#When an official title is picked out I will change the tags!

[reiderwriter]

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K

Part two!

After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC. 

That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future. 

You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field. 

It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe). 

She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.” 

You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all. 

The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat. 

Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab. 

-X-

The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.

“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.

“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?” 

“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly. 

“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder. 

It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes. 

She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things. 

You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused. 

Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen. 

As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general. 

It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies. 

“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face. 

“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day. 

It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.  

Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way. 

A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips.  When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping  his bag a little tighter to him. 

“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.” 

“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?” 

“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”

“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”

He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away. 

-X-

“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk. 

“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.” 

You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent. 

The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable. 

Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.

It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional. 

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.

He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence. 

“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.

“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”

“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading. 

“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time. 

“S-Spencer, I’m serious.”  He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him. 

“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”

Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply. 

“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away. 

But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.  

“She said I would what, beautiful?”

He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could. 

But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond. 

“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”

“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?” 

And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.

“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.

-X-

You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space. 

Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen. 

After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you. 

He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office. 

In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt. 

To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat. 

You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you  grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention. 

“Leaving so soon, princess?”

“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same. 

“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer. 

“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.” 

You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line? 

He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you. 

“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move. 

“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before. 

His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face. 

“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again. 

“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”

“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist,  and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now. 

“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat. 

He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed. 

He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?” 

You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove. 

“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now 

“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.  

“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.  

“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind. 

You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day. 

“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?”  You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him. 

“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands.  Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands. 

“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night. 

-X-

[m00nsbaby]

Already over.

Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.

Word count. 3.4k

Summary.

We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.

It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.

You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.

Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.

The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.

You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.

It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.

The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.

"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.

"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.

You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.

Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.

Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.

"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.

You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.

The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.

"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.

He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.

You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.

"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.

"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.

"It's a fraud."

"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.

"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."

Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.

"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."

Ah. That.

That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.

"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.

How much longer could you go on like this?

After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.

"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.

"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.

You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.

The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.

"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.

"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.

"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Steven."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.

The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.

Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.

"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.

He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.

The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.

Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.

"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.

"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."

You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.

"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.

"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.

He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.

He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.

You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.

"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.

Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.

You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.

When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.

"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted today."

"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.

"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.

Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.

"Can we talk?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.

Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.

"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."

Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.

"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.

"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.

"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.

Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.

"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.

You were all he had, and he was all you had.

Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.

"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.

"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"

"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.

"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.

You gasped.

"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.

There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.

"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.

He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.

Love at first sight.

"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."

You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.

You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.

After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.

"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.

The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.

"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."

"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."

"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.

"She knows."

Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Ah?"

"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.

"Knows what?"

"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.

Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.

You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.

"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"

"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.

"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.

"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."

Ouch.

"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.

And maybe, not lose Marc either.

"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.

"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.

He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.

"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.

"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"

A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.

"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."

And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.

His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.

"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?

You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.

This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.

You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.

sorry, i got tired of happy endings

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

[zepskies]

Midnight Espresso

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson. 

AN: The muse hit me hard on this one last night lol. I felt like "Midnight Espresso" was catchier than the working title, "Midnight Coffee Shots."

Thanks for the encouragement and inspo: @deanwinchesterswitch @iprobablyshipit91 @freewastelandstrawberry

Song Inspo: "2 Be Loved (Am I Ready)" by Lizzo

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, mutual pining, body insecurity, ass appreciation, supernatural shenanigans, naughty language, bad bitch o’clock and thicc thirty. 

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

When you spot the caller ID on your buzzing cell phone, you have to smile. You answer the call.

“Well if it isn’t Dean I need a favor Winchester,” you tease. You hear his genuine chuckle, deep and smooth in your car speakers. 

“Hey, sweetheart…” He hesitates, which makes your lips curve wryly. 

“Yeah, Dean? What’cha got?”

“I need a favor.”

You sigh dramatically. “So fucking predictable.”

“Sorry, but look. We really do need you…we’ve got a situation.”

“Oh, a situation? How specific,” you chuckle.

“All right, smartass,” he says, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. “Just listen…”

When he tells you the lowdown on the case he and Sam are on, you have to change directions—all the way to a dusty little town in the south of Texas.

There you find the brothers Winchester outside La Cantina Libre. 

You greet Sam first, stretching up to meet his hug. He’s friendly and warm when he rubs your back.

“Good to see you,” he says. 

“You too, lumberjack,” you reply, noting the new layer of scruff he’s sporting on his face. Sam gives a dry chuckle and rubs his bearded chin.

“I keep tellin’ him to shave that ferret off his face,” Dean remarks. You turn to him with a grin just as he pulls you in next. 

“Aw, he looks good,” you say, giving Sam an encouraging look behind Dean’s back. The taller Winchester sports a good-natured smile. 

But you revel a bit in Dean’s warmth when he holds you tight, then let out a little breath when he pulls away, grasping your arms.

“So do you,” he says with a wink. 

You roll your eyes and playfully hit his shoulder. “Right. Eight hours of cross-country grime really becomes me.”

But you can’t help blushing a little at his smirk. Always a fucking flirt.

You turn your head to the bar in front of you. 

“What’s the deal with this place?”

“The husband of one of the victims is inside,” Sam explains. 

According to the police report, his wife returned home from a night out with her friends three days ago. She sat down in the middle of the living room, on the ground. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t eat. 

When Hector Rivera brought his wife to the hospital, neither fluids or medication helped her sleep or retain any nutrients. The official cause of death was starvation and dehydration.

It was a baffling case, both for the doctors and the police, who never found any criminal evidence to support a murder investigation.

“Okay, have you talked to Hector?” you ask. Dean raises his brows at you.

“That’s where you come in,” he says. “The guy only speaks Spanish. Neither me or Sam got the chops to Duolingo our way through.”

You can certainly believe that of Dean, but you still make sure to tease Sam on your way inside the bar. He’d studied Latin in high school, but hadn’t bothered to take Spanish? 

“Definitely a white boy move,” you tease, which Sam accepts with a chuckle. 

But you realize that the guys really would’ve been at a loss here. Most of the bar patrons are Spanish-speaking Latinos (you are a mere stone’s throw from the border of Mexico, after all). 

You ask around for Hector and find him at the end of the bar, drinking alone. He’s early forties at most, dark hair, tan skin mere shades lighter than yours. He has three shots down in front of him, and he’s working on picking up his fourth. Sam and Dean trail after you as you slide into the stool next to Hector. 

“Señor Rivera,” you greet him in your native tongue and pull out your fabricated police badge. “Good evening.”

He glances at you, then your badge with furrowed brows. 

“What do you want?” he asks in Spanish, just a hint slurring. 

“I’m very sorry about your wife. I know you’ve already given your statement, but we’re looking further into the circumstances surrounding Nina’s death,” you explain. 

He perks up at that, his brown eyes briefly lighting with something other than cold, hard grief. 

“The doctors couldn’t explain it, he admits. “They couldn’t do a damn thing. I just don’t understand…”

He glares down at his hands, at the glass of liquor between them. He fights to control himself, but you can see it’s a losing battle. You rest a gentle hand on his arm, and when Hector meets your eyes, you know he’ll find genuine sympathy. 

“I want to help you,” you tell him. “At the very least, I can look for a real explanation on what happened to Nina. Can you tell me what you know?”

A moment later, he pats your hand on his arm. And he tells you.

Dean watches from his spot behind you while he and Sam blend in, each drinking a beer. Dean admires how easily you connect with people. How genuine you are in wanting to help them. 

He knows you’ve spent years in this job. Maybe not as long as him, but long enough to get jaded. You aren’t, and you care. 

Dean thinks it’s part of the reason why you always answer when he calls. You’ve never said no to him, always been there when he and Sam need you. And that, he somehow feels guilty about.

Because what the fuck has he really ever done for you, other than put you in danger?

“Dean,” Sam says, nudging his side. 

It brings Dean back to the present when he sees you’re getting up from the bar. Despite his inner conflict, he can’t help but notice the curve of your ample ass in those tight jeans. An enticing ratio of thick thighs to smaller waist, and generous cup size to match. 

But when you turn around, it’s your sad smile that grabs his attention. You draw near, and Dean forces himself to stay relaxed when your warm hand rests on his forearm. 

It’s a familiar, comfortable thing for you to be touchy. You’re an expressive person, always talking with your hands, full-body animated when you tell stories.

Sometimes you’ll grab his wrist playfully, or brush your hand along his back when you pass by. Or you’ll grab his shoulder to steady yourself, and lean into him when you’ve had too much to drink. 

Dean likes it—all of it. In fact, he finds it endearing as hell. 

But it’s also a problem. A unique kind of torture to keep himself in check around you… 

Frankly, he doesn’t think you know what your touch does to him. 

In fact, he knows you don’t, because while you’ve got your smooth, tan hand on his arm, you’re more looking at Sam when you say:

“I think I know what this is.”

“El Sombrerón,” you repeat yourself as you flip through a book on South American lore. 

“Shouldn’t you be an expert on this already?” Dean teases as you rifle through the pages. “I thought Latin American legends were right up your alley.”

The three of you are back at their delightfully crap motel of the week. You and Sam sit at the two-seater table while Dean leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

You shoot him a wry glance. “I’m Cuban, not Guatemalan. Though apparently, El Sombrerón appears in Mexican mythology as well.”

Hector said that the night his wife went to the bar with her friends, her friend Jennine saw a man with a black jacket and a hat to match. 

She said he flirted with Nina, a sweet but introverted soul. She turned him down, of course, but he tried to cajole her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and touch her cheek. That’s when Jennine stepped in and cursed the guy out, threatening to break his nose if he didn’t back off. 

They didn’t see him again that night, but you suspect the damage had been done the moment he touched her…

“All right, so he’s a boogeyman of sorts,” Sam says, gesturing at the vivid illustration in the book he’s holding. You peer over at the page and nod.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the cautionary tale. A man dressed in black, wide-brimmed hat—”

“Like Zorro,” Dean supplies. You give him an amused grin.

“No, not like Zorro,” you reply. “Instead of being a fine-ass caped crusader with a voice deep and gritty as sin, El Sombrerón likes to lure women into the woods.” 

Dean raises a brow at your description (Deep and gritty as sin, huh?), but you continue.

“Specifically, he’s got a fetish for long hair,” you recount. “Here it says El Sombrerón’s voice and touch are a curse, rendering his victims unable to eat or sleep. Eventually, they die.”

That falls between you all like hot lead. Until Sam voices the question you’re all thinking.

“So how do we find him?”

“For the record, I’m against this fucking idea,” Dean mutters to his brother. Once again, they’re patrons of La Cantina Libre, each nursing a beer. 

“Yeah, you’ve made that known a few times now,” Sam replies in a low whisper. “She’ll be okay, Dean. We’re right here for her.”

They’re just on standby, watching you ignore flirtations from men with a coy smile. You leave a delicate ring of red lipstick on your straw while you nurse a Tequila Sunrise. 

Dean subtly (to Sam, not so subtly) watches you. His elbow rests on the counter, chin in hand, hand over mouth, while his eyes roam down your simple black dress. Your ankles are crossed under the bar counter. The toe of your platform heel bouncing against the foot rail is the only thing telling Dean that you’re a bit nervous.

You’ve let your hair down on purpose, trying to entice the “Zorro” monster with the smooth waves running down your back.

On any other night, Dean might’ve enjoyed this place. He has a good beer in hand. There’s some live music tonight, in the form of a man playing a shiny silver guitar, crooning into the mic. You turn your head to watch for a moment, and Dean sees the way your gaze sharpens on the musician. 

The man wears a black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, tucked neatly into his dark wash jeans. His black hair is long and a little wild, almost brushing his shoulders. While he holds out a smooth note, he looks up and finds your gaze. His lips curve on a smile.

Your face heats up at the attention, but you find yourself captivated by those eyes. They’re intense, almost black under the stage lights. And as the musician’s song comes to a close, you feel a trill of something run down your spine when he sets down his silver guitar. 

Then he makes his way toward you.

He settles into the free seat next to you and orders two tequila shots.

“I have a drink, thanks,” you say. The man only smiles. 

“You’ve been holding onto that Sunrise for two hours,” he says. “I just thought you might like something stronger, before the sun actually comes up.”

Inside, you want to roll your eyes at the cheesy line.

Instead, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and his gaze is drawn to the motion. You notice it with mounting suspicion. 

“Maybe I do,” you reply. “What’s your name?”

“Miguel,” he says, offering a charming smile. “And yours, amor?”

You consider him with flirtatious eyes and a tilt of your head. You’re fairly certain you have your target.

You lay a hand on his arm, over his jacket. You lean in close enough to whisper in his ear. 

“Do you really need my name?” you ask in Spanish. 

Miguel smirks when you lean back. He offers you his hand to help you off of your stool. Wary of actually touching his skin to yours, you try your best to be graceful and sensuous as you slide out of your seat and onto your heels without his help. You then walk out of the bar through the back without waiting for him to follow you (hoping that he does).

Your instincts are right, however. When you make it out of the bar, Miguel is indeed closing in behind you. You glance over your shoulder, offering a coy smile. But when you look ahead, you have to utter a gasp. 

Miguel is suddenly there to grab you and pull you in by your waist. 

“When will your friends be joining us?” he asks, trailing a finger down your cheek. It makes you shudder, but you pretend to be confused.

“Friends?”

“Dumb and dumber, watching you like a hawk,” he says, raising a brow. “Oh, mi amor. I know a pack of hunters when I see them.”

Sam and Dean watch the musician run back for his guitar, slipping it carefully in its case before he takes off after you. 

“Get the guitar. Got a feeling about that thing,” Dean says to Sam. “I’ll follow ‘em.”

The moment Dean walks out the back of the bar, he stops short and draws his gun. His body tenses and his face falls into a glare when he sees Miguel holding you close (and against your will). But Miguel catches sight of Dean.

He forcefully turns you around and wraps an arm across your chest, pulling you back as you struggle. 

“Good evening,” Miguel greets with a smirk. He nods at the full moon. “Beautiful night for a lover’s serenade.”

His voice alone is a threat, Dean knows. And by the way your eyes widen, so do you. 

“Shut the fuck up, Mike,” Dean snarks. “Mind if I call you Mike?”

He raises his gun, but Miguel tsks at him. You grit your teeth as he pulls your hair back away from your cheek. His breath is hot an unpleasant in your ear, causing you to shudder.

“I do wish we had more time, amor,” he says, trailing a hand down your ass and thigh. “I like to play with my food.”

A hot lance of anger runs through Dean, but it runs even hotter through you, igniting your temper and making your patience run right the fuck out. You snap your head back and catch Miguel in the nose. He wrenches back with a pained cry.

You try to ignore the resulting ache in your head and reach for the silver knife in your thigh holster, beneath your dress. But Miguel grabs you by the hair. Suddenly his face has become grotesque, revealing its true form with a mouth filled with sharp, needle-like teeth.

You gasp as a trill of magic runs through your body from his touch. It paralyzes you as he wrenches your neck back and prepares to bite a chunk right out of your neck. 

But Dean shoots a warning shot by the creature’s head, all-too close to yours as he approaches. 

“Hey!” Sam calls out. He attracts everyone’s attention, even Miguel’s. Sam holds the silver guitar. 

“This is what you use to play Pied Piper, right?” Sam asks. Miguel’s face hardens, but before he can do anything about it, Sam smashes the guitar to smithereens on the gravel road. 

Miguel lets out an outraged hiss. While he’s distracted, Dean takes another shot that hits the creature in the shoulder. It gives you the opening you need to grab your knife and stab him in the leg.

Miguel cries out in pain, but before you can scramble away, he grabs your face. His sharpened nails bite into your skin, making you wince. You manage to kick out his knee. It forces him to release you, unless he wants to eat the ground hard. 

Sam is there to catch you while Dean closes in. He shoots, the creature evades, grabbing Dean’s wrist and punching him across the face. The hunter goes down to the gravel with hands held out to brace himself. But he has a large knife on his belt that he retrieves next, only to be knocked out of his hand when Miguel bears on him. 

He throws off Sam’s attempt to pull him off Dean, throwing him hard against the dumpster in the alley. 

While Dean grapples bare-handed with the monster, trying his best to evade gnashing teeth in his face, you find his discarded knife and bury it deep into Miguel’s back. 

He howls with pain and tries to throw you off. He manages to backhand you in the face and shove you away. You nearly roll an ankle on the small rocks rolling under your heels, and you end up on your back with the wind knocked out of you. 

But Dean’s able to kick Miguel off and finish what you started. Dean pins the man on the ground and twists the knife deeper. And he doesn’t let go until the creature below him stops twitching. 

Dean takes in deep breaths to account for the way adrenaline has set his blood pumping. He still sits on the ground with the body next to him. But then, he finds you kneeling next to him in your now dusty dress. Your eyes are worried when you grasp his shoulder and lay another hand lightly on his scuffed knee. 

Dean reaches for you on reflex, grabbing your arm. Both of you manage to ask your burning questions at the same time—

“You okay?”

“Are you all right?”

You crack first with a giggle. Dean quirks a grin and thumbs at your cheek. 

“Yeah, all good,” he says. 

Your relieved smile reaches your eyes, and it warms him. “Good.”

Behind you both, Sam hides his own knowing smile.

Sam and Dean invite you to stay over at the bunker after the hunt, instead of making the even longer drive home. You’re too exhausted to say no.

By the time you get to the bunker, you’re dead on your feet, practically swaying down the stairs. 

“I’m so fuckin’ tiiiired…”

“Come on, stop whining,” Dean teases as he helps you down. Sam has dropped your duffel bag on the ground floor and gone on ahead to shower, leaving you and Dean to figure this out. 

“Why don’t you just take off the heels?” he wryly suggests.

“Hell no,” you refuse with a stubborn shake of your head.

You don’t want to contemplate how much monster guts have glossed the stairs of this bunker, via the brothers’ boots. 

Maybe it’s a silly reason to suffer, but is it really suffering if you have Dean Winchester escorting you with both hands down the stairs? 

His hands are warm and you trust the strength of his hold, but when your heel wobbles on the edge of a step, you still go for the railing rather than sink all your weight on Dean. He laughs at you, and you maturely stick out a tongue at him. 

“At this point, it’d be faster if I freakin’ carried you,” Dean remarks. He reaches for you, but you stop him with a heel in his sternum.

“Eh-eh! Don’t even try,” you laugh. “I totally got this.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but you lower your heeled foot and manage to climb down the last few steps of the rickety staircase…at least, what your exhausted brain thinks is the last one. 

You almost go ass over tea kettle when you miss the final stair with a yelp—but Dean is there to catch you. 

His arms are like steel bands around your frame, curving around your lower back and pulling you flush against his chest. You gasp and cling to his arms. When you look up at him with wide eyes, you find his amused face…and maybe something else in his eyes. He tilts his head down at you. 

“Well, well. Look who keeps falling for me?” he remarks. 

You blush at the flirtatious edge of his tone. The gleam in his green eyes; you take it for amusement only, not realizing that he’s barely resisting the urge to claim your lips. 

“Right,” you laugh him off with a pat on his chest. “When was the first time again?”

You make sure your heels are firmly on the ground before you push away from Dean. As you thought, he doesn’t try to keep you. He still looks amused as he lets you go.

He flirts with anything, you remind yourself, when disappointment starts to carve a hole in your heart. Don’t take it so seriously.

You say goodnight before you take up your duffel bag and go to find a free bedroom (and a hot shower). All the while, you bite your lip against a deep-seated feeling of uncertainty.

Dean watches you go, and you don’t see the way his mask of a smile fades into a frown. 

After a nice hot shower and changing into your pajamas, that moment with Dean has unsettled you enough that you're not quite ready to go to sleep. Maybe you’re in the mood for a midnight snack. 

You take out a couple of supplies from your bag and head over to the kitchen. There you set up your little cafetera coffee press with water, and a generous few tablespoons of Café Bustelo grounds of espresso. While that brews on the stove, you make some popcorn in the microwave. 

You don’t realize that the rich smell reaches Dean all the way in his room. He sniffs the air in interest, then in confusion. 

She’s making coffee at midnight? 

He gets up out of bed and pads down to the kitchen where you’ve taken over. A large bowl of popcorn is ready and waiting for him to snatch a handful, while you’re checking the little metal carafe you have going on the stove. 

“What’cha up to, sweetheart?” he asks. You greet him with a smile. 

“Café con leche,” you reply. 

Coffee with milk, he mentally translates. That much, he can work out. 

“You drink coffee at this time of night?” he asks. 

“My people invented it. I’ve been inoculated to this stuff since I was eight years old,” you quip. “Want some? Believe me, you’ll love it.”

He shrugs. “Sure. But if I end up too wired to fucking sleep, be prepared to suffer with me.”

You laugh. “I’m sure we’ll figure out something to do.”

Dean’s not sure if you meant that as flirtatious as it sounded. But by your briefly widening eyes and blushing cheeks, maybe you just realized it. He smirks and draws closer while you break out two mugs from the cabinet. 

He notices your chosen pajamas with secret appreciation (a large threadbare Journey shirt over spandex shorts). You fill the little shorts out well. 

Though Dean spots several small holes in the shirt. He teasingly sticks his finger through one in your short sleeve. 

“Lose a fight with a pair of scissors?” he jokes. 

You shoot him an amused glance over your shoulder.

“You are the reigning king of dad jokes. I’ll have you know, this is my lucky shirt.”

He snorts in response. “What makes it lucky?”

You just bite your lip and focus back on your task at hand. With the coffee done percolating, you measure out two steaming shots of espresso into each mug. 

“Hey, you brought it up,” Dean reminds you. 

