dean grumbled under his breath, cautiously wheeling closer to the edge of the stairs. “So how we doing this? Gonna wrap me up in bubble-wrap and roll me down the stairs? Or just roll me down the stairs and hope for the best?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Sam warned light-heartedly, glancing back to the stairs to see Eileen making her way up to them. “Our best bet is just carrying you down in the chair. Can you grab him by the handles of the chair, Eileen? Then I’ll grab him by the front and help steer you down.”

“That still sounds like rolling me down the stairs and hoping for the best.”

“Shut up and focus where you’re going,” Sam grunted, stepping around to the front of the chair. He took a single step back onto the first stair, leaning forward and grabbing hold of the handles near the bottom of Dean’s chair.

Eileen disappeared out of Dean’s sight, taking hold of the handles at the back of his chair. “I’m good. You ready?”

Sam nodded, keeping his eyes focused on where the chair was going. “Yep, Just take it slow, alright?”

And take it slow they did. Minutes ticked by as they crawled agonizing slowly down the stairs, inching the wheels down one by one. Even though Dean knew all Sam and Eileen were worried about was him falling out of the chair and hurting himself again, all he could worry about was losing control of the chair and taking the two of them down with him.

It was both relieving and frustrating when they finally made it down to the bottom of the stairs, the concrete floor under his feet never seeming quite as safe as in that moment. Sam and Eileen looked rather proud of themselves for getting him down there, and Dean knew he should be feeling that way, too. Except… he hated everything about all that just happened. The fact that he wouldn’t have been able to go down some goddamn stairs if it weren’t for two other people helping him. The fact that going down a flight of stairs -something that usually takes him five seconds at most - took around five minutes.

“Who woulda thought, eh Sammy?” Dean glanced up at his brother. “From demons, to angels, to scribes of Gods, and then to God himself… my next enemy is going to be stairs.”

“And you’ll kick their ass, too,” Eileen assured him with a pat of his shoulders.

“I think it’s more likely the stairs will kick my ass. Literally. When I fall down them.”

“You gonna keep making more jokes about you falling down the stairs, or you gonna go get that drink you wouldn’t shut up about the whole drive home?” Sam teased as he made his way down to the hallways leading to the rooms, brushing a hand across Eileen’s back in thanks as he went.

“You know the answers both, Sammy!” Dean called after him as Sam went, giving a dismissive wave of his hand before disappearing out of sight.

“Thanks, by the way,” Dean craned his head around to face Eileen. “For being here, helping out… I know things must be weird for you at the moment, what with the whole resurrection thing… again…”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Eileen leaned back against the map table, bracing her arms behind her as she spoke. “You, Sam, and Cas… you’re my family.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you’re just here for Sam,” Dean grinned at the flush that spread across Eileen’s face. “Seriously, though, you being here? It’s what Sam needs right now. He, uh… he was crushed when you left. He understood of course, but… kid was pining hard for you. Wasn’t the same, you know?”

“Do you ever stop worrying about Sam’s wellbeing?” Eileen asked with an inquisitive smile. “Most people who get injured like to soak up every ounce of sympathy from others… yet all you can think about is others.”

“You said it yourself; you guys are my family. I don’t consider my injury a ‘problem’. Not one high up the list, anyway.”

“Hmm… first on the list goes to Castiel, I’m guessing?”

“We like to take turns. I’ll have a problem, then Sam’ll have a problem… Then Cas… It’s just Cas’s turn to step up to the plate.”

‘Is that some kind of sports reference?’

‘Yep. Baseball.’

‘Oh, right – I think we watched a game at one point, didn’t we?’

‘Yeah, just the one. Jack wanted to know what it was all about - think he got kinda bored with it. Didn’t wanna say though coz he knew we were still watching it… Think the poor kid just wanted to boot up Netflix and keep on binging.’

“Maybe one day you’ll solve the last problem,” Eileen suggested. “Well, the last ‘loved one at risk of death or worse’ kind of problem.”

“With us? You do know who we are, right?”

“Good point,” Eileen's eyes shifted over to the entrance of the hallway, something Dean easily spotted.

“Hey, you know you don’t have to keep talking to me out of pity, right?” Dean brought her attention back. “I’m not stupid, I know you want to go chasing after my little brother. Don’t let me keep you. Besides, Sam was right – I really do want to go get that drink… been on nothing but water and IV fluids for the past few days…”

Eileen huffed out a laugh, shaking her head as she brought her arms in front of her and crossed them. “I can’t imagine that’s what the doctor ordered.”

“Hey, I know my body. A nice glass of ten-year-old malt is exactly what I ordered.” Dean retaliated with a beaming smile, turning his wheelchair around and heading towards the hallway.

“Hey, Dean!”

Eileen’s call brought Dean to a stop, turning the chair back around to face Eileen. “Yeah?”

Eileen looked to him for a moment, the pause in their conversation lingering before she spoke. “Are you okay?”

This was a question Dean’s been asked many times before; Usually when he’s had his ass handed to him by whatever freak they’re hunting that week. Or when he’s fighting something within himself. Or when someone he loves dies – which is too often in their line of work. And nearly every time that question is asked, he’ll plant the best smile on his face that he can muster and say the same line every time – ‘I’m fine.’

This time? This time, with Eileen looking at him like she can already smell the bullshit lie he’s about to say, and with Cas staying suspiciously quiet in his head – listening in more like – he decides…

He’s done with lying.

“No, I’m not,” His answer seems to take Eileen by surprise, her eyebrows shooting up as she does one big blink in shock. “And I’m not gonna say ‘but I will be’ or something cheesy along those lines, coz’ honestly? I got no friggen’ idea if I’ll ever be ‘fine’ with all this. I’m just… dealing with it hour by hour, day by day. Besides, I got more important things to worry about right now.”

The corner of Eileen’s lips lifted in a sympathetic smile, lifting up her hand at chest height, palm down and parallel with her body. “Let me guess; this is where your problem is, and this-,” Her hand lifted up to above her head. “-Is where Cas is?”

Dean clicked his mouth, shooting a finger gun at Eileen. “Top of the list.”

“You know, one day you and Cas are going to have to tell me the whole story. How Castiel went from an angel of the lord, to an acquaintance, then to your best friend.”

“Kind of a long story. Twelve years in the making, you know.”

“Sounds like an interesting one though. From the family of God to the Winchester family…”

“Heh… Nah, he’s more than that. Cas is…” Dean paused, searching for the right words. What was Cas to him? “He’s… huh… he’s a bit of everything. There’s been times where he’s been my enemy, times where he’s gone behind my back… then there’s times where he’s thrown away everything he knows, everything he believes in, to help us. Help me. Everything he’s done, everything he ever does… it was always because he was trying to do the right thing.”

“Sounds like two other guys I know.”

Dean chuckled, dropping his head down. “Yeah… maybe we rubbed off on the guy. I’m pretty sure corrupting an angel is some kind of sin…”

“Considering how Cas is one of the only good angels out there, I think ‘corrupting’ him was probably for the best,” Eileen said.

“Apparently our Cas is the only one we could ‘corrupt’. Said so by God himself. All the other Cas’s stayed in line, but not this one.”

“Do I detect some pride in your voice?”

“Hell yeah you do. You know, Cas is… before I met him, I didn’t think there would be anyone I would care about as much as Sammy. No one else I thought I’d be willing to die for. Then Cas waltzed right in that barn and changed everything.”

Eileen smiled warmly at him. “Yeah… that sounds like ‘more than family’ to me.”

“Exactly. And that’s why he’s top of the list.”

“And probably why you guys get into so much trouble all the time,” Eileen pushed herself off the map table, patting Dean’s shoulder as she passed by him. “I think I’m going to head to bed – and you should do the same after your nightcap.”

“Already planning to!” Dean said in passing, having to resist the urge to punch himself in the face when he remembered Eileen can’t actually hear him.

‘You know, I recall not too long again when Sam and Eileen were being held captive by Chuck that you did something similar. You-,’

‘Yeah I know, I answered her call and started talking. I’m a dumbass. That the point you were trying to make?’

‘Of course not, Dean. You were in a stressful situation and likely weren’t thinking clearly.’

‘Yeah? What’s new?’

Dean carefully maneuvered himself down the matte black ramp Eileen had set up, thankfully not too steep so he didn’t go zooming down at uncontrollable speeds. Even though that sounded kinda fun…

The plan was to head straight for the bottle of scotch he had stored in the kitchen cupboard, pour himself a glass and let the warming flavors soothe him to sleep.

Castiel decided he wanted to ruin those plans, however.

It was quite cruel on his part, in Dean’s opinion. Waiting quite literally to the last second, with the cap of the whiskey twisted off and seconds away from being poured into his favorite crystal tumbler when Cas interrupted him.

‘Dean, I have to remind you of the Doctor’s instructions. They said not to drink any alcohol for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours whilst the medication is still processing through your system.’

Dean groaned out loud at this, placing the bottle down hard on the kitchen island with a loud ‘thump’, very nearly spilling the precious amber liquid. ‘C’mon, Cas… Just one drink isn’t going to hurt me.’

‘Perhaps not – but it’s best not to take the risk. If your body doesn’t react well, there’s nothing I can do to heal you.

Dean eyed the bottle in front of him for a while, letting Cas’s words settle in his mind. ‘Fine…’ Reluctantly, he scooped the cap back up and twisted it back into place. Dean placed the bottle and tumbler back in their usual resting places, staring mournfully at the closed door that contained them.

‘You owe me a drink, Cas.’

‘And… how am I supposed to do that?’

Dean smiled to himself in the quiet of the kitchen, wheeling himself back in the direction of his bedroom. ‘I think I have just the idea…’

* * *

The bar Castiel found himself stepping into was familiar. Usually, it’s quite difficult to name particular bars as they generally all have the same feel; grimy tables sticky with various alcoholic beverages, worn and damaged bar stools, pools of blood and other liquids that he’d rather not think about stained on the cheap vinyl flooring.

This bar was… nice. Homey feeling. Soft rock music floated around the room from the old jukebox tucked away in the corner of the bar, sat upon wooden paneled floors which were spotless, matching the overall wooden appearance of the building. Neon signs advertising the bar's drinks adorned the frosted glass windows which hid the world outside – though Castiel guessed there wasn’t even an outside anyway. The barstools were cushioned and comfortable looking, their red cushions somehow without a single scratch or split on them. And there, behind the beautifully carved wooden bar with a pleased smile on his face and a glass of whiskey in hand, was Dean.

“I’m almost impressed,’ Castiel stepped further into the room, making his way over to the bar. “Seems you’re starting to get some control over your dreams – forcing the location is a good start.”

“Almost impressed?” Dean lowered the tumbler from his mouth, looking almost offended. “I managed to conjure up a whole freaking bar. What’s not to be impressed about?”

“For one, you didn’t ‘make’ this bar. Michael did. It exists as a memory within your mind – which you were able to entice your mind into recreating for your dream. That’s the part that’s impressive.”

Dean took a seat on a stool he had dragged to his side of the bar, taking a seat and gesturing with drink in hand for Cas to take a seat of his own. “So why are you ‘almost’ impressed?”

“Well, If I were to guess, you’ve spent nearly a third of your life in bars,” Castiel pulled the barstool out, dropping himself down and leaning his arms on the miraculously non-sticky wooden top of the bar. “It’s almost cheating to assume your brain wouldn’t create dreams of bars without your intervention.”

“Okay, first of all? Screw you,” Dean downed the last drops of whiskey in his glass, turning around to pour himself another glass from a new selection of whiskeys adorning the wall behind him, missing the tender smile that hitched at Cas’s lips from his teasing. “And second of all, what you drinking?”

“Water’s fine for me.”

Dean turned back around, shooting Cas his most disgusted look. “Wow, Cas, uh, calm down? Don’t go too crazy.”

Cas rolled his eyes, leaning back from the bar. “I’ll have whatever you’re having then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Dean cheered, ducking down to grab another tumbler from under the bar, pouring a drink for both him and Cas. “Could always go the Crowley route, you know? Nice fruity cocktail with one of those little umbrellas in it.”

Dean slid the glass across the bar, which Castiel easily caught with his hand. “Considering I barely have any sense of taste, there’d probably be no point.”

“Seriously?” Dean sat back down on his stool, leaning back against the wall behind him. “I’ve seen you drinking before though? Why’d you bother if you can’t taste it?”

Castiel shrugged, spinning the glass absentmindedly on the table. “Do you drink alcohol just for the taste?”

“Point taken,” Dean raised his glass to Cas, the two of them sharing small smiles as they clink their glasses together. The two took simultaneous sips of their drink, and Dean noticed Cas’s brows raising in surprise, raising the glass up to his eyes and looking at the amber liquid inquisitively.

“Something up?” Dean asked, resting his glass on the bar. “Don’t worry, I didn’t poison you.”

“I can taste this,” Castiel’s voice was alight with curiosity, raising the glass up the dimmed lights that hung above the bar.

“You can? How?”

“Not sure,” Castiel placed his glass back on the bar, done with his inspection. “I have two theories; The first being that, since we now share a body, your memories of the taste of alcohol are accessible to me. So, if I drink or eat in your mind, I will taste it, feel it and smell it in the way you remember eating it.”

“Huh. So, if you tried eating something I’ve never eaten before, you wouldn’t be able to taste it?” Dean asked, crossing his arms and leaning them on the bar.

“Possibly. Unless the reason is my second theory; that this is all a result of my diminished grace. The closer I am to being human, the more human abilities I will adopt – senses being one of them. This no longer tastes like ‘molecules’ anymore. I can feel the warmth as it slips down my throat. I can taste the hints of honey and cinnamon and… I believe that may be apple?”

“Alright, so either way – you can taste stuff now,” Dean raised his glass in the air. “That’s gotta be a bonus, right?”

“I suppose. I do miss the taste of a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich…”

“Well then, you better hope your ability in tasting isn’t based on my memories. Coz from my memory, grape jelly sucks.”

“You don’t like grape jelly and peanut butter sandwiches?” Castiel sounded as if the thought of such a thing was a crime.

“I like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Dean clarified. “But I don’t like grape jelly.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t taste like grapes!” Dean slammed the glass down on the table, this time hard enough for the drink to slosh over the side and onto the bar. “It tastes like… the color purple.”

“The color purple has a taste?” Cas clicked his fingers, effortless cleaning up the spilled whiskey.

“Yep. Grape flavor stuff. The grape-flavored Gatorade? Not grape-flavored, it’s purple flavored. Grape candy? Nope, purple flavor again. It tastes like… sugar and processed crap. Can’t be good for you.”

“Says the guy on his second glass of whiskey – since I’ve been here.” Cas raised a good point. “How many did you drink before I entered your dream?”

“None of your business…” Dean finished off his sixth drink of the night, the narrowed eyed look Cas was sending his way only going to show that he wasn’t getting off the hook that easy. “Besides, what does it matter? It’s in my dreams, right? Doesn’t actually affect my real body?”

“I suppose that’s true,” Cas conceded, still sipping on his first drink of the night. “If you can have free reign of the drinks you have in your sleep, does that mean you’ll reduce the amount you drink when you’re awake?”

Dean’s head jolted back, a half-amused half confused look plastered on his face. “You don’t want me drinking anymore?”

“I know you stopping completely will never happen. But I’d like you to slow down, yes.”

“You gonna tell me why, or…?”

“It’s because… Dean, you’re getting older-,”

“You sure do know how to make a guy feel pretty, Cas.”

“I wasn’t finished,” The narrow-eyed look was back again. “In the times when you were injured on a hunt and you permitted me to heal you… I’d… I’d clear our your system, too. Remove any toxins, heal any damage to your liver, clear out the build-up in your arteries…”

For some strange reason, Cas actually looked guilty to be admitting this. He was practically hunched over himself, staring down intensely at the glass between his hands, ignoring Dean’s burning gaze on him.

“Oh… That was, uh… that was nice of you to do, Cas.”

This at least got Cas to break his intense staring match with his whiskey, risking a glance up to see Dean’s reaction. “I didn’t mean to overstep boundaries, I just…”

“You wanted to help, I get it, Cas. It’s okay.”

Cas relaxed marginally at this, releasing the tension in his shoulders and taking another sip – albeit slightly larger than before- of his whiskey.

“So, how often did you do that?” Dean asked, shifting one foot to rest on the bottom of the bar stool, the other hanging off the edge of the stool. “I didn’t get hurt that often – and you didn’t always heal me for every little boo-boo I got.”

The panic was back. Dean could see the subtle changes in Cas; the brief widening and blank look in his eyes, face set in stone so Dean couldn’t read a single emotion on his face – which was actually what gave him away. This was Cas reverting back to his classic angel mode.

“I suppose I, um… there were occasions where I would try to be… close to you. Standing side by side at interviews, next to each other in the kitchen or at the map table… I would take the opportunity then; A touch of the hand, legs bumping under the table, my shoulder brushing against yours… Any time there was even the slightest of contact, I would send over some of my grace. Heal the minor damage inside that you usually can’t see – or don’t keep track of.”

Now that… that happened a lot. He had long since given up reminding Cas about personal space and just accepted that that was how Cas was. But now he thinks about it… did Cas ever stand that close to Sam? To Jack? To anyone else but him? No… no, he didn’t. It was just something that became the norm for them, it was how they were with each other, and now Dean was so used to it that he didn’t even bat an eye when he felt Cas’s arm against his, or when Cas scooted so close to Dean at the table that he as may as well have been sat in his damn lap. That was just… Cas.

Now, at least, there was reasoning behind it other than ‘just because.’ And it was a logical reason, a kind one even, for Cas to be doing that for him. Except… why did he feel disappointed with the reason? He should be feeling relieved about it, right? That Cas wasn’t invading his personal space for the hell of it?

“Oh…” Dean shuffled on the stool, dipping his eyes down to the bar. “So, uh… you were doing all that just to heal me?”

Dean could feel Cas’s eyes burning a hole through him now, forcing his gaze back up to meet Cas’s intense one. Intense, yet… almost sad.

“You know that’s not the only reason.”

Cas had uttered the words so soft, so quietly that Dean almost didn’t hear him. Like Cas intended for those words to be heard for him and him alone, even though there wasn’t another soul in sight. And yeah, maybe he did know the other reason. Maybe he’d been keeping it buried down, pretending that it had never happened. That Cas had never told him those things… Because even now, months after he had said them, after Cas had made them his final words to him, even with Cas back… he still doesn’t know what to do with them.

He hadn’t really tried, truth be told. After Cas had died, the pain of it was still too raw, and thinking about it only ripped the wound open further. He thought it’d be easier to lock the memory away, keep it out of sight and out of mind and find a way to... to move on. It seemed impossible – to keep Cas in his memory, yet simultaneously try to forget about him. Clearly, it hadn’t worked. He might as well have had Cas’s smiling, tear-streaked face etched into his eyelids.

Then, with Cas back… it was as if Cas was trying to forget about it, too. Which Dean can’t exactly blame him for. After all, the poor guy had probably assumed he would stay dead after making such a confession. Easier to pretend it never happened than confront it – at least, that was Dean’s personal motto. Plus, with all they have on their plates (again….), it was probably pushed to the back of both their minds.

Which is why none of this makes sense. There’s a part of him that wants to talk to Cas about it, but… he still hasn’t processed it all. Not really. He had no idea what to say to Cas in that very moment, the Empty and Billie breathing down their necks, about to lose his best friend in the worst time of his life. Now, in a relaxed and cozy bar with literally no-one else that can hear them, safe in his own mind… Dean still doesn’t know what to say to him.

