#and yellow still keeps making things that occasionally blow up in their face

[i3utterflyeffect]

Does selkie Alan ever tease SC like "when you were an infant you would get so mad when I became a stick figure because you didn't recognize me" and ruffle its hair?

oh absolutely, he teases the kids a lot about silly things they used to do i think. that's just a parent thing! he tries not to embarrass them too much though. he does tell King stories about them while the two of them are catching up though :]

[myharkness]

" MOMMY'S BUNNY "

3k words summary: agatha is a workaholic—she likes getting things done before resting. sometimes, however, you miss her. you just want her to come to bed with you. and you find a way to make that happen. tags: sub!reader, fem!reader, dom!agatha, established relationship, age gap, pet names, enchanted strap, reader is a little oblivious/innocent, pet names, praise kink, accidental seduction, enchanted strap, nipple play, hands-free orgasm, blow job, mommy kink, creampie, slight pain kink, mild overstimulation, size kink, dacryphilia, bulging, degradation, accidental seduction, etc.

The rain falls lightly at night, the trees rustle with the force of the wind, and the cold comes in waves. The tapping of the computer's keyboard echoes in the house, steady and melodic, stopping for the occasional sip of tea from the steaming mug. Agatha sits at the dining table, darkness surrounding her aside from a soft, yellow light above her. She's been working all day long—and she'd started typing away from the second she arrived home from work.

You, as always, never complained. She's the one bringing home the money, making sure you stay home so she can see you every day at any time she wants. Instead, you do your best to be supportive, bringing her meals to ensure she's well-fed, bringing her tea whenever she appears too stressed, and reminding her to take short breaks every once in a while to avoid being burned out.

And as supportive as you want to be—you also need her at your side. Especially at night, when you're tired. When you know she's tired. You want to feel her next to you, like every night, nuzzle into her neck, sink into the heat of her body, and sleep safely in her arms. But you're alone instead. So you slide out of the comfort of your bed and step outside, watching her work diligently.

"Aggie?" Your voice flows through the air, entering your lover's ears. You watch her glance up at you, peeking over her glasses as you bite down on your lip nervously.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Agatha replies gently, glancing at the time. She removes her glasses and sets them aside, eyes wandering over your body appreciatively, unabashed. She knows you're too oblivious to realize what you're doing to her—what your body is doing to her. You just dress comfortably around the house, she just happens to find everything you wear delicious.

You're clad in one of your soft, more snug shirts. It's dark purple, her favorite color, and the chilly air makes it obvious you're not wearing any underwear. The fluffy black shorts you wear hang loosely around your waist, threatening to dip too low at any given moment. She can see the v-lines on your lower abdomen, and her eyes trail up to your chest, firm and round—plump. She can almost feel them in her hands.

"Are you coming to bed soon?" You ask gently, leaning against the door frame. Your hair is fluffy and messy, framing your face and barely interrupting your line of sight. Your eyes are tired, watching her expectantly, swimming with a hint of diffidence. Agatha lifts her finger and motions for you to come to her, moving her chair away from the table.

Your legs move before your mind processes the command. The second you're directly in front of her, she points the tip of her finger downwards, eyes still on the computer screen, and you sink to your knees. You keep your hands on your lap, fingers curled as you look up at her, pretty and doe-eyed. Her lips stretch into a smile, fingers gently pinching your chin as she looks down at you.

"What did you think was going to happen when you came in here looking like that, angel?" She murmurs, brushing past your previous question. Your eyes shimmer with confusion, and you tilt your head to the side curiously.

"Like what?" You ask softly, watching her pupils dilate.

"Oh, bunny," Agatha sighs condescendingly, and her thumb brushes over your bottom lip. "This pretty head of yours is just so silly sometimes, huh? Can't even understand the simplest thing, can you? So dumb and innocent, baby—and all mine, right?"

"Yes," You answer, heat crawling up your neck. Your cheeks burn a light shade of red, eyes shifting down. "Yours.."

"Who's?" She asks in a soft whisper, gripping your chin. Her smile feels dangerous, and her eyes shine with a silent warning.

"I—I'm yours, Mommy," You answer, swallowing thickly.

"Good girl," She coos. "Mommy still has some work to do, bunny, but I'll let you spend some time here with me. Would that make you happy, pretty girl?"

You nod quickly, "Mhm. Yes, please.."

Satisfied, Agatha hums and places down her pen. Your eyes are glued to her hands as they slowly undo her belt, making your eyes fall onto the action, lips parted. You shuffle forward and the corners of your lips glisten as you watch her undo the button slowly. You bite back a whine, hands moving to her thighs as you kiss the tips of her fingers. Your eyes are already wet, and you shift as you catch her zipper with your teeth, tugging it downwards.

She watches you, jaw flexing as she clenches her jaw. Her hand dips into her boxers, pulling out the purple dildo she'd let you get acquainted with. You glance up at her, seeking her permission, and she nods briefly, brushing your hair away from your face. You lick your lips and part them obediently before leaning forward. She slides the strap into your mouth, and you watch her inhale sharply.

"Atta girl," She breathes out. "Just be good 'til Mommy's done.."

She returns her attention to the computer, and you hear the mouse click occasionally, the tapping of the keyboards echoing once again. Your tongue presses on the underside of her cock, and your cheeks hollow as you slowly bob your head. You can hear her breaths above you, quick and heavy, and the speed of the keyboard taps slow.

Slowly, you sink your mouth further down experimentally, until she stretches your throat and she's nestled comfortably there. Her hand falls on the table and she gasps, her fingers tangling in your hair at the action. Your eyes sting with tears, but you breathe in through your nose to avoid gagging.

"Fuck," She groans, and her hips buck. You gag, sniffling, "Fuck, sorry, baby. Sorry—jus' stay there. Be g-good for Mommy.."

You let out a choked groan when she begins thrusting her hips. Your fingers grip her thighs as you focus on bobbing your head, listening to her moans, feeling her fingers tug at your hair firmly. She's already close—you can feel it in the desperation of her messy thrusts. You've never had her so far down your throat before, you know it's driving her crazy.

You push down, nuzzling your nose into her pelvis. A loud moan rips through her throat, thighs trembling beneath your hands, and she squeezes you tightly into her. You swallow around her cock and lift your hand up, wrapping around the slight bulge in your throat and squeezing. You choke and splutter as her hips buck desperately, and she reaches the orgasm she's so desperately been chasing.

She watches you, mouth parted and eyes wide. Her fingers dig into your scalp, and tears stream down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, helping her fuck your mouth through her orgasm. She falls back against the chair, moaning loud and unabashed as she pushes your head down, the tip of your nose pressed against her skin once again.

You can feel her fill up your mouth, her legs twitching each time you swallow her release. Finally, she lets go of your hair and allows you to pull away from her strap. Your lungs burn, and your jaw aches, but you return to her cock, grasping it delicately with your fingers, looking up at her with wet eyes and tear-stained cheeks as you lick the cum off the shaft. Her head falls back as she tries catching her breath, but her eyes never leave yours.

"Shit," She sighs, chuckling breathlessly. "Fuck, bunny. That's a nice trick you got there, huh? Where'd you learn that?"

Your cheeks flush, "Well, I—I was just ... thinking 'bout you. I wanted to make you feel good, and I thought I'd try it.."

She runs her fingers through your hair, "Just wanted to make Mommy feel good, huh?"

You nod, still flushed. Your eyes are still wet, and the strap stands straight, brushing against your cheek as you look up at her. Your knees begin to feel sore, and the cold catches up to you, leaving goosebumps to appear on your skin.

"I think you've earned yourself a reward, bunny. Why don't you get on the bed, hm?" She hums softly, and you perk. You stand on your feet, ignoring the pain in your knees as you make your way to the bedroom, sitting on the bed obediently.

You can hear her in the kitchen, likely returning her empty mug. Her footsteps move in your direction, slow and careful, leaving you to squirm in place. You rarely receive a reward or punishment—you have a tendency to stay in the middle, on her good side, but with the occasional bratty acts that keep her on her toes.

"Ready, bunny?" She asks as she walks through the door. Her lips curl into a smirk as your cheeks turn red beneath her attention, but you nod quickly, expressing your desire as your eyes travel to the unbuttoned pants, the bulge leaving a wet stain on her crotch.

"Yes, Mommy," You swallow. She chuckles and walks slowly.

"You're unusually eager," She murmurs thoughtfully. "Excited?"

"Uh-huh," You nod. "Want you.."

She beckons you over to the edge of the bed. You obey instantly, sitting on the corner and letting your legs hang over the bed, barely brushing against the floor as you look up at her. Her lips catch yours in a gentle kiss, something soft in comparison to the passion-filled kisses she usually gives you when she's eager to devour you whole.

Your hands reach up, grasping her shirt as your eyes close, opening your mouth to let her tongue slide in. Her lips are as soft as they usually are, and her tongue is kinder as she sucks in your bottom lip. She moans lightly, and her hand grips your jaw lightly, allowing her to work her tongue inside your mouth. She continues to kiss you, hands moving down to the hem of your shirt.

"Arms up," She murmurs against your lips. You whine and pull back briefly, raising your arms and allowing her to slide your shirt off. She groans as she watches your breasts appear from beneath the soft material. Her hand pushes you back softly, guiding you to lay back on the bed. She kneels on the mattress, draping your legs over her thighs as her fingers knead at your breasts.

You whine briefly, the back of your hand coming to rest over your mouth. Your face feels hot as her fingers gently pinch your nipples. She smiles wide at your reaction, pulling your hand away from your mouth.

"Let Mommy hear you, angel," She murmurs, chuckling. "You think I forgot how sensitive you are here?"

You twitch, lips parting in a needy, breathy groan. Your eyes cloud over as she leans down, taking a nipple in her mouth while she toys with the other one. You whimper, breathing heavily as her teeth gently nip at your skin.

"Mommy," You moan, wrapping your legs around her waist. She chuckles and sucks harshly at your nipple, making your body jolt as a high-pitched squeak leaves you, looking up at her with teary eyes.

"Hm," She mumbles. "Wonder if you can cum like this.."

You cry out when she bites down on your nipple, panting heavily. She moves to the swell of your breast, sucking a mark on it. You can feel a coil tighten in your abdomen—it feels strange. Weaker, but still pleasurable. She moves her mouth to the other nipple. Tears sting your eyes—like there's a connection from your nipples to your clit. Your legs tighten around her waist, your eyes shoot up to the ceiling and your fingers curl around the blanket as you focus on chasing the feeling.

"M'gonna cum ," You choke, and your hands hoot to grab at her shoulders. "Please, Mommy—can I?"

She hums in approval, biting down on your nipple once more. Your eyes fly to her, hands tangling in her hair as you moan loudly, hips moving as you chase the high you feel as the coil in your abdomen snaps. Your mouth waters, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. You came so fast—with your pussy untouched.

"My sensitive little bunny," She murmurs softly, releasing your nipple with a pop. You sigh, slumping against the mattress as you try pressing your thighs together. You're wet between your legs, and your clit pulses angrily, arousal soaking your thighs.

She taps your leg, "Open."

Your legs part obediently, but your mind barely processes. You feel a little spacey, your head is fuzzy and you feel a little sluggish. But you're so turned on, so needy for her. She cups your cheek, and you realize you've been lost in your head, catching your breath.

"How do you want me?" She whispers, and her fingers gently pull your shorts aside. Her fingers nudge at your clit. "Talk to me, angel."

You whine, "Want your cock, Mommy..."

"Yeah?" She asks softly. "Want Mommy's cock inside you, huh?"

You clench around nothing, nodding quickly. Her lips twitch into a smirk, and her fingers dip into your cunt. You groan, walls fluttering around her fingers as she fills you up nicely, moving her hand in slow, gentle thrusts. She has an idea—you know she does because of the smirk she wears, the glint in her eyes.

"Wanna try something new, baby?" She asks, her grin never faltering. You nod along, eyes fluttering closed as you focus on the feeling of her fingers inside you. She slides them out and you whine, but she positions the strap against your entrance and sinks into you. You pussy wraps around it the way it always does, and you gasp as the ridges massage your walls, leaving you pulsing.

"F-fuck, Mommy—so good," You pant, groaning breathlessly. She doesn't answer, doesn't even move before you feel a stretch inside you that almost makes you lose your mind. Your eyes snap open and you look at her—your mouth falls open when another stretch makes a moan fall from your lips, making you feel fuller than ever.

"Look at that.." Agatha chuckles, her hand moving to stroke your belly. There's a bulge there—you see sweat trailing down the side of her neck. You don't know how she hasn't cum inside you yet—you're already so close to losing yourself. She moves her hands under your thighs and lifts them, letting your legs rest on her shoulders as she shifts her position.

"Ohmygod—" You gasp, and she moans loudly. She pulls her hips back and snaps them forward, making your eyes roll back as she begins a steady pace. She doesn't ease up, and her hand moves to your belly again. When she pushes down on the bulge, you sob loudly and let your back arch off the bed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Agatha hisses sharply. "Fuck, bunny. So fucking tight—m'gonna fuckin' cum already.."

"Mommy—" You sob, pulsing around her. Your cum slides out, coating her cock, acting as a lubricant as she keeps fucking into you. The new size of the toy makes you burn, but it hurts so good. You wiggle your hips, and the movement causes a guttural moan to leave Agatha's lips, still fucking you roughly.

"All mine, bunny," She whispers breathlessly. "You're all mine, okay? Mommy's your first and your last—nobody is going to touch you."

"Yes, Mommy," You whine, flushing. She increases the pace of her thrusts. She's usually much more silent when she's fucking you, but she's moaning out with every thrust, breathing heavily, ragged and desperate. Her hand remains pressed against the bulge. Her thighs shake as you push your hand over hers, adding more pressure to the bulge. Your eyes water and your mouth drops open as she fucks into your sweet spot again, and again, and again.

"Oh my—fuck, Mommy, it's so good!" You moan gutturally, feeling her fingers dip into your hips as she fucks you harder, Her panting and moaning drive you so much closer to yet another orgasm—but the way her eyes gloss over when you press down on the bulge makes you want to burst. Your hands slide up her arms, eyes falling shut as you clench tightly around her.

"Fuck!" She groans, jackhammering into you with more vigor as her fingers rub tight circles on your clit. Your mind goes blank, your mouth dropping open as you reach your third orgasm. You see stars behind your eyes, feeling her release inside you. She slows the thrusting, filling you up to the brim—but she doesn't stop thrusting. Her fingers on your clit make you writhe, lower abdomen trembling as tears stain your temples.

"Too much—" You choke out, legs shaking. She pulls her fingers from your clit, hips moving slowly inside you as she slowly finishes filling you up. She nuzzles into your neck, breathing heavily. You're still trying to catch your breath, but she's lost in another word. You wince as you sit up, and she pulls you up as she sits on the bed.

She's still inside you, and you rest your head on her shoulder, relaxing your body as you shift. It makes you accidentally pulse around her, making her choke out a moan and thrust harshly, sensitive from the intense orgasm.

"Fuck," You whine. "Sorry, m'sorry.."

Agatha breathes out and gently lifts you, making you wince. With a bated breath, she lays you back on the bed and unhooks the strap, sighing as the sensitivity eases. She watches cum soak your thighs, and the bedsheets beneath you.

"How're you, bunny?" She asks softly, kissing your brow.

You hum, eyes closing, "If I wasn't tired before, I am now."

Agatha laughs lightly, kissing your lips briefly. She brushes your hair away from your face. She watches you eyes droop faintly, but your arms wrap around her neck and pull her in for a tight hug.

"If you get up to do more work, I will throw that fucking computer in the pool."

[...]

[objectumnonsense]

robot oneshot, as requested VwV

The lab was dark, save for the dim neon light filtering in through the curtains and a singular work lamp in the corner of the room. Every few minutes, a train passed overhead, making the ceiling groan with the weight, but it was otherwise quiet. The lab's only two occupants sat without speaking, one in maintenance mode on a table and the other wearing thick, elbow-length rubber gloves and wielding a variety of delicate tools.

The Mechanic worked diligently and in near silence, save for softly humming a tune and occasionally blowing their hair out of their face while they worked on SN-0407-67. The only sounds coming from 67 were the hum of its fans and the occasional buzz of a wire being put in the wrong place, quickly corrected by the Mechanic.

After about half an hour, the Mechanic said, in a voice rough with disuse, "Exit maintenance mode," and a line of small lights blinked to life on the back of 67's neck. Its shutters flicked open and it turned its head right around to face the Mechanic.

"Is there a problem?" it buzzed.

"Well, I don't wanna catastrophize, but I'm lookin' through your lower back complex and I'm seein' some stuff that looks an awful lot like buzz bug eggs. Can you run a diagnostics check for me real quick?"

"Affirmative." In a blink of its shutters, it received data from all of its main systems and most of its secondary and tertiary programs and responded.

"Small loop errors in primary memory arrays. Minimal damage to recursive power wiring. Buzz bugs may be a possibility. Suggestion: analyze sample of offending material."

"Will do. Wanna go back to sleep?"

"Negative. We are almost done, correct?"

"If this don't turn out to be an infestation, yeah. What's got you so eager to leave?"

"Nothing. I simply do not enjoy being in maintenance mode for extended periods of time."

"Oh? Why's that?"

67 turned back around and allowed the Mechanic to pry open its back panel and delicately reach through its wiring with a pair of tweezers.

"I dislike being unaware of my surroundings for so long. It is against my purpose."

"It's necessary though, ain't it?"

"As is sleeping. But you are avoiding that now."

"Fair 'nuff."

The silence returned for a few minutes. The Mechanic extricated some pieces of material from 67's wiring and the gaps in their chassis while it sat perfectly still and nearly silent.

Abruptly, a small yellow light on their shoulder lit up and they said, "Your heart rate and breathing have increased."

"Huh?"

"Are you in distress? Is the infestation worse than you expected?"

"Oh, no, nothin' like that. If this is buzz bugs, we caught 'em real early. I could probably get all of this outta you before dawn."

"That is good."

They continued without speaking for a few moments more, the yellow light still turning on and off rhythmically, before 67 spoke up again.

"Your heart rate has not decreased."

"And I suppose I can't ask you to ignore that?"

"Negative. It is against my purpose."

"Right. First aid robot."

The Mechanic pursed their lips and tried to continue their work, but 67 kept talking.

"You hands are shaking slightly. Allow me to check your blood sugar content."

Before the Mechanic could respond, 67 had already completed the check.

"Blood sugar content within healthy range. Brain scan indicates higher than normal levels of oxytocin. Heart rate and breathing rate are increased, but have plateaued."

"Can't keep anythin' secret from you, huh?"

"Negative. You have poor control over your responses to emotion."

"Well, can't say I didn't try."

"Correct. You are still avoiding telling me the reason for your heightened emotional state."

"Would it hurt so bad to let this one go unmentioned?"

"A key to maintaining healthy relationships is communication between constituents. I am curious why you are acting differently."

"It's... complicated. It's a human thing."

"Mechanic, "human things" are my area of expertise. I will understand whatever you tell me."

"I just..." They sighed, but set their tweezers aside and brushed their fingers along a piece of 67's circuitry. "Can you feel this? When I'm workin' on you?"

"To an extent, yes."

"And does it... hurt?"

"Not unless something is damaged. It feels almost the same as when my exterior is touched."

"Almost?"

"There is a level of... trust involved. I trust that you will not break me, you trust that I will not close myself or shock you to injure you."

"When I do this..." the Mechanic traced the column of 67's spine with their index finger, "what is that like?"

"I fail to see why you are asking me again. Did I not just explain it?"

"I know, I know, just.. tell me what you feel me doin'."

"Alright."

A moment's pause.

"I feel you touching the outer shell of my spine. It holds much of my central processing power, which is why it's covered by thick metal plating. But I know you will not try to damage it."

"And now?"

"Now you're moving towards my power cell. It's a very powerful battery, and very fragile. But you will not damage it."

"Now?"

"You're reaching up through my chest cavity towards my transform arrays. This is where most of my proprioceptive senses are processed. It's also highly sensitive to touch. But you will not damage it."

The Mechanic let out a shaky sigh. The blinking yellow light on 67's shoulder began flashing more quickly. They noticed it was in time with their heartbeat.

"Your breathing and heart rate have increased steadily. Is there something you aren't telling me?"

They abruptly pulled their hand out of 67's back and stammered an apology.

"Sorry, I'm - sorry, that - that was kinda weird. I shouldn'ta -"

"It was not unpleasant."

Their words ground to a halt and they stared at the back of 67's head.

"You... motherfucker, you knew this whole time, didn't you?"

67 made a beep that sounded like a laugh.

"Negative. I only realized when I scanned you."

The Mechanic leaned their head against 67's shoulder with a clunk.

"And I couldn't get you to delete this whole interaction from your memories?"

"Negative."

The Mechanic sighed again and leaned back, rubbing their temples.

"Well, that's about it for your checkup anyways. We should probably get goin'."

"Mechanic, I would not refuse if you wanted to take this further."

The Mechanic froze. "Whuh?"

"I do not have the capacity to feel it the same way you do. But I understand it would be enjoyable for you. My purpose, after all, is to ease suffering."

"Wh - but - I - I'm not sufferin' about it, I just -"

"Mechanic."

67 rose and walked around the table, standing very close to the Mechanic and resting a careful hand on their hip. They swallowed thickly.

"We are the only ones in here. We have time."

The Mechanic let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. They raised a hand to 67's face plate and brushed their thumb along it.

"You're amazin', you know that? Just... incredible."

"I know," 67 replied, a playful lilt in its voice. "Tell me if you want me to stop at any point."

"Alright."

67 stepped even closer so that one of its legs was between both of the Mechanic's and they had to lean back against the table. One of their hands rested on 67's shoulder and the other settled on its hip.

67 hooked a thumb over the Mechanic's waistband and tugged down. Its other hand worked its way up their shirt and cupped their chest. It leaned its head down and bonked it gently on the top of theirs.

"Was that supposed to be a kiss?"

"Affirmative."

"You're such a dork."

67 hummed. Its movements remained smooth and steady, but the Mechanic distinctly heard its cooling fans pick up when it tugged their underwear aside.

"Could it be you're enjoyin' this too, 67?" they purred, lifting the hand that was on its shoulder to the back of its head, where they brushed over some of the exposed wires there. Its lower shutter twitched upwards.

"You do look... very nice. Under me like this."

"Mmm. Kinky." They spread their legs further and gasped when 67's searching hands found their bare skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. It's just been a while. Go slow."

"Understood."

Gently, 67 started working its hand, and the Mechanic let out a quiet groan. They rolled their hips into 67's touch, grip tightening on its neck and making its shutter twitch again.

"Is - fuck - is that hurtin' you?" they asked.

"Negative."

"Want me to - to stop?"

"Nnegative."

At the stalling of 67's voice, the Mechanic raised an eyebrow. "Is it gettin' you off or s-something?

"N N N N - Unsure. My proproprocessor has encountered an error."

Experimentally, the Mechanic chose a wire and tugged on it - not enough to break it, but with enough force to pull it partially out of line. 67 jolted forward, making a buzzing sound the Mechanic had never heard before, and its hand dug harshly into their flesh, making them gasp.

"Arrre you alright?" it asked, stopping all motion. The Mechanic whined and pushed against its hand.

"Don't stop," they pleaded.

"One moment. I nnneed to check -"

The Mechanic tugged on the same wire again, creating the same reaction, and sighed with satisfaction.

"Memememechanic," 67 scolded, though the effect was somewhat lost due to the skipping in its voice.

"Keep goin'. I didn't tell you to stop."

"Make me."

The defiance caught the Mechanic off guard, but only for a moment. They glared up at 67.

"Y'know, you're real disobedient for a robot," they growled, finding a different wire and wrapping it around their finger. 67's shutters closed completely this time, its entire body jerking randomly for a moment before the Mechanic let the wire go again. "I thought you were s'posed to follow directions?"

"Youyouyou haven't said the magic word yet," 67 replied, though their hand had begun to move again.

"Make me cum, 67. That's an order."

"Affirmativvve."

The Mechanic cried out at the dizzying pace 67 suddenly set, hips rocking helplessly into its touch. Its name flowed from their lips like a hymn. 67 bore down on them, chest pressed to theirs, free hand supporting their back so they didn't fall.

"Yesyesyesyes, just like that, yes -!"

With a drawn-out moan, the Mechanic came hard, slumping back so that 67 had to adjust its hold on them, completely at its mercy as it kept up the harsh pace of its hand. It slowed to a stop the moment the feeling became too much and their groans of pleasure turned into whimpers.

The pair stayed like that for a moment, the Mechanic struggling to catch their breath and clinging to 67, whose fans were still going at top speed. It stared adoringly down at them, privately recording a short clip to replay later.

"Holy shit," the Mechanic finally breathed, pushing themself upward off of 67's arm. "That was... wow."

"I trust you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yeah. Jesus Christ. Are you... can I - is there anythin' I can do for you?"