You sigh, and after you pour in the sugar and the evaporated milk into each mug, you turn around and lean against the counter. 

“I’ve never had a bad dream while wearing this shirt to bed,” you confess. His teasing gentles at that. 

When you turn back around to put the finishing touches on what you’re doing, Dean’s expression becomes more fond as he watches you. 

You then offer him his Batman mug with a brighter smile. 

“Buen provecho,” you say.

“What does that mean?” he asks predictably, taking the mug from you. 

“Enjoy! Like bon appetite, basically.”

“Ah,” he raises his brows before he takes a sip. Then they raise even higher as he hums in pleasure. “Ooh, it’s sweet…and strong. Shit.”

“Very,” you say with a chuckle, taking your own sip. You make a sound of delight, complete with a little “happy dance” shimmy. “Almost as good as my grandma makes it.”

Dean smiles in amusement at your antics. The two of you sit at the kitchen island, where there are three stools and the bowl of popcorn. The salty snack is just the right balance for the sweet coffee.

“She taught you how to make this?” he asks. 

You nod. “Yep! She’s an amazing cook too. Learned everything I know from her.”

“Hmm, might need to sample something of yours sometime,” Dean says, peering at you over his mug. His tone is deceptively light, but you read the double meaning in his eyes.

You hide the way your mouth falls open behind your own mug. Instead of answering, you nod and take a delicate sip. Your gaze veers away from his as you blush.

He’s in a good mood tonight, you think in bemusement. 

“So tell me. What are the best curse words in Spanish?” Dean asks. 

You have to laugh. Your head ducks as you reach for his arm. His eyes briefly go to your hand, and he smirks. 

“Of course that’s the first thing you want to know,” you tease. You take back your hand and think about his question. “Hmm…I mean, there are the basics. Coño, carajo. Like 'damn it,' 'fucking hell,' and so forth.”

“Come on, you can do better than that,” Dean says. 

“Well, yeah,” you say with a grin. “Comemierda is a Cuban fan favorite.”

“Which means?”

“Literally? Someone who eats shit,” you laugh. “A stupid asshole, basically.”

Dean’s grin deepens. “Nice.”

“The best one of all time is probably…ugh, my mom would wash my mouth out with soap for even saying it.” You cover your face with both hands, but Dean nudges your elbow. 

“Come on, give it to me,” he teases. You peek out at him from between your hands. Then you stage whisper to him.

“Hijo de la gran puta,” you say. It rolls off your tongue in such a way that, even though Dean knows it’s vulgar in some way, the ease in which you say it raises the hairs on his arms. 

“I like that,” he says. 

You giggle at him. “You don’t even know what the fuck it means.”

“Don’t matter. I just like how it sounds,” he says. “Gimme the Google Translate.”

You shoot him a narrowed look for that one. “It means son of the grand whore. Literally, the chiefest of them all. The grand poohbah of whores.” 

Dean splutters with laughter. His hand slaps the table, and you shush him, reminding him that Sam is probably sleeping by now.

“It’s literally one of the worst things you can say to somebody,” you say, though you’re also choking on laughter. By the end of it, you and Dean are chortling like fools and getting high on espresso and sugar. 

You teach him how to roll his r’s, and at his request, more slang. You explain how certain Hispanics and Latino cultures use different words for the same thing (at times, very confusing), and how something innocent to an American, like a papaya fruit, means something very different for Cubans. 

For Dean’s part, he’s genuinely interested in what you have to teach him. But he also just likes hearing you speak the language. It rolls off your tongue gracefully, effortless and sensuous without you meaning to. He likes it enough that he tells you his honest thoughts.

“It all sounds incredibly hot, I’m not gonna lie,” he says with a chuckle. You blush at that, something he finds endearing. 

“You sound like my ex,” you say in amusement. “He only went out with me to help him with his Spanish.”

Dean sobers a bit at that. “What?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle dryly. “He was trying to land some job as a strip club bouncer, but we were in Miami at the time. They needed someone bilingual.”

Dean doesn’t like the resigned tone of your voice. 

“Yeah well, the bouncer?” he remarks, trying for a teasing bump of his hand against yours. “Come on. You should at least be aiming for the owner.”

You flash him a brief smile and nod. “Ah, so I set my sights too low. Got it.”

It’s then that Dean starts to wonder about the kinds of guys you’ve gotten with in the past. Not that he has room to judge, but he can see that there was no love lost there for you. 

Dean has a thought, deep in his bones, that you deserve someone who sees how special you are. How kind, funny, loyal, caring…

“Seriously,” Dean says. “You can do better.”

“Right,” you laugh. But he’s not laughing. You raise a brow at him.

“What?” you ask.

His lips purse, but he thinks better of what he wants to say. 

“Nothing. ‘S none of my business,” he says. 

You stare back at him and frown thoughtfully. You think you’re lucky to get a date, the way you constantly move around. 

You don’t have stability, and even though you try to keep in shape, try to avoid the shittier fast food, it’s been a challenge to maintain yourself. You worry that you’ve gained five pounds in diner food alone in the past couple of months…

Okay, mostly, you’re happy with your curves. But the way Dean’s looking at you now, you can’t help a flutter of hope that rises in your chest, making your heart beat faster.  

Maybe you’re finally ready to know how he really sees you. 

“Talk to me, Dean,” you nod, and you reach out a hand to grasp his wrist. 

He looks down at your hand. After a moment, he sighs and lays his own over yours. He meets your gaze. 

“Look, I think I hear what you’re not saying,” Dean says. “And you’re sellin’ yourself short, sweetheart. That’s all.”

It takes you a moment, but a soft smile spreads across your face. It warms him in a way he doesn’t expect, but maybe he should. 

Biting your lip with a bit of embarrassment, you squeeze his hand before you get up to take the two empty mugs with you to the sink. 

“Que hombre tan pendejo, hermoso,” you mutter. “Ni siquiera sabes lo que me haces.”

You don’t realize that Dean actually hears you. He perks up, standing from his seat and approaching you from behind. 

“What was that?” he asks. 

You jump slightly, and a blush burns down your neck as you turn off the sink and spin back around. Dean is there, crossing his arms and staring you down with a raised brow. A hint of a smirk begins to edge around his mouth.

“What?” you ask.

“Oh, no. You said something just now,” he says. Like a dog with a bone, he’s not going to let this one go.

Your lips threaten to smile, but you shake your head stubbornly. “You’ll just have to invest in that Duolingo subscription.”

Dean joins you by the sink. His hand braces on the kitchen counter. 

“Well, either you’re insulting me, or you’re flirting with me,” Dean says.

His lips then edge into a smirk. “The first one I could forgive, but the second…might require some retribution.”

Your eyes slowly widen. “What, why?”

Dean has to chuckle, because your expression is all but an admission of guilt. It’s too damn adorable. 

“Because you can’t flirt with me without me knowin’ about it,” he says. “That’s just rude.”

His hands brace the counter on either side of you, trapping you in. The only way to get through him is to tell him the truth, or suffer the consequences.

You gaze up at him with wide eyes and a full flush across your tan skin. Is he actually doing this right now?

Your heart beats loud in your ears like conga drums. 

“So which is it, sweetheart?” Dean asks. His playful, but singularly focused green-eyed gaze tells you he really does want an answer.

“Well, it was kinda both,” you say with a shy, but mischievous smile. Dean’s smirk deepens.

He tucks a finger beneath your chin and lets his thumb brush your full lower lip… 

Then he leans down to kiss you thoroughly. His plush lips move over yours, hot, wet, and sinfully good. 

But it’s also short—much too short for your liking when he parts from you to gauge your reaction. He seems to like what he finds in your eyes.

“Was that the punishment?” you tease. “Kinda weak.”

Dean raises a brow. “Consider it a start.”

He pulls you into him by your waist and continues where he left off, with another searing kiss. You hum with pleasure against his lips as your fingers delve into his hair. 

His hands move down your back, making a shiver of delight coarse through you. They land on cradling your ass, squeezing and pressing you into him. 

You gasp into his mouth. You can feel his length already hard against you. That alone trills anticipation down your spine, and a dizzy feeling, the fact that your touch is turning him on. You nip at his lower lip in response, licking into his mouth. It elicits a sound deep in his throat as his touch becomes more demanding. 

He then bends down to reach behind your thighs, and before you know what’s happening, you squeal when he lifts you up on the counter. 

You grab his shoulders like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

Damn, he’s strong!

“What’s the matter?” he laughs. 

“I’m just not used to being manhandled,” you quip. “These hips don’t lie, but they definitely don’t fly.” 

Dean snorts. “Says who?”

“My ex, for one thing,” you joke again. Though it isn’t actually a joke.

Dean, again, isn’t laughing. 

His hands aren’t large enough to span your thighs, but it’s not for lack of trying. His firm touch burning up your parted thighs is distracting, warm over your skin, and over your thin shorts. His thumbs dip between your inner thighs, making you breathe a bit more shallowly. 

“I get the feeling that you’ve been with some ain’t shit guys,” Dean says. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t lump me in with the rest of ‘em.”

Your eyes widen. Dean grins down at you and takes the opportunity to kiss you again. His hand disappears in your hair and he presses kisses down your neck. A pleasant tingle breaks out across your skin as you tilt your head for him, giving him access. 

Your fingers begin toying with his collar and glide down his chest. Unlike you, everything about him is firm, you think. But you start to think that he likes your softness, the thickness of your curves.

You didn’t take him for an ass man, but he seems very happy to get a fistful of it. It’s as flattering as it is arousing.

“I’ve wanted to get this perfect ass in my hands since the day we met,” he says. His voice is deep, full of grit and desire, but what he says next surprises you even more. 

“Wanted to ask you out that night,” he confesses. 

You pause at that. You met Sam and Dean two years ago already. The fact that he’d wanted to ask you out was one thing, but he’d been holding onto this for two years?

“Really?” you ask. 

Dean reads your incredulity, huffing a laugh. “You’re really finding that hard to believe right now?” 

He rocks against your clothed core so you can feel his reaction to you. You instinctively gasp and hold onto him. You slide your arms around his back to keep him close, even though you’re blushing. He holds you back, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“Well, why didn’t you then?” you ask. But he hesitates to answer you. 

“Dean?” you press.

“It…never seemed the right time,” he says. “And to be honest, you didn’t seem all that interested.”

Until now, goes unspoken. But you frown up at him. 

“You don’t really believe that,” you say. 

Dean leans back a bit, so you move your hands to his chest, gripping the fabric of his undershirt to he doesn’t go too far. He looks down at you, a bit uncertain for the first time. You can’t believe that he could possibly be insecure about your interest and affections. 

“I attract a lot of crap in my life,” he admits. “Shit you want no part of.”

You soften further at that. Someone who was just going to hook up with you once and never call you again didn’t consider things like that. You grab onto the lapels of his plaid shirt and press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Well, that’s a stupid reason,” you say. Is this the real reason he only calls you when he really needs the help?

Maybe it’s his convoluted way of protecting you…while maybe, still wanting to see you.

“It’s really not,” Dean shakes his head. “Truth be told…I’m no good for you either.”

That disheartens you. 

You’re in this job too. And while you know that Sam and Dean are often at the center of a lot of Apocalypse-level shit, you still don’t think it’s an excuse to keep both you and Dean from possibly…being happy.

His gaze is steady, until it starts to lower away from you. You take his face in your hands, picking him back up to meet your eyes. Your thumbs caress the prickly stubble along his cheeks.

“Apparently I get with a lot of ain’t shit guys,” you reply, “but you’re definitely not one of them, Dean.”

He flickers at a smile, but he still isn’t convinced you two should do this after all.

So it’s up to you, you realize. 

You bring him down to you for a kiss. It’s slow at first. You ply him with short, sweet presses of your lips to his. But then you both inhale as you deepen the kiss, tilting your head and prying his lips with your tongue. He can’t help but welcome you in, and he takes you back into his arms.

You smile against his lips, letting your hands run down his chest and under the top layer of plaid. He shrugs out of it, then the undershirt as you help him tug it up. It falls in a heap on the floor, followed closely by your hole-ridden Journey shirt, then your little shorts.

Dean takes in the sight of your flushed skin, the rise and fall of your breasts, and even the hesitant downturn of your lips. You’re a bit self-conscious, bared for him for the first time, but he doesn’t give you a reason to have any reservations. 

His hands cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading, rolling his thumbs over the hardening buds. You let out a shaky breath against his lips, and you veer away from his mouth to burn a hot, wet trail down his neck. His voice rumbles, and you smile, nipping playfully and touching him wherever you see fit. 

“Tell me what you said before,” he rasps into your ear.

You remain playfully tight-lipped as you continue to shower his bare skin with affection. But your breath hitches when a hand leaves your breast to once again slide up the inside of your thigh. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” he says. “That’s why I need you tell me…”

You lean close to his ear and whisper. “Nope.”

Dean’s chuckle shakes his frame. His other hand cups your cheek, slipping into your hair. You hold him to you, and for the first time it’s skin to skin, with your breasts pressing against his chest. 

“All right…you sure I can’t convince you?” he asks. There’s a note of warning that you’re just a bit too slow to detect. 

His fingers swiftly bypass your panties, pushing them aside so he can tease the seam of your pussy.

You bite your lip and lean back enough to see his face, to see the mischievous edge of his smirk. You inhale sharply when two of his fingers slip in and probe in your wet heat, but don’t go further than your entrance.

“Dean,” you whine. “Please…”

“Tell me,” he insists, “what you said.” 

His lips graze your cheek, down the column of your neck. You feel the rasp of his stubble against your skin. Meanwhile, your pussy is pulsing with need, all but chasing his fingers that do no more than brush and tease. Your nails accidently bite into his shoulders in frustration.

He sucks in a pained breath. You gasp and apologize, soothing over his skin. 

Dean just laughs and noses along your throat. He knows exactly what you need, but he wants to win the game. 

At this point, you just want him.

So finally, you admit it. You confess into his ear the things you whispered in your mother tongue.  

“I said, you dumb, beautiful man,” you say, smiling with your cheek pressed against his. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Dean grins into your neck. You really don’t realize it. But to him, your voice is rich as black velvet, and sexy as hell. Doesn’t matter what language you’re speaking.  

Two of his fingers sink deeply into your pussy. You whimper, squeezing gratefully around his hand. 

“Please, Dean…”

“I got you, baby. Just relax,” he says with a grin. 

He explores your inner channel and begins to discover what you respond to, what angles make you grip onto him tighter, make your voice keen higher, especially when his thumb circles over your clit. 

You cling to him for dear life, gripping his hair, uttering encouragements (not all of them in English), and finally praises when that hot coil within you snaps and releases. 

Dean holds you while you come over his hand. You’re squeezing the shit out of him, really, in every way possible. But when that dam breaks, all you can do is lean against him and try to catch your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he chuckles. He rubs your back, pets your hair. 

“I’m…” you trail. You lean back and take his smug face in your hands, and you kiss him. You put into that gesture what your voice fails to confess. 

And when both of you run out of breath, Dean pulls back just enough to see your eyes.

“We’re not done, by any damn means,” he says. That coffee still has him wired. And at this point, his cock is throbbing with need. “But let’s head over to my room.”

“Yeah, I think I need to help you with this before you implode,” you tease him with a gentle hand along his rock-hard length. He utters a strained sound that makes you sympathetic. 

But before anything else, you caress his cheek fondly. Tonight matters to you, and you think it matters to him too. Dean flashes you a rare, boyish grin that has you smiling even harder. 

Damn it. You might just love this man. 

He helps you down from the counter, though his arms stay wrapped around you because of your jelly legs. His resolution is to pick you up over his shoulder.

“Let’s fly, baby!” With a swift spank of your ass, he carries you the rest of the way to his room. You squeal and try to stifle your giggles all the way there. 

One thing’s for sure. Sam is going to hate you both in the morning. 

AN: 😂 Well, that was fun! Please let me know what you thought.

**Just to preface, I am in fact a plus-sized Latina (Cuban, Puerto Rican and Dominican)! 🌶️🌶️

And I just want to say, I wrote a specific plus-sized body type here, but we're all different and equally beautiful in our shapes, skin tones, and otherwise outward trappings.

I like to think of us as a box of lovely assorted chocolates (not the cheap factory-made bullshit either. The chocolatier, handmade assortments that cost an arm and a leg, shipping not included).

Each delectable and unique, with something extra special inside. 😘

Keep Reading:

Yes, this has become a series! Next up is Touch Me:

Summary: Dean isn’t used to how “touchy” you can be, but he never said he didn’t like it.

▶️ Next Story: Touch Me

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Dean Winchester Masterlist

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Tag List:

@sleepyqueerenergy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @skyesthebomb @mimaria420 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @teehxk @hobby27 @luvs4dria

[haddonfieldwhore]

safe and sound - jeff hardy

2000s!jeff hardy x fem! reader (requested)

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none i think, fluff, ended up mostly gender neutral except for a few pet names

november 8th 2001:

you were standing ringside as your two best friends, lita and jeff, took on lance storm and ivory in a mixed tag team match. originally, matt was supposed to be out here with lita, but he ended up in an intercontinental championship match instead, leaving her without a tag partner, until jeff stepped up. lita and jeff were both amazing to watch, but it stressed you out just how easily they threw themselves off the top ropes and around the ring. you hadn’t been wrestling as long as they had, and you were still in awe everytime you got to see them in action up close.

jeff jumped over the top rope, taking out lance as lita slammed ivory down in the centre of the ring. the redhead climbed up to the top rope and hit a perfect litasault, pinning ivory to win the match for her and jeff.

jeff, who was still outside the ring next to you hugged you and spun you around, before lita pulled him into the ring for the official to raise their arms as the winners. the three of you heading up the ramp and backstage. the three of you hugged to celebrate the victory, and you and lita went to your shared dressing room so you could get changed.

“you were incredible! you and jeff make a really good team, ya know,” you smiled, as she grabbed an outfit from her suitcase and began getting changed.

“thanks. you guys would make a better team though,” she replied.

“i doubt it. i’m nowhere near as good as you.”

“that’s not true. but even if it was, you and jeff have this… insane chemistry that i don’t have with him. you understand eachother in a way i’ve never seen before,” she said as she finished getting dressed. you and the hardy’s had been friends for years, and while you also considered lita to be your best friend, you and jeff did have a special bond; a closer connection than you’d ever had with anyone.

“maybe. but you guys work great together regardless. i don’t think i could do some of those moves you did tonight.” you knew that you weren’t on the same level as lita, and you were okay with that.

“yeah, but you and jeff are really on the same wavelength. maybe one day it’ll be you two against me and matt. that would be fun,” she laughed, grabbing her bag and getting ready to leave the venue.

“that would be amazing,” you agreed.

“that is, if matt actually showed up,” lita added, still a little upset that he had not been the one in the tag match with her tonight.

“are you guys okay?” you asked, concerned.

“yeah, we’re great. it was a title opportunity for him; i can’t really blame him for taking it.” you nodded in agreement.

you picked up your own bag, following lita out of the dressing room, and heading back to the hotel.

•••

you and lita were watching tv in your hotel room, when she received a call from matt.

“right now? oh- okay,” she laughed. “i’ll meet you downstairs in a minute i just have to get dressed,” she spoke into her cell phone. “yeah i’ll ask them. okay see you soon.” she hung up the phone and stood up off the bed, and you looked at her expectantly.

“matt and i are going out for drinks or to the club…i don’t know he didn’t specify. you’re coming too, and jeff,” she explained, sliding her shoes on and checking her appearance in the mirror.

“lita, you know i hate the club -“

“i said i don’t know if we’re going there, matt just said out. it’ll be fun, pleaseee,” she begged, pouting and tugging at your arm to get you up off the bed.

“okay fine, but only if jeff’s going. i’m not third wheeling with you and matt again,” you laughed, recalling the last time you went out with just the two of them, and you had felt like a buzzkill the whole time.

“fine, go get him. matt left their extra key card here for me, the room numbers on it.” she sighed, grabbing her purse and putting her shoes on. “meet us downstairs in a few minutes.” you nodded, quickly fixing your appearance as you hadn’t been planning on going anywhere, before leaving the room to go find jeff.

you got to his room after a few turns down the hallway, and knocked on the door.

“who is it?” you heard jeff’s voice from in the room.

“hey, it’s me. lita gave me the key card; can i come in?” you called.

“yeah, o’course,” he replied, and you swiped the key, letting yourself in. “what’s up?” he asked, sitting up in his bed as you walked into the room.

“matt and lita want us to go out - i told her i would only go if you do.”

“where are they goin?” he asked, looking uninterested in the idea of going anywhere. he was wearing a black tank top that was tight to his torso, and some black track shorts that you could see as the blanket had gathered around his waist when he sat up.

“i don’t know, lita wasn’t sure. i guess matt didn’t say,” you answered. “they’re waiting in the lobby.”

jeff groaned as he flopped backwards to lay down again, his eyes closed. you laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him and gently shaking his shoulders.

“c’mon, j.”

“do you really wanna go? baby, you hate goin’ out.” you didn’t think much of the pet name, people from the south said it all the time.

“not really, but- hey!” you yelped in surprise as jeff grabbed your wrist, gently pulling you down to lay next to him.

“good, let’s just stay here then,” he said, rightly wrapping his arms your waist, clinging to you like a koala.

“at least let me call lita and tell her we’re not going before she sends out a search party, you laughed. jeff let go of you enough for you to sit up, and you dialled litas cell number.

“hey, i think jeff and i are gonna stay in tonight. i’m sorry lita, next time. yes i know that’s what i say everytime but i promise. i know i say that too. okay, be safe, i’ll see you later.”

you hung up your cell, placing it on the nightstand before you kicked off your shoes and cuddled into bed with jeff. you had been friends for so long, it wasn’t wierd at all, often sharing a bed or falling asleep on the couch together after too many horror movies.

