#and she chuckled and said ‘oh maybe I dunno’ sort of brushed it off

[gynecologistmsfrizzle]

older butch lesbians, living happily as butch women, who say “if I were a kid now I would have been a trans man instead of a lesbian” are a whole lot closer to being trans— not ‘potentially’ trans, not ‘might have been’ trans, but really, actually, literally, trans, in their present lived experience, she/her and all— than they are to being transphobic. but I don’t think any of you are really ready for that conversation.

[beesonhoneytoast]

“I’m hopeless without you.”

♡ Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader ♡

synopsis: on his day off, mike hears that you were involved in some freak accident at work. he wastes no time in getting dressed and driving to your workplace. however, when he calls you, something bizarre happens. cws: hurt/comfort, established relationship, mike being a narcoleptic mess and a disaster pansexual (?), crying, confusing dreams for reality

~800 words | divider creds @firefly-graphics

Mike runs out into the living room, putting on his shirt as he rushed out of his bedroom.

Abby is lying on her stomach watching cartoons but turns her head at the sound of her big brother shuffling around and panting. “Mike?” She called for him.

“Y/n was involved in an accident. I don’t have time to call anyone to watch you, so get your shoes on. We’re going to find them.” He explained, hopping on one foot as he put his shoes on. He grabbed the keys as Abby slipped her little Mary Janes on. 

The two Schmidts went outside and Abby rushed to the backseat on the passenger side of Mike’s car. 

Mike got the front door of the house locked after a moment (as trying to do anything with trembling hands is understandably very difficult). Mike slammed on the gas after hurriedly backing out of the driveway, and he pulled out his flip-phone, selected your number on it, and put it to his ear. Every time, however, he was sent to voicemail. He left a message every time he was. 

“Y/n, it's me, Mike.” 

“If you're alive, Y/n, please reach out if you can.” 

“Please Y/n, I- I'm hopeless without you.” 

“Okay. The third time wasn't the charm, neither was the fourth. Maybe the fifth time will be the one? I dunno. I have no idea if or when you'll hear this, but... Ever since I've known you, I've felt... So at home. You're the only person I know who seems to care about me, and- I… I can't lose you. Please.” Mike said into the phone.

“Mike?” Your voice came from the receiver, laughing slightly.

Mike’s heart nearly leaped out of his ribcage. “Y/N?!” He shouted. He was so alarmed because your voice sounded perfectly okay. “This- isn't some sort of prank, right?” He whispered in denial. 

Your airy chuckles came crackling over the phone. “Mike, I'm okay. I'm at work. I just went on break and saw you were sending me like, three or four voicemails. Is everything okay?” You asked him seriously now.

Mike pulled over on the side of the street and teared up in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair after putting the car in Park. 

Abby was very confused by this entire situation. She was looking out the windows with her brows scrunched. “What's going on, Mike?” She asked. 

“Ah, I hear a certain little girl is there with you?” You teased. 

“Yeah, uh…” Mike mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen, I- I have no idea what happened. I just heard you were in danger and I panicked and didn't think things through and-” 

“Oh, Mike. I'm coming over to you. Are you out of the house already?” You asked.

“I'm… right next to your work building, actually.” Mike chuckled breathily. 

“Ah, I see. I'll be right out, okay?” You told him. 

“M’kay.” He muttered, sniffling slightly, causing you to frown. 

“I’ll see you outside.” You said before hanging up. 

Mike pulled into a parking spot in front of your workplace and you walked right out the front door and trotted towards his car. He couldn't believe it. 

There you were, perfectly fine and alive. You got in on the passenger side of the car. “Hi, Mike.” You greeted him softly. 

And just like that, the man crumbled, and tears spilled. He hid his face in his hands and his shoulders shook with each sob. 

“Oh, come here, buddy.” You cooed, unbuckling his seatbelt and hugging him over the console between the both of your seats. You pet his messy hair softly. Clearly, he had been in a rush to get here to you, for he didn't have the time to brush his hair and get himself tidy. “It's okay. I'm here, I'm okay, I'm alive.” You whispered reassuringly, holding him to your chest as best as you could in this awkward setting of the front seats in his car. 

Eventually, you had all gotten home and you made dinner, as you felt obligated to, considering you unintentionally scared Mike that day. 

Once Abby was sent to bed, Mike revealed that he had a dream that you had gotten into an accident at work, and to him, it felt so real that he believed it was reality. 

“I’m so sorry that happened, baby. Dreams are so weird.” You told him, hugging him for the nth time that night. 

Mike had a special little spot under your chin and on your collarbone where he could just bury his face into. He whimpered softly, holding your shirt in his balled fists. 

You kissed his forehead softly as he relaxed in your arms, moving his head down so it was now in your lap, resting against your thighs and using them for pillows. You played with his hair and hummed softly, the quiet sound of your singing gently lulling him to sleep, and soon you found yourself joining Mike in the realm of dreams.

>> end.

story written by @beesonhoneytoast. characters belong to five nights at freddy’s © 2014

[moralesmilesanhour]

Hi! May I request a small fic where miles 42 dates a male reader who's very bubbly, glittery, fashionista, and dresses in very bright colors or pastels. Maybe Rio and Aaron finally get to meet him and try their best not to tease or laugh at how ironic it is?

They find it even funnier knowing he's the who's been stickers all of his jackets or just anything that came out of his room.

Got carried away with this one oopsie

take it or leave it.

Miles peeled off his dark green puffer jacket, brushing off stray rain drops that hadn’t evaporated yet. In doing so his fingers ran over something smooth like plastic. Already knowing what it was, he took his forefinger and thumb and removed it.

The face of a rabbit with an ‘x’ for a mouth stared blankly at him. Miles held it up to the light and smiled to himself as little dots of color shifted from orange to green, having a good idea who it was from.

You liked to slap these things everywhere–anywhere–that you could reach. Though you never explained yourself to him, Miles suspected that your reason was the same as his when he spray-painted the walls of abandoned buildings: to make your presence known in a world that seemed set on ignoring you.

Your bleach-blonde curls, pastel shirts and flared pants made you quite difficult to ignore in the first place.

Even Miles, who hid beneath his hoodies and oversized jackets, couldn’t take his eyes off of you from across the basketball court that fateful day as you sat on a bench crowded with your friends. They were dressed just as elaborately, but not with nearly as much variety of color.

One girl draped head-to-toe in black lace and silver jewelry leaned over to whisper something to you. Whatever was said made you turn and meet his eyes just as he caught the basketball that had just sunk through the net above him. 

He froze momentarily and could’ve sworn he saw you grinning at him before he started dribbling again.

You were too far away for Miles to commit the details of your face to memory, but he recognized the blonde sitting at the top of your head when you rammed into him in the middle of the hallway the very next day.

Now in full uniform–save for the fashionably-loosened tie–his eyes were drawn to the row of helix piercings lining your right ear, and the faint glow of metallic eyeshadow swiped across your lids with lashes that curled sharply upwards like–

“Yo,” your voice brought him back to reality. “Are you okay? I said ‘my bad’.”

Miles blinked.

“Oh,” he replied dimly.

You laughed good-naturedly.

“Just ‘oh’?”

“I-I mean,” Miles stumbled over his words, “You’re…good. I guess.”

“That’s…good,” you parroted with a teasing smile. “See you around!”

You pulled the strap of your book bag further over your shoulder, causing the cluster of charms and trinkets hanging from it to click-clack together with every bouncy step you took as you weaved through the stream of oncoming students.

That was how it began.

“I think he likes you.”

Sela took a bite of her french fry, which she then pointed towards the next table ahead of her. You followed her line of vision right back to the mismatched eyes that had burned two holes into the back of your skull in the hallway. 

And P.E. 

And A.P. Bio. 

The more you thought about it, the more your friend’s hypothesis began to sound believable.

Still, you shook your head and chuckled.

“He’s definitely straight, first of all.”

“You don’t know that! What happened to not assuming?”

“Hm, I dunno…”

You looked again. This time, Miles was fiddling with the sleeves of his uniform, avoiding eye contact. Presentation aside, you’d never really seen him running with the sort of boy that said “Pause!” every five minutes, so that was a plus.

…Then again, you’d never seen him running with anyone. He even hooped alone. You recalled him making several lay-ups in a row as clean as the twin braids that brushed his shoulders. No team required.

Sela interrupted your quiet deliberation.

“Go talk to him and find out, then. Not like he’s gonna kill you if you ask.”

She tapped her long black coffin nails on the lunch table, awaiting your answer. 

“I don’t feel like getting up,” you groaned lazily. 

“Fine, I’ll call him over.”

“Hey, wait–”

“Aye, Morales! Miles Morales!”

Miles looked startled. “Huh?”

Sela waved at him while you ran your palm over your face.

“C’mere!”

He eyed her suspiciously, but slowly got up and shuffled over to your table.

“Do you…” he looked around. “Need something?”

The girl gestured enthusiastically towards you, and you rolled your eyes mentally before replacing the irritation with a smile and taking the lead.

“You looked lonely over there, man. Come sit with us!”

Miles bit his bottom lip once you spoke up, appearing to take in a sharp breath before taking the empty seat across from you.

“So do you have any, like, actual friends–? Ow!”

Sela rubbed her arm after you gave her a good smack.

“Sorry about her. She meant to ask if you were doing alright. You seemed kinda out of it.”

“I’m…fine,” he answered slowly. 

“Well, that’s good. You were staring at me somethin’ fierce, I thought I had done something to you.”

Miles felt a rush of heat travel straight to his cheeks.

“N-nah, it’s just that–well, I saw you at the basketball court, and…” he trailed off and began messing with the end of one of his braids.

You leaned in closer to hear him better, which didn’t help his situation.

“One more time?”

“I saw you. At the basketball court.”

The teasing grin returned to your face.

“Yeah, I saw you too. What about it?”

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, trying to piece the right words together. Then he tried again.

“I liked your ‘fit.”

You held back an obnoxious snort of laughter. 

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, you have…good…fashion sense.”

Miles wrinkled his nose. He didn’t even believe his own lie. Why would you?

Mercifully, you narrowed your eyes but didn’t say anything. 

“Thanks. You got good taste in sneakers.”

You paused, then added, “Meet me at the basketball court after school and I’ll show you how I put my outfits together. How's that sound?”

The offer hung in the air. Miles considered the possibility that you were just pulling his leg and that he’d wind up standing alone in an empty court, but there was no sign of a joke in your expression. 

He shrugged in a fake show of nonchalance.

“Sure.”

The two of you went on like that for two long months. Meeting each other on the court, sitting on the bench and making light conversation while shooting compliments at each other that always just missed the mark of what you really meant to say, until one day you finally got tired of meandering.

“Miles, can I ask you something?”

“I dunno,” he answered, sipping on a pouch of Capri-Sun. “Can you?”

“You promise that if I ask, you’re gonna give me an honest answer?”

“If it won’t get me arrested, sure.”

“Miles, I’m serious.”

Your gaze intensified, making his heart rate quicken.

“Alright.”

“Are you into me?”

His blood ran hot and icy cold at the same time. 

The thumping in his chest whenever you got close and he could smell what soap you used, the absent-minded doodles in his sketchbook, and finally, the staring, had been given a name. And in being named, it took on a physical form - something blinding and liquid that shot through his bloodstream.

Miles wanted to be able to say no. Give a straight answer, and move on to a more comfortable topic. But you’d read him like a book the last time he tried to lie to your face.

You noticed his hesitation, and the vice grip he had on his now-empty Capri-Sun.

“It won’t change anything, I just wanna be sure.”

He looked unconvinced. How do you just go back to normal knowing that your friend is in love with you? They could pretend nothing had changed for maybe a couple weeks, maximum, before conversations became clipped greetings in the hallway, then fizzled out into nothing. Impossible.

But again, it was no use lying.

He avoided your eyes as he answered, “I think so.”

Cold, delicate fingers suddenly found themselves beneath his chin, and his eyes widened as you turned his face towards yours.

“Miles, look at me. You either do or you don’t.”

His heartbeat was in his ears now, making his breaths shallow and the veins in his eyes pulse. The setting sun cast a sentimental glow over everything that filtered through your hair. No one else was around, save for the warm breeze.

