#uhm am I throwing a bit of shade? yeah I am actually

[spineless-lobster]

Damn I wish people knew what “headcanon” meant

“Erm, but actually (insert canonical reason headcanon can’t be true)”

Like that’s great babe but the point of a headcanon is that it doesn’t necessarily have to align with canon, if anything it’s more fun when it goes against it. When did this stop being common fandom knowledge?????

[firey-passion]

Deal Making (Part/Chapter 2)

Shigaraki was going over his corkboard worth of information, he was more specifically going over all the information he currently had on Endeavor. Until suddenly the world goes black and white. Shigaraki looked around quickly, trying to find out what exactly was happening. Did a hero find them and do this? The cause of this quickly revealed himself. 

“Well, it's been a week. When am I actually going to be able to possess your body?” Bill questioned, seeming to be annoyed at how things are going. 

“Oh, hey Bill. Sheesh, warn a guy next time, okay? I was about ready to throw a right hook.” Shigaraki said, leaning against the wall and taking a breath. “Now, when it comes to possessing my body…well, how about right now? I'm honestly just doing busy work; it can put it on hold.” He offered, which seemed to immediately please the demonic triangle. 

“Fantastic!” Bill exclaimed, extending his hand for a handshake. Shigaraki raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m still not really a fan of handshakes.” Shigaraki said teasingly, offering his pinkie in a “pinkie-promise”. Bill didn't complain and accepted the “promise”, pulling Shigaraki out of his body and moving into it. 

Shigaraki looked at himself in this new form. He couldn't help but notice a shade of blue encompassing him, along with the lack of consistent pain. It was actually kinda nice, freeing. Bill, on the other hand, seemed to not be doing well with his side of this agreement. He quickly fell to the ground, gritting his teeth as a way to cope with the immediate all-encompassing pain. 

“What…the hell is this?!?!” Bill asked angrily, Shigaraki noticed that his voice hadn't changed much despite possessing his body (though it did sound as though his throat was a bit sorer). 

“What-” Shigaraki started before stopping, noticing how his voice was suddenly much lower and clear, apparently his body was the cause of his kinda crummy voice, he shook his head and continued on, “What do you mean?”

“Why the HELL can't I use your body properly?!” Bill elaborated, even more pissed that he has to even explain what he meant. 

“Uhm, I don't really know? Might be the chronic pain…” Shigaraki started, somewhat thinking aloud. 

“You have chronic pain?! Why the hell didn't you tell me!?” Bill snapped angrily. 

“I didn't think it would be an issue! I figured that since my body would be used to it by now that you'd be fine.” Shigaraki answered defensively, putting his hands up in a “I surrender” way. 

“Yeah, well, that's clearly not the case now isn't it!!!” Bill continued to snap, causing Shigaraki to roll his eyes. 

“Oh please, it's not that bad. This is just how I feel daily.” Shigaraki said indignantly. 

“Yeah, speaking of, how?!?! This sucks, how the hell could you even get out of bed like this?!” Bill integrated, finally trying to stand up…he wasn't really succeeding. 

“I don't know, I just have been. The pain has kinda faded into the background, for the most part anyway. Some days are worse than others of course but-” Shigaraki started to explain, before being interrupted. 

“THIS COULD BE WORSE!?!?!?!?” Bill practically screeched, causing Shigaraki to cover his ears. 

“Yeah, it could? I haven't even had any recent injuries, not even a stab from Toga.” Shigaraki explained a bit, confused by the reaction. 

“How, the hell, are you alive? How do you even function like this?” Bill asked, finally toning his voice down. 

“I don't know, I just have? I wasn't exactly given many options.” Shigaraki answered bitterly, he always hated those types of questions. He didn't like thinking about how his mind or body worked, all things considered. 

There was a knock on the “door” that got both of their attention. 

“Uh, boss, you okay? Never heard you scream like that before.” Spinner asked on the other side of the door. 

“Uh, y-yeah. I'm fine.” Bill lied, getting an eyebrow raise from Shigaraki. 

“You can't even walk, why would you lie about being okay?” He questioned, a little confused about this decision. 

“Shut. Up.” Bill muttered angrily. 

“I…don't believe you. You don't typically scream unless you have a damn good reason for it. I'm coming in.” Spinner replied, moving the sheet that was acting as a door out of the way. Coming in to see Shigaraki's body on the floor. 

“Uh…why are you on the floor?” Spinner reasonably questioned, very confused. 

“No reason, no reason at all.” Bill muttered bitterly. 

“Is this…is this what's going to happen when Bi- you possess boss's body?” Spinner asked, instantly catching on. 

“What? No, what makes you think I'm possessed?” Bill asked, trying to play it off. Shigaraki got even more confused by this. 

“They, they already know about this part of the agreement. Why are you lying about this?” He questioned. 

“Well for starters,” Spinner started, squatting down to Bill's level, “even on boss’s worst days, he doesn't typically writhe on the floor. He also doesn't have some odd voice echoing effect. And finally, he doesn't have yellow eyes with cat eye slits.” He continued, stating each fact as though it was immovable as the sky itself. Shigaraki couldn't help but laugh at how well Spinner was able to read the situation and how he instantly cornered Bill with all the information. 

“...Okay yeah, it's me. It's Bill.” He conceded, clearly finding that lying would get him absolutely nowhere. 

“Would you like me to pick you up, so you can get to the living area and converse with the other league members?” Spinner offered empathetically. 

“...Yeah, yeah that would be best.” Bill mumbled, really bitter about the situation he's finding himself in. 

Spinner scooped him up into his arms, with Bill instinctively gripping onto his shoulder with the sudden action. 

“Woah, okay! That's something.” Bill said, clearly flummoxed with the situation. 

“Careful!” Shigaraki panicked, focusing on his quirk and what could happen. He was so happy that he was wearing gloves that day. 

“Uh, you good to be moved?” Spinner asked, wanting to make sure that he wouldn't start squirming when he got walking. 

“Yes, I'm fine! Just, not used to being held.” Bill answered, taking a few breaths. 

Spinner went into the living area, with Shigaraki following behind, and set Bill in Shigaraki's body (Billaraki) onto the couch, with Toga having to move to allow this to happen. She went ahead and sat on the table instead, seeming a bit concerned. 

“Is he alright? What happened?” Toga questioned quickly, worried about the situation at hand. 

“He's fine, it's just…well, Bill's possessing his body right now and apparently the chronic pain is really getting to him.” Spinner explained, seeming concerned himself. 

“The pain is enough to get him to collapse like that?” Mr. Compress questioned, seeming confused about how the pain could be this bad. He was currently on the plush chair. 

“Yup, literally collapsed when I possessed this body.” Bill explained, seeming to be rather happy to no longer be on the floor. 

“That's…concerning, to say the least.” Mr. Compress said, “Uhm, on a scale from 1-10 how would you rate your pain?”

“Uh, 7 I guess.” Bill answered, getting an eye roll from Shigaraki. As far as he was concerned it was like, a 3 on most days. “Don't roll your damn eyes at me, your body's shit.” He hissed out, clearly pissed. 

“Can you still see Shigaraki when he, presumably, out of his body?” Kurogiri asked, causing Bill to jump a bit. He wasn't used to Kurogiri's odd ability to just, appear wherever he felt needed. 

“Uh, yeah, I can. He's currently in the mindscape right now, just the realm between the waking and the resting. He's basically a ghost, besides the whole being dead thing.” Bill answered, Shigaraki couldn't help but feel like he was making a few references to things that didn't fully click for him. 

“Honestly, I don't get what your issue is with being in this place. This is great!” Shigaraki said quite happily, floating about as though he didn't have a care in the world. 

“Easy for you to say when your body is absolute trash.” Bill snapped, not appreciating his motives being questioned. 

“Maybe we should start making it a note to try and steal some ibuprofen for the pain?” Mr. Compress suggested, clearly worried about how bad the pain seemed to really be. 

“Wait, hang on, no! Pharmacies have decent security, there's no way we wouldn't be caught quickly!” Shigaraki panicked, not wanting to take unnecessary risks. 

“Yeah, not that great being in the mindscape now is it!” Bill laughed, giving a grin to finally cause some stress here. 

“Let me guess, boss is objecting to us getting him pain meds?” Spinner asked, getting a nod from Bill, “Yeah, that sounds about right for him. He's always so damn stubborn about being fine even when he clearly isn't.”

“Shiggs, listen, if you get pain meds, you'll be able to function better because your body isn't screaming at you.” Toga explained, hoping that Shigaraki would listen to reason. He just mumbled angrily, knowing that Toga was right but still not wanting to take such a massive risk for something that was “unneeded”. 

“Plus, I am one of the best thieves! It'll be fine, we'll get enough to last us long enough that we won't need to return in months.” Mr. Compress reassured. Shigaraki sighed and conceded defeat about this, not like he could communicate his objections right now anyway. 

“In the meantime I'll go ahead and make some tea, in the past it seemed to help. I am unaware if this will work here, but it's worth a try.” Kurogiri stated, heading towards the area that they designated as a “kitchen” (it had a few pots, pans, kettles, and some ingredients for cooking, it had a little device that uses gas to make a controlled fire). 

“Soooooooooo…what's it like possessing someone else's body?” Toga asked, clearly excited. 

“It's…interesting. I tend to get all the downsides of their body and their mind, if that isn't clear with my current condition. Most of the time it is negligible but…well, as you can see, not this damn time.” Bill explained, not going for his typical inflection. Apparently being in pain can suck a lot of energy out of you, who would've thought? 

“Well that's rather neat! Gives us a better idea of how illnesses and disabilities that tie into the mind really works. What's your body count? In possession of cour- well…you can share kill count as well if you want!” Toga asked, keeping the conversation going. 

“Hm, well, that's a rather large count. First there was the shaman, he got antsy when seeing how my pals like to party. Exact order gets fuzzy but there was a pharaoh, someone attached to the Aztecs, the easter island statue people, there was a dark warlock, he actually succeeded in fulfilling his end of the deal, but he did it to trap me in some orb! Sooooo, I possessed his phoenix and burned the castle to the ground for the betrayal! Spent some time around Europe and trying to make deals with Vikings and royals. Wasn't able to succeed often though. I possessed some goats to convince those accused of witchcraft to really have that fun! After all, if they were going to suffer either way, might as well have some fun and really do the thing!” At this, Bill let out a manic laugh, with Toga nodding along. 

“Makes sense. Similar boat really. If everyone was going to see me as a monster, I might as well be one!” She cracked, let out a laugh of her own. 

“Any-who, I went on to make deals with the founding fathers of America. They didn't really like my first draft of their silly constitution. I possessed a corpse for a while and started a cult with that one! Then I moved on to animators, musicians, computer scientists, and a mini sculpture. None of those worked out how I planned, an unfortunate reality with working with humans. There was…Sixer…” Bill became quiet for a bit, staring off before coming back to reality and continued on, “He was quite the subject, really! He was absolutely fascinated with me, and why wouldn't he be? I am incredible!” He said with a confident laugh, while Toga tilted her head to examine that statement mentally. 

“There was Pine Tree, he was desperate to get some information and I offered him a deal! He didn't seem too pleased with how things turned out, I told him I wanted a puppet, it's not my fault he didn't ask which until the deal was made! And finally there's Shigaraki, and here we are. So, while not exactly a count, I don't think I can legitimately count the amount of people I've possessed and bargained with! I can't even list everything going on with my kills, there are just far too many!” Bill finished, seeming rather pleased with this. Spinner looked at him with an eyebrow raise. 

“How long have you been at this whole…murder, thing.” He asked, wishing to know just the amount of experience this demon had. 

“Eh, a thousand years give or take.” Bill said with a hand wave, Shigaraki let out an impressed whistle at that. It was always good to have someone so experienced on your side, until they get too arrogant and you have to kill them. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're old and powerful, great job.” Toga said dismissively, causing Bill to sputter a little bit, “Tell me more about this ‘Sixer’ character.” She said while leaning in, clearly invested in what this meant. 

Shigaraki quickly clocked what Toga was thinking and started wondering about it himself. With everyone else he was content to give a descriptor or an insult and move on to the next person. Whoever Sixer was important enough to Bill to pause and think, he was also the only one that he gave even the slightest hint of a compliment in all this. Just who was this guy and how was he important? 

“Well, what is there to say really? We had a great thing going with our deal! I'd be his muse, his star, his everything, and in return he'd build the portal needed to get me and my henchmaniacs out of the nightmare realm! He was both a genius and an idiot, with only a genius being able to figure out how to get the portal right and only an idiot would fall for all my flattery hook-line-and sinker! He sadly got cold feet when his science buddy saw something he shouldn't have and started trying to get out of fulfilling his end of things. Shame, it could've been great if he wasn't chicken shit.” Bill elaborated, Toga nodding along with a grin on his face. Mr. Compress seemed to catch onto the same thing Toga did halfway through the explanation, with Spinner and Shigaraki being the only ones out of the loop. 

“So, you'd say that you and this ‘Sixer’ had a…special bond with each other?” Mr. Compress asked, leaning in as well. 

“I mean, any bond with me would be special! But yes, I suppose you could call it that.” Bill answered, he seemed to be adjusting to the pain. At least well enough to sit up now and not take up the whole coach. 

Kurogiri came back with the tea and set it down on the table near the Bill possessed body, going to stand by the couch to keep an eye on him. 

“Please do be careful, it is hot.” He said in the polite manner he takes up with everyone, or at least everyone who isn't an enemy. 

Bill took the cup of tea up to the mouth of the body, while normally he'd play the ‘not knowing how the human body worked’ bit but considering the parameters of their deal he figured potentially causing a bunch of panic in these flesh bags for a laugh would not be a wise decision. He found that, surprisingly, the tea actually did make him feel better. How the heck does tea do that? Whatever, it's not important. Dabi entered the room, pulling tinfoil out of his hair and the smell of hair dye filling the room.

“Yo, what's up?” He asked, leaning against the back of the coach. 

“Oh hey Dabi! Bill's currently possessing Shiggy's body and we're talking about his ex!” Toga answered with a giggle, causing Bill to choke on his tea. 

“Careful, rather not have my body expire out of something as silly as surprise.” Shigaraki chuckled, getting the stink eye from Bill. 

“I'm sorry, what?! Sixer is not my ex!” Bill snapped angrily, turning a bit red. It was unclear if it was from lack of breath, embarrassment, or rage. 

“Ohohoh Bill…don't try lying to me.” Toga said, starting off with a chuckle before switching to intimidatingly serious. Bill was rather reasonably stunned by this, it's not every day that someone can even slightly see through him after all. 

“Yeah…Toga's pretty good at reading people, it's kinda useful if not a little creepy.” Shigaraki explained with a shrug. Billaraki set his head in his hands and let out a breath of frustration, rather annoyed at being confronted with the…complicated, nature of his relationship with Sixer. 

“I suppose one could call him my ex.” He conceded, not really wanting to give the situation too much thought. This was enough to cause Toga to grin again, going back to being rather joyful. 

“There we go! Hopefully you won't try to lie to me again about these types of things, I'm very good at telling!” She said in an extremely chipper tone. 

“So, how often do you think you'll be doing all this?” Dabi asked. 

Bill hadn't really thought about that, he also figured that Shigaraki didn't either since they didn't talk about it. Guess they had to figure this out now. 

“Eh, once a week should be good. Every other week if we're dealing with busy work.” Shigaraki offered, acting as though he didn't need to put much thought into it. 

“Okay then, once a week apparently.” Bill echoed, since he was the only one who could hear Shigaraki at the moment. 

“That should be fine. Nothing should come up that could cause that to be an issue.” Kurogiri stated. 

“Though if every time you do possess his body, you're going to be screeching like that, I think I'd rather you not possess him at all.” Dabi laughed. 

“Hahahahaha, shut up.” Bill snapped bitterly, finishing his tea and setting the cup on the table. 

“Yeah, yeah. Heard that one before.” Dabi laughed again, rustling Billaraki's hair and then walking off to do his own thing. Bill had to heavily suppress the urge to uppercut. 

“Don't mind him, he's like that with everyone.” Spinner offered, though he doubted that it gave any comfort. 

“Well, except with me.” Mr. Compress bragged, coming off a bit smug but he was primarily just happy. 

“Yeah, yeah. We know, you're the exception.” Toga said with an eye roll. 

Bill sighed and laid back down, finding himself being tired for the first time in a rather long time. Considering the sudden burst of pain, dealing with social interaction, and being read easily for once made everything seem so damn exhausting. Shigaraki looked over at him. 

“Yeah, the league can be exhausting sometimes. That's not even mentioning the sudden spike of pain that you're dealing with now. Maybe we should use the mindscape thingy you have access to give you some practice rounds while interacting with them. I know them well enough to create a project of them in my mind, probably.” Shigaraki offered, hoping to have things go better next time. 

Billaraki just nodded to give his blessing, too tired to deal with much else today. This certainly seems like it was going to be much more difficult than he originally thought.

(Author's Note: Hello again! Finished this fic yesterday but needed some rest before posting it so here it is! I do hope that y'all enjoyed the fic! If you did, go ahead and check out my AO3 account to see more of my writing.)

(Part 1)

[celebskitten]

The Weeknd's Unexpected Reunion with Bella Hadid. (Fan Fiction)

We all know The Weeknd has been dating with Simi Khadra for 2 years now, but what if he wants to break it off. Simi was throwing a party with her sister Haze. It was happening at Abel's home in Bel Air, L.A. (I have his adress, but if you guys get me to a 1k followers i will give it to you). Anyways back to the story, the party was formal and elgant but yet its more of a teen rager for a party. Abel was just walking about the house, and he didn't seem to be enjoying the party he seemed bored, its not the fist party this was his 176th party he thrown for his girlfriend, in his HOUSE!!!

He needed peace, alone time with his girl, but it SEEEMS that Simi is only dating him for publicity, money and fame. And Abel was tired of that. Simi was modelling down to the bar in her emerald covered dress grabbing champagne at the bar; FOR THE 134TH TIME TONIGHT!!! Abel grabbed her arm; aggressively and pulled her to the side of the room. "Simi, I am f***ing tired of these parties, the paparazzi increasing every single day. It's-" "Too much??", Simi interrupted." Abel, c'mon seriously??, you wanna be a f***ing little p**** right now?? Its just a party-" "It's just a party?? Its just a F***ING PARTY??!!", Abel asked, yelling. "You are just using me, and I am done, and I am tired. You ruining my f***ing life, and you're still a f***ing b****!!! For no f***ing reason!!!!" Abel exclaimed. Simi started to tremble, tears popping out of her eyes, snot from her nose dripping, she uses her hands to remove it, which is utterly disgusting.

"You wanna cry??", Abel asked. "You wanna f***ing cry?? You wanna F***ING CRY, SIMI??"

"Don't try to play the victim, I defended you when people didn't like us together, and guess what everyone was right, you are just using me... you didn't care about my feelings, and guess what, we ..... are done!!" And then he storms off, leaving Simi in total heartbreak.

Abel tries to walk through the room fool of people when he bumped into.... "Abel??" "Bella?? Uh...hi.", Abel stutters. Bella smiled at him, she was wearing a long silk lavender dress in a light shade looking elegant and sexy as ever. "I didn't know you came here, to the party." Abel said, surprised. "Well, Simi called me for us to have a start over so yeah, how are you two doing anyways." Bella asked, surprisingly happy. "We broke up a minute ago, if you are looking for her, she is at the bar." Abel said. "Uhm wow, I didn't expect that, I didn't actually come here for Simi, she did invite but, I was going to be 'late' because I wanted to talk to you!!"

Abel's heart skipped a beat...and somehow blushes. And Bella gave him a flirty look. "Yeah sure, I was gonna go to the roof top if you wanna talk there."

"PERFECT!!", Bella exclaimed.

The two rushed up to the rooftop and watched the sunset to welcome the night. The view was amazing, the sunset was awakening the city lights to welcome the night and the sky turned into a mix of purple, pink and yet yellow?? Making it a heaven for love.

"This view is just so beautiful!" Bella admired. "It's not as beautiful as you are..", Abel complimented. "You know Abel, I always thought that we could last forever, I really want us to be together, but I have one question."

"YEAH??" Abel asked.

"Did you ever love me?" "I did, and I still do", Abel said as stepped forward.

Bella sat down on the ledge and Abel did too, and he moved a bit closer...... "How could I've been so blind??" Abel asked. "You aren't its just a couple of skanks distracted you..." Bella replied, flintily.

AND THEY KISSED, THEY KISSED WITH OUT SPEAKING WORDS. Becausetheir body language speaks for them andd they kissed until the night sky appeared.

[sxfwap]

Home (pt. 2)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff X Female Reader

Summary: Wanda finally confronts you with the help of her twin brother, Pietro.

Word count: 1.328

Warnings: none. Again, pure fluff.

Part 1

As some time passed, your relationship with Wanda definitely changed. She just couldn’t deny her attraction to you anymore.

Eventually, her twin brother, Pietro, started to suspect about something going on between you two. He also noticed that the way you acted towards each other was different.

It first started in the dining room, when you were all eating. He occasionally found Wanda eyeing you and exchanging smiles with you. He didn’t think nothing at first, until he realized you both were searching for the others attention almost every time you were all there.

Then in the training room. You used to train along the twins, until Nat started to notice you were distracted by something (or rather someone).

But even when you trained in a different schedule, Wanda would still go to annoy watch you from one of the balconies. She would often use her magic to catch your attention. Although she tried her best to be discreet, Nat noticed but never said anything.

And lastly, when you two were simply together.

When Wanda would be bothered by something, she would always call for your help, which was basically hugs and cuddles.

He knew something was up with both of you, hence; he could sense the tension and nervousness coming from the two of you, so he decided to play cupid and help a little bit.

He made his way to Wanda’s bedroom. “Privet sestra (hello sister),” Pietro said opening the door. “You good?” He asked leaning on the doorframe.

Wanda was sat in her bed, her back on the headboard with a book in her hands. As soon as she saw her brother she smiled. “Yeah, I’m just a few pages from finishing it.” She said referring to her book.

“I see.” He said closing the door, and walking closer to his sister. “Why don’t you finish– or better said– resolve something else.” He said in a whisper.

Wanda looked confused for a moment, not knowing what he meant. “Resolve what?” She replied, also in a whisper.

“Whatever you have going on with Y/n perhaps?” He asked teasingly. Wanda immediately blushed, but tried to cover it by looking away.

Pietro laughed loudly. “Aha! Look at you, she isn’t even in the room and you became a mess already.” He said trying to calm himself. Wanda threw one of her pillows to his face.