“your match tonight was great, by the way,” you complimented, and jeff smiled.

“thank you, i try to put on a good show. maybe one day we’ll have a tag match together,” he hummed as you laid back down, curling into his chest as he pulled you close again.

“that’s what lita was saying. she thinks we have some magical bond that would make us unstoppable,” you mumbled, your voice muffled because of how you were laying.

“i think she’s right,” jeff replied. “one day i’ll get you in the ring with me and we can prove matt’s theory. he thinks we can read each others minds and that’s why we think the same thing all the time.” you laughed at him, and jeff smiled wide at the sound.

“we’ll see. you scare me sometimes with how much you throw yourself around. and i don’t know about wrestling guys yet,“ you admitted.

“c’mon, you’re better than some of them already,” he said, ignoring your concern for his well being.

“i don’t know,” you mumbled. jeff pushed you back gently so you could look at eachother.

“well i do know. you’re amazing. and i would never let anything bad happen to you,” he promised. “inside the ring or outside of it.”

“i know. i feel safe with you,” you admitted, and jeff smiled.

“darlin, that’s the best thing i’ve ever heard.” you relaxed into him again, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“i don’t want anything to happen to you, either,” you said. you knew jeff was amazing at what he did, but that didn’t make it any less scary when he threw himself off of twenty foot ladders.

“you don’t have to worry about me, i ain’t going anywhere,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“promise?” you asked, and jeff’s arms tightened around you.

“i promise, babygirl.”

“i love you, jeff,” you sighed happily.

“you mean it?” he asked, and you kissed his cheek.

“of course.” jeff rolled over so you were both laying on your sides, face to face. “you don’t know that already?”

“i just like hearin you say it,” he smiled, and you laughed. “ya know you do this little nose scrunch when you laugh sometimes, it’s really cute.”

“shut up, i do not.”

“you just did it!” he laughed, and you hid your face in his chest. “it’s cute, don’t be embarrassed.”

“too late.”

“you don’t have to be embarrassed around me, hell we’ve seen eachother at our worst and we’re still friends.” jeff was right; you had been through a lot together, and at this point you didn’t think there was anything that could come between you.

“i know,” you sighed. “i don’t think anything will ever change that.”

“good. and i love you too.” you hummed in response, and there was a comfortable silence for a minute.

“we would make a good tag team though,” you admitted, and jeff laughed, and you could feel the vibration in his chest.

“damn right,” he agreed.

“lita said we should have a match against her and matt.”

“oh hell yeah, that’d be so awesome. any excuse to wrestle my brother, and you and lita against eachother would kick ass.”

“you mean she would kick my ass,” you laughed.

“you don’t give yourself enough credit. yeah she’s great but you are too.”

“thanks jeff, i appreciate that.”

“o’course,” he kissed the top of your nose, and you giggled. “you did it again -“

“shut up!” you laughed, punching his chest playfully.

“yeah? you gonna make me?” he asked, and started tickling your ribs, causing you to laugh harder. you wrestled around until you managed to get on top of him, straddling his hips.

“stop - or i start tickling you next.”

“alright alright, truce.” he held his hands up in surrender, and you caught your breath, realizing the position you were in. jeff sat up, holding you in his lap.

“jeff-“

“you said nothing could change our friendship right?” he asked softly, his eyes looking into yours.

“yeah, why-“ jeff leaned forward and kissed you softly, his lips barely touching yours before he pulled back. he waited for you to react, nervous that he had ruined everything, until you kissed him back, hands tangling in his messy blue and purple hair. jeff’s hands rested on your hips as he returned the kiss, smiling against your lips, before you separated.

“okay, maybe something could change the friendship slightly; but in a good way,” you smiled, and jeff bumped his forehead against yours softly, before laying back against the pillow, pulling you with him.

“i love you,” he said for the second time that night, perhaps meaning it a little differently now.

“i love you too,” you replied.

“say that again,” he breathed, squeezing you tighter.

“i love you.” jeff smiled as you kissed the underside of his jaw softly, and he turned off the lamp on the bedside table as you tangled your legs together under the blankets. jeff’s hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt slightly, drawing little shapes gently on the skin of your back as you both drifted off to sleep.

[ultriize]

CHERRY FLAVORED CIGARETTES

1 cherries started it all.

song eunseok.

a man you knew all to well, looking back now, you wish you hadn't, but the universe just wasn't on your side.

late april, just a few weeks after your birthday, cherry season bloomed. you being the cherry lover you are, decided to go to the nearby grocery and pick up a few bags, wanting to gift a few to your friends, or even make cherry pie.

"y/n it's cherry season!" jaeyun exclaimed, showing you he calendar he made specifically for you since he knew they were by far your favorite fruit, or anything really. "i saw," you smiled at him, running your hands through heeseung's hair who was resting his head in your lap, taking a short nap. "im thinking about walking to the grocery store and buying some, might even make some desserts?"

jay nodded, agreeing "you should, jungwon texted me earlier asking if you'd make him a cherry pie" "yeah sunoo said the same" sunghoon added. "riki too." heeseung mumbled, looking up at the guys.

"you gotta get up heeseung, im about to go to the store" you said as you continued to stroke through his faded purple hair. he shook his head at you snuggling more into your lap.

"y'all are the most couple-like but not a couple friends i have." jake commented again poking at heeseung's side.

"oh shut up" heeseung said, sitting up from your lap, making a messy attempt to fix his hair. "here," you said, swiping through his hair, making it look less messy, more presentable. "thanks" he smiled, pulling his hood over his head.

sunghoon squinted his eyes at the two of you, then looked at jay and jaeyun, the three of them making eye contact. "you know, on second thought. we'll stay here and prep some things for the cherry pies" sunghoon said, pushing himself off the ground, motioning for the others to tag along.

"let's go," heeseung smirked, grabbing his hand in yours, pulling you to the front door. "we'll be back in like thirty minutes!" he shouted to the guys. "yeah sure man!" jay replied, him and the others bursting into small laughters.

"whatever!" he dismissively said, pulling you out the front door with him.

no, you and heeseung weren't dating. but yes, you'd often do things that couples do, hold hands, go on little dates, call eachother babe or baby. that was just how you two were.

yes, you have considered the thought of dating each other, knowing it won't change much, it just being a title

but if you were honest with yourself, you didn't want to link yourself officially to him yet, and he felt the same. both of you liked how it was now. it was like an unspoken bond. the thing you were most thankful for was that heeseung wasn't the jealous type, if anything, he was your wingman. if he saw you eyeing a dude for a minute to long on one of your little dates, he wouldn't hesitate to give him your details. he's always wanted to see you happy and in a loving relationship, and if he wasn't ready to commit to that just yet, he'd be more than willing to find someone who'd be ready to for you.

so when you were nearing the grocery store and he saw three guys, one of which was definitely your type in his eyes, he untangled his hand from yours, poking your side. "11 o'clock" he mumbled, walking slower, gesturing over to the group of three guys.

one with honey blonde hair joking around with one with dark brown hair who was significantly taller. and then there was one with jet black hair, with his phone in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, bringing it up to his mouth settling it in between his lips. "i see" you replied, glancing at the raven haired man.

"c'mon" he tapped your shoulder, opening the door for you, walking inside the grocery store.

you gasped, looking at the display of cherries in the fruit section. "there's so many!" you exclaimed, heeseung glancing over at you, smiling when he saw your excitement. he never understood your obsession with the fruit, he himself wasn't too crazy about them. but knowing you'd been in love with the small fruit since you both were small, he never questioned it. "c'mon let's grab some." he smiled, grabbing a cart, putting four bags of cherries in the cart.

"so," he started, following you onto the next aisle, "i know we're making cherry pies for the boys, what else?"

"im thinking of trying cherry ice cream this time! i also want to make pistachio ice cream too." you mentioned, throwing a bag of pistachios into the cart as well. heeseung hummed, following you again to the checkout line.

"someone were ready for cherry season, hm?" the cashier said, a boy who looked younger, perhaps in his first or second year of college said, who's name tag read anton. "this one was." heeseung nudged your side.

"babe can you grab my wallet from my jacket for me?" heeseung asked you, gesturing to his coat that he put in the cart moments before. "no, i got it heeseung, thanks though" you smiled, opening your phone to your online wallet, tapping your card on the scanner. "wait i was gonna pay-" "too late" for faked sadness, pouting, shoving your phone back into your pocket.

anton smiled at the two of you, adoring your relationship. "y'all are a beautiful couple." he complimented, getting to work on the next couple, "oh we're not together-" heeseung started before you interrupted him, muttering a short "thanks!" flashing a smile to him, pushing heeseung forward.

he put the cart back, holding the large bag of pistachios in one of hand, cherries in the other. both your hands holding the bags of cherries. "look again" he said, talking about the men from before who were beside the entrance of the grocery store.

maybe you were staring a bit too hard, because you tripped on your own two feet, stumbling a bit, dropping the cherries. luckily before you fell, heeseung grabbed your arm to stop you from doing so, but it was too late for one bag of cherries, which had started rolling down the sidewalk, a few roling to the group on men.

the one smoking knelt down to pick one up, the fruit being slightly crushed by the pavement. "it must be raining cherries," he joked, looking up at you and heeseung. "im so sorry." you said, joining him in picking up the small but many cherries. heeseung already started moments ago, along with the two other guys. "don't worry about it, next time you want to stare at someone though, remember, 'left, right, left, right' with your feet."

you sighed, deciding that this was enough embarrassment for today. "sorry-" "don't apologize, i don't mind" he mumbled, throwing away some of the cherries in the trash bin.

"here you are, cherry." he said, handing you the bag you dropped to pick up the loose cherries. "it's y/n." you smiled at him, opening the bag, offering him some, which he took. he took the burning cigarette out of his mouth, popping two into his mouth, only removing the stem, and spitting out the pit. then he placed the cigarette back into his mouth.

"look at that, cherry flavored cigarette."

you hummed, bending down to pick up something beside him. "well isn't that better than regular cigarettes- oh excuse me," you feigned shock, the man scoffed at your attempt to call him out "marlboro gold" you corrected yourself.

"yeah," the man quickly grabbed the box of cigarettes out of your hand "it is, wanna have a try cherry?" he took the cigarette out of his mouth turning it to you. you shook you head at him, pushing his hand away. "ill pass, i dont smoke"

he laughed, not at you per se, but the way you declined him.

"good girl" he commented, you hated the phase, but that's all you'd ever been called before, was a 'good girl'. "whatever you say" you smiled at him and he put out the cigarette.

the man sighed, glancing over at his friends who were busy on their phones once again. then you looked over at heeseung who was on a phone call, facing away from the two of you. "that's good though, never start smoking.

you don't want to mess up those pretty lips, now do you?" he said, pulling his cigarette box back out of his pocket, "this," he showed the box to you, "isn't good for you." now it was your turn to scoff, the irony hitting you hard, "crazy how you're trying to lecture me on why i shouldn't smoke, and you've been doing so quite literally this entire time?" he hummed, agreeing with you. "i guess you're right."

"eunseok." he said, sliding the box of cigarettes into his pocket once more. "sorry, i didn't catch that" "my name- it's eunseok." he said again, leaning against the building. "seok, like the rock?"

eunseok feigned a laugh, hearing that joke too many times to count. "yeah, like the rock."

"cool" you hummed, looking over at heeseung once again, who was still busy on the phone. "what do you need all those cherries for anyways?" eunseok asked, pulling a cigarette out to smoke again. you analyzed his facial expressions while he lit the cigarette, his eyes squinting, mouth firm to hold it between his plump lips.

"hm?" he said, exhaling the smoke out of his mouth, holding the cig in between his index and middle finger. "well i like cherries, and i make pies and stuff for my friends with them. hence why i have so many." you explained.

eunseok nodded, understanding your use for the cherries. "you should make me one" he suggested, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "maybe"

"maybe- you should also give me your number, cherry."

you rolled your eyes at him, snatching his phone out of his hand. "you're smooth," typing your number into the phone, handing it back to him. eunseok pressed the 'call' button waiting for your phone to ring. "fake number?" he said, hearing the ring, but no buzzing in your pocket.

"i left it home" you shrugged, crossing your arms. he scoffed, sucking his teeth, "you'd better not be lying"

"why would i lie-" "y/n are you ready?" heeseung interrupted, looking in between you and eunseok, eunseok looking him up and down. "are you?" eunseok asked. heeseung looked awkward standing beside to two of you, so he threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away.

"thanks for keeping her company man!" he shouted to eunseok, turning back to you. "okay that wasn't the one i was referring to." he whispered to you, glancing back to eunseok once more. "but to each his own" he shrugged.

now, looking back on that day, eunseok didn't seem bad at first. he didn't seem bad at all. but that was before you got to know him, before you got to know the real him.

the eunseok that ruined you for anyone else.

[ next, coming soon!! ] [ masterlist ]

[shadamyheadcanons]

What songs do you think that fits Amy and Shadow?

My knowledge about Shadow is only a few so I'm not sure about him

For Amy, it will be Happy Synthesizer and Ikanaide/Don't Go and various bubbly and lively songs

Combining these two for convenience.

First one - I’m glad you asked!

Love your ideas, especially Ikanaide. It sounds pretty upbeat at first, but then you pay attention to the lyrics, and...ouch. Feeling left behind and trying to pretend she’s okay with it? Yeah. That’s Amy. Here’s a link I found for an English version.

And here’s one for Happy Synthesizer.

As for which songs I associate with them, my Song & Dance tag covers the topic pretty well, especially this post.

Given how often I think about these two, though, I’m always finding more examples. There’s one song that I feel fits Amy better than any other. I wrote a headcanon about it on January 7th, 2022. I correctly predicted in that headcanon that a bunch of Amy-related stuff would happen that year--right down to her getting a new theme song, even!

I still think my song idea works better than the one in the Frontiers DLC, though. That one feels kind of bland to me. Yeah, she trusts her cards, but she’s supposed to be a go-getter! She reads the cards and then blazes her own destiny using them as a guide. Her mild Frontiers theme gives off the vibe of someone who’s letting fate happen to them, not the other way around. Amy is kind, but she’s not passive.

Laineybug04 correctly pointed out in this post that “House of Gold” by Atreyu fits Shadamy quite well, and I included “Wait for You” in In a Pinch, but it doesn’t stop there. The more I listen to Atreyu, the more I hear Shadamy, and I’m glad you gave me an excuse to point it out! “House of Gold,” “Wait for You,” “Terrified,” “Super Hero”...and “I Would Kill/Lie/Die for You” is pretty much spot-on for Shadow’s brand of dedication. It’s more romantic than the title makes it sound, haha.

They’re not all necessarily romantic in nature, but it’s very easy to imagine Shadow singing them about Amy.

I want to call special attention to “Stronger Than Me,” though.

The speaker starts by showing insecurity.

Yup.

He fears opening up and showing his entire self because he thinks others will be scared by what they see.

Yup.

He admits connecting with him might be complicated sometimes, but he remains steadfast because the relationship is important to him.

And, uh...this is from the chorus:

“When I was lost, You were always there, my guiding light, You are my ward, my compass ROSE, my lighthouse in the night”

Do I even need to explain? She’s one comma away from being name-dropped. The song’s title fits perfectly, too. It takes a lot of strength to always look for the best in people and put your faith in the goodness of others. It’s so easy to give up. Shadow would legitimately admire her for it. She deserves to know how special she is for that, and who better to tell her than someone whose entire life was changed by that strength and kindness?

Here’s a detailed breakdown of the song and lyrics. Trust me, you’ll need the lyrics sheet.

Second ask:

Yes, absolutely! I think of him as liking modern rock and metal, and also jazz because it would’ve been all the rage when he was made. I’ve mentioned this before, but if I had to pick one band to be his favorite, I’d say Nine Inch Nails. It’s heavy, intense, angsty, and complex, and it has some of the same electronic, bass-centered vibes as Shadow’s earlier themes. Compare NIN songs like Discipline and The Perfect Drug with Rhythm and Balance (White Jungle’s theme) and Shadow’s original character theme, Throw it all Away, both by Everett Bradley. Trent Reznor also has a deep voice like Shadow and Bradley do. NIN could do a mean cover of Throw it all Away, now that I think about it...

I don’t think it’s the best idea for canon, even the questionably-canon Twitter Takeover, to cite real people/artists. It’s fine for fans like us to do it, but the official franchise is different. Humans are flawed and complicated. When you start including real people, you could potentially do something awkward like, say...connect your series built on environmentalism with someone who uses a private jet.

Y’know. Hypothetically.

That’s why I love what the social media team did with Hot Honey in The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog. A fictional band doesn’t carry that risk, and they’re seamless within the Sonic universe. Fans like us can’t get caught on whether or not Shadow would enjoy their music because none of us can actually hear them.

Funnily enough, your ask aligns perfectly with what makes Hot Honey so cute for these two. Shadow canonically doesn’t like Hot Honey at all:

No questions asked, no headcanons needed.

The reason he agreed to go was entirely, 100% because Amy asked him to. I think that’s far sweeter than the Taylor Swift thing. And I’ll be able to prove that when I finish writing Sweeter Than Honey. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about it!

No offense to anyone who does enjoy Taylor Swift’s music, of course. Different strokes for different folks. :)

[ghostoffuturespast]

hey ghostie i was gna get specific for the ask game but I wanna know *all* of it now, the acronyms, the full names, all of em! are they for cyberpunk or other fandoms? no matter how much there is to know, i wanna know! talking about an idea helps a lot, i speak from experience! thanks for the mention, ill get on the wip game soon, too! ❤️

WIP Game Here

Thank you for the ask! I appreciate it :) They are all Cyberpunk 2077 things lol. I’ve largely been a lurker in other fandoms until this one, and this is the first one that finally compelled me to make stuff and that I’ve had the bravery to share. Don’t have many snippets at the moment, all of what I have so far is already out there. Since you asked for all of them though, I shall dish and give you a bit of a peak behind the curtain on how all this got started…

(I’m sorry, this got very rambly.)

And def tag me when you do yours! I will come find you and your wips! 🧡

SIG - So It Goes

(The title is based off the radio song from the game that you can listen to on Morro Rock. Never officially released and credited to the fictional band Fingers and the Outlaws in the game. Officially sung by Ryan Kattner, the front singer of the band Man Man.)

SIG is my current V/River conspiracy theory long fic that I’m working on, and the project is coming up on its two year anniversary. It’s also my first fic. I’m hoping to wrap it up this spring so I can move on to other creative endeavors. There are a lot of art projects, fandom and non-fandom related, that I’ve held off on because of this and I miss those hobbies. I also feel like I’ve been missing out a lot in the writing corner of the fandom too because a lot of new writers have popped up on the scene since I started (back when there was still a monopoly on the tag, but that’s a different story) and everyone else seems to be having fun reading everyone else’s fics, except me… Reading’s complicated for me right now. Writing this had a lot of ups and downs, but overall I’ve loved telling this story, learned a lot, and I’m really proud of it!

I think most people get into fic writing for the ships, the romance, the smut, the processing of internalized trauma, a more satisfactory ending, weird niche interests… And don’t get me wrong there’s a lot of appeal with all that, and definitely those aspects in my own work. But this whole thing got started because of conspiracy theories. I fucking love mysteries and puzzles, so after playing the sun ending and then I spotting Mr. Blue Eyes on the balcony during the conclusion of Dream On, I just about lost my damn mind. I went down the rabbit hole, spent hours reading shards and messages in the game, combed reddit theory posts, and started picking up on all the hints and foreshadowing of something larger looming throughout the game.

I initially didn’t have any answers when I made the decision to start this fic (fuck, high probability I still don’t), it was largely me brainstorming and trying to figure out what kind of story I wanted to write. Seeing if I could even piece things together. But in the process of thinking all that through, I came up with this little theory. I thought it was pretty mind blowing at the time (still think it is) but it’s been my little secret since I got here and I’m very anxious to finally share it.

Most people probably would have just written a theory post and been done with it, but I decided to turn mine into a fan fic lol. Which may or not have been a mistake, we’ll see. This is either gonna be game changing or everyone is going to think it’s dumb and I’m gonna be wearing a dunce cap for the next fifty years.

River Ward. The other half of my reason for writing this fic. I actually wasn’t sure if I liked him at first, it took me a while to warm up to him. But the more I got to know him, the more I started to like him. The more he grew on me. He got hotter over time. Plus, I’ve got a fondness for detective characters and unusual coats, so I should’ve seen it coming.

River’s gotten a lot of flak from this fandom. People claim he’s boring. He’s a cop, so acab. Being unemployed and living in a trailer park with your sister, niece, and nephews isn’t a particularly redeeming quality. I don’t agree with most of those statements, but I do agree with the folks who do appreciate his character, that in terms of development, he absolutely got shafted in the game. This fic is also an attempt to rectify that.

For as underdeveloped as his story arc was, there’s a lot of nuance to his character that I think gets glossed over by the game and most people. We didn’t get much, but out of what we did get, it’s been interesting trying to piece a story together that’s in line with what we got. And I did mention earlier that I like puzzles.

I’ve noticed that a lot of folks tend to lean very hard into the cop aspect of his character, but as far as I’m concerned, River Ward doesn’t give a shit about the law. Conducting an off the record investigation, intimidating a confidential informant, illegally obtaining evidence, breaking into a restricted lab, committing arson for your ex so she can pass a medical exam, conducting another investigation after being suspended; those are not the actions of a man who holds the letter of the law above all else. Those are the actions of man who is determined to get to the bottom of things, and protect people, all while navigating a system that is anything but equitable or fair. They are the actions of a man who is willing to go above and beyond for the people he cares about, even to his own detriment. His own safety. For River Ward, it was never about the law, it’s about justice. And pursuing that sometimes involves breaking the rules.