"Negative. No part of me can experience anything close to sexual arousal, but I appreciate the consideration."

"So, just outta curiosity, what were the wires doin' to ya?"

That gave 67 pause.

"I'm... unsure. It's not a sensation I've ever felt before."

"Was it bad?"

"Negative. It was... novel. I'm not sure what to make of it."

"So what... would it be okay if I did it again?"

Another pause.

"...Affirmative. Please be careful."

"You know careful's my middle name."

The Mechanic lifted both of their hands and rested them on 67's neck. One slid its fingers over the exposed wires, still slightly out of place, making 67 beep and twitch.

"Why don't you try tellin' me what you feel?" they purred, finding a wire and winding it around their finger. 67 took a moment to respond, its voicebox making nonsense sounds before it could gather it to something intelligible.

"I I I I feel... dizzzzy? I think that wiwiwire has a role in proprioceptive data transfer. It's hard to to to to rrrecall at the moment."

"Mmm. And what about now?" the Mechanic asked, parting the wires and reaching deeper into 67's neck. They felt their finger make contact with cool metal, and 67 made a long, low tone until they lifted it.

"My my my my my centrrrral spinal casinnnnng. It's very sensensensitive to touch, which is is is why it's underrrrneath everything ellllse."

"You're startin' to sound pretty rough, 67."

"Hard to to to prrrocess speech at the momoment. Unsure how to parrrrse sensory dadadadata."

"Still don't want me to stop?"

"Affirrrmative. Want you you you touch furrrrther in me."

"Fuck, that's hot."

The Mechanic moved upward this time, under the plating on the back of 67's head with a muttered "keep your head down." 67's head briefly dropped limply downward, chin hitting its chest with a dull thunk, before the Mechanic hastily removed their hand and it looked back up at them.

"Why did you you stop?"

"That wasn't bad?"

"Negative. Want morrre."

"Oh, I see how it is." They resumed their probing, 67's head falling again, its voice struggling to express exactly what it was feeling.

"Hannnds in my in me touch ch ch ch mind feel I feel your hands," it managed, and the Mechanic bit their lip, looking up at it with adoration in their eyes.

"God, you sound fuckin' wrecked. I wish I knew I could do this to you sooner," they confessed. 67's optic flickered.

"Want want hands want touch morrre so so so much so want want want wannnnnnt -"

Abruptly, its voice dropped so low it was almost a buzz, its optic blinking out, hands in a vise grip on the Mechanic's hips while the lights on its body turned off all at once. Its fans continued on high for a moment more before they lowered to a more normal level and a noise like a dial-up played.

"Shit."

The Mechanic waited nervously while 67 rebooted, slowly releasing their hips before its optic blinked back to life, immediately zeroing in on them.

"Are you okay? Did I touch something I shouldn't've?"

"Negative. I am still processing. Please give me a moment."

After a second or two, 67 spoke again.

"Last sensation recorded before shutdown: foreign object inside cranial casing. Pressure applied to central tactile nerve. Systems overwhelmed." It blinked. "No memory lost. I am in no pain."

"So that tactile nerve thing -"

"I felt... everything. It's hard to explain."

"I think I get it. Don't worry."

"It was... good. I felt good. I would like to do this again sometime."

"Is right now a good sometime? 'Cause that was fuckin' hot."

67's optic widened slightly, disbelief creeping into its voice.

"Causing a temporary shutdown... made you aroused again?"

"It was more like making you get there. But yeah."

"Interesting. In that case..."

67 opened the maintenance panel on its chest, exposing a crisscrossing maze of wires and circuits to the Mechanic, who practically drooled.

"Help yourself to me."

[red-doll-face]

Snow Angel 8

Chapter 8: malicious Series Masterlist

low - medium honor Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur has been living by himself, laying low (for real this time) somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. After the whole Pinkerton and Micah debacle, he has been hiding away, waiting for it all to blow over, occasionally getting letters from the people who still know that he’s alive. He’s been alone awhile and at first, he thought he could handle a little loneliness. He has been wrong before. Lucky for him, you look like the perfect thing to break up the monotony.

Warnings: dubious consent, low honor Arthur, darkish fic, a bit of naive reader. Reader has dated and period typical ideals, not very good ideas about men and marriage… if you want reader to be strong and a fighter… this is not for you sorry, I dont think i have anything to explicit here... WC: 3854 As promised, chapter 8 tonight idc what time it is i made a promise and its too late for this shit. fuck it we ball...I'm pretty happy with how this turned out i really hammered away at it until i got sick of reading it... watch out for meanie arthur 😈 Tags: no TB, weird but not that toxic relationship, Arthur being a grump lol

Your family meets Arthur.

The sunlight is a pale yellow on the dusty canvas of his tent. The world is a pretty color, deep browns of fur and cream colored fabric. You rub your eyes, not putting much together just yet. You try to wipe away the sleep that clings to you. You’re alone in the tent, not as warm as you usually are with the unfairly warm blooded man that is typically at your side. You suppose that it is more that he keeps you at his side. You turn over and lay on his bed roll a bit longer, lazing about in the chill of the morning air. You enjoy the smell of him; leather and gun oil, coffee perhaps and bitter tobacco, more than you want to admit. You nearly fall asleep again, listening to the sound of Arthur getting ready to be on the road again. 

The flap of the tent is parted by Arthur's hand, porting his leather gloves again. It's bright and cold all at once. 

“Hey, sunshine. How’s my girl this mornin’,” He has a smile under his hat, he’s crouching to look inside the tent while you sit up, supporting yourself on unsteady arms. He has a soft, endearing look when he watches you try to organize your hair, rub your face. 

“I’m ok…Is it very early? How long have you been awake?” 

“Nah, about eleven now, should get goin’, looks like those clouds are comin’ back. Been up awhile,” He has a hand out to help you up and out of his tent. Then he’s helping put your arms through the sleeves of the coat he gave you, sagging a bit, made for his broad frame. This act is so gentlemanly, so strangely kind for a man like him. Jaded, guarded, and gruff. His hands smooth down your arms, so big on you, making you bite your lip. He looks down at you, the neutral line of his mouth quirks up at the sides, over his rugged features. Unable to meet his expression, you tilt your head, looking away. Something warm and sweet pools in your chest. 

You can’t help the small smile which breaks your usual overhanging worry and overwhelmed bewilderedness you carry around now, ever since you’ve been with Arthur. His certainty helps you cling to some semblance of stability. But really, you’re not sure about anything. It doesn't matter what you are though, it matters more that Arthur gets what he wants. 

You nod, he was right when he said it wasn't so early. The sun had come for a day but was certainly on its way out now. Yellow light still casts a green glow through the trees for now but soon it would be all dusky tones and colors, a monotone repetition of winter. You would miss the light but you weren't unused to the gray and the fog. The sun had brought a small levity to your journey with Arthur but now it was back to the gloom, returning to your anxious state, waiting impatiently to see your family.

Arthur has a small fire going and you come and help prepare food while he tears down the rest of the camp. You are cleaned up and fed in not so long. Lucky has a breakfast of carrots and some oatcakes Arthur has hesitantly offered, patting at Lucky's side, your horse shifting his feathered legs. 

You're back on the road in not much time at all, by noon at least and the sky is almost completely obscured by the hampering weather. You fear it might rain soon or even begin to snow as Arthur drives the cart further. He's even more nervous than yesterday, more antsy. He doesn't reach for his cigarettes and you don't give him one, too busy feeling unnerved yourself. Instead his hands fidget, gripping the leather of the reins, scratching absentmindedly at his face, sighing and rolling his shoulders out. Something is weighing on him, like he’s mulling over what’s going to happen next.

“Why are you- why are we going to see my parents?” You ask, brittle, quiet as the winter around you. Still, you speak over the wagon wheels rolling over the earth.

“That’s what you want. Ain’t no other reason,” His answer is clipped. You can tell it isn’t the whole truth.

He turns to you and huffs at your face, disbelief etched into the tilt of your head, the furrow of your brow. 

“I don’t like loose ends. I ain’t one to leave them lyin’ around. I can’t afford to have people sniffin’ around right now. Not ever.” 

“Sniffing around? I don’t understand. Is this about the robbing thing? Are you an outlaw?” You ask, an incredulous tone to your voice. 

He gives you a look out of the corner of his eye before he shifts his halfhearted focus back to the dirt road. “No.” It seems you’ve touched a nerve of his. You will pester him about it later, perhaps when he’s more in the mood to withstand some of your more brazen behaviors. For now, at least your back and forth has distracted you enough that you almost rode past the path that breaks off to your home. 

You sigh and guide him down the small road to your family cabin. You pick at your nails but stop when Arthur puts his hand over yours, squeezing just enough to make you sigh and stow your hands in the coat he gave you. 

You can see the wooden cabin through the trees, chickens clucking in the yard and the bare vegetable patch is frozen over for the winter, some pelts your father left to dry are hanging from the porch roof. It's humble and quaint, a little broken down from too long without repairs but it's sturdy and strong.

Your father peeks out of the gingham curtain your mother put up before rushing outside. You jump down and are surprised that he has such a large hug for you, a laugh. Your mother runs out as well. They're gathering you between them, gasping your name. You nod, throat tightening with emotion. With which emotion, you don’t know entirely. You're up to your neck in nerves. But there's happiness in seeing your parents. Knowing that they can learn of where you’ll be going. You remember what Arthur said about chaining you to his bed. They’d never know what happened to you if he held such a desire as that. 

“What happened to you?! Are you hurt?” You shake your head while your mother looks you over, searching for some grave injury. 

“Who’s this?”Arthur leans against the cart, holding his belt. He pushes off. You think of all that has happened so far. But you obey Arthur’s wishes, that you will convince your parents that this man saved your life and has fallen in love with you in three days, that he wished for your hand in marriage. 

“He… He saved me, I- he saved my life,” You swallow. It really is the truth, you most likely would have frozen to death without Arthur’s hospitality. Arthur seems apprehensive of this situation, as if waiting for some terrible event to transpire. But you know your father and the clap on Arthur’s back takes only him by surprise. He's grabbing Arthur's hand and shaking it. 

“Please, come inside,” He’s motioning for everyone to join. You come inside to your grandmother sitting by the fire. She tosses a lazy look over her shoulder. You come to her side but she seems to waver. 

“Is she ok?” You reach for her hand but she’s been like this for a while, fading from the world while staying in it. 

“Yes, she's just fine. Did you ever make it to the doctor?” The question seems to pester Arthur but he’s distracted by your father asking for his name. 

“Arthur… Arthur Morgan,” He’s looking to you for some sort of direction but you're not sure what to offer him. He lets an easy grin slip over his features while he shakes your fathers hand. You can tell it’s a bit strained. 

“No, I got lost,” you say, feeling incompetent and childish as always. You grip your hands, fidgeting. Looking up with your face tilted downwards, you look at the man who stands in your family room, looking out of place. He seems to notice, trying to bring his high and wide shoulders down a little, keeping his limbs close. Perhaps to seem smaller than he is. He bows his head a little, hiding his eyes beneath the shadow cast by the hat he wears. “Arthur let me into his home,” 

The look he gives you with his blazing blue eyes is not one you’ve seen on him before. A sort of satisfied pride, different from his normal smug expression. His hands hold one another as he stands tall and strong. You bring your gaze to the fire. 

“Well, I’m glad he was there, couldn’t have you frozen to death out there,” both of your parents give him appreciative simpers. 

Every comment they make acting as if it wasn’t at their insistence you went out irks Arthur. You can tell by the way he lowers his hat over his eyes again, a small sneer pulling at his lip. You just nod. Your parents stand unaware, watching the two of you, the way you stand closer to Arthur than to them when they let you. Your mother gives you an odd look and you shrug slightly. 

Your pa motions for all of you to sit in front of the fire in some wooden chairs while your grandmother shuffles to her day bed, your mother at her side to help her. You sit next to Arthur, his heavy footsteps have his spurs jingling until he sets himself down, creaking the chair. His place at your side doesn’t go unnoticed by your father who raises his brow. Your Ma joins all of you, next to your father. 

“I went looking for you, you know, couldn’t get through the snow,” your father looks happy to see you. You smile lightly. You’re unsure what to say. 

“Thank you again for letting her stay with you, Mr. Morgan,” your mother snaps upwards. “Would you like something to eat, drink?” 

“No, ma’am, I’m- uh I’m fine,” you’re surprised he seems so unadjusted. He could shoot a man with ease but can’t speak to your mother the way he cockily talks to you. You suppose it would be much too strange for him to do so while playing perfect suitor.

She sits down again. Your father has his pipe on the table which he stuffs with tobacco. He has it lit in a second or two and he puffs smoke. 

“So, what’s going on that you came with a cart on Lucky? You certainly didn’t have one when you left,” Your father asks point blank. He doesn’t mind the sudden change of tone. It makes your stomach roil. You had hoped you wouldn’t have to talk about it so soon, but your father makes quick work of getting down to brass tacks. You turn to Arthur. He looks at you with sureness in his features, strong jaw set and big hands clenched over his thighs. You don’t know what he’s going to say. 

“I intend on marryin’ your daughter,” his words are blunt and stun your parents. He matches your fathers matter-of-fact way of speaking. Your parents stare between the both of you oddly. Obviously, perhaps not expecting this turn of events. A woman as young as you bringing a man around, having been unaccompanied for three days now. Then your father removes the pipe from his lip. 

“I don’t see why not,” he nods easily, as if deciding between jumping off a cliff or walking away. You’re shocked he would agree so readily. Hardly a decision or a deliberation. Your mother looks to your father, questioning him. “You saved her life, after all,” the way he words it makes it sound like by saving you, Arthur is entitled to you. 

“Dear, isn't he a bit…she… she’s quite young,” Your mother puts up some brief resistance. You look at Arthur, whose brows crinkle slightly. You know Arthur is much older than you, more experienced in things of the world. But you had never thought too much about it, hadn’t even asked how old he was. What did it matter when he was taking you to bed, when he had you in his home? What bearing does it have on anything? You doubt Arthur would have been persuaded to leave you well enough alone should you have pointed out how much older he was. If anything, he would derive pleasure from such a comment. 

You don’t mind his age much, really, you hadn’t even particularly noticed it too much. Not having much experience with men makes Arthur the baseline, the default. Younger men could have been different but you wouldn’t know anything about it. Arthur is all you have in that aspect. You look at the weathered lines over his features, the lines at the corners of his eyes, the freckles from staying in the sun too long, scars and the small dip of his flesh just over his cheeks. You didn’t think any of him as ugly. Only rugged, sturdy. You had come to like how he looked, how in charge of himself he was. He had a strong jaw and brow and an even more distinctive profile. There is only certainty in his eyes, only his usual prideful stare. 

“If Arthur cares for her, would care for her, isn't that quite enough? She won't be young forever, ” Your Pa’s dated ideals are at the forefront of this conversation. You fumble with your fingers and pick at your nails. Arthur doesn’t stop you this time. You knew your father wasn't too traditional but he hasn't even thought to ask if you liked Arthur at all. Perhaps he assumed you did. How little he cares for your opinion does hurt you, makes your heart twist and your stomach ache. You hate that a part of you is happy that you’ll be with Arthur now. You’re conflicted, torn between shame, contentment, and sorrow. 

“Well, I guess I’m just a very lucky man,” You think he can tell by the way your face falls how crushed you are. Arthur’s deep voice resounds from beside you, you hadn't expected him to speak very much. When you look at him, he has a soft smile. His words do little to help but they still have an effect on you. It isn't the first time he's called himself lucky for having you but this time is more meaningful to you. It’s a somewhat private meaning he intends for you and only you. You let a small smile perk up your face. 

“I suppose, perhaps it is time for you to be your own woman, now,” your Ma nods solemnly. 

You’re not sure why this comes as a surprise to you. But it does. Arthur looks at you, the look on his face is unreadable. Maybe he knows how odd it is that your parents are so willing to leave you to him. Or perhaps he’s happy that his desire is about to be fulfilled. You guess he expected some sort of fight. Like he would prefer to fight for you, to solidify himself as the most important thing in your life. He’s already proven he can care for you so your father is calmly discussing the marriage with your ma. Their voices drown out in your ears, no longer assigning meaning to the sounds. You look at Arthur's hand, the way his fingers scrunch up and form a fist as he crosses his arms over his chest. A jittery exhale is all you have to add to the conversation.

Perhaps the other girl he had was worth the trouble her father had gone through to make sure she didn’t marry a man like Arthur. Your parents are just happy to see you married, maybe they consider you homely enough to be lucky to have anyone seeking your hand. An ugly reality but a likely one to you. Your focus is so much that you don’t notice that you're biting your tongue until it hurts, gripping your knees hard. All you want is to be away from here but that isn’t happening. 

It’s a strange air that settles over your family room. It’s only broken by your mother bidding you to your room so you can pack things away in a chest for you to take with you. She says the both of you should leave the men to talk. You rise and walk to your bedroom, too dazed to bother turning to Arthur.

Once you’re in your bedroom, your mother closes the door behind you. She pulls out the chest she used to keep old blankets in. She starts to pack away your clothes, your baubles from when you were a babe. A blanket from when you were just born. Your mind is in too many places at once. You pick up some books, trinkets your father made for you. The room is small, not much for you to bring with you. Just like Arthur said. You watch your life disappear into the wooden box, to be taken away so you could live it with Arthur.

“He seems like a good man. You’re lucky to find one like that, just by chance,” your mother speaks into the brittle quiet of the room. Arthur can be a good man, he has been a good man before. But you’re not sure that he is one. You simply nod along. 

“This isn’t happening because… because you’re with his child or some other such atrocity?” Her tone is clear. You think he spills all of his spend on your thighs or belly to avoid that outcome. There certainly was an atrocity, or at least she would think so but it won’t end in you being with his child. For now. Wasn’t that what every man wanted with a wife? Maybe Arthur didn’t want children but you had no way of knowing but to ask him. You can’t imagine yourself working up the nerve to ask him that. 

“No, he was very… proper with me,” you lie through your teeth. You’re trying not to laugh like a loon at how untrue that statement is. Trying to be convincing when usually you’re anything but. You wince privately, sensing your own awful lying, hoping you can fool your mother. 

“He doesn’t look the gentlemanly type but looks can be deceiving. I’ve not seen a gentleman but those guns are something. And that coat, he must be quite the hunter, even your father has never given you a coat like that,” She's excited to talk about him. Like he was a boy you liked, not a grown man to marry you. “He seems a bit old for you but it's not too uncommon, a man like him wanting a young wife,” 

“Yes, he was very nice,” your voice is flat and short as you fold your clothes away. You tuck the things too homely under the bed, perhaps your mother will find them later. Her voice floats over, making you freeze. Like the icy air has drifted in from a drafty window, it feels like the room drops several degrees.

“He did something to you, didn’t he?” you don't try to face her, biting your lip. Your hands scrunch into the fabric of the clothes you were folding. You always were a terrible liar. 

“No,” You finally decide to look at her, trying to keep your response simple, leaving no room for interpretation but it doesn't work the way you’d hoped. Her eyes focus on the bruised mark on your neck; you had completely forgotten about it. You slap your hand over it out of instinct but there’s no hiding the truth. 

“No, he didn’t, Ma, he didn’t,” you plead desperately. You can feel the tightness in your throat when you realize she doesn’t believe you. Her face drops, saddens deeply. Her eyes go dark and well with tears. Her jaw falls open as if to ask you what he did, to portray that she is curious but simultaneously would rather hear anything over what Arthur might have done with you. Done to you. You feel your lip tremble. Something within you shrivels in dread. Heat crawls up your body, feeling clammy and warm all at once. 

“Please, don’t, don’t tell Pa,” The pace of your heart picks up, standing up clumsily. Her hand comes to her mouth, shaking her head as tears drip down her face. “He could kill him, please,” You beg her and she refuses, rushing out. You go to stop her as she slams the door open to confront him. 

Try as you might, you can't reach her in time. She sees Arthur, stomping towards him. 

“What did you do to her?! You tell me-” Your father is confused, grabbing your mother. You’re an animal, frozen in the stare of a predator. You can see Arthur's face become severe, his glare fixed on you. His brows pinch and his mouth is set in a hard line. It’s the angriest you’ve ever seen him. His posture adjusts into something more threatening, readying his body for whatever comes next. His features pull into an unnaturally cool expression. Then he’s grabbing you, turning you quickly. Your back is pressed against his chest before you can protest, can even think of trying to run. 

His arm is iron over your chest and neck. You grab onto it as you lose your balance, relying on him to keep you upright. You gasp and scramble, going completely still when you hear the sound, the slide of metal on leather. His pearl handled revolver is leveled upward towards your family. The whole cabin goes quiet, your mother’s blustering screams and your father’s confused babbling falling like rocks into a lake. An eerie silence descends over you. 

All you can hear is the sting of the quiet and your own breathing, the smallest shift of Arthur’s boot scraping the wooden floor. “Arthur, please, no,” You whine, wiggling just a bit. The last thing you want is to provoke him into squeezing the trigger. His finger is pressed up against it, ready for anything. He bows his head to whisper a bone chilling ‘shh’ in your ear. It makes the smallest hairs of yours stand on end, your heart dropping into your gut. Terror keeps you stuck to him.

“Think you've gone and said too much already, darlin’” you can hear the mocking humor dripping from his words, the usually affectionate term for you has a sharp edge. His voice, so low and venomous, right in your ear makes you shiver. You swallow slowly, fear courses through your veins. Unwillingly, your thoughts float to Arthur holding his gun to that thief, his flippant manner of taking lives. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that whatever happens here doesn’t end in blood. 

OK! sorry for the cliffhanger but i couldnt say no to spicing things up, lol. evil arthur being a meanie 😈 arthur being a grumpy driver is everything to me, what i would do to wake up to arthur saying good morning sunshine to me.. 😳lh arthur or not hes a cornball LMAO lemme know what you guys think i would love to hear it 😳😭💖tysm for reading !!

Series Masterlist

[starry-907]

thanks to a few posts in the community and a sonic au, i've started vaugely thinking abt a possible musician/band/idol au for ava, with a dash of "hannah montana" for intrigue.

more under the cut cuz i already have some thoughts abt this sdfkljjkjddffr

so! this au is essentially taking almost every main character in ava/avm and giving them some level of ties to music.

most of what i have is character thoughts atm so! let's discuss the hollowheads and the colorgang!

second/orange

the main character is second, who performs as an idol under the alter ego of orange (a measure that their siblings suggested to keep them safe from paparazzi and fans outside of performing). i don't have designs for the two outfits quite yet cuz i just came up with this, but as orange they wear a mask on their lower face and take a lot of measures to make their idol look different from their casual look.

one day they accompany dark to an open mic night and bump into the color gang, an aspiring band, and wind up helping them perform. and it's really fun performing without pressure, and none of them recognized second so...

(they wind up doing keyboard for the group. their voice is fairly recognizable so they don't wanna risk it)

"orange's" real identity is a hotly debated topic among their fans, folks often try to piece things together going off of the vauge details they give in interviews

vic and chosen

vic and chosen were an idol duo years before second took the stage. in this au they're twins, so that wound up part of their appeal. however their manager, alan, was still inexperienced with managing, and wound up pushing the duo too hard and ignoring concerns, leading to vic having a bad accident during a meet and greet, leading to the two retiring shortly after (vic due to trauma, and chosen out of solidarity with their sibling)

when second told them about becoming an idol, both were concerned. chosen helped come up with "orange's" look, while vic was more unsure. (and both still weren't ready to forgive alan yet which, fair.)

chosen occasionally joins dark for performances (and to make sure he doesn't blow out his voice), while vic moved to produce for a quickly growing group called "the mercs" (they'd be such a boy band we know this)

dark

dark is attempting to become an independent artist, not wanting his style to get muddied up by record labels or producers (plus he was older than second when vic had their accident. he remembers better the events that led up to it). he's picked up a bit of a following.

dark does mainly a strange mix between heavy metal and breakcore (and risks destroying their vocal cords every performance, nuch to their siblings' chargrin). they've gotten chosen involved in a few songs, and has offered to let vic sing on a song if they ever get comfortable enough again. for the most part with second he's content just taking them to some of his performances, he doesn't wanna risk them getting recognized.

the color gang!

an up and coming band known for it's style of music. a bit strange sometimes, but in a fun way.

green is the defacto leader, as well as lead guitarist and singer (with the rest of the cg providing accompanying vocals as needed). he's also the one who invited second to play with the group (still dunno exactly why but it does occur). is a fan of orange, but unsure abt the speculation on their identity.

blue plays standing bass, providing an interesting contrast. she's the quietest of the group in interviews and in songs as well, but provides a lovely sounding supporting harmony with her instrument and when she sings. has the most eclectic style of the group as well.

yellow handles percussion! she has one of those midi fighters with all the buttons that has a bunch of different percussion noises saved (also a drum kit if needed). she also tends to help with soundchecks. she's also a fan of dark's music

red provides supporting guitar or really any other needed instrument. no do not ask why they needed a triangle for a song. he also tends to be the most energetic on the occasion they get interviews. keeps trying to convince green to let his pig ruben be the band's mascot (it goes about as successfully as you'd think).