“It’s okay though, she does the same. Whenever I ask for her to make a move on you she becomes a stuttering mess.”

“Really?” She asked. A small sensation of hope rising within her. Although now that his brother mentioned it, she noticed that when you and Pietro were talking in her presence, you always seemed nervous.

“Of course idiot! My God, you both really are oblivious. I expected more from you, you know?” He teased. Wanda’s hand began to glow with her red magic and with it, she grabbed another pillow, ready to throw it again on his brother.

“Okay, okay, no need for that again.” He chuckled. “Now, I have the perfect plan for you to ask her out.”

–

The plan indeed wasn’t perfect. At least on Wanda’s opinion. But who could blame her? She wasn’t always a flirt like her brother, and the new feelings she’s been experiencing for you were new too.

Wanda was walking down the hall until she reached the living room. Her hands were fidgeting with each other trying to calm her nerves.

And there you were. Laying on the ‘L’ sofa, peacefully watching some animal documentary in the T.V.

The brunette would calm herself down whenever she looked at you, because you gave her a lot of comfort. But today it was different. Her nerves were at the top and her mind was overthinking again.

Feeling as if someone was watching you, you lazily moved your head only to catch Wanda’s gaze already on you.

You smiled warmly at her, but stopped the moment you saw her looking down, avoiding your gaze. “Are you okay, Wan? You asked softly.

Wanda sighed, still avoiding your gaze. She moved her hands to her hair and brushed it with her fingers. “Y–yeah, I… I just wanted to see you.” She said finally looking up to your eyes.

“Well, here I am.” You said jokingly, causing the witch to giggle. “Do you want to watch a movie? I was just finishing this thing. Oh! How about Tangled? I know you love it.” You said pointing to her to come closer.

Wanda obeyed and sat next to you. “Actually… there’s something I wanted to tell you first.” She said in a more serious tone.

Now you were sure something was bothering her and you would do whatever you could to make her feel better.

Wanda’s eyes widened a little bit and her cheeks blushed at the unexpected thought coming from your mind. Her heart began to pound faster.

Your hand reached out to hold hers, a worried look on your face. You grabbed Wanda’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Wanda?”

Wanda looked at your hands together, the feeling of your touch soothing her nervousness. She then looked at your face.

The worrying look on your face made her realize something.

Green eyes crashed into yours. The look of pure adoration and worry irradiating from your eyes made her think clear. She was new in the whole love aspect, but she wasn’t blind (her romance books helped too). She then risked looking at your lips.

Suddenly she stopped thinking. She stopped waisting her time and moved forward. She closed her eyes just as her lips touched yours softly. She’s kissing you. She’s kissing you. Your mind went blank. The woman you’re in love with was kissing you.

As soon as Wanda’s lips left yours, she stepped back a little. Because of your lack of response, she thought the worst.

She looked scared and more anxious than before. “I–I’m SO sorry, I– uhm, Y/n, please don’t hate–“

But you didn’t let her finish. You grabbed her face with both of your hands and closed your eyes as you pushed her forward again, your lips meeting hers halfway.

Her lips were soft, just as they looked. Wanda closed her eyes too, a little startled for your sudden move. She softly put her hands on your waist making you closer to her.

Butterflies were erupting from your stomach as Wanda broke the kiss when air was needed. Her lips were swollen slightly just like yours, and a pink shade covered her cheeks.

When you both opened your eyes, you laughed. Never taking both your hands away from the position they were in.

“So this was what you were going to tell me?” You asked breathlessly, the smile on your face growing when she nodded.

“Yes, oh my God I did it– wait you did it too!” She replied, grinning. “You– you kissed me too!” She giggled. The sound making you even happier.

“Yeah! I did!” You said with the same amount of happiness. “I– I didn’t think you’d like me in that way.” You confessed looking deep into her eyes.

Her hands squeezed your waist slightly, her eyes full of affection. “How could I not? You’ve been nothing but kind and patient with me, and God you’re beautiful.”

You giggled at her compliment, your cheeks turning red. Not only you got to kiss the most amazing woman on Earth but she called you beautiful.

Suddenly a noise startled the both of you. As you turned around you found Pietro clapping and coming closer. “Although that was not how we planned it, I gotta say you did impress me this time, sestra (sister).”

“Wait, speedy helped you?” You asked teasingly pointing between Wanda and Pietro.

Wanda nodded with a big smile.

“Older brother things.” He said winking, making his way to the exit.

Your life was going to be way more interesting now, and even more special with Wanda by your side.

–

A/N: Hello guys! Here’s part 2. I hope you all like it! Have a great day/afternoon/night!

[kayrogers]

sugar baby ][ r. drysdale

50 shades / CEO au

Paring(s): ceo!ransom x curator!reader 

Inspo: the embarrassing amount of ransom smut I've read

Word Count: 2300+

Warning(s): cursing, implied smut, unequal power-dynamic, mention of kinks, and ransom being the hot douche he is

Part: part 1 | part ??

A/N: imma be real with y’all I saw knives out in theaters like three times and I am absolute ransom trash, I apologize

It was already a shitty day.

By the time you had reached Thrombey Selects, you were on the verge of frustrated tears and you hadn’t even gone into your interview yet.

Your day started normal enough, you prepared for your interview and organized your portfolio about ten different times before you could run out the door. Coffee was a better option than actual food for breakfast as the thing really filling your stomach was anxiety. You had only gotten your masters recently and it was a miracle that you were given an interview at Thrombey Selects, only having pulled together minimal art galleries — most of which were done as part of getting your degree in the first place.

Then there was the subway. It felt like it took forever to get to the Lower East Side, especially being sat between two men with no concept of personal space and a snot-nosed two year old giving you a stink eye across the aisle. And to make matters worse you got a coffee spilled on your dress right as you walked off the train. The woman who spilled it actually had the audacity to scream at your face, and say it was your fault, like she wasn’t nose-deep in her phone. Luckily, you had left your apartment super early and you stopped at the nearest department store you could find. A too-expensive little black dress later and you were on your way to Thrombey Selects. And then it down poured and by the time you walked into the building, every inch of you was drenched in water.

You took a deep breath, approaching the receptionist with rain droplets falling from your hair and onto the floor. She looked up at you with an unimpressed gaze, stating that you’d be meeting with a Mr. Drysdale ‘whenever he felt like showing up’. You weren’t exactly sure what that meant but you took it as a chance to dry off.

Stepping away towards an empty hallway you were quick to work, taking up residence next to a decorative plant and ringing your hair out into the pot. Taking off your cardigan was the most work, the grey material sticking to your skin like glue. You undoubtedly looked like a madman, wrestling to get the knit off and finally slicking it onto the floor to reveal the tight little number you bought.

“Quite the weather, huh?” A deep male voice said from behind you.

You jumped and nearly tripped over your heels as you turned around to find the source. That source being a very gorgeous man with piercing blue eyes. He had a confident smirk and carved features, it was almost like he was created by a sculptor in Rome.

“Oh- oh my gosh! Sorry, I um yeah... kinda got caught in the rain.” You blush with a sigh, still taking in the stranger’s appearance.

He dressed sharp, yet casual. Adorning himself in a black turtleneck and pants, accompanied by a brown trench coat and Chelsea boots. The accessory on him which drew the most attention though was a large, flowery scarf. You suddenly felt very aware of the less glamorous state of your dress and reached for the cardigan you so ungraciously plopped on the floor.

“You’re [Y/n], right? [Y/n] [Y/l/n]?” He shamelessly looked you up and down while saying that, only making you blush more.

“How do you know my-“

“Because I’m interviewing you. The name is Hugh Ransom Drysdale, but you can just call me Ransom. The help call me Hugh.” His lips curled into a wide smirk and he shook your hand as it changed into a white-toothed grin.

‘The help’ stuck in your head for a moment and nearly made you frown. Any man who talked like that came from money, lots of money. And he clearly wasn’t the type to be polite about it.

“Let’s head up to my office, Honey.” And with that the two of you were on your way.

You could help but feel his eyes on you with every step you took, each click of your heels hitting the floors like a deafening clock. He opens a door to reveal a sleek, modern office room complete with a portrait of Harlan Thrombey on the back wall. You would recognize that face anywhere after reading his novels repeatedly, his picture always located in the back. He was the reason you applied here in the first place, he was passionate and creative. Any man like him would be expected to have a taste for the arts.

Ransom took his seat behind the desk and you sat in front of him gripping your portfolio tightly while he pulled out a Manila file.

“It’s interesting that grandad picked you for the interview... from the looks of it, you’re extremely under qualified compared to the rest of the staff.” Ransom immediately listed off in a twisted tone, dismissive and intrigued all at once.

You pulled a tight-lipped smile, “and yet, here I am.”

He looked up from the file, blue eyes shooting into your own holding intent you could not read. The smirk appeared on his face once more.

“Tell me about yourself, [Y/n]. I want a better understanding.” You suddenly felt small in that moment, you knew what he was actually telling you.

‘Show me why I should give a fuck about you.’

“Uh- well I’m a hard worker. I come from a low income family so I’ve been working since I was 14, in my mom’s diner. I still serve to keep up with rent, but that’s at a classier place no offense to my mom. Art has um always been my passion though... I’m sorry, am I doing this right?” You bit your lip, staring across to see Ransom sporting a sneaky smile you didn’t understand.

“How bout I help you along? Are you prepared for a lot of physical work? How much do you exercise a week? I know you may think being one of our curators is easy work, but I like to run things differently here.” That confuses you.

You know how curation works, hell it’s why you got your degree but the only physical thing you ever did was hang paintings on a wall.

“Uh- I mean I workout when I can but I’m pretty busy. I serve so I get a lot of time on my feet. But, I’m sure I can handle whatever you throw at me!” You answered honestly and watched as he quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you can Miss [Y/l/n]. So... any significant others?” Warmth filled your face at his question.

“No I am single- sorry I just don’t understand what this has to do with being a curator.” You finish with a smile to hide how unsure you were.

Ransom just grins back, “oh that is because I am opting you for a better position. Higher up, better pay grade, and more personal work with me. Here take a look,” He reaches into his desk and pulls out a black file, tossing it to you.

Opening the folder shows you a contract that makes your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

‘Sugar Baby’ is in bold at the top.

Reading through, you become flustered seeing the requirements and perks. The pay is definitely better, but is it worth the submissive role he intends you to play? Calling him ‘Sir’? Your cheeks burn as you keep flicking through, seeing all his kinks and desires written in ink. The particular emphasis on bondage and the sub/dom dynamic made heat pool between your legs. You run your thighs together in instinct, missing how his eyes light up at the response.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now. In fact, my cell is on there, take a few days to look it over and text me. If not, I can still offer you that basic paid internship of a position.” His eyes were intense when they met yours, hiding the gears which were in overdrive behind their deep blue.

He was manipulating you and he wasn’t even shy about it. You were ashamed to think that you didn’t mind it. This was insane! Completely unethical and gross, but you found yourself considering the position all the same. Especially given the rut you found yourself in for quite a while now in the sex department. Graduating and entering your career didn’t leave much time for any sexual encounters, excluding your dominant hand.

“Yeah- uhm I’ll definitely have to get back to you. Not that I’m not interested-“ Your voice betrayed you, coming out quiet and almost naive.

“- it’s a lot. Sleep on it, Babe.” He stood up and you took that as your signal to leave which you were thankful for.

“Thank you, Mr- sorry.. Ransom.” You stood as well, closing the folder and holding it tightly in your hands.

You move to grab your sopping cardigan but he scoops it up before you can.

“I’ll have our dry cleaners handle this, don’t need a potential employee getting pneumonia today. Take my jacket, I’m sure I’ll be getting it back soon.” He matter-of-factly states and hands you his trench coat.

You sling it on, feeling small in the garment made for the clearly muscular man. Even in your heels he towered over you.

“Thank you.” There’s a small smile on your face and you head towards the door.

He walks behind you, his hand finding the small of your back as he opens the office door for you.

“Can’t wait to hear from you, Miss [Y/l/n].” Ransom’s voice is low and his breath fans on the back of your neck as you exit and the door clicks behind you.

-

It was about 11 PM in your apartment as you sat on your bed thinking of perhaps the longest pro-con list you could with a glass of wine in hand.

You had been surfing on your laptop, gathering as much information as you could about Ransom Drysdale and the idea of being a ‘sugar baby’.

‘Pros: He’s gorgeous. We have a lot of the same kinks. It’s a lot more money than the internship. I’ll probably get some nice clothes out of this. I can stop waitressing. He’s really really hot. I have the opportunity to live my dream and work at my dream company, and get some good sex on the side.’ You thought, biting your lip and thinking too much about what he looked like without clothes on.

‘Cons: this is a very unprofessional proposition and definitely a little demeaning. He’s clearly a douche. The ‘help’ comment. I don’t know if he even is that good in bed. I don’t really know this man at all and now I’m basically signing a portion of my life to him. If he doesn’t think I’m good in bed, am I getting fucked over??’ You took a large gulp of wine, eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.

Ransom’s crystalline eyes stared back at you through the screen, the picture from a Ralph Lauren photo shoot.

“Fuck, he’s a model too.” You muttered with a groan.

Of all the valid negatives that filled your mind, the heat pooling below your stomach at the thought of him taking control of you and your life felt much stronger. Were you a little messed up to even be considering this so heavily?? Fuck, probably.

But even so, the idea tantalized you in such a way that had you reaching for the folder to read through his demands once again.

You didn’t quite like the demands of you working out 4 times a week and completely overhauling your diet. Sure, you probably shouldn’t have been eating the amount of microwaveable and junk foods you usually did but that's none of his business! But perhaps these things could be amenable within the contract? You decided you wouldn’t take part unless they were.

But most importantly, you wouldn’t decide on anything without a good night’s sleep.

-

The next morning you stared at the contract as though it were the most important thing you could sign in your life. A weight settled on your shoulders and you avoided the piece of paper for the rest of the morning. Instead you decided to run through your daily routine, taking a shower and getting dressed for the day. You made yourself a cup of coffee and stared at your small apartment with a slight frown.

Reality rushed through you as you realized the position you were in before this opportunity presented itself. You have tremendous debt from school, even with the scholarships you had received. The shoebox you lived in was already barely affordable while you practically worked yourself to death at the upscale bar-restaurant you were currently employed with. The idea that you could leave all this and live lavishly on the payroll of one of the wealthiest families in New York, was one which had been growing on you enormously.

Impulsively, you grabbed your phone and typed his phone number into your messages.

‘Hello, Mr. Drysdale. Or I guess I should say, Ransom.

This is [Y/n] [Y/l/n]. I have thought over your offer and though I have a few concerns with certain aspects of the contract... I would be glad to talk them over with you and get to an agreement we are both comfortable with. I am indeed interested in this position.

When would you like to go over the details?’

You typed out the message, writing in the most professional manner you could (despite the content of the proposal). Pressing the send button sent a series of sparks through your skin and up your spine, butterflies filling your stomach.

Within minutes though, there was a response.

‘Saturday night. Be ready at 7 PM sharp. I will send a car for you. Can’t wait ;)’

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

taglist(s):

sugar baby -

permanent -

@ultrunning​ @jesseswartzwelder​

[slightlymore]

Snail

Disclaimer: I do not consider Jaehyun a fuckboy in the derogatory sense of the term, he’s just very flirty and cocky in this piece for entertaining purposes okay lol alright let’s go; also, no, the snail title has nothing to do with the sexy situation lol dw, it’s a cursed one but not that cursed Words: 5K Warnings: mention of blood (regarding a little cut on the hand, nothing serious) related to the plot not the sexy bits | manhandling and rough | oral (both) + swallowing + face fucking 

As the floor trembled and your escargot went flying all the way until meeting the handsome face of a stranger, you promised yourself to learn how to say no more often. You had no idea why you accepted to be on a cruise in the middle of the Pacific. Wasn't the Pacific supposed to be, you know, pacific? Or were you just that clumsy? 

Your mouth was open and it continued to grow ever wider at the look of one escargot sliding slowly on the man's eyes. He was standing there, with hands wide open in front of him as if someone splashed a bucket of cold water on his whole body. "I am-" you got closer with the first napkin you could find, "-mortified" you added, trying hard to build up courage and wipe the garlic off his nose. But you didn't manage to as he preferred to wipe his whole face with his palm instead. You watched him with a sorry and disgusted face, while awkwardly holding the fabric with both of your hands. Then he suddenly opened his eyes and gave you the most assassin of looks. His wet eyelashes accentuated the growing redness and his furrowed eyebrows created a deep, scary shadow. You gulped loudly and jolted as he slid the napkin from your fingers with a violent movement. "I apologize, I didn't-" you tried to speak again but as the man finished to wipe his face he turned his back to you and walked away throwing the napkin at your feet. "-mean to…" you whispered without completing the phrase as no one was there to listen to it anymore.

Your sister laughed loudly for a solid minute into the phone. You sighed but you felt the chuckle warm up your chest and you found yourself grinning as well. "I can imagine his face even if I don't know what he looks like-" she spoke again but choking on the words as another laughing fit interrupted her. You shook your head as if pretending to be disappointed by her behavior. "It was terrible. I've been here for 20 minutes and I've already made a fool out of myself," you commented. "Y/N, I know you don't like stuff like this, but that fundraising party is vital for the image of my company," your sister finally was able to catch her breath. You rested your elbows on the iron rails and looked down at the shining water. "Yes, don't worry, I can deal with all of this". "Just smile and shake hands and tell people who is giving the money you're giving," you listened to your sister's voice through the phone. The sun was so bright that it was almost difficult for you to keep your eyes open. You suddenly started to feel hot and tired, already socially exhausted after interacting with only one person. Turning around, you stared at the colorful clothes people were wearing, yellow, red, green, white, pink, bright blue and your head started to hurt. Everyone was chatting loudly, holding drinks, telling each other about their last investments, yachts, airplanes, jewelry, celebrity parties, vacation plans. What in the world would you talk with them about when your dress was $15 and your earrings probably plastic? You sighed again. "-and remember to talk to the fundraiser. He's a pain in the ass but rather charming if you know what buttons to press," you listened to your sister's last words while wondering what she said before that. "Alright, get well soon," you replied, eager to sit somewhere in the shade with a nice refreshing lemonade or something. You walked around the deck, thinking about how nice it would be to put your hot feet inside the cool water of the pool. But no, the fundraiser wanted a chic, semi-formal look for the party. As if anyone cares. You rolled your eyes, having a full-on conversation with yourself inside your mind, hovering over the refreshments. You poured yourself whatever looked fresh and not too sweet and downed it all. It was only when you turned around, hearing the mic being hit as if someone was trying to grab everyone’s attention that you realized you just had a big ass glass of alcohol. “Thank you for being here,” said the man. He was on top of the small stage from where the live band was providing people with background noise. People clapped and you imitated them, trying to walk at the front and see the fundraiser’s face. Finally, he was speaking. Afterwards, it wouldn’t be that weird to just go inside your cabin and chill for the rest of the day until dinner, would it? You “sorry, uhm, excuse me, haha, mind if I just-, thank you” ed you way until being able to see the man’s feet. First thing: boat shoes. Okay, you were on a boat, kind of, but, honestly? Come on. Then you raised your eyes to see his cream shorts and sighed. In the end you eyed his red shirt with black palms on it. What a rollercoaster. But it wasn’t until you saw his face that you felt like falling down.  “Snail man!” you gasped covering your mouth with your hand. Curious eyes looked at you from left and right and the man himself stopped from talking and looked down at you. You didn’t yell that just now, did you? Now you were definitely going to be thrown off the ship. Snail man’s eyes were firing but his lips smiled when he cleared his throat and just continued the monologue as if you were a little fly not worth his attention. You pressed your lips together, hoping that your warm cheeks would be mistaken for sunburns instead of killing mortification. After everything was finished and the band started playing their music again, you debated whether talking to the fundraiser or not. He didn’t look very pleased to see you and you were afraid you were going to embarrass yourself even further, but your conscience didn’t let you just run away. You didn’t apologize properly and your sister would be upset that you didn’t talk to him at all. “Uhm, excuse me,” you spoke to him, rising your hand a little as when you’re too shy to call the waitress to ask for more breadsticks. He turned his head to look at you, one hand in his pocket and the other one holding a glass of champagne. His eyebrows got furrowed very quickly and you sensed that he was doing everything in his power to not roll his eyes. “Ah, snail woman herself,” he commented with a dry voice. You walked towards him hurriedly as if glad he gave you a chance to talk to him. “I wanted to properly apologize for the incident. I didn’t do it on purpose… uh…” you knew his name was Jung Jaehyun but he was too young for you to use honorifics with him. At the same time, he definitely looked like someone wanting to be called Sir. He sighed. “Call me Mr. Jung,” he told you. Yep. “Mr. Jung,” you repeated. He sipped on his drink again. You stared. Uhm?? He should tell you that he’s forgiving you now, right? That’s how human interactions work. I’m sorry. Oh no, it’s alright. “Is there something else you wanted to tell me?” he spoke after the awkward pause. Was there something else you had to tell him? You were kind of panicking. How do rich people talk? “I am Y/N?” you question, hoping it was what he wanted to hear. Nice to meet you Y/N, let’s just pretend that we didn’t have an abrupt first contact and let me help you feel less embarrassed. But no. He laughed at you. Yeah. Just like that. He laughed loudly for everyone to hear while your whole face got even more flushed than before.  The people that were close enough to you to hear your conversation, chuckled secretly, giving you weird stares.  You stared at his face.  If you didn’t feel a slow-boiling rage inside your chest, you might have considered his laugh charming, with those white teeth and deep dimples of his. But you were indeed starting to feel rather irritated. You did splatter him in buttery escargots and called him a snail, but you apologized and he definitely saw how mortified you were. Was this a way to make you pay? You looked around and felt the urge to hug yourself but you didn’t want to look more vulnerable that you actually were. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he talked again and you locked eyes with him again. He was still amused but a softer light adorned his eyes. “I’m messing with you. It’s fine. We’re cool, don’t worry about the snails,” he added, walking towards the refreshments table and looking around, unsure. You tailed him to be able to hear what he was saying. He was probably those types of people that were used to just walk around a company while six people surrounded him taking notes and helping him to take off his jacket. “Escargot,” you whispered. The man shrugged. “Snails that you eat. Besides, you called me snail man, not escargot man”. You took a glass of orange juice while he smelled some pastries. “Unless you wanted to say that I look like a snail,” he considered. “Oh no, you don’t look like one at all,” you assured him. “And how do I look?”. “Very handsome-” you sputtered before being able to stop yourself.  Okay, what the actual fuck? There were legit thousands of different ways to say it. You look fine. You look nice. You look good. Nonchalantly Y/N. More casual. As if you don’t care. No. You look very handsome. God. To the snail man that embarrassed you just 1 minute ago. Mr. Jung looked at you with the corner of his eye and smiled. Who knows how many times he has heard that before. “Honestly, you caught my eyes as you entered the cruise. I was there when you tripped because I was coming to talk to you,” he confessed. His tone was flat though as if he was talking about the weather. Your head jerked into his direction.  How does one reply to that? Thanks? Should you feel flattered? Okay, he was a very handsome man but if he needed only a piece of garlic thrown to his face to change his mind about you (when it was an accident) then you didn't want it. “I see,” you talked awkwardly while your hand tried to put down your empty glass. “Hey, caref-” Mr. Jung warned you but it was too late. Your nerves were so thin that you didn’t realize how fragile crystal glasses actually were. “Oh, shit-” you stared at the shattered pieces in your hand. One of your fingers was quick to bleed little beads of blood. “I am so sorry,” you apologized for what you felt was the 20th time that day. For no reason.  “Let me see,” Mr. Jung ordered, carefully cleaning the skin of any remaining fragments after you opened your hand. “I have a first aid kit in my suite. Let’s go,” he spoke again and taking your other hand he just walked away, as if completely sure you'd follow him. You tugged a little trying to convince him that you were fine. “It’s alright. I have a band-aid in my purse”. Mr. Jung just stared at you without saying a word as if his eyes were powerful enough to command you to do what he wanted. Not negotiable, they were saying. You softened your grip and let yourself be dragged away with a sigh.