“Miles, are you good–?”

He pressed his lips against yours before he could stop himself. Your lips were smoother than he’d expected, just slightly tacky with mentholated lip balm.

And, more importantly, they kissed him back. 

-

Miles grabbed his sketchbook from his desk drawer and opened it to a page filled with tiny sketches of your outfits. Carefully, he placed the sticker next to the baby blue puffer you’d worn yesterday so that the two of you could be “twins”.

He should really call you, he thought.

-

You sighed, leaning your head back on the couch beneath the cool air-conditioning of Miles’ uncle Aaron’s apartment. The tall, lean man that you’d guessed Miles had probably gotten his accent from (and sayings that could only come out of the mouth of an older man) had gone out momentarily to grab food for all three of you. 

Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to your now-sort-of-official boyfriend with a questioning look.

“What?”

Miles was holding back a laugh.

“Why’d you switch up like that in front of my uncle?”

“I didn’t ‘switch up’ anything.”

“I have never heard you talk like that in my life.”

You copied his pose, slouching and man-spreading with your hands resting on your thighs. You flattened and lowered your voice into the boring monotone that teenage boys liked to adopt when they wanted to be taken seriously.

“You mean like this?”

This earned a snicker from Miles, whose expression then became earnest.

“Seriously, though, you don’t gotta do the whole act around my unc. He’s not like that.”

“Then why do you do it?”

The boy paused. 

Your observation was correct - Miles tended to lengthen and smooth out his stride when he walked next to Aaron on their ‘grocery runs’. He would remove the playful lilt in his voice, like when you strain freshly-brewed tea, leaving only the mellow liquid behind. 

“That’s…different.”

We’re trying to impress him for two different reasons.

You let it go. 

“Whatever you say. You are gonna tell him about us, though, right? Since he’s ‘not like that’.”

Miles scoffed, “You’re the one that introduced yourself as ‘a close friend of mine’. I ain’t tell you to say any of that.”

“I wasn’t sure if you felt safe!” you laughed.

“We were holding hands before he even opened the door, he definitely saw that shit.”

“Alright, alright, you win. We’ll both tell him, then. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

-

“Miles! Tu novio!”

“Coming!”

Miles padded over to the living room, where you stood in a bright yellow jacket covered in vibrant patchwork, and those jeans with the spray-painted stars all over them. Your hair was hidden beneath a red beanie you had stolen from his closet.

Aaron sipped on a fresh cup of coffee in the kitchen, well-within earshot as Miles greeted you.

“Hey.” The boy smiled, awkwardly sticking his hands in the pockets of his plain, dark-wash jeans.

His mother Rio shut the door and looked on in amusement at the two boys standing in front of her. You would think her son would add some more color to his wardrobe, being with someone that looked like that. But the all-black ensemble wasn’t going anywhere.

“¿Ustedes dos siguen fingiendo ser amigos?” the woman teased. “I’m not sensing any affection over here, guys!”

Miles gave his mom a blank stare, while you laughed. Even months later, the other boy wasn’t one for PDA.

“Oh they real affectionate, alright,” Aaron chimed in. 

“Here we go…”

“I go out to get these boys some Domino’s one time, right? I come back up, and these two are cuddling on my damn couch after they told me they were ‘just good friends’. Now mind you, I ain’t believe ‘em for a second–”

“That’s great, unc,” Miles was already tugging you in the direction of his room, “We’re leaving now!”

“Don’t get too touchy in there!”

Once inside, he shut the door behind him. You struggled to suppress a laugh at the weary look on his face as you sat on the edge of his bed.

“She’s kinda right, y’know.”

“About?”

“It wouldn’t kill you to spare me a hug or something, once in a while.”

He said nothing.

You scanned Miles’ bedroom. All of his manga had been cleared off of his desk, and his swivel chair was no longer burdened with a pile of clothes. He just cleaned his room, you think.

The only thing left sitting there was his notorious sketchbook, a ballpoint pen, and a couple of Tombow markers scattered about. 

And of course, your stickers. 

You got up to take a closer look at the loose sketches and hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re really good at getting clothing folds right. You sure you never wanna study fashion design?”

He smiled, and shook his head.

“I’ll leave the fashion shit to you.”

“We could go to F.I.T. together, you and me.”

Without so much as making a peep, Miles and his long legs had snuck up behind you to wrap his equally-long arms around your waist.

“I’ll visit you.”

“What are you doing?”

“You asked for a hug.”

“That’s not what I mea–”

“Take it or leave it.”

The smell of paint and Jergens lotion enveloped you as you pulled him closer. You inhaled deeply, then sighed.

“You’re real stubborn, you know that?”

His chest shakes as he laughs.

“One of us has to be.”

[vsakaa-fanfiction-drawings-hcs]

(I... cannot be stopped atm 😆)

Naww, this is a nice one- I promise. Our little spider is getting ready for a date!

TW: Swearing.

"Chawlie! Open this door right now! It's an emergency!" cried Angel, banging on the other's door with haste. "Come on, now's not the time to be fucking around!". The door opened a while later, the blonde princess rubbing her eyes.

"Angel... I was nap- ah!" she yelped, as the spider pushed into her room and began pacing.

"Shut up. Right, as you know- I've got a date tonight, but- I've got nothing to wear!". Vaggie yawned as she sat up in bed, watching Angel and Charlie.

"Dude, you seriously burst in here about a date?". Angel glared at Vaggie, before hugging himself.

"I put this on" he uttered, gesturing to the rather sexy dress he was currently wearing, before sighing. "But he doesn't want me in it... said some bullshit about dressing how I want to. This is how I want to! I don't-". Charlie, who had woken up slightly and now understood what was going on, walked over and gently grabbed Angel's hand.

"Is it though? We've seen how happier you are when you're covered up, maybe that's what Husk means?". Angel chewed his lip, before pulling away and looking to the floor.

"Maybe... I dunno, but I ain't got the goods... Val- I'm not allowed to own stuff like that". Charlie swallowed down the building rage at that, before smiling.

"Well then, time to go shopping!" she exclaimed, grabbing a brush so she could sort out her hair. "Give us a couple of minutes to get ready, Angel". Angel blinked, clearly confused. Shopping?

"Ughhhh, really babe? Can't this wa-" started Vaggie, cutting herself off when Charlie gave her the stare. "Ah... pparently not...". Sigh. "You're lucky I love you so much".

"Wait wait, what's going on?" asked the spider, gasping when he was ushered out the room. "Hey... I'm talking here".

"Can't have you watching us change" remarked Charlie, shocked when that elicited a slight blush from the other, before chuckling and shutting the door. A few minutes later, it reopened and out stepped the pair- all dressed and ready to go.

"Took ya long enough" mumbled Angel, hugging himself again; back to wearing his normal clothes. Poor boy, he seemed so worried and anxious.

"Well, someone was upset with their hair" replied Charlie, smiling again.

"Hey, this bow has to sit perfectly" answered Vaggie, rolling her eye.

"Anyway, let's go! To the shops! To find you the perfect date outfit!" declared the demon princess, clapping her hands before dragging Angel down the hall in her excitement.

"Ah! Fucking- where are we going?" cried Angel, stumbling from the shock. Vaggie sighed and followed closely behind, eventually making it to the front and holding the door open.

"Shopping!" sang Charlie, bursting through the door with the spider in tow. "Now, what type of thing do you really wish to wear?" she asked, finally letting go of the poor arachnid.

"Uh... " replied Angel, tugging his glove back on. "Whatcha mean? I like to wear whatever".

"What did you wear up there?".

"Oh, um... suits? I've got a gimp su- ah!" exclaimed Angel, as he found himself being escorted once again. "Chaw-".

"Suits! Oh my Satan, that's perfect!" said Charlie, rushing down the street with Vaggie running after her.

"Wait up, Babe, and maybe let go of Angel? He's gonna end up falling over at this rate". However, Charlie was far too focused in her mission to notice this- as she continued to race down the street. Suddenly she screeched to a halt, outside a quaint little shop and squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Angel sighed, spreading his stance wide to stop himself from tumbling from the sudden stop, before running a hand through his hair.

"Fucking hell, princess... you've got some lungs on ya" he remarked, smirking as Vaggie appeared in the distance. "Ya left your girlfriend in the dust".

"Can we take a moment?" asked Vaggie, eyeing Charlie who was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Oh, in here?".

"In here!" yelped Charlie, once more grasping dear Angel.

"Fuck-!".

"Oh, Augustus?" called Charlie, blinking when Angel hissed at her and pulled away.

"Did you just hiss?".

"No, anyway- can ya stop just dragging me? It's kinda annoying, Toots".

"Sorry, sorry sorry- but just you wait!" exclaimed Charlie, her eyes twinkling as a horned demon stepped out from the curtains.

"My Satan, I haven't seen you in a while, Princess. How's the suit holding up? Didn't I tell ya red suited you?" said the other, tilting his head 180°. "My my, I take it you're not here on just a friendly visit this time?".

"Augustus, I love my suit, and I was wondering if you had anything for my dear friend Angel!" chirped the Princess, shoving the spider towards the other demon.

"Ah! Would you knock it orf?" hissed Angel, brushing himself down. "Sup, sugar, got anything for these legs? I'm prime real estate, babe".

Blink "Angel. Dust. A star in my shop? Well now, this is a surprise".

"I'd say the real surprise is that you know him".

"Vaggie, babe, everyone knows me".

"Hmm, I might have something. I cater to all shapes and sizes, I'll return" informed Augustus, disappearing behind the curtain again.

"I'll be here" cooed Angel, glancing at Charlie. "Oi, royalty or not- I'll fucking smack ya one if you keep grabbing and dragging, got it?".

"Sorry, I'm just so excited for you! You're going on a real date, with someone who isn't an abusive jerk! I'm happy for you, Angel... plus, Augustus is going to make you look amazing!". Angel swallowed at Charlie, shocked by her words.

"You're happy for- well, that don't excuse being tugged around".

Nod. "Sorry".

"... you're happy for me?".

"Of course, Angel... I've seen what that Valentino guy has done to you, and how different you are with Husk".

"Yep, you light up when you see him, dude" said Vaggie, crossing her arms.

"I do?" asked Angel, blushing slightly, before jumping when Augustus burst through the curtains.

"I have it!! The perfect suit" he cried, holding up a plain white three piece. "Slip this on, and it'll do wonders!". Angel stared at the blank canvas, frowning, before getting nudged by a certain someone.

"Trust me on this" she uttered, grinning when the spider took the garment with an eye roll.

"White... okay, that's new- but I'm trusting ya Princess" he mumbled, starting to get changed.

"Oh deary me, no! Over there, over there" worried Augustus, ushering the arachnid towards a changing cubicle.

"Huh? Oh, I thought I just- okay, okay, I'm going!".

Charlie sighed, holding Vaggie's hand. "He just- right in front of everyone".

"Probably isn't allowed privacy, babe".

"So... uh, ta da?" questioned Angel, as he stepped out in complete white. "I... I like the fit?".

Squeal. "Angel! It looks amazing!! But you haven't seen the best part!!" stated Charlie, being hushed by Augustus.

"You'll ruin the fun" he said, smirking at Angel. "Now, think of a colour my dear boy".

"Huh? A colour? What is this, fucking- tell my fortune? Why would I-" started Angel, stopping when he spotted Charlie. "Okay, okay- think of a colour...". Unbeknownst to him, as Angel was thinking, the suit began to change in hue- to a deep hot pink with black accents. He looked gorgeous! "Maybe... why are you staring at me like that, Char?".

Vaggie pointed to a mirror with a smirk, watching as the spider turned and gasped. "Holy. Fuck. I- I-" he stuttered, tears welling up after a short while. For the first time, in a long time, he liked the reflection that was gazing back. He liked the outfit. The colour. The person in that mirror wasn't a cock-sucking whore, it was someone about to go on a date. "Magic suits, huh? Now that's sexy" he chirped, slipping his mask back on and turning to everyone. Pose. "I look so fuckable! Yeah, baby".

Augustus chuckled, clapping. "Now now, I wouldn't say that. But this pink certainly suits you, brings out your facial features".

"Angel!!" yelled Charlie, who's voice had finally recovered from the shock, as she rushed over and hugged her friend. "You look so handsome! Husk is going to love it!".