But the liquid courage running through his veins sure knew what to do.

Dean downed the last of the drink for that little extra bit of drunk idiocy, turning the glass upside down and slamming it down on the bar with a grin. “C’mon, finish your drink,” Dean nodded his chin at the glass in Cas’s hand, the stool underneath him screeching across the floor as he stands.

“What for?” Cas asked, though brought the glass of whiskey up to his lips anyway, the last of the drink disappearing steadily.

Cas copied Dean’s prior movements, turning the glass upside down and placing it next to Dean’s glass. It was only once Cas looked up at the shy grin on Dean’s face, a single eyebrow raised up as he waited patiently that Dean moved. Cas turned on his stool to follow Dean as he stepped around the bar, coming to a stop in front of Cas and offering out his hand to him. Cas’s eyes flicked up from Dean’s outstretched hand to Dean’s face, still not getting what it was Dean was trying to do.

“Twelve years on this Earth, Cas. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance.”

“…Because I haven’t?” Cas eyed Dean’s hand suspiciously, hand twitching by his side as he resisted the urge to reach out and take it.

“Hmmm…” Dean hummed, inching his hand even closer to Cas. “How ‘bout we change that?”

Dean could see the moment it clicked in Cas’s head. His eyes were wide like a deer caught in the headlights, looking to Dean as if to try and figure out what weird and cruel joke Dean was trying to play on him. There was no joke. There was no ulterior motive. Hell, not even Dean himself knew why he wanted to do this. He only knew that he wanted to. It was kind of weird, it was all kinds of terrifying and definitely not what two guys do in their spare time, but hey – this is just a dream, right? People have weird dreams all the time. It’s not like his minds trying to tell him something or anything like that…

Castiel swallowed harshly, that partly terrified look still on his face that Dean remembers seeing the day he took him to that brothel. Except, this time, Cas was resting his hand in Dean’s, not some random chick that would be throwing stuff at Cas’s head less than a minute later. Cas’s hand was calloused like Dean’s, both of their skin marked by scars and roughened by years of wielding weapons. The warmth of Cas’s hand bled into his skin, his grip around Dean’s hand tight with nerves, thumb resting lightly over Dean’s pulse point. It was strange that, even in his dream, Dean’s heart was pounding hard in his chest like it would if this was really happening – which Cas definitely had to feel from his pulse in the unlikely event he couldn’t hear his heart going crazy.

Why was he so nervous about something as simple as dancing? Sure, he’s no master at the waltz, but it’s not like he’s at some fancy big-wig party trying to blend in with the rich folk. It was just him and Cas, after all.

Well… that was his answer, he supposed. It wasn’t just Cas. It was Cas.

“I… I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do,” Cas admitted as Dean led him to the center of the bar, the room spacious and perfect for just this occasion.

“I don’t know about dancing either,” Dean replied with a shrug of his shoulders, lifting up his other hand and placing it tentatively on Cas’s back. “We’ll figure it out as we go. It’ll come natural.”

It did come natural, as it turned out. Almost a little too natural. Cas’s hand rested between his shoulder blades like it was always meant to be there, placed directly over where Dean knows his wound exists in the real world. Cas’s grip had slackened somewhat, his nerves lessening as they swayed together.

From the outside, it was probably the most awkward-looking dance in existence. They didn’t sweep each other across the floor with the graceful movements of a professional. It was more of a… stumbling step and shuffle, a few winces occasionally shared between them as they inevitably stepped on each other's toes.

But… that made it all the better. Moments like that got them giggling quietly in the tranquil space between them, smiles plastered on their faces that would be hard to wipe off as they shambled around the room to the hushed chorus of ‘All My Love.’

Of course it was a Led Zeppelin song.

Of course.

“This is one of the songs you put on the tape you gave me,” Cas pointed out part way through the song, feeling coordinated enough now to dance and talk at the same time. Mostly…

“Another guilty pleasure,” Dean said with a sly smirk. “Dad was always embarrassed to admit he liked these kinds of tracks, too. Guess that passed on to me.”

“Well, I like it.”

Dean snorted. “Course you do. Would be foolish to label the tape “Top ten tracks” if they weren’t the greatest of the great, wouldn’t it?”

Cas broke his gaze away from Dean’s, looking instead to their joined hands held out in front of them, fumbling slightly in his steps as he does so. “Did you mean it?”

Dean frowned at him, racking his brain for what Cas could be referring to. “Did I mean what?”

“When you were talking to Eileen… You told her I was ‘more than family’. Did you… did you mean it?”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t,” The answer came surprisingly easy to Dean. He should have fumbled over the words in his head, any logical part of his brain shut down as panic took over. That’s what should have happened, but it didn’t. “It’s hard to say what you are to me, Cas. Family is all I’ve ever really known, the only thing that was important to me. So putting you in there made sense, you know? And you still are there, but… dammit Cas, you’ve been my longest friend. It feels like… it feels like my mind wants to put you into another category. It just doesn’t know what that is.”

Dean had been expecting for Cas to look disheartened after that. He knows it’s not what Cas wants to hear, but… he can’t. He doesn’t know how, all he knows is that he wants his best friend back. He wants for everything to be fixed, for Cas to be shoved back into his body and then… they can go from there. Hell, maybe they will fix his legs. And then maybe Dean will be stupid and keep hunting despite the clear wake-up call, and Cas will tag along even though he’s pissed at him for carrying on because he’ll always feel the need to watch over him.

He wants things back to the way they were. And Dean knows that’s what he wants.

He knows what he wants.

He’s sure of it…

Next Chapter - - - >

#Destiel #destiel fanfiction #Destiel fanfic #destiel fic #destiel fix it #fix it #fix it fic #castiel/dean winchester #Dean Winchester/Castiel #cas/dean #dean/cas #casdean #supernatural spoilers #season 15 spoilers #fluff #angst

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backtobackbakubabe · 5 years ago

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Baby its Cold Outside (PART 8)

Bakugo x Reader

Push it, Push it! To the Limit, Limit. Now we’re in it to win it!

Words: 2509

PART 1 HERE, PART 2 HERE, PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE PART 5 HERE , PART 6 HERE PART 7 HERE PART 8 HERE PART 9 HERE PART 10 HERE PART 11 HERE PART 12 HERE PART 13 HERE PART 14 HERE

*****************************************************************************************************

Okay today is the day. It’s been three months since the accident and you were eager to get back in the saddle. Sure you still had the occasional jump scare, but it was manageable.

Technically you were on call for back up duty. Which means a couple days a week you go hang out at the agency and wait to see if anyone needs backup. Sure it’s not glamorous but its a step in the right direction.

The best part about getting to hang out at the agency all day was you were assigned a personal trainer that was ready to work with you whenever you wanted to. And you definitely wanted to.

You didn't waste any time going up to the front desk of the state of the art training facility in the basement level of your agency. You used to come here with Bakugo when you first started working together. But you never got to utilize the trainer because he insisted that no extra could possibly teach him something he didn't already know. You almost felt like you were cheating on him.

Your trainer’s name was Dylan. She was a small petite women who specialized in quirk training. She was an expert in taking someones quirk and helping them find new ways to use it or helping them make it stronger. And that’s exactly what you wanted to do. You wanted her to help you figure out how the hell you teleported 15 miles.

You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous. All the stories you've heard made her seem pretty intense. But then you remember who you were dating and there’s no way she could be worse than that. Hopefully.

You saw her across the training facility over by an obstacle course, it looked like she was reading a file. Probably your file. You wondered what was in there. Was it good stuff? Did it mention you were shot? Was she already judging you based off a few pieces of paper? Get it together Y/n you’ll be fine.

You couldn't help but notice her stern posture and long black hair that hung in a perfectly in place pony tail. You gulped and wiped your now sweaty hands on your training pants. Good thing you don’t have Bakugo’s quirk, you may have set off an explosion by now.

“Hi I’m Y/n! It’s very nice to meet you. I’m really excited to get to work with you. I’ve heard you’re the bes-”

Dylan’s eyes snapped to yours and you felt a chill go down your spine. Yeah intense is probably the best way to describe her. She didn't say anything just held eye contact for a few seconds before squinting and cocking her head as if she was trying to understand a abstract painting, “Interesting.”

You almost flinched at how sweet her voice sounded. A stark contrast to the heavy glare in her eyes. She hadn't even blinked yet. “Uh... is something wrong?”

Her shook her head as if trying wake herself up and blinked rapidly, “Oh no sorry about that I was just assessing your quirk. You see my quirk allows me to see the limits to others ability as long as I can maintain eye contact. So I can see how far they can go, their greatest strengths, their weaknesses, their potential. It’s what allows me to be a great trainer. I always know what needs to be worked on and how far I can push my heros.”

Your jaw dropped, “That’s a super impressive quirk! Why aren't you a hero? It would be amazing to know all the villains weakness just by looking at them.”

She just laughed, “Oh no! I’d just be a liability in the field. I’m tiny and not very strong. Besides it only works as long as I maintain eye contact, and I don't know many villains who willingly just stare into heros eyes.” She just shrugged as if this were old news. She must have to explain it to everyone. She threw your file over in the direction of a nearby bench, “Now we've wasted enough time let’s get started shall well? I want you to start by getting through this obstacle course but only by teleporting.”

You bit your lip, “Uh I don't know if I can. I have to be able to visualize where I’m going. There’s too many things blocking my view...”

Dylan gave you a bored look, “You think I don't know that? Much like everything else in this course its just another obstacle for you to overcome. Now you only have me for two hours. Lets make it count.”

And thats how you ended up going home that night covered in bruises from running into things. But as sore as you were you were also excited. Dylan had been right. The harder you pushed yourself the easier it got. By the end of your session you had managed to teleport past two obstacles perfectly fine. You were over the moon but Dylan still looked bored. “Good, now tomorrow we’ll do it again but I’ll have cementoss change the set up and I’ll blindfold you.” And like that she was off to her next client, her ponytail swaying like a pendulum. She was either going to be the death of you or the best teacher you ever had. Only time will tell.

You were snuggled up with Zuko watching tv when Bakugo came home. He looked exhausted. He dragged his feet all the way to the couch, “Oi Zuko.. get down it’s my turn. You know the drill.”

Bakugo had spent a lot of time training Zuko and you could tell that although Zuko loved you more, he definitely respected Katsuki as the alpha. He hopped off the couch leaving room for Katsuki to plop down on top of you.

You groaned in protest because you were still super sore from training. But he was already half asleep meaning his day must have been really hard. So instead of scolding him you just ran your fingers through his hair while he snuggled in to you, his head using your boobs as a pillow. He was so adorable like this.

You stayed like that for a an hour or so until your stomach started to rumble with hunger. Apparently it was loud enough for your boyfriend to hear because he started to stir, “I swear sometimes I don't know who I have to take care of more... Zuko or you.” He slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “What do you want for dinner?”

It was only then that he really looked at you since coming home, “Oi... what happened to you? I thought you were on call today? Did you get pulled to duty?” You could see the concern in is his eyes, “It was your first fucking day back and you’re covered in bruises.”

You rubbed your thumb between his pinched eyebrows, “No I didn't get pulled, but I did some training with my new trainer Dylan. I was trying to learn how to teleport to places I cant see. So naturally I ended up running into a lot of stuff.”

“.... Dylan? Who the fuck is Dylan?”

“Yes Dylan. And before you get yourself all worked up, Dylan is a girl and she is awesome.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “How awesome can she be if you end up covered in bruises?”

“Her methods might be harsh but they work. Within our two hour session I was able to do something I’ve never been able to do before. I teleported somewhere I couldn't see and had never seen before! She said our quirks are like muscles, they only work in ways that we practice using them. If we don't exercise them in other ways then we won't ever reach our full potential.”

He scoffed, “Sounds like a load of horse shit to me. Every quirk has its limits.”

“True but her quirk actually allows her to see those limits. So she always knows exactly what buttons to push to help you maximize your abilities.”

He was in the kitchen now already bored with the conversation, “Well have fun with that. Just please don’t push yourself too hard alright? And don't forget who your favorite trainer is either!”

You sighed at your jealous boyfriend, “No need to be jealous Katsu, you’ll always be my number one. Even if you did catch my hair on fire our second year at UA.”

His laugh echoed through the apartment, “It’s not my fault you tried to sneak up on me.You’re lucky it was just your hair!”

The next day you practically skipped on the way to training. Excited to push the limits once again. True to her word Dylan blindfolded you and would walk around the obstacle corse and yell. Your job was to listen and try to teleport to her based on hearing alone. It was so difficult. You were soaked with sweat and exhausted but she wasn't done with you. She kept pushing and pushing. You felt like a rubber band about to snap. By then end, it was easier but not by much. It was something that was likely going to take a while to master. But hey just two days ago you didn’t even know it was possible, so small victories.

You worked on it again the next day and every day after. It became almost like a warm up, then you would move on to other things. Today you were trying to teleport objects without going with it, which proved to be the most mentally challenging thing you had tried yet. It took immense focus and even then the best you had done was teleport a marble from your hand to Dylans hand when she was standing about three feet away. It left you dizzy and with a nasty headache. Your eyeballs felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets and your shoulders were so sore from you tensing up so hard.

“Will this ever get any easier? My head is killing me...”

Dylan handed you a water bottle, “Of course it will. Everything does with enough practice. It may not be today, tomorrow, or next week. But it’ll come as long as you keep up with it.” She took a sip of her own water bottle, “I’ll tell you, you are probably one of the most motivated clients I’ve ever had. I can see it in your body language. You’re determined to get better.”

You gave a soft laugh, “Yeah well that’s because for the last five and a half years I’ve had Ground Zero kicking my ass and he doesn't except excuses. You either give it 110 percent or you get the fuck out.”

Her eyes widened, “Pshhhh and people say I’m intense. I’ve met Ground Zero a time or two. He’s got a mouth on him and attitude to match... but he’s a great hero and from what I hear he’s actually a pretty decent guy.”

You blushed as you smiled into your water bottle, “Yeah he’s the best once you really get to know him. It might take a few years but he’s definitely the kind of guy you want in your corner when shit goes down.”

She gave you a knowing smile, “You two are lucky to have each other. You know usually I don’t do this kind of thing but between you and I, you’re my favorite client and Ground Zero is kind of my kid’s favorite hero... so what do you say you guys come over for dinner sometime?”

You tried to hide your surprise at the fact she had a child, “Oh that sounds excellent! We definitely will!”

That night you decided to take a bath to soak your sore muscles. You had your eyes closed and were listening very intently to all the noises around you. Trying to map where these sounds might be coming from like Dylan taught you. The water was still hot when you heard Katsuki come in and quietly close the door behind him. You didn't open your eyes but your smile gave you away. You heard his clothes hitting the floor and him step up to the tub, “Scoot forward a bit will ya? Make room for me.”

You chuckled as you did what he asked, “Since when do you like baths?”

“Since I walked in and saw my incredibly hot girlfriend taking one.”

He started to rub your tense shoulders and you couldn't help but moan in response. “Well as long as you promise to do that you won't hear me complaining.”

He kissed the side of you neck, “Is that all you want me to do?” You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, “All those workouts you’ve been doing have you all tense.” His voice dropped to the delicious bedroom voice he only reserves for you, “Lets see what I can do to help.”

His hands moved from your shoulders to your chest, massaging lightly the area above your breasts. His thumbs continued to rub small circles into your neck and it felt heavenly.

You slowly eased into his touch, letting your head rest on on his shoulder. You just closed your eyes and hummed in contentment. You loved simple moments like these.

His hands traveled down your arms and rubbed the sore muscles there, before returning his hands to your hair and started to massage your scalp. “mmmm your truly are the best boyfriend ever.”

You could feel his dick start to get hard as it pushed into your back. “What have I said about making noises like that? You know what it does to me.” His hands traveled back to your chest except this time it was to grope your breasts. He nibbled your ear as he started rolling your nipples between his expert fingers. You arched your back pushing your breasts into his hands. Desperate for his touch. “Oh baby girl, you look so beautiful. How did I ever get so lucky?”

One of his hands stayed on your breast while the other trailed south until it found the area truly craving his attention. Without any hesitation he pushed a finger into you, quickly followed by another. It was sweet, and slow, and it was driving you insane.

You squirmed beneath him trying to get more friction. “Always so impatient aren't you baby?”

You huffed, “I’d say I’m more than patient considering I had to wait over five years for you to make a move. And even then I believe I was the one who kissed you.”

You knew that would get a rise out of him in more ways than one, and you were not disappointed. He pulled his fingers out and with firm hands pushed you up. “Turn around and get in my lap.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement. His hand coming down with a hard smack on your ass as you briefly waved it in his face as you turned around. His hands found your waist as soon as you were straddling his lap and pushed you into his erection. “That’s right. I had to wait over five years. I had to watch as guys drooled after you. I had to sit behind you in class every day and listen to your goofy laugh. I listened to you complain about all the assholes you ever went on dates with. I watched and I waited until the perfect time...”

He thrust himself into you, “And baby, I’d do it all again if it meant we’d end up right here, right now.”

Your nails dug into his shoulder. The water started sloshing around as his thrusts became more intense and sloppy. He latched on to your neck sucking hard. It was definitely going to leave a mark and you would try to remember to scold him for it later. But right now you were too blissed out.

You were grinding into him to meet his thrusts. You really were making a mess now but you didn't care.

It wasn't long before you felt that familiar coil in you start to tighten, ready to burst any second. He pulled you into a tight hug, lifted his hips and really pounded into you. You felt your walls flutter and your vision blurred as you came for what felt like forever.

Katsuki gave you a couple more sloppy thrusts before he emptied himself inside of you.

You were both laying there panting, your head on his shoulder, his hands rubbing softly up and down your back, “So what do you say? Was I worth the wait?”

His hand froze, “What kind of dumb ass question is that?”

You giggled as you sat up and pulled the drain from the tub letting what was left of the water drain out.

He was handing you a towel when an idea came to you.

“Oh babe I want to show you something!”

“Huh? What are talking about?”

You grabbed a sleep mask out from a bathroom drawer and walked back to him. He smirked, “Oh kinky...”

You rolled your eyed and gave his chest a smack. “Oh stop it I’m serious watch this!” You put the mask over your eyes, “Okay now I want you to go hide somewhere in the apartment and when you’re ready whisper my name.”

He gave you a bored look but because he’s a good boyfriend he would go along with your shenanigans.

Not long after you heard him whisper your name, you focused really hard and *Pop* you teleported right into him knocking him over.

“What the? How did you? THATS AWESOME!”

And that’s how you ended up playing the most intense game of naked marco polo ever.... like the two adults that you are.

#bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugō #bakugo imagine #bhna #bhna bakugou #bhna imagine #bhna x reader #mha bakugou #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #my hero academia

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melodious-madrigals · 5 years ago

Text

big spoon, little spoon

Prompt fill for @wondertrevnet‘s Lockout Bingo.

Fandom: Wonder Woman Pairing: Diana/Steve Prompt: Fluff Word Count: 3351 Rating: T? (Some really obliquely referenced sexism, I guess.) Summary: 5 times Diana and Steve were disgustingly cute and very happy (+0 times that they weren't because this is fluff). Literally just fluff, Steve & Diana loving each other a lot. Idk what else to tell you. This is part ii of lost love (sweeter when it’s finally found), and you can read the first chapter here.