[bluemoon1331]

As promised, a collection of god-like boys below. Though there are three more to come, I'm just gonna keep them separate for their worlds.

Vectrus: A deity of storms and natural disasters. Clouds form wherever he goes, and a thunderhead drapes like a cap around and down from his head. His face is split by snow white (left) and stormy gray darkness. His eyes are a luminous, electric blue. Has no mouth, communicates through his lightning and effect on the environment, His body is a display of shifting clouds, both heavy blues and grays.

Aur (Or): The deity controlling the day and night cycle. His body shifts to match the whatever side of the planet he's on. When the sun is up, bright yellow-white rays beam from his disk-shaped head. After the moon emerges, the colors subside, becoming a gentler yellow tinged by silver and a tint of rainbow. His skin does much the same, shifting from baby blues to twilight, reflecting the ocean and stars.

Dorados (Door-ah-dos): This delightful deity is in charge of fortune and luck. Unlike most other ancient gods, he has maintained constant contact among mortals throughout the centuries (though still keeps his existence under tight wraps in the current era). As such, is prone to taking on two different appearances. One is more human-like, though he refuses to make himself look completely like a human. Finds it beneath him. This one has lush dark purple and wine red shades, two colors often associated with power. Metal rays frame his visage, a play on both the rise of advancing technology and comparing himself to the sun that keeps the world spinning. His favorite outfit is a scarlet dress shirt and sleek black jacket and slacks, trimmed in gold accents. Though he certainly owns plenty more. His eyes are a piercing eerie green in his smaller body. When in proper, giant deity form, he is bathed in decadent robes of white silk, gold lace, and and jewels. Ancient symbols adorns the sleeves and sides, their meaning more pertaining to his influence over luck than fortune. His face morphs to a bright forest green and shifting watercolor of nebula-like patterns (on the left). The right side of his face is the only one with an eye, which changes to pure black, save for a large four pointed star that shines like a light in the dark, bright and glinting like an opal.

________*****____________

Right, there's them, now a little delving into world building ideas, lol.

The reader in this is a bit of an average person. Has a quiet life, pays their bills, peruses the internet. In all honesty, they live a boring life, even by their standards. Which is why they appreciate what things they do have in it, inside and out. They love greeting the day and settling in with the night, peering out their window to truly admire the skies above and chat at it. Any time a storm blows in, they also welcome it with open arms, enraptured for hours, occasionally commenting on its beauty. As such, Vectrus and Aur are the first to notice you. A mortal admiring their craft is nothing new, but this one feels strangely deeper, to them. Vectrus is the first to approach you, much to your shock and terrified awe. Then along comes Aur, whom treats you gently and loves doting on you, but forms a bitter rivalry with Vectrus because of it. While the two deities are giving each other death glares, Dorados pops into the picture, casually strutting through and taking a shine to you after noting two other deities duking it out over some seemingly unimportant mortal. If that sort of luck doesn't get his attention, he doesn't know what will. Slithers on in to yoink you and offer you all sorts of power and fame. Which you reject. Cause you kinda don't want that sort of attention or money. You've already got your hands full as is.

Now you're stuck in the middle of three god-like beings, one of whom is temperamental as hell, the second an easy jealous airhead, and a third who is far more forward and insistent on giving you things you don't want or need. It becomes quite the nightmare, especially with how fast you are definitely falling for them. RIP Y/N. They need a drink for sure.

[legionofnone]

Click here to read ch13 of 'A Sea of Glass...' on AO3!

Title: "Stimpy the Doula" Pairing: Harvey x Chloe Fandom: Stardew Valley Rating: Explicit

Summary:

Harvey's sister Claire is in labor, and he's got to be the one to deliver the baby.

CW: Birthing babies, sickening cuteness

Excerpt:

[Chloe’s POV] [May 15th]

I’m scrolling through Pinterest, looking at floral arrangements, as Harvey meticulously paints pastel pink and yellow stripes on my toenails.

Abigail pads behind him, pausing to inspect his work. “You know, if the whole ‘being a doctor’ thing doesn’t pan out, you could always open a nail salon. You’d absolutely kill,” she remarks, loudly slurping the last dregs from her drink.

Nearby, Claire bounces irritably on a yoga ball, scowling. “Yeah, well, it better fucking pan out, because I need this baby OUT.”

Harvey glances calmly at his watch. “I take it that’s another one?”

“FUCK YOU!” Claire growls through gritted teeth.

He chuckles softly. “Seven minutes apart now. Still hanging in there?”

“SHUT UP!”

Harvey rolls his eyes, entirely unfazed. “See if I ever help you birth another baby,” he says dryly, as if his sister isn’t actively in labor on our living room floor while he casually gives me a pedicure.

Claire throws her head back and howls, “GODDAMNIT THIS HURTS! ABBY! THE TENNIS BALLS!”

“Jeez, hang on!” Abigail huffs defensively, rummaging through a bag near the door before pulling out two tennis balls. She glances helplessly at Harvey. “What am I supposed to do with these again?”

“Just roll them on her lower back during contractions. Oh, and please note how long each contraction lasts,” he instructs, carefully painting another stripe on my big toe.

“How do I know when it’s over?” Abby asks, clearly uncertain.

“Oh, trust me, it'll be obvious,” he says mildly, switching from yellow polish to pink.

“WHEN DO I GET THE FUCKING DRUGS, ASSHOLE?!” Claire bellows.

“You requested a natural birth, Claire. No drugs, remember?” Harvey calmly reminds her. “I did warn you. You explicitly told me not to let you cave.”

“I WAS FUCKING WRONG! THAT BRADLEY CLASS SAID I COULD DO THIS, BUT THEY FUCKING LIED!”

“Yeah, personally, I wouldn’t attempt it without drugs myself,” he muses casually. “But the body’s capable of incredible things. Don’t sell yourself short.” He blows gently on my freshly painted toe.

Claire slumps forward, breathing heavily, “Fuck, these are getting intense.”

Harvey glances briefly at Abigail. “Hear how she’s stopped screaming? That means the contraction’s over.”

“Huh. It’s almost like you’ve done this before,” Abby deadpans, jotting down the timing. “That was about a minute.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Harvey’s face, as if that means something significant. I wouldn’t know. The whole thing is surreal, fascinating, and honestly a bit overwhelming to watch. Claire’s water broke several hours ago, and instead of calling Harvey, she waddled on down here in a panic. At some point we’ll have to relocate to the clinic, but for now, she’s decided to labor in our living room.

“How do I make this go faster?” Claire whines miserably. “Five hours already, waaahh I hate it so much.”

“We could start by walking to the clinic,” Harvey suggests lightly, as he closes the nail polish, smiling warmly up at me. “All done, darling girl.”

“You seem awfully relaxed, Dr. Klein,” I tease, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Her labor is refreshingly textbook. I could handle this in my sleep,” he responds breezily, though a sly smile tugs at his lips.

“I think you’ve missed this,” I accuse playfully.

His expression softens, becoming earnest, “I think you’re right.”

Stimpy, my obscenely large ginger tabby cat, has been pacing restlessly around Claire ever since she arrived. He won’t leave her side, occasionally yowling at us, which is entirely out of character for him. He keeps rubbing insistently against her legs, his attention growing more intense right before each contraction hits.

He starts head-butting her again. Claire groans, exhausted, as she reaches down to scratch behind his ears. “Hey, Stimpson. Why am I suddenly so fascinating to you? Trying to help me have this baby or something?”

He offers no answer beyond another enthusiastic head-butt.

“FUCK!”

Harvey glances down at his watch again. “Five minutes that time. Okay, it’s officially time to go,” he announces, getting to his feet and brushing himself off.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Omg if you want can you write the fluff alphabet for Keith pls??? 💜

FUCK YEAH I LOVE ME SOME SOFT KEEF ❤️‍🔥 Thanks again for the rq anon 😘 Got the fluff template from @the-coldest-goodbye cuz I’m lazy 🙃

Keith- Fluff Alphabet 💌

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Okay, in public or in front of like literally anyone, he’s not super affectionate. He’s still nice to you and will occasionally reach for your hand in front of other voltron members. He just doesn’t like PDA very much. He doesn’t like the attention it draws to him. Behind closed doors tho…omg this boy is like so clingy. He just wants to hold you for the rest of his life, you’re so nice to hold. He likes to show affection physically rather than emotionally. He’s kinda dumb when it comes to this romance relationship stuff, he has a hard time explaining his feelings so he’d rather show you how much he loves you with hugs and kisses and cuddles and gentle touches.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You guys had to have clicked right away when you met. I’m sure Keith is difficult to befriend let alone date so he probably really enjoyed your company and support as a friend to keep you around. He probably felt really safe and at ease with you, like he could be his true authentic self around you. You guys really lean on each other. And because he feels so himself around you, you fall for the purest version of Keith, the real Keith. And he falls for your loyalty and kindness and faith in him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

KEEF LOVES CUDDLES WITH U OMG. Like I said, he’s emotionally constipated and has a hard time voicing his love for you so he shows it instead and due to your busy schedules, you only get alone time at night before bed and early in the morning if you’re both up before your alarm. So every night before you both doze off and every morning about an hour before your alarm goes off, he’s stuck to you like a koala on a tree branch. It’s the best couple hours of his entire day, everyday. He will cuddle you in any way he can. He’ll be the big spoon or the little spoon, he’ll hold you while you’re facing each other, if he’s in a good deep sleep he’ll lay his head on your chest or stomach with an arm slung over you as he snores. He just wants to be touching you. He needs the physical contact.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yes and no. Keith definitely wants this war to be over and he wants to go home and have a normal life with you but he’s also never going to give up on helping his friends protect the universe. If he had to, he’d stay in space forever just to protect all of it. But he does occasionally daydream about you and him living together somewhere in the desert or the country maybe where there’s not a lot of people and it’s quiet. Keith is a mess in the kitchen, please keep him away from the stove. He can help you cut stuff up or make the salad but other than that, he’ll burn everything and anything you ask him to cook. Cleaning on the other hand, he can do that. Just imagine this…Keith wearing old scrappy clothes with his hair pulled back by a headband or bandana and he’s deep cleaning your whole apartment/house with those big yellow dish gloves on. Omg hes ur housewife. Sure he can be messy and disorganized at times too but he’ll roll up his sleeves and deep clean when it’s obvious it needs to be done. Just plz cook for him and he’ll clean for you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Keith had to break up with you, I seriously feel like he would still want to be your friend. As much as Keith blows up and loses his temper, the break up would be soft and slow and gently. He wouldn’t want to lose you completely so he’d ask you to be his friend still. So things didn’t work romantically…it’s fine, just don’t leave him behind. He still has love for you. He’ll always care about you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Keith ain’t the marriage type. He’s just one of those people who thinks marriage is stupid and pointless and too expensive and dramatic. He doesn’t need a big fancy ceremony or a piece of signed paper to prove his love for you. Screw it. He’s gonna call you his wife/husband/partner/spouse no matter what anyone else says. If you really want to get properly married tho, he’d agree and go along with it to make you happy. But he’d be in charge of the guest list…which will only have like 10 people on it bc he also doesn’t like crowds or big parties.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, he’s so gentle with you. He’s always worried he’s gonna hurt you or make you uncomfortable. He holds you so tenderly, he kisses you so lightly. Keith spends most days fighting off training bots, sparring with Shiro and often engaging in battle with an actual enemy. When it comes to you, he treats you like a one-of-a-kind piece of stained glass. You’re the one person he’s soft with. Emotionally…he’s stubborn and short tempered and easily overwhelmed. He’ll snap at you every now and then, he can’t help it. He’s never mad or annoyed with you, it just comes out in his voice and his gestures are harsh as he speaks to you. He tries very hard to be patient and understanding with you. He’s really trying. Give him a break plz.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Keith loves your hugs, it’s one of the most comforting things you can offer him. He likes to hug you a lot, he’ll just randomly hug you throughout your day. But when he’s upset or frustrated or feeling stressed and scared, he’ll hug you really tight and for a while. He’ll just hold you close, arms wrapped fully around your torso as he hides his face in your neck or shoulder. Hugs make him feel so much better, they remind him that he is real and has feelings and that someone cares about him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I think Keith would wait a while to actually say it to your face. He would be really nervous and wouldn’t want to rush things or make you feel like you have to say it back. In the meantime, he often slips the phrase to you sneakily and without grabbing your attention first. He’ll mumble it to himself after you finish a good round of training with him and he’s glowing with pride at how amazing you are. He’ll whisper it softly when you fall asleep next to him. He’ll mouth the words as he hugs you tightly, imagining how the words would sound if you said them back to him right now. He just needs time…

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Keith gets extremely jealous but not all the time. He sees you talking to some cool alien or even joking around with Lance, he’s whatever about it. He trusts you so he’s not worried. Now if another galra tried to approach you, oh boy is there gonna be a fight. It’s just a galra thing, he feels that they are more of a threat bc he is also part galra. One time, another member of the blade was standing just a little too close to you and Keith didn’t know what he was saying to you but he just had a bad feeling about it. But he wasn’t trying to flirt with you at all, he was actually asking about Keith and how long you’ve know him, just small talk. Keith stomped over and straight up pushed you behind him, glaring at his teammate in front of him. You had to explain that it was all innocent chit chat and calm him down. Yeah, he’s dramatic asf when he wants to be. He’ll kill a bitch for you, no hesitation.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses with Keith are always soft and slow and lingering. He doesn’t move at a fast pace, even when making out. He takes his time and enjoys it and cherishes the moment. He’s also not sure exactly how to kiss so he goes slow and follows your lead. It’s not often that you two kiss, only in the privacy of your room when you both know you won’t be interrupted or occasionally you’ll share a lingering gentle kiss in the hangar in front of the team after a long and scary mission. Keith loves kissing your lips, he likes that he can feel you kiss him back. He’ll kiss your cheeks and forehead sometimes but he craves the feeling of your lips returning the gesture, ya know? He really likes when you kiss pretty much anywhere that’s not his face. Kiss that boy on the shoulder, neck, back, hands or arms and he’s a flustered mess. Not that he minds face kisses from you tho.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s so awkward omfg. He is kind of on the fence about kids. He likes them but he’s unsure how to act around them. He mostly just listens to kids ramble about stuff and he smiles and nods along and offers the occasional “oh really? Wow. That’s crazy.” He would like a kid of his own one day but not anytime soon. He needs time to learn and mature before he has his own kid.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Pretty much every morning with Keith is spent the same way…he’ll wake up earlier than the alarm is set just to cuddle and love on you before you have to go about your busy day. This (and at night before you guys fall asleep) is the only time you two can really spend quality time together. Fighting in an intergalactic war leaves very little time for you two to hang out and bond. So he loves sleepy, early mornings with you where neither of you talk, you just hold each other and place soft kisses on each others face.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights go pretty much the same way as mornings. The first hour that you two are awake and the last hour or so before you two fall asleep is spent in silence while you just hold each other close and cherish the moment. You don’t get much time to be clingy and romantic so bed time is the best time. He’ll plop into bed with you and wrap you in his arms as you’re both dozing off.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Keith would take some time to fully open up to you. I’m sure he probably took a while to open up to Shiro too. He’s just a closed off, secretive kind of person. He doesn’t want his business on display for everyone to know. As friends, he probably told you about his home life and his dad but it wasn’t until you two had been dating for a while that he finally let down his walls and told you all of the things that weigh on him. He trusts you with his life now.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

👀 boy has a very short temper and gets very easily annoyed and over stimulated. He��s definitely snapped at you before and he will most likely snap at you again. He’s always quick to apologize and try to explain himself. He just loses it sometimes, there’s a lot going on and he has a hard time coping. He’ll bottle everything up and stay quiet until it all boils over and explodes out of him. He snaps at pretty much anyone and everyone, don’t take it personally. He’s even yelled at Shiro before. He’s working on it tho…he swears.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Both??? He’ll definitely forget things every now and then, sorry he’s got so many thoughts in his head at one time, sometimes the things you tell him go in one ear and out the other. BUT he does remember a lot about you too. He’ll never forget the gorgeous color of your eyes and your favorite food and your favorite color. He’ll remember many cute moments throughout your relationship but also if you mention that one time that one thing happened, he’ll be like “I did? Oh…okay if you say so.” He might forget an anniversary or your birthday too, don’t be mad. He’s really sorry…just remind him and he’ll make it up to you, pinky promise.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Keith’s favorite moment in your whole relationship is when you first kissed him. It wasn’t on the lips, you had kissed him on the cheek when he was frustrated with not being able to beat a certain level on the training simulator. He was just having a moment, shouting out in anger as he flopped down on the floor. As he tried to catch his breath, you approached him without saying a word and sat in front of him with a sweet smile. He watched you for a second before you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek then followed it with the words “Don’t give up. Keep trying…I believe in you, Keith.” He’s pretty sure that’s the moment he knew he really loved you and he also knew that you really loved him back. He felt so stupid and ugly in that moment of weakness and anger but you showed him unconditional love anyways. He’ll never forget that.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Keith is very protective of you, especially when you are out in the middle of battle with the team. He often insists that you and him stick together regardless of what Shiro or Allura have to say. He’ll protect you by keeping a close eye on you and having your back when you need him. You do pretty much the same for him. You watch out for each other always.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

As far as dates, anniversaries and gifts, Keith’s terrible. He’s never been in a relationship before so he has no idea what to do. If you give him ideas and share what you are planning to do for him, he’ll take mental notes and learn from you and then he’ll try his best those things. With everyday tasks tho, Keith is the sweetest and most attentive partner ever. He asks you how you slept every morning, he’ll ask you if you’ve eaten yet today, if he hasn’t seen you around all day he’ll go searching for you just to check up on ya. He’ll bring you water in the training room if he’s not already there with you, he’ll kiss you every morning and every night, he’ll play with your hair and gently scratch your back when you’re stressed or upset, he’ll listen intently when you need to rant or when you’re excitedly explaining something you like to him. He’s a great bf, he’s so involved with you. Such a sweet pea ❤️‍🔥

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Keith loves to shut himself off from you, especially when you’re having a bad day yourself. He feels like a burden sometimes, like he’s damaged goods that you never asked for. He knows he can trust you and confide in you but he worries that he’ll only make you more overwhelmed and stressed if he tells you how he’s feeling. Most of his bad days are spent avoiding you in hopes of not burdening you with his moody attitude. You always end up finding him and convincing him to open up to you. Once he gets it all off his chest tho, he feels soooo relieved. He just doesn’t want you to ever feel like his feelings matter more than yours.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

NOT AT ALL. He doesn’t give a fuck, especially with you. I mean…you guys are already dating and he’s never been super into his appearance so ??? why would he start worrying about it now? He has other things to worry about. He’s clean and well kept so …what now?

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yesssss, he’s a wreck when he’s away from you for too long. It’s one things to be away from you all day, but when missions are going on for days or weeks at a time with the blade of marmora, he gets so depressed and also so much more irritated. You’re the light of his life so when he can’t see you for several days in a row, he starts to unravel. You just bring him so much peace of mind, without you he doesn’t know how to cope with his emotions. He has no one else to talk to…💔

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

HE SLEEPS SO FUCKIN GOOD WITH YOU IN HIS BED NEXT TO HIM!!! You’ve walked in on him sleeping before and he’s pretty quiet, but whenever you sleep beside him, bro snores like a bear as he clings to you. Sometimes he wakes you with his loud ass snores and his aggressive snuggling but he’s having the best sleep of his entire life rn, you can’t bring yourself to wake him. One time, you gently nudged him awake and whispered “You’re snoring so loud. Turn on your side.” And he straight up went “Huh? Oh…okay.” then fell right back into his loud snoring a second later. Sorry but you kind of signed up for this.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

The only turn off for Keith is a liar. If he can’t trust his partner, he doesn’t even want to be with them. He wants you to be able to tell him anything and he wants to be able to trust you with everything. Just don’t ever lie to him and there’s nothing that can tear you two apart.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Not only does this mf snore loud as hell and suffocate you with his cuddles but he also drools sometimes. One time he drooled on your face and the grossed out scream that came from you startled him awake. He apologized profusely but you just had to tell the rest of the team about it the next morning. He’s never gonna live this down, it’s just too funny.

[gojoandtojisleftnut]

jjk men’s reaction to your vs catwalk

Pairings: gojo x reader, toji x reader, geto x reader, nanami x reader

Genre: headcanon

A/n & possible tw: I want this to be all inclusive for everyone even though it’s a Victoria’s Secret show. Think of it more a Fenty one not just skinny and tall but with the VS style if that makes sense. I’ll put references of each fit. <3 fem reader, fluff, suggestive content

✓ Gojo

This bitch brought everyone he knew to come and see you. Firsts years second, third, even Gaku.

He’s wearing his best suit. He needs to look the best for your big day.

You haven’t showed him your fit or told him when you’re coming out so it’s all a surprise for him.

He’s a Taylor swift stan, I’m convinced so this is great for him.

When he sees you open the show wearing all white and huge angel wings he goes crazy. He’s convinced it’s because you wanted to match him.

He gets up from his seat and starts clapping and cheering like a mad man.

He tells everyone around him your his girlfriend. Of course he receives weird looks.

He made Shoko record you with his phone because he claimed he wanted to focus on the real thing and not the camera.

At the after party he refuses to leave your side. You make him meet all the other angels all while his hands are around your waist holding you close to him. Occasionally giving your wet neck kisses and promising you to treat you right at home.

Gojo reference: vs fashion show 2013/behati opening

✓ Nanami

He’s so nervous. It isn’t something he’s used to, the whole scenery.

He’s brought Gojo with him. Big mistake, he acts like a child all he wants to do is see girls in their underwear.

Since dating him you always tried to match your stuff with the color yellow, gold and colors similar to them cause it always reminded you of him.

So when they gave you a beige set with gold accessories and yellow and orange feathers you were in cloud nine.

‘Sexyback’ starts playing and Justin Timberlake is on stage. The song choice making him nervous.

Then you come out. His whole face turns red seeing you looking so confident wearing his colors.

He’s so modest about it. And kind of embarrassed because Gojo is next to him and he got to see you like that.

He claps and when you turn to look at him blowing him a kiss he dies right then and there.

When the show is over and you’re at the after party he’s still not over it but keeps calm holding your hand while you introduce him to everyone. He congratulated you with a huge bouquet of flowers.

Nanami reference: vs fashion show 2006/gisele opening.

✓ Toji

Daddy Toji takes a lot of pride into the whole thing

He doesn’t know anything about your outfit nor when you come out .

I feel like Toji would either like dark colors on you like black or dark red or pastel pink no in between so he’s hoping for either one of them.

He likes the rock feel of the stage so far and then you come out.

Opening the show wearing exactly red and black. Sheer panties only a small part covering your private parts.

He feels like he’s in heaven.

He doesn’t bother to film he knows it gonna broadcast so he takes in the view.

He doesn’t like the idea of other men looking at you in this state but he reminds himself that he’s the one who gets to fuck you later.

At the after party you barely manage to introduce him to everyone. He just pulls you away to make out with you.

He’s so impatient to go home and fuck your brains out but he knows you guys have to stay and doesn’t want to just fuck around in the bathroom.

Long night ahead of you.

Toji reference: vs fashion show 2017/ Candice opening

✓ Geto

He’s a simple man really. Whatever you wear he’ll be happy.

He’s nervous for you but he’s calm and collected just like Nanami.

He has Gojo and Shoko with him for support.

When the music starts playing he lets his nerves get the best of him and he shakes his leg uncontrollably.

Then you walk out. With a fuchsia set so simple but really it’s enough for him to get him going.

You look at him and wink and he returns the biggest smile while clapping for you.

Gojo pats his back proud for his friend

Till the moment you disappear behind the stage he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

At the after party he’s very excited. He meets everyone shaking everyone’s hand but never taking his eyes off you. He congratulated you with a lot of kisses and dancing.

Geto reference: vs fashion show 2009/ Alessandra opening

[biillyhargroves]

"You're shivering. Here, take my jacket." This just SCREAMS secretly-chivalrous Billy to me (and maybe also teasing from Robin about the "boyfriend jacket"?)

this here is love (fic requests open)

Winter sweeps through Hawkins overnight, brisk breezes gone cold, storm clouds dusting quiet streets with a thin layer of snow that scrapes and crunches beneath Billy's boots. His breath, sighed between drunken kisses, ghosts in the night, soft white wisps chasing starlight.

"Easy," he breathes when Steve stumbles, laughing, pressing Billy's back against cool brick and catching him in an eager kiss. Billy laughs, too — can't help himself — as he takes Steve's face in his hands. "Easy," he tells Steve again, and Steve scrunches his brow, tells Billy to shut up, and kisses him again. Steve tastes like stale beer and jungle juice, a strange sweet-bitter tang. His movements lack precision, the alcohol dragging his lips across Billy's jaw and down his neck. "Okay," Billy laughs, "Okay, come on. Come on," he says, pulling Steve with him as he edges along the wall. "I miss curfew again and I'm dead. We gotta go."