His cabin didn’t look like yours at all. It was much more spacious and elegant. His bed was round and luxurious. It looked so sensual with its red and black bedding that you had to look away. Your heels got buried in the soft and thick rug placed in the middle of the floor. Mr. Jung’s perfume impregnated the whole room and you felt a little light-headed. He took you to the desk in front of the big windows that were showing the lazy waves underneath the cruise. Leaving you there to rest your hips on the wooden furniture, he opened a cabinet and retrieved what he needed to disinfect your cut. When he turned around and got closer you could see how his expression was serious and stern, no trace of the flirty light from before. Maybe he didn't want you to sue him for hurting yourself on his cruise? You breathed sharply through your teeth when he placed the cold and wet cotton on your finger and he raised his eyes to look at you. You returned the glare. “It’s alright,” you whispered, inciting him to go on. You had no idea why you kept your voice so low. Maybe because he was standing so close to you, almost touching your knees with his thighs, or maybe because he looked so concentrated, his plump lips slightly open and a little line between his eyebrows. As he was looking down on your hand, you looked at his face for the first time without feeling shy. You didn’t like to see blood or maybe it was the sun hitting your head but you suddenly felt all your limbs very weak.  When he was done and looked up, you swallowed and made sure to be caught gazing at the surroundings instead of the nude collarbones his unbuttoned shirt revealed. But maybe he wasn’t that stupid. “You look very pale,” he commented while raising a hand and brushing his thumb on your lower lip. “You also look a little shocked,” he added more amused when you jolted at his touch. Yeah, because you’re touching me, not because of the cut.  What was he doing? Do rich people think that they own people as well? You tried to express that with your eyes but he looked unfazed as if doing that was as easy and normal as to shake someone’s hand. You knew you had to move away, tell him that you just need to get some rest, maybe lay down for a bit. But your limbs wouldn’t move.  You cleared your throat. “Thank you,” you murmured moving your hand as to indicate what you were referring to.  Mr. Jung was just staring, apparently not used to reply to gratitude, eyes slightly narrowed as if analyzing you, then they went down and openly looked at your breasts. 

Okay.  Alright. You didn’t wear any bra because it would have ruined the dress silhouette and you were already anxious out of your mind wondering if your nipples would show or not, so you definetly didn’t expect people to just staring at it. You gulped and let out a little nervous laugh while shifting your body, trying to do something that would distract him from staring at your boobs, not because you hated it, but because you suddenly felt exposed, shy and, God save us, maybe a little turned on. You shouldn’t have drunk that glass of alcohol. “Your suite is very nice. The color scheme is intense but charming-” you started to cary the conversation but felt your breath hitch as he got suddenly even closer as if not listening nor caring about what you were trying to discuss. “Please, don’t stop talking,” he purred. “I love your voice,” he added distracted.  “You’re not even listening to me,” you replied with a tiny sound. “Mm, you’re right, I’m focusing on other things right now,” he smiled finally lifting his gaze on your face. “Your dress has a blood spot right here,” he pointed to one of your nipples, touching it, definitely feeling how it got hard because of it. You quickly dropped your head to your chest to see. Damn it!, that was a big ass spot on your fucking bright yellow dress. “Why did you wait so long to tell me that?” you jerked your head up again.  He shrugged. “I got distracted”. And you knew what he meant with that. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms on your chest and puffing your cheeks. He found that very funny and just laughed at you. Again. “I think I should go now,” you nodded to yourself as if building up the courage to get up. “Yeah”, Mr. Jung agreed. But you didn’t move nor did he. So, he tilted his head on the side and wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue,  getting as close as to whisper on your lips.  “Or maybe you’re waiting for me to help you get undressed?” he asked teasingly. His hands were pressed on the desk around your body, his arms feeling like a cage and his presence so intense that you physically shivered. “You- you should let me go,” you stuttered, even if you both already understood that you had no intention to go away. Mr. Jung let his dimples appear in a shiny smile. "What if I want to do something else?" he asked without breaking eye contact. You kept in a whimper, not used to hear people talking to you like that. "You'd have to at least buy me dinner first," you tried to joke and keep up with his vibe. "I'll fill you up so well that you won't want to eat anything else," he whispered and you've never felt your guts do what they just did ever before. Fuck.  "I-" you blinked unable to look at his eyes. What was happening? Why was the fundraiser flirting with you? Why weren't you already on your feet walking towards your cabin? Why were your fingers moving slowly to touch his wrist? Why did you were feeling the urge to let it brush his skin and follow the vein on his forearm until reaching the bicep then upon his shoulder, caressing it when it reached the soft part of the neck trying to understand if his pulse was beating as fast as yours or not. He let you do that as your eyes followed your hand and when it was close to his face you saw his jaw clench. You stopped.  "Go on," he ordered but you couldn't bring yourself to, feeling your cheeks suddenly burn. So he took your hand and forced it down on his chest, slowly, letting you feel his muscles underneath the thin shirt fabric, going down on his abdomen, making your breath hitch as he flexed his abs on your fingertips, not stopping, letting it slide on his cold belt until your palm was all the way on his turgid length. He pressed his hand on yours even harder, letting you understand what you were dealing with, not looking away from your face, loving your reactions. Oh, you were wet, fuck you were so wet. "Okay," you breathed out, "okay, okay, you won Mr. Jung". "But there is no game," he explained with a sly smile. "If you're trying to make me pay or embarrass me because of the incident, then I'm sorry again Mr. Jung-” you spoke trying to keep your composure that was holding itself on the thinnest thread ever. He chuckled. “I’m trying to tell you that I want to fuck you, miss Y/N,” he whispered against your ear, articulating every word, slowly, as if he was touching you already with his voice alone. You let out a tiny moan that became suddenly bigger as his tongue lightly traced the curve of your neck, making you stretch it to the side. Then he just bit down, hard, with no warning, sucking on the skin, grabbing your thighs, digging his fingers into your flesh and lifting you into his arms. You yelped and tightened your arms around his neck not expecting the movement and not expecting his throwing you on the bed either. You exhaled sharply as it knocked all of the air out of your lungs and he didn’t even give you a single second to breathe in again, that he was already on the bed, on his knees, between your legs. Oh, God. It’s about to happen. But he didn’t do what you thought he would do. His smile never flattered and his eyes never let you go while his palms caressed your legs slowly, from your calves, going underneath your knees, tickling your sensitive skin, then upon your thigh where the dress split started. You looked down at his hands and just gasped loudly when he held the fabric and just tore it apart. “It was ruined anyway, baby girl,” he assured you seeing your shocked expression. You jolted again when he touched your stomach and ripped your dress again, this time until the tear reached your chest and you felt the material sliding off your skin to the sides. Naked in one second, you shivered certain that your cheeks were burning. You wanted to say something, but you had no idea what should one say in these types of situations. “Would you help me take this off as well, babe?” Mr. Jung smiled. “I can’t possibly tear that apart,” you sat up shocked. Jaehyun’s deep laugh tickled your ears. “Just unbutton it, love, it’s enough,” he suggested and you obeyed lifting your hands to rest on his chest for a moment then slowly tackling the task. You felt Mr. Jung’s gaze on your body just as present as his fingers drawing little circles on your bare thighs. “You are so beautiful, miss Y/N,” he suddenly said making your hands tremble on the last button. His compliment didn’t linger in your mind too much though as the image in front of you knocked your thoughts out of your mind. You touched him, starting from the bottom, pressing your hands hard then going up scratching his skin with your nails. He breathed out as your fingers spread on his chest and you expected him to finally kiss you but he just raised one hand and cupped your face, feeling your cheek with his thumb then letting it descend on your neck, massaging your throat, applying some pressure, enough for you to open your lips in an attempt to breath better. Your legs squirmed around him, trying hard to get together, indicating him that something between them needed attention. But he just smiled and didn’t budge. His hand continued to go down on your body until reaching your soft breasts, cupping them, feeling the smoothness of your skin and the plumpness of your hard nipples. You whined at the touch and your eyes implored him to go faster. “Be a good girl for me, or I will stop,” he warned you softly. “You want me to stop?” You shook your head quickly, so easy to submit yourself to him. He smiled as if pleased and let your breasts go to unbuckle his belt. His pace was so calm and slow, so different from just a minute ago when he literally ripped your clothes off your body. He was a surprise and your core felt even wetter at the thought of what he might do next. When he let his thick cock out, pumping it slowly, licking his lips teasingly, you thought he wanted you to go down on him, and oh, you were so eager to do it, letting your tongue feel his veins and taste his flavour.  But he clicked his tongue with a dimpled smile as if reading your mind and directed his length on your breasts, hitting your nipples with the tip of his cock, little drops of precum smearing on them, making both of your breaths hitch. You looked down at how it moved and promptly grabbed your chest, tightening it around him, opening your mouth and letting a trail of saliva fall on it. Jaehyun hummed appreciatively and moved his hips between our breasts, loving the way your skin felt on his hot cock, grunting every now and then and biting his lower lip. You, on the other hand, were panting loudly, soon shut up by his fingers shoved inside your mouth to suck on them. Your tongue wet them well while looking up at him with lusty eyes as if asking if you were being a good girl or not. The answer was that you were so good that he had to feel that tongue on his cock as well. So he just grabbed your head by the nape and filled your mouth all in one go, hitting the back of your throat with the hottest groan you’ve heard a man do before. “Oh- oh fuck, fuck-” he managed to say as his adam apple went up and down, swallowing hard. He was so hot, rolling himself on your tongue, chocking you, thrusting fast, holding your face with both of his hands, staring down at how his cock disappeared between your lips. You whined at his size and you would have let him know that it was too much if he didn’t release right at that moment with a shudder of his hips. His expression was pained from pleasure and he tried to pull out but you grabbed his sides to keep him in place and he cursed again, feeling his cum slide down your throat as you swallowed around him, adding to the euphoria. A little trail of it came out your lips and down your chin that you promptly collected with your finger and licked off, slowly, not breaking eye contact.  “You are driving me fucking crazy,” his voice came out deep and dangerous just like the look in his dark eyes and just like his manners.  He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you down on your back but not giving you a second to catch your breath as you were already turned around on your stomach with a dull thud, his hands forcing you to get on all fours in front of him. Your panties were quickly dragged down your legs but your needy core wasn’t left bare too long as his tongue replaced the fabric, hugging your form tightly, vibrating restlessly on your bundle of nerves, smacking it by tugging it with his lip, caressing it with his thumb, stretching you out to fuck you with his fingers. Previously upright on your hands you just had to let yourself fall on the mattress, not having a single ounce of force in your arms anymore, pressing your face on the covers, mumbling nonsense as Jaehyun was sending you into pure bliss. His teeth followed his tongue on your thigh, biting the soft flesh and sucking on it hard, adding to the sensation his fingers provided so deep inside of you. “S-sir,” you whimpered breathlessly, “don’t stop, please,” you begged. And he didn’t. “Does it feel good, princess?” he asked before going back to tease your clit.  “Y-yes, yes, please, I want-” you whispered.  He knew what you wanted.  He kept on pumping your core fast even when you let out a high pitched sound, gripping the sheets underneath you and squirming restlessly. Your legs were still shaking in spasms when he rolled your over on your back again digging his fingers into your skin, not worried about leaving marks. You looked at him and whined seeing his cocky smile, knowing that nothing good would come out of it. Sprawled like that in front of him, letting him look at every inch of your body in broad sunlight, with your head clearer thanks to the explosive orgasm you’ve just had, you let your hands cover your breasts as if helping to cover you a little. A little tingle of shame caressed your spine and you couldn’t bear to look at Jaehyun in the eyes. He smiled placing his hands on your waist and dragging your body towards him, opening your legs around his hips with a rough movement. “Are you getting embarrassed for behaving like a little slut just now, angel?” he teased you, caressing your thighs. “Let me see everything, put your hands away,” he ordered. You looked at his face for a brief moment and gulped, nervous, still very turned on but so shy at the same time.  “I said,” he lowered his voice by a few notes, making your breath quicken, “put your hands away,” he added, intimidating as never before.  His expression was lusty but dangerous and you were about to obey, but he didn’t have much patience. He came closer as lighting and grabbing your wrists, he pinned them above your head, keeping them down in an iron grip. His chest was almost touching your breasts and his cock was laying between your wet folds. Jaehyun started to slowly roll his hips and you felt him harden at every movement, twitching on your raw clit, making you jolt. You breathed on his lips, thin moans forming on your tongue, mind starting to get foggy again, your everything telling you to just let yourself go.  “Please- please I want-” you mumbled choking on your breath while his other hand traveled south, kneading your hip and pressing your leg against himself even harder. “Yes, darling?” he whispered back, pelvis moving at a slow pace, driving you crazy. “Please- I want to feel you inside,” you confessed with a tiny voice before suddenly losing all air in your lungs as he penetrated you in one go, burying himself deep inside, thrusting hard as to make your body shift on the bed sheets back and forth. “Like this, baby?” he asked with a broken voice. “You wanted this? To feel my cock stretch your sweet little pussy like this, huh?”. You tried to hum back but only high moans escaped your mouth as he was pressing so hard into you, isolating his pelvis movements as if hammering, making your toes curl and legs tighten, all of your muscles tensioned and twitching underneath his weight. “My little disobedient princess had the courage to ask for my cock? Now, you’re going to get it” he got up on his knees again, caressing your stomach then sliding down and rubbing your clit with his thumb.  You arched your back, eyes rolling back in your head, hands shifting while trying something to hold onto.  When you lifted your hips so close to coming undone yet again, he descended again, stopping with a deep thrust. Remaining still inside and holding you tight, he wrapped your body with his, squishing your breasts with his hard chest. You whined, clenching around him, so so close, please, you were so close. Against your neck, you heard him breathing heavily and chuckle before leaving wet kissed on your skin. Reaching your lips he thrust in again, pushing you into the mattress, repeating the same movement as before, knocking the air out of your lungs, making you moan as never before. You wanted him to move, you wanted him to continue to hit that sweet spot again and again until you would lose your fucking mind. But you had no force to articulate any words so you just wrapped his neck with your arms and dragged him down in your first kiss, letting your tongue communicate what you couldn’t say, whining and wincing, making him growl as you clenched around his throbbing cock while he let his hips move again until they lost rhythm.

[yn-dere]

La sorcière • Y!K.TH

Synopsis: The goddess Ashtoreth seemed to have found her worshipper.

Ship/s: Photographer!Taehyung x Antagonist/seductress!Reader

Warning/s: Angst, Yandere/Dark themes, Manipulation, Mentions of killing, Bored and mean reader.

(Note: this takes place in the late 19th century)

'It is not the quality of the desired object that gives us pleasure, but rather the energy of our appetites'

~ Charles Baudelaire, The end of Don Juan

A dejected summer, that's what it was. The suffocating air that leaves you sweltering in your corset but I am anything but, naked on my cold feet with a cigar between those gentil fingers, sluggishly looking out from my apartment window into the florid affluent streets which were once quite and reserved. The sounds of playful squabbling, the occasional delightful squeals of children, the ecstatic laughter of women did nothing to soothe that covetous feeling throbbing at the pit of my stomach. Nor did the family of stars splattered all across the dark night sky with the dazzling moon nowhere to be seen. They seemed to be mocking me with every sparkle, impersonating my woe by disappearing this second only to come back and laugh at my face. Oh well. It hurts my chest as I exhale out the smog; I forgot that I even took a drag. Not even smoke can replace that void in my lungs now.

This moment is slightly pleasant though, accompanied by the crisp breeze that blows in through the drapes, strong enough to make my locks flutter and trigger my cigar to litter on the window railing (that I'm not bothering to clean anytime soon) but not enough to take the glum away with it. The only thing that found me pleasant enough to return. And... the troubled men that found home in my cosy and welcoming bed. Neither of them were guaranteed.

Thinking about men, I glance back into the dark room to spot the man I chose for the night. Blissfully sound asleep between my covers, with a small but radiant smile adorning his regal face. He really emulated the beautiful night sky, the baby constellation spreading across his portrait in the form of les grains de beauté. The way the light reflected off of his unblemished face puts la lune to shame, almost looking as if it is it's own light source. His beauty truly was bewitching and I would've felt envious of it if I didn't know any better.

If I didn't own an enormous dressing mirror in the corner which kept reflecting the street lights back onto my eyes; it was adorned with pink crystals, fresh roses and myrtles, white feathers and burnt out incense that left behind a soft but strong scent. It truly looked like an altar for venus herself, towering over me to have me take a look at the highly sexual, supremely confident, alluring female that offers endless pleasure and a bit of... danger. At least, that's what people men see. And I agree with it. I know the expression does sound like something that would come out of Narcissus' mouth as he stares into his reflection but can you really blame me?

It's the huge impact left on me by years and years of society misjudging me as just another pretty face in the crowd. No matter how hard I worked on something, it would always be de-emphasized. All the blood, sweat and tears only to be wasted because individuals couldn't see the nimble brain past the pleasant portrait. I wanted to stand out, and I did at times but.. not in the way I wanted to. But soon enough, I began to convince myself that maybe this isn't so bad at all, and wearily...

... I accepted it.

I accepted my place in the stupid community as one of those women, a blood sucking succubus is just how they saw me to be exact. Mind you, I've never stood sturdy in any of my subjects until I slowly started to abuse my power and it made me feel competent and sure enough I felt powerful enough to destroy families, to get someone to chase me so feverishly that they lose control but I guess I was never that valuable to keep nor was I important enough for someone to actually care about me. The only difference between your pompous narrator here and a poor mistress is that I don't have a fickle of hope nor do I really care enough about a particular visitor to be left heartbroken.

It still kills me to feel impotent at the end of the day (or the start of the day, when they leave me with nothing). I feel like THE FOOL, a frail dog chasing a car....

....But as the lonely sun finally decides to set to rest and the family of stars gets more discernable with every shimmer against the dark and misty horizon; I, once again find myself repeating history as if my life's a record on the phonograph. But as one get sick of listening to the same song over and over again, there's a momentary pause... and then an appalling revelation; it's seems as though you've been singing the most important part of the song, the chorus, wrong.

And suddenly I can grasp it all..

.

.

.

You see, lust is what makes one take a glance at you. Temptation is what makes them throw caution in the air, when they know they shouldn't. But is it really enough to keep the attention on you? Is the beauty really enough for the sirens who beckon sailors to their destruction? If that was the case, wouldn't mermaids be able to do the same? Love is-

"...h-hey?"

That deep voice...

Then suddenly, lean icy fingers grabbed my arm and pulled me back into reality just when I started inching through the darkness in my mind.

Oh God. How did I not see him wake up? Especially with the mess he made in an effort to get up from the bed? One of the pillows accompanied with the sheets are on the floor... those velvet covers are really hard to wash. I will never forgive him for that.

But my irritation soon turned into embarrassment when I pondered over how crazy I must have looked, naked while just staring into my mirror with a cigar in hand. Or what was left of it, the soft ash on my fingers, my bare breasts and one of my thighs.

"Is everything a-alright?" He questioned. I looked down to his palm which was still holding my arm with a firm grip. He followed my gaze, his eyes widening slighting as he quickly let it go. "I m-mean, you were kind of dazed off or something. I thought..." he muttered after clearing his throat in a futile attempt at ceasing the stuttering. "Yeah.. I was just thinking about something" I replied as I looked up at his eyes and his orbs that were just suffering with nervousness and uncertainty were now swimming in curiosity. I couldn't help but let a giggle get past my lips. He hummed in response as his brows furrowed. "about.. this." I uttered, feigning a bashful look. His brows furrowed even further, creating small lines on his otherwise smooth forehead. "What do you mean by "this" ?" He seems to have forgotten his tense stance and the risqué side of me wanted to bring it back so I tried. "Our liaison, everything we did and...." if it weren't for the pin drop silence in the room, I would've never heard his breath hitching as he waited for me to continue. "Us." I finished with a whisper...

... After what seemed like an eternity of waiting for him to answer, my patience wore thin so I couldn't help but gently poke his chest. It surely did broke the trance he was in and the cute timid man was back. "Uh- I- uhm" he stuttered, looking at everything but my presence. I slowly started to feel the disappointment building up in the bottom of my stomach. Why do I when I didn't even expected anything else? If this is the only way it can go for me, why not have a little fun? I couldn't help but let out a smirk which I covered in a second, hoping he didn't see it. "I might be quite racy at times but I don't just do this with anyone. I thought I told you in the tavern that if you are to leave, leave already..." as soon as I finished bluffing the sadness in my voice, I casted my eyes downwards at his feet as I anticipated the same white lies but they never came. I awaited the "I will never leave you", "you're the best thing that ever happened" or my personal favorite one " I have a wife and kids that I love very dearly" but he didn't say anything. And just as I was about to look up, the smooth dark honey voice cut me off.