Find this fic below the cut or on AO3.

***

Notes: Takes place a year or two after Hades deposits Steve in Diana's living room. I'd planned a vaguely angstier fic for my next release, but then I had such a shitty 72 hours that I did not want anyone to feel anything but fluffy, so I rearranged the line-up. please enjoy 3k words of wondertrev being happy and loving each other very much.

***

Even in the modern age, Diana remains partial to keeping track of things the old fashioned way. She has a Google calendar like every professional, of course, but all her meetings are also written neatly in a little diary she keeps; her personal life and JL extracurriculars are also neatly coded and transcribed in their own colors in the planner. She writes grocery lists and to-do lists on spare bits of paper, and takes meeting notes in a leatherbound notebook, unless specifically required to be working on an electronic document. She finds there's something satisfying about seeing the ink in front of her.

Yesterday, for example, she jotted a quick to-do list on a sheet of notepaper, and then tacked it to the fridge, so she'd remember to do items three (water succulents on the kitchen and bathroom window sills) and five (check cream level after Steve finishes his coffee) before she leaves in the morning.

She glances over the other eleven items, mentally ticking off what can be completed today while she's running errands on her way to work, and her eyes land on the last line.

There, scrawled in curling letters under her own tight font, is an addition that certainly wasn't there last night: 14. Kiss your husband.

She smiles. That one she'll have no problem checking off.

Steve's out on the terrace, still sipping his coffee, halfway through a crossword puzzle. She swoops in without warning, dropping a quick kiss to his lips, and then another to the top of his head, before whipping out her list and checking off number fourteen.

"Wait, come back," says Steve, setting down the paper.

"I don't know; I'm having a very productive morning and I've already checked it off," Diana teases. "I might have to move on to other things."

"No fair," he pouts.

"The post office is open already," she continues blithely, brandishing the to-do list. "I should probably go there directly."

In a flash, Steve has leaned forward and snatched the list right out of her hands.

"Steve!" she cries, and lunges for it, but by the time their little scuffle is over and it's back in her hands, 15. Let your husband kiss you is scrawled messily along the bottom.

"Well," she says, smirking despite herself, "if the list says so, I can't argue."

"I'm glad you've seen sense," says Steve, leaning in with a gleam in his eye.

She doesn't manage to tick anything else off before work—ends up rushing not to be late, in fact—but she's always felt it's important to be thorough when completing tasks.

***

ii.

It's rainy and gross, the weather just cold enough that it's unpleasant, but not so cold that the rain has turned into snow or sleet. Unfortunately, it's a Thursday.

When Diana's alarm goes off, she groans, and sticks her head under a pillow, and then pulls the duvet over them both.

"Play hooky with me," Steve says sleepily from next to her.

"I cannot just skip work."

"And how many sick days do you have accrued?" asks Steve, who knows perfectly well that the number is high, because Diana doesn't get sick the way mortals do.

Diana mumbles something from under the pillow.

"What was that?"

"...a lot," she says, grudgingly. "But that would be lying; I'm not sick."

"Mental health days are a thing now," reasons Steve. "And how many projects are due today?"

"You know perfectly well there's nothing big until next Wednesday."

Steve burrows under the duvet, so that they're face to face and hidden from the outside world.

"Are we going to do anything productive?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Yes, I suppose that does sound nice."

"Excellent! I lie for a living. I'll telephone both our jobs."

Steve gets up, and Diana rolls into the warm spot he left behind. She can hear the soft murmur of his voice though the wall, and five minutes later he's slipping back into bed, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"All set."

She snuggles into him, and they fall back to sleep to the patter of the rain.

When Diana wakes up the second time, it's raining harder still, but there's the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Steve's sitting up, still in pajamas, reading.

She must've been more tired than she thought, because it's rare that Steve wakes up first.

Diana blinks back the sleep in her eyes and takes a moment to appreciate the picture Steve paints, with his tousled hair and reading glasses. He looks soft and sleepy and perfect, and suddenly she's extremely glad he convinced her to take the day off.

Steve glances over at her, and looks mildly surprised to find she's awake.

He bookmarks his page with care, and then leans over and grabs a steaming mug that was outside her line of vision, offering it to her.

"I did not even hear you get up to make coffee."

"You clearly needed the sleep," Steve says.

"Maybe." Diana sighs, "I suppose I should not lay in bed all day."

"Then I've got just the thing." He offers her a hand, and she lets him lead her out of the bedroom.

In their living room, instead of the normal furniture configuration, there's a glowing mass of sheets. It seems that Steve has taken it upon himself to make a blanket fort, and has decorated it with a string of lights he must have found at the back of the closet. She really can't believe she slept through this.

"You have been looking at Pinterest again, haven't you?"

"No comment."

"It's lovely."

"There's nothing inside, yet. I thought we could do that bit together."

It's perfect, so she says so.

They pull some cushions off the couch and drag their duvet in too, and all of a sudden, the blanket fort is complete and they have a wonderful little rainy-day nest.

"Breakfast in blanket fort?"

She bites her lip and nods. "But in a minute," she adds, catching his hand in hers before he can move away, and for a moment, they lay on their backs, enjoying the flickering lights.

***

iii.

Diana walks into a massacre.

"What happened here?" Deep red stains cover half the visible surfaces.

Steve looks up, guiltily.

"I spilled cold water on one of the hot jars, and it exploded."

"So just to confirm, none of it is your blood?"

"It's one hundred percent cherry preserves."

Diana breathes a sigh of relief. "That is far easier to fix," she says, slipping her arms around his waist from the back and swooping in to kiss his cheek.

Steve spins in her arms to face her. "It was a rookie mistake. With the amount of jam I've made in my lives, it should never have happened."

Diana sweeps a bit of the exploded cherry preserve off of his cheek with her thumb, and then ducks out of his hold to taste it.

"It is excellent."

Steve grins affably, and rinses both his hands and the rag he's holding. "Good, there are a dozen more jars of it cooling in the dining room."

"Only a dozen?" asks Diana in genuine surprise, because Steve has been known to go a little overboard when it comes to making jams.

"Plus a dozen each of raspberry and blueberry preserves."

"Ahh," she says, nodding. That makes a great deal more sense.

"I already cleaned up the glass, and was going to wipe everything down and start on the peaches. Care to join me?"

Diana knows next to nothing about canning and preserving and jellying, but she missed it last year when the Justice League called her out of town unexpectedly. There's no way she's missing it again this year.

"Tell me where to start," she says, smiling.

"With clothes you don't mind getting dirty, for one. As I've clearly demonstrated," Steve jokes, gesturing at his aproned (and sticky) body.

Diana glances down at her several-hundred euro suit, and then makes for the bedroom. "I'll only be a moment."

"I've got nothing but time!" Steve calls after her, jovially.

When she comes back out—now dressed in an ancient t-shirt that she's stolen back from Steve (after he stole it from her last year) and jeans so soft they're practically threadbare—she pauses in the doorframe, watching Steve. He's mostly mopped up the cherry preserves, and he's humming as he towels up the bit that somehow managed to get on the backsplash.

He's probably been at this for hours, and despite the mishap, he's still in an excellent mood. It makes her smile softly.

He catches her eye just as he hits the chorus of the soft '80s song he's singing, and he pulls her behind the island and spins her around. She laughs and plays along, and they rock back and forth a few times, Diana joining him on the last chorus as he hands her an apron.

"If you want to start pitting the peaches, I'll finish cleaning the pot."

They chat about their days as they work (Diana gets a play-by-play of the events leading up to the exploding jar, and Steve gets a run-down on the passive-aggressive email war she's having with the British Museum), and eventually Steve comes over to help her pit and cut the fruit.

Once everything has been dumped into the large copper jam pot, they turn up the radio and dance around the kitchen to old music, stirring intermittently until the peach compote has simmered down and thickened enough that it's time to jar and let it set.

"That was fun," Diana says, as they finish the washing up. Their dining room table has been completely overtaken by jams and preserves cooling in quaint-looking Mason jars, but it's worth it.

"I'm hoping to make elderberry jam still this year, and apple jelly in the late autumn, if you'd like to join me," Steve says, a dish-towel flung over his shoulder. (It's very cute.)

"It's a date," Diana declares, and she sees his eyes flick to her lips.

A second later, their lips meet, slow and languid, and Diana sighs into the kiss. Steve's lips taste vaguely sweet, a little like the peach jam they'd swiped samples of while they worked, and hers probably do too.

If Steve's lucky, he might be able to steal the t-shirt back yet this evening.

***

iv.

There's tittering outside her office, which—if Diana had been paying attention—would've tipped her off twenty minutes ago to the fact that Steve is here. Her interns are a bit of a gossipy bunch this year, and they've all taken a shine to Steve. (Apparently he's the most interesting thing to happen to the office, and the presence of the seemingly straight-laced Mme. Prince's charming significant other is always cause for news in a way little else is.)

As it happens, she's in the middle of updating the care manuals for several artifacts that are about to be going on loan, and misses all the signs until there's a distinctive tap on her door, and Steve lets himself in.

She's always pleased to see him, and doubly so since he's been away for the past ten days on a mission with ARGUS.

"Hello, my love," she says, and leans forward over the desk to give him a quick kiss, before returning to her paper.

A moment later, she looks up, doing a spectacular double take. "You are home early!" exclaims Diana, moving out from behind her desk to give him a proper hug and another kiss.

Steve laughs, and kisses her a third time, on the nose.

"We were in and out without any loose ends to take care of. It went as smoothly as could be expected."

"I'm glad you're home."

"Me too. Care to celebrate with a quick dinner?"

Diana sighs. "I would love to, but these need to be sent out early tomorrow morning."

"Oh, come on. You need to eat at some point. Besides," says Steve. "I've still got the time dilator we found on mission if you need to get the reports done later."

"Steve," she scolds, although there's very little heat to it. "You are not considering used banned tech just for a little extra time with me tonight."

"To have dinner with you at a reasonable hour? I absolutely am." He looks at her imploringly. "We'll just slip out to the little Thai place you love and be back in an hour or two."

Diana has known she was going to give in from the moment he suggested it, but she still scrunches her face a little. "Oh, all right." Steve's victorious smile is actually adorable, and they pass a lovely couple of hours catching up on the last few days.

They get back to her office around 21h00, and instead of leaving, Steve pulls out his laptop.

"You don't have to," Diana protests. "It's late."

Steve just shrugs. "I need to work on my mission report anyways."

Diana acquiesces, simply because she's not-so-secretly pleased to have the company.

(They only have to use the time dilator once.)

Later, after Diana has everything squared away, they decide to walk home, despite the distance and the hour.

They amble along the Seine, arm in arm. The soft light of Paris never gets old, especially the way the hazy reflections ripple in the river. For all the madness of the afternoon, it's been a good day. Diana leans her head on Steve's shoulder, and they stroll on.

***

Midway through her diatribe, Diana flops down in front of him, and leans against his legs, seeking comfort in her frustration. Steve's hands immediately find her hair, and he gently starts rubbing circles into her scalp as she continues the impassioned rant that began a while ago in the kitchen, "—and it is infuriating, because it is not my department, you understand? The only recourse is to file an official complaint, but that could take ages and ages and until then, they are using an outdated method that could potentially cause lasting damage to the artifacts!"

Steve hums sympathetically when Diana pauses to take a sip (well, a swig) of wine, and he splits a bit of her hair to start braiding as she adds, "These are pieces of cultural history, Steve. They should be treated with the utmost respect so that they last for generations to come to tell our history, and instead Michel is going to keep using a compound that will eventually compromise the integrity of the color!"

Steve knows there's a lot of complicated inter-departmental politics and squabbles that mean there's no good way to address the problem.

"—and the way he treats Sophie!" Diana huffs, a clear indication that they're back to Michel—a frequent source of frustration—but on a personal note this time.

"Hair tie," interjects Steve, and without missing a beat, she flicks one off her wrist and hands it to him so he can finish off the braid neatly.

"It is disgusting, and she does not wish to file a complaint, which I understand is her choice, but it still makes me cringe. I wish he would try it on me, because I would break his—"

Diana's phone pings, cutting her off, and she sags against Steve.

"You know you can keep going," Steve says, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, because the content of the rant isn't funny, but the situation is. Several weeks ago, they'd decided to try cutting back on work talk in an effort to keep a healthier work-/home-life balance, and almost invariably, one of them blows through the artificially-imposed time limit. (For reference, Diana holds more blow-throughs, but it was him yesterday, and the day before.) "You don't actually have to stop just because the timer went off."

"It was my idea," Diana says ruefully, running her hand down the tight French braid, subconsciously checking it, "and I still maintain it is a good plan, I am just—"

"Very passionate about things you perceive to be injustices, big or small, yeah, I know," Steve grins. This isn't anything new.

Diana twists around to face him, and rolls her eyes at his expression. "You love me for it."

"Yeah, I do," says Steve, still smiling.

Diana sighs. "The conversation will still be here tomorrow, and I will probably still be annoyed. There is little use in continuing now."

"Unless you want to rant," Steve points out. "That's valid."

"I do, but it will not actually make me feel better. It is not cathartic if it just makes me angrier," says Diana. "Best to step away."

"Want me to set up a bath?"

"No, just come cuddle with me in bed."

"I'll never say no to that."

"Yes, but you have to be the big spoon this time," Diana says.

"I still won't say no, even if little spoon is by far the superior of the two."

Her ensuing laugh rings through the apartment, and her hand skims along the plait again.

"Almost as good as Selene's," she muses, and Steve takes it as the compliment that it is: Selene is an Amazon friend known for the intricacy and skill of her braiding techniques.

"Okay, one good thing about today?" prompts Steve, once they're curled up in bed. They've begun making it a habit to practice gratefulness each evening before bed. Steve read about it in a mindfulness book, and when he'd mentioned it offhandedly, Diana had immediately been on board. "Other than the fact that it's over," he adds, seeing the look on Diana's face.

"You," says Diana, reflexively.

"You say that every night," laughs Steve.

"It does not stop being true."

"I think it's supposed to be something different, each time. To accumulate things you're grateful for."

Diana grumbles, but does pause to come up with something else. "The magnolia trees I pass on my walk to work," she says, finally. "They are in bloom right now, and they brighten my day."

If Steve could answer you, or even say the little smile on Diana's face as she speaks, without sounding like a hypocrite, he would. "I found a little patisserie up by the Bastille that has these lovely little raspberry pastries."

"Mmmm," says Diana, smiling. "You do love raspberries." Then, after a pause, in a softer voice: "The fact that I get to take little things for granted, now, and pretend I do not have to specify the little things for which I am grateful. I know I am not supposed to say you, but I am grateful that you are holding me now."

They talk drowsily for a bit, but soon succumb to sleep.

Here's the thing.

It's Steve's personal policy to never lie to Diana. That's, like, a pretty basic relationship foundation thing, and it's not something he's ever had trouble with.

But there's one white lie that he doesn't suspect he'll ever come clean about: despite what he tells Diana, he doesn't actually think being little spoon is better than being big spoon.

He likes to hold her, likes getting to nose at her neck and loop his arm around her waist. (Big spoon is also less prone to overheating, which does happen sometimes.)

But Steve also knows that Diana sleeps better as big spoon, that being able to physically hold on to him in her sleep is comforting, a balm after years of night terrors and bad dreams and waking up to empty sheets. It's a small price to pay, in the end, knowing that him being the little spoon makes her happy.

It's a secret he'll take with him to the grave.

Steve wakes up in the dead of night, the shadows still long over the bed, the ambient light from Paris's streetlamps a soft glow along the bottom of the windows. It's the foggy sort of waking that means it'll be easy to slip back under, a mere footnote in the night. Just before he drifts off again, he notices that he's now the little spoon. He sighs contentedly, smiles, and falls back asleep.

#wondertrev #wondertrevbingo2020 #wondertrev fanfic #wondertrev fic #diana x steve #steve x diana #fluff #pure fluff #steve just loves diana so much #just quarantine things #lenci writes

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insporaelynn · 4 years ago

Text

📲 raelynn && roman

WHEN: january 24-26th

DESCRIPTION: just best friends talking and being obsessed with each other. rae confides in him about her ex drama.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: drug mention, probably sex mention.

@romanbeckett

Roman

Hi love of my life. I miss your face. How’s it going??

raelynn

my baby

god, i miss you too. i'm doing okay, how're you tonight?

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

it’s been an off day, not even gonna lie lol super sore and tired. I just wanna be back to normal already

raelynn

oh no

how's your scar healing up? the boys are taking care of you right??

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

it’s okay I guess bleh lol and not tonight. I’m all alone

raelynn

Where's Q? Is Aaron working?

Well I guess I should know that since I'm literally at work. Lmao.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

Q is working on music. Aaron has des tonight

raelynn

ugh. i wanna lay with you and kiss ur face.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

are you busyyy? I can burn us some cookies

raelynn

i'm working but I'd love to see you after if you're still up.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

of yeah you just said you’re at work lmao fucking weed

yes please come by when you’re done

raelynn

LMAO I KNOW THE FEELING

absolutely, i'm yours.

u know niamh was trying to figure out who rue's date was and she was like "is it you" bc i mentioned that I have a dick appt with him tomorrow night.

and i was like. dude, no, for like, a thousand reasons. like, why would that ever be me???

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚n.

oh god, I’m so out of the loop with gossip lately, it’s sad. I didn’t even know he had a date lol

raelynn

it's apparently some big secret but he's having people help him dress up and asking about flowers and candy and niamh is like "bitch is it you" and i'm like. LMAO.

like is there anything about me that says flowers and candy

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

Hahahahahhahahahahaha HAHAHA

that really made me laugh too hard.

raelynn

like, i'm not the flowers girl, i'm the sneak out in the night girl, the middle of the afternoon girl, all those things, but flowers girl???? sdkfdskksd

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

I’m 100p a flowers girl

raelynn

YOU ARE AND YOU'RE WORTH IT MY BABY

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

my parents are coming in to town this week. Gotta tell them I have two boyfriends haaaa. Pray for me

raelynn.

I feel like that should be the least shocking thing about you??? In a good way.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

yeah, I definitely keep them on their toes

raelynn

tell ur boyfriend that if he wants me to continue wearing body glitter he's going to have to pay me extra

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

omg but I love body glitter fyi

raelynn

I did an onlyfans video with Lilah earlier and I'm like 80% sure that I left glitter on her sheets. Like I'm a fucking unicorn.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

that makes me so happy I can’t even lie

I too wanna leave glitter everywhere

man I need to do only fans

raelynn

i would a thousand percent subscribe

both bc i'm a perv and also bc i'm a very supportive best friend.

we could get naked and do a body glitter photoshoot

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

and I love this about you

that sounds like a dream?? Wow

raelynn

would love nothing more than to apply body glitter to ur glorious tiddies.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

my tillies would appreciate it

Hahahaa it hurts to laughhhh

raelynn

SORRY SORRY I'M GOING TO BE VERY SERIOUS NOW

clears throat Um. The National Debt.

it is my understanding that there is. National Debt.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

hahahah I love you

raelynn

Blah blah, topics. Blah blah, smart people jargon, blah blah

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

god it’s so boring isn’t it

would so much rather talk about titties

raelynn

God same.