"No fun," Steve grumbles, but he follows along, trips after Billy, waits as Billy pokes his head around the corner. The snow is still falling, catching in their hair. Steve watches flakes fleck Billy's lashes, speckle his jacket, melt against his skin. He leans toward Billy, rests his chin on Billy's shoulder. Billy takes Steve's hand, his own rough and warm, and —

"Jesus, Harrington," Billy says. "You're fucking freezing."

Steve frowns and says, "You said I was hot."

Billy rolls his eyes and pulls Steve too him, one arm snaked around Steve's waist as he steps out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. Steve staggers, liquor leadened feet scuffing the pavement.

The streets are empty, but if anyone were to see them, they'd see nothing more than two boys stumbling home after one too many drinks.

Under the yellow glow of the streetlamps, Billy sees that Steve's skin has gone from pink to red. His eyes tear as the wind blows flurries around his head, little snow-halos circling him, lighting in his mussed hair. He lets Billy take his weight, his whole body slumped against Billy's, his muscles tense and —

"You're shivering," Billy says.

"I'm fine," Steve shrugs. He stands a little straighter but does not quite pull away from Billy, does not quiet leave the warmth of Billy's body. "I've lived through more winters than you," he says.

"You don't dress like it," Billy says, tugging at the thin fabric of Steve's crewneck sweatshirt, the only thing he ever wore even in the dead of winter, because come on, Billy, I'm used to the cold.

They walk a few more feet in silence, turn off of Main Street and duck down another alleyway. The later it gets, the colder it feels. Steve rests his head sleepily against Billy's shoulder and Billy holds him steady as they round corners and sink further into the suburbs. A shiver occasionally snakes down Steve's spine, causing him to jerk. After a few such episodes, Billy stops in his tracks.

"This isn't your house," Steve says, and he frowns as Billy disentangles himself from him, shrugging out of his jacket as Steve watches and asks, "What are you doing?"

Billy shoves his jacket against Steve's chest and says, "Here."

Steve takes it, turning the garment over in his hands. When he makes no move to wear the damn thing, Billy holds it by the collar and guides Steve's arms into the sleeves. He pops a few of the buttons into the place, enough to trap at least a little heat.

"Uh," Steve says, tugging at the hem of the jacket.

"You can thank me later," Billy says, and he begins walking once more. Steve hesitates before following after him, his arms crossed and to keep the warmth of Billy's coat, of Billy, close to him.

Steve's car is parked two blocks over from Cherry Lane, and Billy opens the door for Steve and helps Steve climb inside. "You okay to drive?" Billy asks him as Steve plugs the key into the ignition. He nods, and Billy leans in to kiss him, one hand tugging at the jacket to pull Steve closer. He hesitates for a moment when they part, then pats the jacket and tells Steve, "Keep this. I like you in it."

A hot flush rushes to Steve's cheeks, and Billy smiles and kisses him one last time before shutting the door and taking off for home.

***

Steve doesn't remember peeling the jacket off when he got home. He doesn't remember leaving it draped across the backseat of his car, stumbling inside without it, passing out still in his jeans and Nikes. Saturday night bleeds into Sunday morning, and Sunday afternoon passes in a hungover blur of bad cartoons and one too many bowls of Kraft. By Monday morning, Steve has completely forgotten about the jacket.

Robin is already at the curb when Steve pulls up to the Buckley house, and she swings open the passenger side door and leans into the backseat to deposit her trumpet and band hat when —

"Oh, my God," she says.

"What?" Steve asks.

"What is that?" asks Robin.

"What is what?" says Steve.

Robin dives into the backseat, laughs, "Oh, my God. Oh, my God!" as she tugs at something. She is one huge grin, her eyes sparking in that oh, I've got something on you sort of way as she holds up the jacket for Steve to see.

"It's a jacket," Steve says plainly.

"It's Billy's jacket," Robin corrects. "You have Billy Hargrove's jacket in your car. You have your boyfriend's jacket in your car." She squeals, laughs, holding the jacket to herself. "Oh, my God! You have a boyfriend jacket. You guys are boyfriend jacket serious."

"I have a boyfriend," Steve says. "And he has a jacket. Is that— is that what— wait, what are you saying?" He glances between Robin and the road. That stupid grin won't leave her face. "Are you taking in code or something? What does any of this mean?"

Robin sighs, folding Billy's jacket into her lap. "He was wearing this jacket the other night. And it's not like you drove him home. You two walked— like idiots, by the way; it was freezing —so you could have your romantic time making out in back alleys like the bad kids in the After School Specials. And now you have his jacket." She brandishes it again as if to prove her point. "So," she says. "How did it happen? I mean, you brush me off constantly when I ask about Hargrove. And, yes, I do wish you'd pick someone more...not mean. But you are all Pepe Le Pew heart-eyes around him and he's out here giving you his jacket like some rom-com teenage dream." She swats Steve with the jacket's sleeve and says, "Spill, Harrington. I want to know everything."

"It's not a big deal," Steve insists.

Robin says nothing, but she does clutch the jacket in her hands by way of calling bullshit.

Steve rolls his eyes and says, "It was cold. I didn't have a jacket. He gave me his." They've pulled into the parking lot now and Steve throws the car in park, meets Robin's eyes and says, "That's it."

"That's it," Robin parrots, and she shakes her head. "Oh, my God."

"Stop," Steve says. "He was being nice. He does that sometimes, you know."

"Yes, he does," Robin agrees. "For you. Because you're in love."

Steve shakes his head, turns the car off, looks out the window to spot Billy across the lot. He's leaning against his Camaro, a half-finished cigarette dangling from his lips, and he juts up his chin when his eyes land on Steve's.

Steve's heart does a somersault. Robin is still goading him, but he hardly hears her now, unable to take his eyes off of Billy.

"Give me that," Steve says, and Robin is silenced when he takes the jacket from her. He pushes open his door, tugs the jacket on as he gets out of the car. Billy watches, the slightest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he flicks away his cigarette, pushes away from his car, and walks toward Steve.

[alderaphid]

💖Valentine’s Day in the Pizzaplex💖

The normal purple lights that line the walls have been replaced with pink ones - garlands of hearts are strung up along every doorway. All the balloons are heart shaped and most merchandise has been rolled over to display valentine’s day cards and limited edition plushies. Though guests can give the animatronics cards, the only one they really care about is you. How does your robot lover show their appreciation of you on this celebrated day of affection?

Freddy: He goes all traditional - a sweet, handmade card and a box of chocolates (taken from Glamrock Gifts but hey, it’s not like he can go out of the facility) as well as a lengthy serenade. That’s right, Freddy takes you to his room and sings you a love song he’s been practicing for a while, holding your hands and staring int your eyes. He gladly accepts your smooches when he’s done.

Monty: Says he thinks that the day is overrated, but you see none of that aversion when he hovers near you all day, constantly brushing the back of your neck or shoulders. Convinces you to abandon your task to drag you deep into Gator Golf where he plays the “L-O-V-E” song on his bass, plucking away as you sit and listen. He huffs as you kiss him but still holds your waist tightly, nuzzling with a low rumble.

Roxy: Very vocal about being with you. So much so she actually dedicates her solo performance that day to you, by name - before absolutely shredding her keytar amongst the pink laser light show. When she has the big race of the day she convinces you to sit in the stands, driving faster than ever and winning by a large margin. Winks and blows you a kiss as she exits her go cart - she later drags you into a closet to pepper you with kisses, running her claws through your hair.

Chica: Makes you a heart shaped pizza all by herself! The thing is a little burnt but it’s sweet to know she tried her best. Can’t keep her hands to herself either - she’s stuck to you like glue for the whole day, smothering you in kisses and chatting you up. Tells you a few cheesy pick up lines just to see that cute blush cross your face~

Sun: He’d be buzzing with energy, giving you a big hug and a nuzzle before telling you to open your hands and close your eyes. When you do so, he’ll plop a small gift box in your hands. Inside is a card absolutely coated in hearts and sparkles with a paragraph about how amazing you are. Beside the card is a necklace made of faceted beads, nothing like the usual round plastic ones the kids were occasionally allowed to play with. It’s a simple design; red, orange, and yellow alternating beads leading to a charm at the center that depicts a sun with a crescent moon. He asks to put it on you and you comply, smiling at the warm brush of their fingers as Sun carefully clasps it around your neck. It’s beautiful.

Moon: They have something for you too, and you eagerly follow them into their room to see a huge bouquet of paper flowers - at least three dozen roses all made out of either pink or red construction paper. Tucked within the blossoms is a piece of paper - unfolded its... you. A drawing of you, capturing all the little details of your expression and clothing. You never knew Moon was so talented, and you give them a kiss before they scoop you up to cuddle.

DJMM: Traditional cards and flowers are hard to make when he’s so large, so instead he asks you to come to the arcade after hours. When you do, he delicately picks you up and fiddles with his soundboard. A song so different from the usual techno beats starts winding through the air. It contains instruments you’re used to hearing from some of your favorite genres; suddenly, it clicks. He’s produced an original song for you according to your tastes! Your chest nearly bursts from affection, and you make sure he knows how much you appreciate it by covering him in smooches.

[harryhoney-bee]

I'm feeling really soft and fuzzy today, So if I can request something I want to do that abeja 🐝💓

#Concept: Nightly routine with y/n and Harry- parents of two little babies.

Tag me if you write this baby ✨✨

Adore you alot 💕

Night Routine

Warning: your ovaries might explode... mine did 🤚🏻 I would give this man 9 children if he asked.

Word count: 1.7k

I have a kofi, so please consider buying me coffee if you can <3

I hope you enjoy it!! Let me know what you think 😚

“But I want to take a beth with him, daddy,” Cecília whined to Harry, while he undressed her, putting her new pajamas and towel on the bathroom counter.

“My little darling, he is still little, he can’t take bath with you,” Harry explained, taking Cecí on his lap and putting her inside the warm tub, handing her some of her favorite toys. “Lorenzo is just 6 months, he’s not as big as you.”

Harry made a bowl with his hands, wetting her curly hair and applying shampoo, a pout still on her face. “Please, daddy?” she said, her chubby hand grabbing his arm. Cecí had already mastered her puppy eyes technique, and she knew how much her dad had a weak spot for her.

“Alright, alright,” He finally gave in, “but he will stay outside of the tub, he doesn’t know how to sit by himself.”

“Thank you, daddy!” The girl splashed water around in excitement, which made Harry smile. That’s how he always wanted to see her: happy and healthy.

Harry went to the door, keeping an eye on the girl in the tub. “Baby? Are you done nursing? Cecí wants to see Lorenzo,” he tried to call his wife as loud as he could while being mindful of Lorenzo, who could be asleep by now. He never wanted to alarm any of him or Cecília with his loud voice.

In a matter of seconds, Y/n appeared in the hallway, a confused expression on her face while Lorenzo was calmly laying down on her arms, his little hands resting on Y/n’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? Why does she want to see him? We just had diner together,” she asked, heading in Harry’s direction.

“I’m not sure, guess she just missed him,” Harry answered, giving his wife a kiss on the forehead and bending down to talk to a very awake Lorenzo. “But who wouldn’t miss you, huh? Such a cutie, right buddy?” he was aware that using a baby voice wasn’t the best, but he couldn’t help, Lorenzo was just extremely adorable.

“Mommy! Enzo!” Cecília called, from the opposite side of the bathroom, “come here mommy, miss you too.”

Y/n sat on the bathroom floor, Lorenzo still with her. “Hey, my heart, having a good bath with daddy?” she asked at the same time Harry sat down by her side and hugged her from the side, laying his chin on her head.

“Yeah! Daddy always let me play,” Cecília took one of the yellow ducks and showed her mom, “This is Mc Duck.”

“Wow, he’s a very beautiful duck isn’t he?” She asked, giving Lorenzo to Harry while kneeling near the bathtub since Cecí still had to wash her hair, Y/n gently took the excess of shampoo from the girl’s hair, while Harry tried to keep Lorenzo entertained by singing him a silly song.

“He is, I love yellow,” the little girl admitted, “I think Lorenzo loves yellows too.”

“And why do you think that, Cecí?” Harry asked amused while pretending to eat the boy’s fingers.

“Because we’re are best friends,” She said as if the answer was obvious, “and friends like the same things.” Y/n and Harry looked at each other and laughed, for a five-year-old girl she knew a lot about relationships.

“Oh, how do you know that?” Y/n asked, finishing washing her hair, letting Cecília enjoy her time in the bath.

“Because you and daddy are best friends, you wear the same clothes sometimes, listen to the same music, and watch the same movies,” with every new topic she would count down on her fingers, it was quite a comical sight.

Harry’s chuckle filled the room, the baby on his lap giggled too. “Well, my little lady, you are right. But friends can also like different things, too,” he told her. “Me and mommy like a lot of similar things, but we also have our preferences.”

“Exactly, daddy loves bananas, but I don’t” y/n complemented, getting Cecília out of the tub, helping her into some warm clothes, “I don’t like to work out, but your dad always wakes up early to go for a run, see? We like different things but we still love each other.”

Harry got up from the floor, rocking Lorenzo softly, his heavy eyes indicating how sleepy the baby was. He took the combing cream in his hand and began combing Cecília’s curls with one hand, while his other arm held Lorenzo. Being a father of two made him very talented at doing two things at the same time. While he did that, Y/n was getting Cecí’s toothpaste ready.

“Daddy, do you love mommy even if she doesn’t go running with you?” Cecí asked, before opening her mouth so Y/n could brush her teeth. Normally they would let Cecília do it by herself, with their supervision, but it was already late and the couple desperately needed to get the children to bed, or else their routine would be messed up. Good thing Lorenzo seemed to be falling asleep already.

“Of course I do! We don’t love people just because they do the same things we do, we love people because they are kind and respectful to us, yeah?” Harry said, looking at Y/n and blowing her a kiss. This is what he loved the most about parenthood: watching the kids growing into their best version.

Parenting was made in many different ways, but the couple especially loved having these kinds of conversations. Even though Cecília was still young, she was already beginning to comprehend what love and friendships were, and Harry and Y/n had the privilege to teach her that.

Harry finished her hair, putting the brush and the products in their place under the sink while Y/n put on some socks on Cecí’s feet, the little girl was yawning, seeming tired. Lorenzo started to fussy on Harry’s arms.

“Guess it’s time to sleep, huh?” Harry said, caressing Cecílias head, “Tired, my baby? Want daddy to read a bedtime story to you? Or do you want mommy?” At the same time he mentioned Y/n, Lorenzo started to soft cry. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, looking down at the upset’s baby face.”

Y/n took his from Harry’s arms, cuddling him closer to her chest, “What do you want, Enzo? Mommy just fed you” she looked at her husband, “I’ll nurse him again on the bed, he’s probably just a bit agitated, will you put her to sleep?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The woman kissed Cecília on the forehead, “have a good night, ok, baby? Mommy will take you to the playground tomorrow, alright?”

“Ok mommy, I love you and little bro too,” she said, giving a hug to her mom before she disappeared through the door with the crying baby.

Harry took Cecília by her small hand, leading them to her room, just by the side of the main suite, where the couple slept. He guided the little girl to her bed, giving her all of her favorite stuffed animals, and covered Cecília in her Lilac duvet.

“What story do you want today?

“The pirate one, please,” she asked, laying her head on the pillow as Harry went to her bookshelf, picking the one with the title Pirate’s cove. He sat by the end of the bed and began telling the story.

“I have a story for you, a story of untold riches and a young lad who found them. And who am I, you ask? Well, I am the spirit of the sand-dollar, a pirate and a buccaneer, Captain of the seahorse, the finest ship to ever sail the seven seas…”

Harry would occasionally stop to answer any questions Cecília had, but after 15 minutes he was done with the book and the girl was fast asleep, hugging tight to her little lamb. He made sure she was tucked in and turned off the lights (besides the one on the side of Cecília’s bed, she was scared to sleep in a pitch-black room), he closed the door and headed to his bedroom.

To Harry’s surprise, Lorenzo was sleeping in his bassinet by the side of the mattress. He usually would sleep in his nursery, but today just seemed like an off day to the little boy. Harry got closer to him, stroking the chubby cheeks, “Oh my little bug, did mommy let you sleep here with us? You’re not feeling fine?”

“I think he’s teething,” Y/n said in a raspy voice, taking her head from the pillow, “he’s even a bit warmer than usual, I think his gums are itching.”

“My poor baby,” Harry mumbled, turning his head to Y/n, “I hate seeing him upset, maybe we could make some homemade Popsicle, it helped when Cecília was teething.”

“Yeah, we can try that, we can make them tomorrow.” she patted the mattress, “now please come to bed, he did a number on me, I’m so tired.”

“Alright baby,” Harry took off his shirt, standing only in sweatpants, he went to the bed, laying by Y/n side, one arm hooked on her waist as she cuddled to him, placing her head on his shoulder.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” Y/n said against his neck.

“Oh baby, I am the lu--”

“--I mean, how many husbands would still love their wives even if they wouldn’t go jogging at 6 in the morning?” she said teasingly, her giggles reaching his ear.

He rolled his eyes playfully, “you are making a lot of jokes for someone who is tired,” he kissed her temple. “I’m gonna wake you up at 5 am tomorrow, so we can be fitness together.”

“Don’t you dare! You do that and your plan of being a father to three it’s over.”

“Damn sweetheart, that’s not very nice, huh?”

“You’re the one who started,” she said, before closing her eyes, snuggling to Harry’s body. The man placed a hand on her belly, falling asleep minutes later.

Tag list: @sunandherflores @elenagilbert01 @bellelittleoff, @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

If you don't want to be in the tag list just let me know, please!! <3

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

The Day the Ocean Erupted

Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Angst, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Allusions to death, drowning, pain, storms, thunder, rain

~ * ~

You remember the day the ocean erupted.

You’d been in your office, at 2 PM exactly, pen in hand and ink spotting your fingers, the culprits a stack of papers in the upper corner. The sun had filtered through your window and casted shining streamers on your desk as you wrote, typical of Liyue’s golden summers. You tapped your pen against your chin- how to phrase this next sentence? Should you focus on one or two types of silk? You hummed contemplatively, then scribbled a few more words. Sturdiness- that was important to mention in a report, especially one about something elegant like silk. The room filled with a comforting silence as you wrote word after word on the paper in the delicate warmth of the sun.

The first drop came and went without attention. But it was soon followed by another. And another. And another, until the sky was shedding all its tears into the streets and ocean of the city. Your pen had fallen from your grasp with a resounding clatter as you stood to peer outside the window, your eyes narrowed. Rain? In Liyue? Now? It was ridiculous.

Then something burst out of the ocean and you fell backwards in shock, pushing yourself away from the window despite being on one of the upper levels of the harbor. You rushed downstairs and pushed your door open, catching glimpses of an enormous serpentine creature rising from the waters as people rushed up and down the streets in a panic. The rain poured down in buckets, drenching everything and everyone, and all around there’s a frenzy of screaming, shouting, yelling, the same phrase reworded a thousand times, The Fatui did this, it’s the Fatui’s fault, the Fatui are to blame, and you could only think of one thing- your associate, your acquaintance, your companion.

Your friend.

Childe. Where was he? Vanished to the Golden House, they told you, but not as Childe, as Tartaglia, the Harbinger. For business, he said.

But soon you were swept up with the waves of screaming, and the thought had been lost.

That was weeks ago, when the Traveler had harnessed the power of the Adepti and defeated the old god Osial, with a final blow from Lady Ningguang’s Jade Chamber to seal him in the sea. The entire nation held its breath as Fatui activity wavered, dropped, then fizzled out completely. Life returned to normal, the seasons rolling by like a sigh of relief as reassuring whispers spread the news that the Fatui were finally, finally stopping their irritating interferences with the harbor.

You finish your final words and set your pen down, a thoughtful frown prominent on your face. You’ve never really been affected by the Fatui. For the most part they simply existed, a rumored plague on the Liyue Qixing with their endless meddling, but to you they were simple guards standing near doors and on the docks. On occasion when you had to wait there you would make conversation, to which most of them would respond to either in earnest or slightly tense surprise. For all their supposed horrid tendencies and practices and nosiness, you had found that many of the Fatui were, quite simply, people; people from a different nation and far away from home. People who had their own interests and likes and dislikes. People who had their own reasons and dreams and realities.

People who had all vanished when the last ripple in the ocean had stilled. And among them, your friend Childe, the Eleventh Harbinger Tartaglia. He was the only Fatui you would really consider a friend, the others being mere acquaintances. He was always teasingly kind to you, offering to get you a meal or asking to spend some offtime together. You, ever-suspicious, had often refused, but he was persistent and determined to chip down your walls one by one. And when they shook and crumbled your friendship had blossomed, despite the odd melancholy in his eyes whenever he looked at you, a question you never knew the answers to.

All this he was. But he was gone now, you suppose, following the tall, elegant woman you had seen exiting the Northland Bank to the mysterious depths of Inazuma. He looked so exhausted, outwardly appearing as tired as you sometimes felt inside, and your brow pinches.

You sigh and set your pen to the side before rising from your chair, cursing yourself for contemplating old memories. You don’t expect Childe to return anytime soon, if ever, so perhaps some thoughts are best left packaged in their pretty boxes scattered around the attic of your mind. The door swings open as you slip on your coat- it’s chilly outside, and you walk to the teashop for a new blend and distraction from the conflicting turmoil in your head.

The rain begins just as you hurry back home, having forgotten your umbrella in a moment of carelessness. Liyue’s winters, while cold and biting, never froze the storms that encroached almost every other day, instead letting icy droplets of slush fall on people’s backs and clothes. The clouds shield the few stars in the sky from view, blocking out the moon and turning the raindrops an inky black. You shove your door open and immediately shut and lock it again with a sigh of relief, shaking out your clothes and rubbing your chilled hands together. Your breathing is the only sound in the house, and your bones soon settle with a deep chill as the pressing quiet seems more and more foreboding. You cock your head to the side and hear an ever-so-faint rustling sound, and you pick up your weapon before making your way down the hall.

When you reach the living room you blink in surprise. Unlike what you expected, nothing is broken, not a dish is out of place, no drawers are flung open and riffled through. Nothing is wrong, nothing is out of order, your limited vision tells you, but a cold breeze sends goosebumps down your arms and you make your way over to the ajar window, very nearly bumping into furniture several times. You fumble with the latch and pull the window shut, dragging the curtain closed as if to cover the rain with elegant patterns and cloth, and for a few moments, you listen to the steady pour outside as it creates a chiming melody on the roof and glass.

Something breathes next to you. You whirl away in shock, clutching your weapon tightly. Something is here with you, watching you across the room, observing your every move as you hurry to light a match for some semblance of sight, the lamps in your house completely useless right now. The match strikes and connects, a yellow flame bursting to life, flickering like a firefly. You hold it up and come face-to-face with a single eye. Enormous and pearly, it gleams softly in the darkness, although whether it is blue or purple you cannot say. Sharp, plated red armor surrounds it, mask-like and curling into twin horns. The creature’s skin is also armored and bony, shades of purple and black with occasional splashes of red or silver, covered by a pair of translucent, sparkling wings like the deepest sea. It towers over you, claws and teeth razor sharp even in the persisting gloom, and you gasp and stumble away in terror. The starry wings and deep, rich colors, and the feeling it emanates, of being crushed and drowned by shining waves…

An Abyssal creature, some sort of monstrous beast from the depths of your world. It must be.

You back away from it, your chest tight with fear and the thought of death, of dying at the hands of this monster, holding your weapon so tightly you fear it might crack in your grip.

You’ve never been a fighter, only practical enough to keep a weapon you could use nearby. Between you and the creature, the creature would win with a simple swipe of its claws, and you would bleed out on the floor until you didn’t exist anymore, just another body lost to the infinite ocean.

But there is no attack, no clashing, no burning, searing pain, only a soft, sad whimper. You open your eyes and see the creature reaching out to you, crawling across the floor like standing causes it agony, as it lets out a broken and desperate wail. You take a step back again, then a step forward, your fear seeping out of you. Holding the match higher, you lean forward and squint, dots of color bleeding into the environment.

Ginger. Wondrously fluffy ginger hair, although it's wet with rainwater, and a single streak of white like snow.

You know who, and you say who before you even think who, uttering out it’s, his, name in a hushed whisper.

Childe.

Your weapon forgotten, you stand shellshocked in a corner of the room, so still and frozen that Childe himself attempts to rise to his feet, only to fall back to the ground with a pained cry, a sound that snaps your thoughts like shattering ice as you rush to support him. He scratches his claws on the ground, hiccupping, sobbing, whining tearfully at a pain you can’t see. You place a hand on the side of his face and he leans into it, almost slumping to the ground as he brings his hand up to cover your own. He stares at you, pained and suffering, with the same melancholy as before, a melancholy you now understand means I cannot love you, even though I so wish to, it is forbidden by fate and stars, and your heart breaks. 