"And I thought I told you that I didn't want to follow you back home for whatever fleshly pleasures you had to offer.." the hint of disappointment was evident. This was a new one to add in the book, eh? "But because my precious cameras are all in vain without your figure and your lively soul.. like an empty canvas to an artist with no references or muse." My ears couldn't help but perk up as he continued, " Sure, they might not be too good at capturing the enigma that is you as the films only render in shades of grey which evidently fails to recognize the different shades of your blush and the undertones, but this is all that I have..."

It's his time to wait as I, for the first time, didn't know what to say. He opened his lips once again "I would be lying if I said I didn't gravely fell in love the second I took my first glance at you months ago. Love at first sight was never my thing but you cleared all my doubts about the idea". I wanted to mock him and tell him about how lust in first sight is a thing, not love but I rather chose to humor him. "That's what they all said..." I slowly look up at his face, looking at each and every feature carefully leaving out his mors than intense eyes. "Who are "they"?" He asked with a slight fury in his voice and the sharp edge of the words spoken almost gashed my already tainted soul. I wish I didn't faked the courage and take a glance into his orbs since I saw the immense anger and hatred through his narrowed eyes as he scrutinized my very existence. I withered uncomfortably under his glare, already regretting opening my mouth without thinking.

"You seriously didn't just compare me to those men, did you? After everything I've done? After I got rid of those hideous women that had nothing else to do but spread nasty rumours about you because the same husbands that couldn't get it up for them were lusting after you? Because they couldn't hold their husbands accountable so they were threatened by you?" He took a sharp but shaky breath before continuing, "Or after I got rid of those men who bonded over their heinous fantasies about violating you?..." I cover my mouth, I feel like throwing up. Not because I don't want to/can't believe it but because this is alot of information to take in in a few minutes. I heard him sigh and his voice suddenly changed from being gruff to soft in a second as he saw my terrified look, "you see these hands, sweetheart?" He said in a slightly coaxing voice as he laid his large hand on top of mine, "They were only used to clicking pictures of everything beautiful and developing them but now, they're stained with shed blood of anyone who dared to lay a finger on you.... You made me this way. You made me so empathetically challenged. You did this."

Me? Me...

I did this. I made him this way.

"How could you have been so blind?"

How could I have been so blind?

Maybe I didn't give myself enough credit.

And as he continued to stare into my frame with such adoration that it reminded me of what I was thinking about before he startled me by waking up...

As I was saying previously, lust is what makes one take a glance at you. Temptation is what makes them throw caution in the air, when they know they shouldn't but it's still not enough to keep the attention on you. Love is. It is the greatest weapon of all. It's the most exceptional power that you can have over someone. Making them do what they never thought they ever would do, act in ways they might've mocked previous to meeting you, taking up any space in their mind that was left for rationality and instead plaguing it with sweet obsession. Not even fear dares to compete with love when it comes to power. If anything, they go hand in hand. It truly turns a mermaid to a siren.

Wow. It's not the family of stars that I envied, who would want to look like some aliens just jizzed all over the sky? I was made to be la lune, who with all her blemishes littering her skin still stood unfazed as her admirers wrote poems about her beauty. It's not the homely women that I envied, I have always been quite sophisticated but I just wanted to belong somewhere.

I wanted power over someone or something.

And the thought of me making this man do the most vile acts of crime that humanity cannot even begin to visualize in their brains flared up the familiar feeling of ascendency and competency but this time? It was about to stay. Why? Because he is to stay.

I softly smiled at that thought and slowly held my small hands up to his face to caress his cheeks. The shyness got to him as he squeezed his eyes shut to relish in the contact without having to look at my amused face. I could feel him slowly shaking under finger tips, his face was warm unlike the rest of his body. The effect that my small gesture had on him is unlike anything I've ever seen or experienced. This isn't vulgar, this is sensual. And sure, what I feel might not be love but it has one thing in common with it. It's a drug. A high we're both on, and not even my cigar, my only companion for so long can compete with it.

Let's see how long this lasts before I drain all life out of him... or maybe, this is forever but I doubt. Then again, he- wait a minute... what's his name, again? This is going to suck. As I was saying, he does like to surprise me so let's hope for the best.

"Okay, let's just forget we met like this... hello, my name's y/n", I reached out for his hand to shake with a small smile on my face. He erupted into giggles as he took my hand, "Nice to meet you y/n, this is taehyung." Taehyung. Oh taehyung. And suddenly the cheerful atmosphere turned into something sinister as I pulled him in.

"Taehyung, I am like a raging flame.. don't be a moth and get too close or I might destroy you" I whispered in my raspy voice, the smirk that played in my rouge lips being incredibly devilish along with that red unnatural glint in my eye.

"I want to be destroyed."

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Seen ✓ - 4

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: a bit of angst and confusion. Nothing much, Word Count: 2,222  Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. A/N: Sorry for delaying this. I realized a mistake about the story and tried to find a way to fix it without having to rewrite the entire story.Time to see how she reacts huh? 

Part 1 -  Part 2 - Part 3 Masterlist

Chapter 4: i think she’s keeping ME around

Y/n | Sam

i know it doesn’t seem likely but i really can explain.

Oh, you mean how you’ve been charged with kidnapping, GRAVE desecration (which, what the FUCK dude) and FIRST DEGREE MURDER THREE FUCKING TIMES?

People say we should be careful, strangers might be murderers or rapists but who would’ve fucking thought of THIS.

I don’t know why I’m even still talking to you.

y/n wait give me five minutes.

“I just can’t fucking believe it.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back at her sister’s concerned features. “I meet one guy, one fucking guy, that I like, that I enjoy talking to, and he has the worst criminal record I’ve ever fucking seen. TV shows included.”

“What’d he-“

“And it’s not like- Credit card fraud is bad, sure, but armed robbery? What the fuck does grave desecration even fucking mean?!” she throws her hands in the air. “It’s not like he’s been caught with small theft or something, this- first degree murder? Three times?!” Y/n’s eyes well with tears, horrified at the thought she’s been talking to a possibly psychopathic serial killer for the past couple weeks. Fuck’s sake, she was dreaming of dating the guy, all the while putting herself down in comparison to him. God.

“What’d he tell you?”

Y/n looks at the multiple messages on her screen, popping up one by one, and reads them out loud.

y/n?

look i’ll do my best to explain and hope you haven’t blocked me yet.

and if you don’t answer i’ll take the hint and never contact you again i promise.

the family business i told you about? yeah. my brother and i drive around the States killing monsters.

we hunt things like ghosts (remember our conversation?) vampires werewolves demons ghouls witches just about everything you can think of.

i know how ridiculous this sounds i promise and i wish i didn’t have to tell you about this part of my life but i swear to you it’s all real.

the reason why i have a mugshot roaming around the internet is because very few people know monsters exist and as you can probably tell hunting them is ugly and awful and it entails digging up graves or killing things that resemble humans.

the cops obviously don’t know about any of it they think we’re psychopaths much like you probably do.

“He says he hunts monsters?!” Emily’s eyebrows have skyrocketed half way up her forehead. A scoff. “That’s his excuse?!”

“Wait.” Y/n’s eyebrows furrow. The cogs in her brain strain with the effort to make sense of all of this.

“You can’t tell me you’re even remotely considering it,” her younger sister states incredulously.

You hunt demons?

oh thank God.

yeah. i do.

What do they look like?

“Dude,” Emily slaps her sister’s shoulder. “What the fuck-“

“Shut up for a second.”

well human mostly? they possess people in the form of black smoke. they have black eyes and leave behind traces of sulfur.

not that i’m not ecstatic but why the hell are you still talking to me?

I believe you.

wait you do?

“You what?!” Emily’s voice grabs Y/n’s attention away from her screen. “Why the hell do you believe him?!”

oh shit.

you’ve seen one haven’t you?

My dad was killed by a demon.

I spent a lot of time with him in his antique shop, and two women with black eyes walked in one day and demanded him give them this old ass necklace that looked priceless. Dad refused because they weren’t threatening with weapons or anything. He thought they were fucking around

They threw him on the wall and strangled him without even touching him.

I was hidden behind a back door.

I found sulfur everywhere afterwards. I Googled it.

i’m so sorry you had to go through that

both my parents were killed by the same demon.

I guess we’re more alike than we thought.

i guess we are.

“Dude,” Emily grips Y/n’s bicep. “Are you high?!”

Y/n shakes her head. “He’s telling the truth, Em.” The younger girl’s eyes widen and she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry- what?” Y/n sighs. “You’re nuts.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“But-“

“Yeah, I realize how crazy this all looks like to you, but I swear to you, he’s telling the truth, and so am I. If you can’t trust him, then please, trust me.” Coffee brown eyes bore into hers and Y/n doesn’t drop her stare. She just waits for Emily’s reaction, knowing the girl is simply processing what’s happening.

“So you mean to tell me the thing with dad is true?” Her shoulder slump. “You’re not fucking around to like, not upset him in case he’s a psychopath or something?” Y/n’s chest is weighing about twenty pounds more than it is usually. It’s not a memory she enjoys revisiting and when she told the cops exactly what had happened, they told her she was probably in shock and had imagined everything. They chose not to explain the sulfur. “Monsters- they’re real?”

“Yeah,” Y/n nods. “Apparently? I didn’t know about the rest of them to be honest.

I know how crazy it sounds. But I was there, when dad died, and I know what I saw.” She knows she’s right. Every time the memory resurfaces, Y/n sees the same thing, knows for a fact the women were standing near the entrance of the shop, across which dad was tossed. The impact from his body, an impact that required superhuman strength, shattered one of his glass displays inside the shop into millions of crystal shards. Y/n tried not to scream while watching her dad glance toward her and turn all shades of blue, eventually falling limp and no longer struggling mid-air.

She knows what she saw. The women never touched her father, yet he was hurled around like a ragdoll and killed effortlessly.

Emily is silent.

“Please don’t think I’m crazy. I have no other reason to believe this kid.” Eyebrows stitched together, pursed pink lips thoughtfully caged between her teeth, Emily breathes out loudly.

“I, uh,” She licks her lips. “I’m not… invalidating your experience,” bless her, Y/n thinks. Bless her for being such a kind, incredible sister. I’m so lucky. She could’ve scoffed and called her crazy. And here she is, even without believing her, reassuring that she’s willing to listen. “But you have to understand, this is difficult for me to believe.” Words carefully picked and offered. She’s not shutting the door. Y/n couldn’t ask for anything more.

“I do. Understand.” The eldest sister toys with the strings of her sweatpants. “And if you want to talk about it, we can.” Emily shuts her eyes.

“I don’t really uh…” a hand running through her hair. “I don’t really think I can handle that conversation right now.” Y/n nods. “I uhm,” a second of silence. “I trust you though.”

“Okay,” she reassures, “Thank you.” Her instinct wants to lay a hand on her sister’s knee in comfort, but Emily isn’t a particularly affectionate person, so she chooses not to. “Do you want to… stay here? Keep watching Game of Thrones?” Emily, as if reminded of what they had been doing, looks up at the screen, Jon Snow’s screaming face zoomed in and bloody, sitting still on their small laptop. She breathes out.

“Yeah okay.”

Y/n thinks they’re done talking for tonight. She sits back and lets her sister press play on the episode, then stiffly try to relax back on the couch. There’s a blanket of awkwardness, another layer of thick tension that lays around them. But then Emily speaks one last time. “At least John Snow’s still hot,” she sighs and Y/n barks out a loud laugh. Yeah. They’re gonna be alright.

-

so we’re okay, right?

The text feels heavy. When the girls restarted watching the episode from where they’d left off, Y/n chose to ignore her phone completely, not allowing the subject to continue at all and giving her sister space from it. But now, under her covers, alone and in absolute silence, Y/n can’t seem to ignore it.

Demons? Sure, she’s seen them, she’s had time to digest it. But there’s so much more to it, so many supernatural beings out there, and it feels akin, to discovering a new genre of music; completely overwhelming. Where does she start? Does she even want to know about it? Does she get involved? It feels selfish to idly sit around, being one of the few people that are aware, while people die by this unknown threat.

And what happens with Sam? Are they okay? Why does she so badly want to say yes? A normal person would’ve run for the hills. Whether or not supernatural beings actually existed, does she really want to get involved with that world? It sounds so dangerous.

She hasn’t known Sam for long. There’s no harm in giving him another chance, right? He doesn’t know much about her, so theoretically she can walk away unscathed at any point at all. That thought comforts her enough to reply to him.

Yeah, we’re good.

His reply is so fast, and her heart gives a little flutter.

i’m really glad.

you didn’t reply and i thought you decided i’m crazy after all.

not that i’d blame you for that i’m still surprised you’re sticking around.

Yeah. Sorry about that, I had to talk some things through with my sister.

We watched Game of Thrones afterwards, and I turned off my phone.

no no it’s okay.

i have a confession to make.

I don’t know how many confessions I can handle tonight Sam. Does it have anything to do with the supernatural or any criminal activity at all?

hahah no not even close.

i just wanted to say i’m genuinely so glad you chose not to. stop talking to me i mean. right now talking to you has been the happiest part of my life.

Y/n damn near gasps. Her chest feels inflated, butterflies flapping wildly inside her. Stupid sweet talker, he’s got her wrapped around his finger.

i just

i forget how everything is falling apart around me when i talk to you.

and now that you know the truth about my… job i don’t have to lie to you either. i can be myself. that’s a welcome change.

I get that.

I can be myself around you too. You’re a bit like

A welcome break from this awful, stupid fast pace my life has. I genuinely need that.

:)

:)

They’re okay. Right? It feels like it. Her head hurts, but she wants to talk to him more. Pretend everything’s okay, pretend nothing’s happened.

So.

Whatcha up to.

research

?

my idiot brother got involved in something.

i’m trying to figure it out.

Supernatural something or just something?

supernatural something.

Ah.

Well thank God your daily entertainment is here to save the day.

what a blessing.

Aww, Sam, knew you had the hots for me ;)

don’t be so full of yourself Daily Entertainment.

You’re hilarious.

i know.

Some time passes.

Hey, Sam?

yeah?

Tell me more about you?

hang on i need a moment of introspection. a guy’s gotta prepare his speech.

Again. Hilarious.

again. i know.

Go on, old man. Stop stalling, I need to hear that speech.

…

Oh I’m sorry, is Sam Winchester offended?

do you wanna hear the damn speech?

Haha yeah, please, be my guest.

This feels good, familiar. In such a short amount of time, Sam has left a taste in her mouth, and it’s honey-like and sweet.  This banter reminds her he hasn’t changed; it’s still the same person she’s been talking to, the same guy.

well i’m sam winchester. my pre-law studies failed miserably. i haven’t slept in the same bed twice in like a month. currently my life can only be described as a train wreck. oh and i have a brother Dean whom you’re painfully aware of and is certainly not trying to stop being a pain in my ass.

am i forgetting anything?

oh yes of course. i’m talking to this really sweet girl who’s made my life a little less shitty.

A line has been crossed tonight. Sam feels it and so does she. And it doesn’t seem like either are willing to go back. Y/n’s nerves are being held taught, breath caught in the back of her throat, and every time he compliments her, she breathes a little shallower.

Damn, she sounds like a catch. Maybe you should keep her around.

i think she’s keeping ME around.

what about you? have you prepared a speech?

No but I’m relatively okay at improv.

oh well i’m listening then.

Well I’m Y/n Andrews. My life’s a different kind of wreck. My job is painfully boring, college is frustrating as all hell, and expensive enough that I’m considering dropping out. And I’m also talking to this guy that travels a lot and has to do really hard and scary things, from what I hear. He also talks very highly of me, which I genuinely don’t understand.

y/n, you’re amazing you know that?

So you keep telling me

well it’s true.

listen Dean’s back. i really have to go. sorry

Don’t worry, I should catch some sleep anyways.

We’ll talk tomorrow?

of course

Goodnight Sam :)

sleep tight Y/n :)

-

A/n 2: How did you like this chapter? Feedback is important to me, let me know what you think :)

Forevers: @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester​ @deanssweetheart23​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @mogaruke​ @superseejay721517​ @lady-hawkguy​ @thosefeelsarereal​ @superwholockmarauder​  @justiceiswater​ @petra-arkanian-1497​ @heyitscam99​ @danijimenezv​ @aj-reuth  @unicornblood4ever @mystriee​ @sadist-fangirl23 @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @superrandomnatural​ @altosaxplayer098 @winter-moons @hunterswearingplaid​ @novaddictx​ @choosemyname​  @live-like-a-girl​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @bowtomytenderaddiction​  @elara98azalea​ @lemondropirwin​ @emmagolden4118​ @glitchcypher @calaofnoldor​ @paradoxical-sleep​ @narynechan @canwenotdothis​ @suicidepanda07​ @blueaura​

Sam Taglist @kymberlytorres​ @theboykingsamwinchester​ @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes​ @captainmarvelcorps​ @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away​ @nellachain​

 Seen Taglist  @shutupiminlooove​ @sammysgirl1997​ @kymberlytorres​ @bambi95-blog​ @demonic-meatball​ @thekarliwinchester​ @littlekay15​ @li-m-ii​  @thinspo-isuppose​ @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker​ @marichromatic​ @illuminatus42​ @lazy-author​ @mirandaaustin93​ @hauntedsiriel​ @pilaxia​ @devilgirlsarah​ @nobodys-baby-now​ @captiveties​ @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream​ @burningforsam​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @vicmic624

[whump-town]

“It’s a Date”

@random-ravings this is for you... I know you asked for a full blown date night but for some reason I am unable to do it to the fullest. I also don’t know enough about romantic get away but I do hope this suffices 

“Do you trust me?”

She’s not sure what level of insanity she must have been on the other night to think that her slip up at JJ’s wedding would be forgotten by her anal rentenive boss. Low and behold, here he sits in her drive-way trying to coerce her into his black jeep with the promise of a get away looming ahead of them. Of course, the details of said adventure are hidden behind the dark shades covering his soft eyes but his warm smile is pulling her in. Despite the cold knife of trust issues reminding her that he’s only being nice because he feels bad for her. 

Not because of the way he’d held her as they danced. Or the spark that her touches sends down his spine, leaving him shuddering and reaching for more. As if she’s a cigarette to place between his teeth and draw a healthy pull off of. She’s the kindest person he knows and no matter how much distance he puts between them he craves her like nicotine in his lungs. 

He always comes back wanting more.

Behind her own sunglasses, she sizes up his jeep. It’s not really what she was expecting but when is Aaron Hotchner ever predictable? Picking up the suitcase at her ankles, she shakes her head finally coming to answer the question he’d proposed upon placing the car in park. An inquiry on trust. She trusts him with her life-- with her heart-- but she doesn’t risk the reaction the truth has. “About as far as I can throw you,” she grumbles with an eye-roll and a smirk she can’t contain.

The soft chuckle that leaves his mouth has her head jerking, frowning at the sound she hasn’t heard enough of to consider he’d made it. Her reaction only makes the smile on his face grow and she stands for a loaded second just basking in the warmth that placing that smile on his face gives her. She has to shake her head to pull her thoughts back to the problem at hand-- Hotch and whatever trick he has up his sleeve. 

“So,” she tosses her bag in the back beside one that’s identical to her own. Out of habit, she bites her tongue instead of observing that ‘great minds think alike’. If Reid were here he’d conclude ‘fools seldom differ’. Hotch might not come to that same conclusion but it’s too late to tell. “Where are we going?”

Hotch takes a moment to respond. He puts the car into reverse, pulling out of her driveway in a swift but solid motion. It’s easy to forget that Hotch really is a good driver-- even if he spends a lot of government hours bashing the cars he’s driving into UNSUBs. He has a lack of regard when it comes to his own life. 

She wonders why.

“We’re on vacation time,” comes his answer, a strange crooked, care-free nature to the smile he flashes her way. There’s something youthful about it. She imagines he used to be like this all time. Quick with a joke and lighthearted before the job weighed him down. 

She nods, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth to worry at it. He hasn’t told her much about the excursions besides to dress for the weather and to bring a nice outfit for a fancy dinner. The amount of things that could mean worries her more than she’d like to admit.

He catches sight of the anxious frown she settles on his dash and decides that the gig is up. Besides, how much fun can his plans be if she’s not equally as excited? He clears his throat, “there’s this B&B that JJ always gushes about--”

Emily’s eyes light up, “The Monty House?”

He chuckles at her clear excitement. Her voice had gone up, softening considerably like the way Jack might shout-out when offered a bowl of ice cream before bed. If he’d known it would be this easy to make her happy he might have done this silly little trip a long time ago.

Actually, that is a lie. His nerves have been wracked for the better part of the last week since he made the reservation. There’s no way he could have done this without the prompting of both her ‘It’s a date’ and the dance they shared at JJ’s wedding. 

Admittedly, he can be a bit of a coward but his heart is pretty damaged. He’s not sure he can handle Emily stomping on it.

Judging from the smile lighting up her face though, heart stomping isn’t on the agenda. In fact, she could kiss him.

“Yeah.” His shoulders relax as the tension leaves his body in the nervous chuckle he lets out. His hands get some blood back as his grip on the wheel loosens, his poor knuckles returning to a fleshy tone instead of bone white. “The-The Monty House,” it feels good to have that off his chest. “The whole weekend.” Of course, he won’t tell her everything he has planned. No point in spoiling the whole weekend.

He finds himself smiling. How does she do that to him? Twist his stomach in knots with her silence and then have him smiling so hard his face hurts the next second.

“Does that mean we’re stopping for road snacks?”

There are few instances when they drive to crime scenes but on occasion a crime only warrants sending two agents. It’s no secret that on those particular occasions, he prefers going with Emily. She’s comfortable in their joined silence unlike Reid who anxiously fills it. There’s no pressure to talk about his personal life like with Dave who’s endless lines of question never seem to stop. 

With Emily there is  just… ease.

And snacks. Lots of snacks.

“Check the glove compartment,” he says with a smile. He knew she’d need refreshments even for a simple two and a half-hour road trip. He knows a lot about her actually.

She raises an eyebrow and, sure enough, she finds his glove compartment filled with snacks. There’s a red gatorade along with the SweetTart Ropes, Sunchips, and Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwich. It’s the kind of  thing that looks like a thoughtless addition. Red gatorade is a straightforward go to drink but she knows it’s more than that. It’s the only gatorade she likes and he knows that.

Just like he knows her favorite chips are Sunchips and that she thinks PB&Js are a timeless classic. 

“Aaron Hotchner,” she smiles at the little collection of snacks in her lap. “You’re the sweetest man I have ever met.” 

Hotch feels his face get impossible hot, despite the cool air coming in through the window beside his head. He can’t look at her because he knows she’ll see the blush and the last thing he needs is giving her that power. Not when he’s got a whole weekend to spend with her and countless opportunities to bring up him blushing like a schoolgirl over a compliment. He clears his throat, “uhm, thank you.”