"Uh... thanks doll" uttered Angel, petting Charlie's head as he looked back at the mirror. Small smile. "Thanks for everything".

[smolweeblets]

Raze working on her new nades/ making more and reader starting a paint fight with her?

Bring it on, pretty girl

A/n: I rushed this a little since i loved the prompt so much, i hope you enjoy reading it because i definitely did while writing it!

The loud clinking and clanging and sounds of explosions reverberating through the protocol hallways at 6 in the morning were unmistakably Raze’s. Since well, Killjoy was usually more… methodical with her tinkering and well, no one else is as passionate with their tech to be working with it this early.

You hated to admit it, but it was getting pretty annoying. You've barely woken up and youre already hearing explosions going off from her workshop. Doesn't help that your room is the closest to it. You always feel the explosions despite the soundproof walls and being woken up by them is not fun, especially after intense missions.

You groggily clamber down to your girlfriend, hoping she would tone it down. However unlikely that may be.

“Hey Raze, morning.” You greet.

It takes a few seconds before she registers the sound of your voice and swivels her chair to your direction.

“My love! So great of you to join me this early! Sorry for the mess, I was working on my nades before you came in.”

You chuckle lightly. “Yeah, I could tell, you know between those deafening headphones and all these explosions that you do im very surprised you aren't going deaf at this point,”

A few seconds pass before you quip. “Are you sure you aren't a radiant with magical ears or something? I could swear non-radiants would already have gone deaf.”

“You know I wonder the same thing myself, and maybe, I dunno.” She shrugs.

You make your way towards her and look at her desk.

It was… pretty untidy to say the least. There was paint splattered everywhere, in basically every nook and cranny, even almost completely covering the various paint brushes she had that were standing in an old mug she never used. Several cans of paint were open and some were dangerously close to the edge, pretty much a spill waiting to happen. Although, a spill wouldn't really do much, since the floor was already covered in paint as well anyways.

“You seem to be working hard, seems fun.”

“It is! Even better now that you're here!”

“Cheesy as always. Corny as well.” You smile as you playfully roll your eyes.

“Wouldn't have it any other way though.” You coo as you pinch her cheek softly. But you quickly retract your hand and apologize because her cheek was now smudged with (more) brightly colored paint. You must've not noticed resting your hand on her desk at one point.

“Hey! No fair, I haven't had any time to react to that.”

“It was an accident babe, I wasn't–” You felt paint splatter across your face before you could even finish and open your eyes to see Raze’s hand covered in the colorful substance.

“Oh well, skill issue. But we're even now, so it's fine.” She shrugged while smirking.

“Wait, timeout, isn't this stuff toxic or something? I don't want to go to Sage and explain that we got sick because we were playing with paint.”

“Nope! I use non-toxic paint when I'm experimenting with my nades ‘cuz I hate wearing a mask for the normal stuff all the time, it's sort of less colorful but gotta be healthy to save the world you know?”

“Hm. In that case,” You dip your hand in a can and hurl a glob of paint toward your girlfriend.

“I said it was an accident, but since you want to fight…” You grin at her, knowing what you're getting yourself into.

“Ohohoh you are so on!” She smirks grabs a can of paint and runs behind her chair to duck for cover before flicking the paint to you.

You dodge it, but barely.

You sprint to get behind an old dummy before realizing you forgot to take a can of paint with you. You scan the surroundings before realizing all the paint was around the area of the desk, which was about a meter away and guarded by Raze.

“Shit.”

Raze’s cover wasnt really all that good, but she had the advantage of having easy access to all the paint. If only you could get your hands on maybe just two cans…

“I think you forgot something~” Raze taunted. Seems she was aware of your predicament.

“Fuck you”

“Hehe maybe, when we inevitably have to shower after this.”

You scoff as you blush at her teasing.

“Trying to make me flustered wont work, you can try harder than that.”

Your ears prick as you heard the chair roll. Was she trying to get closer? You peek quickly but go back for cover, a splat of paint whooshed dangerously close you your head. But you did see Raze advancing towards you. Damn she put those words to heart.

You had to get moving, and quick.

You peeked the opposite side of where Raze was and thankfully she didn't have a projectile ready just yet. It seemed that there was enough leverage for you to grab some of the paint if you ran fast enough. But going back for cover wouldn't be easy, and knowing your girlfriend, she'd be ready with paint on hand.

“Oh gatinha, you shouldn't have started this, you're fighting me in my own territory!” Raze was enjoying herself a lot. You would have smiled if you werent fighting for your life.

“I told you it was an accident, and I was not going to let you just slap paint on my face and go unscathed.”

“You should have, since you're fighting me with a clear disadvantage~”

Your eyes narrowed. It was now or never, and you weren't going to go without a fight.

“You talk a lot.” You suddenly dashed towards the desk and get your hands on the cans of paint.

Raze smiled at the easy target. But you weren't caught unprepared. You dodged the projectile aimed for your torso, it only hit a little bit of your hip and the paint can instead. You quickly ran back to your cover while Raze was reloading more paint.

“Heh, you just got lucky, but it's no matter since I'll be defeating you all the same anyways.” She said smugly.

“Watch your words Tayane, I'll be making you eat them.”

“Well see about that, Y/n.”

“And so we shall.”

You emerged from your spot to hurl a handful of paint towards her.

It hit!

Your victory was short lived however, because she was standing, and prepared. She used an old blueprint from her desk to block most of the colorful projectile.

A bead of sweat dripped down your temple as she grinned.

A big glob of (f/c) paint hit you right in the chest, making you gasp.

It was quickly followed with a barrage of small splatters made by Raze flicking her fingers at you. It was effective, as agile as you were you could not dodge most of it. You were forced to go back to your cover.

“Aw, retreating already? I loved the look of fear on your face~ and I chose your favorite too! Such a shame you went to hide so fast~”

“Okay first of all, that's kinda kinky, second of all,”

You swiftly and quietly sneaked behind her, not being detected until you removed her hat and spoke again.

“That was only half of my plan.” You dumped a generous amount of paint over her head.

You swiftly step back right before she tries to smack you with a handful of paint.

She dramatically gasps. “How dare you! Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean my hair.” She looked at you incredulously.

“Ahah, but you told me you were going to remove your locs today, so you'd be thoroughly cleaning your hair today either way.”

She grimaced when she realized you actually remembered that.

“Oh don't be too mad, I'll be helping you out anyways.” You squished her cheek again, getting even more paint on it this time.

“... You talk a lot.” Paint splattered all over you as Raze grinned.

It was your turn to grimace this time. You quickly responded with a flick of paint of your own however, and followed it up by pushing her chair out of the way, wincing lightly as it clattered to the ground.

You hurled another big glob of paint towards Raze, but she blocked it with a cutting mat just in time.

“Fight me without all this hiding, you coward!”

She tossed the cutting mat at you and followed it with a large portion of paint.

“Your wish is my command.” She bantered while running to a more open space. You followed. Although not without having to weave through a paint projectile.

