#though personally i think will would listen to YOURS and FIGHT OR FLIGHT
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fuck conan gray man, why is his music so will byers-coded and why am i watching byler scenes in my mind on repeat and crying
#i love you conan but also fuck you#(affectionate)#his music makes me feel things#i will never shut up about canon x will#like please#it’s not even about AU will listening to conan#it’s that conan’s songs describe will’s situation and byler from will’s POV#SO well#like omg what#though personally i think will would listen to YOURS and FIGHT OR FLIGHT#and scream in his bedroom#and maybe cry over THE STORY and HEATHER#and also THE EXIT#and also SUMMER CHILD#like come on#byler#mike wheeler#byler endgame#byler nation#will byers#miwi#antimileven#byler is canon#byler brainrot
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Hawks Headcanons
A/N: I am currently obsessed with Hawks (if you couldn't tell) and writing for him is fun. I made these headcanons while procrastinating on my midterm paper a few days ago-
Warnings: Some NSFW content; MDNI. Some angst too
Starting things off with an angsty bang, Hawks has a bad habit of plucking his feathers when he is stressed out. It’s never too often and it’s never to a critical extent, but it does occur. Birds often do this as a form of coping with negative feelings, so perhaps he does this after a brutal mission.
Like many other people, I firmly believe that Keigo has a thing for shiny or interesting looking objects. Again, it’s not to an obsessive extent, but he does have a good eye for pretty trinkets. Especially ones he thinks will look good on you.
I don’t think Hawks is a good cook. There, I said it. This man barely has time for himself, do you really think he has time to devote to cooking? Do you really think that the Commission taught him to cook? Fuck no. He sticks to quick take out purely out of necessity.
They say that the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and this is absolutely true with Keigo. He would love the little lunches and dinners you make for him while he is at work! He gobbles it up like a turkey. He swears that your food is the best thing he has ever had; he literally moans when the aroma hits his nostrils.
I forget which fic I read this from (I will link if I find it), but I adore the headcanon of Hawk’s taking rut suppressant pills. I just think it makes so much sense since it aligns with his work-centric life and his lack of a wife (we aren’t talking about when you are married to him, obviously). They are probably similar to birth control pills where they stop the rut from happening 5% of the time.
Even without his rut happening, Keigo still has a huge breeding kink. Can you blame him though? He just thinks that you'll look gorgeous with his cum leaking out of your pretty pussy.
*whispers* he also has the equipment to match
He has definitely accidentally run into a window from imagining you with a cute lil baby bump.
He can get a little whiny and needy about wanting to devour your pussy. He will straight up beg you on his hands and knees. Please say yes to him.
The songs Angel with a Shotgun and Mr Blue Sky fit him so well. Fight me on this.
Also the song Hey Look Ma, I made it
I just imagine happy birb listening to Mr. Blue Sky after meeting you.
Intentional or not, his wings flap and rustle during sex.
On the topic of his wings, I don’t think they are as sensitive as we all wish they were. It’s not like he’s gonna start moaning and whimpering when random fans touch his wings (he canonical doesn’t) HOWEVER, it does feel nice when you massage and gently comb your fingertips through them. I’m thinking that it’s similar to hair?? Or maybe his wings are ticklish?? But only in the right context??
You are the only person he really trusts to take care of his wings
Keigo loves holding you in his arms and taking you on night flights. The stars always seem brighter when they are reflected in your eyes (at least, Keigo thinks so…). You even have your own set of aviator goggles to wear during these dates.
One of his favorite things is when he DOESN’T have morning patrol and can snuggle you until at least 10 in the morning. Although it may be longer because his sleep debt is so huge. There is just something so satisfying and peaceful with having you close enough to hear your heartbeat.
His biggest dream is being able to have a family with you in a quaint little house. His life, your life…they aren’t constantly in danger and he can sleep in with you, make you breakfast (it’s only a little burnt), wrap his wings around you.
Keigo is extremely possessive of, not only you, but the life you created together. He is very sensitive towards things that threaten the small slice of normalcy he has, eliciting a sense of hypervigilance and territorialism.
His mental state isn’t the best from the culmination of trauma he experiences, leading him to commit psychic cannibalism on himself. He represses all of these negative feelings in order to perform to the best of his ability and be the good lap dog for the Hero Commission.
Needs therapy.
It’s established that he has some form of echolocation through his feathers. So…hear me out…just to make sure you are safe 24/7, Keigo gives you one of his smaller feathers. I’m not going to rant because I might make this into a small oneshot/drabble later
#Keigo Takami#Keigo Takami x reader#Hawks#Hawks x reader#Hawk mha#bnha#reader insert#Hawks smut#Keigo Takami smut#Hawks x reader smut#my hero academia smut#mha smut#mha x reader#Hawks headcanons#Keigo headcanons#Keigo x reader#Hawks x you#Keigo Takami x you#fluff
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Doctor, Doctor, please listen!
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that
1.
“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.”
Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers.
“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying.
“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could.
Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you.
“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question.
Damn. Tough crowd.
You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.
The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.
“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang.
The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal.
He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?
“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.
He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?
“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.
You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”
2.
The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac.
Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home.
You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him.
You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right.
Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him.
“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action.
“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest.
“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.
Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?”
“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.
You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop.
I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor
You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing.
He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here.
“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.
3.
Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.
It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said.
“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently.
“I got stabbed.”
“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”
He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him.
“Holy shit.”
You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.
“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped.
He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital.
“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”
Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.
“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?
“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.
“Fucking hell, Spence.”
Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it.
“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you.
“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”
His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#x reader#x chubby reader#x fat reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#fanfiction#suggestive#spencer reid x chubby reader#spencer reid x fat reader#spencer reid x plus size reader#plus size reader#cupid:SR
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505
"I'm going back to 505.
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty five minute drive
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
With your hands in between your thighs.."
-505 by Arctic Monkeys
Cecil Stedman x Reader
About: After a nasty fight between the two of you, you have had enough of Cecil for the last time or so you think.
Notes: AMAZING AMAZING COVERT ART DONE BY THE SUPERB @geddy-spageddy please go check out their art! They're super talented and kind! I love Arctic Monkeys and the idea came to me while listening to this song. I hope you enjoy it! Some toxicity angst, nothing abusive though, and some drinking use involved. Italics are past memories. Enjoy :3

"Darlin', I didn't mean it-
"You still said it though! If you didn't mean to say: 'God if you're so fucking tired then why did you say it?!" You cried out.
"Well, you ask so much from me all the goddamn time!! I'm the one busting my ass all the fucking time!" Cecil yelled back.
"Just because I ask you to be here for me doesn't mean you get to scream bloody-"
"Your room number is 505, ma'am."
The check in guy knocked you out of the flashback, even though the event just happened an hour ago.
"Thank you." You mumble, taking the room key from him.
You gave a friendly nod to him and turned to find the room, the room you've been accustomed to going to every once in a while.
505.
Seeing the room number felt like it was taunting you as if it were saying: 'Welcome to your second home.' You shook the thought of your head as you unlocked the door and stepped in. The all familiar beige basic walls with the white curtains, old boxy TV as well as the floral bedsheets comforted you in a sense. You shut and lock the door behind you and collapse onto the more than less comfortable mattress. This would be your last time coming here, for you were set in stone on staying here for a couple of days or so, however long it would take to find a new apartment for you to live in. All that you knew though was that you were done.
"Cecil..wake up."
"Hm?' Cecil grumbled.
He was still half asleep, but almost immediately woke up to your voice. It was like a sweet melody to his ears. You reached over and rubbed his back, hearing a half tired groan come from Cecil. Your touch sent chills down his spine, but in a good way. It was a reminder to what he has in his life. Cecil sighed deeply as he rolled over, facing you and immediately taking you into his arms. Cecil attached his lips to yours, bringing you even closer to him.
"This is the best part of my day." Cecil said once he pulled apart from you.
"Why is that?" You ask cheekily.
"Because I get to see your pretty self before I have to slave the day away."
You chuckled, attaching your lips back onto his.
The sound of the empty glass hitting the table was what echoed throughout the empty house. The only person there was Cecil. Normally you would be there, but you weren't. In fact, he knew exactly where you were at. But this time it was so bad that you both got in each others faces. So much screaming that his ears were still ringing from it. Cecil knew he was at fault for this and not just this time but for the many other times it has happened. He loves you, he really does. But damn it, he knew he was shitty. Cecil knew he was a shitty partner to you and knew he could do better. But it was the same old, same old. Cecil filled up his drink again, trying to wash away the events from earlier.
"I'm done! I never want to see you again!"
Your words echoed in his mind. Cecil said some stuff he shouldn't have but you did as well. It was just gasoline from one another to the already bursting fire. You had gotten in his face and it only caused him to get even more louder. Nothing physically happened, but it was a horrible screaming match to the point you threw your coat at him and walked out. The door slammed so hard that y'alls framed picture on y'alls anniversary fell and shattered.
"Shit, shit." Cecil had cursed as he went to retrieve the picture that fell.
He moved the glass shards away, realizing the picture was still in tact and the frame just needed to be replaced. In the process of it, Cecil's hand was cut up from the glass, but he didn't care. For the first time in a long while, Cecil felt some strand tears fall down his face. This was it. It was over.
"Please just..leave me alone."
"I'm just trying to help you out, Cecil." You say.
"Okay well maybe I just want some damn piece and quiet after work."
"I just want a fucking hug or even a hello from you, Cecil! Not just you grumble in, go and have a drink and give me the stank eye when I ask you about your day!!"
"I just want to be left alone for Christ's sake!! You're always jumping down my throat for everything!!"
'And now for the four o'clock news..'
The lukewarm soda went down your throat nicely, followed by the salt goodness from the potato chips. You were chowing down, trying to eat your feelings away and distract yourself. Despite the news and the badly made sitcom shows that you skimmed through, you still felt the frog in your throat. You wanted to cry but you held it together. This was ultimately the final straw. Lots of screaming and cursing at each other, sleeping in separate rooms, and lots of drinking to cope. Despite all of that though, you loved him. You love Cecil deeply, even at times like these. Great cuddler, great sense of humor, great in bed, and great at being..loving. Your mind started reminiscing on the good times. The honeymoon stage was your favorite. Cecil was more like himself then and was much more open. Over the years he started building his walls up and up slowly against you, even though there was no reason for him to do so. Granted you knew what he did for a job, being director of the GDA and all, but it killed you inside that you just wanted to help him.
"You look absolutely ravishing in that, darlin'." Cecil complimented you.
You turned around to find Cecil in the doorway. There was a company dinner party happening and of course you were going to go with him. You were his significant other after all. He trusts and loves you so he wasn't afraid of you knowing about anything.
"Thanks." You say.
Cecil approached you from behind and ran his hands down your body in a romantic way. Sure, Cecil liked to admire how you looked and how blessed he was to have you, but this was all romantic, not lustful. Cecil then leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on your temple, feeling the rough edges from his cheek scar.
"Sorry." He mumbled.
"For?"
"My cheek, I know it can be irritating."
"Why would it be?" You ask genuinely.
Cecil sighed deeply, placing a peck on your cheek.
"We'll talk later, hun. We need to get going." Cecil said as he squeezed your hips.
"Alright, you cheeky bastard." You response making him giggle.
Every time you both argued, Cecil would go out for a drive in his car. It often helped him clear out his head, more than alcohol ever would. He waited until he was sober enough to do it of course, despite wanting to do it right away. But despite both of you being mad at each other, Cecil would never do anything intentional to get back at you. Sure he would cuss at you and say hurtful shit out of anger, but he would wait until he was sober enough to drive. Driving relaxed him, and made him feel like he at least had a little bit of control in his life over something. You made him feel content with life but the more often this was happening, the more he felt like he was going to loose you. He didn't want that. As he sat there in that kitchen, contemplating on getting another drink, Cecil made a decision. He wants you. He wants to be with you till the end of time. Even if the world explodes due to his negligence, he wants you there. Cecil wants to hold you in his arms, caressing your face, whispering sweet nothings to you in comfort. And as the sky turns orange, his chapped, cracked lips will connect to your lips, squeezing your hand tightly in comfort as it all ends. He wants you.
"Darlin', shh, I got you."
"Not even a text or nothing, Stedman?! I thought you were dead." You pushed him away from you.
Cecil just approached you again but you walked away, trying to hurry to lock yourself in the bedroom out of anger. You slammed the door.
"FUCK!" Cecil exclaimed.
The door flew open as he stood there in the doorway. He knew you were upset at him, hell when were you not upset at him? Cecil was such a fuckup that he wouldn't be surprised if the world blew up because of him.
"Hun, I'm sorry. Okay? I-I should've texted you and told you. I'm sorry." Cecil apologized, making him sound like a broken record.
"Cecil I'm fucking pissed because I love you and just want you okay!"
"Why?!" Cecil almost tearfully yelled, "why do you love me?! All I do is treat you like garbage! I don't..shit." Cecil grumbled, running his hands through his hair.
Cecil leaned against the wall and slid down on it, sitting on the floor. His hands were resting on his temples as he looked straight down on the ground. You didn't know whether to approach him or give him space. You hated when things were like this between y'all, but you really do love Cecil. He had a kind soul deep down and he loved you too, he just wasn't used to anyone caring for him so damn much.
"Cecil.."
"Just..just leave. You deserve someone better than me."
Your heart shattered upon hearing that. Despite all of the damn fights you both have and how bad they can be, you still loved him deep down. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You sat down next to him, gingerly grabbed one of his hands, and held it. Cecil looked at you. His face had softened, and his eyes seemed to be glimmer, which was a first for you. You sat closer and brought his hand close and placed a soft kiss onto it.
"I'm here, Cecil. Forever and always."
Cecil blinked, and tears fell down his face. He cleared his throat as he was trying not to bring attention to that. Ever so slowly, did you reach your hand to his face to gently wipe the tears away from his face. You didn't know it at the time, but the action made Cecil the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. More tears fell down his face, and you could ever so slightly hear his voice breaking. You leaned against the wall, sitting up taller than Cecil. You both sat there in silence, trying to come up with something to say, anything at all to break the silence. And suddenly, in the midst of the deep silence between you two, you felt a light weight on your shoulders.
All of the snacks and soda were gone, and all you could do was hold the pillow against your chest as you silently sobbed into it. You felt that this was really the final straw between you two. You didn't want it to be, but you knew it was for the best. Cecil and you live in different worlds and just aren't good for each other. You were slowly going through your phone gallery, deleting photos of the two of you. It was best to get it over with, just rip the band aid off. Each photo you deleted, more tears went down. You were hurt and was already missing him.
"Goodbye, Cecil." You mumble as you deleted the last photo of you two.
You tossed your phone across the bed and held the pillow out of anger. You knew you were at some fault for what happened but you just wanted Cecil to let you in. He had put walls up, walls that he wouldn't let anyone break down. As angry as he made you, you fucking loved him. You just wanted-
*KnockKnock*
Your heart raced as your eyes locked with the door. It was locked with the door knob and the chain lock. There was silence except for the nonsense that was on the television. Your conscience told you not to get up.
Don't do it. You know who it is.
"Darlin'?"
You felt your body go numb upon hearing Cecil's voice from the other side of the door.
"Stedman, it's over." You shout in instinct.
"Please just open the door." Cecil begged.
"I'm through, Stedman." You yell back.
You stiffled your sobs into the pillow, hoping Cecil wouldn't hear them but he could. And Cecil felt a heavy weight in his chest upon hearing your sobs you were trying to hide. But he knew begging wouldn't get him anywhere, it would just make things worse.
"Okay if you won't open the door, will you just hear me out?" Cecil asked.
As much as you wanted him to just go away, you didn't leave him much to say when you left the house. It was the least you could do.
"What do you want?"
"I know I'm a piece of shit. I know. I treat you horribly, yell at you, take shit out on you. I do it all, I'm aware. And I'm an asshole for not changing when I said I would. You deserve better, I meant that. You deserve someone way better than me. But.." Cecil paused, gathering the right words to say, for he has never been this sentiment before in his life to anyone other than maybe Donald, his number one. "You. You have done fundamental change for me. More than I could ever put into words. Hun, I see light in this world now. It's not much, but fuck, it's something. It's more than I ever have in my years of living and doing what I do. I know you hate me and don't want nothing to do with me anymore, but please. I am literally begging you to give me one last chance. And you know me I don't ever fucking beg for anything, not even my own life."
Hearing Cecil quite literally beg for you to give him another chance for the first time ever did a number on you. Not only did it increase the tears falling down your face, but it brought back the happy memories you and him have. Through the bad ones though, the more you thought of it, the good ones slightly oversaw the bad ones. The many dates y'all had, the nights you both would stay in and be with each other, the drinks and food y'all would engage with, the intimate, loving moments, they all came souring back into your mind.
Fuck.
Despite it all-
"I love you so much, darlin'." Cecil's voice cracked, "Please."
-you fucking loved him.
Without answering, you put the pillow onto the bed, slowly crept to the door and held your fingers over the chain link. Was this what you wanted?
Yes, yes it was. Cecil has never professed his love like this for you before ever in his life. Something changed. You weren't sure what it was but it was enough. It was enough for you. You slid the chain lock undone, undid the lock on the knob, and swung the door open. Standing there in front of you was a different Cecil, a Cecil you have never seen before. His face was red, with fresh and old tears staining his face. His expression softened once you opened the door and he saw you. Cecil even cracked a smile. You couldn't help but do it back to the ol' southern bastard. The ol' southern bastard that you loved and wanted to be with.
"Can..Can I come in?" Cecil asked.
"Yes, Cecil."
~
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What Makes You Tick - Chapter 1
(Ticci Toby x Reader)
Waah idk why I'm so nervous to post this part T~T 🖤🖤 I really hope you enjoy! And it would make me super happy if you lmk what you think!! 🖤🖤
Commissions are open!
Check out my ko-fi if you'd like to support me!
Masterlist: x
Prologue
Divider by @plum98

The scream is loud.
It’s shrill and abrasive, and it ends as quickly as it began—like the person’s breath was abruptly interrupted.
You bolt up. The sound awakens a deep, primal urge within you, and in a matter of seconds, you’re on high alert.
The fact that you’re home alone really only makes the whole situation that much worse.
You count the seconds ever so slowly ticking by. You don’t dare to move an inch. You just hold your breath, waiting, listening to the sound of your own heartbeat in your eardrums.
When you reach 100 and there isn’t another piercing scream, only then does your body recover from the freeze instinct. You move to the windows, try to see something—anything outside.
When nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, you nervously chew at your lip. Did you just imagine it? You don’t see anyone outside; no worried onlookers trying to find the source of the noise, no frantic person wandering the streets for help, nothing.
What are the chances only you would’ve heard it?
The scream replays itself in your head. It sounded like it could’ve come from your downstairs neighbor.
You’re probably the closest person in the vicinity, you realize. If they need help, you might be the only person who could assist them.
You grab your phone and rush out the door. Down the steps, you reach your neighbor’s door and offer three quick knocks against the wood.
You wait, nervously, anxiously, every second ticking by feeling much too long for comfort. When there’s no answer, you knock again. The memory of the scream rings in your ears again, and you feel your hands get sweaty with stress.
No one answers the door. You check your phone, calculate that at least seven minutes have gone by. Would it be appropriate to call the cops?
You open the phone app, then hesitate. Would they even take you seriously? You never once called the police in your life, and just thinking about it has you conjuring up a whole slew of ways it could go wrong.
You linger around the door for a few more minutes, then eventually give up and return up to your apartment. Your plan is to call your parents or roommate or maybe even your friend—anyone who might be able to advise you on what to do. But as soon as you reach your door, you get an eerie chill up your spine. Something isn’t right.
Your door is open.
It’s just a crack; barely even noticeable, and though you did leave in a rush, you’re fairly certain you didn’t leave the door open. It’s not something you would do.
You clutch your phone between tense fingers. Calling for help—even though it should be—is no longer on your mind. All you’re thinking about is who the fuck is in your home right now—and why.
It’s, again, like a fight, flight or freeze instinct kicking in. Except this time, your usual sense of self-preservation is overridden and you’re fully ready to fight.
You open the door, half expecting to see someone in the middle of your living room, but there’s no one there. Relief nearly washes over you, until you glance down and notice a trail of dirt leading deeper into your house.
Seeing it suddenly makes it all the more real.
There’s really someone here. There’s a stranger in your house.
As quietly as humanly possible, you follow along the trail. You’re so focused that your surroundings almost seem to melt away. When you see it; the silhouette of a person you don’t recognize, who doesn’t belong here, in your house, you act without second thought.
One hard hit to the back of the head is all it takes. The person crumples to the floor on impact. You gasp, the sound completely involuntary because holy shit—did that just happen?
Suddenly remembering your phone, you yank it up and dial 911.
The person seems to be knocked out cold, and as the line is ringing, you realize your hand hurts from hitting them so hard. A wave of fear tightens in your chest. Surely, you didn’t severely injure them, right? Surely, they’re just knocked out for a little while, and then they’ll wake up, and they’ll be fine, and you won’t get into any trouble, right?
It all counts as self-defense anyways, right?
Having never called the cops before, you don’t think much of the wait time. Your mind is so preoccupied with what you’ve done, with what’s happened in such a short amount of time, that you don’t even realize how long you’re waiting for.
But then you start to get nervous that the intruder will wake up. Or, worse, that they won’t wake up. The line is still ringing, and when you bring your phone down to check how long it’s been, you find that over five minutes have passed.
What the fuck is going on?
You can only stand to wait a few more minutes before you realize no one’s going to answer.
Maybe something’s down with the lines, or some other big emergency happened elsewhere and they don’t have the staff required to answer. Whatever it is, you’re on your own right now.
You hang up, tell yourself you’ll call back in a few minutes, and then you’re left staring at the knocked-out body of the intruder.
Judging by the shape and size of the figure, they seem to be male. They’re relatively tall and lean, with a square kind of build that tapers down at their hips. You can’t see their face, but they have thick, curly brown hair that reaches below their ears.
You should flip them over, you think. You should flip them over and take a picture of their face so that you have some kind of proof.
You kneel down, wrap your fingers around their form, and, as gently as you can so as to not wake them, you turn them over.
Your stomach drops at the sight. You can’t see their face since it’s hidden beneath orange-tilted goggles and some kind of mouthguard. But it’s what you see on their clothes that has you feeling light-headed.
Blood.
They’re covered in it.
It’s splattered along the front of their hoody, staining the fabric in a dark crimson color. You can’t tell if it’s theirs or someone else’s, and though all logic points to the former, you don’t even want to piece everything together.
You notice as well, now that they’re turned over, that they have a belt tied around their hips. And two blood-soaked axes are hanging from it.
You nearly scream, but the bile threatening to rise up your throat has you holding it all in. And you’re thankful for it, because god knows you don’t want them to wake up now.
If you weren’t high on adrenaline, you’re certain you’d be panicking—more so than you are now, at least. But it’s like your senses are heightened, and your thoughts are much clearer than they otherwise would be, and something inside you is forcing you to stay as calm as possible.
Secure them.
You need to find something to secure them before they wake up.
The best thing you can find on such short notice is a long-sleeved shirt you’d haphazardly left in the living room. You’d meant to put it away, but you hadn’t gotten to it yet—and you’ve never been so thankful for your laziness.
Your hands are shaking as you wrap the sleeves around the stranger’s wrists. You try to make it as tight as possible, and then you knot it over and over again until you’ve no more fabric left to tighten.
You’re grabbing your phone and dialing 911 again as soon as you can. But when you bring it up to your ear, the line doesn’t ring. You wait—fifteen seconds, thirty, a minute—expecting the ringing to start at any moment, but it doesn’t.
On the other end of the line, there’s just silence. Eerie, cold, dead silence. The ends of your hair stand at attention from the goosebumps rising on your skin. Something’s definitely not right.
Just as you’re about to hang up—static blares from your phone. It’s loud and unbearable and completely overpowering, like the sound is ringing inside your own head. It's impossible to think straight.
You scream, throwing your phone to stop the noise. But even with the phone away from your ears, it’s like the noise keeps echoing in your mind. All you can do is press your hands to your ears and squeeze your eyes shut and scream in agony.
It’s dizzying. It’s nauseating. You have no space to think, no space to do anything but clutch your ears and pray the noise will stop. It’s maddening.
You feel like you’re on the verge of passing out from the sheer pain and intensity of it all when, in an instant, it stops.
You don’t pull your hands away from your ears for a good few seconds afterward. Your heart is pumping loudly in your chest. Your jaw hurts from grinding your teeth. Every muscle in your body feels sore from overexertion.
What just happened—are you losing your mind?
Slowly, you hesitantly let go of your head and open your eyes.
He’s awake.
You don’t know if it was your screaming that woke him up—all you know is that he’s conscious, and he's sitting upright and looking at you.
A mix of emotions wash over you at once. You’re relieved he’s alive, confused as to what the hell just happened—and most of all—you’re fucking nauseous with fear.
Fear regarding the source of that noise, but also regarding the fact that there’s a stranger in your house, covered in blood, and the cops aren’t answering. There’s something wrong with your phone, you're home alone, and your neighbor might be bleeding out beneath the floor under your feet. And there's a stranger restrained in your house and you have no idea what the fuck to do.
The worst part is that the person—that man—looks like he's completely calm and at ease. Like he's in total control of the situation.
The nausea worsens, butterflies making you utterly sick to your stomach. It almost feels like you're the one restrained, not him.
You don’t know what to do with yourself.
You stare at him, and he stares back. Or, at least, you think he does; it’s hard to tell beneath his colored lenses.
Your gaze flickers to the hatchets, still secured around his waist. You kick yourself for not taking them off of him. And then you look at your phone, which you threw halfway between you and him, and you swallow back the lump in your throat.
When you look back at him, you notice that he’d followed your gaze to also look at your phone. He looks back at you, tilts his head, and your stomach twists in knots.
Why isn’t he saying anything?
You feel like you’ve accidentally trapped some kind of predatory animal in your apartment. It feels like, at any moment, if you make the wrong move, he’ll lunge at you and rip your throat out.
Never once breaking eye contact, you slowly creep forward to reach your phone.
He doesn’t say a single word as you move, which makes it all the worse. He merely watches you, curiously, like you're one of the most fascinating things he's ever seen.
When you finally reach your phone, you pick it up, open it, and dial 911 again.
You’re hesitant to press it to your ears. You don’t know what kind of malfunction happened earlier, but you’re not too keen on repeating the experience. You hold it at somewhat of a distance, just in case.
It doesn’t ring.
Just like earlier, all that comes through the line is dead silence. You wait maybe a minute before, out of fear of the static interrupting again, you close the line.
You try not to let your panic show through, because you can feel the stranger eyeing your every move. You dial your roommate’s number, but it’s the same problem.
With unsteady hands, you text your parents that you need help contacting 911. Although they don’t live close to you anymore, they’re usually the fastest to answer your texts. And you need help fast.
When they don’t answer, you text your roommate and friends the same thing. Surely, at least one of them is bound to see the text and help you—right?
“You can—you can try all you want. You won’t be able to reach anyone, a-anyways.”
Your blood freezes.
It takes you a second to register his words, and another to react.
“What… what do you mean?” you ask, though the words make your tongue go numb, as if your body’s warning you that just talking to him is a bad idea.
“He’s watching.”
In the culmination of your entire lifetime, you don’t recall having ever felt such pure, tangible fear.
The feeling is similar to that sensation you get when you’re at the peak of a nightmare—when you’re just about to come face-to-face with the monster, or when you’re about to reach the ground after falling from a great height—when you’re just about to die and it all feels so real.
But this moment feels surreal.
“Who’s watching?”
There’s more conviction in your voice than you feel in your entire system. You don’t know how you manage to sound so calm, so self-assured and in control of the situation, but it’s certainly not how you feel on the inside.
“He is. The one who’s—“ he cracks his neck abruptly to the side, interrupting his own sentence before finishing, “always watching.”
Another chill up your spine, though you manage to mask it fairly well, all things considered.
“Don’t—don’t worry. The police will be here—here—they’ll be here soon. Maybe 15, 20 minutes?”
You don’t know whether you should be relieved or unnerved by his reassurance.
“How… do you know that?” you ask hesitantly.
He shrugs, the movement entirely too comfortable, entirely too nonchalant.
“S-s’almost always the same.”
You want out. You want out of this conversation, out of this whole situation. You want him out of your house.
“What do you mean?” you ask, “How many times have you done this?”
You don’t know if you want the answer to your own question. In all honesty, you don’t even want to consider what the “this” in your question even refers to.
But it’s out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself.
He tilts his head, like he’s considering it. And then, after a few seconds, he shrugs again.
“Lost count.”
You don’t like his answer.
15-20 minutes, you think. There’s a chance he's lying to put you at ease, to prevent you from calling again.
But there’s a chance he’s right.
There’s a chance a neighbor heard, or your friends or family saw the text and are getting help. Either way, you realize that you have time to burn. You need to stay calm, focused.
He doesn’t seem agitated, which you take to be a good thing. He doesn’t seem frustrated or angry or unstable. If anything, it’s like he’s open to talking.
What more could you ask for?
You rack your brain for the best course of action. But you’re at a loss. You’re panicking on the inside.
You realize that one of the best things you could probably do is keep him preoccupied, keep him distracted.
“…How old are you?”
You don’t know why that, of all things, is the first question to come to mind. But it seems like a safe enough bet; it’s not too personal so as to upset him, and yet it might help narrow his identity or motivations down.
If only you’d had the chance to remove his mask and snap a pic of his face before he woke up.
You don’t expect him to take as long to answer as he does. He tilts his head again, looks up like he’s trying to calculate something in his head.
And then his answer sends another wave of unease through your system.
“Lost count,” he admits, repeating his previous answer.
You don’t know what that means, what it entails, but you don't even want to know either, at this point.
You rack your brain for another question, something light and easy to keep him talking, when he suddenly jerks his shoulder in a way that doesn’t look entirely voluntary.
You pause.
Did he... did he consume something?
It would explain a few things, though not everything.
He seems coherent enough to hold a conversation, but it’s not like he’s making the most sense. And, at the very least, blaming the strangeness of this whole situation on something simple would make you feel better.
To test out your theory, you ask him outright, “Why are you here? Do you know where you are?”
He looks around, like he’s only now noticing he’s in your apartment.
“This the—the—the upstairs unit? Your place?”
You nod, slowly, but even as you do, you’re not sure you want him to know that. And then you also don’t want to know the answer to the next question, but you need to ask.
“What happened?”
Nothing could’ve prepared you for his response. The way he states it too—so simply, so obviously, like it was as normal as going for groceries—makes you completely sick to your stomach.
And the magnitude of the situation fully crashes down on you when he answers.
“I killed her.”
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stay outta trouble, yeah?
tangerine x southern!reader, 3.7k words summary: he's taken by their southern accent, much like they're taken by his british one. color him intrigued, because why not? he'll be getting them to safety as soon as he can get away from the fight--or rather, telling them to get to safety. a/n: before you read the rest... there are a few lines i took from the movie to keep part of the plot alive. and then it goes haywire... anyway. listen i was just thinking about how incredible it would be to talk to tangerine and not actually hide my personal accent. here you go, pookies. (i'm from west virginia if that helps you). i've also never been farther than türkiye, so my knowledge of what it's like to travel to japan is very limited. pardon my inaccuracies even though i only talk about it for like... .2 seconds, at most. tw: major canon divergence, talks of blood, wounds, cursing, etc.
It'd been a long few days in Tokyo. Traveling for your own enjoyment was always an incredible thing, but good lord, was it exhausting.
The flight, which was non-stop from the Washington Dulles Airport, thank goodness, was nearly sixteen hours. No connecting flights, no dealing with confusing and unfamiliar airports. But just the flight itself was enough to send your sleeping pattern to all kinds of craziness. Don't even mention the fact that you had to drive to the airport, which took several hours just to get there...
Wasn't the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last.
Travel was a luxury so many never had the opportunity to experience. When you had the chance to go to Japan, you took it. It was practically a dream vacation, despite how exhausting it truly was.
You'd come back to Tokyo after a few days in Nagoya, the second to last stop on this bullet train, maybe a quick day trip to Kyoto after, but time was of the essence. You may not have planned every little detail for this trip of a lifetime, but you had a good idea as to what you were going to do.
The bullet train would be at your stop in nearly two hours. That was plenty of time to take a nap and probably figure out what you'll do in Nagoya after finding your planned accommodations.
You found a seat in the "quiet" car, almost giddy to know that there was a car specifically for that. Being from the southern United States, the only actual train you could recall was the Amtrak Trains, but even then, you didn't know as much as you could have about them.
You kept your backpack close to you, trying to find your earbuds so you could have them before you actually sit down.
As you walked, absentmindedly, of course, you bump into a rather tall and, might I add, breathtaking man with one of those 80s' mustaches—like the guy from that one season of American Horror Story. It rather suited him, but that's not what you were thinking as the words quickly spilled from your mouth:
"I'm so sorry," you said, southern drawl instantaneous. "Wasn't watching where I was goin'."
The man looked down at you, blue eyes curiously catching yours. He smiled, and you could feel your heart melt within you. Or maybe your lungs. It seemed hard to breathe for a moment.
"No worries, love," he said, a very British accent joining his words. He scrunched his nose a bit and moved out of your way, while the man behind him muttered something under his breath. "No harm done."
You return his smile, although hesitantly. God, was he gorgeous. But that was beside the point. You moved around him, knowing you probably looked like a mess—you had only spent two nights in Tokyo, and they weren't very restful. Skincare could only do so much to make you look awake and not like you've risen from the dead just hours prior.
You choose a seat nearby where the British man and his two friends were sitting, putting your backpack on the table just in front of you. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, making sure you still had your charger in the pack, before you set up your earbuds and your music.
Your eyes flickered over to the British man, not saying anything as you opened your preferred playlist. He briefly glanced back at you and sent a rather cheeky smile before he looked back to the man in front of him.
"Fuckin' hell, mate," Lemon said as he looked at his brother. The man had made him move just so he could have an eye on the American who bumped into him. "Go and talk to ‘em, yeah? Leave me out of it."
Tangerine rolled his eyes. "Fuck off," he said. "We gotta job, yeah? Speakin' of." He stopped and looked towards the White Death's son, blinking slowly for a moment. "You gonna tell us much else or are you keepin' us in the dark?"
The Son mumbled something under his breath, tiredly looking out the window. He didn't know why he was here, other than the two brothers saying they were hired by his dad to get him to safety.
Right. Safety. What a joke.
"Right, so," Tangerine began. "Our job is to keep you safe and to recover the briefcase with the ransom money inside. And I plan on completin' my job and keeping..."
Tangerine looked at his brother, narrowing his eyes. "Lemon."
Lemon looked up at him. "Hmm?"
"Where's the briefcase?"
"Oh, I stashed it."
Tangerine stared at him in admonishment for a bit longer than necessary. "The case, Lemon. Go get me the fucking case."
"We got his son. That was our job."
"Our job was to come back with his son and his 10 million." Tangerine groaned softly and looked out of the window, sucking in a breath. "Three words describe our situation right now. Do you know what they are?"
"Sure do," said Lemon. He held up a hand and counted them off as he spoke: "Saved his son."
"Motherfucker," Tangerine blurted. He went on his spiel about the White Death, which seemed to be quite imperative as Lemon hadn't read the email he forwarded to him. Of course he hadn't—when did he ever? Why did he bother?
"He asked for pros who wouldn't fuck up," Tangerine said. "Three words, Lemon. We are..."
"Fucked." They say the words together, and if it had been another time, perhaps just hours prior, it would have been fun. Not this time. No, this time, they knew they were in deep shit.
They needed to get that suitcase and quick.
They returned to the Son only for him to be... well, let's put it frankly, bleeding from his eye-sockets and mouth, and so very dead.
"Well, shit," Tangerine sucked in a breath as he looked at the boy who had called him a liability only moments earlier.
The two trained assassins set to work on making it look like he was merely sleeping, even going as far as giving him Momonga glasses. You never know.
Tangerine looked at Lemon, frowning deeply. "We need t' find that briefcase," he said.
"Right," Lemon returned, staring at the Son for a moment before he looked up at Tangerine, nodding. "Right. Phone's on me. See if that American you ran into saw anything. Never know, yeah?"
Tangerine narrowed his eyes and glanced over his shoulder, seeing the object of his curiosity. "Hm. Go, Lemon. You see the case, deal with whoever has it."
"All right, how do I do that? Talk to him, or, like, talk to him?"
"I don't know, why don't you tell him about the story about how Gordon met Percy and how Percy's now bleeding from his fucking eye sockets!"
Lemon scoffed and left his side, going down the opposite side of the train.
"He means kill him. Of course he does."