Like how yours are somehow bigger than mine.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

I know, I need some sort of support at this point I think

raelynn

we could get you fitted for bras somewhere maybe that'd be fun

it'd look actually so hot

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

well I already wear lingerie in the bedroom. Might as well.

raelynn

you will be the absolute death of me, you're simply too gorgeous and too sweet to exist.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

stahhpppp you’re making me blushhhh. Right back atcha my babe

raelynn

is there anything you want me to bring you when i'm done here?

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

just yourself. I’ve got good ass weed

raelynn

and for the millionth time, i realized, you are my soul mate.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

you’re mine, lovie.

raelynn

i wish i could've had appendix surgery instead of you

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

noooo don’t be silly lol I’m okay darling.

raelynn.

no i hate that you were in pain even for like a second i hate it so much!!

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

stop it, I love you. You cutie. Oh god okay I’m gonna make us cookies.

raelynn

Dont burn the house down my beautiful twin flame

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

I always get cookie dough thinking I’ll do better next time. I still have that unearned confidence

raelynn.

Thats bc im always building you up and rightfully so

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

yes you do and I live for it. I also really love fresh cookies right out of the oven, I just want to make that happen

raelynn

I believe in you my little tropical starfish

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

raelynn

literally you

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

hehehehe ⭐️

raelynn

i don't think anybody's ever gonna love me more than you

and i think. i think maybe that's okay?

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

that’s not true. You’re gonna find someone who is gonna blow you away

raelynn

yeah but even if i did, would I even be able to love them without being scared of them?

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

yeah, I think so. I’ve had to overcome a lot of walls and fears myself that I never thought I could. The right person makes it easier.

raelynn

idk there are a lot of people i could've loved if i hadn't been so....this lmao

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

I think it’ll just take some time!

raelynn

you have so much faith in me.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

of course I do. I think you can do anything.

raelynn

i'm not really sure.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

you don’t have to be cause I ammmmm

raelynn

and you're the smartest person in the world

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

in the whole world?? Damn. I’m not near as rich as I should be then.

raelynn

how about I stay over with you tonight and we get some breakfast in the morning? I did really good on tips tonight.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

okay!! I’d love that

raelynn

good 'cause i don't get to spend nearly as much time with you as i wanna

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

I knowwww. We haven’t had a sleepover in so long

raelynn

you can cuddle up to me and i'll feed you cookies and kiss your hair

revolutionary. better than therapy.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

Yes!!!!

raelynn

loml

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

I finished the cookies baby and I didn’t burn them to a crisp

raelynn

you fucking legend

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

I’m pretty damn proud of myself not gonna lieeeee

[...]

raelynn

extremely sad that i couldn't stay at breakfast with you all day

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

same

now I’m bored

raelynn

i swear after i left you my day went down the tubes.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

oh no I’m sorry

who do I need to fight

raelynn

well carson is back.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

oh god, tell me more

raelynn

idk why he's back but wes gave him my number bc i guess when i told him to lose it he took it to heart which like good i wanted him to

but anyway i screamed at him in the chat

everyone called me a hypocrite bc i told ivy to stop being a bitch in the chat awhile back. which tbh i didn't remember even doing, i just be saying shit.

like alex opened his fuckin mouth and i'm like what dog do you have in this fight

oh and DELILAH is moving in with carson bc he's "like her brother!!!" never mind the fact that he cheated on me bc i guess friendship doesn't mean much anymore

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

wow that’s...messy. Wtf lilah though seriously

raelynn.

So then Carson texts me bc wes gave him my number and that felt like being??? Pushed back in time against my will

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

that’s not cool

raelynn

So yeah a lot of crying today

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

*chick with knife emoji*

me rn

raelynn

Cute but lethal

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

*img attachment*

and not at all high...

raelynn.

you're so hot jesus christ.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

I love you.

raelynn.

love u more than life itself

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

*img attachment of a keychain that says PUSSY WAGON*

this was recommended to me on Instagram and now I want it.

raelynn

LET'S GET THEM MATCHING.

EVEN THOUGH I DON'T HAVE A CAR

AND THEREFORE NO KEYS FOR SAID CAR

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

it would be perfect for my Volkswagen

raelynn.

omg and with me in it...it really WOULD be a pussy wagon......

big brain

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

hahahahah

raelynn

we should road trip soon

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

I would love that so much honestly

raelynn

where should we go?

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

Disney world!!

raelynn

will u propose to me there

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

wouldn’t that be romantic as heck

raelynn.

THE most romantic and also we'd maybe get free dessert

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

I never turn down anything free.

raelynn

me neither. not the taylor family way

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

hahaha I love you.

raelynn.

we'll start planning a summer trip, just us.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

yay yay yay yay!

raelynn.

i'm gonna wear a tiara the whole time.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.BOT01/25/2021

with Mickey ears?

raelynn.BOT01/25/2021

of course, i'm not a monster.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

hahahaa

[...]

raelynn

I hate dudes.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

they’re a mess aren’t they lol

raelynn

Had a temporary lapse in sanity and agreed to meet Carson for coffee lol and he canceled like 15 mins before we were supposed to meet for a probably fake meeting lmao its so typical but I fell for it

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

babe I’m so sorry

raelynn

Like im just so tired

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

how can I make it better

raelynn.

I don't know honestly and I wish I did.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

I love you.

raelynn

I love you.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

you’re my baby

raelynn

you're MY baby

#texts #texts: roman #ch: roman

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bobwuzhere · 4 years ago

Text

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#ninebot es2 vs es4 #es2 vs es4 #segway es2 vs es4

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detectivegabor · 5 years ago

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Buzz Buzz Bitch || Discord Para

FEATURING: Bianca and Bernard (( @detectivenewhart ))

RATING: EC ( Emotionally Compromising )

RATING: G

BRIEF SUMMARY: This takes place after Bianca’s drinks with Anita (and Bianca’s subsequent drunk texts to Bernard). In spite of the title, it gets sappy as shit. Warning that there’s a lot of mental hoop jumping and general stupidity.

BIANCA: By the time that Bianca heard a car pulling up to the curb, she had forgone sitting on the bench in favour of lying on her back while scrolling through old pictures on her phone. Turning her head, she saw a familiar figure and immediately sat up and swung her legs off the bench before instinctively reaching out to grip the edge of it. Woah. Okay. Apparently moving too quickly after many gin and tonics equalled a lot of dizziness. She would try to remember that.

After gathering her bearings, she pocketed her phone and offered up a bright, excited smile as she bounced to her feet. "Knighthart!" she exclaimed happily, practically leaping forward and jumping up to wrap herself around him without even remotely considering whether or not he would even be able to catch her.

BERNARD: Did he understand that she lived 15 minutes from Mount Olympus? Yes of course he did. Did that mean he wouldn't worry the whole time at home? Hell no. He knew she could take care of herself, of course he knew that. He meant what he said, this drive was for his peace of mind. To know she got home safe and that she was actually going to rest properly. A hungover Bianca did not make for a fun work environment.

He'd pulled up near where she'd asked him to. Pulling out his phone he rolled his eyes at the barrage of messages he'd received while driving over. Hopping out he was debating calling her when he heard a familiar voice shout out. Barely able to put his phone up he grunted at the impact managing to catch her and still keep his footing. " Jesus Christ Gabor warn a guy. Also really buzz buzz bitch?" he questioned adjusting his grip to settle her back down. Knowing her he already knew she was gonna be a handful for him tonight.

BIANCA: "Please, you know you love it," Bianca replied with a happy grin, bopping his nose affectionately with her index finger and pinching his cheek before settling back down onto the ground, albeit with some difficulty. She teetered slightly in her heels, keeping her hands pressed against his chest as she tried to regain her balance, eventually finding her footing. Bianca could easily walk around in heels for a 12 hour shift and not struggle whatsoever. Keeping her balance in them while drunk was a different story.

Looking at him, she blinked a couple of times as her brain tried and mostly failed to process how close he was, before she suddenly pulled away and reached for the door on the passenger side of the car. "I still maintain that this was totally unnecessary, by the way," she quipped as she pulled the door open and clambered into the car. "But I'm not complaining. I could totally get used to having this level of service."

BERNARD: Bernard made a noncommittal noise, his face scrunching up when she bopped and pinched him. He kept his hands firmly on her waist as she found her balance. "Careful there, I'm not carrying you if you end up breaking an ankle," he said an amused grin on his face. Most of the time Bianca was at 100 percent and completely put together. So when she was like this, more open and a little goofy, he couldn't help but smile. It was hard to be annoyed with her when she looked this cute.

"You can maintain it all you want from the passenger side," he shot back getting back into the driver's side. Rolling his eyes he started up on the short drive to her place, "I better be getting 5 stars and a nice tip from you," he quipped back. Glancing at her during a red light he raised a brow curiously, "Were you drinking solo tonight?"

BIANCA: "You're not going to carry me?" Bianca asked, furrowing her eyebrows dramatically as she fastened her seatbelt and settled against the seat, closing her eyes and mumbling her next words in a manner that made it difficult to tell if she was drunk or just petulant. She just barely managed to stop herself from pouting outrageously like an actual child. "You're not a very good knight. Maybe I should take back your new nickname."

Prying one eye open, she turned her head to look at him with a tired but amused, and somewhat loopy smile on her face. "I'll give you five stars if you carry me," she teased, before shaking her head. "And no, 's not alone. 'S with Anita. Oooooh, speaking of, here's a funny story." Bianca snapped her fingers and pointed in his direction. "Guess who Anita has a tiny crush on? Here's a hint: we recently deleted footage of him in the pool from the festival. Small world, huh?"

BERNARD: "Would you like some cheese with your wine, your majesty," he replied the smile never slipping off his face. It wasn't often that she was so obvious when annoyed or riled up. Usually it would take a few back and forth remarks before he could get a proper reaction. So was he planning on milking this as much as he could? Most definitely. Glancing at her, he chuckled and said, "New nickname? Here I thought I was just being assigned a new job title as your personal servant. Be at your call for all your late night needs."

He was grateful the streets were clear so late at night. It made for an easier and quicker drive for them both. Pretending to mull over her request he shook his own head back at her, "Fine, but only because I love you." Listening to her next response his eyes widened in surprise before dramatically shaking his head again. "I know this is a small town but this is just getting ridiculous." Pausing he glanced at her brow furrowed in concern, "And how do you feel about it? I know you said you didn't want to date him but...no regrets now?"

BIANCA: Bianca rolled her eyes, her expression even more dramatic than it had been a couple of seconds earlier (if that was even possible), but even if she did her best to seem annoyed, there was an unmistakeable fond smile on her face. She couldn't help it. Just being around Bernard had that effect on her. There was no logical explanation for it, really, it just simply... Made her happy. "Isn't that what you already are?" she asked with a grin, keeping her eyes on him even when he had to turn back to look at the road. Although, all things considered, it was probably a good thing that he couldn't see the look in her eyes.

"And I love you too," she continued, the teasing tone in her voice slipping somewhat in favour of something that sounded almost painfully earnest. For a moment, Bianca found herself forgetting what they had even been talking about, lost in how comfortingly quiet it was save for the sound of them driving home, before she managed to pull herself out of her reverie. "Nah, no regrets," she confirmed, lifting her shoulder in a small shrug. "I mean, I had a lot of rational, practical reasons for not wanting to date him, but at the end of the day none of that would have mattered if he was the one. But he's not. I already know that."

BERNARD: "Depends on who you ask I suppose. The title seems to always change, I'm either your servant or your work husband. Or your Bernard," the last one was usually after meeting one of her friends like Roger. He didn't mind, after all these years he was hers and she was his.

At the tone change he glanced at her to make sure everything was alright. He barely caught the look on her face before his eyes went back on the road. That familiar warmth spread from his chest outwards. As much as they teased and bickered, if never went too far. He could count on one hand the number of times they had actually fought, but they always worked through it. He never doubted she loved him even if they got heated and he knew she felt the same, it was the trust they built over the years that always kept them together. Slowly pulling next to her apartment building he found a spot near enough to park at. "Always the rational one, you know considering your history I'm starting to think nothing short of a demigod is gonna be the one for you," he said as he started to get out and go over to her side. Moving to her side he opened the door, " If I'm carrying you, you better at least be able to open the door," he teased while moving forward to pick her up once she was ready.

BIANCA: Your Bernard. Bianca smiled slightly to herself, repeating the words in her head as they slowly pulled up next to her apartment building, as if trying to savour the warmth that she felt in her chest from just hearing it phrased that way. She just barely managed to stop herself from blurting out how much she liked the sound of that. That it didn't really matter what they were to each other, because at the end of the day, he was her Bernard. And she was his Bianca.

She rolled her eyes again at his comment, mostly because they'd had this particular conversation about her standards being way too high so many times that almost knew it off by heart, but also partially because she was drunk enough to wonder briefly how on Earth he couldn't see that her standards were high because her standards started and ended with him. "There's nothing wrong with having high standards," she quipped back, pulling her heels off her feet and holding them in one hand while pulling her keys out of her pocket with the other, holding them up so that he could see that she had them before reaching out for him to pick her up. "Who's to say I don't deserve a demigod?"

BERNARD: High standards? Well that was one way to put it he mused. Over the years he'd learned more on her tastes, though giving up the Harvard grad still through him every now and then when he thought about it. On paper the match made sense, but then again no one ever accused Bianca about being conventional. If she was they probably wouldn't be partners, or she'd have gone on to become a diplomat of some form. He was grateful it was dark as he flinched at that line of thought. His stomach churned uncomfortably, the idea of a life without her always left him feeling hollow.

He forced those thoughts away focusing instead on her. "No there's not, especially when you're you. Getting 10s across the board all the time," he said. He wasn't blind, he knew his partner was attractive and how much attention she received. While occasionally he felt something over it , he assumed it was his own high standards when it came to her. She was his best friend, while she was free to choose whoever she wanted he still reserved the right to want someone truly amazing for her. Pulling her out of the car he used the side of his body to push the door shut adjusting her so she was pressed close to him. "Better hope this demigod actually picks up in the middle of the night," he shot back as he began to carry her towards the front door of her building, "So do I lose my knighthood when this demigod comes in to the picture?"

BIANCA: An amused and somewhat pleased smirk played on her lips at his description of her. Bianca was a confident person, and she knew exactly what she looked like; she even took advantage of it occasionally, both personally and professionally, although when it came to the latter it was usually only as a last resort. And yes, Bernard made comments sometimes about the people who flirted with her, and yes, sometimes those comments weren't flattering (they weren't mean, he was too diplomatic for that, but they weren't flattering). And yes, there was a part of her that wanted to read into that, badly, but she always managed to convince herself not to. It was just him being a good friend. A best friend. Like it should be.

She followed his movements instinctively when he adjusted his grip on her, pulling herself as close to him as possible and briefly resting her head against him, feeling so effortlessly comfortable in this position that a part of her thought that if she didn't have to pay attention to opening the door, she could've easily fallen asleep like that. "Hey, who says I'll stop texting you in the middle of the night even if I have my demigod?" she asked as they made their way up the stairs and to her front door. Pulling back slightly, she reached out to unlock the door before continuing, looking at him as she did. "You'll always be my favourite, Knighthart. No matter who else is in the picture."

BERNARD: Walking into her building he took the elevator up to the 2nd floor. Over the years they'd jumped between both their apartments. Hell he even had a small dresser in his guest room full of her stuff. Also it wasn't the first time he'd carried her back home after drinks, nor would it be the last he mused.

Getting to the door was easy enough as they talked, "Oh great, and here I was worried I was going to be out of a job when you met the one." Again that feeling nagged at him but he shrugged it off. While her meeting someone would mean less time with him, he'd be happy as long as she was. Walking in he smiled glancing down at her for a moment, "You're lucky you're mine too, or else I'd have let you walk," he teased. Giving her a moment to lock the door he kept a careful hold of her not wanting to let her fall. While he could have set her down it felt nice to be able to hold her. He enjoyed having her close to him, one of the few people he let into his bubble. Taking her into her room he set her down on her bed before sitting down near her, "Gonna be close to almost 3:30 by the time I get home," he grumbled letting out a yawn towards the end.

BIANCA: "Would you though?" Bianca retorted, tossing her keys onto the small table by the door before once more draping her arms over his shoulders and pulling herself closer to him, her forearms crossing behind his neck. To be honest, she expected him to put her down as soon as they reached her apartment, but she wasn't about to complain about it when he didn't. She liked being this close to him. She liked it a lot. In fact, it was probably the most comfortable and at ease that she'd felt for days, as if she hadn't realised quite how much tension she was carrying in her body until she felt it all dissipating.

She was half-tempted to just lay down and go to sleep after he put her down, but then years of experience of getting home drunk and somehow still managing to get ready for bed kicked in, and she swung her legs off the side of the bed. Unbuttoning her blouse, she pulled it off and tossed it on the floor next to the bed, quickly followed by her undoing her pants and doing the same thing. Reaching for a t-shirt (which was also on the floor), she put it on before removing her bra and dropping it into the pile of clothes that she'd created, before sinking back onto the bed with a contented sigh. "By the time you get home?" she asked, reaching out to pull him down onto the bed with her. "Nuh-uh. You're not going anywhere."

BERNARD: "Only if you weren't being a brat," he replied though he knew it was a lie. He'd carry her whininess and all, even if he'd complain during it. It was rare for him to really deny her anything or go against her wishes. Not because she was overbearing, but because he simply didn't feel the need to. He enjoyed making her happy, and not only that but their relationship was also one built on mutual respect. If he really had a problem with something he knew she'd listen to him and respect his own wishes. It was one of many things he truly loved about her.

His neck felt like it almost broke with how quickly he glanced away from her. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her undress in the locker room or from the occasional vacation, but in her room it felt oddly intimate. His face heated up a bit as he waited patiently for her to finish up so he could tuck her in. He turned slowly when she spoke to avoid peeking, eyes focused on her face. Because of this he hadn't expected to be grabbed. Barely catching himself, he had both hands on either side of her waist to hold himself up to avoid landing his full weight on her. "Little warning next time B. So what am I on couch duty then?" He asked face a few inches above hers.

BIANCA: As it turned out, Bianca's drunk logic didn't take nearly as far as she wanted to think that it did, at least not when it came to anticipating the consequences of her own actions. For example, she had grabbed Bernard to pull him down with her solely because she didn't want him to leave, not even thinking about the fact that it would inevitably land them in this position; with him hovering a few inches above her, and her staring up at his face without being able to look away. And she didn't want to look away. She liked looking at him.

Blinking a few times, she waited for her brain to fill with some kind of reasonable thought or even instinct that would pull her back from the edge, like it had earlier that night. Like it had every time she'd found herself veering a little too closely to crossing a line that she couldn't come back from. But nothing happened, and all that she could think about was that she loved him and that she wanted to be close him. "No," she replied, shaking her head slightly before leaning up to press a soft, brief kiss to his lips. "Stay here."

BERNARD: This hadn't been the most comfortable position to land in. He kept adjusting his hands to keep at least some level of space between them. It really shouldn't have been as surprising to him as it was when she'd pulled him closer. What should have been actually surprising was when she brushed her lips against his. He remained still letting her have control over the moment. As he looked at her there was a brief moment where he thought about what had just occurred; before he licked his lips and the faint aftertaste of gin hit him. Right then. That was what this was. For a second he felt like he'd lost something with that realization before shrugging the feeling off. A soft smile formed on his lips as he leaned forward and lightly kissed her forehead.