You both posed like you were in a wild west showdown, holding a paint can in one hand and the other one was pointing finger guns at the opposite person.

~~~

The fight went on for about an hour or two, both of your loud giggles causing the protocol to witness two crazy people throwing paint at each other and giggling maniacally first thing in the morning. You only stopped when a can of paint was running low, which made you try to flick the remaining paint out of the can and onto Raze, but accidentally tossing it at her square in the forehead instead.

You apologized and rubbed the affected area before finally having the suggestion to finally stop, and thankfully she agreed. Not without threatening you to kiss her though, because of course she wants a kiss after you both were trying to murder defeat each other. She pouted when you gave her a light peck, but you smacked her shoulder lightly since you both were still literally dripping in paint.

Stopping at that time was a good idea, because just a little more and Brimstone would have checked in on the noise you two were making. And god knows you didn't need to have him mad at the both of you again.

The both of you retreated to Razes room to shower. Agreeing to end the fight in a draw, since the arguing that would ensue over who was victorious would definitely have Viper wringing the both of you by the throat.

“That was… fun.” You softly murmur. You both were sitting in the tub, most of the paint was rinsed off already, so thankfully the water didn't look like rainbow soup.

“Very! …Although I do not see myself doing that again. I dont think ill be ready to look at my workshop later… or for the whole week for that matter,”

She lightheartedly sighs. “Contrary to popular belief, I actually do not enjoy having paint in literally every corner of my workshop. And on me.”

You snicker lightly as you pat her back “Dont worry, ill help you… probably.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Well you sort of woke me up with all your explosions so early in the morning, I actually went to you to tell you off, but uh, as you know I kinda got carried away. I'm actually pretty tired right now.”

“Oops, only a little sorry about the distraction, but I guess I will try to tone down the tinkering in the morning.” Raze sheepishly chuckles.

“I'd appreciate that greatly.”

“Here, let's get out of the tub so I can work on your hair. It looks like a unicorn mane right now.”

“Hey! Yours doesn't look much better, but yeah lets do mine first.”

[minty-malfoy]

“would you still love me if I turned into a worm?” | blurbs

🌱 pairings: reader x blaise zabini, cedric diggory, draco malfoy, fred weasley, george weasley, harry potter, hermione granger, luna lovegood, neville longbottom (sorted in alphabetical order)

🌱 warning tags: language, probably

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Blaise Zabini

“A what, now?” your boyfriend asks, halting the movements of his quill to look up at you; brows furrowed as if it’s the most absurd thing he has ever heard in his entire life.

“You know, those wiggly things that—”

“I know what worms are, (y/n). But what the hell?”

“Dunno,” you shrug. “I’m bored.”

“So you thought about what it’d be like to turn into a worm?” his eyes narrow out of pure bewilderment, blinking once, twice, as he finally turns back to his unfinished essay. “Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours.”

“Not my fault you’re taking so long with that assignment,” you grumble as you begin to shift on the puffy couch, feeling somewhat annoyed by how cold and empty it is without the other boy in it. “And besides, you love me.”

An amused chuckle escapes his lips. “Can’t say that I don’t.”

“Even as a worm?”

“Will you stop asking if I said yes?”

You nod happily, giving him the answer he needs— or well, wants, really. Even though Blaise couldn’t quite understand the pointless question, he knows it’s significant to an extent.

“Yeah, alright. I would. Now give me five minutes and we can get out of here. Deal?”

A glint of satisfaction flashes through your eyes as you give him a hum in return, thinking to yourself that maybe the silly questions could be more useful than you thought.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Cedric Diggory

The moment the words leave your mouth, Cedric's first reaction is to laugh. He didn't mean for it to come out in a condescending way. He hadn't even meant to laugh, to begin with. But judging by the way you pout with both arms crossed, that might just have been how it came accross.

"I'm sorry," he offers sheepishly. "you were saying?"

"You heard me. I said what I've said," you grumble, despite not being genuinely upset at the hufflepuff boy you've grown to love.

"Wait, I need to get this straight," he takes another breath of air. "You're serious?"

"What do you think?" you pout once again, turning away slightly from your boyfriend. This only seems to ignite his amusement as much as it does his guilt. A second or two later, his arm finds its way around your shoulder, the other brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear.

"You really haven't figured it out yet?" he asks with a genuine grin on his face. You begin to eye him curiously, appreciating the charm of his pearly white teeth as you wait for the boy to go on. Soon, he pulls you into his lap where his arms craddle you lovingly.

"Sunshine," he begins. "I'm surprised you still have to ask. But if that's one way of putting my love for you, then yes. You'd be my favorite worm in the entire world."

"Promise?" you present your pinkie finger as a final means to seal the deal.

With one last chuckle, he wraps his fingers around yours. "Promise."

Everything that happens next is a flurry of innocent pecks and kisses planted along your skin, coupled with the security of two warm arms holding you in place.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Draco Malfoy

"And what exactly do you expect me to say to that?" comes his first response after a long moment of trying to figure out just how in Merlin's name your mind came up with that question.

You, on the other hand, can't help but giggle at the slytherin boy's confusion. "Whatever's on your mind right now will do."

"Well, to be honest with you, I can't quite stomach the idea of my own girlfriend turning into a bloody worm." he nearly spits the words out, softening his edge only when your eyes meet once again. "If you were expecting a different answer, I suggest moving on to the next bloke."

Draco wasn't lying about that first bit. Worms have always been an insignificant, unseen creature in his world; wiggling in the muckiest of places where they could easily be stepped on. Hence, he doesn't like to imagine you—someone so perfectly ethereal and quintessential in every single way; the only source of light shining into his pathetic excuse of a life—to be compared to a dirty worm, of all things.

"That doesn't mean I don't love you, though," he adds in a bit of a guilty tone; voice much, much softer this time. He brings your hand to his lips, dropping a few kisses on its skin. "I just much prefer having you as you already are."

You snuggle deeper into him, indicating that you already know exactly what he means.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Fred Weasley

“A worm!” Fred exclaims, nearly forgetting the food on his plate altogether. "What a brilliant idea!"

A few seats away, you can already see Ginny clamping her mouth shut as to not burst into fireworks of laughter. You mirror her gesture, eyes now on Fred once again, watching him announce this idea of yours to your entire group of friends.

Ron, who's not that thrilled to see his brother's public displays of affection, lets out a groan. "Wouldn't have asked him that if I were you."

"You think so?" comes your reply. "He seems to be having a lot of fun with this." you both glance at Fred, who is indeed already coming up with some sort of thrilling plot.

"Did you hear that, George?"

"Sure did, Fred."

"I reckon we could come up with a potion for that," he muses, turning back to look at you. "Give me a week or two and we can start living out that worm dream of yours, love."

"Wait, Freddie, you're getting it all wrong," you begin explaining, tugging on the boy's sleeve slightly to keep his attention on you, "It was just a silly little question. I don't actually plan on turning into a worm or anything like that."

At this point, you half expect his enthusiasm to die down from the grounding effect of your words. In reality, it doesn't.

"S'that so?" he replies, earning a nod from you. "Looks like you're missing the bigger picture to me, (y/n). Isn't that right, George?"

"Right you are, Fred." the said boy affirms. "Sorry, (y/n). I'm with him on this one."

With a sigh, you turn back to Ron, who's busily stuffing his mouth with a look on his face that says I told you so. You shake your head with a small smile at your boyfriend's shenanigans. You're not sure how you can both dread and anticipate the day of his worm adventures.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

George Weasley

"That's a new one," he asserts with an amused laugh. The boy rests his head against one of his palms, feeling instantly intrigued by your proposition. "Now tell me more about this worm business of yours."

"That's about it, actually." you admit sadly.

George frowns at this, wishing he could hear more worm stories and whatnot. Mostly he's just happy to see the way you talk about things passionately. Makes him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside in a way he can't ever get enough of.

"That's quite alright. I'll do the talking, then." he offers, rubbing his chin to think of what to say next. You light up in your seat, eyes wide in anticipation. Now it's your turn to eagerly wait for his response once again.

"I've got an idea. We could run off and start a new life— as worms!" he beams all of a sudden. You raise a brow for him to go on, not exactly complaining about your boyfriend's excitement towards the topic. "I'm only turning into a worm to make sure I can properly take care of you, of course. Wouldn't want to—er—squash you between my big human fingers, now do we?"

You both erupt into a chorus of laughter at the conjectured image, melting into one another like two fitting puzzle pieces. When you finally catch your breath again, you pose the main question once more, "So I'm concluding you're still going to love me, then?"

"Love you?" he repeats. "Oh darling, I'll be marrying you in a grand worm wedding!"

You can't hold back the gasp that escapes your lips, more than thrilled to have the first mention of marriage between you. Not too long after, you transform into a complete fit of giggles when George continues. "Then we'll happily live our worm lives, 'till death do us apart. Or when, you know, some bloke accidentally steps on us. Whichever comes first."

You lean into him lovingly to steady yourself after all the laughing. Taking a deep breath in, you mumble a soft, "You always know how to make me laugh, Georgie."

And the truth is, he wouldn't have it any other way. Worms or not.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hermione Granger

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand the point of this question."

"Which part, exactly?" you inquire, watching your girlfriend pull out another book from the wooden library shelves.

A few seconds pass before you get your answer. "You're not a worm," she states simply, eyeing you up and down as if to prove her point.

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out, 'Mione," you follow her to the next section. "Which is why I said if I turned into a worm."

The girl looks at you again, analyzing your words and expression briefly before coming to another conclusion. "I still don't understand." she pauses to think. "Unless you might be interested in becoming an Animagus? Even then, opting for a worm wouldn't be very... effective."

You roll your eyes, speeding up to block the girl's way. She lets out a non-committal "Hey!", only for you to quickly muffle it with a warm kiss. A moment or two later, you pull away with a smirk that makes her heart melt. "Just answer the question, would you?"

Still slightly caught off guard from the contact, Hermione finally caves in. "Alright, you cheeky flirt. I love you. Even as a notional worm."

Satisfied with her answer, you plant another peck— this time on her cheek, before announcing a gentle "I love you, too."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Harry Potter

The way his lips purse into a straight line tells you that Harry doesn't exactly understand the question. Not really, at first. Aside from being an entirely foreign concept to his ears, it also seems like an odd thing to ask someone, unless— "Oh! You're an Animagus!"

The smile on your face instantly drops at this. "What? No—"

"Why didn't you just say so, (y/n)?" he begins what—at the time—you don't know is going to be a nearly endless ramble. "I was planning on telling you this for a while now, but I know someone who's an Animagus, actually. In fact, I think you two would get along fantastically!" he lights up at the sudden idea, flailing his arms in the air out of excitement. "Yes, maybe I can try getting the both of you to meet up. No promises, of course, but what do you think?"

"I think you've got it all wrong," you frown; knowing you would have to disappoint your boyfriend and how you're not very fond of the idea.

"What do you mean?" he asks, albeit barely giving you a second to reply. "(y/n), it's alright, really. You know you don't have to hide yourself from me. Besides, I think it's brilliant!— what you can do, I mean."

The smile he gives you is the epitome of love itself, and now you're not quite sure how to handle the messy situation without pulling out the rug underneath Harry's feet. All you can do is squeeze his shoulder with a guilty smile, promising to talk about it again after dinner.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Luna Lovegood

"Of course. Worms are lovely, don't you think?" she says with a dreamy smile. You gape at how easily the answer could be pried from your girlfriend; no questions asked. But then again, it's not like you hadn't expected this exact outcome already.

"Really?"

"Mhm," comes her gentle hum as she begins to stir her honeyed chamomile tea. A soft smile stays glued on her features, as if she's enjoying the conversation. "What kind of worm would you like to be, (y/n)?"

"I haven't really thought about it that far," You admit. "Are you sure, though? We won't be able to hold hands or anything like that."

You can't tell if you had just imagined the almost-frown tugging on her lips, because when she looks back up at you again, her sweet signature Luna smile is back in its place. "I suppose you're right. But I could carry you around everywhere with me. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

"It would be," you nod. "but can a worm even fit into that pocket of yours?" you question, noticing how hers are stuffed with unknown items; blades of grass sticking out ever so slightly. Flowers, perhaps.

"Oh, there's nothing to worry about. See?" she pulls out a couple of daisies and fairy foxgloves to reveal a now empty pocket. "Now, would you like some tea?"

You eagerly join her on the table, snuggling against your girlfriend ever so slightly as you both begin to talk about your day. The entire worm ordeal is slowly slipping out of your mind already.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Neville Longbottom

Neville stops in his tracks at your question, taking a moment to toss the idea back and forth in his mind before he can give you a proper answer. You nearly giggle when his face scrunches up, brows knit and lips parted as he innocently asks, “But why would you turn into a worm?”

"Neville, love, no. It's a hypothetical question."