Tangerine took one last look to the boy before he made his way to you, just a few seats down. He saw that you were asleep—surely, if you had been awake, you would've said something, right? Right. He's assuming, anyway. He keeps walking, knowing that he's got to find this briefcase and fast or else he and Lemon may not get a chance to even think about which arm they'd rather have cut off.
About twenty minutes into your restless nap, there's a loud noise blaring in your earbuds, and you jolt awake, grabbing onto your phone. You paused it, heart pounding in your chest.
"Damn," you cursed, knowing it was only from the song and nothing more. This song was notorious for loud noises. You take out your earbuds, a soft groan escaping you. Might as well stretch your legs and use the restroom since you're awake. It didn't seem like sleep was going to come easy on this train.
A voice came over the intercom, saying something about stopping momentarily, but you didn't catch the name of the station.
You stood and stretched, looking towards where the British man had been. He's not there, and neither is his one friend, but the other is there, sleeping. He's got the strangest glasses on, but you say nothing of it.
"Bathroom," you mutter under your breath, looking over your shoulder. You see a sign and follow it, taking your phone with you just in case.
You're quick, doing your business and washing your hands all under two minutes. Must be a record—the airplane bathrooms are so much more different than this.
You go to leave and open the door, and once again, you're not paying attention. You nearly bump into the tall, handsome British man, but this time, he is paying attention.
He grabbed you by the shoulders, a soft huff escaping him. "Watch yourself, love," he said, a playful smile on his lips (like he's not currently in one of the most stressful situations he's ever been in). "You're gonna get yourself hurt, now, aren't ya?"
Wide eyed, you looked up at him. "Shit, I'm sorry," you said. "It's—hell, I can't even give you a good excuse, but I didn't mean to."
"Nah, you're alright, love, just watch yourself for me, yeah?"
He let go of your shoulders, and you almost find yourself missing the touch.
"Go back to your seat, yeah? Keep an eye out for anyone weird for me."
You blinked slowly but nodded anyway. "Yeah, sure," you said. "You—"
But before you can continue, he sees something in the corner of his eye—either that or he hears something. You're not really sure. He flashes you a soft smile before he walked past you, clearly on a mission.
You let out a soft sigh and walk back to your seat, sitting down quietly.
As you get there, the British man's friend is back, and with another man—you don't catch their conversation, but whatever it is is rather heated. You simply put your earbuds back in and let your head fall back, unable to stop your eyes from fluttering shut. There's a few noises, but the sleep is far too good to come out of. At least, for now it is.
At some point, you feel someone shaking you awake. You quickly open your eyes, seeing the British man sitting across from you. He's got a few cuts on his face—not something he had before. You sat up and check your phone, eyebrows furrowed.
"What are you—"
You'd only been asleep for another twenty minutes.
"You're cute, love," he said, grabbing your phone from you.
"Hey—"
He held up a finger to you and quickly typed in a text message to his own phone. When he heard the buzz, he handed your phone back to you.
"Where's your stop, hm?"
"Nagoya," you answered. "Why?"
"Get off sooner, yeah?"
"What?"
He gave you a cheeky smile. "Get off sooner, love," he said. "Conductor must've missed you cuz you were sleepin', but he was sayin' that everyone needs to get off before Nagoya. Somethin' about the train needed worked on."
You blinked slowly. Were you still sleeping? You felt like you were. "Why the hell would they do that for? That don't even make sense—"
"Love, do it," he said, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. "Get off on the next stop, yeah? I'll even give you the money for another ticket or somethin' if you need it."
You shook your head. "I can get another ticket, I just—"
There was something about the man that screamed danger, but no where did it scream liar. At least if he was a liar, maybe it was for good reason. Your gut feeling had been pretty good in the past, warning you against several things that could've gone terribly. Perhaps this was the Universe screaming at you to listen to it.
"Okay. I got the money. I'll just... I'll get off at the next stop."
He smiled softly at you. "Good. I'll be seein' you then, yeah? Keep yourself outta trouble."
He stood up, giving you a soft wink, before he left you in the quiet car.
You didn't see him again for the rest of the train ride, but you did listen to him. You got off at the next train stop and bought a new ticket, wondering if the cuts on his face had anything to do with his request.
It was a pretty nice warning, as crazy as that shit was.
Waiting for the next train, which would be there only momentarily, you pull out your phone. The only thing he had typed to his number was simple: Tangerine.
Was that codename for something? The fuck did fruit have to do with anything?
Nagoya, Japan.
A beautiful city with equally beautiful architecture (you'd be sure to visit the castle and the shrine after you finished exploring the city on your own terms).
You hadn't gotten a text from the handsome British man, but it didn't really bother you much. You didn't know him—just nearly ran into him a handful of times before he told you to get off the train.
Two days after the train ride to Nagoya, you find yourself on the streets, following your phone's GPS as best as you could to get to the castle. You should have just waved down a taxi cab, but you also wanted to experience the walk. That, in itself, was just as important as the journey over. Besides, your phone said only five minutes, but it seemed like it was re-routing and doing the exact opposite of being an accurate GPS.
You curse under your breath and go to type in another address in an attempt to see if it was just the castle address that was making your GPS wonky when you heard a familiar voice—you felt a familiar hand grab onto your shoulder.
"Be careful, love," the British man said, keeping you in your spot. You looked up—you're not even about to walk into anything, this time. You looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed.
"Oh, hell," you blurted, wide eyed. "What the hell happened to you? Are you—" You pause, mouth gaped open as you look on in surprise. His friend, and that one long haired blonde guy, stand nearby. The one leaned up against the wall of a supermarket, while the other runs a hand through his blonde locks.
You looked up at him, lips parted. "Is that why you told me to get off the train?"
He gave you a pained smile. "Smart, love," he said.
There's a few people that pass by, mumbling about the sight of the rather bloodied and injured men.
"Shit," you said. "You—did you just come to Nagoya in hopes I'd still be here? What if I had been in Kyoto?"
"Guess some luck's on my side, then," he said.
"My—hell, come on, I've got a hotel room," you said. "You lot look like you've been to hell and back."
"Somethin' like that," the British man said.
"Shit," you mumbled once more, putting your hotel name back into your GPS. You had just come from there, but just in case, you didn't want to mess anything up. Especially not now. "Shit, dude, I don't even know your name—"
"Tangerine," he interrupted.
You blinked slowly as you began to walk. His friends follow behind.
"Like the fruit?" you question.
His friend snorted from behind the two of you. "Yeah, love, like the fruit."
You shrugged. "Codename?"
"Smart," Tangerine repeated, giving you a cheeky smile.
For someone who looked like he was in an immense amount of pain, he was sure cheerful.
You led them up to your hotel room, where the blonde immediately goes to the bathroom, running water in the sink and using it and a towel to try and clean some of the blood from his face.
Tangerine and the other, whom you now know as Lemon, sit on separate sides of the room—Lemon sits at the table and groans at the action, a hand on his side, while Tangerine sits on the edge of the bed.
There goes your plans to see the Nagoya Castle, but hell, this didn't seem like it would be anything you'd wanna miss out on. How often do you get three men in your hotel room like this?
Ah, fuck, scratch that—how often do you get a hot British man looking at you like that regardless of how beat up he currently looked?
You bit your lip and sit your phone on the dresser. "I, uh, my friend gave me a little kit of medicine and things before I left," you said, going to your open suitcase and pulling out a black bag. "Has like, bandaids and ibuprofen. Tums, maybe. I didn't even look to be honest."
You hand the bag to him.
Tangerine snorted softly, taking the bag from you and opening it up. You watch, seeing the scabs on his knuckles.
"Damn, what the hell happened to y'all?"
Tangerine glanced up at you, a small smile quirking on his lips. "All in due time," he said. "Don't think it's anything I wanna drag you into just yet."
You pursed your lips.
"Fuck," Tangerine mumbled. "This whole thing has been fuckin' bullocks," he said as he pulled out a couple of things from the kit.
"You can say that again," Lemon said, scoffing softly.
Tangerine tossed him a bottle of pain killers before he, himself, picked up a small bottle of antiseptic. "Be a doll and grab me a washcloth, yeah?"
You do as you're asked, moving past the blonde in the bathroom. He looked a bit worse for wear, but he seemed like he was doing far better than the other two.
You brought back the washcloth for Tangerine. "Can I help?"
"Nah, love, I'll be fine. Not the first time."
You grimaced. "Sounds painful."
"C'est la vie," Lemon said from where he sat, taking the unopened complementary water from the table and using it to take the pain killers. "You're a life saver, love."
"Hmm," you hummed, frowning softly as you looked at Tangerine.
He glanced up at you as he cleaned his knuckles. He had plenty of other places to clean, of course, but the idea of moving from his spot on the bed sounded like hell. His abdomen was screaming at him for just breathing.
"I never got your name," Tangerine softly said.
"Yeah," Lemon interjected. "Been callin' you his little American this whole time. Don't let him lie to you."
Tangerine blanched, glaring over at Lemon, before he looked up at you. "Maybe," he said. "Don't listen to him. He's a little shit-stirrer."
You smiled a bit. He's endearing if not... unconventional in his methods. Whatever that meant. You'd learn soon enough, it seemed.
You gave him your name.
He repeated it, and it was almost like heaven pouring from his lips as he spoke.
God, you'd have a hell of a time trying to explain this back home.
Tangerine snorted softly and finished cleaning up his knuckles—just on the one hand, though. He still had so much to get through.
"Must've made quite an impression if you come to Nagoya just to find me," you blurted, taking the bottle of antiseptic and the cloth from him. He didn't protest. He simply watched as you wet the other side of the cloth and took his hand in your own to clean his knuckles.
"Yeah, well, what can I say? The accent got me."
You blinked slowly, eyes flickering to his. "The accent?"
"Oh, yeah, love," he said. "Ladybug in there is an American, but you? It's like a whole other breed of American. I don't know if I can get enough of it."
Lemon scoffed and tossed the bottle of painkillers to his brother. "Stop flirting and let them clean your hand."
Tangerine rolled his eyes, watching your hands as they moved against his wounds.
"Sorry," you mumbled.
"Sorry? For what?"
"For not having anything to really help you," you said. "I'm sure it woulda helped if I had a first aid kit or somethin'."
He raised an eyebrow. "Think you would've been insane for havin' a first aid kit when you're traveling all alone," he said. "Who woulda thought you'd run into little ol' me?"
"Little ol' you, hm?"
Tangerine's soft smile is unmistakable, but you make no mention of it. You let go of his hand and he examined it, letting out a soft hum. You did well enough, he supposed.
Tangerine let out a soft groan as a pain rippled through his abdomen. He laid back on the bed without another word, a hand resting on his body. This would be a hell of a pain to heal, but he was sure it would happen soon enough.
"Sorry for barging in on you like that, love," Lemon spoke up. He drew your attention away from Tangerine. "Tangerine over there kept quippin' on and on 'bout how he just had to see you again. Thought he was a broken record or some shit with how often he said it."
The handsome man in front of you didn't even object this time. He just went with it.
"Right, yeah, and what were you sayin'? Hope they have a nice hotel room that fits all us, yeah?"
"Absolutely not," he scoffed. "Don't be a prick."
Tangerine rolled his eyes. "Lemon—"
"—anyway," Lemon interjected. "We'll be out of your hair as soon as we possibly can. Don't want to outstay our welcome, and I'm sure you've got plans, hm?"
"Well, yeah, but—"
"—we won't stay long, promise."
"No, I—I mean I do have plans, but you can stay as long as you need to."
Tangerine snorted softly and glanced at you from where he laid on his bed. "You're rather trusting, aren't you?"
You blinked slowly. "Well—"
"—be careful, love," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "You should really watch yourself, before you get yourself into trouble."
You parted your lips, and the words escaped you before you even thought to stop them: "Think I'm a bit too late for all that."
#tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine bullet train#gn!reader#reader insert#x reader#fanfic#aaron taylor johnson#aarontaylorjohnson#tangerine bullet train x reader#bullet train#bullet train 2022#bullet train tangerine#bullet train movie#southern!reader
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miserable (you & me) | h. jisung <3
a/n: jisung unlocks a part of me that is deeply emotional and romantic like ...... i love and cherish him so much :-( i really got in my feels with this one, and i hope you enjoy a glimpse into what i think being loved by jisung is like <3 also yes i gave him my favorite lyric of the song as a treat because his lyrics pull me apart and put me back together every time :,-) pics not mine~
content: angst, happy ending | wc: 1.3k | warnings: none really! | pairing: jisung x gn!reader | requests:open
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
“i don’t wanna lose a part of me, you are my heart, you know?”
jisung couldn’t believe he was living out an overplayed scene in every book, movie, song, and tv show ever created. maybe some clichés were just universal experiences. if that were true, staring out blankly at flashing lights on the tarmac after the plane touches the ground must be a rite of passage for every modern human. his body barely registered the number of hours suspended in the air, as his mind only focused on one thing: you. if asked about the music he listened to during the flight, he wouldn’t know how to answer. truthfully, he didn’t listen to anything other than the internal chant of your name mixed with alternate beats of i’m sorry and i wish i said so sooner.
jisung barely survived the past few weeks. existing with love and heartbreak in one body simultaneously sounds made-up, but that was jisung’s reality after he walked away that night. a reality he created and regretted more than anything.
it was classic. both of you were stressed from too many things going wrong in your lives, and the agitation bled into your conversations and actions. even your facial expressions were tinged with negative emotions not meant for each other. then, as it so often happened, one wrong sentence ruined everything.
you knew jisung didn’t mean it when he said “if you’re so unhappy every time you see me, then why do you keep inviting me over?”
but he said it, and you heard it, and it hurt.
though jisung’s face fell at the sound of his words, all you could think to say was, “i think you should go. you have an early flight tomorrow.”
jisung stood there, mouth open, waiting for words–the right ones–to come out of his mouth. the silence hung in the air for too long. he saw your eyes glistening with tears, and he didn’t want his presence to be the reason the tears fell. again, out of exhaustion and fear of a fight, he said the wrong thing.
“okay, i’ll go.”
jisung’s heart broke when all you replied was, “safe travels.”
neither of you made a promise to see each other after jisung returned. both of you assumed you would see each other as soon as he was back, but both of you feared that the other person wouldn’t want to reunite. somehow words unsaid weighed on both of you more than the misspoken ones. but it felt too late. neither of you knew if continuing the conversation tonight was right, so neither of you said anything. jisung’s plane took him away the next morning, and you couldn’t find the courage to close the distance between you two any time soon.
that fear hung over jisung for the entire trip. it ate him up inside, yet he didn’t have the courage to face it. for weeks, he felt frozen. then, perhaps from the adrenaline of finally being in the same city as you again, he found the courage.
as soon as he unlocked his front door, jisung threw his bag on the floor, and, without a second thought, he turned on his heel and rushed to your place. he didn’t care if he had to wait at your doorstep all night and well into the morning. jisung could not, would not rest until he apologized to your face. you deserved that. if his words were what hurt you, then you deserved a million more kind words from him until you were healed.
his heart was about to burst out of his chest during the seconds between his knock on your door and you pulling it open. you were so beautiful to jisung, and your beauty became more profound when he saw you again. he felt he could cry looking at you in your doorway. even he hadn’t realized how deeply he had missed you until you were within arms’ reach.
everything had felt so far away for so long, but, with you, finally, jisung felt connected to everything around him. he felt like he could breathe for the first time when he heard your soft hello. he felt the world start spinning again when you said his name. he felt his heartbeat return to his chest, replacing the dull ache that had filled it since he turned his back to you that night.
“i’m sorry.”
a small, instinctive smile flickered on your face at the sound of his voice, “come inside.”
jisung nodded, shaking from the desire to spill his heart out to you. thankfully, you sensed this, and you gave him the space to make things right again.
“i’m so, so sorry, y/n. i know i shouldn’t have left that night like that, and i know i should’ve apologized sooner. there are so many things to say to you, and you don’t owe it to me to listen. i just need you to know i’m sorry and i regret what i said and did that night. you didn’t deserve that.”
jisung paused. he held your gaze, eyes very clearly filling with tears. he waited for your permission to continue speaking, which you gave with a nod. he blinked, took a deep breath, and filled himself with equal parts courage and love for you.
“i also regret not saying anything, anything at all, sooner. i got in my head. i was so scared that saying ‘i’m sorry’ over text wasn’t enough, and i felt it was unfair to talk like normal when things clearly weren’t normal. i needed you to know how sorry i am. then, as the days passed, i realized a phone call wouldn’t be enough either. well, that, and i was so scared you wouldn’t answer my call. i would’ve deserved it, but a rejected phone call somehow felt more painful than a prolonged silence, so i didn’t call. i’m a coward, i know, and i am sorry for that too. that’s why i’m here.”
jisung paused again, wiping his tears before gently holding your hands in his own, “you can kick me out as soon as i say my last word. i won’t fight you on it. i hate that i hurt you right before getting on the flight. i missed you so much that i lost my mind. i never want to feel that lost again. i never want to lose you. so i’m sorry. i will do everything you need me to, just so i can make things right again. you are my everything, and you deserve more than everything i can give you.”
tears fell from your eyes this time, which made jisung cry even more. the way you looked at him as you took in his apology gave him hope. he raised his hands to wipe your tears and then cradled your face softly. you were enveloped in his love and the relief that, despite the mistakes, he chose to come back to you. he kept his promise to choose you every time. that was more than enough proof that his apology was real.
your hands covered his, and you smiled despite sniffling, “i forgive you, jisung. thank you for apologizing, and thank you for coming here tonight.”
jisung felt as though he could sob and shout from the rooftops in joy. you forgave him. he hadn’t lost you. his heart would be complete again.
“thank you, y/n. that means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
a comfortable, tender silence washed over you in your living room. you held each other, cherishing the distance disappearing. this was how things were meant to be. this was what you and jisung would always work for, no matter what got in the way, because the shared space between you was the strongest center of gravity you knew.
once all of the tears dried, jisung smiled brightly and confessed, “i really missed you so much. you are my heart, you know?”
familiar butterflies filled your stomach in response to jisung’s sweet, romantic words, “i missed you too, jisung. i’m so happy to have you back. more than you’ll ever know.”
the way jisung smiled at you made you think that maybe, just maybe, he knew exactly how happy you were.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
#han x reader#jisung x reader#han jisung x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids angst#skz angst#han angst#jisung angst#han jisung angst#stray kids blurbs#skz blurbs#stray kids han#stray kids jisung#stray kids han jisung#skz han#skz jisung#skz han jisung#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#han imagines#jisung imagines#han jisung imagines#sweetkpopmusings
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Victor's Main Route: Chapter 20
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He had guided me to the church at the center of our memories. And just like the day we first met, he sat down beside me. But unlike that day, we were both grown up, and I was no longer crying. And as if to prevent us from ever parting again, I clutched his hands tightly. I turned my body to face him, and waited for him to speak while looking into his eyes. After a short silence, he opened his mouth.