Shifting he sat up and moved to lay down next to her. "Only cause you're my favorite," he said fondness creeping into his voice despite his best attempts to play casual. His lack of sleep was starting to affect his filter. He debated keeping his pajama pants on but he usually ran hot at night. With another person in the bed he'd be even warmer which wasn't particularly appealing. "Would you be terribly offended if I slept in my boxers?"

BIANCA: Clearly, Bianca wasn't thinking. If she had been thinking, then she wouldn't have leaned up to kiss him. Hell, she wouldn't have pulled him down into the bed with her in the first place. For a brief moment, as silence filled the room and the world stood still around them, she watched his reaction carefully and wondered if this was the tipping point that would inevitably change things between them. It was a thought that scared her, because she didn't want things to change between them, until he smiled softly and seemed to brush it off, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Relief, followed by just a hint of disappointment.

Pushing that feeling as far down as she could, Bianca returned his smile and turned around so that she was still facing him, her body curling up slightly as she settled against the pillow. "Oh, please, of course I wouldn't be offended," she mumbled teasingly, her lack of sleep finally starting to catch up with her again. "Nobody with eyes would be offended by that."

BERNARD: Physical contact wasn't something he excelled at. For so long it been him and his mom, and even then they had their own small ways of doing things. Even now he struggled with letting people touch him. The touches lingered like a sting on his skin reminding him of where it had happened. The amount of people he allowed into his personal space he could count on one hand. Then there was her, the exception to almost every rule he had. Without even trying a connection to her had formed that had left him reeling at first. For once he'd simply gone with his own feelings and now he had someone in his life he never wanted to lose. To let her in like that had terrified him, but he had never regretted his decision. Through their whole partnership and friendship, she had always been worth the risk to him.

Chuckling he stood up and took off his pajama pants. He neatly folded them and set them down on the ground by his shoes and socks. Laying back down he eyed her curiously, "what are you talking about now?" Bringing a hand up he ran his fingers through her hair gently stroking the top of her head. "That statement applies more to you than me."

BIANCA: Bianca hadn't lived a bad life before she moved to Andromeda. In fact, she had lived a very good life, the kind of life that had opened doors for her that wouldn't have been open to her otherwise, or that at the very least would have been infinitely more difficult for her to get to. But for as long as she could remember, she had been surrounded by people who on some level bored her, or held her back, and made her wonder if there wasn't something more to life than this. And she had felt that way until she met Bernard.

Bernard was different. He was so different, in fact, that when she had first met him, it made her wonder if she'd been hanging out with cardboard cutouts her entire life and he was the first real person that she had met. How she felt about him as a person was deep and profound, and there wasn't anything on the planet that she wouldn't do to protect what they had with each other. Including ignoring how she actually felt about him. "Are you saying that you think I'm attractive?" she asked teasingly, almost as if to spite the part of herself that could feel her heart about to leap out of her chest when he ran his fingers through her hair. Shifting closer, Bianca curled up against him and closed her eyes, readjusting her position a couple of times as she tried to get as comfortable as possible. "If anything, I'd say that statement applies to both of us."

BERNARD: It had been an average day when he'd realize how much he really wanted her around him. Well maybe not average, it had been an actually awful day. He'd walked under a ladder on accident and like a self fulfilling prophecy he'd focused on all the negatives that had come from his mistake. His pens had gone missing, he'd spilled coffee on his new shirt, and the printer had then spat ink onto his jeans. The straw that broke him was when he'd gone to grab his lunch only to find the refrigerator had broken down and everything had spoiled. He recalled storming out to sit outside on a bench willing himself to relax. He was still new to managing his OCD and anxiety, he felt damn near ready to call it a day. And then like always she was next to him, lunch in hand and good conversation to get him out of his head. It was when he was back at his desk that he had realized how quiet his head had been, that it was the first time he'd smiled and laughed all day. It was that day he noticed how much of an impact she had on him. The new pack of pens at his desk had damned near made him want to cry. It was the day he realized that she had his back and that they where more than partners. They were actually friends.

Glancing at her he felt that familiar warmth spread through him. The fondness and friendship he had with her had slowly formed to actual love. He knew he loved her, she was his best friend after all. Chuckling he continued to stroke her head, "I'm not blind you know. I wasn't kidding when I said you have 10s across the board. You're brilliant, charming, hard working, and you have a good heart. Being stunningly beautiful will just be a nice bonus for when you find the one." Was he being a bit too honest, maybe, but it was late and the warmth in his chest had yet to fade. Moving his hand he wrapped an arm around her waist letting her choose how close they were. For a moment he let himself feel a bit bittersweet knowing that when she did find the one these moment would become fewer. Still he could enjoy his time with her while he was granted it. "Hmm if you say so," he said softly. While he didn't see himself as ugly he also didn't consider himself in her league. Years of being in the background had left him feeling fairly average.

BIANCA: There had been a series of moments throughout their partnership when Bianca had realised exactly how much Bernard meant to her and how much better her life was for having him in it. She had realised that she needed him when she had been about to lose her temper on a suspect and just the feeling of his hand on her shoulder was enough to calm her down. She had realised that she loved him when he'd found her in the locker room, practically near tears after an exceptionally bad day at work, and she'd cried while he hugged her until she was able to pull herself together. But it was on a totally ordinary day, when she had looked over at him from her desk and smiled to herself at all the little isms in his expressions and how he carried himself that made Bernard so Bernard, that she had realised that she was in love with him. And since then, she had tried her best to ignore that fact in favour of all of the other important things that she felt about him.

She had done relatively well at that, all things considered. But it was getting increasingly difficult to pretend that she didn't have these feelings for him when he looked at her and spoke about her in the way that he did and she couldn’t stifle the traitorous part of her that hoped it meant something more than it did. Or when they talked about a hypothetical future romantic partner that she already knew she would never have because she knew who the one for her was and he was standing right in front of her. Or, in this case, lying right beside her. “Damn, Knighthart,” she murmured softly, shuffling closer until she was practically draped over him, having forgone her pillow in favour of holding him close to her and resting her head against his chest. “Did you practice that speech in your head? ‘S very good.” Smiling to herself, Bianca found her mind wandering to a memory from a couple of months ago, a conversation in which he had suddenly asked her if she thought that he would make a good boyfriend, and she had said yes, because of course he would be. Just not to her. “I love you,” she whispered, as she allowed herself to pretend, for just a moment, that maybe it could be her. “I mean it.”

BERNARD: Bernard settled into the bed keeping one arm around her, he brought his other arm to wrap around her waist alternating between drawing random shapes on her back and just running his fingers through her hair. Leaning his head closer to hers he gave a half hearted shrug. "Not much to practice, just stating the facts B," he murmured shifting closer to get comfortable. Maybe she would fine someone, and maybe that would mean less time for them. But he'd just have to appreciate what he had now more then. He was grateful enough just to be by her side, the same way he'd been grateful she'd chosen him as her partner.

At her words he smiled and kissed the top of her. "Trust me I'm well aware how much you love me. Doubt you'd put up with me if you didn't," he said chuckling softly. It was starting to get harder to stay awake his eyes getting heavier. He felt comfortable, the usual noise in his head full of anxiety and insecurities quieted downed for now. "I love you more than anyone, B."

BIANCA: The trouble with the situation that they were in was that it was too easy. It was too easy for her to get comfortable with him like this, too easy for her to feel him drawing random shapes on her back or running his fingers through her hair and imagine that this wasn't two best friends falling asleep beside each other, but something much more than that. It was easy to pretend, because deep down that was what she wanted. She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything else. She just didn't want to admit that to herself.

"No, I'm being serious," she replied a little louder, opening her eyes and pulling away from him slightly so that she could look at his face when she continued. She suddenly felt wide awake, looking at him like she was trying to tell him something incredibly important, and imploring him to read between the lines. "I really love you. Do you understand what I mean? I love love you."

BERNARD: This was nice he thought vaguely, the warmth from her spreading through him. For a brief moment he wondered if sleeping with her was better for him in the long run. He already felt better in the few moments they'd been together than the days following that festival. His brain felt mellowed out and he was struggling to stay awake and choose his words.

When she pulled away he made a noise of discontent immediately trying to pull her back before she started speaking. Watching her he brought a hand up cupping her cheek. Stroking her cheek with his thumb he lightly brushed it against her lips. Leaning forward he pressed his forehead against hers, "I seriously love love you too, B, and I’ll seriously love love you in the morning. But you need sleep and I need sleep.”

BIANCA: Bianca was so focused on what she was saying and what she was trying to convey to him, albeit perhaps not as clearly as she thought that she was being, so much so that she almost flinched when he reached out to cup her cheek. Closing her eyes, she practically held her breath as she felt his thumb brush against her lips, that stubborn hope in her heart allowing her to consider for a moment that maybe, just maybe, he was about to lean in and kiss her. But then he didn't, and she felt herself plummeting back to reality.

Whatever door she had been about to walk through slammed shut when she opened her eyes and realised that he was simply leaning his forehead against hers. It was locked and bolted when he opened his mouth to speak and the main thing to come out was that they both needed sleep. "Yeah, you're probably right," Bianca replied, feeling the disappointment stinging in her eyes and trying her best not to let it show as she took a deep breath and settled back against him. She could do this. She could go back to pretending that this had never happened. She had been doing it for years. "G'night, Bernard."

#c: bernard #p: buzz buzz bitch

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dramarising-replacement · 5 years ago

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I get that you can't retroactively apply rules to a thread and the original poster on this one is long gone anyway, but man does the I Know That Reference thread drive me casually insane sometimes. It's one of those threads that runs smoothly ninety-five percent of the time, but just takes one person to clog up the workings something awful.

A list of rules that nobody asked for:

-Please have fandragons from a few different fandoms before posting. "Please have a few different fandragons" is an equally necessary start, but it doesn't matter if you have one or thirty fandragons from insert light novel here; either the next person's going to know that fandom or they won't. The more fandoms you have, the more people can play the game with you.

-Think twice about posting if you don't have any 'easy' fandragons. Everyone loves recognition for the fandoms dearest to their heart, and that's often the rarer ones we get to share less often, but if your lair is one hundred percent fandragon hard mode, the entire thread will stop cold until either a.) somebody who knows one of your obscure references walks in, b.) someone bites the bullet and gives a wishy-washy 'I think I recognize this guy from somewhere' answer (which is awful on any other occasion), or c.) somebody forgets to check the latest page, responds to someone else, and the thread skips over you.

-On that note, fandragons of characters are [I]much[/I] easier to recognize than fandragons of songs, locations, or concepts. It's mimicry versus interpretation.

-Don't claim before looking at the lair ahead of you - if it turns out they don't have anything you recognize, you're going to essentially skip them. Wait for someone else.

-If your lair isn't organized, [I]please[/I] tell people where your fandragons are.

-If someone has a lair tab named 'fandragons', and their post says 'my fandragons are in tabs A, B, and C,' don't pick something from tab F. Yes, that dragon is named Jade and looks a bit like a jade carving, but that clearly isn't something that user considers a fandragon.

-[I]Don't make giant lists telling people who not to pick[/I]. My rule of thumb is that if I can't remember the instructions you gave me when I leave the thread and enter your lair, it wasn't fair of you to ask me to. There's nothing wrong with 'try to pick a less obvious one if you can' or 'this guy isn't a fandragon of this fandom everyone thinks he is' or just 'ignore these two', but when you have a list of 46 of your 93 fandragons in over 15 different fandoms the user following you is not allowed to pick, you're causing problems. This is supposed to be a fun thread anyone can swing into and check out each others' lairs and likes, not a surgically-precise tool on how to best stroke your ego.

And building on that, when you're asking people not to pick dragons that everyone else picks... the reason most people pick those dragons is because they're the ones most people recognize. I think that most users will go for the most obscure reference they can find out of sheer excitement and-or 'look at me, I knew that!', but more often than not, they just won't recognize anything in your lair outside the mainstream. Yeah, I have dragons whose being identified would make my day, but the thread's for everyone. The person following me should be having fun, not feeling bad about themselves and hesitating to post because the only three fandoms they recognized were ones I asked them to ignore. And I think that's still a little true even if I was polite about it.

Huge tl;dr, but it really comes down to "can a totally random internet-dweller be expected to find something in your lair without keeping your post open in another window and without having to click through twenty-plus bios individually?" And if the answer is no, then maybe think about changing something up before you join in.

#Rant #Long post #Petty #Forums #submission

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motivatingspeech · 5 years ago

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Who is Tony Robbins: 15 Things You Don't Know About Tony Robbins.

Who is Tony Robbins? Tony Robbins is a motivational speaker, best-selling author, self-help guru and a businessman. Robbins was born on February 29, 1960 in California. After a difficult childhood he went out on his own and started promoting seminars for motivational speaker Jim Rohn. From there Tony developed his own business as a self-help coach and began hosting seminars. His business began to take off when he started producing infomercials to advertise his books and services over the years. Tony has helped countless celebrities, powerful businessman and everyday people through his individual coaching, weekend seminars books and philanthropy. His celebrity clients include Serena Williams, Leonardo DiCaprio, Oprah Winfrey, Bill Clinton, Chuck Liddell and Hugh Jackman, over 40 years in the business he remains as relevant and successful as ever, where the net worth of around four hundred and eighty million dollars and about thirty million earned annually.

Let’s look at the 15 interesting facts you didn’t know about Tony Robbins:

1. Tony Robbins’s mother kicked him out of the house as a teenager. Tony's parents divorced when he was seven and then his mother had a series of boyfriends and husbands. One of her husband's was a semi-professional baseball player named Jim Robbins who legally adopted Tony when he was 12. When his adopted father abandoned the family, Robbins had to step in as a provider and worked to support his siblings. His mother turned to alcohol and prescription drugs and Tony described his home life as chaotic and abusive. When he was 17 years old his mother chased him out of the house with a knife and Tony never returned. He reconciled with his mother much later and even bought her a beach house in 1991. 2. Tony Robbins grew ten inches in one year because of a tumor. Everyone knows that Tony Robbins is a really tall but most people don’t realize this is due to a medical condition in his sophomore year. In high school Tony was Five feet one inch tall and over the next year he grew ten inches. Nobody knew at the time that he had actually had a pituitary tumor that caused the growth. His height is now six foot seven. 3. Tony Robbins worked as a janitor after he was kicked out of the house. Tony took a job as a janitor where he was making $40 a week. He then started on his own career path when he started working for a motivational speaker Jim Rohn. His job was to call people and convince them to go to Jim’s motivational seminars. Jim took him under his wing and taught him to not ask that life would be easier but that he would be better. 4. Tony Robbins started gaining recognition when he cured somebody’s snake phobia in 15 minutes. When Tony made the claim that he could cure somebody's phobia in 15 minutes, he was publicly attacked on the radio by a psychiatrist who said he was nothing but a charlatan and a liar. Tony challenged her to bring her patients suffering from a phobia of snakes to the Holiday Inn and the following night he would prove himself. It became a bit of a media spectacle but Tony was up for the challenge. The woman who had been suffering from a paralyzing fear of snakes for seven years was cured by Tony in less than 15 minutes and actually allowed Tony to wrap a snake around her shoulders with no fear. Accepting challenges became a signature move of Tony's and helped to elevate his career. 5. Tony Robbins charges businesses a consulting fee of 1 million dollars for his services. Among his other endeavors Tony offers executive consulting and business coaching services. Tony has trained a number of coaches that can be hired by businesses through the Tony Robbins results coaching program. But if you want to hire Tony himself, you have to be ready to pay up. Tony is the most expensive business coach with a fee of 1 million dollars per year in addition to sharing the company’s profits for the year. He claims he can bring a return on investment of up to seven hundred percent more than the initial investment. 6. Tony Robbins plans to feed 1 billion people in the next 10 years. Tony was extremely poor growing up and his family struggled to buy food. When he was 17 and first started having money himself, he paid for two family’s Thanksgiving dinners. The next year he fed for families and tried to double it every year. When he found real success he started buying Thanksgiving dinner for four million people every year for 12 years. When he received a five million dollar advance for his 2017 book called unshakeable your financial freedom playbook, he gave all the money to a charity called feeding America. He then asked the group how much it would cost to feed 100 million people and he says he wrote them a much bigger check to make that happen. He plans on feeding a billion people over the next 10 years. 7. During one day of his seminar Tony’s activity is the equivalent of running a marathon. Tony says that on his most intense day in his seminars his activity is the equivalent of running a marathon. He is very active during his seminars. Running and walking and interacting with the audience. He regularly does 27 miles in one day all while staying on stage and presenting his program. The activity does take a toll on his body but Tony says he uses cryotherapy to help his body recover. Cryotherapy involves getting into a machine for an intense several minutes. While your body is cooled with the use of liquid nitrogen to temperatures that are sometimes even colder than negative 200 °F. 8. Tony Robbins owns a mansion near Palm Beach Florida. Tony travels about 200 days a year. But the other days he comes home to a twenty four point seven five million dollar beachfront mansion in Palm Beach County. He looked at 88 properties in three states in just three weeks before purchasing the newly built home and he decided to move to Florida because they have no income tax. He stays in the first floor master suite and there are five additional bedrooms upstairs. Other features include an infinity pool. Nearly 200 feet of private beach a 50 foot boat dock and two acres of land. 9. Tony Robbins’ favorite music artist is Diddy. Tony thanks listening to music increases productivity and can provide motivation. He loves rap music and says he especially loves any song by Diddy. 10. Bill Clinton called him for advice before he was impeached. In 1998, Bill Clinton found himself in hot water when he lied about his relationship with Monica Lewinsky. While giving testimony in a sexual harassment lawsuit filed against him by Paula Jones, the night before he was impeached. Clinton reached out to Tony Robbins and asked for advice .Tony told Clinton to think about what he wanted his legacy to be and to choose his actions carefully because at the end of the day he had to be able to look himself in the face. 11. Tony Robbins declined to help Alex Rodriguez, a.k.a. A-Rod. Tony is approached by an untold number of people every year who want his help and advice one person who reached out to Tony was former Yankees baseball star Alex Rodriguez. Otherwise known as A-Rod. He called Tony while he was caught up with some controversy while he was still a part of the Yankees. But Tony said he simply didn't have the time to help him. 12. Tony Robbins owns a five-star resort in Fiji. Robbins's favorite place in the world is the Namale Resort and Spa in Fiji. He loves it so much that he bought it. The five-star all-inclusive Resort is where Tony hosts some of his life and wealth mastery seminars Oprah listed the resort as one of her favorite things in 2012. But you practically have to have Oprah’s deep pockets to stay there. A one night stay in June starts at 1145 dollars. 13. Tony Robbins first declined his role in SHALLOW HAL. Tony Robbins plays himself in the 2001 Farrelly Brothers movie Shallow Hal. But it took some convincing at first he declined the role because he wasn’t interested in acting. But when he received the script and saw the message of the movie was embracing inner beauty and not being a surface driven person he reconsidered. What really convinced him to do the movie was finding out that the writer of the script had purchased Tony’s personal power audio program often infomercial years prior. However Tony was not a fan of the lines written for him. So he asked if he could improvise. He said that when he smacked Jack Black on the head in a scene and said Devils come out that Jack had no idea was coming and the reaction on camera was real. 14. Tony Robbins bought a private jet in 2015. After years of flying commercial and chartering private jets Tony finally decided to buy his own. He bought a Bombardier Global Express XRS from Micky Arison, the owner of the Miami Heat and the Carnival Cruise Line for an estimated cost of 50 million dollars. 15. Tony Robbins met both of his wives at his seminars. He met his first wife Becky Jenkins at one of his seminars and they married in 1982. He adopted the three children she had from her to former marriages. While married, he had a child with a former girlfriend Eliza in 1984. Their son's name is Jarek and is now a motivational speaker as well. Tony Robbins divorced his first wife in 1996 and met his second wife Sage Humphrey in 1999 at another one of his seminars. The two were married in 2011. So, these were some interesting things and facts about Tony Robbins. Hope you liked it. Here’s a fun fact about Tony Robbins: Tony Robbins once said that if he could change one thing about himself he would make himself smaller so that he could fit into normal cars and clothes. Read the full article

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lola--james · 5 years ago

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Moving In (Future AU) | | Lollie

characters: lola fields & ollie james date: indeterminate date location: Lola’s apartment nb: Lola and Ollie’s relationship moves in a more serious direction.