River is also Pomo. Which is something that was only added in subsequent patches, heavily glossed over in the game, and is only disclosed if you choose to actually romance him. But he’s Indigenous. Native American. And yet he still made a conscious decision to join the NCPD. Given the historical participation by law enforcement and government institutions in North America, and around the world, in the cultural erasure and mass genocide of entire nations, tribes, and communities of people. And given the current state of issues regarding law and judicial enforcement on tribal lands, I think River's character is a rather poignant reflection. Of wanting to good, of wanting the world to be better, but being confined in systems that simply won't allow that. There's a billion other little details I could ramble on about, but his character had the capacity to walk a very fine line of complexities which the game never really did justice to.

Diversity and representation in media are important to me, and I want this fic to reflect that. Being bi-racial, I didn’t get very much of it growing up, so if I can provide representation, even in some small capacity, I think it’s better than nothing. And while I don’t know if I’m achieving that, well, shit if I’m not trying.

I wouldn’t say this story was really meant to be original, but rather to fill in the gaps on the story we got and for me to practice writing. Practice telling a story. CP2077 is a violent game set in a violent world. And I somehow managed to start writing a story that accidentally ended up being a love letter to aikido. (Much to my chagrin. It’s everywhere. In everything. I cannot escape it.) Aikido is a martial art that translates “to the way of peace” or “the path of harmony.” Yet again, another study in dichotomies. How can a martial art, an art form designed to inflict violence, be peaceful? Aikido is as much of a martial art as it is a philosophy. We train to practice and learn that philosophy.

One of the major themes I’m exploring in this fic series is the nature of violence. What it is, the forms it takes, how cyclical it is, that it is a relationship - violence requires your participation. So the question ends up being: how do you break cycles of violence when you live in a world where you are beholden to it? V and River are very much two characters that are caught up in cycles of violence. Will they find peace? I don’t know, but maybe they can find out together.

From The Top

(This one isn’t named after a song. I just decided to start from the beginning.)

From The Top is the VP project I started up last spring where I’ve been taking storyboard style photos of all the main missions. Plus whatever else I feel like. I take all of my photos on PS5 in vanilla photomode and randomly started snapping pictures just because. I did landscape photos, shared a few. Got a bit of nice feedback from people who cared to look and then started branching out. I eventually got to the point where I started a new playthrough for the sole purpose of snapping photos.

Taking VP is very different from writing for me. I don’t have to think about. I don’t agonize about making sure every tiny detail is just right, because for the most part I don’t have very much control It’s candid, intuitive, experimental, it’s straight up play. I simply wait for opportunities to present themselves and capture whatever I think looks or feels interesting to me. It’s easy for me to walk away from it if it doesn’t do well when I post. Unlike my writing, there’s no ego attached to it.

I’m getting to the tail end of this project, I still have a couple of the base game missions to get through, but I’d also like to do Phantom Liberty as well. Not sure what my VP career is going to look like after this, might go into soft retirement. But that’s okay.

NR - Night Running

(Named after Night Running by Cage the Elephant)

Is a sleeper wip that’s currently in the notes, brainstorming, and kitchen drawer phase. It’s part 2 of my Nothing Comes Before Night City series. So It Goes is part 1.

It takes a long time for me to mull over and ruminate on ideas, so this document is largely just a repository for notes and thoughts. Jamming the utensils in the drawer until I’m ready to organize them. I have a very broad idea of what I’d like to happen in this fic, key moments I’d like to hit, but there’s still a lot of refinement that needs to happen, and stories this involved require me outlining. I do already have a running set list of songs to draw from though.

Les Preludes

(Named after Les Preludes by Franz Liszt)

Another sleeper wip, also in the brainstorming phase. These are meant to be one-shots or short stories from the Nothing Comes Before Night City series. Moments I mentioned in the series, but can’t fit into the larger story. Character studies and background lore from V, River, Johnny, Jackie, a couple of OCs and whatever else I can think of.

I will probably start casually working on these after I finish SIG and while I’m outlining NR. I’d like the series to go in chronological order. Should be fun. And I think it’ll be good practice for being more concise. Unlike, this response...

If you stuck around for this TedTalk and made it all the way to the end, thank you! 👻

[shooting-star-hearts]

♡•Glitter For Skin•♡

✰ • 𝓟𝓐𝓘𝓡𝓘𝓝𝓖 ⇢ Cloud Strife/OC(Astrid Lovelyn) ✰ • 𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓜𝓔𝓢 ⇢ Fluff/comfort, Angst ✰• 𝓝𝓞𝓣𝓔𝓢 ⇢ Considering that this is oc x canon there will be...some things I changed that differ from canon ff7, such as Highwind scene...yeah I was a bit scared to add that one in sooooo no hate please? Thank you. Also I have horrible writing so I apologize for having to go through this if you choose do so 🥲 Anyhow...I wrote up this fic because it's been three years I've had this lil ship so...Happy Anniversary Cloustrid 💖(I'll also tag as x reader for anyone that wants to use as inspiration I'll allow it) ✰ • 𝓦𝓐𝓡𝓝𝓘𝓝𝓖𝓢 ⇢ Heartaches, Mention of a cut/blood, Suggestive at some point(implied nsfw) nothing explicit but do be mindful that this is 16+, no proofread(?), Cloud is a bit...ooc I think, he talks a little more than usual

Now playing - golden hour by JVKE

“Ouch!”

As a reflex, the paper flew from her grasp and was gently curled over the thin cut.  Her thumb soothed over the little red slit with her brows furrowing slightly; the cut was small but admittingly it did cause a bit of an annoyance to her finger. 

“Astrid~”

Tifa’s voice was followed by the jingling of the bells over the door, signaling someone’s entrance in the bakery. Astrid’s eyes left from her cut momentarily to flash a smile at her.

“Hey Ti! Closed up early?” 

“Mhm…You alright?” The dark-haired woman made her way around the counter, her eyes followed down at Astrid’s finger.

“A-ah- yeah! Just a paper cut! Hang on..” Astrid didn’t want to further concern Tifa. She opened up one of the cabinet doors under the counter, shuffling around items in search of band-aids. 

Tifa was already ahead of knowing what she needed.  “Need band-aids? I believe there’s some upstairs” “Actually that won’t be necessary, I’ll deal with it late-”

Before Astrid could reply, she heard the bells ring again and the door closing. Chuckling, she smiled at how sweet Tifa was being despite the case not being serious.

. . . . .

“How was business today? I’m guessing busy telling from how they were visiting my bakery immediately afterwards~”

“You bet!” Tifa wrapped a small, thin band-aid around Astrid’s ring finger. 

Evening on a weekend, perfect for when these two want to hang out after their shorter shifts. It had been two years and a half since Astrid’s official opening to her bakery, Promised Land, and since then she had been extremely happy over the fact that both her and Tifa’s business had brought them closer.

“You weren’t too overwhelmed I hope?”

“Tifa…you’re asking as if this is the first time I’ve dealt with a large crowd!” She laughed. 

“I know you’re capable but…being how you’re the only one working for yourself…you know you could always ask Fiona to help out, right?”

“I know! But you two seem s~o happy together even when you’re working! I can’t take that away~” The brunette shot a friendly tease at her.

Tifa simply averted her eyes and chuckled, a faint blush painted on her upper cheeks. “I don’t think one day of not being around me would kill her.”

“Oh c’mon, have you seen how clingy she is with you? I’m not lying when I say there isn’t one conversation I have had with her where she doesn’t mention your name~” Astrid’s teasing was full on Aerith-like at this point.

The more the brunette teased about Tifa’s love life, the more red on Tifa’s cheeks became visible from her smiling. 

“Alright, tough cookie…but seriously, I just wanna be sure you have the help you need, at least let me help out with tidying up some things around here?”

“Well, there isn’t much more to be done but…I know you won't say no either.” The girl titled her head.

Tifa pointed a finger gun at Astrid and clicked her tongue. “You know me~!” She went on to pick a broom and started sweeping away.

A new source of warmth entered the room as the sun set, pointing right at Astrid across the room as she stared at her band aid once more. Upon noticing the change in atmosphere, her green eyes softened at the new color that painted the walls of the bakery interior, her favorite color at that.

Gold.

The color of the sunset.

The color of their deal.

…And of course, the color of his hair.

Sunsets never failed to make her think of that one person during these times of the day. Ever since the first day of their budding friendship, a friendship that was sealed by their own hearts and a deal. Some may say childish for such a silly thing, but it wasn’t like anyone would understand how much that alone affected each other throughout their life. Even when starting out as outcasts, it didn’t take much for them to mean the world for one another. 

“Hey…did Cloud happen to text you?”

Tifa stopped in her tracks, a smile tugged her lips without facing the shorter lady.

“He…did say he’d come back early but…”

“Don’t worry.”

She turned around, flashing a reassuring grin, remembering the short conversation she had with Cloud earlier.

“...He’ll be here soon.”

. . . . .

Orange sunset: “Warmth and comfort”

“...You’re really good at that.”

Any kid—or adult for that matter—in this village would recognize that voice as the weird kid, or one of them at least. It was a strange interaction for the two children to face each other after all those times of visiting and having their moms bond since they were just babies, but now? It felt as though they had just met for the first time. Except by this point, they were longing for a friend to talk to, so one would say….it was only natural that they’d end up like this, somehow, someway.

The young brunette’s lips parted from the flute, cutting off the soft melodies that escaped from it. From the corner of her eyes, she saw him. His blue eyes—non-mako at the time—glistened widely in fascination with the girl’s talent. Then again, in all his years of knowing who Astrid Lovelyn was, he didn’t really know her.

“...Cloud?”

The same could be said for the brunette herself, or as 10 year old Cloud would know as the girl that feared him. He expected nothing more than seeing her run off to her room whenever she was aware of the boy’s presence.

…Or so he thought.

“...Thank you…!”

…So when he heard those two words ring in his ears, this took him by surprise. He’d ask her to repeat again but seeing he had gotten this far, he was pulled to talk further with her.

Except he couldn’t gather the words to create another sentence, he just…stood there, findling with his fingers.

♪Pink and orange skies, feelin' super childish♪

Cloud had only one plan: Ask her why she was being attacked by Tifa’s friends and go back to his lonesome self for the rest of his day, instead it felt like he was confronting a kitten that needed to be handled with extra care; one wrong move could cause some serious consequences.

Wait…why was this kid worried? I mean, he’s seen what this girl is capable of doing, she did scold the kids that lied about him convincing Tifa to endanger herself on Mt. Nibel. Albeit she isn’t violent as Cloud is but seeing her stand up for him deepened his curiosity of what else she was on about.

“Hey…are you okay?”

The tables had turned with who was the shy one in this case.

Cloud’s upper body moved back slowly at Astrid leaning forward to take a look at his expressions better. When the hell did she stand up? He hadn’t even been able to process the fact that he was standing the closest he’s ever been to her. The blonde was desperate to form words to tell, but nothing could rip from his throat to respond besides the common “uh..”

Oh shoot, is she smiling? Was it because he had just embarrassed himself in front of her by being such a dork? Or maybe the blonde just hadn’t considered how lovely he looked with tangerine hues glistening up his miniature spikes and blue eyes yet.

His eyes drifted from the young girl’s emerald orbs, finding himself staring at books leaning against each other. 

“What are…” His finger finished the rest of his question while pointing, intentionally diverting Astrid away from him before she could notice his blushing.

The brunette’s pigtails swayed in rhythm whilst turning her head, following the direction he was hinting at. “Oh..those? They're just…boring stuff.” 

She walked back over and picked up one of her books, showing off the cover to Cloud, “Growth in Gardening” it read.

“Stuff on gardening…stupid, I know.”

It was fast how Astrid instantly dissed her own interest. “...But you like it, right?” Was simply how he could respond. He wasn’t about to lie and pretend he knew anything about gardening, I mean, boy thinks flowers all look the same.

But, judging by how lush and flourishing the plantation had grew near Astrid’s house, this was definitely her biggest passion, or at least, one of possibly many others

“I do, but others think it’s weird for a girl to be working outside just to get all muddy and sweaty…” She sat down, flipping over a few pages to the section of yellow lilies. “So…I don’t really have anyone else to talk to about them besides my mom and…”

“…who?” Cloud tilted his head.

“...The plants that I grew.” She chuckled to herself. She must’ve felt like a freak in front of him. Guess all that outcasting really affected how she saw herself too.

“...Oh.” 

That was the only thing Cloud could murmur before letting the crickets fill in the rest of the silence. Astrid noticed his eyes averting from the corner of her eyes. By this point, the young blonde had completely forgotten the entire reason why he had come to visit her in the first place. He had considered leaving before things got more awkward–

“So…why did you come see me?”

Oh, that’s why he was there.

“Not that I don’t want you to be here but…you haven’t come to visit in so long…”

“...Why were those kids bugging you?”

“Oh…that…” She sighed, recalling how foolish she had put herself into trouble, only for Cloud to get pulled in just to defend her. “I overheard how they lied about you getting Tifa into danger, they were being jerks to you. It’s not fair how they’re doing this to you…I couldn’t just…stand there…”

“But you would’ve gotten yourself hurt.”

Astrid blinked at how Cloud saw it. ”I don’t….think they would’ve went that far-”

“Doesn’t matter. They shouldn’t have talked to you like that. They talk about you all the time and I just wanted them to shut up.” He blurted without thinking.

Okay now she was confused. “...Huh?”

“Yeah. They said some nasty stuff about you so many times. About how you’re weird and ugly and…all that.” 

Her eyes widened, the realization stunned her. Yeah she knew he was reckless and getting himself into trouble but…for her though…?

He fought them…because they were saying stuff about me…?

“Cloud…you shouldn’t have…why..?”

“Cuz….even if you hate me…they were still being mean about you.”

“Huh?!” Well that didn’t sound right. “Hate you?! What made you think I hate you Cloud??”

Cloud was just as surprised to figure out that he may have judged her wrongly. “...You always ran to your room each time I came to visit…”

…Oooh…

“C-Cloud I…I didn’t hide because I hated you, I did that with everyone! I was just…scared of people, but that didn’t mean I hated them!”

“I-”

Cloud choked up, both of them did. For a while Cloud had assumed that he was cursed with others taking a dislike to him but ... this was just a misunderstanding between these two kids all along?

One was overthinking on what to say and the other was underthinking, not the most ideal conversation if you can even call it that now. All in all, it was embarrassing, and it would’ve been rude if Cloud had just walked away without saying anything.

I guess the only thing left to do is…to apologize? For misunderstanding? For judging her past fears? Maybe?

“...Sor-”

“Ugh! I can’t take this!” 

Astrid stood up, stomping the ground in frustration. “This is dumb, we’re both being dumb!” Walking over back to the confused blonde, she had an idea in mind. “We can’t just keep beating around the bush like this! So if we don’t want that happening anymore, we’re gonna make a deal!”

“A-A deal…?”

“Yeah! A friendship deal!”

The little brunette extended her arm out, fingers widely open. “I can’t keep running away in fear and you can’t keep your own feelings hidden! So I’ll stick by you whenever you’re in a rough patch no matter how bad things get, but you have to be honest with me.”

“But…I-I don’t want you getting hurt because of me…”

“Well someone’s gotta be by your side! You can’t do everything on your own all your life, y’know?”

Yup, that sentence alone settled his decision. 

His eyes widened, he never really thought of himself as the type to be looked after. Again, lone wolf, lone life, it was what he was used to up until now. Spending way too much time trying to fit into a friends group didn’t even give him a chance to realize that there would be someone to genuinely be accepted by all along.

“...Deal.”

His hand glued onto hers, Astrid gave it a shake to seal the deal. He never saw her smile so brightly before either, it was a lovely complement to the orange glow on her face. Cloud’s lips tugged upwards into a half smile. The truth is, he would’ve been honest with her with or without this deal the moment he realized that he meant something to her.

This is childish….but she’s happy.

This wasn’t just a friend. This was the soul he vowed to stay close with and protect for the rest of his life.

Cloudy sunset: “Splitting relationship”

“Cloudy!!”

The brunette’s head turned over. Standing before her, his eyes stumbled upon the girl smiling up at him. For a moment, he had almost mistaken her for an angel, she never failed to look like one in these golden hours while the sun was setting. The sky was painted full of clouds, all surrendering the warmth of the sunlight that shone onto the kids’ faces.

The gentle zephyr breezed through the strands of her curly, long hair as he made his way to sit next to her on the dock. Both of their gazes fall upon the miniature wave of the water drifting into the light red thread in the sky.

♪Missed call from my mother, Like "Where you at tonight?" Got no alibi♪

“Are you okay? You seem like…”

The boy turned his head to face Astrid next to him. “Like what?”

Astrid tilted her head. “I dunno…you look like there’s a lot you wanna say…”

Her legs kicked back and forth, slightly hesitating to ask.

“What’s on your mind, Cloudy?”

There wasn’t an answer for several seconds, Cloud was equally hesitant, but after all, this was Astrid, a dear friend who’s been visibly obvious in her support for him. He sighed.

“...I wanna be a SOLDIER.”

“SOLDIER? Wouldn’t that mean you’d…have to leave off for Midgar…?”

The girl’s eyes softened, a hint of sadness hidden within her green eyes. She knew what that meant.

“..We won’t be seeing each other for a while.” Cloud’s head remained low, avoiding eye contact.

“..Yeah…” Astrid sighed. “Well…is it what you want to do? To become a hero?” 

“…It’s not just that.” The blonde picked up a knee and leaned against it. “I wanna impress someone.”

The girl’s head tilted to the side. “Hmm? I-Impress someone?”

“Yeah…I want to impress her. So I thought that becoming a hero as good as Sephiroth would finally make her notice me in…a new way.”

“R…really??” The smile widened on Astrid’s face. “May I ask…why?”

“..Because...” Cloud hesitated with a sigh, pink painted faintly on his cheeks. He was quite open with Astrid, so why not be honest with her? “..I like her.”

This was it.

Those three simple words made Astrid’s heart rush faster.

He didn’t even have to say that he felt the same for her. She just…knew it.

Was he finally going to confess? Was he finally going to tell his love for her? He’s always been so unusually affectionate to her even if it was just as a “friend”…she knew this was going to be it.

…This was it, wasn’t it?

She made up her mind: She’ll go in for the first move.

“You know, Cloudy…” Her legs swung in a light rhythm, the excitement within her heart felt like bursting out of its cage like a wild animal. Cloud turned his head to her as she spoke. 

“...You’re great with the way you are…you don’t need to prove or impress anything to anyone. I think you’re amazing and already a hero to me just by being an amazing friend but…I like you, for you and you only Cloudy~.” 

The smile remained brightly on her face, a warm glow of red flushed to Astrid’s cheeks. She could’ve sworn the blonde shot a momentarily smirk for a second.

But then…he turned back to face the sunset and…and then came back in silence.

…What went wrong? Did the words come out too weird and awkward? Was he trying to find his own words to express his feelings?

“Thanks Astrid, but…I don’t know if she’ll think the same as you.”

Wait…what?

“Wh…wh-what do you mean…?” Astrid’s smile slowly faded.

“I like Tifa but…I don’t think she’ll feel the same. That’s why I wanna impress her.”

[...]

Oh.

“I know it’s…surprising. Especially since Tifa and I aren’t the closest.”

Astrid didn’t even realize how widened her eyes were. Surely it wasn’t only surprising, but shocking. Her little heart remained at that same speeding pace, but this time, it was all for the wrong reasons. Had she misread his signals? Shouldn’t she be happy either way? Shouldn’t she have known this all along? Where was the part she had missed about Cloud’s feelings for Tifa?

…Does…Tifa like him as well…?

There were too many questions buzzing in the girl’s head. She couldn’t think straight.

“...That’s okay.”

Stupidly, those were the only words she could put together. Nothing more, nothing less.

The boy looked at her, he noticed how awfully quiet she’s been since he told her his crush.

“...The heart wants what it wants Cloudy…There’s…” She forced a soft smile. “...nothing…wrong with that.”

They both were one with the silence. The sun was slowly fading into the clouds, and so was Astrid’s fake smile; she badly wanted to cry her heart out but…this is her friend, her happiness, and if this was how he felt…then she knew well that she should be happy for him too.

“...When will you tell her?” The brunette spoke up, her green eyes glued on the sun’s disappearance.

“Hm?” Cloud’s turned to her.

“Your feelings for her…” Likewise, Astrid’s eyes met his blue ones. “When will you tell her?”

He looked away momentarily, this had him thinking of what time would be the perfect time to confess to Tifa. “I’ll be telling her about it tonight but...do you think it’d be best to confess when I come back?” He looked back at her. “Do you think…she’ll like me too…if I became a SOLDIER..?”

“I…I-I don’t know….” The tone was hinting at her breaking apart. Even she realized she couldn’t keep it together for long..

Cloud stuttered a bit on her response, he didn’t expect her to know but…it did in a way made him insecure about his idea.

It took all her strength and force to spark a small smile back onto the corner of Astrid’s lips.

“B-But….no matter what….”

Astrid faced Cloud with that radiant happiness she always carried around him, hoping that it wasn’t forced this time though.

“...I-I’ll be there for whatever happens between you too…just like what we shook on.”

“Thanks Astrid…and if I haven’t said it…” Cloud itched the back of his head shyly. “...You’re a great friend too.”

It never existed.

His feelings for her.

His protection for her.

His love for her.