His entire body relaxes at this, releasing what you assume is a breath of relief. "Oh. I thought you were being serious for a moment there."

You shake your head with a giggle, taking a step closer to adjust the scarf around your boyfriend's neck. "I'm just curious is all. Would you still love me, then?" you ponder.

"Yes! Of course!" comes his instant reply, hands balled up into fists that match the determination on his face. "I would get you a nice worm house with all your favorite flowers in it," he bends one of his gloved finger inwards, beginning to keep count of this hypothetical to-do list. "Would you still be able to have human food? Well, either way, I promise to feed you every single day!"

He pauses, only for a second or two. "Oh! And I'll sing you worm songs! Or maybe we can sing them together? I don't know if you would still be able to talk as a worm though."

You swiftly pull him into an affectionate hug, effectively bringing his rambling—as well as the entire worm topic—to an end. His hands sheepishly find their home around your waist, where he places them softly as if it's his first time hugging you. After all the months of being together, it certainly isn't.

"What was that for?" he dares himself to ask, avoiding your eye contact shyly.

"For being the most loving and adorable boyfriend I could ever ask for," you lean in to plant a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek. You don't miss the way he pulls up his scarf to hide the blossoming blush afterwards.

I have no idea why I wrote this either lol <3

🌷 draco taglist: @arossebyanyothername @kawaii-angelanne @thefandomplace @yuosmi @bbeauttyybbx @mywellspringoflife @slytherinsunrise @avatarbeeb @scarlet-says-hi @lunars @coldlilheart @beiahadid @justmimithings @soundsquid27 @youknowiloveyou-so @n3ssm0nique @ochrythum @explxsion @yaanasluv @autumnpleaves @booksmione @drxcomvlfx @the–queen-of-hell @aspiringsloth20 @runninglownad @snitches-at-dawn @badfvith

🌷 harry taglist: @teheharrypotter @badfvith

[kthynes]

the caller you have reached (chris evans x reader)

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

summary: chris was trying to drunkenly call the woman he loved and wanted to get back with but instead he reaches you, a shrink.

warning: swearing (sailor level), brief mentions of mental health

**IMPORTANT disclaimer: I won't be dabbling into the hard hitting topics of mental health in this short only because I'm not a certified health professional and so I can't be providing a written, unbiased, often characterized diagnosis towards any sort of mental health disorder because really, those types of sensitivities need proper care and output. With that being said, I do want to emphasize the notions of seeking help and not being afraid to seek help when needed. It's hard, but we all fight a battle and no battle is big or small or better or worse.

If my followers or readers do feel the need to privately chat with me, I'm here and I can you lend you an ear. Otherwise let's be kind and uplift another while we can. No harm in doing good and being better, that's for sure!

-end rant-

This short is dedicated to the following lovelies:

@princess-evans-addict

@mrs-djokovic

@slut-for-chris-evans

@saltyflowermakertaco

@bitchyslut99

@patzammit

@itskikiyooo

@maximeevansblog

Being a working adult is dreadful but the work you do is the most fulfilling kind of anarchy. You are a therapist, you work to heal and you work together with people who willingly reach out to you and your facility of care. There is that balance, the altering nuances in between that allows you to do what you do best. You advocate for good prosperity of mental health and accolade of teachable moments that fosters a safe space for your clients, not patients, but the people who deserve to be heard and not be medically categorized.

Your salubrious passion keeps you grounded. In your lifetime, you've seen the imperial impacts of poor mental health and it has been a detrimental drive in how you retreat and give back to a small found community.

"Okay." You exhale to yourself while leafing through another client chart. You're working off the clock, stuck in the renaissance of your homey office space while the outside world turns pitch black.

In the appropriate fields you jot down important takeaways from your last sit in session with heavy concertation and reasoning, you try to congregate a treatment plan all before you cellphone cries for you in venturous fashion.

"Hello?" You answer without checking the caller ID, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder so that way you could work and talk.

"Jenny!" The man boisterously shouts. "Jenny baby please talk to me! Let me make it up to you, let's just do this right, please. I'm fucked up here."

"I'm sorry but you have the wrong number." You infringe sounding like the posh, automated answering machine lady.

"Oh what the fuck Jenny — oh cah'mon don't do that, don't be like that baby." You re-verify a local number and it doesn't belong to anyone you know of. So you wonder who this man is but choose not to press further instead you tell him what is right from the knowing wrong.

"I'm not Jenny."

"Seriously?" He yells, forcing you to hold the phone away from your ear. "That can't be... This is—" He recites the number that is similar to yours but the last two digits are off.

"You got 42, not 53." It's an easy mistake to recall, a swipe of a drunken thumb could've mixed that up, so this time around, you're forgiving. Not that it happens often.

"Oh no. That's—" The mystery man trails, something about his voice discerns you, it's familiar but in a hindbrain way that you can't put a finger on. "Fuuuuuuuck."

"Wait hold on, hold up, is this Jenny's assistant, Nina?" You exhale sharply sometimes it takes more than one try and a side of convincing to get your point across and your passiveness was certainly to blame.

"No I'm not her assistant either."

"Then who the hell are you?" He exasperates. You make the snide mistake of telling him your name and he buffers for a bit.

"Oh. So you really aren't anyone of my concern then?"

"No." You mildly retort. "I wouldn't want to be anyways."

"Okay well I'm not sorry then because I'm here trying to reach my girlfriend and I can't get to her because I have you on the line being a smartass." With that accent of his you can tell he's a patriotic Bostonian. One of your own kind and that furloughs your need to engage in this mindless drivel, it wouldn't get you or him anywhere. At least that's what you tell yourself before shutting him down.

"Well then maybe you should learn to listen first, how about that?" You snap, dropping your pen before you note down angry nonsense into your actual work.

"Hey nowwww!" He yells as if he's trying to be Hank Kinsley.

"It's clear that you're drunk."

He brushes you off on the other end, enigmatic in what he wants you to know. "This is Chris Evans, you're talking to Chris-motherfucking-Evans, you hear?"

"I do now." You say tersely.

"Good." He huffs. "Good... Cause you know I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and this is what I get. This is what I seemingly deserve, god you women I swear..."

Your face changes. You don't agree to be a lending ear but somehow Chris forces you to hear him out.

"I told her Y/N. I TOLD her that I wasn't ready to take the next step but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her. And now she throws it back in my face by getting with some other guy she once dated back in high school. And somehow, I'm supposed to be ok with it and move on, as she tells me. How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?"

"I, um, I don't know what to tell you." You sigh somberly.

"Of course you don't!" His Boston twang begins to nerve you as there some remitting frequency of it. Hearing him obnoxiously go off, reminds you of all your shrewd New England exes who were his exact counterpart when soused. A ludicrous memory that you relive again with time and perfect harmony.

"Listen lady all I'm saying is that I fucked up. I know I did alright? I mean it doesn't take much denominational math and the plot of Lost in Translation to get that. I get it!"

Jesus. You whisper the lords name in vain as you lean your forehead against the palm of your hand while your elbow rested on top of the desk.

"So, let me get this straight, you think yelling at a random woman will help get further?" You question a little acutely for his liking.

"I don't know but it sure as hell takes off the heat, sweetheart." Something about a man calling you sweetheart grinds your gears and now your molars.

"Okay, alright, let's talk." You begin, sitting up a bit and tearing out a blank page from your memo pad; you were doing a late night consultation, a small hash out.

"Schuwaaaaa." Chris enunciates the word sure and to much of his mayhem, he’s sprawled out on the curbside, somewhere in the nowhere land of L.A. He contented but also upset and you were simply crashing his little pity party.

"What is it that you want from Jenny?" You professionally prod. "How about we start there."

"Wooooah, what is that we're doing here?” Chris gets mildly defensive with you. “I dunno you like that. If we're gonna talk then you'll have to get through my publicist first because right now I plead the fifth.”

You exhale a deep and fulsome breath. No one troubles you like him. It's sanctimoniously unnerving.

"I'm a shrink, my job isn’t meant to incriminate my clients well-being, or anyone else’s for that matter.” You address calmly. “So, if you do require some solicited advice then we can keep this call under strict confidence. You have my word, Mr. Evans and the paperwork that will follow shortly after this call.”

Silence. There is some shocking silence which is brief before you're catapulted with disbelief and more cackles. "Holy mother fucking shit. You're kidding me?"

"I can run you by my credentials if you’d like?” You mention stiffly.

"God I’ve reached a cuckoo hotline!" Wrong. That's a horrible thing to say and you'd think a man like him would've been more sensitive about his choice of words, inebriated or not.

"Far from it."

"Tell me something, alright? How many grown, adult men come crying to you?" Chris is edging with curiosity even though his eyes are betrayingly reddened after crying into a bottle of Dewars 18. He doesn't make that known to you and you never cared to ask.

"Enough to know that they cry." You simply state.

"Huh. So this is just another Tuesday for you then.” Chris scoff, the bottle making it to his lips and then swishing back down again.

"Comes with the territory except I don't tolerate drunkenness." You motely add. "Can you keep the bottle aside for the time being? Just until we're done here."

"That's understandable and oh yeah sure, sure, I won't touch it." You can hear the glass bottle 'clink' when coming into contact with the pavement.

"Now tell me about Jenny." You softly inquire.

"What do you wanna know? How we fuck or how we met?" Chris giggles like a naughty school yard boy.

"How did you two meet?" You slam the words urgently, nearly spelling out the cause.

"Oh! Oh. We met on the job." Chris chuckles punitively.

"Okay and did you guys connect instantly or was there a slow build up?" You involuntarily took notes for any PR rep of his that wanted solid evidence that would preside this call, cover your bases and your poor ass along with it.

"Instantly. Our chemistry read was off the charts." He explains with a slight hiccup. "Sorry."

"Great. So it was more so a work relationship that later grew into something more correct?"

"Pretty much."

"So when did you start developing feelings for her?"

"Um I'd say..." Chris tucks his chin, burps and then excuses himself before continuing. "Just before we wrapped up filming. But then I think somewhere in between all that I realized that she was my kind of girl, my... better half."

"And what made you come to that realization?"

"Well for one she has this infectious laugh that would have you laughing with her, there's that sound of beauty and pureness to it. And then with that, there were all the little things she'd do for me that made me think, like damn she's the one, she's it for me and that for better or for worse, I'd need her more than she'd ever need me."

Chris gets sad and you feel for him. Your pen stops moving when you were about to prescribe him some mind memory exercises. He was human. Humans hurt. Humans make mistakes. Humans stray but they also love. That's all Chris did. He loved with all of his heart to not expect the same love in return.

"You know Chris, we don't always get the love we deserve and sometimes its sucks. Sometimes you wanna kick it back with a bottle of Dewars 18 and shake your fists in the air." Chris quietly perks up at your choice of alcohol that you didn't know he was forcefully downing. He fashions a small half smile that you don't see but hear faintly. "But there's also a time and a place and things happen, people come apart, people get together, people do people and there's that fine line of letting life run its uneven course."

"I mean you sometimes have to not be okay to be okay again and I know that from my many years of helpful healing. It gets okay, never fully better and I think that's just how it is. You acknowledge your pain, your trauma and then you go on while being mindful of that transition."

"Wow."

"Hey, um, look, I actually have to get going. But if you can, just down the rest of that bottle and get yourself home."

"Are you sure?" Chris gawks.

"I mean you were already halfway through and it's not like I can physically stop you, right? And besides this is what I'm prescribing to you. I want you to acknowledge your pain, drink away your sorrows and then smash that bottle so you can be relieved from that trauma and hurt. After that you need to fix up and start new, have a mature conversation with her, if you can and then have your feet hitting the ground again. Don't fall into the routine of heartbreak even if it becomes too hard, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good." You sniff and start to put things away. "I know you're a good guy Chris, from how you are on TV and in interviews, I'm amazed by how articulate you are. You have the right mindset so I have no doubts that you'll fall back in any way. But if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out, I might have to hand you off to another cohort but nonetheless it can be worked out even if it does feel like you might be sparring on your own. You'll get the help you need."

"Great, thanks." Chris responds in his conscious state of thought. He feels pathetic with himself and that doesn't have you galling over the fact, instead you let him be.

"Do you need me to order you an Uber? Cab? Call a friend for ya?" You laugh easily and Chris hears it clearly, smiling in return.

"An Uber would be nice. I'll try to share you my location."

"Sure, on me and that'd be great."

"Thanks."

"No problem... And your ride should be here in two minutes, just look out for Raul in black Elantra." You inform him after checking your phone.

"Nice."

"You have a goodnight now Chris."

"You too." The line cuts and you're given a piece of your life back. You gather your belongings, flip off the light switch and make your way home. There's some truth and some brokenness in every situation. You knew Chris was going to be OK even if he didn't consult you afterwards. For you, there was no need. He's a smart man and he proves this over a prolonged period of time when he finally finds himself back on the market and then eventually in a relationship with a faceless and very loving woman from his own hometown.

He was finally happy, making you serendipitously glad that you were the caller he had reached.

[sillyfeathers]

Theory (Prentiss & Reid x Reader)