@shitollie

Ollie and Lola had just gotten back in from a relaxing night hanging out; going out for dinner and a movie as a means to just simply get out of the apartment. He had planned on spending the night with his girlfriend, part of it being that he wanted to spend more time with her, and part of it being that he was simply just too lazy and comfortable to get back up and drive. Laying in her bed, he scrolled through his phone, checking his social media and watching many Tik Tok's. Hearing her footsteps approach, his eyes peering away from his phone to look up at the brunette. "There you are. I thought you disappeared for a second." he lightly joked, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto the bed towards him.

Lola felt like her relationship with Ollie was going from strength to strength. They had weathered the storm of anonymous messages and people trying to meddle in their relationship, coming out of the drama stronger than ever before; and although it had been stressful, it had only made her more certain that Ollie was the person that she wanted to be with. She had been thinking for a while now that she wanted to take the next step in their relationship and when she walked into their bedroom to find Ollie lying in her bed, idly scrolling social media, her mind was made up. It looked like he belonged there and she found herself smiling warmly as he pulled her onto the bed to join him. "Don't worry, you didn't get rid of me that easily. I just went to get you something from the kitchen, it's just a little gift I organized about a week ago", she explained. She was slightly nervous as she passed him a shiny silver key, a copy of the one required to let him in and out of her apartment.

Ollie finally felt as though the two were in a good place in their relationship. Not only that, but Ollie was happy and content with his life. He had been able to better manage everything, and he knew better than to listen to all of those anonymous messages he had been receiving, and are still receiving. He knew that the trolls would never really go away, but he was just glad that him and Lola were able to make it through in one piece, considering how fairly new their relationship had been back then. He pulled her into his arms, looking down as she handed him what seemed to be a key to her apartment. He took the small object into his hand, fiddling with it as he continued to look at it, trying to process what was exactly happening. "Are you trying to tell me something?" he asked, nearly oblivious to what was going on.

Lola felt her anxiety spike as Ollie fiddled with the key in his hand, questioning what it meant. She felt like they were ready for this next step in their relationship but she also knew that Ollie could sometimes be a little wary of that kind of commitment as it wasn't necessarily something that came easy to him. "It can mean whatever you want it to mean, love", Lola was quick to explain. "We've been together for a while now and I thought it was time that you had a key to my apartment. You can use it if you want or you can pretend that I never gave it to you if it's too much", she rambled. In an ideal world, she would love for Ollie to move in with her but she didn't want to risk messing with their relationship by suggesting something he wasn't ready for. It just made sense to her -- he spent most of his time at her apartment anyway and they always seemed at their happiest when they were together.

Ollie looked down at her, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion by her statement. "I don't think you want me to pretend like you never gave this to me, because if that was the case you wouldn't have done it at all." he pointed out simply, his voice soft as the two spoke. He had somewhat of an idea as to what she was trying to imply by the small gift, but at the same time he wanted to make sure before he got too ahead of himself. "What do /you/ want this to mean?" he asked, the tone of his voice remaining the same. He wanted this to be a conversation they had, and he wanted this to be a decision that they both felt comfortable with - whatever that decision may be.

Lola fiddled nervously with one of the rings she was wearing today. Ollie's questions were simple but the neutral expression on his face made it hard to gauge what he was thinking -- if she backtracked and pretended that it wasn't a serious gift, he could be offended; but if she expressed her preferred intention, she could terrify him. She weighed up her options for a few moments before deciding that she would just be honest. "You're right. I'm just nervous and it was easier to deflect than acknowledge that I just gave you a key to my apartment", she admitted. "Honestly, I would love it if you moved in. You spend most of your time here anyway and I like having you here when I fall asleep; and when I wake up in the morning. I know that you might think that it's too soon, though; so I would also be happy if the key was just a key and you felt comfortable coming and going whenever you please".

Ollie burst out into laughter at her facial expression, clearing showing that she hadn’t been expecting for him to say no. “Wow, I’ve really gotten you used to me caving all the time.” He observed out loud through his laughter. “It’s just photos of eight year old me with glasses. You’re not missing much.” He teased lightly. “I’d have you handcuffed so you wouldn’t be able to touch anything, just enjoy all of it. I wonder how many times I can make you cum just doing this alone.” He added, his voice low as his lips continued to make their way down the base of her neck. “I’ve discovered new willpower to resist you. I can last much longer than 15 minutes now.” He stated proudly, chuckling at their small banter. “So I shouldn’t stop with the mind blowing, claiming, sex?” He asked, just making sure they were on the same page. “I can tell you first hand that you are not terrible, but we don’t have to ever do it if you don’t want to.” He assured, knowing that it wouldn’t be as enjoyable for him if it wasn’t the same for her. He continued to follow her throughout the apartment, a wicked smirk on his face the entire time. “What do /you/ want to do right now?”

Lola playfully narrowed her eyes at him when he laughed at her. “I’m used to the puppy dog eyes and bribery working with /everyone/, not just you! I can’t believe that didn’t work”, Lola admitted. “If it’s just eight year old you with glasses, why can’t I see the photos? It’s not some state secret”, she quipped. “You’re going to be the death of me, Ollie James. How am I this turned on already over just a few words? You have no idea how much I want this”, she admitted. “I think I’m offended! I liked knowing that it was so irresistible that you couldn’t wait”, she jokingly complained. “Definitely not. I... I think I’ve cum harder than ever before because of it”. Her cheeks were slightly flushed at the admission, knowing that Ollie would probably take great pride at that admission and tease her about it. “No, I want to try. I don’t want to let a little bit of anxiety get in the way of something that could be really fucking hot”, she told him. “I want you to fuck me”, she said simply. “I want the kind of rough, possessive sex that we’ve just been talking about”.

Ollie continued to laugh at how shocked she seemed to be. "I know you better than you think. But the puppy dog eyes are almost as adorable as your dimples." he smiled, poking one of her dimples in attempts to get her to smile. "You don't understand. This is eight year old geeky Ollie who was obsessed with planes and trains, and couldn't catch a football to save his life. That Ollie should not be seen, no matter how cute he was. Maybe on our anniversary, if I'm feeling generous." he lightly teased. Ollie brought his hand down in between their bodies, using a finger to gently stroke her most sensitive area over her underwear. He groaned quietly as he felt just how turned on she'd been before pulling his hand away. "This is definitely going to happen." he said in a promise, knowing very well that the thought was going to continue to be on his mind until her fantasy became into reality. "You are irresistible, but it's kind of fun teasing you sexually. Getting you all worked up until you're practically begging for more. "Like that time at the beach house?" he asked with a prideful smile, reminiscing on the past memory from just months prior. "I wouldn't be comfortable doing it unless if you're one hundred percent comfortable. This works both ways." he mentioned, wanting her to know that it really was okay if she didn't want to do it. His head tilted slight, brows furrowing in both surprise and shock at how forward she had been in the moment. He appreciated her straightforwardness, finding it quite attractive. "Do you?" he asked, slowly walking towards his girlfriend, gently pushing her against the nearest wall. "You mean the kind where I bend you over and fuck you until your legs nearly give out? Where I pull your hair and mark you so that you have a reminder for days after; where you're screaming my name as if I'm the only person that exist?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper, his lips barely touching hers.

Lola sighed dramatically when he just laughed at her and still refused to cave. "But not adorable enough to win you over", Lola complained, although her words were undermined by the grin that stretched across her face when he poked one of her dimples. "Okay I really hate that it's come to this but if nudes aren't going to work as a bartering tool, I think I might have another photo that you might be interested in. It's literally the only family photo that I have and I must be about five... I'm talking bangs and my mom had let me play with her stage makeup, which was a terrible parenting decision. You'd be the only person alive that's seen the photo. That's got to be worth a photo trade", she tried a different approach. She was glad that she had worn a dress today as it allowed Ollie to reach between their bodies to touch her over her underwear, a quiet moan falling from her lips in response to the touch. "Just don't tell me when, okay? The surprise is part of the appeal", she told him. "I feel like that's one of your biggest turn-ons, when I'm practically dripping wet and begging for more", she commented, knowing that what she said was true. "Like the beach house", she confirmed. "I know this is probably going to swell your ego and I'll probably regret admitting it but the pleasure that you give me... god, it's on a whole other level compared to my other experiences", she admitted. "I definitely want to try it. I especially like the idea of you watching it back and touching yourself". She moaned quietly when he gently pushed her against the nearest wall, knowing full well that Ollie was going to eventually give her exactly what she wanted. "That's exactly what I want", she confirmed, her breathing already slightly ragged. "I... I don't want you to let me cum until you decide that I'm ready to, when I'm begging you to let me finish". Allowing Ollie to be in charge of when she came just added to the fantasy of the kind of rough, possessive sex that they were talking about right now.

Ollie placed a gentle kiss on the others lips. “You already won me over.” He mentioned, his voice somewhat serious now. He remained silent for a few moneys as if he was seriously contemplating her offer, although he already knew that he was going to cave. “I don’t think that’s an offer I can refuse. Deal.” He smiled brightly up at her, giving her his right hand to seal the deal. Placing kisses onto her neck, Ollie simply hummed in response to her observation. “It is. You have no idea what it does to me to see you lose control like that. I love how well your body responds to me, how I’m able to get you to that point.” He stated simply, his voice low as he placed his hands on her hips, pushing her down slightly so she could feel some of him. “Wait, is this you admitting that I’m the best you’ve ever had? Hold on, I think I need this to be voice recorded.” Joking around with her, Ollie reaches over to grab his phone, letting out another laugh before putting it back down. “Well, I already touch myself thinking about you often. But this would be a nice bonus.” He admitted. His thumb grazed over her bottom lip, barely making contact with it as he noticed her breathing begin to increase in speed. Using one hand, he tilted her head up slightly so that he could get a full view of her; using his other hand to place hers on his growing member. “God, you’re so sexy. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His voice was low and his breathing was ragged at just the mere contact of her hand; even though it had been over the thick material of his jeans, it still made all the difference. “Are you sure you want to give me that much control?” He asked half jokingly, even though that had been also a thought of his before.

Lola beamed at Ollie when he said that she had already won him over, her dimples making a major appearance as she grinned at him. "If it makes you feel better, you won me over months ago. I'm a sucker for you, baby", Lola told him. "No judging the bangs, okay? I really can't pull them off", she laughed as she shook his hand. As Ollie placed kisses on her neck, he hit a particular sensitive spot and Lola's body shivered slightly in response to the pleasure sensation. "When you touch me, my body instinctively reacts to you. It's like it remembers how damn good you make me feel and my arousal just spikes", she told him. It was a good thing that Ollie found it attractive because she had no idea how to turn it off. "Don't make me regret admitting it", she groaned. "I'm hoping that I'm at least in your top three... hell, I'd settle for top five". With the exception of Allison and Katherine, Lola didn't know much about his sexual history so it was highly possible that she didn't stack up to some of the other women that he'd been with. "What do you think about when you touch yourself?" she asked curiously, wondering which memories or fantasies featuring her were most common when he was alone. Her eyes dropped to his hand as his thumb grazed her bottom lip; he had barely touched her and she was already so ready for him. She let out a soft gasp as he placed her hand over his jeans, able to feel him growing hard even underneath the material of his jeans. She knew that Ollie was in charge here so she slowly moved her hand to the button of his jeans, wordlessly looking at him for permission to undo them and get rid of another one of the layers that were between them. "I can't wait to feel you", she murmured. "I'm certain", she confirmed. "I want you to use me for your own pleasure, to do whatever you want to me. When you finally let me cum, it's going to feel so fucking amazing that neither of us are ever going to forget tonight".

Ollie 's adoration for Lola showed in his face; his grin wide and his eyes bright. He simply just kissed her passionately in response, hoping that his kiss said everything he needed to say. "I think you'd look cute in bangs." he replied, his smile remaining. He could feel her body slightly shiver as he sick what he assumed to be one of her sensitive spots, causing him to gently suck the area, his tongue occasionally running over her smooth skin. "I'm just glad that I'm able to make you feel so good." he stated simply. Ollie found it a good sign that the two had such an effect on each other's bodies; it made things fun between them and oddly enough, it made their bond just that much stronger. "You are. You have nothing to worry about." he didn't want her comparing herself to other girls, or having any doubts that she was anything less than the girls in his past - which was the main reason he didn't really go into that much detail about it. Those girls didn't matter to him anymore, and the past was simply just that - the past. "I think about you going down on me, and riding me until you're practically screaming my name. Or how tight and ready you always are, or how it feels when your body quivers underneath mine. How it feels when I'm filling you up completely...I can go on for hours." he spoke in between kisses, a soft chuckle slipping his lips. His eyes shot down to her hands, watching as her fingers made their way to the button of his jeans; he simply gave her a small nod, giving her permission to proceed. "Once I let you cum, I'm going to make you cum over and over again. If I'm going to take you in the kitchen, I'm going to cover every inch; the counter, the walls, the table..." he trailed off, his hands slowly making their way up her thighs.

Lola knew what Ollie was wordlessly conveying by the kiss so when he pulled away, a warm smile stretched across her face; letting Ollie know that she had understood what he was telling her. "I know that you're being sweet but trust me, I cannot pull it off. If I ever start talking about cutting bangs back in, you need to tell me to stop. Under no circumstances are you to let me do it", she warned him, completely serious. She always thought it was a good idea beforehand but regretted it within a few days. Ollie clearly interpreted her shiver as a sign that he had kissed a particularly sensitive spot on her neck and as he gently sucked the same spot, a small whimper fell from her lips; the sound making it clear that she wanted more. "The fact that we both make each other feel so good makes this all so much better". She believed him when he said that she was near the top; she found it hard to believe that their sexual chemistry and compatibility was easily replicated. As Ollie listed what he thought about, she let out a quiet moan; her mind quickly filling with images of what he was saying, including a few memories where they had engaged in such acts together. "It's so hot thinking about you touching yourself while talking about me. I want to see it one day", she told him. As he nodded at her, she quickly undid the button on his jeans and the zipper. With the extra wiggle room, she was able to slip her hand into his jeans, her hand touching him over the material of his boxers. "I... I should have asked you to move in sooner", she told him as his hands ran up her thighs; her body already responding to his touch. She had completely submitted to Ollie in this instance and the fact that she was under his control was a huge turn on.

"I can't make any promises. Between that and your dimples, I think you'd look hot." Ollie teased lightly, kissing her cheek lightly. Although his teasing had been light, he was also kind of serious. But then again, he was a guy so what did he know about hair? As his lips remained on her neck, he turned their bodies over so that she was laying down and he was on top of her. "Later." he said simply, kissing her lips before abruptly pulling away. "Maybe this is the real reason we're together." he joked lightly, a smirk appearing on his face. "Do you think you will be able to keep your hands to yourself?" he asked, half jokingly. Ollie continued to watch as she continued to unbutton his jeans, slipping her hand into his jeans. His breathing ragged and increasing, a soft groan left him from the more direct contact. "I want you so badly right now." he whispered, his fingertips playing with the band of her underwear, suddenly wishing that he could just rip the material off.

Lola lightly rolled her eyes at Ollie. “You’re a terrible boyfriend, James. I’ve literally given you one task and you’re making it pretty clear that you can’t even do that!” Lola playfully exclaimed. She let out a surprised gasp when he quickly reversed their positions; loving the way it felt when his body was against hers, lightly pressing her down. When he said later, she found herself hoping that he meant later tonight because now that she had thought about it, it was hard to push those thoughts from her mind. “It’s definitely not the deep emotional connection, I’m only into you for your body”, she quipped in response. “If it’s tonight and you tell me too then yes”, she said simply. If it was any other night, she wasn’t so sure about her level of self-restraint. The sounds that Ollie was making were a huge turn on and with a little difficulty, she managed to get her hand inside his boxers so that there was no fabric between them. “I’m yours”, she reminded him softly as his fingertips played with the band of her underwear. She had made it clear that he could do whatever he wanted to her tonight; and her wet centre made it clear just how turned on she was by that thought.

Ollie chuckled softly in response. “I’m a terrible boyfriend? I just probably gave you the best compliment!” He immediately retorted back, his engaging and entertained smile present. “I mean, I guess I’m just glad you’re into me in general.” He laughed, saying that only half jokingly. Ollie never really lacked in the confidence department, but when it came to Lola there was a voice in the back of his head saying that he wasn’t good enough. He knew that she loved him, and he loved her just as much, maybe even more...but there was no way he was even close to being good enough for her. “Just tonight?” He questioned with a small smirk. Another soft groan slipped his lips at the skin on skin contact between her hand and his cock. He could feel himself become harder as her minor movements continued, and he was sure that he would just take her right then and there if she continued. Taking her hand out of his boxers, his own hands made their way to the back of her thighs. He lifted her up swiftly and wrapped her legs around his torso, carrying her over to the kitchen area. He placed her back on her feet before his hands were placed onto her shoulders. He gently pushed her, lowering her to her knees. “I want to feel your lips wrapped around me.” He whispered, half requesting and half asking.

Lola playfully nudged him in the side. "It's an awful compliment because bangs really don't suit me", Lola insisted, although it was sweet that Ollie was always attracted to her, no matter what changes she made to her appearance. "I'm more and more into you with every day that passes", she told him, her answer a little more serious as she never wanted him to doubt just how deeply she loved him. She knew that Ollie sometimes worried that he wasn't enough and although she found that thought completely implausible, she did whatever she could to show him otherwise. "Just tonight. Any other night, I'd be on my way to your place in minutes so that I could sink to my knees and let you fuck my mouth instead of settling for your own hand", she told him. She pouted at him as he removed her hand from his boxers but he took no notice of it, instead picking her up and carrying her over to the kitchen. She half-expected Ollie to put her on the counter but instead, he rested her gently on her feet and pushed at her shoulders, his intention suddenly clear. Without complaint, she sunk to her knees in front of him. She pushed the material of his jeans and boxers further down his legs so that they wouldn't get in the way and took his hard length into her hand. She started slowly, her hand moving over his cock in the way he loved whilst she swirled her tongue around the head. She looked up at him through her lashes to note his reaction and right as he opened his mouth to complain about her teasing pace, she took all of his length into her mouth; only stopping when every inch of his cock was covered.