Victor: When we first met, I had just ascended to the throne as the queen. Victor: Hiding my gender and ruling as queen had been more flight of fancy than a well-thought out plan. Victor: But after learning that I was cursed, and that I was doomed by my fate, I chose that option. Victor: Choosing to rule as a woman was a more difficult road than ruling as a man, but gender didn’t matter to me. Victor: Perhaps I just wanted to prove that I could fight against the odds, and take control of my destiny. Victor: But although I had made that decision, my heart still had doubts. Victor: I did not want to discard my life as ‘Victor’. Victor: I questioned what I should do, what the best course of action was. Victor: My head knew the answer, but my heart hadn’t yet come to terms with it. Victor: As my anxiety and internal conflict grew, one day, I snuck out of the palace and visited a church. Victor: And there, I met you. Victor: That first day, I saw that you were praying while in tears, and I worried about you. Victor: One of the citizens that I must protect was crying, and such a young child, too. Victor: I called out to you to try and get you to stop crying somehow, but you only ended up crying even more.
Kate: …It was your kindness and how you listened to me talk that made me keep crying. Kate: The more I remembered my cat, the sadder I became and the more I cried.
Victor: I was in quite a panic. I’d never dealt with a crying child before. Victor: …And after the music from my music box calmed you down, you listened to my troubles, and said this: Victor: “I think it’s okay if you let someone help you with your problem. And if no one can help, then I will.” Victor: Your words held no ulterior motive. Just pure-hearted innocence. Victor: I think that all my life, I’d been waiting for someone to tell me exactly that. Victor: I could do nothing but fight on alone, hiding my identity, bearing the burden of my curse, without anyone to rely on. Victor: So your words were the last push I needed. Victor: I would leave ‘Victor’ behind, live as the queen, and die.
My words at the time were a healing balm for Victor’s doubts and worries. But at the same time, they were the catalyst for Victor abandoning his life as a person. I was left speechless.
(I was the one who pushed him into giving up his chance to be happy.)
They had been the careless words of a child that he’d only met once. I felt my heart squeeze painfully, realizing that I had caused my beloved so much heartache.
I’m sorry.
If I hadn’t said that…
I’m glad my words could help you, but… (+2/+4)
Kate: I’m glad my words could help you, but…
Victor: Don’t make that face. You saved me, and that is fact.
Victor: Because of what you said, I could muster the strength to face forward and keep going.
His hand stroked my cheek gently, and I lifted my gaze to look at him. He let out a soft laugh when he saw my sorrowful expression.
Victor: A monarch is a being akin to a bird with clipped wings. No matter the price they must pay, the country’s prosperity is their only aim. Victor: Though I knew that would be the case, I remained conflicted, unable or unwilling to fully give myself up. Victor: That’s why I’m so very glad that you gave me the strength to push forward. To create a world where you could smile, and freely take to the skies. Victor: That was enough for me.
The pad of his thumb brushed the skin beneath my eye, and I subconsciously shut them. At the same time, Victor’s fingers stopped moving.
Victor: At least, until we next met. Victor: Shortly after that first meeting, I had gotten used to my duties, and was able to carve out some personal time for myself. Victor: I would walk the streets of London, see with my own eyes the peaceful lives of the people and the smiles that brightened their faces. Victor: When remnants of my irrationality still tugged at my heart, I would go back to that church. Victor: Every time I visited I would look for you, but never saw you. It disappointed and relieved me in equal amounts. Victor: If you had come back to that church, perhaps it would be because you had reason to cry again. Victor: And life continued just like that, until a few years ago. Victor: And I found you again, a second time. Victor: We had apprehended the masterminds of the bombing incidents by then. Victor: But those that remained of that organization were still defiant, and continued to target crowded locations in order to strike at the queen. Victor: I didn’t think the church would be a target, given their modus operandi up until that point. Victor: But just in case, William and I paid a visit to the church. Victor: I saw you playing with the children that day, and I instantly recognized that you were the girl who saved me. Victor: I wanted to tell you to leave immediately as there was a chance you would be in danger. However… Victor: At that exact moment, the world exploded and went dark. Victor: When I next opened my eyes, it was as though I were witnessing a scene right out of hell. Victor: I heard gunshots, and then saw the members of that organization appear. But I couldn’t fight back. Victor: Because I saw you, shielding a child with your body, unable to move.
Kate: !
Victor: At that moment, I couldn’t think of anything else, except for that if you lived and everyone else here died… Victor: That would be enough.
Kate: Victor…
Victor: To save your life, I pulled you out of the church. Victor: I only noticed that the cylinder of my music box fell out and was destroyed after everything was already over.
Kate: Back then, you went back after rescuing me.
Victor: To sentence the criminals. Victor: As queen, I made the choice to condemn evil for the sake of the country. Victor: If I had just been ‘Victor’, I would have taken your hand and fled to the ends of the earth until you were safe. Victor: But I couldn’t do that. I was the country’s ruler.
The way his laugh sounded so self-mocking hurt my heart.
Victor: Ever since then, I wanted to know how you were doing. So I watched you secretly.
Kate: …You what!?
I shouted in surprise, while he just smiled wryly.
Victor: It wasn’t for any nefarious purpose… I was just worried, about whether you were still suffering because of your memories of that day.
His gaze dropped, and strength entered his hand that was placed against my cheek.
Victor: And just as I feared, I discovered that you were traumatized by those events, and feared loud explosion-like sounds.
Victor: You’ll be okay. I’m here.
(So that’s why he knew to cover my ears back then.)
He knew everything, so that was how he was able to help me.
Victor: I couldn’t help but worry, and so it became part of my routine to watch over you from afar. Victor: If you want to call me a stalker, I can’t blame you.
Kate: But because of that, you stopped me from panicking during the recent explosion. Kate: Thank you so much.
(The memory still frightens me a little even now, but…) (Because Victor protected me, I’m okay.)
Victor: The third time I saw you, you were paying for a necklace that a child had stolen.
Kate: Huh…?
Man: You better compensate me for what she stole! You can pay, right!? Kate: Yes, sir, I’ll pay! While I was on a delivery, I came across a man yelling at a girl. When I stepped in to try and resolve the situation, the girl kicked the man and fled. And then I paid back the man for the necklace that the girl had stolen.
And a few hours after that, my life changed forever.
(He saw that…?)
I looked away in embarrassment, but he continued to speak.
Victor: You ran into Will before that, didn’t you?
Kate: Yes, he picked up a letter I had dropped.
Kate: Excuse me, that’s one of my deliveries. ???: … ???: Here you go, miss. Kate: Th-thank you. ???: You’re very welcome.
Only a month had passed since then, but it already felt like an eternity ago.
Victor: After that, Will told me that he met “a little robin with a delightful singing voice.” Victor: It’s rare for people to catch his interest like that, so I couldn’t help but wonder…
Victor: Whether it was you he had met.
As my eyes widened in surprise, he continued.
Victor: So after I returned to the castle, I told him this: Victor: “If you ever see that robin again, I want to meet them.”
Kate: …So… you…
The threads that led to our third meeting were winding together.
Victor: While I was waiting in the castle as Crown set off on their mission that night, I couldn’t stop thinking. Victor: If you appeared before Will once more and thus made your way to me again… Victor: That could surely only be fate at work.
My lips trembled.
Victor: …I have always been watching you. Victor: It was I who ensured we would meet again a third time, Kate.
(We met each other three times.)
The first time had been pure chance. The second time was more than simply a coincidence, but still up to luck. But from the moment I witnessed that night’s condemnation, our third meeting had been inevitable.
(What else could this be but fate?)
Rescuing and being rescued, the robin had unknowingly flown to the castle-bound reaper’s side. Perhaps this connection only existed through a string of coincidences. But I think that everything that unfolded after that first day had been meant to happen. As he wiped away the tears that began to drip down my face, I hugged him tightly. My voice was hoarse when I spoke.
Kate: It is fate. Kate: It’s fate that we met the first day, that you saved me during the explosion, that we’re here now. Kate: That I fell in love with you again. All of it… every last bit…
Victor: …
His arms wrapped around me and pulled me in towards him. My tears fell onto his jacket as he held me. To my eyes, the night was beautiful, mesmerizing.
Kate: If this can’t be called fate, then nothing can.
I love you, I love you, I love you so much my heart might burst. My feelings were so intense that they were impossible to put into words. I was light-headed from their intensity. Because he had arranged our third meeting, our fates were bound together. I couldn’t stop my tears of happiness. Victor’s body was trembling too, not because he was crying, But because he was overcome with the same emotions that I was.
…
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The crescent moon that had peeked in through the shattered stained glass windows was no longer visible, and only stars glimmered in the sky. When I could hold back my tears, I raised my head. Victor gently brushed the reddened corners of my eyes.
Victor: …Queen Victoria is currently targeted by those who wish for the country to become a republic. Victor: I have no issue with abdicating if it would make the country a better place. Victor: But they resort to harming the innocent to accomplish their goals. I cannot allow them to continue. Victor: However, this is not a problem I can solve alone.
He suddenly smiled, taking my face in his hands.
Victor: Kate, I need you.
Kate: Huh?
The words I said to him long ago returned to me. Those words that caused him to give up on his life as a person, but also brought him solace. They transcended time and now found their way to this moment. With no one else to rely on, he looked slightly nervous as he asked:
Victor: Will you help me?
Those words struck me right in the heart. I wiped away the last of my tears. And mustering my best smile, there was no other answer I could give him aside from…
Kate: Yes!
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I LIVE FOR HUMAN EFFECTS IT GENUINELY JUST FEELS LIKE A SITCOM HAHA
humble request to have rung in human effects 🙏 i love rung 🙏
Mental strain - Human effects
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: none, mention of the Ambassador being desirable
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______________
Rung's office is quite a pretty place, decorated with model ships and collective little models. But the vibe of the place for some reason felt as if sitting under an old willow tree, it was familiar and soothing, soft scented oils burn in the background as the Therapist pads down notes from his human patient.
The ambassador lays across the large couch with an arm over their face, head pressed back into a soft pillow as they breathe in the scent of the room. “I just don't know what to do about this, normally Whirl doesn't cause me issues but my God, that mech and Nadia are conspiring with each other I can just feel it” they huff out. Normally the ambassador wouldn't be put off much, but both Nadia and Whirl were hunting for personal information, and seemingly have in their head the they were involved with either, Rodimus, Megatron or Luna Whistler, and it was starting to frustrate them.
‘ “So…. Boss, you and the captain?” Nadia coos as she walks with the Ambassador. It earns the Moroccan woman a glance. “What about the captains?” They asked with a raised eyebrow. “You've been spending an awful amount of time with them” she teases, which Gets a shake of the liaison's head. “Nadia I don't know what gossip you're hunting for” they hum while continuing to walk with her.
“Hey fleshy getting quite up close and personal with the new seeker huh” Whirl chirped, almost making the ambassador prickle with goose bumps from the fight or flight response to the helimech. “Whirl, I don't think I have to remind You about your probation and not causing issues with crewmates?” They shoot back at the mech. The singular optic seems to focus on the ambassador. “Hmmm, touchy, didn't take you as a Xeno” the heli stated before disappearing into thin air.’
Rung listens thoughtfully as the ambassador vents their frustrations, optics crinkling kindly behind spectacles. After long vorns counselling troubled mechs, he had learned humans seemed to have just as much trauma and issues as most mechs did, but he did enjoy these sessions where the ambassador mainly vented about issues, crew gossip or plans.
"Perhaps Whirl and Nadia have struck up an unlikely friendship, though the results tend toward...chaos, but so far it seems rather harmless, especially for Whirl." he hums with a soft smile his face plate leans against his knuckles as his other servo types away, noting things.
"Rung you don't get it, it feels like Nadia thinks I'm sleeping with Megatron or Rodimus and Whirl, I swear Whirl just pops up out of nowhere makes a snarky comment about Luna whistler." They sigh while their head presses back into the pillow. "Rodimus has been grumpy, avoiding me when I'm trying to help him with his work, it seems like the moment we had Luna Whistler join, the crew has become a little standoffish, God I just want a vacation" they mumble.
His optical ridges lift inquiringly. "Oh my, that is quite a predicament." He chuckles while laying his pad down to look them over. His optics flicker away from them before back to his pad. “I had heard rumours of some of the crew being rather interested but I didn't Think it would escalate to this” he hums which earns him a look from the Ambassador.
They raise an eyebrow at the Therapist. “What rumours?” the ask rather worried over the situation. He removes his spectacles, optics crinkling in shared wistfulness.
"My dear it seems you are rather desirable amongst the crew, quite a few are interested in courting you. and it would not surprise me if quite a few have become slightly bitter over a new mech joining and having your attention on him" Rung explains, he wasn't a daft mech, he had been around a very, very long time. And he knew the face of a smitten young mech.
Their eyes go wide, mouth wide open In shock. “But.. but I'm a human!” They state sitting up in utter shock hearing this revelation. Rung's optics soften as he looks at their stunned form. “Oh I'm aware, quite a few of them have been rather vocal over wanting to know how to properly Court a human, quite a few Web forums and sites have come up since the Cybertron and earth alliance.” He informs, not giving away details of who, or what mechs had confided in him about their interest.
His smile takes on a gently mischievous quirk. "As for Nadia and Whirl's meddling, I'm very sure they have become rather invested in figuring out who the lucky mech is, even though it's very clear there isn't one” he chuckles again watching the way their eyes bulge.
They are speechless, stunned. Not knowing how everyone apparently thought they were involved with multiple mechs. “Oh my fucking god” they groan out loudly while slamming their face into the pillow and letting out a noise. After a moment they sit up " I just want everyone would cut Luna a break, mechs trying to become friends with others and fuck he's a nervous one outside of work, he's a sweet mech just wish everyone would stop giving him the stink eye, and now apparently I'm the reason hes getting the stink eye" they press their head into their hands.
The Ambassador looked tired and stressed. "Plus I'm pretty sure he's very smitten with Traxies" Rung lets out a soft vent as he stands walking towards one of the shelves with the model ships, reaching up he withdraws a small bottle from his cabinets, sympathy visible on his features as he walks towards the liaison. "Here, I believe you may be desperately in need of one of these." He slowly hands a slightly larger glass to the human.
Their eyes widen slightly as Rung hands them the glass, "where did you get Vintage Earth Whiskey!" They ask almost in shock as they look over the bottle. Rung's optics gleam behind spectacles as the ambassador regards their unexpected gift.
"I may have a bit of a collection of human and cybertronian liquor. Ships aren't the only thing I collect” he hums lightly before the Ambassador shoots him a look. “Swerve tends to let me know when he gets his servos on collections” he chuckles as he pours himself a glass, “ human Alcohol is fortunate something I happen to indulge in on occasions”
"I should have known Swerve was bootlegging booze" they state with a shake of their head as they take a sip of the whiskey. They both sit there quietly before Rung finally speaks up again.
"In matters of the sparks, a lot of cybertronians are rather taken by you, most likely the easiest way to go about it is to state your not interested in interspecies relationships, let them down easy. It won't be easy but it would most likely be the easiest way to get the rumours and your admirers to back off." His optics glint roguishly behind spectacles.
"Thing is Rung, it never even occurred to me outside of Nadia making jokes of getting it on with a mech" they hum while leaning back into the chair and sipping their drink. “In truth, now I'm just questioning every nice thing the crew does for me, oh God, is Gift giving a thing that indicates Courting!?” They are worried only for Rung to snort and chuckle.
“in some cases but most times it's only after a Conjunxing request has been accepted, im sure who ever you gave something to hasn't seen it as you showing interest, tho there are a few things which count, such as custom paint jobs, upgrades, or weapons” he states, it soothes their worry over the sweets they had gotten for Megatron.
“OK, ok, so hypothetically, If I was interested in a bot, how would I go about asking them if they were interested” they mumble only for Rung's optics to soften as he watches how they stare into their drink. “ Hmm well it very much depends on the Mech you're interested in, and not just personally wise, different frames have different Courting methods. Tanks and Seekers are very different in their approaches, as are Speedster and Haulers.” He takes a sip of his drink before continuing.
“ seekers tend to do Flight dances with one they are interested in, others can become slightly hostile, it really depends on the mech. Tankers are also collectors, most likely if one gives you something they hold very dearly it means they are trying to initiate an interest, most times it will be ammunition. Haulers are a bit of a strange one because it depends on what kinda hauler, because some will take you to a place which you have never seen before because it reminds them of you” he finishes. It makes the Ambassador fidget lightly.
“There are many more I could go on about but sadly I'm not as well versed in all the different frame types conjunxing rituals” he smiles at them before finishing his drink and placing the cup over on his bench, fixing his optics on the human again.
"You know, you're not what I had expected as a therapist, um, thank you, sorry you had to deal with my breakdown and well this” they make hand movements towards themself which makes Rung laugh in amusement. "We all struggle, in our ways. My role is easing that burden, however it works best." A gentle pulse of reassurance.
"Your well-being matters greatly to this crew. It is a privilege to offer aid, whether counsel or distracting company." He stands from his seat walking over to grab their nose empty cup. “ Ah I don't think I'm ready to head back out, how much longer can I stay?” They inquire.
Rung runs a few calculations over time, a light rumble echoes from his chassis. “ I fortunately don't seem to have another patient for the cycle unless Whirl decides to make a visit for themself” he gives them a soft smile.
“Care for another drink?” He offers which earns him a nod from the Ambassador. “Well outside of this small problem you're having with suitors, have you had a chance to enjoy that hobby of yours you were telling Me about last time?”
“Sadly not yet, having been helping Megatron and Ultra Magnus with Rodimus, turns out that speedster isn't the best with writing. I think he has Dyslexia and most likely ADHD, they tend to go hand in hand a lot. Been trying to find ways to help him focus on work” they take the glass and begin sipping it, relaxing back into the chair and pillow. “Just wish Rodimus would stop with the cold shoulder, well I now know why he's giving me a cold shoulder but it makes it easier to work with him when he's not huffy and pouting” they explain.