Theory Characters: Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, reader (platonic) Prompt(s): I used to be ticklish when I was little, but I think I’ve outgrown– shihit!!” Warnings: fluff, profanity Words: 894

Bless your evil teammates, and curse the way they make you so happy.

A/N: *throws another criminal minds fic out from my hole in the ground * a gift

“I used to be ticklish when I was little, but I think I’ve outgrown– shihit!!”

You swatted at Emily’s hands, doubling over as she latched onto your sides, practically shouting in delight at your reaction.

“Oh, this is great, you’re almost worse than Spence!”

Your attempted protests were overcome by a snort as Emily managed to worm her fingers between your ribs, hardly dodging your flailing fists that were coming dangerously close to her face.

“With all due respect, I think any of you would be worse than me at just about anything.” Spencer’s declaration, clearly unaware of what he was walking into, distracted Emily enough for you to dart away, wrapping your arms around yourself as residual giggles left your lips in short spurts. Your laughter wasn’t helped by the regretful look that dawned on Reid’s face as he put the puzzle pieces of a very smug Emily and a very dishevelled you together, and he couldn’t seem to find the words to defend himself.

“I dunno, maybe we should test that theory,” Emily said, her attention, unfortunately, still very much on you.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, but I appreciate the offer,” you replied, tilting your chin towards her as you pulled yourself together and your natural stature returned.

“She has a point,” Reid added, the upward tilt of his lips adding a mischievous tone to his voice. “I wouldn’t want to lose my reputation around here.”

“I think you actually would like to lose that part of your reputation, Spence,” you teased, hiding the nervousness you felt at the prospect of being targeted by both of them.

“So, you consent to being a part of this…test?” Spencer asked. It was clear to all three of you that the question was very much rhetorical, and if your mind hadn’t been so scrambled by the sudden turn of events, you might have been able to figure out an escape plan. 

But Emily was much too quick, practically having been waiting for her chance ever since Spencer decided to get involved. You let out a rather undignified shriek as she wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, and you had to fight the urge to reflexively double over.

“If Hotch sees you guys assaulting me you’ll get in so much trouble,” you spluttered, your feet scraping fruitlessly against the ground as you attempted to run out of Emily’s arms.

“I wouldn’t be worrying so far into the future, Y/N,” Emily hummed, curling her fingers underneath the hem of your shirt. You practically launched yourself back into her chest, giggling as her nails drew messy patterns against your skin.

“Reid, bahack off,” you said, hoping you didn’t look as small as you felt, instinctively curling back into Prentiss every time her fingers twitched.

He pursed his lips and cocked his head in a ‘no, I don’t think I will’ sort of way, his fluttering hands finding your neck first. Your shoulders were up to your ears within a second, but Spencer was somehow faster, his hand darting every which-way, so that no matter where you jerked your neck, he would always be on the other side. 

“Spehence –” your protests were cut short by a strangled snort as his free hand dropped to your ribs, and you could feel Emily shake with laughter. She’d mercifully stopped tickling you, but her hold remained firm, and her hands resting by your sides served as warning.

“Hm?” The hand at your neck was tickling so gently it was almost tender, Reid resting his palm against your jaw as he spidered behind your ear. In contrast, his other forefinger and thumb were pinching up and down your ribs, the remaining three fingers leaving ticklish scribbles in their wake. You hardly knew how to react, instinct completely taking over as half-choked laughs and yells poured from your lips. At one point, when Spencer found a particularly bad spot close to your side, you jerked back with such force Emily stumbled, and her grip on you tightened, her fingers accidentally curling into your sides.

“HEHEY!” you shrieked, and you felt Emily’s head resting on your shoulder as she doubled over, unable to contain her laughter at your reaction.

“Awh, I think we should let them go, Spence,” she chuckled, hands sliding up your sides in a way that made your whole body shiver, letting out a tiny giggle as you finally pulled away from the two of them.

“Evil shits,” you muttered, glaring at them, the ghost of a smile still playing across your lips. “Reid’s still worse. Your theory’s bullshit.”

Reid almost looked like he was going to lunge at you again, but Prentiss quickly stopped him in his tracks with a deft poke to his stomach. “You’re both too ticklish for your own good, actually.”

Spencer huffed, brushing Emily’s hand off of him and holding his own out towards you.

“Truce?” he asked.

You scoffed. “Truce? You’re the only one who got to attack –!”

“Y/N, shake the man’s hand,” Prentiss laughed, shaking her head..

You took Reid’s hand with an air of suspicion, but any real panic instincts that had kicked in were long gone by now. It had left behind a feeling far more warm and safe, and you knew that Prentiss had known she was doing exactly that since she’d seen you smile.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  

Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

//

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’

“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”

//

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

[dainty-fingertips]

a forever thing. ||kars x fem! reader

wrote this one a few weeks ago bc a friend said i should write something with kars,, ended up being too long and i don’t think she ever finished reading it;; also, spoilers for if you haven’t finished battle tendency !!

word count: 2233

summary: training alongside caesar and joseph, you end up being kidnapped by the remaining two pillar men after the death of esidisi. a closet bookworm, you end up spending most of your time cooped up in the library of the rundown hotel, though most of your time is spent thinking of the leader himself. after kars drops some undeniable hints, you decide to test the waters.

trigger warnings: none :)

||

          Being taken for a sort of ransom by aztec gods wasn’t exactly on the agenda today. 

          After Joseph had killed Esidisi, the remaining two were -- as expected -- on edge. Wamuu, the youngest, and Kars, the eldest. You could grasp a fleeting understanding on why they chose you specifically, but nothing enough to make complete sense in your brain. It could have been Caesar, it could have been Lisa Lisa, but no. As of now, they were treating you quite well, actually. You figured Wamuu was the only reason you weren’t bound by rope and eating out of a dog bowl right now. Instead, you were perched upon a plush reading chair in a rundown library, clad in a comfortable robe (thanks to Wamuu, you weren’t stuck in your sweaty outfit from before). You had planned on touring to Switzerland one day after the war, but being trapped inside a rundown hotel with no real access to vitamin D was really taxing your health (mentally and physically) and never intended to be something you spent your time doing while here.

          In your rough-skinned hands, you held a worn copy of In Search of Lost Time. Your reading comprehension had improved over the past few weeks, at least. A rough knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m here.” You said calmly, hoping it was the younger Pillar Man. Of course your desires were not met. Kars stepped into the library, his headscarf absorbing some of the light from the candle lit on the table next to you. He eyed you in what appeared to be mild distaste. “Why are you awake?” You looked up from the book with an odd expression. “What do you mean?” You asked him. The god huffed softly, motioning to the boards on the windows. “The sun has gone down. Are you not tired?” You pulled your gaze over to the covered windows. “...Oh.”

          You had failed to notice the absence of flittering rays much earlier. “Wait, what time is it?” You mumbled to yourself. You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall to your right and your expression dropped. “It’s 1 am.” he mumbled, crossing his arms. You pursed your lips and quietly closed the book. You uncrossed your legs and set it back on the shelf. Kars watched you slowly make your way back and forth. “What about you?” You asked, wrapping your fingers around the candle tray. He stared at you. Were you asking why he was up? “What do you mean?” He asked with a sigh. “You’re still up, but you aren’t tired.” You stated while approaching him. He didn’t move. “I’ve told you this. Neither me nor Wamuu need sleep, human. Es-” He stopped himself mid sentence and his cold expression seemed to falter for only a moment. You had learned, in your three weeks here, that the pillar men deemed it inappropriate to show emotion to anyone other than family members or mates. 

          Kars had never slipped up around you before. 

          The gears in your brain began turning. Kars wouldn’t show something like that to Wammu even, at least that’s what you’d been told. Why, even if for a split second, would he let you see that? Did he see you as someone close? The mere idea was laughable. Kars’ cold exterior soon returned, though. Simply brushing aside the sight, you continued to listen to him. “Esidisi didn’t need sleep, either.” He continued, his voice almost strained. Was Kars trying to hide his pain? You looked at him with soft eyes. Kars seemed to get minorly flustered and removed his gaze from you.

          You sighed gently and gazed cautiously into his blooming red eyes, the simple sight of them making your stomach twirl a bit. He made you feel floaty when he looked at you. Your cheeks flushed and you looked away. You saw in your hazy peripheral that he had furrowed an eyebrow. “What?” He asked hesitantly, looking back at you. “Hm?” You couldn’t look back at him. “I was just wondering about something, that’s all.” You begged that the bluff worked on him, but you knew that Kars was smart. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, his eyes flickering across your face and body, looking for a hint of something in your body language. 

          He sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You stood there and glanced at him curiously, his back turned and footsteps echoing. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m taking you to your chambers. Come.” He said with a bored expression. “O-Oh, right.” You whispered. You jogged up to him, but slowed your pace once you were next to him. “What was it?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him without moving your head. “What?” He sighed through his nose. “You said you were wondering about something.” Your mouth opened to the shape of an O. “Right. I was just curious, uh, Kars. Do you think you could sleep if you tried?” You queered hesitantly, avoiding your original thought of Kars’ sadness. You looked back ahead of you. Kars gazed to his right, thinking. “An odd question, human. Why do you ask?” You shrugged slightly. “I dunno. Curiosity, I guess.” Kars aired out a small ‘hm.’ and inhaled sharply.

          “Curiosity is a dangerous fault in humans. No matter how long I sleep, that will forever remain a constant.” You cocked your head to the side a bit, working up the courage to turn to him as you both walked. “What do you mean?” He looked down at you, a strand of his hair tufting out slightly. “It’s what got that damned Joestar wrapped into this mess. If not for him, we wouldn’t need to deal with this. Our mission would be far less… complicated.” You nodded your head. “And that’s been a forever-thing?” He squinted his eyes. “A what?” 

          “Well, that’s what my dad used to call it.” You said with a gentle chuckle. “Y’know, a forever-thing. Something that’s been around for forever. Literally and figuratively.” 

          “A forever-thing?” He pressed.

          “Mhm.”

          “Humans and their idiotic names for simple terms.” he spat.

          “Oh really?”

           He scoffed. “Yes.”

          “Then what would you call it?” You joked, putting a playfully heavy emphasis on your words. Kars groaned, but deep inside his old bones, he felt something. He could admire beauty when he saw it, especially for a human, but this was getting out of hand. You were completely oblivious to the fact that Kars had taken an especial liking to you, which he was grateful for. His cold demeanor felt almost immoral around you. You were similar to that Joestar boy, but you were somehow more tangible. He could… stand you, sure, but he didn’t know why. He had been surrounded by nothing but cold glares and serious attitudes his whole life, and he magnified it in the way he lived. It’s what earned him the highest rank in what now remained of the tribes, being merely him and Wamuu. 

          Though, having you around was a strangely acceptable change of tone. He began finding himself seeking out your attention, like 10 minutes ago. You weren’t in your bed, so he came looking for you where you normally sat; the library. You were propped in that chair, now claimed as yours, with your knees to your chest and a book in your hands. You seemed almost magnetizing, you seemed almost… well, he wasn’t sure. He’d never felt this way. Why did you grab his attention? You held him in your fingers like putty, rubbing him in all the right ways. Maybe, because of you, his opinion on the human species wouldn’t be so dire. Maybe, in your toothy grins, your glittering eyes, and your gentle hands,  you would change his mind. 

          Only then, did he realize you had taken his hand in yours.

          He quickly pulled it away. “Don’t touch me.” He spat, eyeing you. You chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, force of habit. Whenever my dad was deep in thought, I’d grab his hand to pull him back to Earth.” Kars scoffed, rubbing his hand as though trying to get the feeling of your rough hands off of him. They were hard and calloused from training, he presumed, though it added to his simple adoration. He had never met a woman like this. His eyes lingered back to your hands for a moment before looking back ahead. “Well, I’m not your father.” You simply smiled ahead and didn’t respond.

          Kars let his hands fall to his sides and the two of you make it up the set of stairs to your room. The door sat closed, and you looked at Kars. “Would you mind, Kars, if I told you something?” You questioned casually, entering your room and looking at him from the inside. He nodded once and silently asked you to continue. Your face grew warm and you looked to the side, unable to look at him for a moment. “You…” You began, unsure how to tell him. He raised an eyebrow. “I what?” He said. You knew he was an impatient man when it came to things like this; you had heard it from Wamuu whenever he’d bring you food. “Spit it out.” You sighed and looked at him, your gaze wavering and nervous. “You aren’t half bad, Kars.” You said with an awkward tone of voice. You knew you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t know when you’d actually be able to tell him alone.

          Kars’ stance was unmoved. The meaning behind your words didn’t fully strike him until after the two of you silently stared at each other for 20 seconds. His face, twisted in mild confusion, soon loosened up. Realization clubbed him like a wooden baseball bat behind his knees. His maroon eyes darted across your face and his lips parted slightly. “What -- What are you saying?” He said quietly. He was sure his brain was playing tricks, but your face, it seemed so fearfully genuine. Sweat accumulated on the back of his neck in his headscarf. Kars was a god; the most powerful pillar man. He was above this. Why did… Why did it feel wrong to act that way around you? Why did he feel almost guilty when he acted superior?