Ollie laughed as he felt the other nudge him, his eyes brightening in response to their playful little banter. “Okay. Since relationships are all about sacrifice and compromise, I promise I will shut you down so quick if you mentioned getting bangs.” he joked, although he knew that he would be the only to kindly remind her if that were to ever happen. Ollie have her a small, shy smile as she spoke. This had been the only relationship where he even worried slightly about not being enough, but that’s because he knew Lola deserved only the best life had to offer. He appreciated how she was determined to make sure that he was loved, and he showed this gratitude by pulling her in close and kissing her. “You are so whipped.” he whispered against her lips, showing that he was completely joking around by releasing a soft laugh. “I’d take being in your mouth over my hand any day. Just the sight of you going down on me alone is enough to make me come.” He spoke honestly. A soft groan left him as she took ahold of his cock in her hand, twisting her wrist ever so slightly as her tongue swirled around his already sensitive head. He ran his own tongue over his lips before gently biting his lower lip in attempts to muffle and control his breathing and hushed moans. Just as he was about to ask for more, Lola was beginning to take him fully in her mouth. Her name rolled off the tip of his tongue in a soft moan as he felt the pleasurable sensation of her tongue running across the back of his hard length. One hand laced through her hair as other gently caressed her face, his thumb grazing over her jawline. He gently tugged on her hair, just enough so that her head was tilted back ever so slightly. His dark lust filled eyes met hers, and he gave her a small nod, encouraging her to continue.

"Thank you, that's all I wanted!" Lola happily exclaimed. She had both Ollie and Addison on standby to make sure that she didn't make an impulsive bangs-related decision again, having regretted it every other time that she had gotten the cut. "So, so whipped", she agreed, laughing along with him. There was really no point in denying it -- she was crazy about Ollie and would do whatever she could to make him happy. "It feels so good to make you fall apart like that. It's such a turn on knowing how much you love it and how good it makes you feel", she told him. She felt her own arousal spike in response to his soft groans and the way that he was biting his lip to keep from being too loud. She moaned around his length as the head of his cock hit the back of her throat, her lack of gag reflex certainly coming in handy during moments like this. She moaned again as he tugged on her hair to tilt her head back, fully intending to push him over the edge and make him cum from her mouth alone. She quickly fell into the rhythm that he most enjoyed, fighting the urge to start touching herself as she wanted her boyfriend to finish first.

Ollie simply smiled and laughed in response, nearly mesmerized at how adorable she was when she was truly happy and in the moment. He kissed her once more, his smirk very much apparent after hearing her agree to his statement. “You and I both.” He whispered once more as his hands graciously felt on her body. “No one can make me lose control like you. It’s those moments I think about when I’m all alone and desperately wanting to be inside you.” He admitted in a hushed tone. He cursed underneath his breath at the sensational vibration that had coursed through him in results to her moan. Between that, the way her tongue ran up against him, and watching her take all of him so effortlessly, Ollie could feel the pressure building up in the pit of his stomach. A breathless sigh followed by a light moan slipped him as his grip on her hair grew slightly tighter, knowing that she had found him being a little rough a huge turn on. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmured under his breath, using his free hand to gently caress the side of her face. “God, the things I want to do to you right now.”

It was in quiet moments like this where Lola realized the extent of Ollie's feelings for her. She saw the way that he was looking at her, the love and adoration clear in his eyes, and it just wiped away any lingering doubts about the depth of his feelings. It was clear that he loved her just as much as she loved him. "We're a good match, then", she told him. "You have no idea how much of a turn on it is to know that I affect you in a way that no one else does", she confided in him. His attraction to her, his arousal, his desire, just further heightened her own feelings towards him. His hands in her hair got a little tighter and she could feel herself growing wetter in response to it, having always liked it when Ollie was a little rough with her. "Tell me exactly what you want to do to me", she told him as she pulled back for a second before immediately resuming what she had been doing, knowing that it was driving Ollie crazy.

"The best match." Ollie stated simply as he continued to place light kisses on the corner of her lips and down her jawline. "I don't think there's anyone else for me." he confessed in a whisper, kissing her in between his words. "Does, has, or ever will." he stated simply. Ollie had his fair share of good sexual experiences before his time at Monarch, but this was completely different. Their emotional and physical connection only added on to the total lust that they had for one another, making sex just /that/ much greater. "I want to fuck every inch of you; your mouth; your ass; your tight pussy. I want to rip off those sexy panties, bend you over this counter, and fuck you until every inch of your body is trembling under my body. I want to make you cum over and over again, until my name is the only word that you remember." his words came out both slow and breathless as his main focus was on how amazing her tongue and lips felt around him. At this point both of his hands were tangled in her hair, pulling a bit more roughly this time as he used practically all of his energy attempting to not thrust into her mouth.

"A forever match", Lola replied, her voice quiet but filled with love and hope for Ollie and their future. "And I don't think there's anyone else for me. Even on our worst days, there isn't anyone else that I want to be going through life with". They had taken a serious step today by moving in together but when she thought about their future, she was confident that this wouldn't be the last big step that they made. She saw the two of them getting married, maybe having children, building their lives /together/. She moaned around his length, wordlessly letting him know that she was more than willing to do all of that with him tonight. It was just the two of them with no interruptions, celebrating this important milestone in their lives so she truly didn't expect either of them to get any sleep tonight. She could feel that Ollie was holding back so she reached up and placed her hands on his hips; using the grip to push his hips back and forward a couple of times so that he would know that it was okay for him to do what he so obviously wanted to.

Ollie placed his lips against hers, his hand cradling her face as the other ran down her body. In that moment his future seemed very clear, she was the one for him. He knew that she was going to be his wife one day and the two were going to have mini Ollie’s and Lola’s running around, and for once the thought didn’t scare him. “Forever indeed. You’re the only one I want.” He stated as he pulled away, his voice quiet. Due to recent events, all Ollie wanted was to be with her. He was willing to promise her forever because forever with her was actually plausible. He took her guidance as an indication for him to not hold back. Still gripping slightly onto her hair, he held her head in place as his hips began to rock slowly. A stream of moans mixed with her name and some profanities continuously slipped from his lips as the head of his cock continued to hit the back of her throat; moments like these being when he was grateful she didn’t have a gag reflex. His movements continued for a couple of moments before the familiar sensation began to build up in the pit of his abdomen. Knowing that he was bound to come in her mouth if he kept it up, he immediately pulled out, letting out a loud breath as he did so. He kept his hands on her face, cradling it as he pulled her up to her feet; his lips immediately crashing on hers for a deep, dirty kiss. “What do you want?” He asked as he pulled away, his eyes beginning to turn dark with lust.

Lola had thought about asking Ollie to move in with her countless times before but had always talked herself out of it, wanting to wait until she was sure that Ollie was ready for such a serious commitment; and an important step forwards in their relationship. She found herself glad that she had waited because this moment felt absolutely perfect; she wouldn't change anything about it. Lola felt so completely happy and content right now that she wished she could freeze time and live in this moment forever. "Forever has never sounded so good", Lola told her boyfriend, genuinely meaning it. Ollie quickly got the hint and started slowly fucking her mouth, the moans and profanities falling from his lips making it clear just how much he was enjoying herself. Too soon for her liking, he was pulling out of her mouth and she pouted at him as he pulled her to her feet. She kissed him deeply, her hand wrapping around his hard length and stroking him as they kissed. "I wanted you to cum in my mouth but you seem to have other intentions so with that in mind, I want you to fuck me until I can barely stand".

#chatzy #c: ollie #au #future au #this will surprise no one #but here is another chatzy that i've fucked up #and lost half the replies for #another work in progress with updates to follow

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wesker20 · 5 years ago

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Fallen Hero 1.5 Episode 16 Revenge: The Rules of Pain

Episode 15 Revenge: Collision Course

Night – inside building – en route to the confrontation

You know sometimes when you struggle to find a way to describe what you feel? How suddenly and out of nowhere there’s a feeling you think has the perfect word but when you say it out loud it does not even come close to describing it? As if the word does not carry the weight of the feeling?

In this very moment, as you walk through the darkened hallways towards an unknown room, that word would be conflict. But it so simple, so formal. Conflict makes it sound as if there’s a disagreement, an argument, a debate. But not this. This dread, this uncertainty, this…

It has no words. You made no promises as to how you would deal with Zeta. You made it sound as if there was a possibility that you would kill him. But…

Can you?

You have to.

But he’s the last one.

He’s a threat.

He’s your teammate.

Was your teammate.

If he is gone, you are the last one.

So what?

You don’t want to be the last one.

That’s stupid.

Are you?

Yes.

Why?

Because you are letting your emotions control you. He’s a threat. He needs to be stopped.

Stopped, yes. Killed?

Death is the only solution.

No.

Yes.

You can’t kill him.

Yes you can.

You won’t.

You will!

You won’t.

Kill him!

No.

KILL him!

No!

KILL HIM!

You kick the door in front of you, tearing it from its hinges straight into the ground. As you step in, the weight of the dampeners shows itself, threatening to ground you with the door. But you are not some weakling telepath, you are Mastermind, nothing and nobody can stop you. You focus your mind, encasing it in a cocoon that will alleviate the strain of the dampeners. The Rat King lends its help, making your job a lot easier and smoother and soon your mind is protected. You are limited in this state, your powers no stronger than in your days as Sidestep, but it will do. You are still just as dangerous in this state.

You scan the room. Empty, dark, and without a ceiling. Instead the moon shines on you like a spectator watching a show ready for the climax. A flicker of curiosity bounces in the air. A thought. From where? You don’t know. What you do know is him. Much like in Bloodmoon, Zeta stands on the other end of the room, like a marble statue, watching. Watching you.

Kill him.

“Gotta say you have a shitty taste in scenery.”

He chuckles. “I don’t know. I think it’s quite fitting. The place where you became what you are today. The place that released the monster from its leash.”

You glare. “So you do know.”

“It’s a perfect place for your grave, isn’t it? Of course not the actual place. Government took down the entire building. But hey, you do what you can with what you have.”

“So you do intend to kill me? Finally?”

He chuckles again. “Oh no. That would be too easy. And boring.”

“Then who?” you wonder out loud.

He looks up. “Why don’t you stop hiding up there and come down here young lady. I know you are there.”

Oh no. You turn just in time to see a figure jump down from the roof and land on your right.

“Mastermind, Red Doll. Red Doll, Mastermind. Or have you met?”

Emily’s eyes jump between you and Zeta, as if trying to piece together what is going on. But you have already put it together. The same trick he pulled when you attacked the Army of Mastermind for the first time. Lured you and Emily into the same place and have you fight one another.

“Stop playing games!” You yell at him.

He laughs. “But games are so much fun.” He turns to Emily. “It’s true sweety. I lured you here with the express purpose of giving you what you have been looking for. Here’s the murderer of your boyfriend.”

Her eyes land on you, tears threatening to fall out, her rage in the air. She turns towards Zeta. “I won’t let you escape simply because of this.”

He laughs again. “You won’t be able to stop me. Just ask him. And besides, why would you risk the chance of taking him down? For me?”

“Why would I believe any word of what you say?”

His stance stiffens. He stares at her. No more mockery in his tone. “Because, like you, he has hurt me. Deeply. We both want the same thing. To take him out and make sure he pays for what he has done.”

Her eyes widen and she turns back to you.

“The people he has hurt deserve justice.”

“Zeta, shut up!” you growl.

“He’s a monster that deserves nothing less than death.”

“Don’t listen to him!”

“Just imagine if he had not existed. Without him, the people we love would still be alive and happy. But thanks to him, that will never be.”

Her mind hardens, her focus clear. You try to reach but the dampeners fall on you like an anchor, only saved from the pain by the Rat King’s quick thinking. Zeta has won.

“I’ll leave you two alone. Sayonara.” And like that he is gone again. You hold back a roar as you focus again on her. Suddenly the anchor is no longer there and your powers are back to a hundred percent. Shit. You played into his hands again.

“Don’t play his game,” you try to reach her again, but her mind is closed. And even if it wasn’t, what could you do? Her mind is a chaotic mess of constant changing thoughts and images. Polymorphs need that malleability to keep control of their bodies. Which only makes your job a lot harder. Even so you would risk it. Risk getting lost in her head for the hope that you could avoid this fight.

Kill her.

“So what? So I can play your game instead!”

She’s a threat. Kill her.

“I’m not trying to manipulate you. I’m trying to keep you alive.”

“What do you care?” Her tears fall out. “He was a good person. He wanted to help people. He just wanted to make a difference. And you killed him!”

You want to say something, anything, but you cannot. Because she’s not wrong.

Her head falls, staring at the floor. “This city lost someone good. Someone that could have helped. Helped to make this shithole a better place. I can’t be that. I can never hope to live up to that. To him.” She lifts her head, raged tears falling down, glaring at you. “But I can stop you.”

“You are playing straight into his hands.”

She takes a stance. “I don’t care.”

You feel the thought coming but you cannot react. The giant fist comes too fast and you are launched against a wall. She launches herself at you, extending her legs like a grasshopper. You shoot up your jets and fly out of the way, letting her crash against the broken wall. But before you can react, a giant hand grabs you by the leg and brings you down. She’s on you in an instant straddling you and ready to rain down giant punches on you. But before she can do anything, you turn on your taser and land your right palm on her stomach.

She shrieks. The electricity courses through her body and she falls off of you. You stand up and kick her as soon as she stands up. She tries to react but once again you kick her, keep her disoriented. Before she stands up you let a smoke bomb fall. Now blinded, she does not see your attacks, while you easily watch and track her through both your visor and your powers. You land punch after punch. Some she dodges and weaves, like you taught her. Others she block and tries to counter only for you to step out of sight.

The exchange continues for a minute before she screams in rage. At that point she expands her body, becoming bigger than the smoke cloud. You try to stay out of sight but she sees you before grabbing you with an elongated arm. She throws you and breaks walls with you, never letting her grip falter. Having enough of this, you manage to grab her hand and electrocute her again.

She screams this time and lets you go. But she recovers quickly and charges at you and before you can react she pushes you through a wall and out of the building. In free fall you turn on your jets but Emily holds on to you, destabilizing you. You crash land, first through a roof and then into the empty streets, ending up in an open space where a building used to be.

You both stand up stunned. You recover before she does. She tries to throw a punch but you sidestep it with ease. She throws another but you dodge again. She throws another and this time you catch it in the palm of your hand. “Play time’s over kid.”

She screams and steps back as she stare at the hand you had just held. A cold, white smoking hand. A frozen hand.

Yes!

She throws her other hand, this time making it bigger, but you sidestep it again and grab it by the wrist. Again she screams and pulls back, now both hands frozen.

Kill her!

You close the distance fast, moving faster than you even thought your suit was capable of, and punch her. Once in the face, another one in the stomach. She takes the first two but then the third time she softens her body, causing your fists to bury into her. She kicks you away but you turn on your jets to stop your fall. You charge and grab both of her legs. She screams again as her ankles and feet freeze over.

Yes!

You land one hand on her stomach and again you freeze it. She screams and steps back but you don’t give her a chance. You grab her face and bring it closer to yours. “I warned you,” you whisper and lightly freeze her head.

Although the ice melts, you can tell her body is solid and incapable of stretching for at least a couple of seconds, if not minutes. You waste no time. You tackle her, straddle her, grab her by the neck and raise your fist. It lands harder than you intended, like a rock, but you keep going over and over again. And then you grab her head with both hands, her hair out of its pony tail, slipping in between your fingers.

Do it.

You stare at her.

Kill her.

You can end it here.

Yes.

Freeze her head and crush it with both of your hands. Like her boyfriend.

Do it!

You can get rid of this nuisance once and for all to set your sights entirely on Zeta.

DO IT!

Zeta. That’s what he wants. He knew she could not win. He knew. He knew you could not get yourself to kill them, Julia, Argent, Herald. Even Wei. But Emily? She’s new; you’ve only known her for a couple of months.

WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!

And he would be right. Why should you care about her? She’s just another hero, another naïve idiot waiting to be eaten alive by the real world, like you were.

YES! Do it. It’s a favor. You can save her from all the pain that will come.

But there is no why. You care. You know her. You’ve talked to her, trained her even. But most of all, you know her pain. You know the guilt, you know the desperation. The pit that sinks you.

NO!

You stare at her eyes, fear as visible as the moon tonight.

Stop it!

You slowly let go.

KILL HER!

And you don’t stop her as she instantly kicks you off. Her powers back. She straddles you, staring down with renewed anger and determination. You don’t defend yourself, as she rains down giant fists on your helmet, her screams breaking through your earpieces. You let her. Let her unload all the anger and hatred you have felt before; that you still feel. You don’t stop her as she reaches out for a stone the size of your arm, lifting it over her head, and bringing it down on you. The stone comes again and again and again. A flurry of strikes that would shatter a human skull but your helmet holds on for dear life, trying to protect you. The Rat King squeals and tries to do something but you stop it. You tell it that it’s alright.

It does not believe you but obeys you. The stone comes down again and your visor cracks. You close your eyes as the stone comes down again and cracks the visor more. And more. And more. And more. One hit after the other, nonstop, no end in sight. And it breaks.

The right side of your helmet shatters, pieces falling on all sides. You close your eyes as pieces fall on your face. And soon after you open them and for the first time you look at her with your own eyes and not Jane’s. Only the left half of your mask remains, while your right side sits open. Exposed. She has stopped. Her eyes darting towards your exposed side, her emotions on overdrive, leaking out of her mind. Rage, hatred, and sadness, all of them in a tornado of desperation. And now her mind throws another emotion into the mix; doubt.

The same doubt you have felt before. When you were someone else. When you were a hero. When you were Sidestep. Doubt. Doubt that the person before you is a monster. For how could a monster have the face of a normal person. It’s easier to call someone a monster when their faces are covered, when they are watched through a screen. But face to face, it becomes a lot harder. Because what stands before you is not a monster, but a person. A normal human being like you. No monsters can ever look like a human being. They have to be different somehow. Because otherwise, what does that say about us?

She lets the stone fall to the side and gets off of you falling on the ground, sitting, staring at you.

“Funny, isn’t it?” you begin as you stare at the moon looking down on you. Your voice a mixture of your real voice and a distorted version of Mastermind’s. “How easy it is to want someone dead. To be ready to kill them.” You sit up, staring at her. “Not so easy when they have a face though.” She does not answer. She stares. A mixture of rage and confusion. She wants to end you, but she can’t. “I was like that once.”

What are you doing?

“Long ago. I cared.”

Stop it!

“I cared about… life. Because, even the monsters had people that loved them. That cared about them.” You stand up, staring at the abandoned area. “I thought if I killed them, I would be hurting someone else. Someone who would cry them. Mourn them. Like I have.”

You feel her mind flare up. “How can a monster like you ever understand?”

You turn to her. “I do actually. Long ago there was someone I loved. Someone who… She was… she was a hero. And would have been the best hero. That night the world lost a good person. Someone who could have fixed things.” You look up, at the moon. “She would have been the light in this world of darkness. She would have been better than me.” You look back to Emily. “Because unlike me, she would have had all the answers. And she would have never been broken.” Your eyes water, the drops sliding down your cheeks. “Not a day goes by without me thinking that the wrong people survived that night. I should have been the one to… die, not her. In fact I’m the only one that needed to die. She would have cried for me, mourn me. But she would have moved on. She would have strived. She would have used that pain for something better. She was strong like that.” You chuckle. “If she saw me like this, she would rip the mask off and beat me up. Then she would ask me ‘why. Why have I wasted the chance she gave me?’ And I would have had no answer.” You pause. “But she’s gone. And I can never bring her back. Her or anyone.”

Stop this!

“But I can do something else.”

You are not him.