You pick up a distant rumble of thunder, and Childe yelps in fear, wrapping his claws around you and pressing his face into your side, trembling. Your fingers stroke through his hair, running down the sides of his face and horns, and his sobs die to labored breathing as exhaustion finally overtakes him and lets his body relax.

You remember the day the ocean poured down from the sky. It was now, in a dark room with a pinprick flame of light, holding the consequences of the Abyss.

[jeongvision]

gxxd boy

synopsis. what do you do when an opportunity presents itself in front of you and it’s so much better than what you have now? you go after it, of course. and for jaehyun, you don’t have to tell him twice.

pairing. fwb! jeong jaehyun ✗ fem! reader

genre. smut, angst?, college au, friends with benefits au, non idol au

word count. 1.6k this was supposed to be a timestamp

warnings. heavy cursing, sexual themes (fellatio, degradation, dirty talking, deepthroating, cum play, absolute filth, exhibition kink?), cheating, some religious analogies

song. break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored by ariana grande

author’s note. this story contains a very problematic scenario (cheating). i do not condone any behaviors presented in this story nor do i promote it. this story does not in any shape or form reflect reality.

It’s not the first time you called Jaehyun over because of your needs. You were just casually carrying on with your day, doing what you do best, when you suddenly got in the mood for some blow. Luckily for you, he didn’t hesitate to help you attend to those needs of yours, as long as he gets something in return. That’s what friends with benefits are for, right? You come over, get a good fuck, and just leave when you’re done. No strings attached - that’s how you like it.

And it’s certainly not the first time he had reminded you that he has a girlfriend waiting at home for him.

Did you care? No, that’s his problem.

Did he care? No, he never liked her anyways.

But one thing’s for sure: he loves it every time you’re down on your knees with your mouth wrapped around his cock, swallowing up all the cum he has to offer.

“Suck.”

And you oblige to his command as your mouth encloses down on his thick cock, you mouth feeling extremely full at the size of it. You brought one of your hands to wrap the remaining of the base where your mouth couldn’t reach. Instantaneously, you hear him let out a throaty groan. God, you love the sound of his voice. You could already feel your arousal dripping onto your panties at the sound of him.

You’re on your knees, a hand gripping onto his thigh for stability. You’re cladded in only your oversized yellow sweater and black panties, your essence dangerously threatening to leak past the thin fabric covering your nether region.

His denim jeans are pulled down to the floor around his ankles. He threw off his white tee after a heated makeout session with you earlier, his body presented in full glory out to you.

What a pleasing sight it is to take in. Must be nice to be God’s favorite.

You bob you head onto his member, cheeks hollowed out. Your tongue caresses the underside of cock when you go down on him and swirls around his head as you go back up. Both of his hands are threaded through your hair in a makeshift ponytail to prevent it falling on your face, occasionally pulling your head down to bury himself more in you.

He throws his head back at the overwhelming sensation you’re giving him, teeth gritted.

“Fuck, baby girl, I fucking love your mouth.”

You love it when he calls you baby girl. He always referred to his girlfriend as ‘her’ or just by her name. He was never fond of her, only agreeing to go out with her as per his parent’s request. She was a daughter of his parent’s friends from college. They insisted that he dates her and see where it goes. They’re two months in the ‘relationship’ and he wants nothing more than to break up with her, but with his parent’s breathing down on his neck, he just has to hold it off a little longer.

But when it comes to you, he just couldn’t wait. You were his salvation, his deliverance.

Only with you that he calls you all the cliché nicknames you could think of: baby girl, angel, sweetheart, doll. But if you were to be honest, your favorite is when he calls you his cumslut, his little whore. Just one word from him and you’re already on all fours for him - that’s how affected you are by him, and he is just the same.

You look up to him from your position and could see his neck decorated with all the purple and blue bruises you gave him earlier. The subtle lighting in your living room makes his Adam’s apple more defined than ever, deliciously protruding through his skin.

Fuck, you’ve never seen such a beautiful neck before. You just can’t wait to mark him up all over again.

You moan out with him still in your mouth, sending shivers throughout the latter’s body. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, pupils dilated.

“God, you’re so good to me, baby.”

And just as you were about to reward him with your throat, his phone rings.

You push yourself off him with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his tip. “Ignore it,” you said. It’s probably his girlfriend, calling him to ask about his day.

The first phone call passes by, so you’re quick to pick back up where you left off only to be interrupted once again from his ringtone, prompting Jaehyun to curse loudly. You let go of him as he reaches behind him to pick up his phone that laid on your couch.

You raise an eyebrow, ignoring the saliva that spilled out of your lips, “Is it her?”

He nods to you.

You let out a scoff. Just as you thought, it was her calling again. Of fucking course.

With reluctance, he slides the answer button on his screen before bringing it up to his ear. He clears his throat before answering.

“Hello?”

You could faintly hear her voice on the other line.

“Hey, babe! What are you doing? Are you busy right now?”

While he is on the phone with his girlfriend, an idea pops in mind. You smirk at the thought of it.

Let’s play a little game, shall we?

You start stroking his cock, your mouth fondling his balls with kitten licks in between. You could see him gritting his teeth, desperately trying to keep his voice leveled.

“K-Kind of. I’m with Mark right no- oh fuck,” His eyes roll back as you take his shaft back in your mouth and shove him all the way down in your throat, holding him there for a few seconds. He pulls the phone away from him while his other hand goes back on your head, lowly grunting at the tightness of your throat around his cock. You gag around him, tears forming in your eyes as you claw his thigh due to lack of oxygen. He lets go and you pull out, a string of saliva once again forming a transluscent bridge between your bottom lip and his dick.

Oh you were cruel to him, dangerously playing a risky game of getting Jaehyun caught red-handed for fucking someone other than his girlfriend.

He’s heavily breathing to regain his composure, completely delirious from your actions now.

“Babe, are you okay? Are you sick or something?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, feigning innocence from your ministrations earlier.

And that one look from you is enough to set him off.

He hisses through his teeth before bringing the phone back to his ear, “I’ll call you back later.”

And with that, he hangs up before his girlfriend could even utter another word, throwing his phone back behind him on the couch.

He lets out a carnal growl and grabs the back of your head, his veiny cock close to your nose, “Fucking dirty whore.”

You sinfully giggle at his reaction, “What’s the matter, baby?”

His eyes are infernal than ever, glaring down into your own orbs, “I was on the phone with my girlfriend and you wouldn’t stop sucking my cock off. Is that what you want, hm? Let the whole world know how much of a dirty cumslut you are?”

You only shrug your shoulders, answering him only by taking him back in your mouth. He was close to cumming earlier, feeling how you felt his member twitch in your throat.

He throws his head back again; his whole body is seventh heaven.

“God, you just love having my cock in your mouth, huh?”

You moan in response, his member still around your tongue sending shockwaves throughout his body. “Such a good little whore. That’s right, baby. Keep sucking me like a dirty cumslut you are.”

Both of his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you deeper on him. He’s close, you know it. You moan once again.

“Shit- I’m gonna cum.”

You pull him off and wrap your hands around him, stroking him at a frenzied pace.

“Cum all over my mouth, baby.”

And after a few more strokes, he bucks his hips forward as his hot white cum shoots out of his cock onto your tongue splayed out. Strings of it land on your tongue, some reaching to your chin and a few on your jaw.

His chest is heaving. He takes a moment to regain himself after his high while you swallow the semen in your mouth.

Delectable he is, for a body that could rival Adonis.

Just as you were about to wipe off the remaining cum off your face, he grabs onto your wrist and pulls you up on your feet.

“Wha-” but you’re cut short after Jaehyun licks his cum off of your neck, his hot and wet muscle licking against your heated skin, making your legs wobble before him.

Holy god, you could just orgasm right then and there.

He unlatches himself off of you and with a tongue full of his cum, he pulls you in for a kiss, giving you the dessert you asked for.

You moan into his mouth. As if your arousal wasn’t already dripping, you’re now soaked and pooling at this point.

You push yourself off his lips, admiring the fucked-out expression he wears. His cheeks and ears are tinted red, lips with a little swell, eyes fully blown out.

You grin at him. 

“Do you want to eat what my mom made?”

He raises an eyebrow at your question. Why are you offering him something to eat now?

“Your mom stopped by earlier?” he asks. You shrug your shoulders, earning a scoff from him before mirroring your expression, “What did your mom make?”

There’s a dangerous glint in your eyes, and that’s when it finally hit him on what you exactly meant.

“Me.”

[mieohmy]

𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 | 𝗅𝖾𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗇𝗈, 𝗇𝖺 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇

PAIRING: jeno x fem reader, jaemin x fem reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, humor, agent!jeno, agent!jaemin, agent!reader, spy! au, love triangle, slow burn, pining

WC: 13.1k

NOTES: depictions of violence, weapons, murder, death, blood, injuries, hospitals, mentions of alcohol consumption

SUMMARY: you save jeno’s life and suddenly you’re more to him than he’s ever thought possible. or in more simple terms, you somehow find yourself in the midst of a war called feelings.

notice!- there will be a part two/bonus of this fic soon so keep a lookout :)

“Yes sir.” The three of you speak in unison. 

You, jeno, and jaemin are excused from your boss’s office, minds already revving up for your newly assigned mission. 

“So.....” jaemin starts. 

“So?” You glance at him, jeno to your left doing the same. 

“What do you guys want to eat after we’re done?”

Jeno snorts. 

“Already thinking about dinner before the mission’s even started?” You tease jaemin as you walk side by side down the stairs.

Just seeing you three together catches everyone else’s attention. And when you and the boys go to your respective lockers, grabbing your gear and getting ready, they begin to whisper too, already knowing what it means.  

The notorious three going all out again. 

It didn’t phase any of you at this point. Simply because you guys were that group. The trio with the reputation of being “unstoppable” as the rookies called it. Meaning? Your assigned missions rarely failing, the deeds done cleanly and always on time- the boss never had to worry and fret over your team. But you three were humble enough to simply call it ‘practiced skill and talent’ -with a spoonful of teamwork, of course. 

Actually, that was an understatement. Teamwork was important, if not the most important thing while performing missions together. Knowing your partners’ style, skills, actions, were key in any task- basically being able to understand and read each other’s minds without a single word, even in the middle of a battle. Especially in the middle of a battle.

“Are you ready?” Jeno asks, and you nod, looking over to jaemin attempting to put on his earpiece. You stifle a laugh, shuffling over to him and reaching to adjust it.   “What would all the newbies think if the mighty jaemin couldn’t even put on his earpiece correctly?” You mutter, fingers soft and nimble while focusing intently. 

He grins. “I’d say you always do it for me because you’re the boss.” 

You smile. “Dang right I am.” 

Turning back to jeno, you notice him waiting boredly for you two. “We’re good Jen! Or do you need me to fix yours too?”

He shakes his head, a smile forming. “Nah, I can take care of myself pretty well.” 

“Are you sure? What about that one coffee-“

Jeno presses a finger to your lips, effectively muffling your next words. 

“Let’s not mention that anymore.” 

A few beats of silence pass. 

Then Jaemin abruptly claps his hands. “Ah! The one girl-“ 

And jeno basically flies through the air over to him, covering his face and whispering worthless threats. The three of you burst into laughter, the atmosphere quite light and easy compared to what you were about to embark on. 

You head to the exit and towards the waiting car. 

Once everyone gets inside, there’s a noticeable shift in the energy -no more fun banter and joking. It was time to focus. 

The assigned driver types in the address to where you three are supposed to infiltrate a random gang’s base and take some trivial files for your own group’s use. The difficulty wasn’t too bad, especially for you three. Definitely not the worst you’ve ever been through as a team-  you cringe thinking back to when you, jeno, and jaemin started your first “big” mission. Needless to say, you all came back a little worse for wear. The mission still was considered a success- just saying.  

The ride is pretty quiet, an occasional remark here and there. There wasn’t an important need to plan and discuss beforehand- you quickly learned that the three of you worked best just going along with the flow. 

The pitch-black night sky and yellow-tinted streetlights greet you as you exit the car, gratefully accepting jeno’s extended hand when you step down. 

Jeno looks around, examining the supposed hideout. The sight of an empty parking garage greets him- dim but still lit up somewhat brightly. It may not seem all too scary, but he knows better. It’s just a facade for the dark and twisted acts going on underneath. 

“What is this place? Some 2013 music video shoot for a boy group?” Jaemin jokes. 

You crack a smile whilst searching around for the entrance. Speaking from experience, you already guessed it would be in an ambiguous location with some stupid twist to get in. 

After a couple of seconds, the three of you glance at each other, a look going around that no one else would understand. 

“Elevator to your right?” 

Jaemin nonchalantly nods, eves never flicking away. “Yep.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Jen, Jaem, I think you guys can stand guard while I quickly get the files.”

The two boys both immediately begin to object, voices rising. Your eyes widen, taking a quick glance around before shushing them. “You never know who’s lurking!”

Jeno rolls his eyes. “I don’t care. We’re not letting you go in alone.” 

You sigh, checking the time. “Okay, fine. Then jaem can come with me. I think you’re the quietest and stealthiest out of all three of us.” 

Jaemin nods, and you turn to jeno. “Comm us if you see anything, okay?”

Jeno gives a small thumbs up. 

“Come on,” you instinctively grab jaemin’s hand. “Let’s be fast so we don’t leave jeno waiting out here for too long.”

Jeno watches as the two of you disappear behind the closing doors. 

ꔫ

It’s boring. 

The most action Jeno's gotten was a bird flying in and pecking at some random stuff on the ground before leaving. 

Jeno begins to wish he went with you guys, but his role is still important. Except for the times when there was no one around and no need to keep a lookout. Jeno stifles a yawn, the somehow peaceful air getting to his head, but it’s cut short when he hears oncoming voices. And they’re definitely not yours or jaemin’s. 

He curses internally, ducking and moving out of view from whoever was there. He squints, and there’s no denying the gang symbol painted on their backs. 

Jeno counts- two, three... 

Okay, that’s not bad. He could definitely take them on. Then jeno remembers he only brought a small knife, not expecting any surprise encounters, and his confidence lowers a bit.

He presses the button on his earpiece, speaking lowly as to not alert the dark figures. “Guys. Unexpected arrival. About three or so.”

A couple of seconds later, your voice filters through. “Shoot. It’s okay, we’ve got the file and are almost out. Are they headed towards the entrance?”

He peeks around the corner and bites his lip after looking. “Yes.”

Jeno hears a sigh from the other side. 

“About three more minutes. We got caught up in some security codes. Do you think you can take them on or do you want to wait for us?”

“No,” he immediately responds. “We can’t risk losing the file.” 

“Okay.” There’s a pause, and jeno waits. 

“Just...” you speak up, “be careful.” 

Jeno gulps. “I will.”

It’s not anything jeno hasn’t done before, but it’s still a risky move nonetheless. 

He takes a look again, and they’re typing in a code to the door where you and jaemin entered not so long ago. 

It’s now or never. 

“Hey!” 

Jeno’s voice comes out light and airy, a casual and relaxed tone to it as he strolls out. 

The masked figures tense, attention immediately on jeno. 

Rude, jeno thinks. 

He doesn’t even get another word out before the guys are all over him. He takes one out with ease, and barely avoids another one armed with a knife. 

Jeno moves with practiced ease, swiftly dodging attacks and hitting back with double the strength. 

It’s only after the second guy is down with a blow to the face that jeno whips out his own knife, going after the last guy. 

Jeno slices and the figure slumps to the ground. He huffs, examining the fallen bodies around him as he hides his knife away. Two minutes tops, he thinks. 

Then the sound of the door opening alerts him, and he turns to see you and jaemin looking tense and alert, relaxing when you catch sight of jeno and the bodies lying around him. 

That means one thing. Obviously. 

You send a thumbs up with an easy smile, one jeno returns back, believing the mission was done and sealed. He starts messing with his annoying earpiece- huh, maybe you were right, and he didn’t put it in correctly... 

Jeno misses the horror that immediately replaces your satisfied look when you take a better glance at him, or more accurately, what’s behind him. 

“Lee Jeno!” You suddenly scream, shrill voice echoing through the supposedly empty lot.

Jeno whips around toward you. His eyes immediately make eye contact with yours, and there’s this look of pure terror and desperation.  

Chills run down his spine and fear prickles at his neck. What could get you to react like that? 

Jeno’s never seen you this scared. Not in a very, very long time. He’s too dumbfounded at your abrupt outburst to pay any attention to his surroundings. 

You’re sprinting towards him as fast as you can, lips mouthing words that either he can’t hear or you’re not sounding out. 

It all happens so fast- too fast in a blur that he can’t comprehend anything- 

you crash into jeno, arms thrown around him as if you were giving him a hug, but then you suddenly spin him around in the opposite direction, and you push him away- just a slight nudge so he only stumbles back a bit. 

He hears it before he can fully see it. 

The sickening sound of a blade meeting flesh- jeno knows it all too well- and he does catch the figure quickly sliding his knife out from you in shock.

Two seconds -it’s basically second nature for jeno to unsheathe his knife and throw it straight at the guy in two seconds.

Perfectly through his head. 

His body feels numb, he doesn’t even give a second glance to the perpetrator before his eyes land on you again. 

Red is blooming from your side through your shirt, and all you do is stand there, one hand slowly coming up to press the area, face cringing in pain as you look back up at jeno.  

He can’t move- the only sound he hears is the heaving of his chest, gasping for air. But his lips work on their own accord, words coming out slowly and breathlessly. 

“y/n....why?”

When you speak, your voice flows out, strangely soft and melodic, and your eyes lock onto him with a hidden and intense emotion. 

“Because you’re my friend.” 

You add a small “-idiot,” with a cough. 

And then it’s as if someone presses play again. 

You immediately slump to the ground, and jeno hears jaemin yell, running to you and scooping you up in his arms. 

But jeno doesn’t budge an inch, he can only stare at the way your eyes fall shut, limp body unmoving in jaemin’s lap. 

Jaemin’s shaking, he can tell, hands trying to press your wound and stop the pouring blood, but he can’t tell if jaemin’s screaming at him to get help or if it’s the sound and smell of blood infiltrating him, rushing through his ears. 

Then something snaps, and jeno clumsily fiddles with his earpiece, somehow spitting out the words to get help. 

It’s like everything revolves around jeno as he just watches. 

and exists.  

Backup rushes in and gets you to safety as jeno stands there in shock. He has no clue or recollection as to how he even got back to headquarters. Or what’s going to happen to you. 

The only thing jeno can do is replay the moment you jumped in front of him and sacrificed yourself.  

And the way you looked at him so tenderly, speaking so soothingly, 

-the way there was not a single ounce of regret in your deep eyes after willingly taking that knife for jeno. 

ꔫ

You’re going to be fine, rest assured. After being rushed to the infirmary, they got a solid report on you a couple of hours later. You were currently sleeping, even after losing a solid amount of blood, the doctors were able to get you in a stable condition. The only problem was that you would be put on bed rest for two weeks- just to be safe.

Jaemin was the one who filled him in on all the details, even though jeno can see jaemin’s just as affected as he is. 

It was the first time your team ever had to call backup. 

It was the first time they ever saw you so lifeless and small- when after missions you were always so lively and cheerful and just there. 

And this was the first time you weren’t. 

Jeno feels so weak. 

He can barely even function. The others force him to go home and recharge, get a good night’s sleep to process everything. 

Jeno feels so weak when jaemin has to be the one to stay back and report everything while he returns to the safety of his apartment. 

Jeno feels so weak knowing it was his fault. 

He keeps replaying that moment. The moment the man snuck up behind him, your terrified scream of his name, the glint of that red-stained knife, the last look you gave him. 

He swore all the guys were down- how did one get back up? 

It was his fault. Jeno’s carelessness- in all five years of this job and three working with you and jaemin as a team- he’s never done this before. 

He’s never been the reason behind your pain before. 

ꔫ

He received daily updates on you from jaemin. 

You woke up. 

You were recovering well.

You said you missed jeno and asked why he wasn’t there. 

Okay, so maybe it’s been three days, and jeno still hasn’t worked up the courage to visit you.  

It’s not that he didn’t want to see you- oh no, if anything, he definitely wanted to be there. Jeno wanted to see your bright face so badly and feel comforted and relieved that you were okay. But every time he takes a glance in the direction of the infirmary where you were currently staying, he feels all the emotions rush to his head at once.

Anger, pain, sadness, guilt. Mainly guilt. 

And the fact that he can’t help but see your stricken face and last moments whenever he takes a single step in your direction.

But jeno misses you. He didn’t realize it before, but he really misses you. Jaemin doesn’t even pressure him to go visit you at least once or ask why the reasoning behind why he hasn’t gone. 

So jeno slowly builds up the confidence to finally visit you. He shows up three days, 72 hours, 4320 minutes later at the room you were currently stationed in, carrying a stuffed plushie of your favorite cartoon character in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. 

He grunts, adjusting his stuff so he can knock on the door lightly to alert you of his presence. Jeno hears your voice- a soft “come in!” and he gulps. 

Inhaling and exhaling, he gently pushes the door open. You’re sitting up in the hospital bed patiently, eyes open wide with curiosity as to who could be visiting you now. 

And for some reason, the first thought that comes to his head is that you still looked so pretty. 

Even with your messy bed hair and dark circles under your eyes- not the forget the fact that you literally got stabbed a few days ago- jeno can’t take his gaze off you. 

If anything, your eyes get even wider once you catch sight of him. 

“Jeno?”

He shows a tentative smile. “Y/n?”

Your mouth opens, but then you stop and sit back onto the raised bed with a small humph!, wincing when you fall back a little too hard. 

Jeno immediately rushes to your side, examining you and asking if you’re okay.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Still, you refuse to look him in the eye, arms crossed and chin tilted high. 

And for good reason. 

He sighs, placing the goods he brought on the desk to your side and sitting down in a nearby chair. He repeats your name. But you don’t budge. 

“Please look at me,” jeno pleads. Your head turns to him for a split second before looking away again. 

“Alright, fine. I’m really sorry.” 

You don’t say anything, but he catches your stoic expression faltering. 

“And second, thank you. Thank you for saving my life, y/n.”

Your hands drop to your side, and jeno frowns when he sees your picked fingers- he picked up on the habit you did when you were stressed. 

Finally, you clear your throat and speak. “You’re welcome. But I don’t accept your apology. It’s been days, and you don’t even visit me once? I was thinking you hated me for-“

He immediately cuts you off. “I would never hate you.”

A puff of air escapes your lips. “Okay, but it still doesn’t explain your behavior.” 

“I know, I know,” jeno says, staring down at his lap. “I was just so shocked from it all.” 

He bites his lip, voice hoarse. 

“But mostly, I felt so guilty. Like I was the bad guy.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

“Because I was the reason you got hurt. It was my stupid actions and not paying attention that caused you to get hurt.” 

Jeno ducks his head, hands tightly clasped together and eyes squeezed shut. “I’m so sorry, y/n. You could’ve died, and it would’ve been all because of me.“

“Don’t apologize anymore,” you respond sharply. 

“It was my decision to take the knife for you, and I would do that over and over again, no questions asked.” Your voice softens, and your hand comes to rest on his, making his eyes snap open and breath hitch.

“Besides, I knew I would be perfectly fine. A knife never stopped me, you know that.”

Jeno glances up and he’s met with your normal happy-go-lucky face and sparkling eyes. 

He can’t help but smile back, paying no mind to the quickening pace of his heart. 

ꔫ

After that day, jeno tries his best to come in daily to see you. Since your team’s missions were put on hold until you fully recovered, he practically had nothing to do anyway. 

Sometimes he would bring snacks or games to entertain you since you complained about how boring it was to stay inside all day. You did protest in the beginning, telling him not to waste his time with you when he could be doing much more important work- but not once did jeno ever think being with you was a waste of time. 

And sometimes jaemin would be hanging out with you already, in the middle of telling you a joke that you can’t help but already start giggling at when jeno knocks on the door before coming in with his goodies of the day. 

He would pause for a second after seeing you two, a strange uncomfortable feeling rising in his chest, and then you would notice jeno‘s presence and force him to join you and jaemin, the fleeting feeling then forgotten until the next time. 

But the moments when jeno comes in and it’s just you there by yourself, he can’t ignore the rush of adrenaline he gets. 

It doesn’t fail to occur every time he spots your lovely face, already greeting him with a sparkle in your eyes. 

Since when did he start feeling this certain way? Jeno’s worked with you for years, performed countless missions by your side, and somehow, he only realizes it now. After that one fated day, it’s like everything’s changed.  And even if it may not seem like it for you, it certainly has for him. 

Jeno wonders why he’s never noticed it before. He wonders when the warmth just from being in your presence truly started.  

ꔫ

And from then on, you secure a certain and stable spot in jeno’s heart. 

At first, he swore it was just because of how selfless you were, bravely running in front of him and saving his life, jeno thought he was just eternally grateful and held a copious amount of admiration for you. But as time goes on and you’re back on your feet, raring to start up tasks again, he can’t deny that it’s not just admiration. 