Rung shakes his helm in amusement. “He will settle, that or I'll have a word with him during his session about workplace duties, have you brought it up with Megatron or Ultra Magnus?” Rung asked next, which earned him a shake of their head.
“no, he's been good with them, really good actually, Megatron's been really good with helping him with reading, and Magnus is a godsend with fixing any errors. I know it's driving him crazy having to redo it but I think he understands the importance of having Rodimus learning” in truth they had been very helpful and supportive with helping Rodimus learning and finding ways to help with the things he found difficult.
“Well I'm glad to hear that they are helping, that reminds me I have to schedule an appointment with Megatron, his spark forbids him ever coming to see me willingly” he grumbles the last part which earns a laugh from the human. They continue chatting with each other for a while. It's only after they both finish a third glass do they say their goodbyes.
“Thank you again Rung, I'll try and see you for my next session in two Luna cycles but don't hold me to that” they joke, Rungs rolls his optics in amusement before putting away the bottle and placing his pad down on his desk. “Anytime my dear, try not to get yourself too worried over everyone, they will settle down eventually, hot oiled mechs are always a little over the top” he chuckles before sending them off with a wave.
Rung slowly sinks back into his seat and he sighs. It looked like a lot more mechs were interested in the ambassador than he had originally anticipated, and after the holoweb forums he had seen he wasn't surprised he just hoped the crew would settle down soon.
_____________
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that’s enough

barça femeni x teen!reader, alexia putellas x fem!reader
request: here
A/N: this is a mess. the plot is like when ur writing an english essay and you let your subconscious mind write it so it ends up splitting into three topics with no context.
TW: throwing up, coarse language
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Last night, I went out again. It isn’t unusual for me and if I get caught it gets me in trouble with Alexia. I’m not even doing anything bad most of the time, just driving around to take the pressure away. What I don’t factor in this time is the fact that we have an early morning session and a late night session. So if hell was a day, this is it.
First, we have a video session discussing tactics. Which is at 7am, then at 6pm we have a field session. Of course when I wasn’t there when Alexia woke up she immediately called me.
“Where are you? Where’s your car and why aren’t you in the house?” She questions clearly annoyed.
“Relax Alexia, I went out on a little drive, I’ll be there for the video session don’t worry.” She’s about to say more but I hang up. I know I won’t hear the end of this but there can’t be too much harm.
Turns out there can be.
I walk inside the room with my mcdonald’s coffee, I’m not the last person there but Alexia is in the room and shoots daggers at me. I shrug my shoulders, moving to sit next to Ingrid.
“Alexia is really mad, what did you do this time?” She asks, looking at me with a slight smirk.
“I went for a drive to clear my mind. I guess it’s illegal to do that now. I got a coffee though.” She wrinkles her face in disgust.
“Out of all the places to get coffee, you choose the worst one? Honestly kid, please find some place better. Staring at that makes me physically sick.” I roll my eyes.
“I was in a hurry and they call it fast food for a reason. Imagine if I was late? I’m already in trouble.” She nods her head in understanding.
“So, any plans for today or are you going to play Hogwarts Legacy all day.”
“I’m going to watch a movie.” I reply.
“The whole day?” She questions confused.
“Well… I never said I was seeing the movie IN Spain.” She sighs pinching the bridge between her nose.
“That’s not a good idea. Why would you do that?”
“Because I hate subtitles and I don’t want the movie to be in Spanish.” I shrug.
“That’s… a good point. If Alexia finds out you’ve left the country again she’s gonna lose it so have fun and make sure not to tell her you told me.” I nod.
“Will do my friend.” I’ve left the country before, one time to Germany where I accidentally met Georgia Stanway and got drunk with her. And the other time was at the UK in which I got into some nasty fights against some sad Arsenal fans. Like yes I was taunting them but no reason to attack me. I won in the end, obviously.
So if Alexia finds out I’ve left again she will be so mad. I focus my attention to the screen in front of us and listen in on what whatever Jona has to say.
- - - - -
After the session, I quickly make my way out of the room and into my car. I’m almost gone but Alexia is right behind me and she bangs on the window. I groan pulling it down.
“Hi Aleeee.”
“Don’t you ‘Hi Ale.’ me. Where have you been and how long? Do not lie to me.” I sigh.
“I went out on a drive around town, it’s so pretty at night, so excuse me if I want to look at it. Now if you must know. I’m on a tight schedule so, may you please move so I can move?” I ask, she reluctantly agrees and steps back allowing me to drive off to the airport.
(this is rlly fast paced but you can imagine whatever movie you want during the time skip)
- - - - -
It’s currently 5pm, I’ve been out all day the flights were only 2 hours and they were cheap. I don’t know why the others think of this stuff. Maybe I’m just Australian though.
I notice my stomach feels off, but it’s probably because I’m dehydrated and haven’t eaten a proper meal all day. Only a large popcorn and 2 packets of skittles.
I arrive at the grounds just in time and walk in with Sandra. I walk over to my area and get changed into the kit, before walking out onto the field with Lucy.
“You alright mate? You’re pale.” She states.
“I’m good, little tired is all.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me but we walk on.
The session is gruelling, high intensity and does not do anything to help what I’m feeling. Alexia has been pushing me harder than anyone else which is annoying and I low-key want to fall to the ground. That would only result in more laps though.
The 1.5 hour session ends, we have dinner which lasts half an hour than another 45 minutes in the gym. Both of which I am not excited for.
I can’t even think of anything when it happens, I feel bile rise up my throat and I just know that I should’ve eaten a proper meal. I make it into the bathroom in the nick of time, spilling my guts into the bowl. Someone is in here holding my tied back hair but I can’t be bothered to find who.
When I finally stop gagging, I flush the toilet and lean against the wall staring in front of me to find Keira.
“You feel any better or do you want to stay here.” She asks, resting her hand on my cheek. I shrug my shoulders as she sighs.
The door opens again and it’s Lucy.
“Oh, there you guys are. What happened?” Lucy turns to Keira.
“I was walking by the bathrooms and heard someone gagging and here she was throwing up.” She nods her head and I go to stand up.
“NO! No, you are not doing that. What if you throw up again? I’m going to get Alexia. Right now.” Lucy says sternly.
“Nooo, get Ingrid instead? Please Lucy.”
“Fine.” She walks out leaving Keira and I alone again.
“Mind telling me what lead to this moment?” I nod, explaining the staying up all night to not eating any proper food.
“That’ll do it. Can’t believe you just got on a flight to London.”
“It’s not even that long, it’s a great way to spend time. It’s like you saying a 45 minute drive is long. That’s how long it takes for me to get to school when I’m in Australia.” She shakes her head.
“Aussies sense of time is so out of whack I’m telling ya!” The door is opened again as Ingrid and Lucy make their way inside.
Ingrid sighs, “What are we going to do with you huh?” I laugh.
“Come on, let’s get you to the medics and then you can go home. I’ll drive your car and before you say anything we will be telling Alexia.” I nod, knowing there’s no escape.
We get to the medical room and Alexia is already there, talking about her knee with one of the physios. She looks over in question, Ingrid pushes me forward while Keira explains everything to the doctor. Who explains for me to eat a proper meal and drink some actual water. Before going to bed to get actual sleep.
Alexia is fuming, muttering many curse words and dragging me out of there. We get our stuff and give my keys to Mapi who nods at the plan of getting my car back home.
- - - - -
We walk through the door and Alexia guides me to the couch.
“I have had enough of this. We need to set some rules ok? You are 16 in a foreign country, you can’t go around to other countries when you fucking feel like it. I don’t care if you didn’t do anything bad but I can’t have you out of this city without me. Got it? As for the night driving, we’ll set a curfew and I expect you to be back by a certain time and you won’t be able to leave until a certain time. I told your parents I’d watch out for you but you are seriously making it hard for me to live up to that.”
“Sorry Ale.” She shakes her head.
“I’m not doing this with you right now. I’m going to make you a proper meal, you will drink 1 litre of water then you are heading straight to bed. No phone, no xbox, nothing until I deem you can be trusted. Am I clear?” I nod, feeling like I was 12 again.
“You might think this is excessive but I care about you. I want you to be safe, I need you to be safe. So please, make it easier for both of us.” Shes pleading now and it makes me feel bad, tears brim at the edge of my eyes and she sits down next to me.
“Amorcita, don’t cry. Por favor.” She rubs my thigh.
“I’m sorry Ale, I didn’t mean to. The night drives just lessen my anxiety about some things, you know. Like therapy.”
“I know, but you can speak to me about it any time if you feel you’re spiraling. Anyone on the team. Don’t do stupid things to get us to notice. Just talk I’m always here.” I sob into her arms, I can feel all the anger she has fade.
“Thanks, this means so much. Again I’m sorry.” She shakes her head.
“Don’t be, but I would like to know why you travelled to England to watch a movie, don’t you hate England?” This has me laughing.
“I mean… I do but in Spain it’s either gonna be in Spanish or have subtitles and I wanted it in English without.” She laughs softly.
“Of course, now how do you feel about Chicken Burgers for dinner? With potato gems.” I nod my head. She gets up and walks into the Kitchen starting to make the food.
Maybe I can start trying, and maybe I am truly cared about more than I thought. This team 🫶.
A/N: I LOVE SICKFICS I HAD TO. if you see any sickfic requested, i probs requested it lol
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso fanfics#barca femeni#barcelona femeni#barca femeni x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader
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So Very Basic- Spencer Reid X Reader
A/N- This may have just been an excuse for me to infodump about Pride and Prejudice but I swear the fic is still good! Reader is also very Autistic coded but I am Autistic so that happens a lot when I write hope you don't mind.
Pronouns- She/her
Tooth-Rooting Fluff
Word Count- 822
Summary- Spencer judging your book tastes on the jet back home.
Spencer and I have made it a habit of sitting next to each other every flight home. We usually talk about the recent books we have finished or are currently reading. Sometimes we just sit in silence and read together. These are my favorite moments in my life I never feel calmer in the jet with Spencer by my side or across from me. This time it felt different though Spencer's eyes have not left me once I swear he hadn't flipped a page of his book.
"Hey Spence, What's your book about?" I say trying to hint at the fact that I can obviously see he has not flipped a single page.
He seemed startled by my sudden question but proceeded to tell me the entire synopsis of his book.
I slam my book shut and shout, "You have read that book already!"
He seemed perplexed by my reaction "There is no rule against rereading books I think authors would prefer you reread their works."
I groan, "There is when you spend the whole flight staring at me distracting me from my book."
Spencer flushes and I am one hundred percent sure I am right now.
"Hotch the children are fighting again!" Rossi shouts like a mother making me shake my head at him.
"Hotch Spence is poking meee," Emily teases in her best Y/N impersonation. JJ of course joins in playing the role of Spencer, "I am not Y/n." She draws out my name.
Spencer and I look as red as two tomatoes and my safe space has turned into an inescapable nightmare.
He leans in and whispers in my ear, "You know this is your fault for picking the most basic Jane Austen novel."
I gasp dramatically which of course just causes more stares from the team.
Derek sighed knowing this Y/n gasp all too well, "Pretty boy what are you doing offending Y/n? Do you want to listen to another one of her defensive rants for thirty minutes?"
"I quite enjoy them," Spencer smiles.
Rossi rolls his eyes, "You would."
I stand up, "Pride and Prejudice is beautiful from its book, it's movie, and it's BBC Special!"
JJ sighs," Here she goes."
"The drama in the book is spectacular as it delves into each sister's feelings about marriage and how at the time it was their only option. Don't even get me started on the twenty-seven with no prospects speech! Oh my goodness Darcy is the perfect match for Elizabeth with them both being so headstrong makes for the best enemies to lovers! Speaking of Darcy in the film when he does that hand-clench thing it was not even in the book! It wasn't even scripted! Which made me feel he was the perfect actor for Darcy he understood the role perfectly!" I ramble out putting my hand on my chest the rest of the team is annoyed at another one of my outbursts but Spencer is looking at me like I am the only person on the plane and I flush when I meet his eyes.
Hotch shouts at me, "L/N would you sit down we are about to go into a patch of turbulence." He of course says this too late and I embarrassingly fall on top of Spencer.
I immediately try to scramble off Spencer but he holds me there. I look away from him trying to hide my flushed face and he asks if I am alright.
"Yup, just mortified but everybody needs a good daily dose of that am I right." I smile trying to play it off but I play with my hair a common tell of mine that everyone in the BAU knows by now.
"You know I have never seen the Pride and Prejudice film," Spencer says slyly.
My eyes light up "You must see it! It's on Netflix I have seen it over a hundred times! I can probably quote all the words by now."
"I actually don't have Netflix I don't really watch television," He rubs the back of his neck.
"That's fine I could totally bring my laptop to you to watch it! Or we could watch it at my apartment!" I ramble out coming off more excited than I meant to.
"That sounds great," Spencer smiles, "Do you really know all the words you could recite some now?" He teases.
I turn the deepest red I think I have ever been in my life and of course, Derek has to jump in.
"Oh pretty boy has moves," he whistles.
Spence rolls his eyes "Shut up Morgan."
"Could we all shut up? Some of us like to rest so we can actually focus on work when we get back." Hotch says in his typical annoyed-with-us voice.
"I guess reciting Pride and Prejudice to you will have to wait," I whisper into Spencer's ear it was finally my time to make him blush.
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Being Stiles Twin | Platonic Stiles Stilinksi x Reader
Some headcanons cuz I was bored😜 this is definitely all over the place and messy but that’s fine, just ignore it👼
Being Stiles’ twin is definitely a unique experience on its own
While you guys are different in many ways, there are times where your similarities really shine through
Since you’ve grown up with this dude, you both share the same sense of humor and sarcasm (something that everyone condemns)
When he makes a comment or joke, you’re probably the only one chuckling at it and vice versa
I feel like since Stiles is on the more extroverted side, reader is probably a bit more mellow compared to him
You usually let him take the lead on most stuff, enjoying just watching him blabber about who knows what
You might be a bit quieter without him but you never really minded much
When you’re with him though, yall are the capital of yap central. Especially if you guys are talking about something you’re both passionate about. Or, more often than not, when you’re arguing with each other
He’s the one always dragging you around everywhere and forcing you to go through his plans with him
This was a problem when you guys were younger since both of you were often caught by your dad💀
Being Stiles’ twin would include listening to similar music, sharing a lot of the same interests and geeking out on it together
It also includes bothering Scott whenever you can
Being childhood friends, Scott can never truly escape the Stilinski twins. If Stiles isn’t with him, you’re usually not too far away. Scott has labeled you both as the angel and devil on his shoulders lmao
Between the both of you, I think the reader would have a more flight response when in the face of danger. Stiles usually charges at things head first, the complete opposite of you
It’s not that your any more smarter than him, but that you have a higher self preservation than him
Of course if he ever asks (or forces), you would always stay beside your brother during dangerous situations
It’s either fight or flight with yall. Whoever wins rock paper scissors gets to make the choice💀💀
Moving on, I think maybe sometimes you feel a little less important to the group as compared to Stiles since you view him as more valuable to them.
He’s definitely more knowledgeable and smarter when thinking like the ‘bad guys’
Just a little insecurity you’ll never tell anyone😜
You both are y’all’s ride or dies
Without a doubt if one of you does something stupid, the other will 100% follow in suite
You both might even jump to the same idea and conclusion at the same time when having to make some decision or something
It usually doesn’t end well but at least you guys did it together💆
Even if you guys do dumb things together and by chance get separated, you both worry about each other a lot
Like the first thing Stiles will ask if he sees anyone after some hectic chase is if they know where you are
Being twins, you’ll always have top priority to each other. It’s nothing personal, but if yall had to choose between each other or someone else, after a bit of hesitation the choice will be obvious
Let’s move onto some lighthearted headcanons now👼
You both argue who gets to drive the jeep💀
Yall are forced to share the car, so this problem is usually settled with DUN DUUNNN
Rock paper scissors LMAO
You tend to steal Stiles’ sweater a lot, and despite how smart he is, you always manage to gaslight him into thinking it was yours to begin with
Little do you know he DOES know that ur lying to him, he just takes them back when ur not home, and then the cycle repeats itself
Despite you guys sharing similar interests, it’s always going to be a smidge different
Like it would fall under the same category but for some reason, yall can’t get into each others interests as ironic as it sounds
You guys have this creepy twin telepathy that Scott hates. You both will just randomly starting speaking singing at the same exact time, saying the exact same thing and not even bat an eye
He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re always around each other or if there’s some divine force behind it, but Scott will always side eye you guys whenever it happens
He loves you both but he just finds it freaky that you both know what the other is thinking at the same time. It’s cool but freaky regardless
You both are very close to each other, so when what happens in season three happens, it really damages your bond.
You both grow apart but that’s a post for another day😇
#teen wolf x reader#platonic stiles stilinski x reader#platonic teen wolf#platonic teen wolf x reader#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles teen wolf#teen wolf stiles#stiles stilinksi imagine#platonic#x reader#teen wolf#stiles stilinski
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I'm so thankful to find your blog especially since your Kalego fics are so awesome. Will it be possible to ask for a Kalego x Humanf reader something along the lines of something happening to the reader and Kalego needing to protect this weak and fragile human. I'm so sorry if you don't take requests! Also if you are busy then take as much time as you want! no rush whatsoever :) Thank yooouuuuuu
You knew it would happen sooner or later. You were surrounded by so many powerful demons, one of them definitely had to know that you were a human! And yet you were hoping that Balam or Dali would call you for a "serious conversation", but definitely not someone who can eat you up and not even choke!
You were shivering, but not from the wind and cold, even though you were on one of the school's open balconies. You couldn't even escape, because there is free air space on the side and back, and in front was your possible nightmare. Yes, if you were a demon, you would have been flying in the opposite direction from where Kalego was standing. But you're not a demon. You are a human being.
You ended up in the demon world on purpose. Even though you didn't think that ritual would work, you didn't say no when the demon Sullivan appeared and asked you to go with him. It looked like his grandson needed company.
In any case, no one is interested in the story of your entry into the demon world. It is much more important that you are ready to choose between your colleague and the infinitely fast flight of a stone down... the second.
You had a... strange relationship with Kalego. First you were afraid of him, then you respected him, then you were afraid of him again, then you admired him, then you were afraid of him… In short, he was the demon you couldn't help but be afraid of. He was strong, and he knew it. He did not hide behind smiles and playful phrases. He was serious and ready to jump into a fight if something happened.
This may have attracted you. Despite the rather cold attitude at first, Kalego was ready to teach you how to be a good teacher. He patiently explained everything you needed to know. It was even cute if you listened carefully, memorized everything the first time, and didn't ask stupid questions. And you didn't do it.