          You stood motionless. “I mean, y’know. I enjoy… your… your company.” You stumbled over her words. Were you being intimate with him? He’d never seen this side of you. You noticed Kars slipping up on his own standards again, as well. His surprised emotions were clear as day, etched cleanly into his chiseled features. His fangs poked out onto his lower lip, a simple protrusion which you had wished you didn't find cute. You genuinely thought that Kars was attractive.

          Then again, who wouldn’t? He stood tall, around 6’8”. He towered over most all he came in contact with, but that was simply second nature to you now. You were used to craning your neck to get a better look at those blood-red eyes that almost seemed to despise you. A dark loft of his hair would make its cameo every now and again. He’d always get flustered whenever you’d mention it, telling you that he didn’t need the approval of a human. He’d then, a minute or so later, slyly tuck it back in. It’s not that he didn’t know, of course; it’s just that he only cared enough about it if you took the time to tell him.

          Wamuu had noticed his growing infatuation with you and the thought brought him a smile. After sitting down with Kars and listening to him do nothing but wax poetic about you earlier tonight, he told him to go find you. Maybe take a walk with you, if he felt like it. Kars kindly took up the offer; it seemed you had humbled him in that department, too. Normally he wouldn’t bother taking anyone’s advice, but here he was. Pulling him from the crevasse of his rushing brain was your hand, humbly wrapping your fingers around his.

          Kars stared at his hands, fingers being separated by your own, in blatant shock. “You aren’t as bad as I thought you’d be.” You whispered, barely audible to him. He locked eyes with you and without thinking, going against everything he’d ever stood for in the past, he curled his fingers around yours as well. You smiled softly and looked down, avoiding his gaze. Kars’ lips pulled back together, his lips twitching, desperately wanting to smile. “I suppose.” He said hesitantly. “Why are you being nice to me?” He soon asked, turning his gaze back to your face.

          He pulled his hand away, taking a step back. “I…” You murmured, retracting your hand as well. He looked between his fingers as though he’d touched gold, small glittering remnants still freckled along his palm. “I don’t know.” you finished with a heavy sigh. He closed his hand into a fist and looked at you with nervous confidence. “Well, if there’s nothing more, then I will take my leave.” He said quickly, nearly stuttering his words. He turned on his heel and began going the way he came. You gazed at his back as he swiftly left the hallway and sighed in disbelief. You had just grabbed his hand.

          Kars, it seemed, had fallen in love with the enemy.

          The enemy, it seemed, had felt exactly the same.

[sofreddie]

My Favorite (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N and her hunting partner, Gemma, decide a visit to their friends, the Winchesters, is in order. Everyone pines for everyone and they're all idiots.

Characters: Dean x Female!Reader, Sam x OC!Gemma

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Pining, Drinking, Almost Smut, Crack

WC: 2,453

A/N: Another one that's been sitting in my WIPs for a long time. Gonna have about 5 parts, maybe more if inspiration flows. Sort of dives right into the story and characters and takes off from there. Feedback is appreciated. : )

"Imagine saving your asses once again," Gemma tittered, striding into the Bunker and marching ahead. The place was slowly becoming a second home now.

Sam and Dean followed behind her with Y/N, all of them slowly dispersing around the war room.

"Saved our asses is a bit of an exaggeration," Dean countered, dropping his duffel on the war room table, "We just all happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"Yeah," Y/N agreed with a shrug, "I mean, it's not like Gemma and I came in there to see you two on your asses about to be monster chow or anything," she added.

"And we definitely didn't charge on in there like a badass set of bitches and cut them, bastards, down," Gemma grinned smugly, turning to the direction of the kitchen. "I'll help myself to a beer."

"Grab me one," Y/N said as she gently tugged off her jacket, examining a gash on her upper arm with a wince. She dug in her bag, retrieving her medical kit, and began to prepare to treat the wound.

"I'll grab us some beers too…" Sam mumbled, quickly following in the direction Gemma had left.

"Oh, how kind of you," Dean remarked, narrowing his eyes at Sam with a knowing look. Sam fired a bitchface back in response which made Dean grin before turning back to Y/N. "You…need a hand?" he offered as she worked on bandaging her wound.

"Sure," she relented, already struggling because of the angle. "I wonder if those two are gonna ever stop dancing around one another," she huffed a laugh, "Oblivious idiots."

Dean chuckled, moving to Y/N's side as he picked up a bandage and began to wrap it around the large wound. "Sam's…not great at taking hints," he laughed again, "And Gemma's…wrapped up in that self-deprecating little bubble of hers…."

His hand grazed along Y/N's arm as he worked on her; he hoped the goose pimples that raised on his arm weren't noticeable. The irony of his comments didn't escape him.

"It's funny," Y/N laughed, looking over her bandage and flashing Dean a thankful smile. "They both want the same thing - a hint of a normal life with someone special - but it's like they can't see what's right in front of them," she sighed, "Maybe we should come up with some masterful plan to get them together," she teased.

Dean laughed again, returning back to his chair and relaxing back into it, "I dunno," he chuckled, "We're at the stage where he can't help but follow her like a lost puppy. Can't be far off, right?"

Y/N smirked as Sam and Gemma came back into the room, carrying several bottles with them, the two of them smiling and laughing at some inside joke.

"Took you long enough," Y/N smirked at Gemma, accepting the beer as she gave her a knowing look.

"Somebody wouldn't stop going on about what films I like to watch," Gemma scoffed, smirking at Sam and as she sat next to Y/N and opened her beer, "Like I have time for films between hunting and gaming."

"You two could stay here for a little while," Sam offered with a shrug, "Take a little break?"

The Winchesters hadn't seen the girls in months, hunting cross-country keeping all of them busy. He and Gemma would often text between seeing each other. But Sam missed the personal interactions. Dean teased him constantly about his crush for Gemma - which, let's be honest, passed mere desire more than a year ago - and he'd brush it off as Dean imagining things.

If Sam could convince them to stick around a while, maybe it could work. He knew Dean and Y/N were good friends and would have no problem hanging out and occupying one another so he could get time with Gemma.

Gemma tilted her head, pouting in thought before looking at Y/N. She did love this Bunker. Would take any opportunity to spend time in it. It definitely wasn't one of the occupants that made it so great. No… that's stupid, like that would ever happen.

"We have been hitting the hunts hard?" Gemma shrugged nonchalantly.

Y/N looked between Sam and Gemma, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. She knew she'd end up hanging out with Dean, as per usual, while Sam and Gemma danced around each other once more. She loved hanging out with Dean. But that was part of the problem. She loved hanging out with Dean. But Dean was the ever unattainable playboy bachelor. Their time together was always bittersweet.

"I suppose we could use a break," Y/N relented, hoping this time off would do well for her friend.

"Well then," Gemma grinned, broader than she thought she was doing as she joyfully swigged on her beer. "Looks like you're stuck with us for a few days."

Dean smirked, drinking from his beer, too, as his eyes discretely drifted to Y/N. Sometimes Sam's ideas weren't all that crazy. His crush often meant time with Y/N. Maybe binge something on Netflix again? Hit the bar? He loved every minute with her. Perhaps this time, he'll find the courage and…say something?

"Not gonna complain," he sat up and addressed the group, "Always good to have company in this place."

"Great," Sam smiled, "You know, I have Bohemian Rhapsody in my room. You said you've wanted to see that, right?" Sam asked Gemma with a grin.

"Oh!" Gemma sat up, excitement in her voice, "Yes, I've been dying to see that one! Let's all watch it!"

Dean's eyes flashed to Sam before looking back at Gemma, "I'm gonna head into town, get some take out. You wanna come with?" he asked Y/N.

She glanced between the others and nodded at Dean, "Yeah, sure." she quickly agreed, grabbing her coat and following on his heels swiftly.

Sam let out a relieved sigh, turning to Gemma, "We don't need to wait for them," he said, standing from his chair and gesturing for her to follow him.

"Ah, screw them." Gemma chuckled, hopping to her feet and following, "I can't deal with watching them dance around each other all night anyways."

"C'mon," Dean grinned childishly at Y/N from the driver's seat of the Impala, "Just one drink."

He'd parked the car at the local bar, just as expected. Take out wasn't gonna be for a couple more hours.

"It's never just one with you," she teased, smirking as she climbed out of the Impala, "We goin' or what?" she said, leaning back to look at him still sat in the driver's seat.

"Yes," Dean grinned triumphantly, eagerly climbing from the car and trying to subtly control his breathing.

He was gonna do it. Tonight is the night he says something. He ignored the fact that he'd told himself this on the last three occasions he and Y/N went to a bar. It was different this time, though.

"We always have the best nights when it starts like this," Dean smiled, the exterior lights of the bar making his eyes sparkle.

"They are pretty good, "she relented, entering the bar and looking around before heading to claim a barstool.

She made herself swallow down the words about how often he'd left with someone else, leaving her to fend for herself by the night's end. It wasn't always, rarely even, but she hoped she wouldn't be abandoned tonight. As her eyes glanced around the reasonably packed bar, she could already see several women eyeing him hungrily and licking their lips. She sighed, turning back to the bar to order the first round.

"Looks like you get the pick of the litter tonight," she forced a smile, nodding her head to indicate the ravenous sluts in waiting.

"Huh?" he raised an eyebrow, following Y/N's gesture to the hungry line of cougars. He hadn't even noticed them, which was odd. His head quickly turned back to Y/N, and he shrugged. "Not interested. Just me and you tonight."

"If you say so," she shrugged nonchalantly, secretly hoping he held to that promise. She raised her shot, passing him one. "To living another day," she toasted, tossing back her shot with a wince.

Dean toasted with her, and they sank their shots in sync before Dean ordered some more.

"Okay," he chuckled at Y/N's raised eyebrow. "Maybe a few more? We're all on break, right? It's a vacation!"

"I see," she laughed, accepting another round from the bartender, "So this is like that time in Tulsa when I had to practically drag you back to the motel?" she teased.

Dean laughed hard, nodding and shrugging, "Maybe not that far," he tittered.

That night was more important to him than Y/N realized. It was shortly after that that the Djinn incident happened. He ordered more shots; before they'd even drank these, he needed more of that liquid courage.

How do you break it to a long-term best friend that you're in love with them?

Several rounds and one successful pool hustle later, the two of them were hanging on each other, laughing as they exited the bar.

"We're toooooo drunk to d-d-drive," Y/N slurred, pointing to the motel across the way, "Ey, look!"

Dean swung around, clutching onto Y/N's shoulder for balance as he turned too hard and nearly went in a circle.

They giggled and stumbled their way to the motel, where Y/N left Dean leaning against the wall outside the office as she used some of their winnings to secure a double room. They wandered until they found the room, the door crashing loudly against the wall as they giggled and stumbled into the room.

"Always nice to be safe," Y/N sighed, dropping onto one of the beds with a dramatic sigh, "No good," she groaned, sitting up, "Too spinny."

"Haaa," Dean laughed loudly - promptly 'shushing' a table lamp that his swinging arms sent crashing to the floor - "I told you, the spontaneous nights are the best!" He stumbled over to the same bed as Y/N, dropping onto it next to her and falling back. He quickly shot back up, "Definitely too spinny."

"I do have the most fun with you," she agreed. She pulled out her phone and tried to focus long enough to send Gemma a message before she inevitably passed out.

Y/N: I okay drunk gt room Is okay

"Who are you texting?" Dean frowned, almost looking offended as his body swayed back and forth clumsily, "Thought you just said I'm the most fun, huh?"

"I just told Gemma where we are at," she smirked, "Y'know…youuuuu mister," she tried pointing a finger at him. Still, he stubbornly became too many. "Hows come you didn't talk at them ladies?" her face pinched into a frown before she looked back out at the room. "I's shoulda got one of them guys we beat," she nodded to herself, turning back to Dean with a wide grin and wiggling her eyebrows. "Angry sex."

"Nooo!" Dean blurted out loudly and suddenly, shaking his head too much, "No, no, this is me and you tonight. Jus' me and you. I's got this…this big thing I was gonna say…."

"Oooh…tell me!!" She pleaded, turning on the bed to face him fully, "Gossip," she hissed drunkenly.

"S'not gossip," Dean scoffed, smirking as he watched her grow all excited. He gazed into the three pairs of eyes before him, squinting slightly to try and stop them moving so damn fast. "I jus… "he shook his head, trying to put his serious face on and sound really romantic. "I wanted to…to tell yoooou. You know, you've got this…this really big brain-" he emphasized this point by holding his hands out on either side of his head. "A-and I like that. You are my favorite, you badass, you sexy. Mah favorite."

She snorted, standing from the bed and stumbling as she removed her coat, overshirt, and shoes, leaving her in a cami and jeans.

"You's mah favorite, too," she giggled, sitting back down next to him. She sighed, raising a hand and caressing his cheek, "Hows come I never get ta be a notch?"

Dean's glazed-over eyes softened, heat rushing to his cheek that she held. "You're more than a notch. I want you and…just you."

"Kay," she sighed happily, leaning in to crush her lips to his, a little harder than she intended, their noses squished uncomfortably together.

Dean grunted in surprise at the collision, not entirely sure what was happening. When his brain caught up, it moved fast. Dean grabbed Y/N's ass abruptly and squeezed, parting his mouth in the kiss and firmly brushing his tongue across her whiskey-tainted lips.

She moaned obscenely, pressing herself closer to him. She parted from the kiss, their lips still touching as she drunkenly slurred, "I wanna have the sex with you."

Dean felt the strain in his denim, her words sounding like the hottest thing he'd ever heard. He tugged her impossibly closer, devouring her mouth with his tongue while endless moans rumbled from his throat.