Fifteen minutes in and she’s already getting the better of him… good God how are the next two hours going to pan out?

“Good God!”

Her sudden outburst causes him to jump in his seat. The car doesn’t jerk or accelerate but he’s good and jostled from the comfort he’d settled in. He looks over at her, eyebrows going up as he realizes she’s looking at him. “What?”

Oh.

She looks smacked with worry, the kind that he knows isn’t going to go away easily. “When was the last time you slept?” 

There’s always the option to play dumb but from his experiance attempting to pull one over on Dave-- it’s very unbecoming. He can always tell the truth but that’s about as good of an idea as leveling his loaded service weapon to his temple. He could meet her half-way. Exclude all bits involving Beth-- that she’d broken up with him after JJ’s wedding. Something she’d been thinking about doing anyways but after seeing him with Emily there were things she, evidently, couldn’t avoid.

But he’s still got to explain how that was nearly a week ago. 

He clears his throat, pulling his sunglasses back into place-- hiding the evidence. “Uhm,” he’s really bad at buying himself time and each second that passes means another moment she’s going to weigh whatever lie he comes up with. So he settles for a truth, just not all of it. “You’re not the only one who’s had a bad week.”

There’s a soft moment of contemplative silence shared between them as Emily considers exactly what that means. It sounds straightforward enough but Hotch is admitting to something being wrong and that’s not as simple as one plus one is two. 

“Do you…” she licks her lips, unsure of exactly what it is she should do. She knows what he would say to her but the giving and taking of their relationship hasn’t been set up. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

He grimaces at that offer but he realizes that’s unfair of him. He’s asked her to admit to him when she needs help. To her credit, she has on multiple occasions. So, it’s wrong to ask that of her and then put up his walls. This is no easier for her than it is for him.

“You wanna make another deal?” she asks. She reaches over and pokes him in the side with one of her candies, smiling when she bites into it. He raises an eyebrow at her, shaking his head. No matter how much time he spends with her… she never ceases to confuse and exasperate him. Even now, chewing on candy and trying to pry into his mind. “If I have to tell you when I’m having a bad day, you have to tell me.” 

He grunts, raising his eyebrows but turning his attention to the road. He hates that idea. He can’t and won’t lie about that but is that not the same ultimatum he gave her? The instances are fundamentally different-- the trauma she was reeling from was fresh in all of their minds and he could be a sympathetic ear to that. Especially, if hearing about the worst parts of her day granted her a longer stay with them.

With him.

Now, it’s a little different. The things he needs to tell her about are a lot more personal. It’s not about the connection of Foyet and Doyle-- the sheer thought of which sends a cold chill down his back. Now if she wanted to talk about that he would still be adamant but, at least, it would be helpful. 

“Aaron?”

He snaps away from his thoughts, having worked up a slight cold sweat from the directions of his thoughts. He shouldn’t be thinking about Foyet. That won’t help anyone. With a shake of his head he stutters a confirmation to her idea. “Uh-Yeah, s-sure.”

His eyes are on the road but he’s about a million miles away. He just keeps thinking about Foyet. 

Emily’s not sure what to do. 

Hotch is her friend. In many aspects, her best friend and as jouveline as those words are often made to sound she means it in the most sincere way. She trusts him with her life and beyond that, in ways that she’s not yet encountered. She means that when she comes to a crossroads in her life he is always there. 

Just like now, as she grapples with the decision to leave for London or stay. He’s her right-hand man and… now, she’s uncertain as to how she should repay that. 

Of how she can. 

It feels like an endless pit separating them. She starts there.

He’s driving with his left hand, leaving the right to rest limply in his lap while the other’s knuckles turn white with the tension his whole body is failing to hide. Silently, she reaches over and nudges his forearm with her hand. He scowls down at her hand, confused but he caves and moves his it.

He huffs a little when she takes his hand. Surprised more than anything else. The only hand he’s held in years is Jack’s and, even now, Jack’s getting too big for that. 

“I do mean it,” she says, giving his fingers a tentative squeeze. “You’ve heard all my stories. You know all my drama…” She smiles, just thinking about it. “I think I can handle what little drama Aaron Hotchner encounters in his day to day life.” 

He chuckles at that. It’s a good point. His life isn’t chocked full of twists and turns. Jack has some interesting moments-- mostly his bully turned best friend Paul. She already knows about that though. That leaves nothing really. What’s he so afraid of?

“Alright,” he relents, returning her gentle squeeze. He clears his throat, “but can we talk about it later? After--”

She cuts him off, “we can talk about it whenever you feel comfortable.”

Something in his chest settles and he relaxes. He doesn’t notice until several minutes later but he doesn’t pull his hand away from hers.

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

They were supposed to get two rooms but that’s too much to ask for and they end up in a room with two twin size mattresses an arms length away. Neither are that worried with the proximity. As far as sleeping arrangements go, this is still better than about 90% of the hotels they’ve stayed in over the years.

The problem is what might haunt them at night.

The last thing Emily wants is to wake Hotch up in the middle of the night thrashing like a heathen possessed but the freaking devil because her subconscious loves to taunt her with Ian Doyle. 

Talk about making things awkward between them.

It doesn’t seem to bother Hotch though. The first thing he does upon putting their bags at the ends of their beds is collapse onto a bed. He doesn’t move for a solid five minutes, just lays on his stomach, face down. She’s starting to worry about him-- hoping he’s just managed to fall asleep and not dead-- when he groans and sits back up. 

He runs a hand through his bedhead and Emily has to look away-- damn, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is. 

“You up for anything on this itinerary?” 

She can’t turn around because she's very aware of the fact that he’s standing right behind her. He offers her the booklet and she takes it, unable to breathe until he takes a step back. She can hear the sound his five o’clock shadow makes as he scratches at his chin and-- good God give her a freaking break her heart can’t take this. 

“Uhm,” she keeps her eyes trained on the paper but for the life of her she can’t focus on the words. She just keeps thinking about the fact that Aaron Hotchner is about a foot away looking drowsy and soft. He looks like he’s dead on his feet. “Why don’t we just get dinner and go to bed early?”

As much as he wants to just agree with her and call it a night-- he’s adamant that she actually wants that. “Are you sure?”

She nods, “yeah. You’re tired--”

He stands, shaking his head. “No,” he tells her. “We’re here so that you can relax. I can handle whatever it is that you want to do.” He takes the booklet back, flipping through it and looking down the list. He scowls in concentration and she finds it endearing but also hardheadily aggravating. 

“Hotch, I mean it.”

He finds one and points at it, asking, “how about a massage?”

She rolls her eyes. “Aaron,” she says, folding the booklet up despite his light attempts to tell her no. “I just want to eat some dinner and go to bed.” 

He deflates a little… he wants her to have a fun time and he feels like she’s giving that up because of him.

“I mean it.” She starts to pull at her hair, raking her fingers through her thick hair to work it into a ponytail. “Besides,” she says, “JJ said they have a killer grilled cheese and I’ve been dying to find out if that’s true.”

That he believes. 

So they have grilled cheese in the room, passing small talk back and forth. Emily finds Jurassic Park on the TV and at nine thirty when he turns his bedside light off, he reassures she’s fine to leave her own. Even if it makes her feel pretty silly that she’s managed to get herself worked up over a PG-13 movie from the 90s. 

She is fighting her own fitful sleep when she hears the soft sound he makes from the other bed. Everytime she closes her eyes Ian Doyle is right there. Blood seeps between his teeth and, this time, Hotch is there too. Ian draws a knife close to Hotch’s throat, it’s bared for easy access by the tight grip Ian has on Hotch’s hair. 

She wakes just as the blade draws blood. 

Judging from pained grunt Hotch lets out, her demons aren’t the only ones coming out tonight. 

“Hotch?” She’s not entirely sure what she should do. Hotch’s hearing has been on the mend for the better part of five years. It’s not his strongest sense-- they’d all found better ways to his attention than calling out his name but right now waving a hand at him or throwing a piece of crumpled paper isn’t going to get the job done. 

“Hotch!”

She stumbles back as he sits bolt upright, his breathing ragged. For a moment, she sits stunned on her bed. Watching as he looks down at the comforter across his legs, unable to place where he is. She can hear his breathing become more distressed, a wheezing groan tearing from his mouth as he raises his head to look around.

“Hotch?”

His left hand comes up to his chest, clenching his t-shirt tight in his fist. He’s steadily working himself up. 

She stands up, calling his name softly again and frowning when he doesn't look at her. “Aaron,” she hesitates just a step from the bed. He looks up just as she stops, tears streaming down his face, and she can’t bear the sight. “Oh, sweetie.” She climbs into his bed and pulls him into a hug. He shakes in her arms and her heart breaks for him. 

He always stops and checks up on her but… what has he been hiding from them to let things get this bad?

“So, we’ve both been having some bad days.” She buries her face into his shoulder, breathing in the steady and warm scent of Hotch. She’s unable to pick apart the distinct parts of the way he smells. There’s aftershave and deodorant but also laundry detergent and… he smells the way home does. Distinct and safe. She’d know him if she were blind and deaf and scared out of her mind. 

Aaron. 

He leans into her touch but the way she holds him isn’t making it easier to breathe. Her fingers spread out on his neck, working against the way his hair grows to scratch as his scalp. He feels himself melting into her and in return, she does the same.

They’re just a puddle of humans. Welded together. Neither is able to escape the hold of either. She’s practically sitting in his lap and, in return, he’s wrapped a leg around her back. 

“Why weren’t you sleeping?” he asks, voice muffled by her shirt. He’s settled back down, able to pull in a steady stream of oxygen. It doesn't get caught in his throat. What it’s doing is letting the exhaustion creep back into his bones. He’s too weary to rest. 

Emily pauses just long enough to realize that there’s no way he’s going to believe her if she says anything besides the truth. At the same time… “Who said I wasn’t,” she whispers, wincing at just how much her voice betrays her. She moves and presses her face into his shoulder, squeezing her eyes tight with the false hope he’ll let it go. 

She can feel the way he tenses, regardless of the fact that he doesn’t believe her. 

There’s still a small inkling in the back of his mind that says-- you woke her up. 

“Nightmares,” she finally answers. His fingers spread across her back, thumb trailing spine. “Doyle--” she hates the way he tenses at the mention of the other man’s name. She’d done everything to protect them and all she’d done was hurt them worse. She certainly made things worse for him. Forced him to lie to the only family he has to protect her-- a woman who lied about her career and entered his team to blackmail him.

But he eases after a moment. He rubs his hand up her back, offering her the same comfort she’d extended. 

She sinks into his chest. “Doyle was going to kill you,” she whispers. Her tears run hot and he can feel through his shirt. 

He presses a kiss to her hairline. He holds her to him, shaking his head. “It’s alright now,” he promises, throat thick. He’s painfully reminded of his own dreams. Waking up and having to scrub his hands in the sink to reassure himself that his subconscious has just been very unkind. That her blood is not caked under his nails. 

That she’s home.

Sleeping.

Alive. 

He wonders how many cadets the two of them could scare away. Tell a room full of kids-- that’s what she was when she was scouted out of college-- that taking that oath means more than they’re currently able to give. It’s the nine stab wounds on his chest. It’s talking serial killers down from suicide even when as they stand to realize the world would be a better place if they through with it. It’s demons that you can never really get away from.

“Can we just…” she wants to ask him to just hold her. To spend the night like this. She loses her nerve. Swallowing thickly around the tightness in her throat, she leans back from his shoulder. There’s only an inch of space between their faces. Her hands reach for him on it’s own accord, her thumb tracing his jawline. 

“Emily,” he whispers, his eyes moving back and forth between hers. Unable to figure out what he should do. 

She looks down at his lips, her cheeks burning. 

“I-I don’t want you to do anything you might regret,” he manages, eyes giving away the vulnerability behind the statement.

She kisses him. It’s a hungry, desperate kiss that he leans into. “Something like that?” she asks a moment later.

He nods, unable to find words. 

“Can we just lay here,” she asks. “Will you just hold me?”

He nods, can’t trust his voice. 

She trusts him though. She falls asleep in his arms. 

He lays there for the longest time. Her head is tucked under his chin and, even in her sleep, she’s holding his hand. 

The ceiling turns. 

His anxiety is creeping up but each time he gets to the point of hyperventilation she moves a little in her sleep. 

She doesn't know what she’s getting herself into.

She’s not going to love him.

Not for long.

“Aaron?” She blinks and pulls the blanket up to their chins. “Go to sleep.”

[angelkurenai]

Imagine trying to tell to your best friend, Sam, that you are dating his brother, Dean.

“Alright, first of all I want you to know that I wasn't planning for this. Not for it to happen this way. If it were up to me, if things were different, you would be the first one to know. You're a brother to me, that goes without a doubt, and your opinion matters incredibly much to me just as your approval. But then Cas had to find out a-and I need to do this fast. I didn't want it to go like this, not this rushed. I wanted to tell you everything in the right time. I wish I had more time to think this through so that then I knew what to tell you. But I have neither of it and I have to do this, which is certainly not helpful at all in stopping me from rambling or keeping my nerves under control o-or my mind in an order because I'm struggling so hard to find a way to say this here and now and-” you had no idea if you took a single breath during all those words but if it wasn't for Sam cutting you off then you would have certainly turned a nice shade of blue.

“Whoa whoa! Slow down. Slow down (Y/n)!” Sam raised his hands in front of him to calm you down and to halt your rambling which was only gaining speed “And take a deep breath, ok? Deep breath.” he nodded his head as you did as told “Alright, I- I may be struggling to follow with all this rambling b-but it's... ok, I guess? It's ok if I'm not the first one to know, I don't mind really. You are a sister to me and you know it so I'm- I'm just glad that you wanted to tell me first either way.” he shrugged softly, offering you a sympathetic and encouraging smile “Even if I- I honestly have no idea what you really want me to know.”

“Glad. Well-” you mumbled to yourself and laughed a bit, fidgeting with your fingers “Let's see for how long that is.”

“What?” he asked but you shook your head.

“Nothing. I was just saying that-” you cleared your throat “Well, I wanted to tell you in a different way but I don't have any time so I guess I'll just have to roll with it and hope for the best.”

“(Y/n)” he brows furrowed together “Are you... ok? Is something going on that you wish you really didn't have to tell me at all? Because I- I'm starting to get worried here to be honest. Is it... bad?”

“Oh no! No, no. Of course not.” you shook your head fast “It's not. It's-” you paused, frowning in thought “Well, I guess depending on how you see it?”

“...Alright?” he gave you a funny look “Then go ahead.”

“I'm trying, really. It's- it's really not bad if you think about it. And I would tell you one way or another, it's just that at the moment I'm having a hard time.”

“Oh well-” he smiled, relaxing “If it's not bad then why hesitate? Come on, just tell me.”

“Yes, I will, but I want you to remember that this wasn't exactly a choice so before you go on saying things that come to your mind, or- or make a scene, remember: this is how I feel happy.”

“Yes, (Y/n), I will remember it.” he nodded his head, ever patient with you “Now, are you going to tell me?”

“I am. I am! Don't pressure me! But-” you raised a finger “You said it yourself, ok?”

“I did! Now just say it, it's not that hard. You have words to-”

“I have a boyfriend.” you spilled, faster than your own mind could comprehend the words let alone his “I- I have a boyfriend. For the past six months and haven't told you.”

A small moment of silence followed, or maybe it was a very long one? You didn't know. Couldn't tell. All you knew was that you were holding your breath as Sam kept your gaze. But he didn't say anything. Wether it was because he was waiting for you to say more – which was the part you weren't ready about – or was taking that in, you didn't know.

“Is that... it?” he asked after a long time.

“Yes- Well, no. There's more b-but that's a big part.”

“That's just- That's great then!” he grinned “That's good, it's- I don't get why you are so worried about- Wait, he's a good guy, right? He's not, like, some monster or anything? Which isn't necessarily a bad thing either, if- if he cares about you and loves you and everything.”

“No, no. No he's not.” you shook your head fast enough “He's human, a hunter actually.”

“Then I- I don't get why you're acting like this.” he actually ended up laughing, not that it helped in your situation in the least bit “You got me really scared there and all you wanted to tell me was that you have a boyfriend? (Y/n), I may be like your big brother but that doesn't mean I'm going to- to make a scene over something like this! That's more like Dean's thing. You'll have to be more careful with telling him that.” he shrugged “Besides, you're a grown woman and make your own choices, why should I-”

“No, wait, I'm not done yet. As I said, that was part of what I wanted to say.” you said and he nodded his head wit a soft “Oh” going serious and focused back on you once more as you grew more nervous “There's something else that is just as important if not more. I didn't know how to tell you and that's why I wanted to prepare for it. I wasn't sure if-”

“Just rip off the band-aid, (Y/n).”

“Dean is my boyfriend.” and rip it you did after all.

“Put the band-aid back on.” he mumbled, shock far too evident on his face to let you laugh.

“Sammy, listen please, I-”

“Dean? Dean?!” he nearly exclaimed but stopped himself before his brother could hear because his room wasn't that far away “My brother Dean?”

“Y-yes, Dean. Your brother Dean. We've- I've had feelings for him for so long a-and he confessed he's always felt the same and we- we decided to give it a try a-and I've honestly never been happier before, Sammy. And I feel that so is he.” you said with a somewhat nervous smile but Sam's face remained almost blank, as if he had a hard time grasping your words.

“Dean?” he repeated, like a broken record “You're dating Dean? Of all people- Dean? How?!”

His words made you frown, your hopes fluttering a bit but you didn't get the chance to respond because someone else did before you. Namely-

“Wow thanks for the support Sam. Got real faith in your brother that he's going to make your best friend happy I see.” the older Winchester walked inside the room, sitting right next to you and taking one of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.

“Alright, first; no PDA please. Of any kind. I'm still trying to wrap my head around this and you're not helping. And second; I have faith in you. But I also had faith in (Y/n) that she was in her right mind to- to be in a relationship with someone-someone normal, someone- Someone that's not you!” he nearly exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

“Seriously Sam?” Dean gave his brother a look “This is what you have to say about finding out that your brother and best friend are happy together? Are you going to go ahead and scare (Y/n) with ways about how I can possibly be a terrible boyfriend or something?”

“I could and I will. Because as her best friend it's my job to but-”

“What the hell Sam?” Dean's eyes widened “I was joking!”

“I wasn't.” Sam shrugged before shaking his head “Look, it's not easy for me to accept this you get it right? I'm not against. You're grown people of course you do what you want to. But I-” he huffed, rubbing his eyes before meeting your eyes again “All this time I've seen you both as siblings and I- I thought that that's how you saw each other too! I- I didn't even expect this, how am I supposed to just take it like any other news? I thought-”

“Whoa Sammy-” Dean actually laughed “If you thought that I saw (Y/n) as a sister from the start then you're actually more innocent than I thought.” he took a sip of his beer, mostly to keep himself from grinning even more widely. Not that he already wasn't.

Sam's eyes narrowed and his lips parted but no words came out for a couple seconds. In the end he shook his head “You know what? I don't even want to know. I'm trying my damn hardest to not picture you hugging her in any other way but strictly brotherly.”

At this Dean just snorted, earning a look from you and a kick on his foot underneath the table “I'm sorry. Really, I'm sorry. I know this is a... serious matter, but now I have to ask- Do you really think holding hands is all we're doing, Sammy?”

“Oh for the love of, Dean!” Sam exclaimed, making a face as he shook his head.

“That'll be enough.” you said more calmly to your boyfriend before turning to look at Sam, your worries spiking a bit “Look, we-” you let a soft sigh “We thought... that you were going to be happy for us. We understand it was unexpectedb-but we love each other and we are the happiest we've ever been together. Aren't you- aren't you happy for us?”

“No” he breathed out after the briefest of pauses “No, I mean- You're my family, of course I am happy for you. If this is what you want then I'm fully supportive even if it took me by surprise, I truly am.” his words and sincere smile managed to calm you down, making you see that he wasn't opposed to any of it but more like confused and shocked.

“Yeah you really look like it, Sam.” Dean scoffed and you rolled your eyes at him.

“No, no it's not that. It's just-” he sighed, throwing his arms in the air “Well, you're my brother, Dean, and you know I'm happy and supportive and all but uhm, let's be honest, what do you know about romance? I'm not saying you're bad but... yes, you are really bad at it. And before you say anything, being covered in werewolf blood and asking (Y/n) out for a date is not called romantic.”

“Really?” Dean asked in all seriousness before shaking his head “Oh ok, well, I can learn. We have an entire lifetime to spend together.” he looked at you with a cheeky smile that one way or another drew a grin from you as well.

“Sap.” you giggled, actually giggled and Sam had to blink several times to believe the way you looked at each other.

“Only for you.” he smiled even more.

It was only after a good couple seconds of Sam looking back and forth between the two of you, taking in the love-struck faces and the heart-eyes that he realized he's had enough and coughed loudly to get back your attention. “As I was saying-” he huffed “I'm happy for you but uhm how do I say this? Long-time relationship? You suck. You suck at it Dean. I hope you prove me wrong, I really do, but it's a fact. It's because I can't believe why (Y/n) likes you in that way that surprised me more, you totally suck.”

“No that would be her job actually.” Dean said with a knowing smirk, glancing at you.

“Is it the right time to say 'And I swallow also.' or should I really not bring up last night at al-”

“Alright!” Sam clapped his hands once, his eyes having gone wide, too much embarrassed to notice the way you and Dean tried to hide your laughter “You know what?” he got up from his chair as if it was on fire “Forget what I said. It's clear. It's crystal clear. You're obviously perfect for each other. You were made for each other! Just-” he looked around nervously “Try to- to not make that kind of comments in front of me a-and try to keep it low. Yeah, that more than anything else. I'm-” he cleared his throat “I'm out of here. I gotta be- As soon as possible.”

It didn't take longer than three seconds before Sam was gone that you both burst in laughter. Dean's hands were instantly on you and his lips kissing your face all over.

“That didn't go as bad as I thought it would.” he said in between kisses.

“Are you kidding me? It went perfect! It couldn't have gone any better, Dean.” you grinned against his lips “I guess save for the mini heart-attack we gave him in the end.”

“Mhm” he hummed, licking your lower lip “Now that you mentioned it... It wouldn't hurt to turn a joke into reality, would it?”

“And what will I get in return?” you raised an eyebrow.

Dean's smile only widened “I can get creative.”

[softspiderling]

put in love and don’t give up | t.h.