He knows that his heart beats faster and his palms get sweaty whenever you spot him and your face lights up. It’s obvious, right? 

Jeno likes you. But the real question was- did you like him back? 

It’s about a week since you were released from the infirmary, slowly training and building back up to get in top fit shape and start on missions again like you so desperately wanted to do. 

You send jeno a small smile when he joins you at a table, carrying a stack of old papers to file through. It never fails to make jeno blush- and if you notice, you don’t say anything. 

There’s a relaxing silence, you munching on a snack as jeno focuses on organizing, the office is weirdly quiet today.

But the silence doesn’t last for long, you jump in your seat when jeno lets out a small hiss of pain, and you glance over to see him holding his finger, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hm? What did you do?”

He looks up at you sheepishly, “paper cut.”

You click your tongue while shaking your head, getting up to walk to your desk a couple of strides away and returning with a band-aid in hand. 

Jeno grins when he sees the cute teddy bear pattern on it, he expects no less from you. “Why do you always have bandaids around?” He questions, amused. 

“Because I know you guys, and you guys always do dumb stuff like this.”

His mouth drops open, about to object, but abruptly closes it when you gently take his hand, unwrapping the bandaid deftly and wrapping it around the small inflicted wound. 

He gulps, watching you work with such concentration on a minor thing like a small paper cut. Your nimble fingers make him feel ticklish, and he resists the urge to squirm from a simple act like this. 

Once you finish, you sit back with a satisfied look. 

He mutters thanks, and you shake your head with a pout. “Jeno, you need to take care of yourself better.” 

And then a hand lands on your head, and you jump, quickly looking around. 

Jaemin laughs, easily slipping into the seat next to you. “What’s up?”

You roll your eyes. “Jeno was being careless and- oh! that reminds me, you too jaemin!”

His pleased expression suddenly turns bewildered. “What?”

“You’re never getting enough sleep! -and I can tell cause you were drinking your nasty coffee earlier and the bags under your eyes are-“

You ramble on, continuing to nag at jaemin as he only watches you with an endeared smile.

ꔫ

Today is a bad day. Simply one of those days where you just wake up with that feeling and know that today’s just not it. 

But that happens to everyone. It’s common and nothing you haven’t experienced before. 

You hope going to work and seeing your friends will cheer you up a little. Spoiler- it doesn’t. Jeno and jaemin are assigned to an easy mission on the field today, and you’re not allowed to go with them. The doctors tell you that you still have to wait at least four more days until you can get back to doing missions with them- no exceptions. 

The one thing you so desperately wish to do gets crushed in a matter of seconds. 

So yes, today was a bad day. 

No amount of protesting will get you out of it, so you’re left to walk out of your boss’s office extremely frustrated and upset. 

Jeno and jaemin try to comfort you, sending sympathized looks, but it’s to no avail. You assure them you’ll be fine and force them to get ready instead of worrying about you, left at your desk to pout and mope. 

Why can’t you go? 

You’re feeling great and better than ever. The mission is so simple. There’s absolutely no reason you can’t go along with them. 

Jeno notices you sulking alone, and even though he has to leave with jaemin, he quickly runs out to get some stuff before heading out. 

When you get back to your station after going to the bathroom- to just stare at the mirror for no reason in particular, (yes, it was one of those life questioning moments) you find some of your favorite snacks stacked in the middle with a small note on top. 

‘cheer up! i know you’ll get through this :) -j ’ 

You frown, looking around, and your frown deepens when you realize jeno and jaemin left already to go on their fun adventure without you. 

You question your desk mates if they saw whoever did this, and they shake their heads. The handwriting was super scrawly and messy- you had no clue whose it was. Obviously, the signed j was a clue, and your mind immediately thinks of either jaemin or jeno. But you guys are so close- why would they leave it at your desk and not just give it to you personally? 

You let out another sigh for the 100th time today, angrily ripping open the snack and stuffing a handful in your mouth. It was delicious, of course, and you’re thankful to whoever got this for you, but now there’s another thing you have to do to add to your burdens already. Find out who did this -albeit with good intentions- and pay them back. 

And in order not to feel like a complete failure, you stay at the office late, buried in paperwork until everyone else has left and you’re alone. Or so you thought. 

You were so focused you completely forgot about jeno and jaemin. Did they come back alright? You figured they probably left you be to not bother you and break your concentration. 

Groaning, you get up and stretch, looking around at the dark room and empty desks. You’re about to gather your stuff and leave when you spot a bright pink sticky note on your office wall. 

You squint, not remembering anyone leaving that there before, and curiously take it from the wall. 

‘man, i wish i could get some ice’

You raise an eyebrow. Is this a prank? Was someone trying to troll you or was it just a mistake?

You want to ignore it and just leave, but curiosity overtakes you. Rereading the note, you contemplate. Ice? The only ice available at the office was from the fridge. 

No, you reassure yourself, you’re just being dumb. It’s probably nothing.  But still, you find yourself hesitantly making your way to the kitchen area. It never hurt to check, right? 

And surprisingly, there’s the same pink sticky note pasted on the fridge door. Eyebrows raised, you quickly take it, not expecting there to actually be another one. 

‘i need to find my gear... where could it be?’

You already know the answer. Or at least, you think you do. Everyone stores their gear and equipment at their lockers, no brainer. 

You smile triumphantly when you spot the familiar bright pink hanging off a random locker door. Eagerly, you snatch it off and read the contents.

‘ah. i ran out of paper.’

You snort. Whoever wrote these was getting lazy. 

To be honest, you had no clue why this was so entertaining to you -it could literally be a prank and lead to nothing for all you know. Nevertheless, it’s an excitement you haven’t had in a while- like your own mission to find out the source of these mysterious notes. 

Quickly skipping over to the copy room, you take another note off the printer. 

‘it’s cold outside. i want to look out from above.’ 

You frown. Look out from above? Your eyes travel over the room, looking for any sign of something up high- before it eventually catches on the sign signaling the stairs leading up. 

You smack yourself in stupidity. Of course. your building had a rooftop- one you really never had a reason to go to. At least, not until now. 

You push past the doors to go up, quickly climbing up two steps at a time to reach the top. Once you see the exit outside, you hesitate. 

What if there was nothing? What if you’re luring yourself into a trap?

You shake your head, reassuring yourself it was fine. Even if someone was trying to murder you, you can take care of yourself.  

Gently pushing the door open, you peek outside. 

The night sky promptly greets you, stars shining brightly above. There are a few lights placed around to brighten the place up, but your attention is focused on the tiny set up in the middle of the rooftop. 

It’s not too extravagant, really- just a simple table with two chairs overlooking the city, but small and cute decorations adorn the place. 

You cautiously walk over, and you notice a stuffed bunny sitting in one of the chairs. Curious, you move closer to examine it. 

It looks like a harmless stuffed bunny, and after a few seconds pass with nothing dangerous happening, you slowly sit down in the other chair across from the toy. 

You’re not sure what you’re waiting for, or why this whole setup is here, but you take the chance to glance out and admire the scenery, shivering at the wind blowing past. 

It’s cold and windy, but the view is beautiful. The city below you, bright lights, and life just going on as you sit back and watch it all. It’s so peaceful, and for once your mind is clear and blank. You sit down in the other empty chair and stare for some time, not paying attention to your surroundings. 

And then a finger pokes your side, and you whip around, body tense and alert until you catch sight of who it is and falter. 

“Jaemin?”

“What are you doing here?”

He smiles. “Took you long enough to get here.”

You gasp. “Did you do all this?” You pause, processing everything before looking back up at him in horror. “How long did you wait for me?”

He rolls his eyes. “A long time.” You wince, mouth opening to apologize, but he cuts you off with a chuckle. “I’m joking. After we came back from the mission, it was already kinda late. And then it took some time to set this up, so don’t worry.”

He’s smiling down at you, and it’s contagious. You can’t help but feel the corners of your lips raise as well. Jaemin removes the bunny and sits down in the chair next to you, wordlessly handing it to you. 

You examine it, finding it to be quite adorable and soft. You giggle, looking back at him and thinking of his bunny agenda. “Is this supposed to represent you?”

He shoots you a mysterious look back, eyes twinkling. “What do you think?”

You pretend to think, tapping a finger on your chin, “well.... bunnies are cute but-“

“So you think I’m cute?” He waggles his eyebrows.

Your face heats up in embarrassment and you threateningly raise a fist at him, watching as he giggles, enjoying your flustered state a little too much. 

“You didn’t let me finish!”

Jaemin’s smile widens, eyes crinkling. “Okay, you can finish now.”

You scoff, turning away from him. “I don’t feel like it anymore,” you grumble. 

He laughs again, hand coming to pet the top of your head. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to rile you up so I could see you not looking sad or glum today.” 

You look down at your hands, clearing your throat in an attempt to ignore the weird thumping in your chest. “Oh, well... did you really stay back and do all this?” 

He shrugs, looking past at the sight below. 

“I know it was a rough day for you.”

You swallow, staring at the bunny in your arms. “But you didn’t have to.” 

“Plus waiting for me,” you lamely add. 

“I wanted to. It’s normal to be sad right now, you know. You have every right to feel upset, so there’s no need to pretend everything’s fine with me. Okay?”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “I’m fine now. it was immature of me to be complaining and sulking over people just looking out for me and my health. I feel bad for-“ your voice gets caught in your throat and you bite your lip. 

For some reason, you’re embarrassed. Embarrassed because you’re emotional and don’t want to cry right now, so you avert your gaze to the city, sucking in a breath and staring ahead.

Jaemin waits for a little before speaking up. 

“You don’t have to talk. We can just sit here. I figured you didn’t want to be lonely. That’s all.”

You feel shy, messing with the fuzzy bunny to distract yourself. Your voice comes out small but you’re still extremely touched. “Thank you nana. You made my day a lot better.” 

“Anything for you, y/n.”

You clutch your hand to your chest, over your heart. The night is chilly, but his words keep you warm inside. Strangely, his presence is enough.

You spend some time just sitting there together in silence, admiring the city lights, night sky, everything, and anything. But the day’s events eventually cause you to get sleepy, and jaemin does too. 

A giggle escapes you when jaemin yawns right after you do, and he has the audacity to look offended. “Why are you laughing? Yawns are contagious- which means you did this to me.” 

You shake your head in amusement, grabbing his hand to tug him up. “Let’s go home and get some rest. We did a lot of work today.”

He groans, getting up and looking around. “How long did we stay out here?”

“I don’t know. But don’t we have to clean all this up?”

“Nah, I can do it tomorrow. It’s late.” 

You shoot him a look and he raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“If you’re gonna clean it tomorrow, you better tell me so I can come up and help you.” You glare at him and he playfully salutes. 

“Yes sir!”

You’re about to leave the bunny behind and set it neatly on the chair, but jaemin swiftly shoots a hand out, preventing you. 

You glance at him, bewildered. 

He looks away sheepishly. “Keep it. I got it for you.”

You blink, before letting out a laugh and clutching it tightly to your chest. Cute. 

“Okay. I promise.” 

ꔫ

How did you get here?

Well, more importantly, why did jeno drunkenly call you? 

You show up disheveled- obviously, since he ruined your movie night and his friends basically forced you to come to pick his wasted butt up. 

You heave a sigh in defeat, glancing around the tables before finally finding jeno and his buddies. 

You try to hide your concern by keeping your arms crossed as you make your way over. The sight of jeno hugging the table while surrounded by his friends laughing at him greets you. “Oh my god- how much did you drink?”

Jeno immediately sits up, eyes gleaming. “You came!”

His friends crowd around him, looking at you with hungry eyes like a predator would at its prey. “So you’re the y/n?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I came. And yes, I’m y/n.”  Upon further examination, you frown, noticing jaemin isn’t here. Excluding jeno, it’s all strangers and unfamiliar faces looking back at you. “How did you guys know my name?”

One of them snorts. “Of course we know who jeno’s girlfriend is.”

You scrunch your face up. “What? I’m not his girlfriend.” You look over at jeno for support, but he’s slumped over, cheek flat on the table and mumbling some random things you don’t care to hear.

“Ugh- whatever. Jeno?” You call out, gently shaking his shoulder.  “Let's get you home.” 

He groans, and with the help of one friend, you get one of his arms across your shoulder, supporting some of his weight. 

“Thanks y/n!”

“Sorry, your boyfriend has surprisingly a lower tolerance than we thought.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You grunt -jeno was much heavier than you expected- but it falls on deaf ears as you walk out of the crowded place. Well, all except for jeno’s.

He frowns, looking at you like a hurt puppy, but his tone and voice come out serious. “Is the thought of dating me that bad? Do you think I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend?”

Your mouth drops open as you let go of your hold on jeno and stare at him, wide-eyed. 

What?

You exhale in frustration, ignoring his words and quickly blaming it on him being drunk. But he doesn’t budge, staring at you earnestly, and you yank his arm helplessly. “Come on, jeno. We need to get home.” 

And with another desperate tug from you, his body unfreezes and staggers closer to you, causing your bodies to be almost pressed together. 

Jeno doesn’t seem fazed, while you flinch at the sudden proximity. His stare is strong, eyes searching yours fervently.  

“Have you never thought about dating me before?”

A surge of heat rushes through your body and you avoid his intense gaze, stuttering hotly, “W-what are you even talking about?! Ya-just-let’s go.”

You grab his hand and stumble out of the place, into the dark night. 

You huff, dragging him over to your car. “Where’s jaemin? Did he not come?”

“I dunno. He said he was busyyy.” 

You wonder where jaemin possibly could be, but jeno loses his footing while walking and your thoughts are pushed back to focus on helping him. Somehow, he gets into the passenger seat, and you carefully buckle the seatbelt over him. 

Once you get in and onto the road, all without a single word spoken, you glance over to jeno curiously. He stares out the window, looking up at the passing cloudy sky, no moon in sight.

“You know,” you start, “you should drink more responsibly. We have work tomorrow.” 

He looks back at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “But when I feel bad, I drink. I drink so I don’t have to think about it.”

You frown. “What’s making you feel bad?”

Jeno shifts in his seat, voice small. “Things. Feelings. They’re confusing. How do you find the answer? How can you tell if what you want is right?” 

How can you tell if the person you want wants you back? is what he wishes to say, but he swallows it, keeping it inside for another day. 

The ride is silent for some time, leaving his spoken thoughts to simmer until you exhale. 

“I don’t know, jeno. I honestly have no clue either. 

Once you arrive at his place, you assist him out of the car, barely making it through his door.  

He crashes into bed, whining, and you gently tuck him in. 

After jeno seems settled, you get up to leave him to rest, but a hand on your wrist prevents you. 

You slowly look back. His eyes are still closed, body sprawled out on the bed, but his grip on your arm stays.

“Stay,” he breathes. Whether he’s awake or asleep talking unconsciously, you’re not sure. But you hesitate, staring down at him. 

You think jeno falls asleep, breathing slowly evening out and hand loosening its hold on yours before falling to the side. You smile softly, adjusting his blankets and fixing his bangs delicately.

“Cheer up, jeno. I hope you find an answer to whatever’s bothering you.”

And with that, you turn and make your way home without a single look back. 

And sometime after you’re gone, one of jeno’s eyes just barely peek open to see an empty room, no sign of you. 

Jeno sighs, already falling back under. 

How can he tell you that you’re the only answer he needs? 

ꔫ

Just two more days until you can get back to missions.

You remind yourself of that, repeating it constantly from the moment you wake up. It’s no surprise you didn’t get good sleep last night- for one, the whole drunk jeno situation. and two, the stuff his friends said.... and what jeno himself said as well. 

All the boyfriend talk made you uncomfortable. It’s not like you didn’t want to find the right person for you, at the right time, but it still made you awkward thinking of your friend in a different light you’ve never thought of him in before. 

You can’t sleep when his face keeps appearing, words echoing in your brain. 

“Have you never thought about dating me before?” 

You smack yourself. No. Stop. Enough of that. 

In the morning, you busy yourself with paperwork, only stopping when jaemin sneaks up from behind to scare you. It doesn’t work. 

You grin, turning around to catch him mid-act. “How many times are you going to try this?”

He pouts, arms dropping to his side. “As many as it takes for me to properly scare you.”

Letting out a huff, you open your mouth to retort back but your sight lands on a very familiar figure entering the office. 

When you spot jeno, your mind instantly flashes back to yesterday. His eyes meet yours and you quickly avert your gaze, trying to reimmerse yourself in conversation with jaemin. 

Jeno frowns, wondering what the sudden act was for. But at the same time, he was definitely hungover and although you kindly left medicine and water by his bed yesterday night, he was still feeling like crap. 

He walks over to you two, and you abruptly tense. 

“Hey, y/n, jaemin.”

“Hi.” You cringe, your voice sounding not as casual and natural as you hoped. 

Jaemin gets called over to assist a co-worker, and jeno takes the opportunity. 

“Thanks about last night. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what my friends were thinking.”

You gulp. “It’s fine. You’re welcome.”

And then you proceed to spin around and pretend to focus on work, your back to him. (As if you had any work left when you stayed back and did it all a few days ago.)

Jeno shrugs, assuming you must be busy or something along the lines of that so he leaves you be. But for the rest of the day, you avoid as much interaction with him as possible. Whenever jeno tries to talk to you, you give short and curt answers back, not trusting what would spill out of your mouth if you spoke anymore. 

Around lunchtime, Jeno sits at his desk, spinning in circles and wondering what possibly happened with you. Could it be something he did last night? 

He exhales, getting up to grab some water from the kitchen. And lo and behold, you’re already there, filling up your own bottle. 

He waits for a second, gauging your reaction, and there’s no way he can mistake the sight of your body stiffening and the way you avoid his gaze. 

“Y/n?”

Your grip on the bottle tightens. “Uh-yeah?”

“Is there something wrong? Did I do something last night?”

The sound of the water filtering stops, and you fumble, trying to find the right words. 

“Do you not remember?”

He stops, rubbing his temple in irritation. “Not really? I just know you had to come and pick me up. Again, I’m really sorry...”

“Ah.” You feel a slight sense of comfort. So he really doesn’t remember anything he said... “Well, it’s nothing, your friends just said some weird things, and I-“ 

He quickly interrupts you, ears turning pink. “Listen, ignore anything I or my friends said last night. A lot of nonsense comes out of our mouths when we’re drunk, so I fully apologize on their behalf. I can talk to them and-”

You internally heave a huge sigh of relief when he says that, heart somewhat at ease now.

“No-no, it’s alright...,” you fiercely shake your head. 

“Oh, okay.” Jeno’s hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck self-consciously. 

You finally allow yourself to relax, noticing his messy hair and biting your lip to hold back a laugh. “Jeno- did you do your hair this morning?”

You reach to fix the stray hairs, patting some flyaways down, when his hand shoots up, grabbing your wrist and stopping you effectively. 

You freeze, smile slowly falling while staring at jeno in shock and confusion, his hand still keeping yours on top of his head in place. Jeno looks back at you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

One beat. 

Two beats. 

You swallow. 

“Jen?” You ask tentatively. 

He snaps out of it, blushing and removing his grip from your wrist, causing your arm to fall back down at your side. 

“Oh-yeah. Sorry. I’ll get going now. Good luck with your work today.” He dashes off, leaving you to stand there alone. 

You shiver, brushing over the spot where he held your wrist. What was that all about?

ꔫ

After lunch, you decide to stop by jaemin’s desk, wanting to ask if he’s attending the party tomorrow night. 

You eagerly roll your chair over, wheels squeaking against the carpeted floor. 

“Hey jaem-“

Your chair comes to a slow. 

You find Jaemin at his desk, using his arms as a pillow as he sleeps peacefully, head turned to the side and slow breaths huffing in and out. 

You quietly laugh to yourself. Scooting closer, you allow yourself to watch him for a second, glad that he was getting some rest instead of constantly working, helping other people out at work, or helping others by volunteering. 

You unconsciously lean closer, fingers lightly brushing his hair from his face and watching his body peacefully rise and fall. 

Jaemin was always the person everyone went to for assistance. Everyone adored jaemin. You wonder why he’s never dated anyone in the time you’ve known him- he and jeno were always popular and well-liked. 

You fall into a daze watching him, just from how peaceful he looks, losing track of the time. 

And then his eyes shoot open, and you jump back slightly, startled. 

He doesn’t move from his position, just simply staring back at you, and for a second you can do nothing but stare back. 

And then he breaks into a sleepy but still amused grin, apples of his cheeks protruding clearly. 

“How long have you been awake?” You ask slowly, cautiously. 

“How long have you been staring at me?” He counters back. 

You let out an embarrassing sound, scooting back. 

“Doesn’t matter. It was just shocking to see you getting some rest for once.”

He raises an eyebrow but you ignore it, attempting to get back on topic. “Anyways, are you going to the party tomorrow?”

“What party?” Jaemin asks bluntly. 

You should’ve guessed that he didn’t know. “Our division’s hosting a party tomorrow at 7. To celebrate the 8th anniversary or something like that. It’s supposed to be fun though. Are you going?”

He purses his lips, running through his mental schedule and future plans. “I suppose I can.” 

You fake a gasp. “The na jaemin actually has time to go to a party?”

He jokingly pushes your chair away from him in revenge, but it’s so sudden that you jerk and lose your balance in the seat, about to tip the chair and fall over. 

Thank goodness for his overly trained reflexes that allow him to lunge forward and catch the sides of your chair, safely stabilizing it while he’s positioned over you. 

You quickly glance up at him, heart racing and adrenaline pumped. It doesn’t get better when you notice his arms caging you in. 

Jaemin’s concerned expression meets your shocked one, and when he asks if you’re okay, you simply can’t function, opting to just gaze up at him with wide eyes. 

“-y/n???”

You come back to your senses, rapidly nodding and ignoring the rest of his worried questions. Returning to your desk, you bang your head against the hard surface, mind jumbled. You just need a break from men. 

It feels like forever until it’s finally time to go home. Your body feels sluggish and brain fried as you make your way out the door. Locating your car, you somehow spot the two people you really don’t want to see after what happened earlier -with the both of them. 

You recoil, quickly avoiding jeno and jaemin like a frightened mouse and speedwalking over to your car. Once you get in, you let out a sigh of relief, finally getting a chance alone to think about today’s developments. 

Is it just you, or are jeno and jaemin acting so strange recently- especially after you got stabbed? 

Before, you would’ve said that your teammates were the people you could trust with anything and everything. But lately, they’re the two people that have been driving you crazy. 

You rub your eyes in defeat. Everything’s confusing- it feels like everything’s changed. 

But one question remains.  

How exactly? 

ꔫ

Ryujin drags you along next to her, ignoring your complaints about the outfit she chose for you. 

She worked in a different division from you, meaning you didn’t get to see her often, though you were still able to keep in contact. It felt like meeting up with an old friend occasionally, there were never any awkwardness or boring moments. 

And somehow, she managed to sneak her way into your division’s party. (popular people things, you grumbled.)

“It feels like we’re going to a college party again.”

You shake your head. “Don’t remind me of those.”

You fiddle with your clothes for the nth time, ryujin having picked an outfit you would’ve never worn on your own accord. 

“I’m regretting letting you choose what to wear for me.”

She only laughs. “Yeah-well, too late now! Besides, you look really good, so who cares?”

“Me!”

Ryujin ignores you, glancing around at the apartment doors and looking for the right number. 

“Ah, here it is. Number 55.”

You knock on the door, and it slowly opens to reveal one of your coworker's apartment. 

There’s a fair amount of people already there, chatting away or dancing to the subtle music. 

Good, at least it wasn’t like those cringy college parties with ear-deafening music and the stench of pure alcohol filling the place. 

Your eyes travel across the room, taking it all in. 

“Are you looking for him?” Ryujin teases, nudging your side. Your eyes flick back to her, a confused look in them. “What do you mean?”

She rolls her eyes, “Who else would I be talking about? Obviously-

She gets cut off by lia, running over to the two do you with a squeal. 

“Y/n, you look so pretty!!”

You shake your head, embarrassed. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t come with jeno and jaemin,” she remarks. 

Your mouth opens. That’s right, you totally forgot about them. Searching around, you finally spot both of them playing beer pong with a couple more of your coworkers.

Smiling, you excuse yourself to greet them. 

“Getting the party started without me?” You tease, walking over to the table. 

Everyone turns at the sound of your voice. Jaemin, mid-shot about to throw the ball, stops when he sees you. 

Jeno swallows, eyes taking in your appearance. 

You frown at the lack of response. “Guys?”

Immediately, everything resumes. They all greet you, and jeno hands you a cup. 

“It’s light, don’t worry.” You nod in thanks, taking a sip. 

He suddenly feels hot, hands picking at his shirt. “You look really good.” 

You roll your eyes. “Sure, it’s probably just because you’ve only ever seen me in my work clothes or pajamas.”

Jeno shakes his head shyly. “I mean it.”