…Only to realize they were merely just feelings for a very, dear friend.

And that those feelings…had been built off of imagination.

It got darker soon, as the sun sunsetted early behind more dense clouds that surrendered the remaining light left. The young blonde knew it was time to head back home. 

“Before I leave…I want to give you this back.”

As they stood facing each other, Cloud took off the gold necklace that hung from his neck from under his shirt, handing it in Astrid’s palms.

“You…don’t want it anymore?” She looked up at him with hurt hidden in her eyes.

Cloud shook his head. “I just…don’t want to lose it somewhere in Midgar. I think it’s safer with you.”

She looked down at the necklace. “D-Does it…still mean something to you…?”

“Of course it does.” Cloud responded softly. “That’s…why I’m scared to lose it.”

“...Yeah.” Her fingers curled on top of the jewel before looking back up to him. “...I’ll keep it safe…for us.”

Astrid could feel her eyes water up, and as a desperation attempt to hide her emotions, she hugged him suddenly. 

It took Cloud by surprise, not being used to affection that comes out of nowhere. “A-Astrid…?”

He could sense something was wrong, her grip refused to let him go. Eventually the young blonde relaxed. This was Astrid after all…a girl of nothing but love to give for others. His arms gently wrapped around her slowly. 

“Calm down...you’ll see me again.” Cloud awkwardly muttered.

Astrid was having a hard time focusing on what he said, being that she was in between keeping her breathing from becoming shaky and not letting him see the few tears that failed to stay behind eyelids. 

She was able to eventually clear her mind temporarily from his comforting touch, although she knew she had to let him go at some point, so she did.

“S-Sorry…I-I….I don’t know why I did that…” She looked down, a bit ashamed of herself.

“Hey….don’t worry ‘bout it, K?” Cloud reassured her before having to make his farewell to her. “Well…I gotta go now…”

Cloud began walking away from her.

“Cloudy..”

Until she called for him for one last time.

He turned over to look at her, standing under the spotted, clouded sky, her hands held closely to her heart. Her smile was as sweet as it could look.

“I….wish you nothing but the best for you.”

. . . . .

Her hand hurt so much when clutching hard on the jewel of the necklace.

Well….Astrid definitely knew what a heartbreak was now if she wasn’t gonna feel it later.

Describing her as a sobbing mess would be an understatement, it was hard to make less noise but she just had faith that no one would check on her. 

She felt ridiculous, crying over a boy after teaching herself not to care about what others think of her, and yet the thought of her own crush not feeling the same way she does for him bothered her?

Astrid, grow up…you’re better than this.

The young brunette sat up, caressing her cheek dry from the rest of her tears. Looking out from her window, the stars faced down on her brightly. She remembered how Cloud was supposed to meet up with Tifa tonight, just thinking about it made her hear their voices, but it was just difficult to imagine how they’d be together. Would they be happy? Would it work out? Would she….finally notice him like he had hoped for?

It was what he wanted, after all. And she knew.

That night before sleeping, Astrid had vowed never to fall for her friend like that again.

Pink sunset: "Budding romance"

“Cloud…I think you should talk to Astrid. I mean…really talk to her.”

“...You’re right, Tifa.”

. . . . .

The moment she felt fingers curl around her hand, all the thoughts and worries blurred the instant her gaze met with stunning, angelic blue eyes. She was so caught up in her own thoughts, Astrid hadn’t even noticed Cloud’s presence crawl up from behind whatsoever.

“Astrid…”

The blonde softly muttered from his lips, almost sounding like a whisper. Astrid struggled to talk, he could see how hard she was trying to either talk or not break down in front of him. She truly looked as if she knew that the world was gonna end that night.

Well.

That’s because the world is ending.

She was clearly scared as a result. A part of her was trying its best to be strong, something that her own cousin, Aerith, would do, but she felt as if she wasn’t brave enough, then she’d have to carry the burden of disappointment. Well, it wouldn’t have mattered anyways if the planet’s life was coming to an end, would it now?

Cloud softly sighed, he acknowledged her suffering and saved her from the trouble of responding to him. He got closer to her, his eyes looking down at her in empathy. He softly spoke in his lowest tone.

“..Let’s get off the Highwind for the night. Just…the two of us.”

He didn’t need to hear her say ‘yes.’

Her eyes said it all.

♪Can you even imagine fallin' like I did for the love of my life?♪

Their hands remained stuck together. Each moment that passed they held on slightly tighter, giving a few squeezes every now and as they walked onto the rocky mountain, decorated in patches of green here and there. They stopped at the top, their skin basking under the warm, pink-casted light of the sunset that they were both facing. They stood there, soft wisps of wind fluttering the tips of their hair gently. Their eyes locked gaze with the beautifully painted sky, the rosie scenery that resided in their nostalgic memories and hearts. 

It was exactly why the image of it being ripped and wrecked by the giant meteor beast scared them. They both flinched. It was clear that they were thinking of the exact same thought.

“I-It always felt like…the sunset either brings us closer or…drags us apart…each time we bask in its light…”

Cloud turned to her, watching her slowly walk away from him and creating more distance. It felt like a wave of relief washing over him upon hearing the brunette’s soft voice, but he can feel her worries and sadness louder than her own words.

“...But r-right now…I can’t tell what it feels like…” Her green eyes shift down to the ground. “...A part of me feels like….all of this…is my fault…”

Cloud mouth slightly parted, blinking in disbelief.

“The reason for how we got here and…why we’re here…you know well that I don’t deserve a moment like this Cloud…”

She sighed gently, then turned back to face Cloud with slightly watery eyes.

“...You didn’t just take us down here for the scenery…didn’t you?”

“...No.”

Cloud paused before continuing.

“...But you know well why I brought you here, and all I want…is to hear you say that reason.”

But here she was.

Eyes slightly widened at him, the state of shock was clear as crystal on her face. Her breath hitched as she immediately looked away, the red hotness creeping up her cheeks. She knew it’d only have been a matter of time until Cloud finally found what was in the depths of her heart, the feelings that she’d been trying her best to kill. The guilt was catching up, and the woman was at her limit of excuses to make.

She couldn’t tell if it would’ve been better for her to finally fess up to it, or if the world should’ve just ended right then and there.

She had been so lost in her doubtful thoughts she hadn’t realized Cloud standing right in front of her, her hands resting on his palms. She looked up through her lashes, and the blonde knew how fearful she was to tell him.

“Don’t be scared..” He gently gave her hands a few faint squeezes. “I’m not letting you do this alone. So…let���s both promise to be honest this time…deal?” Cloud tilted his head.

A deal huh.

If anything, maybe things would’ve been different had Astrid not come up with that similar scenario when they were younger. But even god knew they both needed it at some point in their lives.

Astrid seemed to calm down, nodding softly. Yet, the pit of anxiety in her stomach still rested comfortably, and it would only grow bigger the moment she opened her mouth. She’d have to, eventually.

“They all told me.” The blonde started.

“The lifestream….Tifa…Aerith…”

“They all wanted me to know about your feelings, Astrid.”

“In the lifestream…Tifa took me to you…during the time after I left…”

Astrid looked as if she had a million words to say, but she just couldn’t bring herself to even say a single word. She just looked away, the memories forcing her to relive the young pain she once swore to get over.

The blonde’s crystal eyes softened. “...I hurt you badly…didn’t I…” 

Astrid’s hand wrapped around her arm, her chest elevated and softly fell back down as she sighed through her nose.

“...I never blamed you, Cloudy.” She let out a sigh-chuckle while humming to herself. “If it was never meant to be then….”

Once again, she couldn’t find the words. Cloud blinked, finally hearing Astrid’s inner feelings, as if she had another hidden heart that she had just revealed to him. A heart that’s been hurting…and he blames himself for it all.

Astrid looked over to his guilty expression, one that can be rarely seen. And this…just devastated her more.

“C-Cloud…i-it’s not your fault..” She looked up at him with pleading eyes. “...I promise…i-it really isn’t..”

“If there’s one thing that can put me at ease right now…it’s to hear you talk to me, Astrid.” Every one of his words filled to the brim with sincerity. “You’ve always had an ear to everyone else…but there wasn’t once anyone’s returned the favor for you…I wanna change that, right here, right now.”

…He had a point.

“Please Astrid…you don’t have to hide your feelings anymore…especially not with…me.” His hand reached up to her cheek and lifted her head up to look at him. “...Please.” Cloud whispered gently.

…And he was right.

It had to be said at one point. All those feelings. Those memories. Those heartaches…

She took a deep breath, sighing away the small emotional rock that was stuck in her throat.

“...I-If anything…it’s my fault.” She looked off to the side, ashamed. “I should’ve never fallen for you in the first place…”

She shook her head.

“...but even so…it was like I was never allowed to get over it completely…even when I saw you again I…I wasn’t even sure how to be myself around you like I used to…” The brunette bit her lip.

The blonde started to realize. “...When I changed, so did you…”

She looked back at him to face him.

“But….no matter what…there were always those feelings we had for each other that stuck with us, huh…”

. . .

F…

Feelings…?

Our…feelings…?

Does he….also…?

“C-Cloud…”

Her body had a mind of its own.

Not realizing the closed-in space between herself and Cloud, her hands rested upon his chest, fingers curling into a hard grip at his shirt. Her form was kept still by the strength of Cloud's arms wrapped around her, hands resting up on her lower back. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the blonde’s crystal blue orbs. 

So full of emotion…

So full of feelings…feelings that can’t be put into simple, plain words…

It was a naturally magnetic feeling. Each second pulled each other closer, both having the strongest urge imaginable to get even more closer. It was like..they were both revealing their true selves to each other…

Oh…

How much she missed him…

How she missed his true self…

The Cloud she once knew and fell in love with all those years ago…

…

“I promise….never to fall for you again.”

The remembrance of that oath gave Astrid’s heart a sudden jolt. She snapped herself awake from the sweet dream that clouded her thoughts, finally gaining back control of her senses and only to realize that the real she knew Cloud didn’t feel like this for her.

He never did, never would either.

Those thoughts alone made her pull herself away from his arms. Tears overwhelmed her eyes, making them glossy and brighter to the reflection of the light. It was clear she wanted to cry, but something held her back, not allowing her to let the droplets escape from her eyes.

“I…I-I shouldn’t…I can’t…!”

Her hands formed into fists, a sign that she was still clenching hard on her remaining hidden feelings.

“...I can’t fall in love with the boy whose heart was never meant for me…a-again…”

She was scared, afraid to fall in love with him, only to have her heart crushed to pieces all over again with the unfortunate truth.

It was deja vu to the both of them.

But this time.

Cloud could see…her. 

His heart was at its fullest with his honest feelings for her.

And he wanted her to know.

Every. 

Single.

Bit of it.

“Astrid…”

Cloud’s eyes gave the softest look, he badly wanted to make amends with the fear he caused in Astrid’s heart. He wanted to prove his feelings innocent, that they were honest, from the bottom of his heart, and from his own real self, the same one who had been too blind to see how all of her past efforts were all out of nothing but the love she had for him. It was the same love for him that’s trapped in her but..

Only he had the key to unlock the trust of her love for him again.

“Whether this may be the last night we’re together like this…or we’ll have more nights to talk…just to get closer each time...it wouldn’t matter. I feel the closest to you at this moment, but if I’m never able to fix the trust of your feelings for me…then I’ll always be afraid…”

He drew closer.

“...Because I now know…I hurt the one girl that’s always understood me…”

His hand cupped her cheek once more. A single tear rolled softly down her cheek.

“...And it was the biggest mistake I could’ve ever made..”

“....C….Cloud…”

“...Is there any way I can fix this…?”

More tears started to spill, slowly. Cloud’s voice becomes a soft whisper. Astrid’s lips quivered, the more she looked into his eyes, the more she saw how serious he was about her.

“B-By knowing how I feel, Cloud…. th-that’s all I want…all I need..” Her voice was shaken up. “I-I never wanted to say a thing to you, I vowed not to…I-I knew I could never be the one for you…I kn-knew that there was always g-going to be someone else for you…. a-anyone but me…”

It was clear he was fighting for her trust again, and it was equally clear that it’s working. It was stinging Astrid’s heart in so many ways at the thought of this finally being her moment to finally accept her own feelings for him.

Their moment.

“No…you convinced yourself that Astrid.” Cloud brought himself closer to her slowly, trying to break her walls break by break at an unrushed pace. “...You were always there in my mind even when I didn’t realize it..”

“You understood my feelings for the longest time…but I hadn’t known about your broken heart that you were trying to fix by yourself..”

 He slowly leaned near her ear, blonde strands brushed against Astrid’s cheeks softly..

“You can’t do everything on your own all your life….y’know?”

He….remembered….

Finally, Astrid was speechless through tears, her arms thrown around Cloud’s form as she stuttered through her sobs. It was all going so fast yet time seemed to slow down to a halt.

Being in Cloud’s arms felt like a lifetime, despite all the times they lost together had she fessed up earlier…it didn’t matter now though. She felt like a huge weight was washed down even through the crying.

Soft lips were planted on her head…but Cloud knew they were far from being done.

. . . . .

♪She's got glow on her face, a glorious look in her eyes♪

By now the sky’s hues were radiating with magenta-purples, a sign of nighttime approaching. 

He held her close, laying on a soft patch of grass with his hands entangled in her reddish-brown waves of hair. To the sound of his gentle heartbeats, Astrid’s breathing did its best to regulate itself after crying.

Once she was ready…she spoke up.

“Cloud..I…I’m ready…”

The man’s arms loosened around her waist, facing the emerald eyes that reflected the remaining light of the sunset. Some hair rested upon her nose, to which he brushed off slowly and tucked it behind her ear.

“I never really cared about what others thought of me but…after that growing connection we had…it really stung upon realizing how I had conjured those memories as romantic when…it wasn’t true. After that I promised never to fall for you again but…” She chuckled. “...I guess fate didn’t like the idea of me truly giving those feelings up, when your true self was starting to melt from the ice…so did my feelings…and it hurt even more knowing how I knew I fell over again for someone who was….already in love…”

“Maybe I was, but…”Cloud’s hand rested still on her cheek. “...in the end, it all led me back to you.”

Seeing him move closer, she was at her last chance at resisting.

Instead however, as her mind reeled every memory.

Every memory of her heartaches…

Every memory of him…

Every memory of the times he’s spent with her…

Oh, Astrid…

You’re not just childly in love; you want to spend the rest of your days and nights with him, don’t you?

She wanted to spend her evenings with him outdoors and watching every glorious sunset with a feeling of reassurance, knowing that tomorrow she’ll wake up to see the same loving, blue eyes that glowed in her own times of darkness. To hold him gently through his pains, watch him smile when he knows that everything will be okay…

Yes…this was what she wanted to fight for….

The only sounds that they could hear were each other’s heartbeats as their lips interlocked.

♪My angel of light…♪

Red sunset: "Passionate love"

Soft glows of red streaks filled the bedroom across through the blinds. She closed the door, soaking up the serenity atmosphere as she faced her lover that she hadn’t seen for a week, an apologetic look at his face spoke for itself.

“Astrid…I-I’m sorry..”

“I know you are, Cloud..”

The brunette walked over to the bed, sitting next to him as he avoided eye contact. He felt ashamed abandoning her ever since geostigma had caught up to Denzel.

“I also didn’t know how to fight that battle…all those years of…mourning over her put me off from learning anything more of my heritage.” Astrid sighed, she too was in deep regret of how she had handled things. “...I’m glad to know that we’re getting stronger now…and to know that we have others that I can call…family…”

Family…

Oh how lovely that word sounded…something they both hadn’t heard since they were little, something they had longed for once more.

“....That includes you, Cloudy…” Astrid reached for his cheek, turning his head gently to face the loving look in her eyes. “...so we’re not letting you go off to face the impossible alone no matter what…got that?”

“Yeah…”

A faint tint of red appeared on his cheeks. He felt warm from her words and lingering touches, her thumb brushing some of his blonde spikes behind his ear. Cloud took his gloves off before removing her hand from his face, taking a good look at her palms whilst caressing its softness…

So soft…

“They wouldn’t have cured if it wasn’t for you…~”

The blonde smiled, his heartbeat steadied at a relaxed pace. She didn’t wince or feel any pain when he applied some pressure onto it with his thumbs, unlike when it was infected. The look of joy on his face was unforgettable upon washing away the geostigma from her hands, knowing that he’d be able to hold her hand again.

“This is a future that we fought for…” His hands held Astrid’s, looking into her eyes. “...so I won’t let it go to waste again. I promise.”

“Cloudy…you don’t have to promise…because you already know it’s what we want…” 

♪I was all alone with the love of my life♪

Astrid closed the leftover gap between them with a tender kiss. Saying that they missed the feeling of locking their soft lips with one another was an understatement, they practically yearned their touch after what they had been through. They couldn’t keep their hands to themselves no matter how hard they tried to resist. They separated in between kisses for air but they had no plans on stopping any time soon. 

Slowly, they ended up laying together. Cloud crawled on top of his petite girlfriend while cradling her legs up his thighs, his hand caressed up her waist tenderly under her shirt. 

At some point their loving stares locked with each other, Cloud’s thumb rubbed her bottom lip with a strip of red light streaking over it as well. It was obvious how much he wanted to take things a step further, telling by the look in his eyes that she knows all too well how to read. 

“I missed this…I missed you…” He absolutely longed to reveal his unconditional love to her. 

Sparks burned brighter with each kiss that led to a more passionate connection. Fire prickled at Cloud’s fingertips all the more as he stroked further up her form, craving to hold her smaller body into his loving embrace, it felt like his whole world was in his very arms…

It was a fresh breath of air to know he was in the same room as her, the same bed as her again…just like how it should be…

“...C-Cloudy…~” The pace of the girl’s heartbeat quickened from the euphoric state, she wanted him as much as he wanted her that moment. 

. . . . .

The warm lovers were tied up together in cuddles and kisses. Cloud’s mouth buried on Astrid’s head whilst tangling his fingers through her wavy hair. 

“Astrid..?”

♪She's got glitter for skin, my radiant beam in the night♪

He didn’t get a response from her, she must’ve been tired out. He smirked while giving a tender peck on her head. Just from that, she snuggled up closer to his chest which earned a chuckle from him. She was the absolute cutest in every way possible in his eyes, he could feel the fireworks in his chest go off with happiness to have her warm and safe in his arms again…

“I love you…~”

He slowly dozed off to the sound of a muttered "I love you too."

Golden sunset: “Long-living love”

Ding ding!

The bells rang in rhythm with sounds of footsteps that followed.

“Ah! Sorry but we’re closed..” Astrid’s eyes didn’t leave her focus on organizing the money in the cash register.

Tifa giggled in the back when she realized that her own friend hadn’t even noticed who just walked in. “Astrid…look up silly!”

“Huh?” She hadn’t even taken notice of the shadow approaching her until a familiar gloved hand was placed on the counter in front of her. “Cloudy~!!” The young brunette raced around the counter and threw her arms around her boyfriend gleefully, having him return the affection with his left arm while his right one was holding a small decorated box.

“For a moment I was worried that I wasn’t welcomed back~”

“Don’t worry I was just distracted…Tifa and I were just tidying up some things. I just need to bring the rest of the tools upsta-”

“Allow me!” Tifa hurried over to grab the rest of the stuff before Astrid could get to it. She giggled and winked at the two. “Gotta let the couple of the night have their deserved rest~” Tifa winked and walked out of the room before either two could reply.

“She seems…oddly chipper all of a sudden…” Astrid remarked, it confused her to how Tifa had just rushed out so fast. She looked back up to Cloud after hearing a soft chuckle escape from his throat, he had a smile that screamed he was hiding something as he averted his eyes. Astrid noticed and got even more confused. “Hey, why the mischievousness? Do you two…know something that I don’t?”

Astrid placed one hand on her hip and the other on the counter beside her, leaning towards Cloud with an eyebrow lifted to interrogate him. He didn’t reply, instead he simply placed the small box that was in his and pushed it towards her. The girl’s green eyes widened at the beautifully detailed box with a gold ribbon and a red rose attached to it. 

“...I think this package will answer your question~”

She let out a soft giggle and shook her head at his attempt at distracting her.

But as she carefully peeled at the wrapping, her heart slowly increased its pace. 

“C-Cloud…” 

“Open it Astrid…”

♪I don't need no light to see you shine♪

This girl could’ve been shaking from the excitement upon lifting the box open, facing a glittering golden ring, a mold of the yellow lily’s petals was circulated around a shining blue gem, reflecting the golden light off of its flat sides. 

“Oh my…C-Cloud…I-I..!” Her mind was still reeling at the fact that Cloud had just proposed to her and she didn’t even acknowledge how much she was crying her eyes out, not until her now-fiancé reached to caress the tears off of her cheek with his thumbs gently. 

“Astrid..?”

Through tears, Astrid lunged herself in a hug with him. “Yes Cloudy! I will marry you!! You mean the world to me!! I love you so so s~o much…!” Her arms tightened around him, it caused his heart to flutter with a loving smile that followed up.

Hearing a tap on the door window that Tifa had left from, Cloud could still see her presence whilst she raised two thumbs up and a wide grin plastered on the woman’s face for encouragement. The man smiled, he was the happiest in that moment. He wanted to see her excitement last for the rest of their days, to hold her like this forevermore…

That wasn’t the only thing that Cloud is giving however. 

“Ah right, I almost forgot…” He gently held Astrid’s arms for her to loosen her grip, allowing him to pull something else from his bag.

A pen and a marriage certificate.

“Just sign here…Astrid Strife~”

♪It’s your golden hour~♪

[hermionegalathynius]

The 2nd time Steve surprised you.