Summary: honestly, you never pegged Tom for the kind of guy that ghosts people, but here you are. Ghosted.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: Harder by Jax Jones feat. Bebe Rexha

Author’s Note: it’s been a hot minute since I last posted a fic and bc @afangirlwashere made me feel bad for not posting shit, I’m back on my update schedule for now. This is somewhat based on a dream I’ve had about tom I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: angst, I guess? Also cursing probably

Word Count: 2,4k

gif is not mine!

It’s not like Tom owes you anything.

You went out for a couple of dates and apparently it just wasn’t working out for him. Even though you had thought that the dates were pretty great; you’re interested in the same things, your goals in life are similar and you’re just- on the same wavelength. Or that’s what you had thought.

YOU: Trying to take care of the mess that is my flat but instead I’m on my couch procrastinating by watching a bunch of YouTube videos.

YOU: Someone should take away my phone.

The timestamp on the text tells you that it’s been a whole two weeks since he read it. At first you thought he was busy and he’d text you back when he got the time, but you never received any reply. You had thought about double texting him, maybe he hadn’t replied because the text you had sent didn’t involve a question that’d get him to reply, but if Tom had wanted to keep texting you, he would have found an answer that kept the conversation right? So you fought the urge to send another text, but that didn’t stop you from staring at the texts every now and then when you had the time.

You even tried calling him, but that was just as fruitless; for a minute, you were worried that something had happened to him, but later that day Tom had posted a story from him and Sam at a pub. So he was fine, it’s just you that seemed to have been the problem.

But that’s fine.

You can handle rejection, that’s something you had to get used to when it came to dating in your twenties, but you never would have pegged Tom as a person who would ghost someone instead of just outright telling you that he doesn’t like you as much as you like him. But you really thought he did, with the way he was smiling at you and the interest he had showed in your degree.

It sounds cheesy but you thought he was different. Even though his job kind of scared you off at first, you couldn’t help yourself but fall for the sweet and down to earth guy he still managed to be despite his fame.

With a sigh, you exit out of the text chain and pull up your grocery list, eyes scanning the items in your cart. You’re only missing the milk and butter.

Pushing the cart towards the dairy section, you slide your phone back into the pocket of your jacket and keep your eyes open for your brand of milk, when raucous laughter pulls your attention to the corner where the dairy section meets the frozen section.

Curiously you lean over to find the source of the noise, only to see two familiar looking boys.

Harry, one of Tom’s younger brothers and Tuwaine, one of his best friends joking around next to their carts. You had gotten to know them when Tom invited you out for drinks with them. Another reason that confused you as to why he would introduce you to his brothers and friends if he wasn’t that into you.

“Hey guys,” you greet them, lifting your hand to wave at them awkwardly. Harry’s head perks up when he hears your voice and he smiles goofily at you, while Tuwaine returns the wave as they take a few steps towards you, their sides constantly colliding as if they are unable to walk straight.  

“Hey Y/N,” Harry says, stuffing his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heel of his feet. “Doing the weekly shopping?”

You nod and gesture towards your cart and its content. “Yeah, uh, just the basic stuff,” you said, narrowing your eyes when you glance into their carts.

“And you’re shopping for a party…?”

“What?” Tuwaine furrows his brows and turns back to look into his cart before turning back to you with a grin.

“No, it’s our basic stuff.”

“Christ,” you wince. “I really hope you’re going to the dentist regularly. I am pretty sure this amount of popsicles isn’t healthy.”

The boys shrug with laughter. “How have you been?” Harry wants to know and you give him a gentle smile.

“Fine. University’s keeping me busy. How are you guys?” you ask, hesitating. “How’s Tom?”

Tuwaine clears his throat awkwardly and Harry jabs his friend in the ribs with a glare. Your cheeks color; their awkwardness and embarrassment confirmed your fear.

So Tom is really ghosting you.

“We’re good. And Tom- he’s busy, working all the time, you know how he is,” Harry says, stumbling over his words.

“Do I though?”

The gentleness in your voice catch the boys off guard and Tuwaine rubs the back of his neck, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

Wow, what on earth moved you to even approach them? This is probably the most awkward situation you’ve ever put yourself into.

“Tom’s being an idiot,” he finally offers. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You grimace, appreciating his words but it still stings. But doesn’t rejection always sting? But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Tom didn’t even give you the courtesy of a rejection he just straight up started ignoring you.

Waving it off, you smile crookedly at him.

“It’s fine. He’s fine.”

You gesticulate wildly with your hands, to show them how fine it is. Judging by their expressions, it certainly doesn’t seem to convince them. Stilling your hands, you exhale softly.

“I’m not mad or anything,” you then sigh, defeated. “I’m just a little bit disappointed. But I’ll get over it, you guys don’t need to worry about it or anything.”

You thrum your palms against the handle of the cart, smacking your lips together. “Well, this has been enough awkwardness for today. Uhm, I’ll see you guys around?”

Leaving the question hanging in the air, you shoot them a tentative smile; their chorused “Bye Y/N!”s make you sigh. As you turn around the corner, you hear them squabbling and you strain your ears to find out, what it is about.

“Congrats Tuwaine, this was probably the most uncomfortable situation I’ve ever had.”

“What are you looking at me for? It’s not my fault! If it’s anyone’s, it’s Tom’s!”

There’s a pause and you can hear someone sigh.

Then:

“I know it is. He’s just scared, you know how important his privacy is to him. Maybe Harrison can talk to him when he gets back. But I get it though, he’s-“

You almost bump your cart into an old lady, too busy trying to eavesdrop their conversation.

“Young lady!” The lady sends you a menacing glare and you apologize half-heartedly, too distracted by what you’ve just heard.

What was Harry talking about? What did he mean when he said that Tom was scared? You’re confused, you thought you had a clear picture of why he had stopped texting you. Lost in thoughts, you make your way to the check out, and put your groceries on the counter to get rung up.

By the time you get home you still haven’t figured out what it was that Tom is scared of and you almost break your brain trying to think of a logical explanation.

As you’re lying in bed that night, you come to the conclusion that you might never find out what Harry was talking about and see no point in obsessing over something that you are unable to change, so you push the matter in the far back of your mind, hoping that you would soon forget about it. But that is easier said than done, right?

Over the weekend you try your hardest to forget about the encounter with Harry and Tuwaine, stopping your brain from trying to find a solution to Tom’s problem you know nothing about and it’s harder than you thought it would be.

Even your readings for your business class seem to be offering basically no distraction whatsoever, which is why you find yourself at a small café down the street Sunday afternoon. With the sunlight filtering through the window, throwing the busy café in a shade of warm orange, you sit by the window with your text marker, scanning your assigned readings and occasionally marking a passage or two.

“I’m sorry, Miss?”

You look up from your text, your vision a little blurry before finally recognizing the barista standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“We’re closing in five minutes,” she tells you and your eyes widen as you take in your surroundings. You’ve been so engrossed in the article you’ve been reading, you hadn’t realized how late it has gotten: the lights have long been turned on in the café and you’ve noticed that all the chairs and tables have been cleared except of the one you’re currently occupying.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you apologize and scramble your documents together, stuffing them in your bag.

“It’s no problem, really,” the barista gives you a warm smile. “Have a nice evening.”

You shoulder your bag and send her a small wave as you headed through the door.

“Thanks! You too!”

The darkness from outside catches you by surprise and you pull your cardigan tighter around your chest, starting your walk back home. Hearing your stomach grumble, you’re reminded of the lack of food your day has brought and while you turn the corner to your flat, you try to come up with a quick meal with the ingredients you know you have at home.

Rummaging in your bag for your keys as you get closer to your building door, you finally manage to grasp the small fluffy key chain from the depth of your bag and lift your head. That’s when you see Tom sitting on the steps that lead up to the door.

You still and he jumps up, dusting off his pants. He looks tired, the denim jacket was slung tightly around his torso and you’re pressing your lips together before slowly taking a few steps towards him.

“Hey,” you greet him wearily. “What are you doing here?”

Tom rubs the back of his neck. “Hi Y/N. I, uh-“ he gestures towards the steps he’s just been sitting on. “I’ve been waiting for you uh, here. Been here for a while actually. “

“Oh. Why didn’t you call?”

He ducks his hand and his hands disappear into the pockets of his denim jacket. “Wasn’t sure if you’d pick up.”

You look at him with an unreadable expression and the keys dangle from your hand as you unlock the door, keeping it open with the heel of your shoe.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask, and he nods before following you inside and to your flat. He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you close your door behind you and take off your shoes, before moving to your couch, immediately taking refuge under your fluffy blanket.

Tom on the other hand looks like he’s out of place as he stands in the middle of the room, his eyes darting around.

The tension between you two is palpable and even though you know it’s his turn to speak, you’re aware that he’s fighting to bring his thoughts into words.

“You know you didn’t have to come all this way to do this, right?” you finally say, clasping your hands together.

“To do what?”

“I got the hints, Tom and I also rant into Harry and Tuwaine the other day. You’re here to let me down easy,” you say, pulling your knees close to your torso and he gapes at you, slowly moving to sit on the couch, though the distance between you is still there.

“What? No! That’s not why I’m here, why-“ He breaks off, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “What did they tell you?”

You shrug. “That I didn’t do anything wrong and that you’re an idiot?”

“Well, I am an idiot,” Tom admits. “But not for the reason you think, I promise Y/N.”

“So you’re not here to break things off with me?”

He shakes his head and carefully reaches out to touch your hand which is resting on top of your knee. Your pinkie twitches and you eye his fingers inching slowly towards yours, but you don’t move your hand away. Tom takes your hand in his and looks at, his brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry I ignored you,” he says quietly. “It just… It’s so hard dating someone when you work in the movie industry. The media has no respect for your privacy and I really didn’t want to put you in harm’s way, especially with all the people who are weirdly insisting on me and Z being a couple-.”  

You didn’t realize that he felt this way. Even though you knew that he was struggling with all the attention, you thought he could handle it well, but apparently he’s an even better actor than you thought he was.

“I was so conflicted. I like you so much and I thought if I’d push you away, you’d move on. But when Harry told me how lovely you were being, still asking how I was doing even though I was being a jerk to you I realized how childish I was being. That I needed to be honest with you and let you decide for yourself if I am worth it or not.”

Tom chews on his lower lip as his voice quiets down and you squeeze his hand, giving him a soft smile.

“You’re right. You should have been honest with me,” you say. “Even though I am just a basic civilian-“

He snorts out a laugh and you grin at him.

“I can imagine how hard it can be in your line of work. But Tom, I’ve already been thinking of this since our first date. It’s not like I’m going completely blind into this. And you’re worth it, okay? Even if you’re an asshole who ignored me for two weeks.”

He ducks his head sheepishly and you shake your head fondly, moving your legs so he can come closer before he leans in to give you a quick kiss. You barely have the time to react and your cheeks redden, before the two of you lean in for another kiss.

Pulling away, Tom lets out a soft sigh and leans his forehead against yours.

“Thanks for giving me a second chance, Y/N. My brothers would have kicked my butt for losing someone as great as you.”

You shrug with your shoulders, a pleased smile on your face. So you did leave a good impression on Harry, despite your initial awkwardness.

“And you would have deserved it,” you point out and he grins, looping his arms around your waist.

“Trust me, I know.”

Do you want to be on my taglist? Let me know!

Bolded means I couldn’t tag you for some reason. If that is the case with your user, please shoot me a message so we can figure out the problem!

Taglist: @afangirlwashere // @beautifullydisconnected // @imagine-lovebug // @parkeret // @dahliaspidey // @screamholland // @xidaughterofthemoonix // @strang-ersclub // @lost-in-translating // @chaoticharmonyqueen // @sunflowercth // @psychicforest // @thatphandomchick // @llamasaurousmaddie // @fandomdarlings // @unfortunateshelby // @skyfall8600  // @yeahimcrying // @spideys-gurl // @one-big-fangirl // @imagine-lovebug // @professionalphangirluniverse // @zabdisamor // @palindrome-teddy // @axa-vega // @btsgot7crackheads // @angelicshinigami // @mrsfortune1306 // @spicy-mango626 // @thorsvotary // @boughs-of-hollie // @magicalturmoil // @overdramaticdepressedteen // @tomhollandismyspiderman // @tomshufflepuff // @trustfundparker // @evelyn120700 // @sincerelygmg // @the-surviving-revolutionist // @darktwistydiamond // @tomspidertingle // @jackiehollanderr // @jsusofsburbia // @nerdyandproudofitsstuff // @marvelislove10 // @chaoticc-loki // @pluckypete // @starlightfound // @gendryia // @maybemona // @harrystylesdolan

[lunanoirre]

Episodes 9 and 10

(actually reviewed, no seriously I’m back—)

Ok!

I am back!

Though, I’m going to do something a little different when compared to what I’ve been doing with my other reviews of episodes.

Since I have to rewatch these two to get myself back upto speed, I’m going to jot down my thoughts, live, as I go along!

It’s something I see pretty commonly among this and many other fanbases, so I’m gonna give it a shot!

I hope my raw reactions get at least a fraction of the laughs they give me.

Episode 9:

This is a weird place to start my thoughts, but I do like how relevant the recaps are. I got used to anime, where they tend to recap entire SEASONS for no reason.

Of course it’s a single mom with only young children moving into the Winchester’s childhood house.

“The chair”.... no chair is gonna stop spirits in your closet, hunny

And of course, the chair is moving. Aaaand mom’s in the basement. Cool !!

Why did John leave a box of keepsakes in THAT HOUSE ???????????? Especially pictures, jesus christ, those are always known to have supernatural links

What the hell is that flaming mass in the closet.

Ok, how the hell did Sam match his tree drawing to the tree in the photo—

“Why would you think that?” “Uh—... I jus-Uhm-“ valid point, good job Sammy

Seeing Sam so distraught is honestly really heartbreaking.

Why did Dean say he would never go back ...? I mean, I get it, trauma, but... Dean doesn’t seem the type to avoid that kinda thing.

Did they... Teleport back to Kansas?

I love how Sam immediately destroyed Dean’s lie—

They said the little girl’s name twice, and I did not understand it either time.

Y’know, Dean looks really upset to be there, and I am not liking that.

How is this mom not suspicious of how anxious Sam and Dean were acting—

Sam is NEVER this anxious, holy shit-

“I remember the fire.... the heat.... then I carried you out the front door.” Y... yeah, you were like, what, four? Of course you don’t remember much, Dean

Why is their dad so awful .

AW..,,, DEAN?????

HE’S SO AFRAID WTF

calling John again though. ugh.

Oh. Plumbing. I remember how this went, and I still hate that cymbols monkey.

y’know, garbage disposals are not blenders.

When I watched this with my dad, he also commented that it’s common practice to UNPLUG the disposal before fishing out of it—

Of course John was a marine.

Aah!!! Miss Missouri!!! I loved her!

She is such a comforting lady, I love her VOICE

Tfw she already knows their names

I want her to be my mom. The way she talks to them is so sweet

Dean has seen enough bullshit to not doubt psychics at this point, smh

I just remembered how this episode ends.

Oh, the ghost broke the playpen! Time to fridge the baby !

Why would the kid climb into the fridge at all though?

Thank god they brought Miss Missouri, or else this mom would not trust them ONE bit.

Throwing shade at Dean? Hell yeah.

Oh. Great, not the same demon. Cool

DEAN, DON’T TASTE THE PURIFYING HERBS.

How does no one hear the bullshit behind them???????? Opening drawers, sliding cords, dressers???

Why does everyone like to strangle Sam?

Ow. That light hurt.

“This is all over.”

And then it wasn’t.

Ooh, free earthquake simulator! Don’t even have to leave the bed!

I can’t tell if it’s “Jenny” or “Jinny”.

Ooh, creepy ass flame monster!

And then Sam was taken away.

Watching Dean bang on the door makes me feel much safer in regards to my break-in fears. That shit is LOUD

Mummy Winchester was the flame all alooooong!

These boys really do deserve better, holy shit...

Man, sad that Sam got to meet Mary for the first time as a flame spirit.

How.... did Sam obtain the powers of a medium?

Aw, Dean got the pics back

I’m... How the hell do spirits destroy themselves??? That still makes no sense

Wow. John’s such an asshole.

HE WAS IN THE TOWN AT THE SAME TIME ????????? THAT JERK! WTF.

Thank you, Miss Missouri, for saying what we’re all thinking.

“Not until I know the truth”— yeah, we get it. stop.

Episode 10:

Oh yeah, the asylum. This one isn’t that notable, I remember.

As someone who is neurodivergent, asylums in horror REALLY bug me, but I’m glad that this story turns things on its head.

Why does the anger give the possessed victims nosebleeds?

Ohhhhhh, their dad WAS in Cali.

I wish their dad was dead, instead of toying with them so damn much.

Yes, Dad wants you to work a job because he’s horrid.

I hate that Dean follows it so willingly, but I know that he’s just... looking for ways to please his dad.

Oh my god, they just pulled off a stunt to get the officer’s trust—

Why would you willingly want to explore an asylum? I just really don’t get the thrill.

I get certain “strange vibes” like Sam. But... I often mistake anxiety attacks as that sense, so it’s not that accurate.

Dean.... Dean.... Dean,,

He is in HARD denial about their dumbass dad.

I would be ASHAMED to be the son of someone who worked in an old asylum.

Sam is such a bad liar.

That was such a tease, I was hoping to hear Sam’s actual thoughts on Dean :c

As much as I adore my girlfriend, I would shit my pants if she brought me to an abandoned asylum as a “date”. Haunted house? I’d consider. Just not—.... condemned places are really, really creepy.

Here come the BOYS.

Spn’s editing really does creep me out sometimes. That spirit in the straitjacket, eughfhf...

I really do love that the asylum patients’ ghosts are peaceful. At least this show knows that none of this is their fault.

DEAN. Literally he JUST said to listen to horror movies, and then he just SPLITS UP—

Sam’s powers are kinda odd, but that’s ok.

How did Sam fall for that fake call.

And why does Sam go through the door that opened by itself? He should KNOW BETTER.

Dean calling him Sammy tho...

Good. Bad “doctor” is the villain.

Y’know, weaponizing normal, brotherly anger isn’t funny.

There’s the good little soldier line!!!

I SAW Sam’s brows crease in “wait, what?” when handed the real gun

*whispers* “Sorry, Sammy.”

Does—... Does Dean just use sea salt??

Thanks, Doc, for making a plasma ball in my mouth.

All these near-death experiences are gonna cause some REAL trauma.

Is it just me, or does Jensen have some really pretty eyelashes?

Ah, Christ, here we go—

I hate. Their dad. Already.

Ok, turns out I actually remembered more than I thought I would.

And! I actually watched episode 11. I just... forgot.

Anyway, my next post will have episode 11’s review, along with 12 and maybe 13.

I hope their dad isn’t as bad as I think he is so far...

[mister-lady]

I did fic gmkfkdkfr. And it what, only took me several weeks to write a fic for Dice? Mvgkdkkf. This was still fun and I liked it :3 and sorry if ttheres a lot of typos, I only seemed to be able to write this before I went to bed or before I woke up so it might be a little sloppy fkdkdkdk this was also a lot longer than I intended so ubm,, sorry about that

AU: uhh.. I dont know if theres a proper au name? Store clerk au? Idk but you'll get it cjfms

TW: talk about food, mention of blood, mention of looking like someone got murdered, talk about sharks eating someone

----------

Matt had a party he was invited too, and for Matt this was a special occasion, so he decided to go out and get some formal wear! He had a few dresses and such at home, but he wanted something with a newer and fresher feeling. Lucky for him, there was a nearby tailor shop that he knew about. He's never been to the tailor shop because he's never really needed anything from the place, so he was a mixture of excitement and nervousness at going. Thankfully for him, the nervousness wasn't too overwhelming this time.

As Matt stepped into the tailor shop, he was quickly hit with the smell of strong perfume- or was it cologne? Either way it was powerful enough to give him a small headache the second he walked it. He couldn't help but notice the small bell that jingled as he walked in, and smiled at the noise. Matt decided to look around, and caught a glimpse of a perfume stand that had it's own counter and shelf to it. Matt could only guess that's what was causing his headache. He couldn't help but also notice how big the store was too. He expected it to be some small tailor shop like the stores you would find inside a mall, but this once mind as well be the mall. He could only imagine how much money this place was gaining to be so big, and the concerned him because that normally ment it was pricey, and Matt wasn't really in the mood to go 50 miles elsewhere because he was a broke sucker. The interior had bright white walls and white floor tiles too, and the lights made the whole place seem to glow, only contributing to his minor headache. Though, it did make sense that they would need good lighting if it was a tailor shop, which seemed to have mini stands inside that sold other stuff, like the perfume one he had spotted earlier. Matt walked further in to get a better look and saw some other people that were presumably with store clerks that were taking their measurements or picking out clothing that would work with them. Matt also noticed that the majority of customers were females, which made him grow a little self conscious and contrary to what the website said, he almost started to doubt if this place had items for more masculine customers like himself. Matt hadn't gotten too far into the store before being abruptly stopped by someone. Matt shrunk a little, the person that stopped him looked rather intimidating, they were wearing mostly black clothing that hugged his body and had a scarf wrapped around his neck even while indoors, and also had a pair of shaded circle glasses that made it harder to see his eyes, again, while also indoors. 

"And what brings you here?" The mystery person had asked.

Matt quickly scanned the person for a nametag, and found one on his chest with his name written on it. "Uhmm… I came here to maybe find an outfit for a party I need to go to later?" Matt was debating if he should bother using the person's name, as he wasn't ready to potentially butcher it.

"A party? Tacky; but fine. Come with me I'll help you pick out something." The man waved his hand, signaling Matt to follow him.

"T-tacky??" Matt blurted out before wishing he hadn't spoken up.

"Uhm, yeah. Tacky. We sell things like dresses and suits, not poorly colored and terrible silk clothing for a party no one is going to remember." The person didn't even turn around to face Matt while speaking, and kept walking.

Matt was left speachless, he didn't even know how to respond to that, especially because it was a slightly true statement. After a few minutes of Matt not knowing what to say, and feeling stupidly shy, he decided to at least look around and see if anything caught his eye. Matt didn't realize that the person he was following had stopped, and almost bumped into him. 

"Here, stand on this stool." The guy pointed to a small stool that was set infront of a mirror against a wall. 

Matt obeyed and stepped onto the stool. He looked at himself in the mirror before quickly looking away for several reasons.

"Stand up straight." The idiot wearing glasses indoors ordered.