You even started to have some common interests with him! You were interested in absolutely everything in Hell, even the cute little cacti that Kalego grew. When the demon brought small potted flowers and proudly said they were "the little children of his primary child," you asked sheepishly if you could take one. Naberius looked at you for a long time, and then gave you a long lecture on how to take care of plants, and made you promise to take care of the cactus.
But at the same time, you couldn't get rid of the feeling of fear that blooms in you every few weeks. Perhaps if you were a demon like him, you wouldn't be so afraid. But you were human, so just the thought that he could tear you to pieces in a second made you mentally scream and cry.
Besides, the problem was that you were very weak. Weaker than the average person. You won't even be able to escape from it!
W-what are my last wishes?.. I c-can't even think about it…
You were shaking, feeling that you were about to die not from the demon's claws, but from a heart attack. Your face paled, and you all shrank like raisins. If you were asked whether you want to be on the training ground now or stay here, you would choose the former.
Kalego silently looked you over with his heavy gaze, and you swallowed. F-for now... peace. And I just thought that my life was finally getting better!..
You screamed so loudly when something heavy landed on you that you could even shout above the wind. You squeezed your eyes shut, ready to attack, but suddenly realized that the heavy object wasn't a weapon, Cerberion's claws, or a demon's hand. Was it... soft and fluffy?
You looked down and stared at your own shoulders, where an expensive-looking fur cape rested. You were opening your mouth to say something when suddenly the hood was thrown over your head and all the buttons were fastened, making it impossible for you to move.
He wants to steal me and eat me somewhere else!
You jumped up and down, but suddenly Kalego put his hands on your shoulders and forced you to turn around to face him. His eyes never softened or showed positive emotions, so there was no miracle this time either!
You felt heavy breathing on your face and knew that this was the end!..
–W-wait! – you screamed with all your might, feeling that you were starting to cough. You seem to have a cold. But what's the difference? You'll be eaten anyway! – B–before you do that, l-let me leave a last note! And, p-please bite me right in the carotid artery so that I die as soon as possible!..
Kalego suddenly tensed up, and you screamed in your head. M-I will be killed slowly and painfully!..
–What have you done, (Y/N), if I have to kill you? Did you fill out the paperwork incorrectly?!
–N-no, I did al-ll the reports right! I ev-ven double-checked them several times!
–That's great. So why should I kill you? Especially if I stick my fangs in your neck.
–B-because I'm human?..
It was... a mistake. You knew that as soon as you looked into the demon's eyes. They reflected a shock that seemed to break Naberius.
While Kalego was frozen in place and couldn't move, you quickly escaped from his grip and ran as fast as you could towards the exit. More precisely, you jumped, because the cape strongly constrained your movements. It wasn't that small, but it was heavy enough that you would have some difficulty moving around.
You somehow managed to open the door and ran out into the corridor. You threw off your clothes and ran towards the office belonging to Balam, but before you could run even one-eighth of the way, you sat down on the floor with incredible shortness of breath.
You've always been a weak person, and while looking for ways to heal your body, you decided to summon a demon... yes, it's a strange way to solve the problem, but let's not talk about it. Sullivan has agreed to help you, but only if you look after his "grandson" and keep an eye on some of the personalities at school. Well, you've kept your end of the bargain. All your major illnesses were cured, but you were still far from the physical state of a "standard person".
So you failed. Kalego literally caught up with you at a leisurely pace. You could hear his footsteps and feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn't want to cry, but you still sobbed in the middle of an empty hallway, as all the students had already gone home or were working in clubs.
You stare at the floor, watching the small drops fall on the wooden surface. Kalego didn't like crybabies, so you didn't want him to get angry before eating you.
When the demon stopped next to you, you wanted to ask him to do everything quickly, but you couldn't even get that out of yourself. You were ready to die, but suddenly Naberius picked you up in his arms, and you were almost in a second in one of the rooms in Royal One.
He threw you on the sofa, objects flew around the room. A minute passed, during which you were afraid to move, and then a cup of hot tea landed on the table in front of you, from which black steam was emitted.
Kalego landed in the chair across from you, and you might have thought he didn't hear what you said, but it was absolutely clear from the look on your face that he heard every part of your mistake.
–What are you doing? – he barked, and you almost fell off the couch. – You should drink your tea while it's hot. Do you want to get sick?! I've had enough of that time when you were lying in bed for two weeks after five minutes of standing on the street!
You sat down and touched the cup with trembling hands. A pleasant smell enveloped your nostrils and you swallowed.
The demon continued to stare at you with a hard stare.
–So... you're human?
–Y-you don't know? – you were shaking in a panic when he stared into your eyes. – I t-thought you knew! I t-thought you called me here to tell me I could dig my own grave with my own hands!
–I wanted to tell you I loved you!
–Wh-what?!
–What? – he looked at you not like a man in love, but like... your future homicidal maniac. – I needed to act quickly. Some of my colleagues, – he ground his teeth, – wanted to do it before I did. Of course, I would have preferred to invite you to a restaurant with good music and high-end food... but I didn't have the time. But it doesn't matter anyway, – his eye twitched as he looked at you. – (Y/N), you want to tell me that you're not just a weak demon, but a weak human, so the probability of you dying increases?! And yet you're constantly taking on a burden that some of my idiotic colleagues can't handle?!
You drank your tea in a hurry and hoped it was poison. There was a long lecture waiting for you, at the end of which you had to kiss Kalego so that he would stop scolding you, and after such an unexpected action on your part, you also fainted…
*+*
–What? Did she go into the woods? Alone?! – Kalego dug his fingernails into the table, leaving long footprints.
–I don't think it's such a big deal, – Shichiro shrugged. – Plus, she's with Iruma-kun and his friends. I think they're being protected by the Demon King, – Balan snorted. – So it's unlikely anything will happen to them.
–They may be protected by the Demon King, – Kalego began to speak and started walking towards the tent's exit, – but that doesn't mean he's protecting (Y/N)!
Naberius went outside and breathed in the fresh air. It's been a long time since he found out you were human. Kalego proved that his feelings were real, so he couldn't let his love do any hard work or risk herself. He'd rather die than break his promises... at least that kind of promise.
At the moment, the demons were in a "wilderness survival" class that lasted for several days. The camp was set up a long time ago, but the students had long since dispersed and explored nature. They could only return to the main camp if they were seriously injured or unable to handle the situation on their own.
"But they did something similar during Harvest Festival!" Well, that's true, but then they were in a controlled forest where there was a lot of food and relatively predators. Right now, they were surrounded by completely wild nature and quite strong monsters.
Even though the territory was still under the control of the demon teachers, the forest wasn't under their control. And so Kalego couldn't let you get hurt, much less die. You were weak even relative to other people. You wouldn't survive as a demon here for a day!
Naberius looked around the campsite, at the teachers who were giving advice to students who came to ask for help or receive medical treatment. Kalego froze for a second, and then Cerberion appeared next to him. The dog knew your scent very well (after spending a lot of time with you, it's impossible to forget that), so it instantly led its owner along the right route.…
Initially, you were just planning to take a walk with Iruma and his friends. Photos... more photos! Sullivan might not be able to attend these classes, but he wanted to see everything. So you were forced to work as a cameraman/photographer/babysitter and something else. But you didn't complain. At least it was all so funny and fun!..
And then you're suddenly lost and left in the middle of the forest with nothing but a camera…
You shivered as a light breeze brushed your skin. You were never a strong person... which is why you summoned a demon to help fix your health. Unfortunately, Sullivan didn't know how to do this completely, but he could show you the wonderful world of magic! You couldn't refuse!
If you knew there were so many dangers here, maybe you wouldn't have agreed… On the other hand, if you didn't go here, you wouldn't have met Kalego! So it wouldn't be so bad…
–Apchee!
You sighed and looked at the snot that was running out of your nose. Lowering the camera, you took out a napkin and quickly blew your nose. You could get sick from any little thing, which is why Kalego sometimes looked like an overprotective mom, and not like your partner.
You look around for Iruma and his friends. You were distracted by some bright berries, and the energetic children ran far away from you. You coughed a couple of times, feeling a slight sore throat. You opened your mouth to call out to them... but you definitely called out to the wrong person instead…
You sensed someone's presence and turned around. You turned your head... and saw a huge monster that clearly wanted to taste human flesh!
You swallowed and tightened your grip on the napkin. You tried to use the defensive artifact that Kalego gave you... but something told you that it would be better and safer to start running!
And so you did. You turned around, dropped your napkin, and ran as fast as you could from the monster that was already drooling. Remembering your PE lessons at school, you used all your strength to escape from danger as quickly as possible…
Except that you were still a weak, pathetic person, and your opponent was a huge monster that had more eyes than you had hair on your head, so you definitely wouldn't be able to run away from it. Even if you weren't... human.
Your breathing quickly faltered, your legs began to give out, and you almost fell several times. Cold air filled your lungs, causing you to cough more frequently, drawing the monster's attention. You could feel your heart beating fast somewhere near your temples. It took time to use the protection... you wouldn't have had time!..
The ground behind you shuddered, and you fell... straight into familiar hands. Turning your head slightly, you looked at the ground split in two. The monster growled and tried to get closer, but a single snap of his fingers caused it to bend under the Cerberion's claws.
You watched as the creature that tried to kill you... was destroyed by a huge amount of magic.
You were about to apologize for foolishly putting yourself in danger when Kalego pulled you closer to him and frowned. You could feel his entire body tense up. In the next second, he turned around and used magic, the lightning hit the monster that jumped out of nowhere.
–Looks like they have a better sense of smell than demons, – Kalego smiled wryly as he looked at the monsters. – They were able to smell the wonderful smell of human flesh... – you trembled at the words. – But I'll have to disappoint them, – the demon held out a hand, and the Cerberion opened all three of its mouths. – Because it belongs only to me!
The sounds of battle filled your ears. Roars, screams, more screams... you could hear Cerberion moving from side to side, lightning piercing the air... The unpleasant smell filled a small part of the forest, but Kalego pressed your face closer to him, so soon you stopped feeling anything with your nose.
The battle wasn't long. It just couldn't be that long. Naberius wouldn't let some pathetic monsters defeat him. Kalego leaned over and looked at you, and you heard a soft, relieved sigh. He gently lifted your head, holding your chin with two fingers…
–Where's your brain gone?
You felt your cheeks being squeezed hard by two fingers. You tried to get out of the demon's grip, but it was useless. Kalego put one hand on his belt, the other he continued to hold your face. You waved your arms, trying to get free, but it was all useless.
Naberius sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked at you, still trying to wriggle out of his grip, and then finally let go. You shouldn't have gone far. Kalego draped his warm cloak over you and then held you so close that you could hear the sound of his heartbeat.
In his arms, you finally feel the warmth you've been dreaming of for so long. Your light cloak definitely didn't save you from the coolness of the forest. It was safe and comfortable in his hands. You would give anything to continue to be embraced by this demon. And so that he does not go far away from you, you hugged him back, hugging his tall figure with your hands as much as possible.
He was a strong, high-ranked demon. You were a simple, weak person. Perhaps in another world, he and you were never meant to meet. But here and now, you and he are together... and both of you were fine with it.
You froze, feeling something approaching. No, not a monster or anything like that. You tried to restrain yourself... and then still coughed awkwardly into his clothes several times. Naberius lowered his head and looked at you with a sad look.
–What can I do with you? – he sighed and gently stroked your cheeks, which had suffered from his grip. – You're so weak that sometimes I'm afraid you'll sneeze too hard and damage your lungs.
–Then you just need to hold me close and keep me warm and safe, – you pressed your cheek deeper into his clothes and hugged him tighter. – Um... we agreed, right?..
–Well, that sounds better than anything this school has to offer me, – Kalego chuckled and patted you on the head. – Wait…
You coughed nervously to the side and at the same time felt what the demon felt a few moments earlier. You had a fever. How you got sick so easily was still a mystery to you, but you've learned in your entire life that it's not something to be trifled with.
Kalego sighed and pressed his cool hands to your burning face. He wrapped you more tightly in his cloak before sitting down and nodding at his back. You carefully climbed on top of him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed yourself against his neck and exhaled... and then abruptly pursed your lips and muttered an apology, trying to open your mouth as little as possible.
–Relax, my weak human, – Kalego chuckled, getting up and starting to carry you on his back. – I won't get sick for such a stupid little thing. I'm not you.
–T-thank you... Kalego… So think about it, was it sarcasm or, ahem, no…
–You're capable of sarcasm in any state, so I'll leave that question unanswered…
You wanted to giggle, but froze in horror when another monster came out from behind the bushes and opened its mouth to devour you and Kalego. You were ready to jump off its back and hit the ground so that the demon would have a chance to fight…
–I am out of time!
Naberius raised his hand... and slapped the creature's face with all his strength! And while the monster stared at Kalego in shock, the demon silently passed by as if nothing was happening. When the monster tried to attack again, Naberius just looked at it... and the creature decided to get as far away from here as possible before it ended up just like the "relatives" of it.
You turned around and looked at the monster… You turned around and hugged Kalego tighter, snuggled up to him and inhaled his scent... while you still could. You started to feel worse and worse. It looks like while everyone else is running around and having fun, you'll be lying in bed... as usual.
Fortunately, you always have a demon to take care of you. Kalego was always there for you when you were sick or feeling unwell... and he will always be there for you no matter what happens to you. And you'll be there for him, too... well, just like that. Not that you can give the great demon anything but yourself…
Although... what else did Kalego need from you other than yourself?
Post-credits scene.
–You're still sick, aren't you? – you giggled at the demon.
–Please just shut up and give me the medicine.
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flower shop confessions.
kim woonhak x reader
another woonhak love confession story 😭 im sorry im just really obsessed w the idea of woonhak telling his crush he likes her and it cld go so many ways and i feel like i HAVE to put all my ideas out there TT ALSO this is rlly ass cause im still on my trip and didnt bring my laptop so pls pls excuse the spelling mistakes / grammatical errors 💔 i just REALLY needed to write this 😭😭 okay lowercase intended, pls enjoy <3
wc: 1,531
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listen to 1980s horror film by wallows while reading...!
he didn't know what it was. maybe it was the way she said his name, the way each syllable ran smoothly out of her mouth. perhaps it was the concern on her face when his clumsy self tripped over his own shoelaces, and the constant nagging and scolding she'd give him afterwards. it could be just…her in general. the way her hair fell down below her shoulders, how she wore her clothes in such a way so she wouldn't look as short as she really was. whatever it was, kim woonhak was completely and utterly, ridiculously in love with her...with yn ln.
yet he was absolutely oblivious.
sure he knew he felt something, why else would his heart beat faster when she was nearby? why on earth would his ears perk up upon hearing her name? even worse when he hears her voice. but the idiot was nothing more than a child, an immature little prick who couldn’t quite grasp the concept of being in love. these feelings confused him, there was no way he could understand them himself, he needed some help.
“what’s up, kid?”
myung jaehyun. arguably the best person to ask for advice from, and historically the worst! but hey, you live and you learn; not with jaehyun though, there is not a single thought in his head. “hyung i need your help, i was gonna ask taesan hyung but i figured he’d make fun of me…” he spoke naturally, not an ion of nervousness in his voice, but this was before he started to think about her again. “it’s yn, yn ln” he began, heart beating faster already. jae nodded his head slightly, allowing the younger boy to continue.
“i don’t know how i feel about her. i don’t think i like her like that, but whenever she’s around i just get so nervous and my whole body gets on this fight or flight mode. she makes me so…breathless? yeah, it’s like she physically stabbed me in the gut and stole all of my organs. i don’t get it, i used to be able to talk to her so easily but nowadays i just…can’t? not without panicking inside and stuttering. she’s ruining my cool guy persona!!! what do i do!?”
the senior boy let out a chuckle, finding the junior’s rant and obvious infatuation for the girl a little bit hysterical. woonhak was even more lost now, lifting an eyebrow up in utter confusion when his friend finally calmed himself down. “look kid, it’s obvious you have feelings for her. and it’s okay to not know what that feeling is. just go with your gut on this, and if you’re still unsure…give it a couple days and when you’re really desperate, tell her. tell her all the things you told me. i can’t guarantee you any great outcome, but maybe it’ll help” the younger boy nodded, bidding the myung guy goodbye before leaving the highschool’s library and deciding to get some fresh air on his walk home.
about halfway through his walk he felt a wave of goosebumps wash over his skin; it was odd considering the fact that the weather was exceptionally warmer today, not to mention the boy wore his school’s varsity jacket. what in the world could have caused this? and that’s when she saw her.
he sighed, the yellow-ish tint of the pretty fairy lights that combed the roof of the flower shop on the street illuminated against her skin. her hair had seemingly grown a little longer overnight, he’d know, for he remembered rather clearly that it hadn’t reached her collarbones the way it did today the day before. it was nearly six pm, but the girl still wore the star academy uniform, a white button-up with the red and blue skirt with her black sweater layered on top. she worked at the rose-scented shop after her lessons right after school three times a week, and today just so happened to be one of those days…
she was pretty, he has always thought so. ever since they bumped into each other at school one day, and coincidentally she moved into the same neighbourhood as him the next week. he had talked to her before, in fact, they were rather close. it was only recently he had been feeling different, just the mere sight of her sent grumbly butterflies to overflow his stomach. even when she did the most mundane things, like tie up her hair or take pictures of the pretty sunset, or like right now; helping some old lady pick the perfect flowers for a large bouquet…yn ln made kim woonhak’s heart melt into pieces.
he didn’t know how he got there, he must’ve been too deep in his thoughts to notice that his feet had taken him into the flower shop. the ding of the bell atop the door shook him out of his trance, and alerted the female worker. his friend, but as of right now he wanted her to be something more. “woonhak! just got back from dance practice? i hear the team has a competition at the end of the month” yn was cheerful as she rearranged some of the lavender that was left on her counter from her last customer. “mhmm, practice is going really good, heard you’re doing the decoration and costume for us?” his sentence came out breathier than usual, it was the unconscious worry that he’d say something wrong. she nodded before she began to silently sing along to the songs that shuffled from her playlist.