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Warnings: talk of family issues on Steve’s part.

“What do you think they’re talking about in there?” You asked Robin as you kept her company while she scooped ice cream. 

  After the chaos six months ago through which Dustin’s friend Eleven closed the gaping hole in the material of the universe, you and Steve Harrington actually managed to become friends. Through babysitting Dustin and his gang of troublemakers, you began to see a lot more of the guy. At school, it seemed he had lost his ‘King Steve’ title, as well as most of his friends after his break-up with Nancy. While you had a few friends at school due to band, you mostly kept to yourself during the day, but this changed as Steve (not wanting to remain seated next to Nancy in certain classes) moved next to you. According to the boy in question, he had just asked those teachers to move him and they had coincidentally placed him next to you in every. Single. Class. 

  Not that you were complaining. When he was away from his asshole friends, Steve Harrington was a decent guy and actually pretty funny. It came as a surprise to the both of you, but conversation became really easy, and time flew by when you were together. Eventually you developed a routine where the two of you would go get Benny’s Burgers whenever you’d had to drop the kiddies off somewhere. The tradition started during the Winter Ball when Dustin had insisted Steve tag along to drop him off for emotional support. The older boy had actually come early to help your brother with his hair and show him how to style it. The image of the two of them fussing over Dustin’s untameable curls definitely shouldn’t have made your heart melt the way it did. 

  After Dustin had clambered out Steve’s BMW, you and him had decided to stop by Benny’s to get dinner while you waited for the agreed-upon time at which you needed to pick Dustin up. It was the first time you were actually spending time alone with Steve since the demodogs, and it was… nice. 

  Then, summer had arrived. You and Steve were officially graduated. While you planned to use the summer holidays as a time to rest before you moved up to Indianapolis to work in a theatre orchestra for a year, Steve’s dad made him get a job. The boy had spent a good hour sitting in the car outside Benny’s, ranting to you about how much the man infuriated him. You sympathised, expressing your own disapproval of his father’s actions and attitude towards Steve. As far as you were concerned, the man clearly didn’t know his son very well, because if he could just see the wonderful man he was growing up to be, maybe he wouldn’t be so harsh on him. 

  One of the biggest shocks that came over the summer, was Steve working alongside Robin at Scoops Ahoy. When the boy had called you halfway through his first week on the job and begged you to come save him from his mean coworker, you had been delightfully surprised to find out that his ‘mean coworker’ was in fact your friend Robin Buckley from high school band. 

  To Steve’s dismay, he ended up having to share you with Robin, who he was liking less and less now that she had you on her side. 

  That’s why, when Dustin came home from camp, he jumped at the opportunity to help the kid translate a Russian code in the back room. 

  “From what I can hear,” said Robin, replying to your question, “they are trying to decipher a secret Russian communication your strange brother intercepted on his mega-radio.”

  You had literally left the store for twenty minutes to drive Max and Eleven to Starcourt mall after the two girls had called begging you to take them. Twenty minutes, and the two boys were already looking for trouble. 

   “Russian communication?!” 

  Your friend shrugged, holding up her hand and placing her forefinger and thumb half an inch apart, “Honestly, I’m this close to marching in there and insisting I help them just so Steve will come out and switch with me.”

  Your huffed a laugh, “If you do, I’ll come with you. I don’t need to witness another one of Steve’s failed attempts at flirting with the customers.”

  Robin groaned suddenly as Lucas’s sister and her group of My Little Pony fanatics entered the store. 

  “Not again,” she muttered. 

  You winced and gave her a pat on the shoulder, “Want me to hurl Steve up here so he can deal with it?”

  She shook her head, “Nah, I’ll push through. This is my last customer for the morning though. After, you and I are gonna go help your strange brother translate his Russian code and dumbass can sling ice cream.”

  With a grin, you hopped up onto the small surface behind the counter and leant back on your hands as Robin dealt with Erica’s relentless ‘tasting’. 

  After fifteen, excruciating minutes, the gaggle of girls finally left and you and Robin were free to go into the break room. 

  “Alright, babysitting time is over, you need to get in there,” Robin stated, pushing through the door, you trailing behind her with a smirk aimed at Steve that said ‘you’re in for it now, sucker’. 

  “Hey, my board! That was important data shitbirds!” the blonde yelled, whirling on the two boys. 

  You eyes snapped to the whiteboard hanging on the wall, and sure enough, instead of the usual shipment dates and stock numbers, the Russian alphabet was written out in bright red marker with its English counterparts labelled in black. Your smirk widened and you raised your brows at Steve who was halfway through popping a piece of banana in his mouth. His eyes widened innocently and you rolled yours. 

  “I can guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data,” Dustin replied. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you should be impressed or afraid for your little brother at his adamant cheek towards your significantly scary friend. 

  “Oh yeah?” Robin challenged, walking to stand opposite the table to Dustin and Steve. Ever the loyal friend, you moved to stand beside her, crossing your arms. 

  “Yeah,” Dustin said, keeping his ground. 

  You sighed, “And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyway?”

  The boys froze — Steve still had a mouth full of banana when Dustin demanded in a lowered tone, “How do they know about the Russians?”

  “I don’ know!” the older boy protested around the banana.

  “Did you tell them about the Russians?”

  “It wasn’t me!”

  “Hello, we can hear you!” Robin exclaimed, clearly becoming pissed off. In all honesty, you were too. Sure, you’re brother was a little science genius, but you had taught him almost everything he knew — except for all of the stuff Mr Clark had taught him. He got his passion for science from the same gene pool you did. It was about time Dustin started acknowledging your superior level of intellect as the older sibling. 

  “Actually, we can hear everything you’re saying,” you added in, “You’re both extremely loud.”

  “You think you have evil Russians plotting against our country on tape and you’re trying to translate but you haven’t figured out a single word because you didn’t realise the Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do,” Robin continued. 

  You both watched as they looked at each other in defeat, clearly beat. Steve was refusing to meet your eyes. 

  “Sound about right?” she finished. 

  Thinking on your feet, you lurched forward, making a grab for the tape lying on the table. Steve — realising your aim — was too fast for you and grabbed the tape out from under your fingertips. 

  “Woah, woah! What are you doing?” he yelled, hugging the tape to his chest. You glared at him, blowing a flyaway strand of hair from your eyes. 

  “We want to hear it.”

  “Why?” The boys asked in unison. 

  “Because maybe we can help,” Robin said, shrugging. 

  “She’s fluent in four languages,” you pointed out, pinning your brother and your best friend with a stare. 

  Dustin perked up, “Russian?” he asked.

  “Ouyay aryay umbraday,” Robin recited. You stifled a laugh, knowing she just called Dustin dumb in pig latin. 

  “Oh ho ho ho!” Steve exclaimed. 

  “Holy shit!” said Dustin. 

  “That was pig latin, dingus,” Robin told them. 

  Steve smacked Dustin’s arm, “Idiot.”

  You rolled you eyes again. 

  “But,” Robin continued, sliding into a seat, “I can speak Spanish, and French and Italian.”

  “And we’ve both been in band for twelve years,” you added.

  “Yeah, our ears are little geniuses, trust me,” Robin finished, “What do you say?”

  She directed the last question at Steve. He laughed dryly, beginning to shake his head. 

  “Come on! It’s your turn to sling ice cream, my turn to translate! I don’t even want credit I’m just bored!” she complained, torso resting on the table too dramatically. 

  You looked at Steve and found him watching you, an expression of defeat on his face. You grinned, knowing he was about to give in. 

  “Fine,” he said, “But only if Y/n comes with to keep me company.”

  “What? No! I want to help too!” you exclaimed. 

  “Deal,” Robin said, and Steve handed her the tape. 

  You whirled a betrayed expression on Robin, “Traitor!”

  She smiled apologetically, “Sorry, kid. It’s like I told them. I’m bored.”

  You sighed, and accepted Steve’s hand to drag you back out into the store. 

  “I don’t know why you’re complaining,” he whined, “You’re my best friend.”

  Deciding to just grin and bare it, you bumped your hip against his as he grabbed a scooper, “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

  He pouted, “I’ve barely seen you this summer even though you’ve been right in the store with me.”

  Your heart warmed at his words as you jumped back onto the counter again, “You been missing me, Harrington?”

  His cheeks flushed as he leant against the counter next to you, “I…” he sighed, taking off his sailor hat and running a hand through his hair, “Every night I go home to my jackass father telling me how disappointed he is in me and explaining why I’m a terrible son. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember, and until a few months ago I had nothing to help me cope. Then I met you, and we became friends, and suddenly I could look forward to seeing you everyday.”

  You weren’t sure you were breathing. 

  “I know I don’t say it enough, but I need you. And I miss you even if you’ve only been gone five minutes.”

  “Steve,” you breathed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”

  He shrugged, finally meeting your gaze with a shaky smile, “It’s not your fault.”

  “You have to know I need you too, right?” You said, leaning against him and resting your head on his shoulder, “I’m generally someone who likes her own company, but with you I never feel like I have to back away for a moment and take a breather. Back in high school I was always a little tense in the mornings because I knew I would have to interact with people I’m not comfortable around, but then I’d get to my locker and see you standing there and suddenly I could relax.”

  Something in your chest was aching as you spoke, and the truth behind your words brought a surge of affection for the boy next to you that definitely exceeded the boundaries of friendship. 

  The two of you sat like that in comfortable silence for a moment. At some point during your confession, Steve had tilted his own head to rest on yours as his hands fiddled mindlessly with his scooper. 

  Then two familiar girls walked into the store, giggling like the children they were and you frowned.

  “Is El even allowed here? I didn’t check before I drove the two of them…” you mused.

  “Either way,” Steve said, pushing off the counter, “That’s my cue to do my job.”

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: Let's get that BREAD (WBN #32-33)

MOON KNIGHT

WEREWOLF BY NIGHT Issue #32: 'The Stalker Called Moon Knight' 

Written by: Doug Moench

Art by: Don Perlin

Published 1975

Are you ready for this? You better be. 

Werewolf by Night was started as a "Marvel Spotlight" in 1972. 

Or did it? 

In 1953, before Marvel was well...MARVEL... It was Atlas Comics. A five page short called "Werewolf by Night" came out. Later, when Marvel formed and comics had a "Comics Code Authority", they approved the use of werewolves and we got our boy Jack Russell. 

Want to know something hilarious? 

The original creators, Roy Thomas, Jeanie Thomas, Gerry Conway, and Mike Ploog had no idea that Jack Russell was also the name of a popular dog breed. Or if they did, they didn't think about it at the time of naming the main character. Readers started pointing it out and they all went, “Huh. So it is.” 

Wanna know something else amazing? 

Greer Grant Nelson, AKA: TIGRA, also got her start in Werewolf by Night in 1974, issue #1 of "Giant-Size Creatures" (later renamed Giant-Size Werewolf)

In the 1980s, Jack Russell didn't really make much of an appearance anymore until Moon Knight #29. 

Our Beloved Doug Moench picked up Werewolf by Night with issue # 20-43 in 1974-1977. 

Moon Knight got started officially in 1980. 

He couldn't get the character out of his head after WBN and neither could the fans. 

So let’s take a look at the birth of Moon Knight and see if we can’t find out why he went from one time villain to full time hero (and full time occupant to my heart). 

One thing to note about Werewolf by Night, we get a lot of narration from Jack Russell himself. And sometimes it's as Jack, and sometimes it's Jack looking at the wolf and others it's the wolf peaking through Jack. 

But us Moon Knight fans are used to different perspectives, aren't we? 

We open on the title page: 

"The tag's Russell, with a Jack in front of it. The kind of name that fits a normal 19 year old dude living out in L.A.--Not the kind of name you'd expect to find slapped on a guy who sprouted fangs, pore-to-pore fur, and wolfish howls every time the moon ballooned full. Unless that guy happened to have a father who was cursed by an arcane book called DARKHOLD --And who inherited his father's curse on his 18th birthday. 

Tough, I usually ain't. But when the Full Moon pokes its ugly puss into my life, I turn into the werewolf--and nobody messes with a dude dressed in fur, claws, and pure MEAN. So why didn't somebody tell that to--

THE STALKER CALLED MOON KNIGHT" 

LOL Yeah. He’s a stubborn idiot alright. 

"Fast, Brutal, and Armed with everything to produce a scream, he was wasting me with no doubt about it. And every time I tried to slash back at the weirdo--My hand exploded in a fire labeled agony." 

Second night of the full moon cycle. The wolf is not doing so hot. 

His hand is broken and he's facing down this angry guy dressed in silver. 

"Get up, you mangy freak!! Get up so I can knock you back down again!" 

He lunches at the masked man only to take a punch to the face. 

"It was called a cestus--as in Glove. Worn by gladiators in the arena. A cestus is spiked. These spikes were silver. Silver is hell on a werewolf." 

He wrestles with Moon Knight who doesn't let up, kicking and punching. 

The whole time Moon Knight yells at him. 

Bystanders watch in awe. 

"Man! That guy's like a tornado on a rampage!" 

"I'm hip--but what's that other dude like--Lon Chaney in a mink--?!" 

LOL oh 1970s...never change. 

Moon Knight addresses the wolf. 

"You've had it, Freak. You're half-way gone and I haven't even started!" 

Moon Knight unleashes his razor blade silver scresent darts on the wolf. 

"It wasn't right. The Moon was supposed to give him strength--fill him with savagery--Not stab him with glaring pain..." 

"Drop Freak! Drop like the wounded beast you are!" 

Moon Knight kicks him, with his Savate Kick, which is a French Boxing style that combines Boxing with kicking. It predates Kickboxing by 100 years and is quite brutal. 

It sends the wolf sprawling. Especially from his silver tipped toe. 

They pause and we get a flash back to the night before. 

"It had started the night before, when an innocent ski-jaunt in northern California had erupted into a blizzard of horror. As the werewolf, I'd almost murdered a cute 7-year-old girl named Buttons... Fortunately, my best friend, Buck Cowan, had other ideas..."

(If you're cold, he’s cold. Bring him inside)

"So I shivered into them and prepared to wait for Buck. You see, I didn't remember the werewolf's little Blood Tussle with Buck--and since Buck was supposed to pick me up here..." 

We see Buck being taken into emergency services and rushed in for immediate surgery. 

"After an hour of waiting, I'd begun to worry... Where was Buck?" 

We see Buck shredded and crashing on the table. 

Jack hitches a ride into down, wondering if his friend is alright. 

We see Buck crash in surgery and they frantically try to get his heart back. 

Jack makes it back to his Stepfather's house. 

"Jack! Are you all right, son?" 

"Sure, Dad. As all right as I ever am the morning after a Full Moon. Why? And where's Lissa?" 

We see the doctors are finished. There is nothing more they can do for Buck. 

"You mean you--You don't remember, son?" 

"Remember what? What?!" 

"Lissa's down at Westwood Hospital, Jack. Topaz called--Said your friend Buck was hurt... Was mauled... He...He might not pull through, Jack." 

Narration: The soft words slammed me, hit me like a thousand crushing mountains--But my only raction was numbness--Disbelief--

"Easy, Jack... Just take it easy, son." 

"Easy? I might've killed my best friend and you want me to take it easy?!" 

Jack is understandably upset.He runs to the hospital. 

Buck is in a coma and "The doctors aren't sure he'll come out of it."  

(Who names their kid Buttons?) 

They tell the group to go home and get some rest. But they decide not to go with Jack. 

"Under the circumstances, we thought it might be best if Lissa stayed with me tonight--at my room-- To keep our minds off Buck--ANd also because well..." 

"Go on, Topaz, say it--Because I've got the Moon-Cooties and you don't want to be around when I sprout fangs again. Well, I don't blame you. I'd stay away from me if I could..." 

Narration: And that was my exit--as petulant as a cry-baby feeling sorry for its own tears... 

Feeling sorry for himself, he heads back for home to apologize to his stepdad before the moon rises and he has to run off again. His hand hurts and he's pretty sure it's broken. 

But as he gets home, the door is already open and he senses something is off. Someone else is in there with his Stepdad. 

"Dad?" 

"In the Den, Jack. There's someone here to see you.." 

Yeah! You get that bread! Delicious delicious bread! 

"Hello, Russell. They told me to announce myself as The Moon Knight. Pretty stupid name--But It'll do as far as you're concerned--" 

Yep. You heard it here first people. 

Now, time line gets a little funky if you try to figure out if this was pre or post death and resurrection by Khonshu. 

This could either be Mercenary Marc Spector for Hire that heard "werewolf" and dressed up in all silver for protection and then got the name Moon Knight and then it later stuck with him after he came back.... OR this is immediately post resurrection (which I find more likely) and it's his first gig. In a later Moon Knight issue we learn that Frenchie had acted as his contact with the group that hired him and the Moon Knight still had no idea what he was doing and still wasn't 100% on board with the 'good guy' routine. In fact, we later learn that the money he made in this job is what helped him get started in Grant Mansion. 

Still doesn't explain why he's like, "Moon Knight? Who the hell picked this name?" And I have to quietly laugh that Marc indeed DID pick the name after he was brought back by Khonshu and the rest of his system was like "Marc, what the fuck? Really? That's what we're going with?" 

ANYWAYS... 

"His voice was muffled under the silver gauze which covered his face like ectoplasm. That was something else I didn't like..." 

Moon Knight explains: Let's say I'm a WORKING Man, Russell, out to do my job and collect my bread. This particular job started down in the waterfront section... Pretty sleazy place--Lots of rats--The stink of filthy Brine--And rotting, sagging warehouses... But one of those warehouses is a lot like that Book you're not supposed to judge by it's cover --Because inside, it ain't rotting or sagging, and the only stink is the smell of money. LOTS of money. I went there on a tip--And found out it was a set-up..." 

We see a bunch of businessmen at a table. 

"So you're Mark Spector." 

"I'm Spector. Who're you?" 

"We'll get to that in time, Mr. Spector. Right now, I find your dossier immensely interesting... Soldier of fortune, mercenary, veteran of THREE African wars, FIVE south American revolutions, Brief flirtation with the C.I.A., Weapons expert, versatile practitioner of virtually all the martial arts, ex-prizefighter, marine commando for Eight years prior to beating a Lieutenant within an inch of his life...Et cetera." 

"So your research department is hot stuff. So what? I was told there'd be money down here. What do I do to get it?" 

Okay so... We don't ever get this dossier again guys. THIS is the dossier of Marc Spector (despite that they spell it Mark here). In fact, they never really review Marc's past in the later comics again. They just say he's well versed in combat. 

That...That is a lot of combat. A lot of war and a lot of revolutions. And we know he wasn't always on the right side of the revolutions. We know he was a boxer, but the prizefighter bit is new. So is the 8 years Marine AND the beating a lieutenant part. We can assume he was discharged after that. That's interesting. 

So when writers forget that MArc knows what the hell he's doing... I have to frown at them a lot. Marc is dangerous. Marc decided he was going to be worth the money and he damn well was. 

Back to the gentlemen! 

"I admire your directness, Mr. Spector, and shall endeavor to emulate it. First, we want you to open that compartment now rising from the table... Then don the rather unique costume you will find inside it. ANd utilize every weapon accompanying that costume..As well as your inherent abilities--To capture and deliver to us a werewolf named Jack Russell. Upon Delivery, you will receive this. Then thousand dollars." 

WELP. There you have it. (But again... take this history with a grain of salt. He wasn't supposed to come back.) 

"That's the story, Russell. Me, I don't believe in werewolves--But the committee's got ten grand that does--So who am I to argue?" 

Ah, the COmmittee. A group of people out to capture the werewolf in some attempt to try to harness its power. 

We see them come back in Moon Knight Issue #4. 

Moon Knight tells Russell that he either goes easy or gets delivered as 'bruised goods'. 

"My head was swimming through queasy nausea as he stalked forward. Was it the pain in my hand or had the Moon festered into a darkening sky? 

My Stepfather decided the issue." 

His stepfather tackles the Moon Knight and tells Jack to run. 

Jack makes a run and starts to feel the Wolf taking over. 

Above him he hears a Helicopter giving chase, tracking him. 

"That's our man up ahead, Frenchie..." We see Moon Knight and Frenchie in the chapter. (Even back then we got the pair and this makes me happy.) "ANd he's just made me a believer in werewolves." 

For once, the werewolf cares not about the scattering humans in the street. He knows the chopter is the target of his distress. 

Moon Knight climbs down the ladder in pursuit. 

I mean... How many people will go, "WOW .Werewolves are real?!" and then proceed to get into a fight with said werewolf? 

AND WIN THE FIGHT. 

One of the spectators decides that enough is enough and he calls the police before these crazy things decide to eat them or something (Moon Knight included. Dude just tackled a wolf creature and got into a fight with it on purpose). 

The police take a moment to digest this info.

"Some comic book weirdo is sluggin' it out with a werewolf on a street corner in Westwood." 

Yeah, that sounds about right. 

They try to call in the local expert, but he's on vacation. 

At this point we start to head into Werewolf by Night lore and back story. I'll admit... I've never actually READ werewolf by night. So all of this is very new to me and I have no explanation for who these people are or what's happening. So I'm going to skip a bit of what I'm SURE is important to the long run of the story but will not come up as important to these two key issues we're focusing on. (But you can bet your buppie that I'm going to start reading it. This hat is in my bag. ...This 1970s talk is getting to me.) 

Meanwhile, the two girls from before, Lissa and Topaz, are worrying about Buck and Jack. A helicopter lands and ....Frenchie....what are you doing? Did you learn this from watching Marc? Don't bust through windows! 

(I’m not counting this. But I should.) 

Back with Moon Knight and the Wolf. 