Matt quickly shot up and fixed his posture and stretched his arms out straight and was quickly filled with embarrassment. The worker pulled out a tape measurement and quickly started taking Matt's measurements. Matt, like the dork he is, felt his cheeks flush at someones hands being so close to his body, especially when taking measurements for clothing, which that normally required waist and bust measurements. Matt looked away, avoiding eye contact like it would kill him. He was probably making the situation seem worse that it probably was. The worker stood up and put the tape measurement back into his pocket before seeming to think about something.

"Don't you need to write the measurements down?" Matt shyly asked.

"I do this every day as a job, I have it in my head." The worker spoke with a tinge of sass in his voice. "What are you particularly looking for, anyways?" 

"Uhm.. well, I was mostly looking for a suit, though I normally don't wear the overcoat with it so maybe just a fine button-up shirt with a tie?" Matt had subconsciously reverted back to being slightly hunched over and his hands were fiddling around with the cuffs of his sleeves. 

"I'm sure I can find something for that. Any particular color you're looking for? And what type of tie? Are you allergic to any fabrics? I need all the details." 

Matt was overwhelmed by the sudden burst of so many questions and almost immediately blanked on anything he was just asked. "Oh I uh.. I'm not allergic to anything, uhm.. I'm not too picky about color, and I'd prefer a bowtie." 

"Very specific, aren't we?" The worker teased.

"Well I don't want to seem too picky, I mean I don't want anything too expensive." Matt stumbled over his words.

"Darling, being picky here is what we need. Lucky for you I'm not someone that just throws anything on you for money." 

"Ah yes, how lucky I am." Matt muttered sarcastically.

"So, are you sure you don't have a preference? Becuase I don't want to pick soemthing for you and you go complaining." 

"I won't complain!" Matt stubbornly said.

"Fine, fine. You're words not mine." Then he walked off, probably to go and find something for Matt.

Matt couldn't help but think how oddly the place was ran. Matt didn't expect it to be that they pick something for you, he thought it'd be like any normal clothing store, where he could pick out what he wanted to wear. Of course, if a customer pointed out something they liked then the worker would probably get it for them or allow them to look around, but Matt would rather die than speak up like a normal person. Plus, this guy seemed to know what he was doing anyways, so Matt didn't mind too hard. While Matt was thinking about looking around he decided to see what was around him anyways. There was a small jewelry section nearby which probably had necklaces and earrings and chains and bracelets. There were also shelves on either side of Matt, not too close to him, but if he stretched out both of his arms fully, he could probably touch the two shelves. They looked like they would be shoe wrecks, but actually had folded clothing on them. Matt noticed an orange Hawaiian shirt with pineapple print all over it and three white buttons extending down from the collar of the shirt. He couldn't help but giggle as he picked it up, but made sure to not unfold it in the process. I mean, it was a party after all, right? Not some elegant ball. And it's not like a silly pineapple shirt hurt anyone anyways, right? He carefully set it back where he had grabbed it from, and eagerly scanned the shelves for anything else that might catch his interest. Most of the things on the shelves, as for the rest of the store, were all silky material stuff or fancy and were probably meant for more special occasions rather than a party that Matt was going to sit out in the bathroom all night. Yet… something felt different about the clothing on these shelves. Most of the shelves were a beaming white, and only had three or four shelves near the bottom for shoes and some folded pants or socks and stockings, and had hangers at the top for skirts and dresses and shirts and gowns and such. The shelves near Matt were brown and only had folded clothing on it. And Matt just noticed the prices were a lot cheaper too. It was like he found the discount regect section of the store. Though, Matt didn't mind it too much because he found a shirt he liked.

Matt was so lost in thought, he didn't realize his "buddy" had already came back. Matt actually didn't even know until a shirt got tossed at him, causing him to almost drop it. Matt held it up and examined it. It was a green button-up shirt with black buttons. Matt glanced up at the worker, like he was expecting him to say something, which just lead to them kinda blankly looking at eachother for a little bit.

"Well?" The worker prompted.

"Well what?" Matt echoed.

"Do you like it? I found a pastel purple one too, and you could maybe wear brown slacks with them, but I think black would better suit you." 

"Well I don't mind it, than sounds fine." 

"Don't mind it? We need something you'll love, not just feel neutral towards." The worker said it as if he was offended. "Did anything catch your eye maybe while I was gone?"

Matt hesitated for a moment, and shyly glanced at the pineapple shirt and pointed at it as if he wasn't allowed to touch it. 

"Really? That?" The worker questioned and furrowed his brows.

"W-well you did ask…" 

"Yeah it's just… theres a reason it's in a separated section from everything else." 

"I assumed so, but it's pineapples.." 

"But you'll look like a a torrist that got lost."

"Ouch, thanks."

"Look, I'm trying to say it nicely, but you'll look like a complete dork."

"No dorkier than your name." 

"Hey! My name is not bad, if anything it's plenty better than whatver yours is."

"I didn't say it was bad! I said it was just dorky." Matt said defensively. "I like dorky things. I am a dork." Matt added.

"Yeah, uh, you do realize normally dork isn't a compliment, right?"

"Emphasis on normally."

"Look, if you like my name I'm not going to complain, alright?"

Matt huffed out a sigh. "I just wanted a shirt how do these situations happen to me." 

"Here, I found this too." The worker said and tossed another shirt into Matt's arms.

"Jesus christ." Matt muttered.

"What?" 

"Dice- can I call you that? I mean it's your name but..- Anyways, this shirt stinks."

"How? I mean if you think it's bad you don't have a sense of fashion." 

"I mean, I don't but…anyone looking at me far away will think I got stabbed." 

"And then they come up, see what it really is, and want to try it themselves. It's perfect."

Matt shook his head in silence. The skirt was white, but it had big flowers on it that were a deep red color, making Matt look like someone tried to shank him all over. Matt loved flowers but this was just asking to mess something up.

"If it helps, it's better than your pineapple shirt that you wanted." Dice said, like that was supposed to help somehow.

"If you don't like the pineapple shirt so much, cant I just buy it then?"

"No, I'm trying to save you."

"Save me? The only saving I'll need is from when someone calls the paramedics cause I look like I swam with some sharks." 

"Oh yes, because being dressed like a fruit helps. It's not even a floral print it's a pineapple. I don't even need to explain what's wrong with that."

"Do you do this with every customer or?.."

"No, just you." 

"Wow"

"Theres so much good clothing in here like suits and dresses and better patterns and nicer clothes and things that compliment you, than some pineapple shirt you can get at a Dollar Tree store."

"Y'know, you almost make me want to thank you."

"Well, you should be thanking me." 

"I'm not going to." Matt made sure to say this in a rather playful tone, even though most their conversation had been teasing banter.

"Here, how about we just find something we can both settle on?"

"You're best idea yet. That sounds fine."

"Good." Dice walked off to go and look for something for Matt, but this time Matt decided to follow him as well.

It didn't take long for Dice to spot something and show it to Matt. "Here, how about this?" Dice offered.

Matt recoiled a little bit when it saw it. "It's not bad but..-" 

"But?" Dice cut off Matt.

"Well.. it's so scratchy looking!" 

Dice looked over Matt as if he was trying to check if Matt was being genuine or not. "You haven't even tried it on yet!!"

Matt timidly reach out a hand and rubbed it across the shirt before cringing back a little bit. "No."

Dice sighed before putting the shirt back and going off the hunt for something else suitable for Matt. Matt glanced around, he felt a little bad and a little afraid that he was being annoying, but he tried to push it away. Matt let in an excited gasp as he spotted something, before scampering off to go and pick it up. 

Matt picked it up with a wide grin and held it up to show Dice like he discovered something new.

"That one?" Dice questioned.

"I am not letting you talk me out of this one! It has a space theme and that is final." Matt pointed at the shirt he was holding up, which had stars and planets all over it.

Dice held up a hand to his chin and looked over the shirt like he was considering it. He ended up giving in. "Okay, it's not too bad and I suppose it's better than that pineapple shirt…"

"I don't know what's with you and pineapples but I'll take it!" Matt was beaming and was bouncing on his heels from happiness. 

Dice gently took the shirt from Matt's hands and checked for a price tag. Matt frowned a little, he completely forgot that prices were a thing since he was so caught up in his excitement. Dice glanced around and snagged a pair of long purple jeans and handed the clothing to Matt. 

"How much will it cost?" Matt asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

"....I'll just say fifteen dollars." Dice responded.

"For both?" Matt asked, surprised.

"I want to help you pay for it." 

Matt was surprised by the answer. "Are you sure?" 

"Mhm." 

"Isn't that illegal in a way though?.." 

"Maybe if you want to look at it like that, but you're cute so I'm letting it slide."

Matt felt himself get flustered at the comment, whether it was supposed to be flirtatious or not. He decided to not respond and just shake his head in response, though he was pretty sure Dice had noticed anyways.

As Matt ran up to the nearest counter to pay, he couldn't help but feel the need to Wave goodbye to Dice. Things like that happen when you become attached to people after five minutes. Matt was oddly surprised to see Dice wave back but was warmed by the feeling. As Matt ran off to his car so he could try on his clothes sooner, he noticed a small paper hanging out the pocket of the shirt he had just picked out. He grabbed the paper before it could fall out and got deeply flustered and joyous at what was written on it. There was a small drawing of a single die cube, and a phone number written next to it. It didn't take long for Matt to quickly punch the number into his phone and pray it wasn't some rouse. He decided to just send one small message saying "hi :D". Right as Matt went to put his phone back into his pocket, it buzzed signaling he got a new notification. Matt checked it and tensely checked if it was what he was truly hoping for. He read the message so fast he had to read it a second time after not picking up what it had said. It read:

Already texting me right as you just left? Someone's clingy and in love.

Matt sighed and smiled and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He had a feeling this was going to end up being something he needed to buckle in for, but whether that was necessarily a bad thing? He didn't think it was.

[heyyyharry]

pre-relationship, harry sees y/n in a bikini for the first time then gets awe and tongue tied🥰🥰

Wow I actually received two other similar requests haha.

“Shy y/n wearing a bikini for the first time to the beach with harry and his friends (pre-relationship) and he gets grumpy and jealous when a boy is flirting with her and she flirts back a little”

“A blurb of harry seeing y/n in a bikini for the first time before they’re dating? He feels like he’s in an entranced but she feels so shy and all”

.

“What do you mean you didn’t bring any clothes? We’re at the beach, Princess.” Layla scoffed, turning all the attention to Y/N whose face was already turning scarlet. The poor girl was the only one there not wearing a swimsuit, but with all these eyes on her, she felt like she was the most exposed.

“You literally threw my bag out because your suitcase didn’t fit in the car!”

Everyone immediately turned to Layla, who had just now remembered what she’d done. She turned to Trix, looking a bit startled. “Wait, I thought you said it was Niall’s?”

“Okay, so if it’d been Niall’s, it would’ve been okay to just throw it out?” Niall sounded offended, but as always, nobody cared.

Rolling her eyes, Layla exhaled and said, “fine, I’m sorry—“

Everyone gasped...

“—that you think it was my responsibility to make sure your stuff stayed in the car.”

...only to sigh at once. But it would‘ve been concerning if Layla had genuinely apologized.

“It’s okay,” Harry finally spoke. “She can just...uhm...wear my shorts and t-shirt.”

“Wow, Prince Charming is here to save the day, again.” Layla chuckled. “Oh well, I’ll let her borrow one of my ten bikinis.”

“Why the fuck did you bring ten?” Louis stared questioningly at the girl just like everyone else did. “We’re only here for one and a half day?”

Layla quickly pointed a finger at him. “Judge me again and next time I’ll throw your stuff out instead of Niall’s.”

“Am I supposed to feel happy about that?” Niall raised his voice, and again, nobody paid attention to him.

Layla walked over to get her bag and took out a yellow bikini as small as the one she had on. Harry had to stop her right before she could hand it to his flatmate.

“Y/N is not wearing that,” he said with nervous laughter. He could already imagine her wearing that, and the last thing he wanted was for Liam, Louis, and Niall to begin having the same thoughts as he was.

But unfortunately, Layla was never on his side.

“Are you her stylist now, Styles?“ She shot him a glare and pushed him aside to give Y/N the yellow swimsuit. “Change fast.”

“Oh...okay...”

“Wait!” Harry snatched Y/N’s wrist before she could walk away. “If you’re uncomfortable, you can just wear my clothes.”

“It’s fine, really,” she reassured him. “Layla‘s wearing one. So is Trix.”

“But they’re...Layla and Trix.”

“You do realize we can totally hear you, right?” Layla asked in an annoyed tone, but Harry didn’t really care as Y/N pressed her lips into a smile and told him she would be right back. His heart was already pounding when she walked away. How could he handle seeing her in the actual bikini?

Well, he couldn’t.

He couldn’t handle it.

She walked out a while later, holding her clothes to her chest, but her legs and her bum were enough to set his eyes on fire. He had only seen her with this little fabric on once, when she was taking shower in his room (because her shower was broken), and she forgot her clothes, so she ran outside quickly with only a towel covering her soaked body. She was so fast he hadn’t seen much, but it was enough to keep him awake many nights.

Now, he got to see more than he’d anticipated, and as much as he loved this view, he was more worried about how the other three guys also shared the same thoughts with him.

“Good,” Layla said, clearly unbothered by the boys gawking at Y/N. “Now let’s go catch some waves before I get fried by this heat. Niall!”

“Coming!” Niall shouted but his eyes lingered on Y/N a few seconds more before he hurriedly ran after Layla and Trix. Harry had seen that, and now he was fuming.

“Okay, that’s enough.” His loud voice caused Louis and Liam to snap out of whatever fantasies they were having. Quickly, he threw a beach towel over Y/N’s shoulders and wrapped it around her like she was a burrito. “Let’s keep you...uh...covered up...since you know...you haven’t put on sunscreen and all that...”

“Right.” Y/N nodded, giving him a smile which was all it took to turn his knees into jello. He almost forgot they weren’t alone until Liam spoke up.

“I brought sunscreen. Want me to do your back?”

“Go do Louis,” Harry jumped right in before Y/N could speak for herself. “We’re good, thank you. C’mon, Y/N.” Then he left his friends standing there speechless and took her hand to lead her to a shade nearby where he put his backpack.

Watching Liam and Louis run towards the ocean to join the others, Y/N turned back to see Harry handing her a tube of sunscreen. It was funny how he couldn’t even look her in the eyes as he spoke. “Put this on and...uhm...yeah...and join us when you’re done...”

“Wait,” she stopped him right before he left. “Can you put it on my back?”

On the outside, the boy calmly nodded and watched her pull down the beach towel he’d wrapped around her. On the inside, he was yelling “fuck” in every language he knew.

He sat down right behind her and squeezed the sunscreen onto her back. His hands were trembling as if he had never touched a girl before. Her skin was hot and soft, and he could only think about biting her neck as he took her from behind. Now he felt disgusted with himself. If she could hear his thoughts right now, she would move out as soon as they returned home. Fuck, he really needed to stop.

Think about dead puppies, Harry. That’s sad. And an old person eating alone too. That’s also sad.

He had almost cleared his head from all these dirty fantasies when her next question came up and flushed all his efforts down the drain.

“Want me to do you?”

Yes, do me, the voice inside his head shamelessly shouted. Do whatever you want to me.

You’re disgusting, said another voice. Honestly, he had to agree with this one.

Shaking his head fast, he broke into a crooked smile and stuttered, “I...uhm...already...put on sunscreen...”

The last thing he needed was for her to touch him. He didn’t want to get a boner on the beach. Layla wouldn’t let him live, he could already see a photo of his covered hard dick as a highlight story on her Instagram.

“You sure?” Y/N seemed worried as she brushed a curl out of his face. That little gesture alone could make his heart skip a beat. “Your face’s all red.”

The fact that she was so unaware of what she’d been doing to him without even touching him, made her much harder to resist. And now Harry finally believed ‘love sick’ was real. He felt like dying and flying at the same time.

“I’m good.” He nodded, scratching the back of his head shyly. “Wanna go now or?”

“Okay, let’s go.” She happily smiled and walked straight ahead. It was then that he noticed how her ass cheeks bounced for every step she took, and apparently he wasn’t the only one who saw that. A few men over there were watching her too. Fuck, it’s like me against all the males on this planet, Harry thought, rolling his eyes as he quickly pulled out a random t-shirt in his bag before running after her.

“Love! Hey! Put this on just in case. Sunburn is no joke.” He tried to catch his breath as she looked at him funny.

“What’s wrong with you today?” She giggled, but listened to him, and threw on the t-shirt anyway. “Thanks, I do feel like I’m naked in this small bikini. It’s cute and all but I’d be more confident with a body like Layla’s.”

“But I love your body.” Shit. Fuck.

“You what?”

“I mean.” He widened his eyes as she raised both eyebrows at him. “I mean, I love every woman’s body.” That sounds even worse, shithead. “No, I mean, all bodies are beautiful.”

“I think the sun is really turning you insane.” She giggled and grabbed his hand.

As they walked to the ocean, he had to check out her ass more than once. And all he could do was hope that he could go through this day with all the accidental physical contacts, but not her moving out as soon as they got home.

[bangtanbetchfics]

Apartment 2B (m) | every which way

genre: smuttiest of smut (light bondage, orgasm denial, public sex), fluffiest of fluff rating: explicit pairing: jungkook x female reader word count: 4.1k suggested listening: focus on me - jus2 | movie star - cix | mist - ateez | playlist warnings: casual sex, explicit language, alcohol use summary: you and jungkook can't keep your hands off each other -- but is that all there is to your relationship? notes: never expected the insane reception to this series. lots of fun smut here paired with fluffy fluff - so enjoy! (◕‿◕✿) navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | finale

“Are we ever going to get up?” You ask as you stroke Jungkook’s hair to wake him up. His lids are half hung as he looks at you. 

“Never.” Jungkook groans as he snuggles closer to you. He nudges your nose with his and places a quick kiss on your lips. You’re both skin-to-skin and the warmth between your bodies envelops the two of you.

A soft light trickles through the shades, and the muffled sounds of cars making their way through the city float through the open the window. Schoolbuses hum by, and the light laughter of children tickles your ears.

“I could honestly lay here with you all day.” He whispers as your limbs entangle, and the sheets you’re under crumple to your forms. 

“You just look so beautiful in the morning.” Jungkook says as he looks into your eyes for a moment -- his expression soft. Your mind wonders why he has extra little galaxies revolving around his pupils as you brush your thumb over his bottom lip.

Jungkook studies your face before lowering his eyes. 

He takes a long, thoughtful pause. 

Jungkook then brings his eyes back up to meet yours.

“Tell me about the last guy you were with. Was he like me?” Jungkook inquires, his eager eyes awaiting your response. 

“Not at all.” Jungkook furrows his brows in worry, but you continue your story.

“He was a doctor, never saw the man much. He worked around-the-clock .” You pause for a second to reflect on the memory. 

“I thought I was independent enough to handle it, but I couldn’t.” You answer. “He always acted like I was needy when we did get to spend time together. I didn’t need that shit in my life.” Jungkook’s eyes turn introspective for a second.

“What about you?” You look down at Jungkook as he starts to snuggle into your neck. “I’ve only had two solid girlfriends, to be honest.” He replies, and you look down at him in shock. 

“Don’t act so surprised. One of them was back when I was in middle school, too. Love of my life.” He chuckles and the vibrations from his laugh tickle your neck. You try to suppress the smile forming on your lips, but it’s no use.

“Don’t so many girls go for you now, though? I find it hard to believe you weren’t fucking every night before we met.” You say as you start to laugh out loud. 

“I’m actually quite shy, you know. Thank god for my wingwoman, Miri. I owe that girl my life for introducing me to you.” You see Jungkook blush, and stop massaging his hair for a second.

You wonder about the gravity of the comment, but you let it go.

“Now. The important stuff. How many times could he make you cum in one night?” He chuckles, running a hand through his own hair. 

“None, actually.” You respond, and Jungkook’s eyes grow wide as he looks up at you. “I mean, if I got out my Hitachi while he was inside me, yeah. But otherwise fuck no.” You shrug.

“Then what makes me different?” Jungkook insists. 

“You’re spontaneous. I never know what I’m going to get from you...in a good way.” He snickers, satisfied with the response.

“Oh, like this?” He asks, smiling into your neck as he starts to kiss it. 

He can feel your pulse starting to race under his lips. 

Jungkook starts to suck at your neck, causing a hickey to bloom. His hands smooth over your body under the covers until they reach your now-wet folds. 

“You’re always so wet for me.” He whispers to you with a wicked chuckle in your ear, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

Jungkook’s finger slips inside you and you let out an airy moan.

“Jungkook, you’re gonna make me late for w-” You gasp out as you feel him insert a second finger into you. Your chest starts to rise up and down as he fingers you, while he exerts his warm breaths in your ear.

Jungkook removes his fingers from you before licking them as you watch. He slides down your body underneath the covers until he reaches the opening in your legs. 

“Jungkook, n-no-n-” He wastes no time going to town on you as you clutch the sheets and start to moan. 

Jungkook was pure fucking evil for this.

Your fingers struggle to grab his hair as waves of pleasure radiate throughout your body. 

You let out a shameless groan as he finishes and moves on top of you to kiss you. You suck at his lips to taste the last of your juices before he pecks the side of your cheek.

“You’re honestly getting too good at this.” You say breathlessly as you put your arms around his neck. 

“Oh, I know.” Jungkook replies as he lets out another mischievous little laugh.

Jungkook pulls you up into his lap and kisses you. You lean into him as you wrap your legs around his waist. 

You notice the kiss isn’t as eager as it usually is. 

It’s slow. 

It’s passionate.

You look Jungkook in the eyes for a few seconds to try to figure out why, but you get lost in his features. 

The way his tousled locks somehow swoop perfectly over one of his eyes. The tiny mole on his nose. The sweet pink color of his lips. The small little scar on his cheek.

You give up trying to figure him out and dive back into a kiss. You smooth your hands over Jungkook’s muscled chest and then wrap your arms around his neck. You feel him squeeze your waist.

Jungkook pulls from the kiss to look at you.

“I thought you were gonna be late for work?” Jungkook says with a smirk. 

"Work can wait.” You glare at him for a little bit before you dive back in to kiss him again. He laughs and snaps back from your eager lips.

“Easy, easy. Let’s get you ready.” Jungkook grunts and lifts you up, carrying you toward the bathroom.

**

The two of you stand underneath the shower head, tongues working in each other’s mouths. You hold Jungkook’s face and then throw your arms around his neck. He pulls your waist into him, and the steam from the shower envelops the room in a smoky haze.

Jungkook turns you around, holding you by your waist. He runs his hand up your back before running it back down, and then grabs his cock. He enters you, and you put your hand on the wall to stabilize yourself. He starts to thrust into you as he throws his head back. 