~ she was only seventeen, oh why are girls in songs always seventeen? ~
“is there anything i could help you with?” she asked, 1980s horror film by wallows blasting out of the vintage speaker she bought at a thrift store the other day. “yeah um, i thought, while i’m here, i should be a good child and get my mom some flowers. but if i’m honest, i don’t know what to get” he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head while she mirrored his movement; except she actually had an itch on her neck. “hmm, well your mom seems like a young soul who’s got a big heart. so i’d go with the poppies, lilies and ranunculus. they symbolise youth, innocence, grace and…what was it? oh! and joy”
she looked so passionate when she spoke, and after he had agreed with her choices, kim began to stare. not in a creepy way, of course. rather, he was enchanted by her focus; her tongue stuck out as she arranged the flowers, and he noticed her little huffs in annoyance when the loose strands of hair fell against her face. she looked so…in her element and all the boy could think was…’shit, she’s perfect’
~ she was from a movie scene, and now she plays in my head all day ~
“alright, here you go!” yn smiled brightly, handing the boy the bouquet and the pennies of change. “ah, thank you so much!” he mimicked her grin, heart-eyes all too obvious as he retrieved the flowers from her grasp. “anything else i could help you with?” she asked finally, tilting her head slightly as she did so. now was his chance, he’d have to play it smooth…it was now or never, kim woonhak had to confess.
he thought about his next move as if he were playing a game of chess. the advice he had gotten from jaehyun earlier retrograded in his mind. then he remembered where he stood, and i don’t mean that as in mentally, i mean physically; in a flower shop. just perfect.
“yeah, so basically i’m in love with this girl, and i wanted to know if there was a flower to say…eternal love? or you know, something of that sense” smooth one woonhak, smooth. there was a slight frown that casted upon the girl’s face, but before he could ask her what was wrong, she had straightened herself out and began helping him out. “yes! um- red roses, they’re a classic for this…here, i just un-thorned this one” her voice came out quieter, juxtaposing the way she usually was. instead of worrying him, her reaction gave him a slight bit of hope. he grabbed the single rose from her, thanking her before he pretended to leave. once he was at the foot of the door he turned on his heels,
"oh!"
he exclaimed, walking back towards her counter when she lifted an eyebrow at him in confusion. “this is for you, actually…so um, call me?” and he handed her back the rose, shooting her a crooked smile and quick wink before pacing out of the store to save himself from further embarrassment, just in the case that she didn’t feel the same.
later that evening, when kim woonhak laid on his comfy bed, the one with the tayo the little bus bed sheets he's had for ages, he felt a sickening feeling of nerves racking throughout his body. she still hasn’t called or texted. but all that worry was to be washed away when his phone chimed a familiar sound.
yn (pls love me 💔):
i love you too, woonhak <3 see you at school tomorrow? and thank u for the rose 🌹
...
SCORE!
the end.
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LMAOAOAO this was so random idk 😭 again sorry if this sucks balls im still away n dont have my laptop </3 love u guys tysm for reading. feedback n reblogs r greatly appreciated!! love, kona.
#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor#boynextdoor drabbles#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor x reader#woonhak#woonhak x reader#boynextdoor woonhak#bnd x reader#bnd woonhak#kim woonhak#boynextdoor fanfic
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random sleep headcanon time let's go
when the boys aren't sleeping with Javi's head laying on Kieran's chest (yep, that was me!), they're spooning. Javier is the little spoon. Kieran will never admit it was almost entirely a bid to stop falling off the bed in the middle of the night (they both shift around a lot)
Kieran picked up a bit of Spanish while he was in the army, so when he and Javier are both a little bit sleep deprived and a bit more drunk they're giggling and gossiping about the rest of the gang
Javier is NOT a morning person and it's only when he gets older does he somewhat begin to tolerate them. if only to get more cuddle time with his hubby and see the sunrise splash across Kieran's face
Kieran is a bit of a blanket hog which is fine most of the time bc Javi runs warm and it's only in the winter that it becomes a problem because Javier hates the cold
(slaps roof of car) these bad boys can fit SO many nightmares in them. it's very rare they wake up thrashing and screaming tho. mostly their eyes shoot open and they tense up for a few moments, and many times one has woken up to the other staring at them, checking their pulse. bone-crushing cuddles and tea ensue.
(good ending/modern) have fun getting out of bed in the morning when your cats have found the exact locations and positions to make slipping out of bed impossible without waking someone up. Kieran spends about an extra 10 minutes in bed every morning trying to escape when Javier is wrapped around him, one cat is loafed on his chest, another one is curled up between his legs, and his arm has gone numb under the third. he wouldn't change a thing <3
FALLS TO MY KNEES YOURE SO RIGHT THESE ARE SO CUTE WAAAAHHHH 💔💔💔💔☹️☹️☹️☹️
personally i do believe that they swap back and forth on who’s the big spoon and who’s the little spoon but most of the time javier is indeed the little spoon. mostly because their height difference makes it the most comfortable but also because javi will prop his leg up on kieran like this in his sleep and sometimes it will make him wake up with terrible back pain so to avoid it, kieran gets big spoon privileges

also i think javier would really begin to enjoy being the little spoon after ch4 because while he can’t directly listen to kieran’s heartbeat, he can squeeze in tight and feel it on his back, and combining that with the warmth of kieran’s body and the heat of his breathing on his scalp, it’s just as comforting.
on the spanish note, i’ve been becoming more and more fond of the idea of kieran having a baseline understanding of spanish … at first i was leaning towards him not knowing a lick, just so javi can have language privacy for when he has his dramatic moments, but now it’s almost canon to me that kieran could at the very least navigate himself through a situation in which spanish is the only language the people around him could speak. though i think most of his gossip is going to be spanglish LOL which is even cuter to me 💔 (insert toby fox “toho project” accent changes) javier teaches him more and more words and they get more and more mean girl-y the more “privacy” they have in those conversations. they’re so cute 💔💔💔
“many times one has woken up to the other staring at them, checking their pulse” i have to d*e that makes me SO MISERAVLE BECAUSE YOURE RIGHT especially javier, not only because he’s almost explicitly lost kieran once, but also because he’s literally lived his entire life up until now dedicated to protecting the lives of those he loves (ie; fleeing to america to protect his family, not himself). so of course the first thing he’s going to do when he wakes up in fight or flight is to make sure the reason he is living is still alive. if kieran is still breathing, then javier is too. i can see javier curling up tight with his head on kieran’s chest, letting the rhythm of his heart ground him. kieran wakes up from nightmares cold and alone and he can’t see the world around him. he’ll gasp like he can’t breathe and sit up and pull his knees to his chest and, without fail, javier will reach out to his warmth and touch him- more often than not still in his sleep. it’s usually enough to snap kieran out of the flashback, at least to the point where he can grab javi’s hand and pull it up to his face, where he closes his eyes and treads his partners fingertips along his neck and cheeks to ensure to himself that he’s okay and safe. even if javier wakes up (which, as a man on the run, there’s no way he’d sleep through it), he’ll stay slack, watching kieran’s face slowly soften and his breathing slow enough that he won’t at least pass out. you’re entirely correct that following this, they hold each other tight, make sure they’re both warm as can be, and they’ll make/get some sort of tea or snack for the other. they don’t talk much, maybe a question here or there about a preference for the comfort but otherwise they just do things that remind the other that they’re both still alive enough to love.
THE LAST ONE OOUGGH YOUR EMAKING ME YHINK ABOUT ME AND JJ’S (rip jj my beloved (they’re not dead just inactive)) CENTURIES OLD MODERN JAVIERAN CAT SANCTUARY AU LOL in every life, javieran have cats. i don’t even think kieran can avoid attracting animals, and javier WILL cause a 10 car pileup on the highway if he sees a cat in need of rescuing. anyway, you’re completely right 😭💔 kieran always gets up first, even on the days that javier has work in the morning, so he’s the one who has to peel himself out of bed away from his fluffy, warm cell. he also has to try to shush two of the cats that begin their loud objections to his abhorrent behavior (of getting up to make coffee) so that they don’t wake javier up. he has to hush them all the way out of the room and into the kitchen, there in which the meowing becomes louder, as they’ve now become demands of compensation via food for waking them up so early. pepita, javier’s cat, always stays in bed with him until he wakes up, no matter what she is enticed with.
oh i love them im going to be sick thank you for sharing your thoughts with me they’re always so sweet 😭💔 u and i we’re the soft, fluffy javieran cavalry
#soft and fluffy is my favourite genre … angst is cool and i write it well but i don’t even really like it that much <//3#moss however is the ceo of javieran angst#i could never compete. not that i want to#i like my cowboys DOMESTIC and HAPPY#ohh thank u for always chatting with me it’s always so fun :’] i’m happy that u like the way i write them enough to keep coming back to chat#despite the fact that i ramble for hours and hours (literally) 💔 idk how to shut up#ok i have to get out on the floor again ive been using my break at work for this and its gone over … a bit#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#kieran duffy#javier escuella#javieran#text#image#art#kinda i guess#hero draws sometimes#hero's yelling at folks again#hero more like shakespeare#<- that’s actually my writing tag LMFAO i went thru my posts last night and i was like. damn. i used that tag one time and then used the wro#ng one 100 more. damn.#so i’m gonna try to use it again so i can remember it LOL#ask#galacta-phantasma#hero’s javier#hero’s kieran#hero’s javieran#i miss them so bad ☹️ i hope i can draw when i get home
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A new beginning
Reader x Misha Collins
Warnings: 16+ Sex, fluff, trauma, commitment issues, jealousy, Age difference...
Side note: English isn’t my first language.
Words: 6172
Y/N and Misha became friends after Jensen introduced the two of you at his birthday party. Even though Y/N is a lot younger than Misha, Jensen saw a perfect match between you two. But... will Y/N and Misha feel the same way?
*not my GIF*
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“There he is!” Y/N said smiling while walking up to Jensen with his gift. “Sorry had no time to wrap it. Happy Birthday buddy!” She kissed him on his cheek. “Thank! I’m glad you made it.” He said. “Well, Jack and Karl are here already, somewhere.” “Don’t worry I’ll find them.” She winked at him before leaving him in the hands of the guest who arrived after you.
Y/N was the newest member of “the boys” cast, she plays an old love interest of soldier boy who became a villain after Soldier boy chose Crimson Countess, the type of supe Butcher loves to manipulate to fight for him. The crew and cast made you feel at home right away even though you just started to film. Y/N became quite quickly friends with Jensen and Karl, and of course they found out that Y/N was a supernatural fan growing up. In a couple of months, she would turn 28 but whenever interviewers talked about how Jensen feels working with such a young girl on the show, he always said the same thing. “She is younger, but a very mature person, would even say and old soul.” And that is exactly how she felt, an old soul in a young body. She always had a better connection with people who were a little older.
After a few hours, food and drinks Jensen made his way towards you and the guys. “This must be so surreal for Y/N.” Jack said. You all looked at his with a confused look. ”Didn’t she once admit being a supernatural fan? And all the actors are standing, what, 3 feet away.” Y/N shook her head while smiling and slightly blushing. “Who is your favourite?” Karl decided to at oil to the fire. “Oh no, we are not going down that road!” Y/N said. “Ah come on!” Jensen bumped your shoulder. “Was it Dean?” He asked teasingly. “I think she is more of a Sam girl.” Jack teased. “No, no actually I was a Dean girl.” Y/N admitted “Until season 4.” She looked at Jensen, who thought about that for a second. “CASTIEL!” He said very surprised but seem to like your answer. She smiled shyly.
Later that night Y/N decided to head back to the hotel, she had to take her fight back to LA in the morning. So, she asked Danneel where Jay was before leaving without saying a word. Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder. “Hey buddy I’m heading out. Got a flight tomorrow.” “Oh no, wait one second, I want you to meet someone.” Jensen said while taking her wrist and walking her trough the crowed. And before she could see or say anything she hears Jensen: “Mish! Meet Y/N, Y/N Misha... She really likes you.” He said with a grin wide smile before leaving you standing in front of him with eyes wide open. Looking nervous, like a fangirl at ComiCon meeting her hero. “I eh, hi.” Y/N managed to say giving him a hand. ”Hi...” “This is awkward, isn’t it?” Y/N smiled shyly. “A little... But It’s ok.” He smiled friendly. ”Eh, how do you know Jensen?” “The Boys.” Y/N answered shortly. The two of you started to talk and surprisingly the awkwardness quickly disappeared. But as much as you liked the conversation, that had you staying there for another 90 minutes, you had to get some hours of sleep before getting on the plane.
The next morning
Y/N was sitting at the gate with her hoody and headphones on, listening to music while looking at other people in the airport, sipping her coffee trying to stay awake. That night she didn’t had much sleep thinking about the conversation she had with Misha, he did seem really nice, she could see why he was still friends with Jensen. But most of all Y/N wished she had given him her number. As she was scanning the crowd, she noticed someone familiar, Misha, he was sitting at the same gate as her, sunglasses, coffee and hoodie. Even though they had talked the night before she was nervous to go and talk to him. The voice on the intercom announced that they while start boarding now and Misha got up and quickly moved in line. Y/N could see his broad shoulders, how amazing would it be if they would end up sitting next to each other, but he probably flies first-class she thought.
But to her surprise he didn’t, he sat a couple of rows ahead of her, she had to pass him for going to her seat. Misha recognised her, “Y/N! Hi, what a coincidence!” He got up quickly hugged her before she held back the people behind her. “I know right! Have a good fight!” She said way to enthusiastic. During boarding Misha kept looking back to see where she was seated noticing the seats next to her were empty. Once in the air Y/N started to read a book to make sure she wouldn’t be looking at Misha every two seconds.
Little did she know that he did look at her a few times, hoping she would look at him. But after a while he got up and moved to sit next to her. Y/N was a little surprised, “Would you mind if I sit next to you?” “No! Of course not!” - “So, LA? What are the plans?” He asked casually. “Home, I rent a house there. Just a little break between projects. You?” “For now, home. We’re trying to sell the house, but I live there for now.” Y/N knew he and his wife had split up, she, like all the other fans had read his poems, but she decided not to get into detail about that.
Misha and Y/N started to talk some more. “So, Jensen said you liked me? What did he mean?” Misha asked with an innocent smile. “They asked me who my favourite SPN character was... I said Castiel.” “Aaah, I get it. So, you don’t like me me ... You like Cas me.” he laughed. “Yeah, I’m so terribly sorry.” Y/N joked. Y/N and Misha soon found out that they had a few similar interests, both loved to read, music and art. Y/N painted in her spare time while Misha wrote poetry, one couldn't do what the other did but, admired the art form of the other. Y/N showed him drawings and paintings of her own, While Misha read some of his drafts. The plane seemed to land way to fast, neither of them wanted to end the conversation but when they were safe and sound on the ground and got their luggage, they said goodbye. “Well, I see that my cap is here.” Misha said, “It was nice to talk to you again!” Y/N nodded “Likewise!” Misha hugged her and turned to the taxi driver. “Oh, Misha! Before I forget.” Y/N yelled. “Here is my number.” She wrote it on a small piece of paper she had in her jacket. “If you, I don’t know, want to talk or hang out sometimes, I would like that.”
Misha got in the taxi, thinking whether he should call her, she seemed nice, but he was afraid he would expect more of him than he could offer. Especially now, even though he and Vicky had been separated for a while he wasn’t ready to date. He needed to focus on being a dad, actor and healing his mental wounds.
Y/N noticed Misha’s face when she gave him her number, he looked scared, maybe even a little hurt. She hoped she didn’t offened him by doing so. It was days later when she got a text from him, Y/N thought she wouldn’t hear from him again.
Mish: “Free this afternoon?”
Y/N: “Jup, why?”
Mish:”Lunch? 1 pm?”
Y/N:” Count me in!”
Y/N googled the place he had suggested, and decided to dress casually, but catches herself taking a little more afford in her hair and make-up than she would usually do.
Misha noticed her walking in, long summer dress, sunglasses, matching bag, she smiled when she noticed him. “Hi again.” she said while giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “You look great! I feel underdressed.” Misha said. “Nonsense, by the way this place looks amazing!” Y/N answered looking around. After they both ordered Y/N decided to ask him about his reaction at the airport. ”Misha, maybe it’s not my place or question to ask, and if so, please let me know but, I couldn't help but notice the panic in your eyes when I gave you my number. Did I do something wrong?” Misha let out a breath before answering. “Well, I don’t know how much you know about my personal life. But I am recently divorced, and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Because I am far, far from ready to date.” Y/N nodded very understanding still listening, “And Jensen wanted me to meet you for quit sometime now, I had no idea what he said to you before introducing so, I panicked a little.” “I see, it was never my intention to date you, I just like that we get along.” She smiled.
“Great, because I could use a friend who isn’t connected to my marriage, especially here, closer to home. That’s what happens when you’ve been together since school, your friends become her friends and vice versa.” “I understand and consider me your new friend.” Y/N smiled “But eh, Jay talked about me?” “Yes, days before the party, said you were an amazing woman, who I might like... You know a friend trying to help.” “Is that so...” Y/N got up from her chair, “Let’s send him a thank you for our new friendship texted.” Squatting next to Misha holding your phone to take a selfie. “What are you going to say?” He asked taking a sip of his drink.
“Thanks Jay. Found myself a new friend... No worries won’t replace you... Yet 😉 Xx."
Y/N send the picture to Misha as well.
Once home Misha opened the DM from Y/N and truly looked at it for the first time. He liked that his smile was genuine but couldn’t help to notice that she was a lot younger than he was. What are you worrying about, he thought, you just told her to be friends nothing more.
+ 10 months later
Y/N and Misha grew closer in the near year they known each other now, at first hanging out whenever his kids weren’t with him and when they didn’t have project to work on. Later they met her and started to call her aunty Y/N. And of course, they supported each other.
Misha and Jensen had a convention to go to. Some die-hard fans had noticed Misha hanging out with Y/N in public and seem to have question about that. Both men told the story the way it was. Met each other and became friends. But one fan had a question that lingered in Misha’s mind. “Jensen, you and Y/N have a, let’s call it spicy scene together, what was it like to film something like that, and Misha since you are their friend, have you seen it, and what were your thoughts?”
Jensen answered the question first. Saying filming something like that is always awkward, but that because they became friends, they had their fair share of laughs that day. Misha had to be honest he hadn’t seen the latest season yet. Realising he never talked to Y/N about it, while she seemed up to date with his projects, supporting him, wishing him luck. So, he decided to watch the season at home. Mid-season the scene the fans talked about played, Misha noticed a strange feeling seeing Y/N getting al hot and heavy with Jensen, well he knew it was Soldier boy and her character but still. He felt a knot in his stomach, could it be jealousy? Not a second later he received a text.
Y/N: “Made dinner... way too much... Hungry?”
Mish: “Be there in 20?”