"I slashed, still favoring my broken hand--and growled in fury as he deftly evaded my raking talons. He'd produced a new weapon now. It looked like a Truncheon. And it was definitely silver." 

(No don’t chew it! Someone put the cone of shame on him!) 

And there’s Moon Knight, getting to know the ground. He and the ground are gonna be best friends in future runs. 

Moon Knight uses his truncheon to beat the beast and finally the wolf goes down. On cue, Frenchie arrives in the chopper with both girls. 

This issue comes to an end with Moon Knight GETTING THAT BREAD. 

Moon Knight is also about to have what I lovingly call: A BAD DAY. But that’s in the next issue. 

Werewolf By Night Issue #33: ' Wolf-Beast vs Moon Knight' 

Written by: Doug Moench

Art by: Don Perlin

Published 1975

You guys. I can’t wait to show you that Moon Knight’s bad decision skills dates back to his first appearance. You have no idea. 

TITLE PAGE! 

I love how they get the names of the people involved in this comic and they put it into the pictures. 

Also... We witness the first of many bad decisions. 

The chopper continues to rise and the police open fire. 

He’s doing fine. 

We got more exposition that I'm going to skip because it has more to do with the overall arch of the WBN story and nothing that will come into play in this two part story. 

Now we come to the helicopter flying out over the dock and water. 

Welcome to part 1 of Moon Knight's bad day. 

“No, you stupid idiot! We’re five-hundred feet up!!” 

Buddy.... Pal... Bestie... 

Narration: But the werewolf didn't care. He was mad. So mad that he'd even forgotten about his broken hand... 

They splash down into the water. 

"Mangy Freak! The Committee's payin' me ten grand to bring you in alive--And you almost drown us both before I even--" 

Narration: The fight wasn't out of the werewolf yet... In fact, I was just beginning to roar. 

"Crazy fur coat with fangs--! I musta told you a dozen times--The committee wants you alive! And if you can't get that through your hairy head--I'm gonna have to pound it in!!" 

Narration: And in the pounding there was pain--Pain caused by Moon Knight's arsenal of silver weapons...His studded cestus, punching at me...Even the crescent darts, still embedded in my bristling skin... But even if the werewolf had understood the threat silver posed to him, I doubt it would've made much difference. He still remembered the beating he'd taken from this foe. The memory made him MAD...And the rage demanded revenge. 

"Not again, beast-man--I'm getting tired of this!! Watch out you stupid--" 

And back in the water they go. 

Narration: We hit the pacific for the second time... The water shot fire through my shattered hand, made it throb like a hiccupping balloon... But what was that compared to the beast's life-and-death lust for vengeance--? Answer: Bright nothing, wrapped in pretty bows of bloody violence. So we fought, both struggling to escape hell... 

Narration: ...Each determined to win that struggle... And each to leave the other behind. It was the werewolf who won, breaking free of hell with gasps and wheezes... 

I hauled myself onto the rotting planks, still gasping... But triumphant. 

Or so the werewolf thought. 

"Hold it, mange-puss... I ain't heard no count of ten yet..." 

Moon Knight no... 

Narration: It was impossible. I'd slashed, clawed, mauled, and choked him--ANd he wanted more, still MORE--! I gave him more, a vicious roundhouse slash... But the Moon Knight clutched for that slash and he yanked. Hard. 

And they go back into the water. 

Moon Knight climbs back out a moment later. 

"God, that thing's dynamite on wheels...Never fought so hard in my life... Gotta rest... Catch my breath... Before he surfaces again... ALREADY?!" 

Narration: Yeah, already-And the fever was too high to quit. It was long overdue, and the werewolf had long since paid for it in pain... 

It was time for the payoff--For returning favors--And for doing unto the other until what was done... COuld never be undone.

The wolf beats on Moon Knight for a bit. He’s pretty ticked off. 

Moon Knight's pretty exhausted at this point and the wolf is starting to get the upper hand. 

But then... Whoopse. It's morning! 

The night is over and the wolf turns back into a very beat up sad Jack Russel... 

You know how I know this is Marc? (Aside from the fact that this is Pre official Moon Knight and Jake and Steven haven’t been written into existence yet). THE BAD DECISIONS. 

Someone yells down to them and Moon Knight thinks it might be the cops. But it turns out to just be a drunk guy heading home after a night on the town. 

"Well, thank the moon for small miracles... But I still can't believe I saw this guy change like that...My darts must be hurtin' the poor freak. Might as well take 'em out.." 

Frenchie arrives and Moon Knight once more carries Jack up the ladder towards that bread. 

Back at the hospital, Buck woke up only briefly to call out for his friends then fell back asleep. 

The doctor informs the lady that "whatever mauled Mr. Cowan inflicted extensive damage to his sacral region--His lower back--Severing oth the sciatic and femoral nerves. We've done our best, but he still might be paralyzed from the waist down... If he emerges from the coma." 

Yup. Can confirm. You need those nerves. That's not good news. 

Back with Moon Knight! He is now before the committee and he's brought along the two girls and Jack. Time for bread day.

"All right bozos--You've already stalled the whole day in some top secret meeting-and I ain't waitin' any longer! I brought you your pigeon. Now where's my bread?!" 

"You've brought us an unconscious kid, Mr. Spector...Or should I say Mr. Moon Knight? You seem to be taking that costume rather seriously... But as I was saying, we still have no proof that you have delivered a bona fide Werewolf. Indeed, we can't even be certain that this young man is Jack Russell..." 

The committee also show skepticism that one of the two girls is Jack's sister "and therefore destined to become a werewolf herself someday." 

The committee decides to wait until the final full moon appears that night and they can see for themselves. 

Moon Knight is displeased. 

"I oughta smack that scummy nose right down your throat." 

If it were me, I would not mess with this man. He just spent a whole night fighting a werewolf. 

Jack wakes up to find himself still in a lot of pain and locked in a cage. 

The committee tell Jack that they plan to keep the werewolf as a pet to release when they want certain people murdered. 

As one might imagine, Jack is not on board with this plan. 

He turns to Moon Knight :

"And YOU, crusader rabbit--Are you in the habit of getting paid for slamming people into CAGES?! That's right, I said PEOPLE! Are you shocked to hear that I'm an honest to god Person? Or have you been trying to forget it?! Well, I'm gonna give you a refresher course, Pal... I may be a werewolf--But on my nights off I'm still human! And Believe me, Fancy pants, being the werewolf is a far worse cage than these stinking bars!" 

And the moon rises and he starts to change. 

The committee is all shocked to see him change. 

The wolf is NOT happy to be caged. 

The committee members congratulate Spector "Or Moon Knight if you prefer..." 

(Isn't that so interesting? Even in this early issue where he's just a one off character and no history or past drawn up yet, they still can't get his identity right? What were you planning Mr. Moench? Even back then?) 

Moon Knight doesn't say anything, simply watches the wolf freak out in his cage. 

Jack's sister yells at him. Accusing him of selling Jack to people who want to "turn him into the murderer he's always feared he would become! The murderer he's always fought to avoid--Even when it tore his soul in two!!" 

"Don't listen to her, Marc. Sure, he's her brother... But he's still just a freak--just a beast... Why worry about a beast?" 

Narration: Moon Knight took the money... And stared at me again... 

"Just a beast, all right... But at least a cleaner and more honest beast than you slimy slugs! At least he's a beast with guts! A beast who fights ony to be free! And that's the kind of fight I support, Lard-Butts!!" 

Moon Knight kicks open the bars! That's one hell of a kick. 

The wolf is loose! And the Moon Knight has changed sides! 

I gotta respect that one member in the back... 

"But I... I don't even carry a gun! I'm just a businessman! You guys dragged me into this werewolf deal because you said it would be good for the economy!" 

"We're ALL businessmen, Hicks!" 

"Yeah--And you're all goin' outta business now!! Especially your two-ton leader.. So I'd advise him to get his lard in gear--Unless he wants it kicked from here to Monterey!" -Moon Knight. 

Narration: The Silver one--The one with the PAIN. He was the one I wanted... But he ducked. 

The wolf soars past Moon Knight and attacks one of the men with guns. 

"Sorry, Fido--But if there's one thing I've learned, it's more fun fightin' with you than against you-- So go get 'em Tiger!" 

"Holy Smokes! Almost forgot the two chicks Frenchie nabbed... With allthe lead flyin' around here, they're liable to turn into swiss cheese." 

Good job Marc. You're doing great there. 

He cuts the two girls down and tells them to make a run for it. 

"But what about Jack?" Jack's sister cries out. 

"Just get outta here! He can take care of himself!" Moon Knight shoos them away. 

"Come ON, Lissa. I don't know what turned that man from a villain into a hero, but he's right--! At this point, Jack has a far better chance than we do--" 

The girls get out and Moon Knight and the Wolf keep fighting through the bad guys. 

Narration: On our own or not, the committee was falling to pieces. Most ran. Others fell. The Moon Knight seemed to geta kick out of it, batling like some gayblade swashbuckler straight from Errol Flynn country... 

(What)

"And Another gabardine hits the dust!" 

(What?) 

(I'mma play it straight with you... The 1970s language is 100% a thing. It's even better when you remember Marc is from Chicago so all this is probably said with a pretty stiff chicago accent and I'm crying cause I'm trying not to laugh so hard right now. I’ll just let you read through those lines yourself and slap a strong chicago or new york accent on that.) 

ANYWAYS….. 

Moon Knight punts the guy to the wolf who lets off a little steam on him. 

All the bad guys are taken care of. This just leaves Moon Knight and the Wolf in the room alone. 

Narration: Fatso hit the floor like rubberized Jello, and when the quivering stopped...it was just the two of us. I growled, softly...

"Now wait a minute, Pal. You 'n me just fought together. That makes us brothers of the blood where I come from... Where's your sense of camaraderie? Even Frenchie's got some o' that." 

Marc... 

"All right--If that's the way you feel about it, I'm going' I'm goin'! I may've fought you for ten grand--But I sure ain't gonna do it for free...!" 

....he jumps out the window. 

"And they used to say I was antisocial... I'll send you a bill for the cape, Pal. Ciao!" 

(and they did send a Bill to fix that cape. A Bill Sienkiewicz to be exact.) 

WELP. I’m sorry to tell you I don’t know if Buck will live or walk again. (I’m sure he’s fine). But this ends Moon Knight in Werewolf by Nigh! 

He appears in several things before 1980 when he gets his own official run. He pops in with the Hulk (in that run we meet Randall. Then say goodbye to Randall) and he also gets a few spotlights. 

The fact that he was supposed to be a one time villain and in just TWO issues, we got so much characterization and tidbits of back story (I’d love to explore that antisocial comment he made back there.) that they couldn’t help but give him more chances. I swear, in these two issues, we got a better look at Moon Knight than I’ve seen certain OTHER writers give him! 

And if I hadn’t of fallen in love with him back when I did, just reading through these couple of issues would have me head over heels. His tenacity, his poor decisions, his repeated trip into the water… This man came out fighting for his life and he’s he went out fighting. 

Here’s to you, Moon Knight. The only person in the whole Marvel Universe stupid enough to fight a werewolf for a solid night and then try to make friends with that werewolf. 

[thecoffeelorian]

The Transport On The Left, #4

Title:  The Transport On The Left

Chapter:  Four

Genre:  Drama/Mystery

Word Count:  Under 1k

Characters Included:  Crosshair, Echo, Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker.

Brief Description: "Cross is instantly drawn back into his own memories without a sound, back to a nameless, darkened room where nothing but sound and faint pinholes of light can be found. It's here that someone covers his face with one of these blankets, almost like they're allowing him the first real moment of rest he's had in what feels like months--but then, their next surprise comes."

Warnings: There will be mentions of torture/waterboarding in this chapter. Please avoid this if you know your health will be affected in any way, and thank you.

AO3: Click Here

No-Pressure Tags: @megmca @ladykagewaki @talesfrommedinastation @carlycrays @melymigo @momojedi @mysticalgalaxysalad @moonstrider9904 @slenderboo @localcryptid3 @spacemagicandlaserswords @littlefeatherr @gun-roswell @alabyte @sw-2020-1 @lukascastelan @omglisalithium @skellymom  @me-thestarwarsfan @donut1642 @thats-cacti @gray-paladin @idkwhatdoyouwannabecalled @im-not-the-me-i-use-to-be @storminormins @wendywilliamsleftlip @danger-noodles22 @ladylienda @marvel-starwarsfangirl @theosb0rnway and...pretty much anyone else who's kinda had enough of certain Troopers looking like they'd un-alive each other if Omega wasn't watching. ^^; I guess I have to do everything around here, so here's the overture to ALL these stubborn Fett boys having to learn to discuss deep topics, and NOT wait for Omega to tell them!

Special Notes: This divider was created by @djarrex , and so I give all credit to her. :)

One // Two // Three // Four // Five//

(Quick Author’s Note: This story is paying NO attention to the people behind the Twitter curtains. So...for what it’s worth, I’ll do my best to keep the explosions to a minimum, if you get my drift. ;)

Four

The next several minutes tick by in a slow crawl, for this decommission site's newest "visitor" sees no real way to respond to this latest cell in a lifelong succession of cells other than with complete silence. It's been like this for him ever since his decanting day, after all, so it's probably not so out of the ordinary to think that this little fact of life could ever change. Not when the original versions of these Hulls already turned their Deeces upon him, and so drove away any lingering dreams of home. Nevertheless, the Hulls themselves decide to play at being happy, and so force a series of half-hearted smiles onto their faces right after they wheel him inside. Crosshair pays them no mind, though, for he slowly becomes far more focused on the room around him.

Standard, Republic-made medbay; medium size; sleeps two to a room with one other patient here residing. Medbay monitor beginning to flicker repeatedly due to end of shelf life; must alert the nearest available staff. Medbay itself appears to have been cleaned and sanitized recently, though a few faint bloodstains remain visible upon the edge of this blanket, origins unknown-- "...drink?" —What...? Focused enough, even, to very nearly miss the question posed to him by the skull-faced Hull. "I, er...wanted to know if you needed something to drink?" Drinks. Sure. THEY had officially stopped giving him drinks, never mind also food and medicine, as soon as he'd woken up on that operating table. In fact, since it was nothing less than kriffing stupid to even ask him such a thing, if only for the idea that nobody else would have bothered to feed him at this point...he had zero second thoughts about ignoring it. "Okay...that's a no. Got it." In response, the ashen Hull walks past the other three Hulls to a small compartment in the wall, inside of which he finds an extra regulation blanket. He easily picks this up with one hand before returning to Crosshair's bedside, the steady whirr-thump of his footsteps sounding upon the oar. "How about this, then?" Cross is instantly drawn back into his own memories without a sound, back to a nameless, darkened room where nothing but sound and faint pinholes of light can be found. It's here that someone covers his face with one of these blankets, almost like they're allowing him the first real moment of rest he's had in what feels like months--but then, their next surprise comes. Water. Not a slow, steady dripping from a faucet in any corner, but a quick wet plume of it right upon his covered face. Direct. Harsh. Enough to seep through the fabric, into his eyes, down his nose and throat, gagging him-- —Where is the female clone?-- —Making him struggle to breathe, forcing him backwards against the headboard as he gasped for air-- "—All right, all right, I'm sorry! Hell of a time to ask!" "—Corporal, I do not believe that this method is effective--" "—Then fine, let's skip the effectiveness and get that other med droid in here--" "—AW, JUST MOVE IT!" ...And then, the tallest of the Hulls suddenly pushes his way past the others, almost knocking the Skull-face right off his feet as he goes off to grab something upon the floor before anybody else can stop him. "Here, Crossy. Think y' just dropped this." Indeed, before anyone else even has the wherewithal to respond... there's something soft--and yet sturdy--placed behind him in order to keep from banging his own head against the wall. "Wrecker, what are you--" "—HELPING." And out of all these Hulls and their stand-offish approach, it's this one who first reacted to his low state, who actually had the nerve to stop muttering and do something about it--but why...?! "Somethin' you all forgot how to do...but never mind." He doesn't get a lot of time to think this through, because before he knows it, this tallest Hull of the batch is pushing his way through the others, a growing scowl evident upon his face as he goes. " 'M going to go find Fireball. Don't comm me until 'Meg gets back." ... Ooh. Ooh. In spite of the way that neither he nor these others ever saw that one coming, however, Crosshair himself begins to find this experience a bit more interesting than the meaningless chatter of the other three. Within the span of five minutes, this one seemed eager to do more than just stand around, whereas the rest of this group didn't do much else besides ask questions and look terribly lost. In fact... against his usual cold attitude and somewhat better judgment, a faint but curious thought has already crept into his head, if not also come along in search of a true answer. Just who was that mystery Trooper...?!

[gay-edwardian]

Iconic ABBA costume poll

Right. Kinda what it says on the tin. Pick your favourite or whichever you think is the best, don't worry too much about it. There are so many great/iconic outfits, I know I didn't get them all, I even left out some of my personal faves.

Photos for reference and some fun facts (if I know any) beneath the cut.

Mamma Mia

Fun facts:

The jumpsuit Agnetha's wearing helped her win the accolade "sexiest bottom in pop music," I title that would haunt her for years.

Owe Sandström, who designed the outfits, said the following about Frida's skirt: "This is truly mother-of-pearl sliced into thin slices, and it was just like the rooftop of a carousel. And I asked her, 'Frida, don't move too much because they would be stretching out and, well, expose perhaps a little bit too much?' I can tell you, she was spinning like a spinning wheel definitely all the time" Source

Waterloo

Fun Facts:

According to the photo book Frida saw a jacket in a shop window that "had chains and sequins and looked butch. I took Agnetha to see it and then the others. That jacket was the prototype for the Waterloo costumes."

Poor Björn could barely sit down in his pants because of how tight they were

Ring Ring

Wildflowers

Fun Facts:

These outfits were designed by Owe Sandström. Each of the four members has a different flower (some sources say specifically Swedish Wildflowers). According to the Web Shop, Agnetha has the hundkäx or cow parsley, Björn wears the columbine flower, Benny has a fictional heart-leafed flower (to reflect his  talent, creativity, and knowledge), and Frida's is (apparently) a kind of weed when seen under a microscope (however it may just be cornflower or some other type of wildflower)

Gold/White (Europe/Australia Tour)

I could've gone looking for a high-ish-quality, in-colour lineup that included the boys. But I didn't feel like digging for too long. Sorry. Take two pictures of the girls instead

Fun Facts:

Frida's shorts were shorter in Australia than they were in Europe for... reasons?

There was a costume change! There were multiple costume changes because they had hats and scarves and capes that they took on and off through the shows, but towards the end of each performance Frida and Agnetha would change into matching costumes and wigs for The Girl With the Golden Hair. One time while dancing, their wigs got tangled together and when they moved apart, Agnetha's wig came off.

Watch this performance of Why Did It Have To Be Me from the movie. It's not a fun fact or anything, Frida just does a really good job at. Everything in it. She totally steals the scene.

Blue Suits

Cat Dresses

Fun Facts:

Longer versions of the cat dresses were necessary for places that didn't like the fact that the normal versions were very. very short

The dresses happened because Frida reminded Owe Sandströrm of his cat, they "were both beautiful and a little wild"

Velvet Jumpsuits

Fun Facts:

They're wearing these in the Dancing Queen music video. It's hard to see because it's dark, but they are

Pink & Purple Suits

Ok so Björn's in blue, it's purple-adjacent

Live At Wembley

Fun Facts:

In the ABBA Official Photo Book, Frida says that "My favourite [outfit] was a body stocking with a little dress cut diagonally. I thought I was elegant and sexy in it." I don't know if it's these outfits, but it might be!

All-White Ensemble (no not that one, the other one)

They had a lot of all-white looks. These are the ones on the album cover for Arrival

[deleteddewewted]

Fanfic Idea Cause Krasuer Brainrot:

MDNI, NSFW

(My trans homies, please tell me if I should add any tags. I don't want to be insensitive to any of you.)

W: Homophobia, Internalized Transphobia, Tran! Krauser, Top surgery, No Bottom surgery, Fem! Reader, Doctor! Reader, Major! Krauser, Strap Ons, Masturbation, Kinda Unhealthy but also kinda cute relationship, Its Unhealthy, I have limited knowledge of the original RE series so don't kill, All of this takes place in 2004

So Krasuer FtM and he's always struggled with the idea of intimacy. He doesn't care to much about people seeing his top surgery scars, which can easily be dismissed since you can just look at the rest of his body and see the other scars littering it. Look at his face, there's no way anyone other than his doctor would be able to know.... hopefully. Times have changed, yes, but that didn't mean that people like him were accepted or welcomed. He's worked too hard to have his work be taken from him because of something so minor.

Anyways, he's overall pretty confident in that no one knows that he's trans and he's happy to keep it that way. That all comes crashing down when they get a new doctor. This doctor obviously has to read their files to catch up on their medical history and be it that his doesn't say that he was assigned female at birth, it does have the long list of surgeries he's had to have as well as his consistent use of hormones and hormone blockers. He tries to be nice to the doctor, play nice, make sure he doesn't yell at them too much or cross a line because they could so easily take everything away from him if they felt like it.

But the doctor doesn't do that. Instead, she makes it her duty to support him silently. She makes sure to remind him that he was medication ready to be picked up, she tells him about his checkups, reminds him to take care of his scars and ensures proper cleaning of any wounds or possible infection sights. She does it all without once telling him that she knows because that is not something for her to tell or force him to tell her about. She's his doctor as well as everyone else's and it's her job to have her patients best interests at heart.

Krauser starts to get closer to her. He's smitten with how much she cares and how she's made it easier for him to get the things that he needs. He gets annoyed when that rookie kid, Kennedy, starts hanging around her office more and more. Seems like the kid has a nack for getting hurt so he's always in her care chatting her up.