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He breathes out and blows through his lips with each thrust as he picks up pace.

Jungkook then pulls you back toward him by your damp hair and you gasp out in pleasure.

“Tell me, did that guy fuck you good like this? Hmm?” He asks. You can’t help but moan at every thrust as he starts to pound into you, and he starts to match your moans.

“No.” You whimper. “Who’s pussy is this then? Is it still his pussy?” He asks, firmer this time. 

“No... y-yours.” You manage to get out as the stream from the shower threatens to suffocate your air supply. “Hmm?” Jungkook pretends not to hear you as he jackhammers you even faster. His maniacal pace makes you lose focus in the pleasure it provides for a second before he yanks at your hair again.

“A-ah, yours-” You cry out as he lands a thrust that sends you over the edge. “Shit.” He says as he pulls out, and he finishes over the shower wall.

“So good.” He releases your hair to kiss your shoulder, and he holds your waist firmly so your legs don’t give out. You’re heaving and so is he. Waves of bliss continue to surge through both of your bodies.

“That’s already twicebefore work.” You utter breathlessly, and you smile. 

Jungkook smiles as he nuzzles your neck and places small kisses on your shoulders.

**

You walk hurriedly through the glass doors to your office, and make a beeline straight toward your boss’ desk. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late. My dog was super sick and I had to get her to the vet this morning.” You say in a pleading tone. 

“You’re good. You do your work better than half the fuckin’ clowns here anyway.” Your boss whispers, waving you off. She takes a second glance at you to look at the scarf around your neck.

“Really like these scarves you’ve been wearing recently for summer. They’re so chic!” She exclaims. 

You reach up and realize what she’s referring to. You honestly forgot you were wearing it. 

“Yeah, fashionable!” You nod at her as before you walk away, a blush settling on your cheeks. Only you knew it wasn’t for fashion, and you kind of liked that feeling.

You make your way to your workstation to evaluate your schedule for the day, but just as you sit down, your phone buzzes.

[10:39 am] JK: Can’t wait 2 cu tonight...lol

[10:39 am] JK: What time did we have to meet up w/ Yuna & her GF again?

[10:41 am] You: Same lol 

[10:41 am] You: 7p for the dbl date w/ Yuna.

[10:56 am] JK: K ^^

**

Your car arrives in front of the restaurant and Jungkook hops out and runs to your side. He opens the door for you, and holds his hand out. You place your hand in his as you look up at him, and blush a bit.

You still can’t get over how Jungkook’s muscled frame somehow still shines through in his suit. He watches you as you get out, equally awestruck by your body line in a black dress. 

He swallows as you look up at him, and you can see him visibly trying to calm himself.

“Guys ! Over here!” Yuna shouts at the two of you, breaking through the moment. Yuna wags an arm your way to get you to hurry.

“Let’s go inside.” You say, intertwining your hand with Jungkook’s. He looks down, and then at you. He smiles to himself as you lead him toward the restaurant.

Yuna hurries you two over to meet her girlfriend. “This is my longtime girlfriend, Sora.” Yuna says, smiling. Yuna’s girlfriend is tall, raven-haired and leggy. 

“Uhm, T-This is my-, uhm , this is Jungkook.” You hesitate, before Jungkook reaches his hand out to shake Sora’s. He looks at you afterwards.

“You’re a fuckin’ hottie. Too bad I like girls.” Sora gleams as she looks at Jungkook. 

“Isn’t he something? The sweetest bean, too.” Yuna giggles. Sora tries to give you a secret thumbs up and wink, but she’s as discreet as a freight truck rolling over unfinished road. 

Jungkook notices and smiles so hard his nose scrunches up on his face.

**

You all get seated at a square table with all the usual dressings: candles, too many plates, too many utensils and too many glasses. You and Jungkook sit at opposite ends of the table; so do Yuna and Sora.

Yuna looks the menu, lamenting over the lack of choices. 

“You’re so lucky I love you. You know I hate this frilly shit, Sora.” Yuna says, pouting in her direction.

“Some fancy vegetables will do you good, love.” Sora retorts back.

As the two of them are distracted, you slip your foot out of your shoe and an inch it toward Jungkook. Jungkook is immersed in their banter before he feels your foot on his leg. 

He inhales a bit, looking at you.

Yuna takes a sip of her wine as she looks at you and Jungkook.

“Tell me your secret. You’re fucking glowing. What kind of fairy dust are you sprinkling on her, JK?” Yuna teases. You and Jungkook both bite your lip as you give each other a knowing look. Your foot is now on his hardening bulge, and you caress your foot over it.

You take a sip of your wine, enjoying watching him squirm. 

“Uhm, I-” Jungkook starts, but your foot gets firmer on his bulge causing him to yelp as he takes a sip of water.

“You don’t have to answer her. She’s trolling.” You say, taking another sip of your wine as you glare at Yuna.

“Fuck, babe, look how small the portion is.” Yuna fusses as your meals arrive. “I’m sorry I’m such a brat, but god are they serious?” Yuna continues as she takes another sip of her wine.

As Yuna and Sora lose focus again, Jungkook exhales to cool himself as you hit a sweet spot with your foot. Your eyes turn seductive for a moment as you feel his bulge is fully hard under your foot. You pull your foot away, and sit up, pulling your shoe back on. 

You bite your lip and give him bedroom eyes before taking another sip of wine. You swirl you drink around in your glass before you set it down.

“How long have the two of you been together?” Sora asks as she refocuses on you two. Yuna cuts into her meal and takes a reluctant bite, awaiting a response.

You open your mouth to speak, but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Twelve weeks, 84 days, two-thousand and sixteen hours...whatever you’d like to call it. That’s how long.” Jungkook says confidently, looking at the two. You gawk at Jungkook, and you feel your heart thump in your chest.

“That’s so cute.” Sora smirks at Yuna, and the two put their hands over their mouths and blush.

Jungkook licks the inside of his cheek. He has a proud look on his face as he dives into his steak again.

You look at him and smile, trying not to gush inside.

As both Yuna and Sora are searching for the waiter, you get up and brush your finger over Jungkook’s shoulder as you walk by. His body freezes for a second and he stops his lightning speed chews. He waits a few moments before putting his fork down. He takes a sip of his wine and stands up.

Jungkook clears his throat, looking to Yuna and Sora who put their attention back on him.

“Excuse my rudeness. I’ll be right back.” Jungkook says as he bows to the two women before walking off.

They nod and continue in their pursuit of the waiter.

**

“God,you just can’t get enough can you?” Jungkook grunts through his teeth, a firm hand in your hair. He’s pressed into your body -- fucking you against the inside wall of a stall in the men’s bathroom.

“You just like getting fucked like a little slut, hmm?” He says as his grip tightens on your hair, and you eagerly nod your head as you let out a devilish laugh. You let out cries of pleasure as he hits you deep, over and over. The sound of your wetness echoes in bathroom as you moan.

Footsteps start to fall in the direction of the men’s bathroom.

The two of you stop breathing for a moment and Jungkook quickly lifts you up around his waist.

The door to the bathroom squeaks open as the two of you hold your breaths in your throat. 

The man goes about his business and leaves.

“That was so fucking hot.” You grab Jungkook’s face, looking at him. 

“Yeah? ” He asks. He’s still got you in his arms, and he starts fucking you against a wall of the stall again. You cum immediately after a few strokes and dig your nails into his shoulders for stability.

“That’s number three today.” You laugh, kissing him. He sets you down as you pull your dress back down.

“You go first, I’ve gotta fix my lipstick.” You say as you give him a peck him on the lips. He nods, buttoning his suit jacket back up.

**

You near your table and Jungkook shoots you a smirk as you sit back down. 

Yuna seems to catch him. 

Jungkook’s eyes grow wide as he makes eye contact with her. He then slowly puts another piece of steak in his mouth.

You look down at your food, pretending to concentrate on the meal in front of you.

The table sits in silence for a few moments -- nothing but the ambiance of chewing and sipping noises to comfort you. 

Yuna sits back in her chair and twirls her fork in her hand before she studies the both of you.

“Utensils down.” Yuna demands as she clears her throat. You and Jungkook glance at each other before looking to Yuna. You comply.

“Let me clear the air for a sec. Did you two just fuck?” Yuna asks, slamming her fork down and folding her arms. 

“Yuna!” You kick her, and everyone at the table laughs.

“Hot. ” Yuna says, laughing.

Yuna didn’t let you get away with shit.

“You think I didn’t notice you two eye-fucking in front of my salad?!” Yuna exclaims. 

“Sora, let’s get the fuck out of here and go fuck too.” Yuna laughs, waving her hand in the air for the waiter to bring the check. “And I want a fucking cheeseburger!” She exclaims.

You and Jungkook look at each other and smile.

**

On the cab ride home, you and Jungkook can’t keep your hands off each other. You kiss him intently as you palm his hard-on through his suit pants. He groans and you start to suck at his neck. 

You notice the cab driver taking a look at the scene through the rearview, and you signal for him to roll up the partition.

Jungkook’s made you shameless by now.

You climb into Jungkook’s lap and kiss him harder, as you start to grind on him. He groans, tossing his head back in pleasure. Kisses and heavy breaths between you start to fill the car with humidity.

You give the cab driver an extra twenty-dollar bill as you exit and he nods.

**

You both burst through the door to your apartment and Jungkook shuts it, pressing you against it. You unbutton his shirt completely and run your hands up and down his hard, toned form.

Jungkook turns you around and put your hands on the door, starting to slowly unzip your dress from the back. The feeling of each rung of the zip coming undone seems to drag as his breaths turn ragged in your ear. He slowly slips the dress off your shoulders and body before turning you back around to face him.

“Good to see you’re wearing what I got you.” Jungkook says, breaths heavy as he marvels at your body.

It’s a lacy black lingerie set accompanied by a garter belt. 

Jungkook curls a finger under the strap of one of the suspenders, running his finger up and down it.

“Well, you owed me from ripping the first set.” You retort, not letting him catch your lips. He lets the garter belt snap to your skin in revenge.

You slink from under his arms as he follows your walk toward a chair.

“Sit down.” You demand, and he complies, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders a bit. He sits down with his legs spread wide and a cocky smirk on his face.

Jungkook watches you, his eyes wide as you straddle him. You play with his silk tie a bit to tease him before you undo it.

“What are you gonna do to me?” He taunts as he watches you. You take the silk scarf and position his hands behind his back, tying the tie tight around them. 

“Be a good boy. Don’t say a word.” You whisper, putting a finger up to your lips. He moans in anticipation before he lets out a little chuckle. He was miles stronger than a silk tie, but he decides to play along.

Jungkook flexes his arms to remind you how strong he is before you start to kiss his neck. This weakens him a little bit as he throws his head back. You grind on him a bit before you slip downward onto the floor and look up at him.

You lean forward and start to unzip Jungkook’s pants as slowly as he undid your dress. 

Jungkook squirms in the chair a bit, and you feel him grow harder. You immediately take Jungkook into your mouth, and his eyes roll back into his head. You work on him furiously, but as you feel him getting close and you come to a sudden halt.

“Ah, fuck.” He groans in displeasure, watching you. “Didn’t I tell you not to talk?” You say as you straddle him, and then insert him inside you. You look at him, holding onto his face as you start to ride him. 

You intentionally make gasping sounds as you roll your hips on him, and his breaths increase with yours. You start to bounce on his cock, and Jungkook starts to lose composure. He starts to fiddle with the tie behind his back as his breathing grows faster.

Jungkook groans as you roll your hips off him, and stand up. He follows you toward the bedroom.

**

As you enter the bedroom, you push Jungkook down onto the edge of the mattress. 

You stand in between Jungkook’s legs, looking down at him. 

You start to slowly strip off your lingerie while Jungkook watches you. Just when he thinks you’re close to removing a piece, you pull it back on. He throws his head back in impatience before he bits his lip.

After several rounds, beads of sweat start to slip down Jungkook’s body.

You finally remove the items and straddle him again, and he immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth as he moans. You grab his neck and you lean in closer to meet his eager mouth.

You put your lips on his, and he starts to kiss you hungrily. You moan into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around yours and nips at your lips. 

“Good boy.” You whisper as you untie him, a little smirk on your face.

Jungkook quickly digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass, before slapping your cheeks a few times. 

“God . You just like fucking with me don’t you ?” He slaps harder as he continues to hit your cheeks with each word. He licks his lips, looking at you.

“Maybe. ” You tease as you bite your lip. You give him a little glare and he directs a low growl at you.

Jungkook flips you onto the bed on your stomach, and spreads you out onto all fours. Jungkook kisses you down your shoulders back before he aligns to your entrance. He enters you immediately, covering your body with his as he thrusts into your hole. 

“You like that, hmm? ” His asks, his lips to your ears.

 Jungkook takes slow strokes this time to torture you a bit. 

“You thought I’d fuck you fast right now, hmm?” He torments, each stroke hitting the base of your core before almost coming out. Each stroke is slow and deep, and his hard cock stretches your walls with every entrance.

The long strokes paired with quick ones sends the both of you over the edge. 

Jungkook quickly turns you over, and you open your mouth to take his release in. 

He kisses your lips before bringing you into his arms.

“That was four. ” He chuckles into your ear.

** 

Another morning comes. 

You open your eyes and Jungkook’s already awake, admiring you. 

“Good morning. ” He whispers. You focus on him, and his eyes seem to glimmer with extra stars this morning. He puts his hand up to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

“Tell me...what was up with last night?” You ask sleepily. 

“I can’t believe you knew how many days it was since we met.” You chuckle, looking at him. His face is serious as he looks at you, and your smile fades.

“I’ve actually been meaning to tell you something.” Jungkook adjusts his head to get a better look at you.

“Jungkook, what is it?” You ask, as your brows furrow. 

“Tell me.” You start to stroke his hair, concerned.

He looks at you intently, and then takes a pause for what feels like an eternity.

“I knew because, well...from the day I met you, I knew I’d fall in love with you.” Jungkook says, and his hair falls into his eyes as he looks at you. 

“And...I’m in love with you...right now. I mean it. ” Jungkook says softly, and you feel your cheeks get hot.

“Jungkook, I-” You can’t catch your breath as you intertwine your fingers with his, and the both of you fade into a kiss.

notes: did you enjoy it? In your feels? look forward to more later this week~ ೕ(˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ๑)

navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | finale

[ctoastwrites]

stars

for the past three days, robin had been on edge for no apparent reason. after the four fought some weird monster (magic and energy sword extra required), they had been unable to relax.

maybe it was the fact that the monster disappeared. or, maybe, it was something else. it was as if there was a ball of electricity bouncing around in their body. jemma had offered a (magic) solution after realizing robin hadn't slept for two days, but they refused. the night before, they'd run off into the forest to try and see if punching a few trees would help. they felt bad for disturbing the wildlife and tried to not be noisy or too damaging. as soon as robin attempted to power the sword the marks running down their arms from previous sword-fighting incidents became an electric blue and began to burn. robin hadn't had that happen in almost a year. they'd only been gone from 'home' for maybe.. nine months? ten? they couldn't recall. it had been almost twelve since they'd swiped the sword out of it's box and tried to use it without any practice- which is what caused most of the marks in the first place. who knew that suddenly forcing an excess amount of energy to an object could have negative consequences? robin felt the inside of their mouth lose most feeling (which was typical for them when they did their "odd energy stuff" as alex called it) and almost burn (not typical). they had become afraid. especially because all of a sudden they felt exausted yet shocked awake at the same time and their whole body felt like it was covered with pins and needles. so, they went back and didn't bother trying to fight a tree. they were practically vibrating for the entire day and then some. when they accidentally shocked jemma, they realized that they really needed to do something about their problem. she hadn't noticed, but there was a small mark that disappeared in moments. robin knew how that could escalate, if the mark on their old bedroom door was anything to go by. so, they decided to go on a walk. maybe they actually would fight that tree. they only meant to go for a bit. and then pastel followed them out. "hey, are you okay?" pastel slowly moved closer to robin. "you know you can talk to me, right? it's okay if something's wrong." robin was the worst person ever when dealing with emotions. they had a tendency to shove it all in a jar and hope that jar wouldn't shatter. (which may have been the reason behind robin's energetic outburst, but i digress.) "nothing's.. wrong." they mumbled, looking away almost shamefully. they were lying and felt bad for doing so, but didn't want to rope pastel into anything. she didn't deserve it. pastel looked at them, concern dulling her usually bright pink eyes. robin gulped when they looked back and tried not to wince. maybe they weren't getting out of this one so easy. "i just..." robin turned and crossed their arms. pastel took note of their missing gloves and dull blue markings on their arms. "'m scared." they whispered, pastel taking a second to realize what they had actually said. "scared..? of what?" pastel's voice was almost as quiet as robin's, but not quite. she wanted them to clearly understand. "i.. mm.. i shocked jemma." "oh.. is that all?" pastel smiled. "i'm sure she doesn-" "no, you don't get it!" robin whipped around and raised their voice. their eyes brightened for a moment and they felt the scar on their face begin to burn. pastel took a step back. robin took this as a sign of their danger. "even though it was just for a moment, i got jemma and.. she wasn't upset, but i am! i- i- i did a bunch of other weird stuff too! the stupid stove, the dresser- pastel, there's a fucking mark on the dresser because i gently opened it!" they emphasized the gently, and pastel realized this wasn't about jemma being mad. they were scared of themself. "robin, it's alright! we'll figure it out, and jemma can probably find some spell or alex can make something for whatever this is to stop!" "i'm not dragging anyone else into my messes, it's bad enough you have to deal with it right now." their voice became strained as unnecessary guilt weighed down on them. they turned again. pastel lightly put her hand on robin's shoulder as they shook. "hey.." that was all she could say before robin reacted out of fear. they didn't really think first, and realized pastel was behind them too late. they turned, grabbing pastel's hand and practically throwing her off. they registered their hand going numb for a minute as their vision flashed white and then... pastel was on the ground, shaking. a fading, jagged blue mark ran from her hand up into her sleeve, getting thinner as it went up. she groaned and tried to sit up, but hissed as a bolt of pain went through her arm. they gasped and closed their hands tight, scared something else bad would come from their exposed fingertips and palms. alex was outside in moments to help pastel. (he'd been watching from the window.) jemma followed him soon after, more confused because she hadn't been there to see it all. "i'm sorry! i'm so sorry, i- i didn't-" alex looked back to robin. "just.. go do whatever it was you were going to." he didn't mean to sound harsh, but he was upset and his mind was focused on making sure pastel wasn't too badly hurt. robin realized alex wanted them gone and nodded. "right. yeah. i'm.. uhm.. goodbye. i'll be back. 'm sorry." jemma gave alex a concerned look when robin was out of sight. "don't look at me like that! when they get back, we'll talk it out and solve whatever it is that's going on. i promise." alex tried. he wasn't one to break promises. jemma sighed and nodded before helping alex get pastel inside. she was fine, just needed some rest. robin gripped the leather strip of their bag tight. they were just going on a walk, nothing more. nothing. more. the rustling from the bushes seemed to have  other plans. robin soon found themself face to face with a much angrier version of the creature they had fought days ago. yet there was four people fighting that time, and robin was only one. the beast growled and bared it's teeth. robin trembled and fumbled for their sword. they were doomed. > four hour timeskip < robin was gone much longer than alex thought they'd be. the sun was nearing the horizon and there was still no sign of them. "i'm going to go find them." he thought aloud, not expecting anyone to hear. alex pulled on his shoes and prepared to head out alone. yet, pastel and jemma were waiting at the door, ready. "where are you two going..?" he asked, puzzled. "with you." jemma smirked. "did you think we weren't going to come?" "maybe.." jemma gasped. pastel giggled at her overdramatic reaction. "how dare you?" alex chuckled. "okay, okay. let's go then." - the four eventually came to the same place robin did. it was darker now, but bright enough to see clearly for the most part. alex pointed towards a bundle on the ground. he was going to head towards it, but was interrupted by growling and a large being towering over him. "oh, hello." he squeaked, stiffening and reaching for the sword on his belt. jemma took that as her cue to stand defensively and rack her mind for things she had read (she, of course, did not bring her book because she didn't think she'd need it.) while pastel hid and prepared herself in case she needed to help someone. (she too hadn't brought a weapon.) the creature attacked first. both alex and jemma were running around and trying their best to fight it off. alex realized that the bundle was robin. he assumed they were playing dead, and called out. "hey, robin, it'd be great if you could help right about now!" his sword clashed against one of the beast's claws. he realized they didn't even shift in response to their name. "robin..?" jemma struck the being in the face with something that looked rather unpleasant. it stumbled back and howled in pain, retreating so it could heal. alex swiftly made his way over, kneeling down to see what was wrong. pastel popped out of her hiding spot, and both her and jemma cautiously approached. there lay robin, cold and still with closed eyes and dried blood trailing from their mouth. there were huge claw marks running down their body. their sword lay abandoned on the ground not too far away, as if it had been flung from their hands. jemma gasped as alex checked for a pulse. he spent what felt like hours (but was actually only ten minutes) searching until he realized it wasn't working. "oh no..." was all he could force out before allowing warm tears to slide down his face. - pastel had tried to heal robin, but it proved useless against their injuries. the four had gone to a quiet pond (robin included.) to say their final words before letting robin be. they were silent underneath the stars. alex thought about what robin had told him once before. "i think we become stars- or spirits of sorts, at the least. our bodies become gardens for beautiful flowers to bloom and for bees to use. i don't know if we stick around but... i wouldn't mind sticking around now that i know all of you." he hoped robin was able to stay, even if it was just for that last night. - a box that once held a ring now sat on their dresser. inside was a button, yellow and star-shaped. their glasses sat there too. both had been taken off of robin before they'd been buried to become part of the earth. otherwise, the room was nearly undisturbed. occassionally someone would walk in there. maybe they'd stay for a bit and think. eventually, they moved on. not forgetting of course- but those sad first few weeks turned into days where they could smile and joke without feeling absolutely terrible. and robin did grow a garden. an assortment of flowers reached out to the sky and allowed the bees to take their nectar. the bees spread the pollen, and allowed their flowers to grow elsewhere.   the flowers were their favorite color as well- a beautiful shade of blue. nobody touched those flowers. not even the animals who would've otherwise ate them entirely. they seemed to just... know. sometimes, when one (or all) of them sat on the roof, they could see a bright star that stood out among the rest, calling out to them. they could almost feel robin sitting there with them, happily spouting fact after fact about the beautiful void that surrounded them. robin avi hyde would not be forgotten.