The air suddenly feels weird, so you shuffle a bit, clearing your throat.

“Oh. Thanks, I guess?”

The party resumes with you hanging out with the boys and occasionally talking to other friends. But it’s been a while since you’ve gone out like this, and eventually, you start to feel a bit overwhelmed. 

Jeno and jaemin quickly take notice of your quiet behavior and short replies. 

Jaemin nudges your side softly. “Are you okay?” 

You feel yourself faintly nod, trying your best to take a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s just a little stuffy in here.”

At your words, jeno and jaemin both start, immediately offering you water at the same time. 

You hesitate, staring down at both of their outstretched hands. 

“Uh,” you awkwardly laugh, getting up. “It’s alright. I’m just gonna go to the restroom....”

You don’t. You walk over to the kitchen, quickly obtaining and downing a glass of water with a satisfied exhale at the end. And then, instead of returning to the rest of the group, you take a detour to the balcony, quietly stepping out into the cold night and shutting the door behind you.  

Jeno gets increasingly worried. It’s been like 15 minutes and you still haven’t returned. He asks jaemin, and he only shrugs, saying something about how you probably needed some space.

But it’s not a good enough answer for him, so jeno goes to check the bathroom, and as expected, you’re not there. 

And in fact, you’re not anywhere inside as far as his he can tell. Anxious, he begins to go around, asking a few people if they’ve seen you. Most of them shake their heads, stating unhelpful information referring to your location. 

But eventually, while waking his way past the kitchen, he hears your voice. It comes from outside, past the door that leads to the balcony. 

Jeno stops, listening for a second. He can pick up on another person’s voice along with yours- he believes it’s your friend - the one whose name started with an R?

Your voices are faint, and he quietly leans in closer to the door, holding his breath and praying you don’t notice his presence. 

“-you like him, huh?”

He hears your soft voice. “Again? What are you talking about, Ryu?”

Right, he thinks. Your friend's name was ryujin. 

“Don’t act oblivious. You two have been teammates for so long now- I can tell.”

Then jeno hears noises that he assumes are you getting flustered and he has to hold back a laugh.

But then the sounds of shuffling suddenly start, and jeno barely hides away past the corner -thank his spy training. 

Jeno presumes that ryujin gets up and heads back inside, closing the door and leaving you alone again. 

He counts 15 seconds before walking over to the door and gently opening it. He’s greeted by the sight of you, staring up at the sky, and his breath is stolen away once again. 

But you turn at the noise, relaxing when you spot jeno. 

“Oh. Hey. What’s up?”

He hums, sitting in the chair next to you. “I didn’t know where you went.” 

“But you found me,” you remark dryly. 

“....where’s jaemin?”

Jeno shrugs, having forgotten about jaemin in his quest to find you. 

Maybe the tranquil silence between you two and the breathtaking sight in front of him is what causes him to reflect on everything. 

“Y/n,” he speaks up after a while. 

You nod, waiting for him to continue. 

“I know I’ve said this a bunch of times, but thank you for saving me.”

“Didn’t I already tell you to let that go?” You joke. 

“Yeah, but I want to keep saying it because I truly mean it. I’ll always be grateful because of what you did. I still feel terrible for not paying attention-“

You place a hand over his, and he falters. 

You don’t look at him though, gaze still locked in front of you. “I already accepted your apology, jeno...”

“But am I still allowed to feel horrible about that time I practically forced you to come and pick a drunk me up?”

You giggle, removing your hand from his, and jeno unconsciously frowns at the loss of contact. 

“If it makes you feel any better, then sure. But....” you start. 

He nods, gesturing for you to keep going. 

“What was bothering you that night? You said you drank so much because you felt bad.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you quickly add. 

Jeno exhales a long breath through his nose. He debates internally, switching back and forth between the options. 

Is there any way for him to say that he likes you? That jeno likes you- a lot?

And that he doesn’t know if you like him back? 

Sometimes, he thinks the smiles you send him are special, different from the ones you give to others. Or whenever he thinks about the time you took care of him, helped him, sacrificed your life for him, he believes it could be something more. 

But at the same time, jeno doubts himself. He can’t help but wonder if you really do feel the same way or if it’s just you being you. You’re always smiling at everyone, helping others out whenever you got the chance- being the selfless, admirable person you are. 

He stayed up countless nights, replaying and overanalyzing all the interactions you had with him throughout the day, wondering, hoping, wishing. 

“I like someone,” jeno finally speaks. 

But before you can react, he continues. “And I don’t know if they like me back.”

He looks down at the ground, his voice quiet. “Because I’m just me, you know? There's honestly nothing special about me. I can’t even work up the courage to confess- what would they even like about me?”

“She probably doesn’t even like me back,” he finishes. 

You wait, letting his words fully sink in. 

And then you let out a short, dry laugh, and he quickly glances up at you, bewildered at your low tone- a sudden change in the air surrounding you. 

“Is this really what was bothering you that night?”

“-are you really doubting yourself, lee jeno? Did you forget how great of a person you are? How hardworking and strong you are? How kind and thoughtful you are? You’re a good guy, and anyone would be a fool not to see that.”

Your eyes hold a certain intensity to them, never once breaking eye contact with his. 

Maybe you said something else, maybe you weren’t done talking, but jeno isn’t sure. 

He suddenly felt a rush of hope when you were speaking -at the look on your face when you talked about him so seriously and with so much conviction. 

So much to the point where he can’t stop himself. 

It’s like his body has a mind of its own, forcing Jeno to lean in towards you, face coming much closer to yours. 

You trail off, noticing his sudden bold move. He doesn’t say anything, eyes flicking down to your lips. 

Your breath hitches.

You don’t know how to react to the sudden intimacy, so you simply stop, body locking up and heart thundering in your chest. 

Jeno brings you closer as your eyes widen, not a single part of you moving as you internally panic. 

“Hey, who’s out here-“

Jeno falters, eyes flying open. 

You take the chance to scoot back, breathless, and quickly get up to meet the eyes of the person who burst outside and essentially ruined the moment. 

Thank god it wasn’t any of your friends- just the apartment’s owner who simply wanted to know who was outside. 

After quickly explaining, it’s a golden opportunity for you to get the heck out of there, internally thanking them for coming out at that moment. 

Quickly apologizing, you make your escape, fumbling past the door and back into the party, looking for your belongings and searching for the exit.

You don’t bothering telling anyone about your departure, instead coming face to face with a confused ryujin, to which you explain that you’re tired (not a lie) and need to go back home and make sure you didn’t get robbed (also not entirely a lie, you really had no clue if you locked your doors or not). 

And with that, you clumsily put your shoes on and push past her, ignoring the startled protests and questions. 

Your mind is buzzing, the alcohol not helping one bit. 

As you continue on the path back to the comforting solidarity of your home, you can’t help but think back to what occurred earlier. 

What just happened? 

You don’t even want to imagine it, but it seemed like jeno was trying to... 

kiss you. 

maybe? right?

You run a hand over your face, having an internal crisis. 

Hah, no way. 

Was he just that drunk? Like that one time you had to pick him up? 

Should you just disregard what happened this time as well?

Are you making a big deal out of nothing? Was it just an accident and you misunderstood his intentions?

Everything feels so overwhelming and confusing, once you get home, you immediately collapse into bed and force yourself to fall asleep and not have to think about it anymore. 

And it’s very much a good thing that you did because your boss sends you and the boys on a mission the next evening. 

And yeah, maybe you were still feeling like crap and hungover, but it was your first mission after getting stabbed. Even when you’ve been on countless missions- ones much harder than the one you were about to embark on- you still felt the nervousness and anxiety to perform well and succeed in your stomach. 

And luckily, or maybe not so luckily, you didn’t have any time to discuss what occurred last night between you and jeno. 

He stays quiet the whole ride, and you’re not sure whether to be grateful or concerned. 

Jaemin worriedly asks you about where you went last night, and you shrug, saying something about how you were tired and wanted to go home early. 

The atmosphere in the car is weird, and you want to blame it on the fact that it’s been a while since you’ve been out as a team, but you all know it’s more than that. 

Shutting your eyes shut, you decide to put it all away for now. 

This was your job, and you couldn’t let personal matters get involved. 

“You guys ready?” jaemin asks, and the three of you share a look before you nod. 

“Yes. Let’s go.”

The driver pulls up, and it’s strangely giving you a sense of deja vu when you get out of the car and into the dark and windy night, as well as an ominous feeling, like something horrible was going to happen- but you brushed it off and blamed it on your nerves. 

You recall the words of your boss- just look around the area for anything suspicious and report back. Fortunately, you’re outside at an abandoned plaza, a large lake in the middle of it, making the location seem much bigger than it was. 

Your instincts immediately come back as you glance around, taking in your surroundings. 

The area was suspected to be taken over by an unidentified group working against your organization, so you decided to split up and cover more ground to search for anything fishy. 

“Jaemin, I think you can search the general outside area, around the lake and stuff.”

He nods at your words, adjusting his earpiece. 

“I’ll go near the bridge,” jeno murmurs and you exhale, still taking in your surroundings.

“Alright, let’s go.”

And before you can make any moves, you feel both of your hands being grabbed, your body getting tugged in opposite directions. 

You let out a small yelp in surprise, glancing around to find jeno having taken one of your hands to pull you one way while jaemin did the same with your other hand, pulling you the opposite way in his direction. 

There’s an awkward moment as they realize what they both just did.

And still, a few seconds pass while you glance back and forth between the two and neither jaemin nor jeno have yet to let go of you. 

Nervously laughing, you shake off both of their hands, muttering, “I’ll just go to that building over there... y-you know, by myself....”

As quick as possible, you make your escape (once again) briskly walking away from your teammates while still keeping an eye out. 

There’s nothing suspicious around, but you still have an unsettled feeling in your stomach that won’t go away, no matter how much you reassure yourself. 

Walking out of the building, you catch sight of jeno. You still, awkwardly standing in the doorway and debating whether to go over to him or hide- even when there was absolutely no reason to be hiding from him. 

Either way, you don’t get to decide as he spots you and frantically heads your way, looking panicked, which immediately sets you off. 

Breathless, he runs towards you, and you tense, examining his current condition. 

“What? What is it jeno?”

He takes a quick glance around before pulling you back inside the building urgently as you stammer indignantly. 

“There are guys,” he gasps. “Spotted them coming this way.” 

You curse, trying to hide from the open spots through the building’s windows. 

“That’s not it,” jeno adds, voice lowering to a whisper. “It’s the same gang from before.” 

Your eyes widen as you press a hand to your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“How many?”

Jeno blinks. “At least seven.”

“What are we going to do?” Your heart rate quickens as you remember your other teammate. 

“Shoot, what about jaem? He’s still out there- does he know?”

Jeno lets out a frustrated sigh. “No- I spotted you first and quickly tried to get us to hide. I totally forgot.”

Exhaling, you press your earpiece, speaking softly, 

“Jaem. Jaemin? Can you hear us?”

The two of you wait patiently, but there’s no response. 

You repeat his name, and so does jeno. 

There’s nothing. 

Your anxiety increases and jeno softly squeezes your arm to comfort you.

“I’m sure jaemin’s fine, he can take care of himself.”

You frown, head snapping up to him. “How do you know that? Jaemin might not have any clue and those guys could easily spot him wandering around. He could get ambushed and since there’s more than-“

You get interrupted by the sound of approaching voices, apprehension striking you through the heart. 

It takes everything in you not to make a sound as jeno pulls you closer to him, lessening the space between you and also the chance of anyone spotting your figure just barely peeking out. 

You close your eyes, the sound of your soft breaths filling the air as you just focus on the feeling of his hand on your back, the noises from the people passing by getting fainter and fainter. 

Once you confirm the coast is clear, you immediately back away, ignoring how jeno clears his throat and running a hand through your hair in stress. 

You could always attack, you had no doubt in your abilities, but there was no telling how many more guys there were and if it would blow your cover or not. 

“Are you sure there were seven?”

He frowns. “As far as I could tell...”

You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering, “I know we could take them on, but- there’s no telling if they have backup or if they’re planning to do something here at this time or not.” 

Jeno nods solemnly, cautiously moving towards a window and peeking out as you continue to try and contact jaemin. 

“It’s hard to tell,” he whispers, “but I think they’re leaving.”

Your eyes fly open, silently making your way to the window to glance out. You squint, the darkness obscuring your vision of the shadowy figures outside. 

But jeno seems to be right, they seem to be packing up and leaving- although you’re not quite sure what they came here to do in the first place. 

It feels like forever- waiting for them to slowly leave the area, plus a few extra minutes to confirm. 

You pick at your hands anxiously, waiting. Where was jaemin? Did he get hurt? Why was he not responding? 

Jeno finally gives the okay, and you leap to your feet, not caring anymore and bursting your way out of the building. 

Gasping for air, you frantically search the whole area, running all around the place and calling for jaemin as jeno struggles to keep up with you- pleading for you to slow down a little. 

You pay no heed to his words, the wind blowing your hair past and head whipping from side to side as you call out, voice hoarse, “Jaemin?”

You hear a faint shuffle, and your eyes zero in the spot near the fountain, where some benches are. 

Your legs work on their own accord, bringing you closer as you call for jaemin once again. 

You hear a muffled response, and adrenaline rushes through you. 

Jaemin squeezes out from between one of the benches and a large positioned rock, looking albeit a little shaken but otherwise seeming unharmed and normal. 

And for some reason, you can’t control yourself, running over to him and placing your hands on his face, sides, everywhere. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

He swallows. “I’m alright. I spotted those guys luckily before they spotted me, and somehow found this spot to hide. It was good that they stopped pretty close to where I was hiding- I was able to hear some of their conversations.”

You bristle. “It was good? How could it be good when you almost got spotted?

You hear jeno come up from behind, catching his breath from chasing after you. “Thank goodness you’re safe- why didn’t you answer us through the earpiece?”

Jaemin shrugs. “I couldn’t make any noise or else they would find me.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Yeah, well you could’ve done at least something. We had no idea what could’ve happened to you- if you got hurt or needed help!” 

They both look surprised at your outburst. Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “ Chill y/n, I’m alright. You don’t have to be so worried-“

“How can I not be so worried when I almost lost you?” Your chest heaves and your fists are clamped tightly in balls to contain your frustration at his reaction to this situation. 

How could he be so calm about this? 

Jeno watches from the side, speechless. 

Jaemin takes a step closer to you, confused and still a little shocked, and you take one back while staring furiously back at him. 

“Lost me?” Y/n, you wouldn’t have lost me, because you know I can take fend for myself. These kinds of things happen all the time on our missions, I don’t get why you’re so worked up over this-“

“Because I have feelings for you, idiot!” 

Oh. 

There it was. 

You inhale sharply, turning around and furiously stalking away. To where- you’re not sure, but you do know that you just need to get away from this place. 

Jeno and jaemin stand there, unsure of what to do or say. 

But jeno wasn’t unsure of what to say. He simply had nothing to say at all. 

He wants to go after you, starting in your direction, but jaemin’s oddly quiet and low voice stops him. 

“Don’t. Leave her alone for a while.”

And the tone in his voice tells jeno that jaemin wants to be left alone for a while too as he eventually stalks off. 

Jeno stands there, alone, wondering if this was how it was really meant to be. 

ꔫ

You walk for a long time. 

A long time back to your place. Somehow, you do it. 

There’s a lot of things that fuel your stamina. 

Anger, frustration, confusion. 

For one, you had absolutely no idea why you just randomly shouted out in a fit of anger that you liked jaemin. 

Because you weren’t even sure if you did or not. 

And of course, the whole jeno situation as well. 

You’ve never thought of jeno differently before- in a romantic way before. 

And when he almost kissed you?

They both make your head hurt, spin in circles until you can’t think straight anymore. 

Since when did things change?

Since when did all these feelings get involved and complicate your entire relationship with each other?

You feel tired, your legs taking you back to the one place you want to go back to, the place where you can be alone. 

Once you miraculously make your way to your familiar home, the sight seeming so much more welcoming than it ever did, you collapse into bed, feeling the most exhausted you’ve ever felt. 

It’s the only thing you can do now- simply because you don’t want to do anything else. 

And the next morning, you avoid everyone’s calls, concerned messages wondering about where you are and why you haven’t gone to work this morning. 

Instead, you decide to do what you do best. Ignore everyone and shut yourself out from the world.

You do contact your boss and tell him that you’re taking a short break for personal reasons- even when you just returned back to your job. 

 And answer when ryujin texts you, blowing up your phone the second she found out you were “taking a break”. 

Ryu (7:36am): what’s going on 

Ryu (7:36am): why are you suddenly not going to work

Ryu (7:37am): y/n

Ryu (7:37am): answer me 

Ryu (7:37am): answer me 

Ryu (7:38am): answer 

you (8:02am): I can’t believe im saying this

you (8:02am): But 

Ryu (8:03am): omg you’re alive 

you (8:04am): Boy problems 

Ryu (8:04am): what

you (8:04am): Yeah 

you (8:05am): That’s it 

Ryu (8:05am): wait huh with who tho

you (8:06am): ...

Ryu (8:07am): oh 

Ryu (8:07am): oh no 

You turn your phone off for the rest of the day, feeling conflicted. 

Was it childish of you to just cancel work to avoid two guys? 

Was it childish to run away from your feelings? 

You get an answer that night- in the form of a knock at your door. 

You lazily get up, casually swinging the door open with no regard for who was behind it. 

Once you get a glimpse of who it is, you stop in your tracks, heart stopping as you stare at him. 

“-What are you doing here?”

He stares at you with desperate eyes. Those eyes. When you were stabbed. When you were upset from being stuck on bed rest and not able to do anything. When you were alone and he was there to comfort you. 

With the same eyes you’ve probably looked at him with a million times before- you’ve just never realized until recently. 

And then his lips on are yours, and you automatically entangle your hands into his hair. 

The door shuts behind him with a frantic slam, effectively sealing the plans for your night. 

ꔫ

Spending days away from everyone and everything allowed you to really reflect on everything that happened in the past month.

Getting stabbed, taking a break from work, finding out what was really hidden deep inside you- what was what you needed and wanted. 

You were grateful to have the best teammates, ones that were selfless and always took care of you. 

Especially now, after you got hurt and suspended from work, you were still grateful and appreciative of both jeno and jaemin. 

Even when certain things and situations confused you, brought new feelings and secrets arise, you would never change a thing. 

And when you sneak a glance to the guy still sleeping peacefully by your side, arms wrapped around tightly around you like he’s afraid you would escape or leave, you take the chance to look at him- truly look at him and all his features in a way you’ve always done before, but could never figure it out. 

You always admired that jaemin was always the one taking care of everyone else- always selfless and thinking of others. 

Always understanding and knowing what to do. 

He’s always there. 

And it took a lot more for you to realize that’s what you wanted, and that maybe the two of you are more alike than you thought. 

Maybe you do like jaemin. Maybe you’ve liked jaemin for a long time and just never realized it.

And maybe you just want to love on him back a little. 

(but just remove all the previous maybes.)

ꔫ

Jeno’s surprised to see you return to work that day- although late, but still here nonetheless. 

You look much better and lively- he wonders what could’ve happened. (even when deep down, he already knows what must’ve happened.)

It’s hard to ignore the private whispers and looks that you and jaemin share, like you have a secret or inside joke that only jeno doesn’t know about, but obviously, it‘s just further proof that there’s something going on between you two. 

And it’s hard to hide his true emotions in front of you and pretend that everything’s okay. 

Pretend that you and jaemin together weren’t killing him on the inside and the fact that you’ve only ever thought of jeno as a friend wasn’t true. 

Jeno so desperately wished that he realized he always liked you for a long time before, maybe even since the beginning. 

Maybe things would have been different. Maybe if he knew earlier and told you sooner, you wouldn’t have discovered and revealed your feelings for jaemin.

Jeno also wishes that he knew that you never returned his own feelings at that time. Right when you jumped in front of him and said those five words the day you almost lost your life. 

And yet, the smile on your face and sparkle in your eyes directed towards jeno is the same- maybe even a bit brighter now as he was all too familiar with the looks and laughs you sent his way before. 

He wishes he knew it didn’t mean anything, and he didn’t fall for that smile.

Like the one, you’re sending to him now. 

“Hey jeno, we’re gonna go grab some food. Wanna come?” 

He grimaces and shakes his head, muttering some excuse about how he needs to watch his caloric intake. 

It wasn’t that -he would gladly take food any day. But his appetite was gone. And to be honest, it had been for a while. 

As he watches you walk off with jaemin, hands lovingly intertwined, that’s when he realizes it. 

Yes, you might’ve saved jeno’s life, and you might’ve even been the love of his life -if he truly thought about it- but he was never yours. 

And he never would be. 

a/n: the fact that i had to use a random decider to choose the ending bc nomin things :) anyways if you made it to the end then ty for reading

taglist: @skrtbabe ​

reminder- any kind of feedback is always appreciated :)

[goldenraeofsun]

Enhanced Extraction Techniques

Also available at AO3

“Cas?”

Cas whirls around. If he was standing on a normal floor, his shoes would have squeaked with the abrupt turn. In the Empty, though, his feet don’t make a sound. “Dean?” he calls back, his heart soaring in his chest.

“Cas? Where are you, man?”

Cas spins in another circle, his eyes straining against the darkness. The oppressive blankness of nothing presses against his eyeballs like an almost tangible film. He tries again, “Dean?”

“Cas?”

“Dean!” Cas takes off in the direction of Dean’s voice.

“Are you there?”

 Cas walks faster, anticipation quickening his heels. “I’m coming!”

“I can’t find you!”

“I’m here!” Cas calls back desperately.

“I’m running out of time here, buddy! Spell’s not gonna last forever. Where the hell are you?”

Panicked, Cas breaks out into a run. “I’m coming, Dean!”

“Are you?”

Cas stops dead. If he was back on Earth, he would have fallen flat on his face with the momentum. He turns to his right, where Dean’s voice just came.

“Cas? You there?”

Dean’s voice definitely came from his left that time.

“I need you.”

Cas swallows. Dean’s voice is coming from directly in front of him now. Icy dread creeps up his spine, but he feels hot all over.

“You make it too easy, Castiel.”

Dean never calls him by his full name, not in more than a decade. He is not talking with Dean.

“Nobody is coming for you.”

Cas doesn’t respond. Shamed beyond reason, he just stands there because there is nothing else to do. He can’t hide from the Empty. The Empty is everywhere.

Black ooze, blacker than the surrounding darkness, bubbles up from the floor. The Empty resolves into Cas’s own face, to his surprise. He’d been expecting Dean.

It shrugs, a knowing smirk playing on its lips. “What can I say? If you’re determined to keep me awake, I might as well amuse myself.”

“Your sense of humor leaves much to be desired,” Cas says as tonelessly as he can manage.

The Empty crosses its arms over its chest. “My options are limited, aren’t they?” it says snidely. “I can’t put you to sleep, so I can’t sleep. I might as well make this experience as hellish for you as it is for me.”

Cas frowns. “You could always negate our deal. Send me back to Earth.”

The Empty laughs. “That’s not how it works. That was a one-way trip.”

Cas grinds his teeth. “Then it seems like we’re at an impasse.”

“An impasse requires two forces of equal power,” the Empty tuts. “And you, my little gnat, have no power in this equation. You are my plaything. What was it that Gabriel said? A thousand channels and nothing’s on. Except you.”

Before Cas can respond, the Empty disappears, dissolving into a tarry splatter and absorbing into whatever passes as the floor in this place. 

 * * *

Cas wanders. He used to sleep while he was bored, but the Empty truly reigns supreme in his dreams. Cas killed Naomi’s Dean facsimile a thousand times, a million times. He watched Dean rake leaves, Crowley whispering poisoned promises into his ear. He walked away as Dean hurts and rages silently behind him in the Bunker.

So Cas stays awake. He’s an angel. It isn’t hard.

Dean’s voice occasionally calls for him.

Cas ignores it.

He wanders for what seems like miles, like hundreds of miles. Nothing ever changes in the Empty. With every step forward, he meets the same bleak blackness. The closest comparison in his long memory is the fraction of a second before the Big Bang - there was emptiness then too, but it was filled with a pregnant sense of promise. In the Empty - nothing.

Until.

Dean is running towards him.

Cas blinks a few times to make sure, even though his vision is perfect.

“Cas,” Dean breaks the silence first, “I found you.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes - any louder, and Dean will hear the trembling. “You’re here.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean says with a wink. “Now, come on. We’re getting out of here.” He takes off in the direction he came from, glancing behind him to check on Cas.

“We are?” Cas asks, following.

Dean throws him a disbelieving look. “Of course, dude. Sam and Jack are prepping the spell to get us back to the Bunker. We got Chuck by the short and curlies, but we’re one power player short. So we gotta get a move on.”

“So you need me?” Cas asks.

“Your mojo is the ticket,” Dean says with a little grin. “Chuck wiped all the angels off the Earth except Michael. And that dick isn’t answering our prayers, so you’re our next best bet.”