“I am a monster. If I’m not right now, I will soon be. Because I’ve already sunk into the void. I’m trapped inside my own pain. But you are not there yet.” Her eyes close a bit, but she is not glaring. Curiosity. Confusion.

You are not Sidestep.

“I will never forgive you,” she spits.

“I’m not asking you to. There is no apology in this world that can ever heal what I’ve done to you. But I don’t want you to be consumed. Sunk into the same pit that I am. Don’t follow your pain. Learn from it, become something better. Not like me. Don’t become me.”

Sidestep is dead!

“When you follow the rules of pain,” you pause. “You become its slave. Forever chained to its demands. And what it demands it’s always more.”

She stares at you. “Why are you telling me all this?”

You smile. “The man I was is still alive. For now. I’m doing his final request before he dies.”

Minutes pass, a silent exchange between the two of you, as she makes her choice. She stands up turning her back to you. “One day I will return to this city. And if you are still here,” she turns back to you. “I will take you down.”

You chuckle a bit. “Then you better get in line.” She does not reply. She leaves. She leaves you alone in the quiet night on the ruins of what used to be a building. You open your comm. “Pelayo, how’s everything on your end?”

“Boss? Hey. Everything alright? I thought we lost you.” They almost did now that you think about it.

“I’m fine. How are things looking?”

“Crowd is thinning out. Soon they will all be down.”

“Then leave as soon as possible. Let the Rangers deal with any stragglers. We are done here.”

“Sir?”

You breath. “The Voice escaped again.”

“Damn it.”

“Don’t worry. I know where they are.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Understood sir. Just tell us where to and we will-”

“Go back to the hideout. You are not coming.”

“What? But sir-”

“Pelayo, this is personal.” Several seconds pass before he agrees and relays the orders back to the rest.

Indeed you know where he is. Truth is you’ve always known, or suspected at least. Ever since Bloodmoon you knew that if he wanted to hide from you he would go to the one place you would never dare to return to. The place that gave you life and trained you to be a killing machine. A soulless machine. But if you want to stop him once and for all, you have to go. You have to end this. No matter how painful. It’s time you stopped running and faced it.

Time to go back to the old Farm…

Episode 17: The Rise of Mastermind

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero: retribution #fanfiction #fanfic #MC #Boss villain #OC

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mihenna · 5 years ago

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Henna Body Art With Me

Hey guys. Welcome back to my blog. So today I wanted to do something a little bit different. I find blog like this are really really interesting and fun to read. So today I'm working with Mihenna. Body Art Beauty awaits me is temporary a body art like that too much but it's temporary. And today I have this package that I'll be able to pick out the sense of that I want and actually do it myself and show you guys the results. So me about a temporary henna body art that to last for about two weeks and it's super easy to buy.

They have a ton of designs to choose from and it's two percent organic so I wanted to show for show you what's in a little box.

It says it's super cute it says that you are so beautiful it drives me bananas and there's a banana. Of course we have our organic base that's for the tattoo. Obviously we have some instructions here. I going to go through and we have spatulas and this is coconut oil to maintain the stencils. Jews from today I'm going to take you guys like this flower I think on top of the hand that would be really really like flying like a lobster straight down like designs because it could go on the arm or the ankle or something like that really. BRADY I think this was adorable. I guess it was just little like Oh I love little drawings. We have a strawberry and a doughnut perhaps a flower making which is perfect because I'm going to Disney and we have one thing that Saturn some nice signs I get but this like as a bracelet. The glasses that is I see when I give it to me and when I do too. Tonight I want wanted to be one of the became just going to take it out.

I have it ready for myself I want it to think I want to do that flower I want that I showed you that that's when I think of it in my head like like right out there like almost like my hand and my wrist.

So what are the instructions we know what we doing so it says body art kept me at the back and says to me on Instagram is me that body art email and phone number beside it says it's your kid one premium organic icon freshly made with the tea water eucalyptus oil that's got 15 sticker stencils and a variety of geometric patterns spatula on my final of coconut oil for Africa. So fresh choose your stencil and apply it to the desired area rest firmly and move the needle from bone and fill in stencil with a thick layer that paste you spatula all helps read evenly and then you have to wait 20 minutes for it to dry but leave it on for two hours for it like a good deep color once desired time as bad spill off stick to remove remaining dry based use a paper towel and coconut oil down rub off. Do not use water lastly use coconut oil to keep it. Make it last. OK let's start this. OK so I'm starting with the flour going to place where I want it.

Resting shirts or I'm just spreading it on nice color on the flower, thanks. So now as you can see the flower is covered this stuff actually smells really good like you but that's definitely all natural and organic. To me that's it smells just like you kind of just get a little bit easier to squeeze out that little bit of the see simply. You have to guide that step so you don't have to worry about really messing up. You just have to apply it evenly just gently by just like so now I have to let this in for about two hours.

I'm going to do something and maybe watch a movie or something and this try so it creates a path to everyone sat back and I just took it off.

Look at this like how cute is that. Oh my God. I was not expecting it to come out like that, Great. But they say that you just have to wipe the light based off a little bit with a dry paper towel and that's I'm going to do just slightly because technically the longer you leave it on the darker that like the stencils will bear is that you do once you wipe this out. It's going to get obviously a little bit lighter but then it gradually gets darker like up to 24 hours later.

So tomorrow I'm going to take a picture and show you the results of this. I'm going to wait to do that Mickey Mouse ears because I still have two weeks at top. I have a little bit less than two weeks until this day but I want it to be more fresh. So if I do that I won't put out my Instagram and I'll show you guys that I'm so excited to see what this guy looks like. Tomorrow I'll come back on here and talk to guys and show you. I will just take a picture and out like button up right now. So I was so so impressed with the body art temporary tattoo and all the stencils they're so normal and it works really well. And it actually smells so good. It smells like you though I'm just. That's one of my favorite. Like you said your oil smells. I love this. Over again I got 10 percent organic. And they give you a little coconut oil everything to do it perfectly. So I will put the link for me down below.

Make sure you check them out so you have the cutest body art temporary body art for about two weeks which is really awesome because it's like the perfect amount of time.

Then you'll want to change something else for the summer and get you something really cool like on your stomach or something like a sign like art. Like I think that's just so adorable. Something small to it doesn't have to be like a big tampon or anything. So do you think it will get these instructions so you won't be lost. It's very very easy. Thank you guys so much for reading and I'll see you the next one by.

#temporary henna body art kit #henna tattoo kit #henna stencils

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beca-mitchell · 6 years ago

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prompt 15

one more box (1/1)

summary: The complexities of moving across the country.

word count: 2.5k

written in response to prompt 15: “Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not.”

Beca isn’t sure that she needs this many people helping her move out. It’s not like she had that much to begin with, considering she shares – shared – a tiny apartment with two other people.

Still, more than half of the Bellas are in her apartment (somehow) and they’re helping her move her belongings into the waiting truck below. Amy offered to make herself scarce about an hour and a half ago and Beca notes she is now lounging on her own bed, flipping through a magazine.

The Brooklyn apartment is so small. It was ridiculous that they were attempting to fit that many people at all, let alone smoothly move herself, Aubrey, Emily, Stacie, Lilly, Cynthia-Rose, and - of course - Chloe in and out of the apartment was difficult. Aubrey seemed to delight in delegating tasks to people and reorganizing Beca’s boxes, despite Beca’s insistence that there was already a system in place (there wasn’t) and that Beca would prefer that Aubrey didn’t touch her things (she really didn’t mind, it was just funny to see Aubrey’s lips purse into a thin line and it was also fun to hear Chloe’s light giggles).

Beca doesn’t want to admit it because she’s enjoying the company and the chaos, but it’d probably be easier if she did this herself, but her heart thuds in her chest of giving up precious time with her friends – her family – before she has to move across the country.

Chloe and Aubrey both were trying their best to organize the Bellas. Chloe had the upper hand of also having lived in the apartment and knowing exactly where Beca’s things were – even things that she didn’t even know she had. Aubrey, however, had a chart. It looked remarkably like her old blocking charts when she ran Bellas choreography and considering how disorganized everybody happens to be at the moment, Beca thinks it’s somewhat indicative of why Chloe had primarily taken care of choreography as opposed to Aubrey (or even Beca herself).

It didn’t matter however, how helpful Chloe and Aubrey were being. Nobody was really listening and it was mostly a cacophony of noise and laughter. Beca wouldn’t have it any other way.

Their friends were just…terrible at moving, it seemed.

Cynthia-Rose and Emily were probably the most helpful ones. Beca had to quickly remove a few items from Lilly’s grasp because she looked close to either breaking it or, well, Beca’s not sure what else she would have done with it. Stacie was flirting with Beca’s next door neighbour about ninety percent of the time. It ultimately didn’t matter who was being helpful at any point in time, ultimately; everybody else was consistently bad at moving that somebody’s helpfulness didn’t make much of a difference.

Beca is thankful that she packed most of her stuff anyway before her friends arrived. With Chloe’s help, they had managed to square most of her things away.

“I’m going to be lucky if I can find a mug at all,” Beca murmurs to Chloe.

Chloe smiles at her, vibrant as always. “Is there anything else I can pack for you?” Beca tries not to focus on the underlying storm of emotions in Chloe’s eyes – a far cry from the emotions Beca had previously been privy to when, well-

“You’re such a good kisser,” Chloe murmurs, tugging Beca back into her body.

“You said that,” Beca reminds her, chasing her lips with her own. She tucks her hands into the back pockets of Chloe’s jeans, sighing heavily against Chloe’s mouth when Chloe’s hips rock into hers determinedly. “I think you’re a good kisser too.”

Chloe giggles. “We’re drunk,” she points out unnecessarily, sitting heavily on their shared bed.

“Amy’s not home,” Beca replies, as if that somehow makes sense. She breathes deeply, watching Chloe unbutton and unzip her jeans, pushing them hastily down her hips. Chloe’s eyes are ablaze – lit up with the reflection of the soft light emanating from their small stand-up lamp. Beca swallows at the heaviness of Chloe’s gaze: heated, tender, and filled with unmistakable lust as she slides her hands up Beca’s bare thighs.

“Come here,” Chloe murmurs.

“You should move back in,” Beca points out, watching intently when Chloe pulls her own her shirt over her head. Chloe moving out after a fight with Beca was still a sore spot between the two, but preserving their friendship had been the most important thing on Beca’s mind. She supposes it kind of worked, all things considered. “We could be doing this all the time,” Beca says in a convincing tone.

“And what’s this?” Chloe asks, swinging her leg over Beca’s thighs and effectively straddling her.

Beca chalks up her lack of an answer to the fact that Chloe’s hand is sliding down the front of her underwear.

It’s nothing. Everything.

That had been the beginning of a…tentative relationship. A tense, back-and-forth that was neither a complete friends-with-benefits situation, nor was it an actual, fully-blossomed relationship.

Beca had cared too much about her job, and Chloe cared too much about holding on to the past.

(Also, it had been so difficult for Beca to categorize the terms of their relationship as anything remotely friendly – not when she was so ridiculously in love with Chloe Beale and had been for years.

There was also the added bonus of knowing that Chloe likely had feelings for her too.

Just.

Neither of them were in the right place.)

The break-up had been gradual.

Not that there had been much to break-up to begin with.

It’s fine. They’re still friends.

(It’s only just one of the best and most achingly sad years of their lives.)

Chloe blinks.

And now, Beca Mitchell is moving across the country.

Away, away, away-

“Hm, can you just check my nightstand? I emptied it last night, but like, if you do that, then you don’t have to drag Stacie away from Greg again.”

Chloe snorts. “So considerate.”

Beca grins at her and leaves the apartment to bring a box downstairs to the truck.

Chloe gazes around the nearly empty apartment. Of course, Amy’s things are still there, but all she sees are the spaces where Beca’s things should be, but they aren’t. She doesn’t see Beca’s favorite headphones, she doesn’t see Beca’s favorite jacket, messily draped over the closest chair, she doesn’t see Beca’s laptop, balanced precariously on the kitchen counter.

She doesn’t see Beca.

Moving out had been the best decision for Chloe at the time. She remembers when she had packed all her things away about two years ago, realizing it was for the best because her feelings for Beca were getting out of hand and Beca was still working through the long distance thing with Jesse.

Then, as suddenly as Chloe had moved out, Beca and Jesse had broken up.

And as equally suddenly, Beca had her tongue shoved down Chloe’s throat and her hand raking up Chloe’s back, bringing Chloe back into her orbit again.

And again and again and again-

Chloe shakes her head to herself and picks up a surprisingly empty box near the bed. Sitting on the edge, she opens Beca’s drawer, peering into it and making sure Beca has everything she needs. She smiles as she sees Beca’s old glasses, a bunch of colorful pens, and an old, somewhat familiar beanie that Beca clearly no longer had any use for. It was folded unceremoniously and shoved near the back of the drawer. She bites her lip and quickly picks up the beanie, intending on keeping it when suddenly, a small box falls out of the hat and onto her lap.

Chloe’s heart nearly leaps into her throat. The box strikes familiarity in her, even though she can’t recall ever seeing this.

The voice in her head tells her she’s wrong.

She knows this box like the back of her hand – how could she forget?

Against her better judgment, she opens it an inhales shakily at the delicate diamond perched on a simple silver band.

Her mouth forms an ‘o’ before she can stop herself and she would collapse if she weren’t already sitting.

The six-month old memory is as clear as day.

She never forgot, she just pushed it aside because it drummed up terrible feelings of guilt and despair.

Chloe can’t sleep. It was too quiet her apartment. Now that she lived by herself, she didn’t get the sound of Amy’s snores – the perfect white noise machine against the constant sound of New York traffic.

She hates the quiet; she hates being away from Beca.

She had grown accustomed to Beca’s presence over the past year, since they decided to take their flirting to the next level, but it clearly wasn’t enough since neither of them was really willing to try to push for more.

Too afraid, too soon, too needy – excuses run through Chloe’s head regularly these days and only make her angrier and more afraid of losing Beca forever.

It felt right at the time, quietly telling Beca that they shouldn’t see each other anymore, but Beca’s hurt expression and the immediate rebuilding of her walls had nearly completely shattered Chloe’s resolve.

As if on cue, her phone buzzes on her nightstand. Once, then twice, then a third and fourth time in a row.

Becachlochloeeeopen, pleaseits fucking cold

Chloe blinks, unsure if she’s dreaming or having some kind of nightmare – a reminder of what she can’t have.

Chloeare you sleep-texting me?

Against her better judgment, Chloe wraps her jacket around her shoulders and grabs her keys. At the front steps of her building, sure enough, Beca is there, pacing, just outside her door.

She has to know. Beca looks determined. “Beca?”

Beca stops pacing immediately and reached up to adjust her hat – a soft knitted beanie that fit snugly on her head. Chloe tilts her head, thinking that Beca looks adorable (as she usually does), but also a little cold.

“Nice PJs, Beale,” Beca says, walking towards her slowly.

"Are you drunk?” Chloe asks softly. “Bec, I should call you an Uber and get you home.”

“This is a bad idea,” Beca says, mostly to herself. Chloe frowns in confusion. “I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?”

“I love you and I’m sorry.”

Chloe blinks. “You love me?”

“Yes.”

“Beca, this isn’t…you’re drunk. You can’t seriously expect me to…”

“Please say you love me back. Please tell me that this is killing you as much as it’s killing me.” Beca looks like she’s fighting the urge to grab the front of Chloe’s jacket. Chloe’s kind of grateful she doesn’t because she doesn’t know if she can resist.

“Beca, we just need time, okay? Neither of us…You just broke up with Jesse.”

“Yeah, almost a year ago!” Beca shouts.

Chloe winces, hoping her neighbours are deep sleepers. “Beca, keep your voice down.”

“Why are you so fucking fixated on him? Why can’t you see that I’m – I’m trying and –” Beca’s brow furrows. “Why do you get to be okay about all this?” Beca asks softly, breaking the edge in her voice. “Stop it.”

Chloe sighs. “Beca, you should come inside and lie down-”

“Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not!” Beca cries.

Tears spring to Chloe’s eyes. “Of course I’m not okay,” she says softly as Beca starts to cry in earnest. “We should talk about this tomorrow. This is the right thing to do, trust me.”

"No, just – just listen to me, Chlo,” Beca says after a loud sniffle. Chloe instinctively reaches out to hold on to Beca’s forearms even though her brain screams at her not to.

"I-I know…that you love me,” Beca says quickly. “But I also…I know that we both need to learn how to…how to grow together.” She bites her lip, struggling for words. “You deserve someone who will put your dreams first. Somebody who’ll help you and - and lift you up. I want to be that person for you. I can be that person, I promise. I can – I can quit my job and-”

“I don’t want you to quit your job,” Chloe says softly. “I never wanted that.”

“But I would do that,” Beca replies, tilting her head in confusion. “I…I want to be your first choice and, I think, even if I’m not, I think you and I could really make a life together. I would do everything to make you happy, and I know I can’t change the past or how long I made you wait, or – or how fucking awful I’ve been, but I promise I’d protect you and love you and put your needs first.”

Beca pauses then, seemingly waiting for a response. Her eyes peer into Chloe’s blearily.

“I don’t understand,” Chloe says finally, when the silence grows too heavy. Maybe she’s drunk.

She’s so tired.

Her heart seems to tell her that Beca is saying something, but it’s too muddled. Too contrary to everything Beca seemed to want from her when they were actually together.

"No,” Beca says quickly when she sees Chloe start to move away. “I’m not done. Chloe, I know it’s sudden and everything, but every day I think about how much I want to wake up next to you.”

Before Chloe can do or say anything, Beca is presenting a velvet box that she apparently had in her pocket the whole time. Chloe’s hands fall limply to her side as she stares at Beca numbly. Suddenly the cold doesn’t seem to matter. “Marry me?”

…That’s a ring.

There’s a ring.

And Beca definitely just proposed to her, managing to include swearing somehow.

“Please, I know…I know that you trust me, and I trust you, and I think we can make it. I’ve known how much you meant to me since Barden. Since you walked into my damn shower. I was just so damn confused.” Beca is crying again and Chloe feels her own eyes well up in response. “And – and if you one day think you’ll…find somebody else, I promise I’ll walk away now and we can pretend this never happened. I promise,” she repeats.

Chloe’s reality seems to fizzle in and out.

“What?” she tries to ask, but her voice comes out as some wisp of a breath – a barely-there whisper.

The silence seems to extend.

“Okay, so, no,” Beca mumbles to herself. “That’s a no, if I’ve ever heard one.”

Chloe wonders if she should protest, because Beca is mumbling to herself and fumbling with her phone. She stares at Beca for the next few minutes until an Uber pulls up to the curb and Chloe has enough mind to hastily ensure that the driver is bringing Beca back home and not some random location.

The next morning, after a night of no sleep at all, she texts Beca hastily.

Chloeare you ok?

Becayeah, why wouldn’t I be?

It echoes in her mind, like an incessant alarm. She can’t figure out how to turn it off.

Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not.

“Did you get everything?” Beca asks, breaking Chloe’s reverie again.

Chloe quickly hides the box under Beca’s beanie and quickly shoves a bunch of pens into Beca’s hands when she turns around. “Yep, totes.”

“Are you okay?” Beca asks, taking in Chloe’s blush.

A million responses come to mind.

Chloe settles on one.

“Yes,” she says. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

fin / fic tag

#my fanfic #bechloe #mine #text #beca mitchell #chloe beale #fic prompt #pitch perfect #fanfiction #Anonymous #ask

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