Eventually, when he and the doctor start fooling around, he starts to realize that he wants to do more than just make out and dry hump. He wants her to touch his bare skin and mark it. But its whats below his pants that bothers him. He doesn't have to think too much about his sex, he barely ever fucks and if he does its with strangers at a bar when he's deployed. But with her, he wants to be bare. He wants her to know. He needs her to know if she'd stay even while knowing that the man she is sleeping and seeing didn't have something that made him a "complete man".

He fingers her, fucks her in the dark with a strap on so she never knows (But she does know and she can tell because the silicone is cold against her skin not like a penis would be), and he eats her out like a man starved. He pushes their relationship further, he asks her to sleep in his courters because he wants to share his space with her. He starts to juggle the "buts" and "what ifs" if he should ask her to make their relationship official with a name or a title. Would she be his girlfriend? Would she be his partner? Maybe someday his spouse? What if she leaves him cause he's not whole? Would she even care to listen to him? Has he been lying to her for not telling her about him being trans? Did he lead her on?

All of it comes crashing down on him when one day they get into an argument and he pushes her away. They start to move their things around, her clothes and other items no longer in his courters and her scent slowly fading with each passing day she doesn't sleep in the same bed as him.

He's alone again, mopping in his own sorrows at what he lost and he gets injured while trying to save her from a fire that breaks out in the medical bay. He carries her to a truck and helps her help a young colleague of hers while barking out orders to his men to help the wounded. They make it to a hospital near the base and once she knows her coworker is safe she collapses, the adrenaline running out in her body. When she wakes up, she confronts him, asks him why did he close her out when she just wanted the truth.

"Where you seeing someone else?"

"No, why-"

"Then why push me away, Jack? I just wanted you to tell me what was wrong so I could help and instead you yell at me."

"I was scared."

"Of what?" He doenst respond he's silent. Instead he begins to unbuckle his pants and pulls them down so she could see. But she doesn't. She doesn't look down to look at what he wants her to look at. She keeps her gaze fixated on him as she slowly blinks and forms her thoughts.

"Jack, I've known. Ove always known." He doesn't know if he should scream or sob in relief. He's too conflicted for this conversation. It's too complicated.

He leaves and only comes back when she's discharged from the hospital. He picks her up and drives her back to base. He offers her his room to rest and recover. He makes sure to help apply her medication on to her burns and put on the compression sleeve for her arms and legs. He's there to take care of her when she can't.

And when she tells him that she misses him, he caves and begins to kiss her body. Her breasts are soft, her stomach ever the best part to squeeze, her hips there for him to grab.

He shows her everything about himself. She knew and she stayed and continued to stay. She kissed his pelvis and sucked on his clit, tongue flicking it over and over again all while rubbing his thighs. She fingered slowly at first before he complained that he wasn't a "damsel". So she fucked him. Watched him squirm thanks to her fingers and tongue on his cunt and had him shaking. He came on her tongue, her chin and lips covered in his release. He screamed her name as he orgasmed again and again and made a grab for her head to keep her close. His eyes were crossed and he felt weak all over. Fuck, she was good and she knew how to make him feel good. She was with him even though he wouldn't be able to fuck her in the way she deserved to be.

[thedeluluverse]

Summary: While you have been working for BTS for a little over a year, you and your boyfriend Taehyung have only officially been together for two and a half months. Everything is going well until he starts tagging along to your shoots with your other clients, Stray Kids.  Are his suspicions correct or is he seeing things?

Pairing:  idol!Taehyung x multi-group-photographerGF!Nari a.k.a. “Burning Film” couple

Rating: PG13

Genre: idol!au, mutual pining, angst, fluff, early relationship, jealousy, coworker!au, work crushes

Word Count: 1, 965

Warnings: angst, fluff, feeling insecure, slight teasing, jealousy,

Author's Note: Here is the "Burning Film" couple again! I have created an oc basically for this storyline of Tae named Nari who represents y/n! It isn't necessary to read BF first but it would help you understand what they've bee through already plus I am proud of it so if you do, let me know what you think! Also, we stan SKZ and Felix in this house so no hate, this was just an idea I've had for awhile. Enjoy!! :)

P.S.- yes I am going to go back into Burning Film and replace y/n with Nari but another time. I have work in like 6 hours so going to catch some sleep hopefully XD

The last three months have been much deserved bliss with your new boyfriend Taehyung; not only do you finally have the man of your dreams, but your work has garnered a plethora of attention earning you the title of official photographer for the kpop group Stray Kids as well! Tae is supportive of your dream but is having a hard time adjusting to you being away from him more than usual. Noticing his demeanor change every time you say you’re going to “other work”, you make a decision as you are getting ready one day.

Nari: “BAAABBEEE!!” – you shout from the bathroom as you put the finishing touches on your outfit.

Tae: rushes to you out of breath “Yes jagiya? Is everything alright?”

Nari: giggles and turns towards him “Yes silly, I didn’t scream fire or anything. Still cute though.”

Tae: kisses the top of your head “Fair enough but I just had to make sure, and you’re the cute one baby. Anyway, why did you summon me?”

Nari: blushes slightly Wellllll, I was going to see if you wanted to accompany me to the Stray Kids photoshoot today. I know it’s been rough having less free time together lately. If not I totally get if it’d be boring for you so no pres-“

Tae: interrupts you by picking you up and spinning you around “Oh I’d love to y/n that’s such a great idea!!! I’ve always wished I could see the magic behind the camera so this is perfect! I’ll meet you by the car in 5 minutes, you’re the best!”

You can’t help but chuckle at how puppy-like he could be, but it was endearing that he wanted to understand what you did for a living. In true gentleman fashion, he opens your door when you get to the SKZ location, carries your equipment inside for you, and even brings you a water and an easy snack for while you work. Halfway through the shoot, you tell the guys to take a 10-minute break so you can assess what else you need and so they can grab a snack as well.

Tae has been waiting nearby during the shoot in case you need anything, so he takes this opportunity to use the restroom and refill his water. As he returns he sees you talking with Han, Bang Chan, and Felix, which was fine until he heard Felix exclaim, “Woah Gracie, I love you for that!”. He doesn’t say anything, but he is not thrilled about the fact that he of all people has a special nickname for you. Before today he had no issues with the guy, so what changed? You and Nari will find out soon enough don’t worry!

The shoot comes to an end about a half hour later and Tae can’t help you pack up and get out of there fast enough. I mean, you can’t really blame him since y’all have been there for close to 5 hours but it’s not like he hasn’t had longer shoots. Guess time is more of a drag when you aren’t an active participant. In any case, after picking up a quick bite y’all are home bound! As soon as he puts the car in park you can tell something is different. He uncharacteristically grabs his meal and goes inside before you can even open your door. Chalking it up to him being hangry and missing Yeontan, you give a tired exhale and head inside.

As you kick off your shoes and scan the house, you don’t see Tae anywhere; you peak into the living room and his room because he likes to eat in there sometimes but still no luck. Assuming he must have something to work on after hearing him in his studio, you resign yourself to eating at the kitchen island alone with Yeontan peacefully asleep at your feet.

After eating, you shuffle to his studio door looking for some company, but your knocks are met with silence then a “C’mon Nari, can’t you tell I am busy right now? I’ll be out when I’m done, go watch TV or something aish!”. Tears pricking behind your eyes, you give a quiet “oh, okay sorry I won’t bother you anymore love…” before you walk away and curl up on the couch listening to calming lo-fi music as you try to quiet your brain. You didn’t do anything to make him upset as far as you can recall so unless something gets brought to your attention, you decide to enjoy the rest of your afternoon doodling in your notebook.

The sun has long set, and you can’t remember when you passed out on the couch exactly before you got awoken abruptly by the loud opening of Tae’s studio door and him stomping to take Yeontan on a walk. You are less in a daze when he comes back and are just looking up pleadingly at him only for him to bark out a “what?!” and in return you croak out an unconvincing “nothing” just for him to scoff at you. “Yeah sure, you’ve looked pitiful since we fucking got home. What’s the problem huh? Miss your strays?”.

You blink wide-eyed “what the hell are you talking about? You’re the one who has been in a shitty mood since a random point in the shoot. You wanna tell me what’s going on?” He sits in the big armchair near you, running his hands through his hair then gets up and paces for a good 3 minutes before sitting back down with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped; deeply sighing, he finally reveals the truth.

You sniffle, heart pounding in anticipation trying to look strong even though you were terrified you had blinked wrong or something and were about to be single. He takes a long sip of water then glares up at you, “So you wanna know what’s going on huh? Well, I don’t ‘knaur’ Gracie, what is going on?” Confusion shadows your features as you meet his eyes, “Why did you ask like that and why on earth did you call me Gracie???” He darkly chuckles and says, “Oh, is that an issue?” Nari rolls her eyes and says “Why are you laughing first of all? And it isn’t an issue per say, it just shocked me because you have never called me that once since we’ve met.”

Tae leans back in his chair manspreading trying to affirm his authority and explains, “Well, here goes and don’t you fucking interrupt me. If you somehow have questions, be a patient little cheater and wait until I’m done okay?” You nod in anticipation trying to stay strong and not react to his accusation yet. “Well, whatever name you’re going by, you are right. I haven’t been in the best mood, and it wasn’t a ‘random point’, it was when you had called for a 10-minute break. I had returned from the bathroom and saw you had relocated from our spot to near the Aussies and Han.”

You raise your hand giving him the grandest power complex to which he only tilts his head towards you beckoning you to speak. “You know I’m friends with all of them so why did seeing that turn you into a dick?”. Poking his cheek with his tongue, he clarified, “It didn’t turn me into a dick darling. I just don’t like people trying to take what is mine.” “Nobody was trying to take me you dumbass.” “Then why the shit does Felix have a special nickname for you AND said he loves you??” he slightly yelled with tears in his eyes.

As he hid his face in his hands, taking deep breaths to avoid sobbing, you were trying to process the words that just came out of his mouth. After stuttering and trying to form sentences, you explain the situation as he comes to sit next to you. Turning towards him and covering his hands with yours, you take a deep breath and bring him up to speed; “So the name thing first. Well as you know he and Bang Chan are Australian. So, them trying to say my first name just winds up in a 10-minute loop of aggressive ‘nauring’ you know? So, I decided to tell them my middle name and Bang Chan immediately fell in love with calling me ‘Gracie’ so only the Aussies call me that, for that reason only okay?” He cracks a small smile, “I guess that does make sense….. but why did he say he loved you?” You choke on air, and you ask incredulously, “Ummm when the hell did he say that?!?!”

He glances at the floor sheepish worried he misheard something now and is starting to feel like the biggest asshole to ever exist. “I dunno, I just heard him tell you ‘Woah Gracie, I love you for that!’ and just after the unexplained name thing it sent me spiraling.” You give a small smile this time and go “calm down tiger, I had just shown him a photo I had edited of him and hella fixed the lighting, so he was grateful because it was an important photo of him. That’s it I promise okay? I swear on Tannie!!”

It was his turn to go big eyed because he knew when you swore on a pet, you meant business! “Okay I believe you Nari I really do.” You breath the deepest sigh of relief ever until he interrupts with “But I do have one more question…” “Oh?” you question, “what’s up Tae?”. “Okay now don’t get mad, but are you sure there’s nothing there? I mean it seemed like there was some flirting, at least from where I stood.” “I mean I doubt he was flirting with me; he knows I am with you plus I double doubt you started a trend of fine Korean men finding me attractive.” you chuckle.

Suddenly his countenance darkened again in an instant as he backed away, “fine Korean men????” you gulp, “I mean, I didn’t mean fine fine, I just meant that I am a photographer, so I appreciate aesthetically pleasing things and people.” You say as you start to get off the couch, but he stands and pulls your hair getting you to look him in the eyes “So you aren’t attracted to him AT ALL then??” Tears form once again in your eyes as you explain yourself, yet again…”Okay so he maybe was my first SKZ bias, and you aren’t the first person to point out that he flirts with me a lot. I won’t deny that before we were together it was very nice, but I love you not him okay?”

There’s a long pause until you both sit back down, and he looks like he has seen a ghost, “wait…love me???” You chuckle, “Yes you idiot, lovingly of course!” He has tears in his eyes then asks, “Are you sure??? I mean, it has only been a few months and I know I’m taller, but my voice can’t get near his and I was an ass earlier…” “Hun, I agree you could’ve handled everything earlier better and come to me sooner and been upfront. But it doesn’t mean that you are inherently an ass okay? I don’t care that your voice isn’t just like his, I love your voice and it’s been my peace for years now.”

“Well, good points all around and I just…. I really am sorry that I freaked out so much earlier, I just love you too, so it lit a fire in my soul. I’m sincerely sorry and I’ll do better okay? I can’t lose you…”. You are both sobbing at this point and then while you pull each other into the most intense embrace, you reassure him

“You won’t”.

[angelsdevils]

Flufftober: Day 17

Title: My Human Word Prompt: Black Cat October 17, 2022

Flufftober Masterlist

Tag List: @kazenomegaminowanpisu @thisbicc @missmadness123 @chuuberrysworld

Title: My Human

Word Prompt: Black Cat

October 17, 2022

You shivered as the cold wind nipped at your skin. It was way too cold to be out, but having ran out of food, you had no choice but to go get groceries. It wouldn’t have been that bad if you didn’t forget your gloves. But now you are carrying bags with no protection for your hands. You sighed softly, but you stopped once you heard a small meow. You looked behind you to see a small black cat following you. You blinked several times before cooing at how cute he was. You leaned down and the cat rubbed against you and you smiled.

“Where is your owner? It’s too cold to be out here,” you said. You set your bags down and scratched him behind his ear. The cat let a tiny meow out, and you gave it a small smile. 

“You don’t have a collar, do you not have a home?” 

“Meow~” 

You opened your arms up and the cat lept into them. You held the cat to your chest and grabbed your bags.

“Well, I guess I will take you home with me. Does that sound good?” 

The small black cat started to pour and sniff your face. You smiled and started to walk faster to your home.

Once you arrived, you unlocked the door and put down your newest addition. The cat ran into the house and you locked the door behind you before putting your groceries up. 

After all of that was done, you grabbed a small bowl, and poured some milk into it. The cat came into the kitchen and went to the bowl before starting to drink it. You pet his head and watch him.

“What should I name you? You need a name,” you mumbled to yourself. You sighed softly before standing up. You walked out of the kitchen, and the small cat followed you. 

“I will think when I wake up… I need a nap.” 

“Meow~” 

“You want a nap too? I guess you can sleep with me. Come on let’s go pretty baby~” You picked up the cat and carried him to your room. You set the cat on your bed, before changing into your pajamas. The cat watched your movements, before watching you lay in bed. The cat curled into your side after you covered up and you pressed a small kiss to his head. 

Feeling the warmth of your home after being in the cold, it didn’t take long before you fell asleep. The cat looked up at you gently before falling asleep as well. 

You woke up after a few hours, feeling really warm. You weren’t sure where the heat came from, and your mind was hazy. You rubbed your eyes, before officially opening them. You turned your head to the side before seeing a male you didn’t know smirking at you.

“Morning princess.” 

You instantly fell out of bed, after noticing he was shirtless. 

“Who are you?” 

“Heh? What do you mean?”

“I am sorry but you heard me. Who are you? And how did you get into my house?”

“You let me in.” 

“No, I didn’t, I don’t even know you.” 

“Right, well, maybe this will jog your memory…” He said before a puff of smoke surrounded him. Suddenly a black cat was staring at you. You blinked several times before screaming. The cat turned back into his male form, and quickly covered your mouth.

“Shush, before the neighbors think you are being murdered. I won’t hurt you, you took the time out of your day to help me.” 

You blinked several times and he slowly removed his hand from your mouth. 

“Okay, but can you get off of me?”

“Eh? Why? You are warm.” He laid against your chest, and you blushed.

“Well you aren’t a cat, and you are naked. Please, get off.” 

“Right, I forgot I should put on clothes. But I don’t have any.” 

“I may have some from when my brother used to stay here. So please get off.” 

He nodded and got off of you, and you stood up. You went to the spare bedroom and rummaged through his old clothes. The cat-turned-male followed you and stood in the doorway.

“So, what is your name?” You asked and he hummed.

“Kuroo Tetsuro… so can I stay here with you? You are technically my owner now.” 

You turned to him handing him clothes and blushed to shake your head.

“I can’t own you, you are a person.”

“Correction, half cat - half human. I can turn any time I want, and you took me in.”

“But…” 

“So, you don’t want to be my human?” He asked tilting his head. He looked really sad and your eyes widened.

“I mean, if you don’t mind,” suddenly Kuroo perked up. He tackled you onto the bed, and you squeaked out. He nuzzled your chest, ignoring the clothes that had fallen to the floor. He turned back into a cat and curled onto your chest. You laughed softly and stroked Kuroo behind his ears and he started to purr. 

“My kitten, you can stay as long as you want,” you placed a small kiss on the top of his head. 

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted etc. I do not own the character, but I own the plots to these stories.

[satashiiwrites]

messy draft monday

plugging away. Goal: finish this fic by mid-July.

Tagging for a messy draft monday @monsterrae1 @quietborderline @tkwritesdumbassassins @outtoshatter @missanniewhimsy @rosieposiepuddingnpie @whimsyswastry @tiny-reader and anyone else who wants to play along.

Graphic by me.

Title: Choices and Regrets, chapter 11: Hostile Merger

Fandom: 911, Dark Matter

Pairings: Buddie, Buck/Eddie/Buck

Fic summary:

If you could go back and change the choices in your life, would you?  Would you love the same people, go on the same vacations, have the same career? Or would you have regrets? After the lightning strike, an unexpected visitor makes Buck question all the choices he’s ever made. From dropping out of the Seals to never making a move on Eddie because the time hasn’t been right. He’s going to get an up close and personal look at what could have been because another version of Buck is focused on taking his choices away from him—including Eddie and Christopher Diaz. 

Tags/warnings: dark themes, dubious consent, explicit sex, kidnapping, murder, major character death, drug use, identity fraud,

Putting beneath cut for description of panic attack

Hen’s hand on his shoulder is firm as she shakes him awake. 

“Hen?”

“Get your boots on. We’ve got a call.”

“I didn’t hear the bell,” Eddie argues, still half stuck in the dream where he was begging Buck to try again. 

“It didn’t go off,” Hen says ominously, already leaving the bunk room, so Eddie stumbles after her, boot laces undone. 

“We’re officially offline,” Bobby says as he packs into the captain’s truck with Hen and Eddie, taking the driver’s seat. Eddie is in the back seat with what feels like half their medical bags.  

“Offline?”

“Chim is staying behind as captain, and replacements are being sent for the rest of our shift.”

“Wait—what’s going on?” Eddie’s confusion spikes and unease settles in his stomach.  Something bad has happened. 

“We’re being asked to help out the LAPD,” Bobby explains without details.

“To do what?” Eddie presses. 

“I’m not sure,” Bobby hedges.

Eddie’s stomach rolls.  He remembers Buck talking about being called out to Chim’s accident. Ravi’s on shift covering for Buck’s absence so that leaves only…

“Buck?”  His lover’s name leaves his lips like an explosion, the ‘ck’ hard and sharp as Eddie sucks in a breath that feels like it’s coming through a straw.

“You’re going to see him,” Bobby stresses.  “Buck is supposedly fine.”

“Then why—“

“Wait until we get there.  Athena didn’t give me a lot of details.”

“Then why all the medical bags?” Hen asks, her face creased in concern and eyes darting back to Eddie from the passenger seat. 

“Because we might need them,” Bobby says unhelpfully. 

“Might need them, Bobby—“

“Athena said Buck is conscious and not bleeding,” Bobby firmly cuts off Hen. 

“That leaves a lot of details out,” Hen carefully picks her words, catching Eddie’s gaze as she says them. 

Eddie feels like he can’t breathe.  Not again.  Not after the last time. Not with how they left things between them. 

“Eddie, breathe!” Hen barks and then she’s climbing into the back seat with him, causing Bobby to swerve dangerously before correcting. 

Spots dance in Eddie’s vision.  Buck.  He needs to call Buck. 

“Eddie, breathe!” 

He can’t.  He needs Buck.  He has to get to Buck…

The sharp crack of Hen’s hand connecting with his face wrenches his head to the side from the open palm connecting with his cheek. The suddenness of it stuns Eddie and he sucks in a breath, his ribcage too tiny for his lungs to fully inflate. 

“Eddie, Buck’s going to be okay.”

“You can’t promise that,” he manages to get out as he fumbles in his pocket for his phone. “I need to call Buck.”  

“No calls,” Bobby barks from the front seat.  “Athena said no calls.”

“Why would she—you know what, nevermind.  Step on it Bobby,” Hen growls. “Buck better be in one piece when we get wherever we’re going or I’m going to glue him back together.”

“Glue?” Eddie’s brain latches onto the fixing part.

“If necessary,” Hen qualifies as Bobby steps on the gas. 

What passes is the longest fifteen minutes of Eddie’s life. 

Longer than the three minutes and seventeen seconds of CPR it took to restart Buck’s heart. 

His anxiety is mixed with confusion when he realizes Bobby drove them to his house.  “Bobby?”

“Get inside.”

Eddie all but tumbles out of the truck, yanking the med bag with him and jogging to the front door with Hen and Bobby on his heels.  The front door is locked and he pounds his fist once on the door before Bobby grabs his hand and yanks it away. 

“I have a key,” Bobby reminds him before shoving Eddie to the side as his feet seem cemented in place. 

Read current published chapters here on AO3