The joy at seeing Dean wavers. “I am?” he asks haltingly.

Dean shrugs. “We gotta work with what we have. And we just remembered you were here, out of Chuck’s reach. Our own spare angel!”

Cas barely holds back his flinch. Hunching in on himself, he mutters, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean assures him, misreading his reaction completely. “We have a plan.”

Cas sighs. “Of course you do. What is it?”

“Sam found a spell,” Dean says. “It’ll rip Chuck apart, and, since Amara’s inside him - which, gross - it’ll maintain the balance when the spell takes her apart too.” 

Dean stops walking.

Cas looks around, but nothing sets aside this patch of emptiness from any other. No illuminated rift, no magic symbols, no X marking the spot - nothing.

“The catch is,” Dean says as he turns to Cas, his face regretful, “the spell needs an angel’s grace.”

In a blink of an eye, an angel blade drops into Dean’s palm.

Cas blinks. No beings but angels can manifest that particular weapon.

Dean raises the blade, fingers flexing on the handle. “You know,” he says conversationally, “Now that I think about it, we don’t actually need the angel himself - just the battery.”

Cas stands his ground, his eyes darting over Dean’s face, taking in every nuance and tell.

“I told you once,” Cas says warily, a horrible foreboding coming over him, “I’m always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.”

“Happy to hear that, Cas,” Dean says, his face impassive, “because you’re gonna bleed a lot, not gonna lie.” He shoves the blade in Cas’s chest, right above his heart.

Cas staggers back from the blow, pain and shock radiating out from the bloodless wound.

Dean raises his eyebrows, his mouth curling into a mocking smile as Cas meets his smug face. “What, were you expecting to go poof? We’re in the Empty,” he throws its hands wide, “everyone’s in stasis here, including you.”

Cas yanks the blade out of his chest, but it - and Dean - turns into black goo before he can stab anything with it.

 * * *

The Empty doesn’t mimic Dean next. Instead it takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s. Every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven.

And there’s no escape. Cas can do his best not to listen, but if he retreats too far into himself, it almost counts as sleeping. With the Empty’s nudging, his thoughts will veer into his worst regrets, sooner or later. 

The Empty is in the middle of lecturing him in the form of Balthazar, when it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

“Come on,” he says roughly. He strides forward to grab Cas’s hand and tug him in the other direction. “That bomb doesn’t last forever.”

“Dean?”

“Who else?” Dean yanks him sharply to the left. “This place didn’t turn your brains to scrambled eggs, did it?”

“I don’t think so,” Cas says shakily. “Dean are you really...”

“What?”

Cas can’t help looking down at their clasped hands. A fleeting thing, barely more than a glance. Still, Dean drops Cas’s hand like it burned him. “You good to run?” he asks shortly.

Cas barely nods before Dean takes off. They hurtle through the Empty, their rapid footsteps impossibly silent. Dean’s breath comes in sharp pants, and Cas’s useless wings ache, not for the first time, to fly them to their destination.

“Dean,” Cas starts, and Dean slows. “Where are we going?”

“Where I left my stuff,” Dean says shortly. “The spell to get us out of here needs a shit-ton of crap, and I couldn’t haul it all over this goddamn place while I was trying to find you.”

“How did you know your way back?”

The corners of Dean’s mouth lift in a faint smile. He points to the floor. “M&Ms.”

Cas squints at the ground, and, sure enough, they are following a trail of tiny candies. “Ingenious,” he murmurs.

“Hey, it worked with a Wendigo,” Dean says, shrugging. He directs them in a few more twists and turns before Cas sees Dean's duffle bag in the distance, topped with a bright yellow bag of M&Ms.

As they get closer, Dean pulls out an angel blade from inside his jacket.

Cas balks. 

Dean shoots him a puzzled look as he hands it to him. “It won’t kill anything here, obviously,” he says, unzipping his bag. He pulls out a copper bowl and bundles of herbs, “But having a weapon’s never a bad idea in unknown dimensions.”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas surveils their inky surroundings, already on high alert for any trespassers.

“Watch my back, okay?” Dean glances over his shoulder. Various ingredients get dropped into the bowl with outsized clangs and dribbles that seem to echo in the void around them.

Cas stays vigilant.

“This was easier than I thought it would be,” Dean mutters as the bowl’s contents start to smoke.

“Don’t jinx it,” Cas mutters out of the side of his mouth.

Dean chuckles under his breath. “I didn’t think angels believed in jinxes.”

It’s not like Cas has been especially angelic these past few years. He says shortly, “I’ve found you can never be too careful.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Need your blood for this part,” he says, shuffling over to make room. “Wait,” Dean says before Cas can press the blade againt his skin.

“Yes?”

“This is the last step,” Dean says seriously. “Once your blood goes in, it’s liftoff. So I wanted to get a couple things straight before we’re back in the Bunker.”

Cas doesn’t need to breathe, but if he did, his breath would have hitched in his chest at the closed-off look on Dean’s face. “Of course.” 

“What you said - what you told me,” Dean starts, his voice hard, “before you got sucked to this hellscape.” He drops his gaze to the bowl cradled in his hands, “That’s not me.”

Cas presses his lips together, struggling to keep his face impassive. Once he regains control of himself he says, “I did not expect you to reciprocate when I told you about my feelings for you.”

Dean actively recoils at the mention of feelings. He gives the bowl a little toss, and a few of the contents spill onto the floor. “Just, forget it,” he says brusquely, gathering everything up again.

“Dean-”

He turns to Cas, his eyes blazing. “But - you know what? I can’t forget it.”

Cas opens his mouth, but Dean is not done.

“How could you offload all that shit on me right before you fucked off to parts unknown?” he demands, voice rising in anger and volume. “Of all the goddamn things you could have said to me - that takes the fucking cake. You were my best friend -” he breaks off, shaking his head. “Worst moment of my goddamn life.”

Cas takes a step back, a sickly horror trickling down his spine. “I didn’t think-”

But Dean’s not listening. “I had serious doubts about coming here at all,” he continues, and the last Dean had stabbed him in the chest - how is this so much worse? “But Sam gave me those goddamn puppy dog eyes, and don’t even get me started on Jack-”

“I understand,” Cas interrupts stiffly. He inhales a deep breath he doesn’t need and continues, “Once we return to the Bunker, I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Probably for the best,” Dean mutters.

Cas cuts his forearm, watching with perverse fascination as the blood wells up and drips into the bowl waiting below.

There’s a violent burst of light and sound.

In the aftermath, Cas can only make out Dean’s mocking laughter. Before Cas can say a word, it turns into Meg’s delighted giggles. And then Gabriel’s howls of mirth.

 * * *

Cas sleeps after getting deceived for the third time. Anything is better than seeing the smug face of the Empty, whether it’s wearing Dean’s face, Gadreel’s, or Ruby’s. 

He breaks the wall in Sam’s head.

He lets Lucifer possess him in a futile plan.

He beats Dean to a bloody mess for the Angel Tablet.

Occasionally, the Empty grants him release, and Cas gets to deliver a bad joke to Uriel in Mesopotamia or Dean calls him a baby in a trenchcoat in a diner.

Time passes. Cas has no idea how long. There’s no sun - no moon - no cycling of the heavens. Only emptiness.

He gets shaken awake.

Cas blinks up at a pair of very familiar green eyes. “Dean,” he says, more or less resigned.

“Jesus,” Dean says as he sits back on his heels, “Way to make a guy feel welcome. I’m here to save your sorry ass, in case you were wondering. A full week of tearing my hair out over how to get you outta here, and this is the thanks I get.”

Cas sits up. “My apologies,” he says tentatively as he studies Dean’s face. There’s no sign it isn’t really Dean.

Then again, none of the others showed signs either.

Cas gets to his feet, asking, “Are you alone?”

Dean glances around them warily. “Yeah, Sam and Jack are keeping the portal open in the Bunker. They wanted to come,” he says, his eyes raking over Cas’s face, drinking him in. “They’ll be over the fucking moon to see you again.”

Cas swallows. “And you?”

“I -” A dull flush comes over Dean’s cheeks. He looks away.

Cas’s face shutters. “Right,” he says as he stands in front of Dean. “Now what?”

“Hey,” Dean says, reaching out to grasp his left shoulder, a mirror of the mark Cas left on him so long ago and so recently. “I missed you too. You have to know that.”

Worst moment of my life.

Cas looks away, Dean’s own raised voice echoing in his head.

“Hey,” Dean says again, gentler this time. His green eyes bore into Cas’s face. “What’s going on in that celestial brain of yours?”

The words catch in Cas’s throat, a lump of embarrassment and fear keeping them there. Embarrassment that the Empty deceived him. Fear that the Empty was right.

“Look, I know we didn’t leave things on great terms,” Dean says awkwardly, “and maybe this isn’t the best place to talk about it, but I’m so fucking happy to see you, man.” He chuckles ruefully. “’S making me lose my goddamn mind.”

Even if it’s only a facsimile of Dean - and there’s no way to tell for certain - seeing his face not contorted in anger or mockery is like a balm on Cas’s soul. If he had one, that was.

“About what you said before you got taken-” Dean starts.

Cas’s heart sinks.

“No,” Dean says, his voice low and gentle, “listen to me. I get that happiness for you might just be in the being, but for me-”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Cas interrupts. “I meant that, truly. You don’t have to-”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean says, smiling slightly, “You’re not making this easy are you?”

Cas bites his tongue to keep from contradicting Dean again.

“As I was saying,” Dean continues pointedly, his green eyes shining, “For me, happiness isn’t in the being - whatever the hell that means. It’s in the goddamn having.”

Cas bites his tongue harder, the pain hardly registering against the burst of hope fluttering wildly in his chest. “Dean,” he forces out, “You can’t mean…”

“Cas,” Dean starts, and Cas’s heart breaks - or mends. He can’t tell. He has no idea who he is talking to, and it’s, to borrow a phrase from the real Dean, an epic mindfuck.  

“Cas,” the Dean standing in front of him repeats, and Cas’s gaze automatically draws back to his face, “Good things do happen.”

Cas chuckles wetly. He has no choice but to say, “Not in my experience.”

Dean takes a step closer, far into the personal space he’d shown Cas so many years ago. Brows drawing together, he raises a hand to cup Cas’s face. “Someone told me a while ago that having faith was important. Seems you’re a little short there, buddy.”

Cas tries to duck his head, but Dean won’t let him. Eventually, he admits, “My faith has been tested recently.”

“But you didn’t give up, right?” Dean asks, leaning in close enough that Cas can feel the warmth of his breath in the air between them.

Cas shakes his head minutely. “No,” he murmurs, “not entirely.”

“Good,” Dean says, pausing just shy of Cas’s mouth. Waiting.

Cas steels himself and closes distance.

Just before their lips touch, Dean implodes in a burst of inky ooze.

 * * *

Cas breaks several knuckles on the floor of the Empty. There are no walls to punch, no blade to send heads rolling. Cas works with what he has.

The real Dean would probably approve.

Dean shows up again before too long. This Dean goes so far as to tell Cas he loves him.

Cas turns his back on Dean’s heartbroken face. He refuses to engage.

He wanders instead.

* * * 

Cas hears the footsteps before he sees his next Dean.

“Cas!” he pants, “Thank fuck. I thought I was never going to find you.”

Cas merely sighs.

Dean makes a face. “Way to roll out the welcome wagon,” he says, clearly offended. “I would’ve thought you were sick of this place by now.”

Cas purses his lips. “I am.”

“Shocker,” Dean says with a little smile. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time, so you gotta follow me.”

Cas doesn’t budge. He’d rather roam this place for eternity than suffer at the hands of another Dean facsimile. And he had thought he saw enough of them under Naomi’s tutelage. He’d been so naive.

Dean stares at him like Cas just stripped naked and danced the macarena. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not real,” Cas says bluntly.

Dean gapes. “Of course I’m real! Chuck’s de-powered, and Jack… well, it’s a long story. Bottom line: nobody’s pulling our strings but us.”

Cas lets out a derisive laugh.

Dean’s eyebrows rise, but he barrels on, “So it’s time to get a move on. Up and at ‘em, sunshine.” He jerks his head off to the right. 

Cas stays where he is. “No.”

“What the hell?” Dean has the gall to tug on Cas’s sleeve like he’s a wayward toddler. “Come on. You’re not making any sense.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Cas retorts. It’s not his best rejoinder, but he’s been very stressed lately.

Whatever Dean was about to say dies on his tongue as he stares at Cas in confusion. “What’s wrong with you?” He shakes his head before Cas can respond, saying, “Doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out later. But now, you’ve gotta come with me.”

Cas levels him a flat glare. This one is more stubborn than the last, more like the real Dean. “Why should I?”

“Because you don’t deserve to be stuck here?” Dean says, gesturing to the void around them. “You saved the world, Cas.” He swallows. “You saved me. Getting you out is the least we can do.”

“Because you need me to take on Chuck,” Cas says.

“No?” Dean says, his eyes narrowing. “I already told you, Chuck’s off the playing board.”

“Because you feel guilty about leaving me here.”

“No - wait, I do, but,” Dean breaks off, irritated, “you know what I mean.”

Cas doesn’t, so he continues in the same vein as before, “Because you love me.”

Dean hesitates. “I’m working on it.”

Cas snorts. At least the last Dean had the balls to say it. Many times. While crying.

“What?” Dean throws up his hands. “You just sprung it on me, dude! I didn’t even know angels could feel things like that, and it took me by surprise, okay? I’m only human, and sometimes we need time to get used to ideas. Like when we found out Snooki was a demon. Yeah, the signs were there, and it makes sense, but still - you sometimes need it spelled out for you.”

Cas pauses. None of the other Deans had referenced pop culture. “How long ago was this for you?”

“Since we summoned Snooki?” 

At Cas’s icy look of disdain, Dean hedges, “A month? Give or take.” He glares. “First we had to deal with Chuck, and it took a while to find a spell to get here. Remember, we didn’t even know this was a place before you died the last time. The Men of Letters weren’t a shit ton of help, for once.”

Cas crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just… hear me out,” Dean says. “There’s a portal to get us home. Sam and Jack can’t stall the Empty forever.”

That was new. “Jack and Sam aren’t in the Bunker?”

“No,” Dean says as he takes off in the opposite direction, all but forcing Cas to follow to find out more. “They’re up in Heaven.”

“Why?”

“Because the Empty can’t get to Earth without a summoning spell, which, as far as we can tell, doesn’t exist?” Dean says, checking over his shoulder to make sure Cas is still within earshot. “But you made that fucking stupid deal in Heaven, so we knew it could at least travel there. Jack zapped Sam to the Pearly Gates, and they’re hopefully making a distraction while I get you out.”

Still not entirely convinced, Cas asks begrudgingly, “And where are we going?”

“A portal,” Dean says confidently. “This place is a little like Purgatory, apparently. If it senses a human here, it’ll create a portal to spit them out again.” He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “So here I am, 100% genuine human to bail your ass out.”

“Thank you?”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean says with a wink.

Cas scowls. The first Dean had winked at him too.

“Jesus, tough crowd,” Dean mutters as they head further into the Empty.

Cas scans the ground, but there are no small candies lining the way. “How do you know where to go?”

“Turns out, Sam could find a spell for that,” Dean says as he holds up his left hand - clutching his amulet. The Empty must have really hunted around in his memories for that one, even more so than the Wendigo case. He hasn’t seen the real amulet in nearly five years. “It heats up when I’m on the right track towards the exit.”

“So no M&Ms?”

Dean turns to him. “I told you about that?”

Cas stares straight ahead, willing his face to fall into an expressionless mask. The real Dean had told him about the Wendigo over dinner with Sam and Mary while she was still alive, or the Empty wouldn’t be able to use it as inspiration now.

Dean shakes his head, smiling. “Man, I haven’t thought about that case in forever.” He glances at Cas, his face sobering. “You really don’t believe this is real?”

“No.”

He can’t. Not again.

Dean sighs as he steers them slightly to the right. “Come on, I’m almost getting third degree burns from this thing. We must be close.”

Sure enough, a blue swirling portal comes into view, a pinprick of light in the distance at first, elongating into an exact replica of the Purgatory exit as they approach. 

“Finally,” Dean mutters, his face impassive. He  turns to Cas. “Just… don’t stay behind,” he grimaces, “again.”

This version has been the most true to Dean - less callous than the first, more caring than the second, more guarded than the third. It will hurt the most when this one falls apart. Maybe it would be better if Cas heads it off at the pass instead of letting the whole painstaking ruse play out all the way through.

If the Empty could get it over with, Cas will go back to sleep. Anything is better than this torture.

Cas takes a step back, away from the portal. “This is pointless-”

“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean throws his hands in the air. “I don’t get it at all. You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

Cas gapes at him.

Dean continues heatedly, “If an ex-demon with anger management problems and rap sheet a mile long deserved to be saved, I think a legit angel should get the same.”

Cas shakes his head. “I’m hardly a prime example of an angel anymore.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Have I ever cared about that?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Glad we can agree on something,” Dean cuts him off. “Now, are you going to go through the portal or am I gonna have to drag you? I’ll do it,” he threatens. “Don’t test me.”

Cas wavers. Everything in him says to follow Dean. But this isn’t the real Dean - this is the Empty waiting for the glorious moment when it can yank the illusion away, leaving Cas a little more broken than before.

Dean’s eyes narrow. “Fuck you,” he spits, “You can’t trust me just a little-”

“Trust?” Cas echoes as he strides forward to grab the lapels of Dean’s jacket, his voice rising in a mixture of outrage, desperation, and heartache, “You want me to trust you? After you’ve lied to me, deceived me - after you stabbed me, after you told me I put you through the worst moment of your life the last time you saw me, after you made me think you returned my feelings only to - only to-”

Dean shakes his head slowly. “But I didn’t do any of that.”

“You did,” Cas says fervently, shaking Dean a little - or maybe that’s his trembling hands. “You did - you’ve been putting me through hell since I got here, and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you.”

Dean’s expression hardens. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do,” Cas swears. “I’m done pretending.”

Dean his eyes flicking down to Cas’s mouth. “What do you know,” he breathes, “so am I.”

Cas freezes, waiting for Dean to dissolve into a puddle of goo in his hands.

Dean kisses him instead.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips to his, Cas jerks back in surprise and horror.

He falls straight into the portal. 

The Empty vanishes in a blur of too-bright light.

 * * *

Cas comes to in the middle of a field. The sun shines overhead. Noon, Cas registers distantly as he looks around. Dean’s sprawled on the prairie grasses next to him, already waking up judging by the groaning noises.

“Dean?”

Dean opens his eyes, glances at the sky, and closes them again. “Oh great, we made it.”

Cas tentatively picks his way closer to Dean’s side. He stands over him for a moment, shuffling to the side so he doesn’t block the sunlight falling on Dean’s face. “We’re on Earth.”

“Well, it’s sure as shit not Mars,” Dean grumbles, eyes still closed. “Are you watching me right now? I feel like you’re watching me right now.”

Cas stares around the field. “Not anymore,” he says, and a genuine breeze blows against his face. What a marvel.

“‘S okay,” Dean says as he wiggles a little on the grass, getting more comfortable, “’M used to it.”

Cas turns to him. “It’s really you.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean cracks his eyes open, one corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile. “You believe me now?”

“This could be the most elaborate ruse yet.”

Dean lifts his head up. “Seriously? You dick, I did not haul ass all the way-”

“I don’t really believe that, however,” Cas says before Dean can work himself up too much.

“Good.” He meaningfully thumps the grass next to him. “Sit. You’re giving me serious Law & Order vibes.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “I don’t get that reference. I know about Law & Order-”

“And how does every episode of Law & Order start?” Dean interrupts, “With someone standing over a dead body in a field.”

Cas takes a seat. “Not always a field. Most episodes show corpses in urban areas, or, once, a yacht.”

“Pretty sure it was more than once. I hate procedural cop shows.”

“They are very formulaic,” Cas admits, stretching out his legs, “and lack the drama of soap operas.”

“I’m just saying, if a long lost sibling doesn’t pop out of the woodwork or if the main character isn’t killed off at least six times, is it really worth watching?”

Cas levels him a flat look. “Dean, all those things have happened to you.”

Dean snorts. “At least none of us got amnesia.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Speak for yourself.”

Dean turns his head to stare at him, a wide grin spreading across his face as he laughs. “Oh shit, you're right. How the hell did I forget?”

“Because of supreme irony, most likely.”

It takes Dean a moment to get it, but when he does, he laughs even louder.

Cas doesn’t have anything to add, so he lets the conversation peter off into silence, listening to Dean’s even breathing and the grass rustling in the gentle wind.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Dean says in an undertone.

Cas turns to him. Dean’s eyes are closed again, but everything else about him radiates a quiet tension Cas might’ve missed anywhere else. But here, in this field, nothing prevents Cas from honing on Dean’s whole being with everything he has. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.

“I dunno,” Dean says, his face scrunching up, “I thought it would be more awkward. But… it doesn’t feel any different.”

Cas blinks. “Why should it?” he asks, and though he’s not definitively sure what Dean means by ‘it’, he has a very strong suspicion.

Dean shoots him a pointed look. “Because you don’t tell someone you love them and expect everything to be OK after.”

Cas lays down next to Dean. Staring up at the wispy clouds overhead, he says, “If it changes anything, I didn’t expect to be around for the after part.” Dean’s head turns to look at him, but Cas can’t bring himself to see whatever expression is on his face. “If you’d like for us to go our separate ways after this, I understand.”

“You stupid bastard,” Dean mutters vehemently, “for the last goddamn time, I did not piss off the immortal Blob just to tell you to go fuck yourself in person.”

Cas inhales a slow breath, breathing in the dirt, wildflowers growing nearby, and Dean. “You kissed me,” he says.

“You said you loved me,” Dean shoots back.

“Did you mean it?”

“Did you?”

Cas grimaces as he turns his head to face him. “I thought it was obvious.”

Dean swallows. “No, it wasn’t,” he says quietly, “but I’ve never been good at that stuff.”

Cas squints at him. “You are the most emotionally intelligent man I’ve ever met.”

“What?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You expertly navigate and manipulate people’s emotions to get them to talk to you, open up to you, have sex with you,” he lists. “It’s extraordinary to witness.”

Dean makes a choking noise. “Dude,” he says, which tells Cas absolutely nothing. A few more clouds pass by before Dean speaks again. “I guess the signs were there - with you. But I didn’t want to put them together.”

“Why not?”

Dean shrugs, his shoulders scraping almost inaudibly against the soil and grass stems. “Just didn’t.”

“Then that’s why I didn’t tell you. But, Dean-” Cas breaks off. This part of the conversation, despite what Dean said earlier, does not feel the same as others between them. 

Dean’s eyes flick to his. “Yeah?”

“You kissed me.”

Dean inhales a sharp breath. “I did,” he says at last.

Cas waits, but Dean doesn’t elaborate. “Was it just a ploy to get me to leave the Empty?”

“No.”

Cas grimaces. Not for the first time, his life would be so much easier if Dean could communicate without speaking in riddles or hiding every third word he wanted to say. “Dean...”

“I told you I’m working on it,” Dean says defensively.

Cas closes his eyes. “What does that mean?” he asks, his voice strained.

“It means I’m working on it,” Dean says shortly. But before Cas can press him further, he lets out an explosive sigh. “It means I don’t want to hear any more goodbyes from you. It means - it means that kiss wasn’t too bad, right?”

“I thought you were a fake version of yourself created to torture me for eternity,” Cas says flatly.

Dean props himself up on his elbows. “So all I’m hearing is there’s room for improvement.”

Cas rolls his eyes as Dean scoots closer, peering down at him. “I suppose that’s one way you could look at it.”

“Would you wanna... do something like that again?” Dean asks, his expression confident while his voice is anything but.

“Only if you want to,” Cas says seriously.

Dean licks his lips. He nods once, the movement stilted.

“Should I sit up?” Cas asks, frowning, as he half-lifts his head. “Or do you want to lay back down-”

“Cas,” Dean says impatiently, “it’s kissing we’re talking about here, not Twister.”

“I have played that game before.”

“Yeah, I remember now,” Dean says, a tentative smirk hiding in the corners of his mouth. “You ever do it naked?”

Cas frowns. “There was a strict policy against nudity in the psychiatric ward.”

Dean ducks his head, laughing silently. His forehead lands on Cas’s sternum, his breath warming Cas’s chest from the outside in.

“You were trying to say something arousing,” Cas says, a beat too late.

Dean shakes his head, grinning. “Something like that.”

“I would like to play naked Twister with you.”

Dean’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Glad to hear it,” he says as he leans over Cas. Cas goes a bit cross-eyed to keep him in view until Dean murmurs, “Relax. ‘S just me.”

In the instant before their lips meet, Cas half-expects the whole world around him to splatter apart in a tidal wave of black, otherworldly goo. But Dean is gloriously solid, gloriously human, as he cradles Cas’s half-raised head, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

The midday sun shines; the grass whispers in the wind; and Cas is saved.