Y/N: ”Perrrrrrfect!”
“I’m sorry, I'm already in my comfy clothes.” She said answering the door in her short shorts and tank top with fluffy slippers. “So, what were you up to today?” Y/N asked while walking Misha to the kitchen. ” Not much, started watching the boys.” He said drawing out her reaction. “Really! What season?” Y/N answered enthusiast - “The last one.” - ”Oooh, you seen me naked yet?” she said teasingly wiggling her brows. - “Actually, the second before you texted.” He admitted laughing at the face she made. Y/N looked dramatic like he just had a kick to the balls. “I am so sorry for that traumatic experience.” - “Yeah, could have giving me a heads up.” he smirked - ”Hey, if you would have told me you were watching it, I might have. Or better would watch it with you just to see your face.” She said smiling turning to the oven to get the last dish out. While she bent over Misha couldn’t help but staring at her curves, feeling busted like a teenager when she turned around.
After dinner Misha helped her with the dishes, “Why did you start to watch the boys?” Y/N asked out of the blue. “Really didn’t think that was your thing.” Looking over her shoulder while Misha placed a dried plate on the clean table. “It isn’t, but I figured, you follow me and compliment me on everything I do. As a friend I could at least watch your work.” Y/N hummed in response. “I appreciate that.” she answered with a little tear in her eye.
Little did Misha know Y/N just had a date that went terrible. Some rude new rising star her age. The first and last thing that came out of his mouth was how much slimmer Y/N seemed in the boys and in pictures. How he thought she could lose weight if she trained with him and that she better not wear high heels, making her taller than him... after that night Y/N really didn’t want to be alone, and could use a familiar face.
“Are you crying?” Misha notice. “It’s nothing.” She answered quickly before turning back to the dishes. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked really worried, “Oh no, really, it’s nothing... I just had a really bad date.” Misha’s heart dropped... “Date? I didn’t know you were dating.” He tried to sound as an interested friend. “Yeah, one of my friends set me up.” She said still cleaning the same dish. “All he did was talking about my weight and height.” Y/N turned to Misha. “I mean, I know I’m taller than the average woman but fat? I worked day and night at the gym before shooting the boys, I weight more then with muscles than now.” Misha felt sorry for her. “Oh honey”, he pulled her in is arms holding one hand on her hair and the other between her shoulders. “You are perfect. And if that boy can’t see it... then you need to find yourself a man who can.”
Y/N looked up at Misha, seeing his worried blue eyes looking at her, like she seen them so many times before, but there was something more to them now. Before she knew it Y/N stood on her toes and kissed his lips, brushing her lips softly over his, when she moved away, Misha’s lips followed hers. Holding his hands on her neck and cheeks, after the kiss he kept his eyes closed a little longer, Y/N waited for his reaction. He opened his eyes, but instead of being relieved Y/N noticed the same panic she saw at the airport. “I’m sorry... I have to go.”
“Misha, wait!” Y/N followed him to the door. “Please, I’m sorry I should have never... But please, I really don’t want to be alone tonight.” She noticed he was thinking about her words without looking at her. “I’m sorry I promise I won’t try and kiss you again. I’m just afraid...” “Why?” He turned around. “I’m afraid if you walk out that door, I might lose my best friend. Please let me prove to you that this doesn’t have to be complicated.” Misha looked at his feet. “Y/N, it’s already complicated, I kissed you back. I wanted to kiss you for so long, I would love nothing more than kissing you every time I’m with you.” - “Why didn’t you?” “You, me... us...The age difference...” He shook his head.
“ Age? That is what’s holding you back? I don’t care about age Mish.”
“Maybe not now, but in 10 or 20 years maybe. I’m not settling for less. I don’t want my kids to go through something like the divorce again.” Y/N was surprised “Neither do I, you think I will settle down for les? Misha soon I’m going to be 30, no husband no family...” But he didn’t let her finish “Family, another thing, I have kids, you want kids of your own, you said that before. I’m too old to have another baby. You want to get married, I’m not sure I want to, again.” - “So, basically you made a decision for me of what I want, without talking to me about it?” Y/N said frustrated and hurt. “Maybe I’m willing to give some things up, or we could find another solution.” “Y/N, I don’t want you to give up anything for me.” He hugged her “I talk to you soon.” And left through the door.
It had been two weeks, Y/N and Misha didn’t meet up or called each other. Y/N had texted him a few times, but his response was short and cold. Her calls stayed unanswered.
Y/N:” Are you still mad at me?”
Mish:”Never was.”
Y/N: ”Can we talk?”
Mish:”No time.”
Y/N: “Mish please, I miss you...”
Jensen saw the texted messages between them, he had noticed Misha being less happy off stage than he was the last couple of months. And whenever there was a question about Y/N he kept his mouth shut. “Dude, I’m serious, pick up your phone and call her!” - “And tell her what? I’m sorry I've been avoiding you?” - “For starters, yes. I don’t get it, you like her, she likes you. You both live in the same town, when you talk about her, we all see the Misha we’ve been missing the months before, during and after your divorce.” Jensen added. “There is more to it than liking each other.” Misha answered his friend. “Like, my kids, the age difference.” Jensen rolled his eyes. “Age difference... Stop pretending she is underaged, Misha she turned 28 last month. Y/N clearly doesn’t care, and your kids love her! Listen, all we want is for you to be happy.” He placed his hand on Misha’s shoulder. “And you are happy when you are with her.” But even then, he shakes his head no, he couldn’t believe Y/N loved him that much.
Y/N’s phone buzzed, like a teenager she ran towards it, a text from Jensen. Y/N sighs while opening the message.
Jay:“I tried to talk to him. He is stubborn.”
Y/N:” You know? What did he say?”
Jay:”He didn’t say much, but I’m not blind, he needs time to see that what he feels isn’t a bad thing.”
Y/N: ”I just what my friend back Jay. If he doesn’t want more that is fine for me.”
Jay:”I'm not giving up yet.”
Y/N: “Thanks Xx.”
Another week radio silent. Y/N had tried to call him a couple of times, but he never answered.
Misha was desperately trying to hold on to the thought that if he stayed away for long enough, she would find someone, fall in love and be happy. Then they could both move on. But Jensen’s words lingered in his mind, and he was right. His kids love Y/N, she made them laugh, played in the garden with them and even took them to the carnival when Misha had to work from home. She took care of him and his kids while he wasn’t his best.
After thinking and doubting he took is phone to call her. But instead, he saw a notification of TMZ first with the headline. “ Y/N Y/L/N/ single no more?” Misha felt his stomach turn, the first thing he saw was a picture of Y/N with Karl walking out of a restaurant, and other one laughing, having a few beers at a pub in London, her face close to his while he was saying something to her. She seemed to have a great time with him. He opened the article to read.
**
Last night Y/N Y/L/N (28) and Karl Urban (51) were spotted having a romantic time in downtown London.
Both actors were spotted at a restaurant and later in a pub having a few drinks clearly enjoying each other's company. An inside source told us that the young actress is enjoying her single life even though she is ready to settle down with the right man.
In her latest interview Y/N told LAD bible she didn’t care about age, is this her way of proving her words? Maybe she was referring to Karl all along!
The actress clearly likes her man slightly older, let us not forget she has been seen often with Misha Collins (49) in LA, although they confirmed their relationship to be strictly friendship, Urban and Y/L/N haven’t confirmed nor denied the rumours yet. But the chemistry between the two is inevitable, as you can see in the interview with both actors down below.
**
Misha closed his phone, feeling bad, he thought seeing her moving on would make it easier for him to let her go. But instead, he felt awful.
And to top it all off, Karl posted a week later a recap of the press tour they did, on Instagram. Misha scrolled through the pictures stopping when he saw one were Y/N and Karl were holding each other in a side hug, and another one, were Karl stood behind her, he had his arm around her neck, Y/N sticking her tongue out, they lifted their middle finger and winked at the camera. With the caption Love this city – Y/N had reacted ... Love these people.
When he clicked on to her page, she had also posted pictures with the cast. And another one with Karl, laughing extremely hard a little blurry and the “good picture” were they posed on the red carpet in front of the boys logo, with the caption: No one will ever be as entertained by us as us with a little red heart. Karl’s comment: Admit it... Life would be boring without me. Misha noticed all the reactions from fans how much they loved her, how cute they were. It was too much to see.
Y/N got back to LA, really glad she decided to go on press tour, she told Karl about what happened, and as a good friend he made sure she forgot about Misha every now and then. But once home her feelings came running back, she got tired of him ignoring her, if he really didn’t want to see or hear her again, he at least has to have the balls to tell her in her face. Today she had a quiet day, she took her car and drove up to Misha’s house, he wasn’t home, but she had time. Y/N waited at the front door, she could see his car parked outside on the driveway, so he wasn’t far away.
Misha returned all sweaty from his run, being surprised when he saw Y/N sitting on the steps. “What are you doing here?” He asked out of breath. “Well, seems like my best friend is hiding from me, though I come and find him.” She answered trying to sound happy. “I don’t think I’m the one hiding things.” He said walking inside. “What do you mean?” Y/N followed. “Checked TMZ yet?” He asked while handing her his phone with the article. “Seriously Mish? Is that why you have been avoiding me? First off, Karl is a friend, a good one trying to lift me up when you were acting all weird.” Y/N said, “And second how could I have been able to explain this or keep you up to date if you don’t answer your phone?! And since when do you believe TMZ?”
“I am so sorry Y/N, I feel like an idiot.” Misha said when he saw that Y/N’s reaction was honest, “Well, you should.” Y/N answered trying not to smile. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” He didn’t answer that question. “I’m sweaty, that’s what I am. And in about 15 minutes will West and Maison be here from school, and I still haven't showered or prepared food yet.” Y/N nodded. “Go take a shower, I’ll prepare a snack for them.” She took the towel slapping his ass with it playfully.
After the shower Misha came down in his sweatpants and t-shirt, hearing his kids arrive, they were thrilled to see her again. “Your dad is taking a shower, are pancakes ok?” Of course, he didn’t think they would say no to that! “So how was your day?” Y/N asked not noticing Misha was looking at them in the kitchen. Maison wanted to help Y/N, while West was telling her about his day. Like a pro Y/N multitasked her way through baking, listening and watching Maison not getting burned. It felt like a dream to him. Maybe she does belong here with us.
After a while Y/N noticed Misha watching, she winked at him which brought him back to earth. “Pancakes?” She asked while he greeted his kids who were already sitting at the table. After dinner Y/N helped with the dishes while the kids were doing their homework. “Well, I better get going.” She said while folding the towel. Before Misha could change his mind, he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you for today, I’m glad we talked.” Y/N wrapped her arms around him, answering his affection. “Thanks for listening to me.” Misha let go “You know, you don’t have to leave.” Y/N looked at him not fully understanding what he meant. “The kids need to get to bed soon, but maybe, if you like, we can watch a movie together like old times?” “I would love that.”
All four of them watched a show the kids loved to watch, and even though Maison wanted to act like a big grown girl around her father, she asked Y/N to cuddle on the couch. Misha noticed how his little girl placed her head on Y/N’s lap while she moved her fingers through Maison’s hair and still be focussed on the screen. Misha didn’t want to move his kids, but it was way past bedtime. “Come on guys, time to go to bed.” With a little whining they left, West gave Y/N a good night hug before following his dad up the stairs. “Good night, buddy.” He heard her say.
“Dad, I like it when Y/N is here.” West told him while he tucked him in. “She makes you happy. Misha smiled at his son not knowing how to react. Before he went down, he dropped by his daughter's room. “All set? Ready to go to bed?” She hummed agreeing. He kissed her good night and went down trying not to rush himself. “Oh, great your back.” Y/N said while walking out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of popcorn. “What movie were you thinking about?” “Comedy?” he asked her approval before taking his seat next to her. “Great!”
While watching the movie Misha noticed Y/N curling up against him and shiver. “Cold?” he asked her, “Yeah, actually a little.” “Wait.” he paused the movie “Let me grab a blanked.” throwing it over them. Not long after he noticed Y/N’s head lowering on his shoulder, she fell asleep. He moved his arm so that her head would rest on his chest. Y/N woke up startled.” Oh my god Mish, I’m so sorry.” She said embarrassed. “Come here.” He still pulled her in close, kissing the temple of her head, moving his hand over her shoulder and arm. His touch felt good, soft yet strong, but most of all safe. Y/N could hear his heart beating faster, she looked up at him locking eyes with his soft blue gaze. Slowly Misha closed the space between them, holding her cheek with one hand, his lips finding hers. He gave them a soft peck, looking for any hesitation from her. Y/N’s eyes had this little glister in them. She kissed him back with the same softness, she smiled moving a little closer, placing her head back on to his chest, so that they both sat comfortably watching the movie. The last thing she wants was to rush things, scaring Misha away again.
Y/N felt Misha’s hand slip under the blanket, stroking her side and hip, his thumb accidently touching the side of her breast a few times. She looked up at him, it was clearly not his intention, he was still focussed on the tv. But little did he know that those small touches made her burn up. All she wanted was more of his hands over her, kissing those perfect lips. So, to control herself she buried her face a little more in his shirt, letting out a deep breath. Misha noticed her hand clenching the fabric of his shirt, it took him a second to realise what he was doing, so he held his hand still. But hearing her deep breaths turned him more on than he would have thought.
He couldn’t focus anymore, he started to daydream about her moans if he would actually touch her. So, he became a little bolder and stroke the side of her breast again, this time watching her reaction while kissing her head. Y/N looked up again to see his blue eyes darkened this time with lust. He kissed her lips with more passion, his tongue asking permission to enter her mouth. Her tongue following his. And when she pulled back for air, he lifted her on his lap. Her body on his, her knees straddling him but still covered under the warmth of the blanked. His hands moved to her back crawling under her shirt meeting her soft skin.
Her hands lingered on his shoulders, moving one slowly up his neck into his hair, without losing touch of the kisses they shared. Misha’s hand moved down to her bottom, kneading over her jeans making her whimper silently. His lips found their way to her neck, Y/N tilted her head giving him all the space to kiss and softly nip. Misha felt like a teen again, one who was so full of hormones and love drunk making out with his girl in the back of his car. But fully aware he was at home, giving in to the pleasures he wanted to taste all those months ago. And it felt good, even the smallest touch.
Y/N felt his erection growing and even though she was desperately trying not to move to fast, to wait for his lead she couldn’t help but grind against his hips, she wanted more friction. Misha growled against her ear holding her hips, pushing her closer asking her with his touch to do it again. So, she did, Y/N started to move slowly, both could hear their breaths getting heavier, filling the room with soft moans that were silenced with their kisses. Misha’s hands moved up over her thighs to her shirt, pulling it over her head, leaving his hands on her breast, kneading softly. He looked at her through his lashed while he kissed them all over, before his hand undid her bra. He looked at her like a man possessed, his lips and tongue found her hardened nipple, toying her with his other hand still kneading her right breast.
“Oh Mish....” She moaned holding his head, her fingers twisted in his hair. Y/N moved her hand down over his body, moving it in between them, finding his erection palming it over his trainers. Misha let go of her breast while he moaned against her. “Fuck...” He breathed out. Y/N let herself slip in between his legs, pulling his pants and underwear down. Her hands moved back up over his thighs, wrapping her hand around the shaft pumping slow, while her lips left kisses around his pelvis. Making him moan and growl her name, wanting to feel more of her. Y/N first kissed the tip of his dick, tasting his precum on her lips. She slowly lowered her head over him licking the tip. Misha’s breath hitched feeling her warm lips working their way down.
After she made him moan her name more than a few times she got up. Undressed in front of him, she would see the fire in his eyes burn. Knowing that if he wasn’t so turned on, he would feel embarrassed to stare at her, but his eyes took in every inch of her body while taking of his own shirt. Their naked bodies found each other again, Y/N again straddling his hips, but before she could lower herself on him, he stroked his hands between her thighs, feeling her wetness on her upper thigh close to her slit. He hummed delighted to know he cost it. His fingers toying her, making her head fall back, he entered her, first one finger then two slowly pumping, curling to find that one spot that would drive her crazy, she couldn’t help but to move her hips with him in rhythm, making him touch take soft spot inside her. “Oh Misha... although this feels.... Oh, so good... I need... More.” She managed to say between moans and breaths.
Misha let go of her, Y/N grinded against him a few more times, making sure his dick was coated before entering her. He lined himself up against her, locking eyes. He wanted to see her face while he bottomed out. “So beautiful.” He said while watching her expression. Kissing her collarbone while she slowly started to move up and down. She placed her hands behind him on the couch while his hands were guiding her, kneading the flesh of her bottom. Their lips not leaving each other's. The air was filled with moans and the sound of their bodies moving together.
Misha noticed the coil in his stomach building, he turned her around, and placed her on her back. Hovering above her naked body, taking her wrists in his hand moving them above her head. Kissing her neck again before re-entering her soaking core. Y/N could feel his trusts getting harder, stroking along that one spot inside. Not long after she started to tighten around his dick, moaning and whining his name is his ear, trying to keep quiet, unable to hold him close to her. Misha thrusted through her orgasm trying to make it last as long as possible. But he felt his own coming up again faster than anticipated he came inside her with one last thrust.
Misha lifted himself a little, letting go of her wrists, but still hovering over her. Softy and passioned kissing her lips before locking eyes with her. Neither said a word but enjoyed each other’s touch and company. “Mish... as much as I love cuddling with you. I really need to use the bathroom now.” Y/N said a little embarrassed. “Oh yeah sure, you know where it is right?” Y/N got quickly up put on her panties and a shirt to refresh herself, when she came back Misha had already put on his pants. He was folding the blanket. “I was thinking we best head upstairs, the bed lays better.” He said while walking up to her giving Y/N a kiss. She hummed “Well and I don’t want to fall asleep here and getting waked by the kids in the morning... seeing me half naked.” She laughed
Once in bed Misha held Y/N in his arms. “Please tell me you won’t regret this.” Y/N asked him, hoping this was the start of something and not a one-time thing. “I’ve been thinking about you, us for so long now, letting you close to me, was a calculated move.” He kissed her head letting out a chuckle. “But I had no idea it would get so hot and heavy so quick.” They both started laughing trying to stay quiet, not to wake the kids. “But no, I won’t regret this.”
“Good because I’m not planning on letting you run off again.” She said.
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#fanfic#fluff#smut#spn#supernatural#misha collins#spn smut#spnedit#lovers#y/n#x reader#jensen ackles#karl urban#the boys amazon
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