"I want to sex you so hard," he breathed across her lips, nipping at them sloppily.

They messily tugged at each other's clothes, some pieces ripping in the process. At one point, Dean fell off the side of the bed as he tried to get his boots off. Y/N giggled before crawling to him and helping. They finally made their way to the bed, completely naked and making out as they laid on their sides.

Abruptly, Dean suddenly turned, leaning off the side of the bed and clumsily reaching out for his jeans. Eventually, he got a hold of them - half hanging off the bed now - and after dragging them over, he plunged into a pocket to find his wallet and a condom from within.

"I…" he frowned, sitting up on the bed and fumbling with the foil packet fruitlessly, "I can't open…."

"Lemme."

Y/N took it from his hands, aggressively ripping it with her teeth and chuckling as a small piece of foil dangled from her lips. She tried to be seductive, guiding Dean to lay back before letting her eyes fall on her prize. He was only half-hard, but she figured it would be fine. She struggled, trying to roll it on him, only getting him partially covered before she whined and flopped back onto the bed dramatically.

"S'not workin'."

Dean whined, after moaning like a pornstar just at the mere touch of Y/N's hand on his cock. He held his shaft, moving slowly and trying to work himself hard. He attempted multitasking, lunging over to try and collide his lips back with Y/N's only to hear the distinct sound of a snore.

He blinked slowly, falling onto his back and his eyes fluttering closed.

PART 2

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

@jarpad24

@flamencodiva

@donnaintx

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

@idreamofdeanie

@charred-angelwings

@deandreamernp

@laycblack

@siospins

@agirlwithdemonblood

[undermattsun-archive]

taste

(skate rat) kawanishi taichi x fem!reader | w.c 3.5k

a/n: SURPRISE it’s a sequel to mouth <3 my original skate rat sin i suppose, and also like my first real fic/drab for the fandom. god bless. as always thank u to @bakatenshii​ + @sugardaddykenma​ for putting up with me ranting about this fic (and also putting up with me since mouth)

big big thanku to #1 wife @pomsuki​ for reading this for me and yelling at me to finish this damn thing <3

18+ university age | pls read ALL warnings

warnings: drugs, public sex, dub/noncon exhibitionism, degredation, humiliation, dubcon, blood, slight injury (it’s a bloody nose), toxic behavior, misogynistic energy? vibes? you’ll know when u see it honestly

reading mouth isn’t necessary but it is appreciated! and pls check out melt + nightingale syndrome for they exist in the same skate rat universe (+ they’re delicious fics) also the people who wrote em r BIG SEXY

There were more than enough reasons to quit Kunimi Akira. He never texts back, he doesn’t go to class, he’s fucked a few of your friends and he couldn’t commit if you paid him. He was simply a waste of time, it was like every second spent with him was another mark ticked off a test, a percentile lowering on your next paper.

But chucking Kunimi would be like trying to sort grains of rice, difficult and damn near impossible. He always knew how to draw you back in and he enjoyed the mind games a lot more than his bored expression would let on. 

Despite the impossibility of quitting him you had to at least try, so you swore up and down that hooking up with him at Oikawa’s party some odd months ago was truly the last of it, that you were done with him and all of his irritating skate rat friends.

Which begs the question of how you ended up at the little concrete amphitheater on campus, sandwiched between Hanamaki and Matsukawa on one of the steps, a blunt being passed between the two of them without so much as a second glance towards you.

“Say, when’s the last time you and Kunimi had fun?” Makki’s grin is nothing short of lascivious, a slimy feeling weighs on your tongue as you shrug off a shudder.

“Say, was that ever any of your business?” You retort, snatching the blunt from his lips bringing it to your own and inhaling deeply, revelling at the warmth creeping down your throat and filling your chest. 

“Quit it Makki, she’s not gonna fuck you. Kunimi got her ‘round his little finger,” Mattsun coos, taking back the blunt, “besides, heard she’s a fuckin ice queen in the sack. Boooring.”

A sharp inhale keeps you grounded, the sound of Iwaizumi’s board slamming back down onto the pavement reminding you where you are, who you’re with. You’re not going to fall for Mattsun’s little games too.

“Tch.” Daggers prick at your lips, but you bite your tongue knowing that fueling the fire will earn you nothing but a headache. It’s not like you’re waiting for anything, or anyone, stealing a few more hits and leaving would be the best option.

“Oh? Nothing to say? But I heard your mouth was your only redeeming quality.” You focus your gaze on Iwaizumi telling Oikawa to stay out of his way, trying not to let your growing discomfort scare you away. The stubborn refusal of letting Mattsun’s words win only letting a dull ache grow at the base of your skull, prickling further when he and Makki let out low mocking laughs.

“Hey fucknuts!” Your head whips over to see a blur of crimson race by, followed gradually by a few other familiar faces you’ve seen around at parties and on campus.

“God, not these assholes.” Makki laughs as Oikawa makes faces at one of the newcomers. Your eyes drag across the unfolding scene as the number of rowdy idiots grows. You swallow hard, knowing that staying any longer would only cause your headache to further bloom.

“That’s my cue to leave.” You sigh, it’s not like you were waiting for Kunimi in the first place. You weren’t. You were just...killing time.

“Leaving?” Your head tips back to look up at the source of the question, Kawanishi Taichi, of course. 

“Yeah, dunno why I’m here in the first place.” You brush off his quirked brow and shove Mattsun hard with your shoulder as you stand up. With a curt nod, you smooth a hand over your jeans, turning on your heel to brush past Kawanishi, ignoring the low whistle that falls from his lips. You make it a good distance down the walkway before the sound of crunching footsteps behind you prickles at your ears as you ready yourself to tell whoever it is to get lost. 

“Want a ride?” You let out a huff as you look over your shoulder to see Kawanishi standing so nonchalantly, hands tucked into his pockets as he chews on a toothpick.

“Shouldn’t you be skating around with your little boyfriends?” The comment slips out, followed by your tongue sliding over your bottom lip as if it’ll soften the sharpness of your tone. 

“Nah, just droppin 'em off,” his eyes rake up and down your figure as you turn to face him, “where’s yours?”

“My what?”

“Your little boyfriend. You were waiting there like a lost puppy for him.” A protest rises in your chest, curbing it when you see a flash of something akin to flirtatious teasing in his normally passive eyes. 

“I... I don’t have one.” The words are slathered in honey, punctuated with a flutter of your lashes as Kawanishi takes another step forward. 

If Kunimi likes playing all those stupid games, why not play a few of your own?

“Is that so?” His head tilts slightly, you feign shyness, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you smile sweetly at him, confirming your statement with a nod of your head. “My car’s just over in the parking lot.” He tips his head in the direction of the closest lot, before turning to start walking. Without hesitation you easily fall into step beside him, trying to dampen your rising nerves.

Despite the dumb little hookups peppering your dating history, you had only gone so far with most of them, Kunimi being one of the few —and the only one you crawled back to— that you had made the unfortunate pleasure of going all the way with. You keep pushing away at the thoughts of inexperience as Kawanishi approaches an old, beat up, black Corolla, the paint flaking off with dings and dents littering across the body, the impeccably shiny rims on the wheels making you snort. 

It was a rather famous car across campus, seeing it around with stupid skate rats crammed in there with the windows fogged with smoke was an almost daily occurrence, especially highlighted by how it’s tied to one too many stories of girls having varying encounters with Kawanishi –and sometimes one of his friends– in said car.

“Wanna smoke or skip to the real fun?” He never minced any words, always up front or just completely skipping out on the conversation. It always made him the best project partner in the odd classes you’ve shared over your uni years.

“I don’t like waiting.” The fuzziness nipping at your spine from the few hits you took earlier were just enough, not wanting to dull your senses completely during this encounter. The bluntness of your answer causes a smirk to play at Kawanishi’s lips as he opens the door to the back.

“Well then, ladies first.” He gestures to the gray cloth seats, you make a point to ignore the questionable stains littered across it as you slide in, trying to focus instead on figuring out the heady scent permeating through the car. Cheap cologne, cigarettes, weed and maybe stale beer, and something that was distinctly him. 

Your eyes are drawn to a stain on the roof that looks oddly similar to an eagle, the thought unfinished as Kawanishi practically dives in after you. The sound of the door slamming preempting hands roaming over your body and lips moving against your neck. 

“Kawa-”

“Just Taichi.” He clips as he works the buttons of your jeans, a coarse hand working against your spine as he unhooks your bra.

“Eager much?” You laugh as he pushes at your shirt and bra exposing pert nipples to cool air, simultaneously managing to work your jeans past your hips and down your thighs.

“You said no waiting.” With a chaste kiss to your lips he’s maneuvering you onto your stomach, raising your hips in the air, face shoved halfway between the seat and door.  You let out a huff as your hand braces itself against the door, while the other on the seat below you, trying to find some semblance of comfort in the cramped setting.

“Mhm.” It’s the best reply you can manage as he grinds his clothed cock against the cleft of your ass, already hard. You can only imagine how many women he’s had in this situation to award all six feet and three inches of himself the ability to move so successfully around in the cramped backseat. 

Nimble and worn fingers circle around your hip, dipping down to tease at dampening lace, eliciting a soft moan from you. You push back against him, delighting in the soft grunt he lets out as he curls himself over you to scrape his teeth over your nape. His fingers continue to run up and down against your clothed cunt, pressing at the growing slick spot marking your wanting hole.

“Excited huh?” He mumbles as he skims his tongue against the shell of your ear, you manage a low hum in reply as he slides his hands back up, tugging down the flimsy piece of clothing, exposing your needy cunt to hungry eyes. He wastes no time pressing his fingers against your twitching hole, causing you to wiggle your hips just enough to earn a low chuckle and send the message of just how much you want him, need him. 

Without any further hesitation he slips in a finger, your back arching with the realization his fingers are longer than Kunimi’s, chest burning at the fact you could even think of another man in this situation. As if he can sense your wandering thoughts Taichi works in another finger, another following quickly after. There’s no urgency in his movements, each twist and thrust of his fingers methodical, curling in just the right way, making sure to brush his thumb over your throbbing clit to send a stinging pleasure up your spine. 

You can’t deny the way he’s taking you apart so sweetly, the tightening deep in your belly achingly sweet, as he starts to thrust his fingers even deeper, tiny gasps and whines starting to grow louder and louder as you careen towards bliss. With a particularly rough curl of his fingers you feel yourself come undone completely, punctuated by a shameless moan.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the fogged glass pulls you out of your blissful haze, still acutely aware of the way Taichi has his fingers lazily twisting inside of you. 

“It’s open.” He tugs you back by the hips slightly as he retracts his fingers painfully slow, listening as he unzips his jeans. Your heart races as the passenger door opens, shifting uncomfortably to try to catch a glimpse of who’s slid into the car.

“Oh, so that’s where you went, Mattsun said you were hanging around.” Your blood runs cold, your state of undress tightening your chest as you become painfully aware of the situation you’re in. The passive tone of Kunimi’s voice nips at your skin, tears away at the search of mindless fun that you had tried to pursue with Taichi, filling your chest with raw embarrassment.

“What do you want?” The tear of a wrapper following the question, whatever protest you had silenced by a hand coming down to grip harshly at your ass.

“You have my grinder.” Kunimi slips into the passenger seat, the sound of the glove box popping open making your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Yeah well close the door at least.” Your eyes widen at Taichi’s statement, you didn’t want Kunimi to just close the door, you wanted him to leave.

“Whatever. Can I smoke in here?” It doesn’t sound like much of a question, more of a declaration with the ‘can’ and the question mark tacked on for decoration.

“I don’t care, do you?” You crane your head just enough to catch the blasé expression on Taichi’s face, a quirked brow directed more at your ass than you.

“Yeah sweetheart, care if I’m in here while you’re whoring yourself out?” Kunimi scoffs, the irritated tinge to his bored tone making you furrow your brows.

“Oh fuck you.” You start to rise on your elbows, only for Taichi’s hand to land between your shoulder blades, keeping you from moving any further. You let out a huff as Kunimi clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“Sorry babe, it’s me who’s fucking you this time around, maybe Kunimi can get the next round.” Before you can even bother with a retort, Taichi drags the head of his cock against slick folds, teasing at your entrance. You let your head hang down, the click of a lighter grating on your nerves more than you would like to admit. 

“Please, fuck me, I want it so bad.” The whininess of your voice annoys even you, but if Kunimi wants to stick around and get on your nerves, then two could play that game. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” Just like before he slides in slowly, carefully, as if to make you memorize what each inch of him feels like splitting you apart so sweetly.

“Shit.” You exhale shakily as you try to adjust to him, it had been months since you last fucked anyone, since you last fucked the asshole sitting passenger.

He sets a leisurely pace, steady and infuriating. There’s a hand clamped down on your hip, fingers digging in painfully to keep you in place, to establish that he’s the one calling all the shots. You huff, still trying to buck your hips to meet his thrusts. There’s something in his actions that makes you feel greedy, desperate for so much more than he’s offering.

There’s no way around it, you’re completely at his mercy, left taking the shallow, slow thrusts that only makes the desperate ache deep in your cunt grow.

“Hook a finger or two in her mouth.” There’s a pause in Taichi’s motions, letting you finally take a deep breath of the thick weed laced air. “Don’t look at me funny, do it and see what happens.”

You hear a non-committal hum as those devilishly nimble fingers skim past your jaw, a whimper preceding his index pushing past your lips with a harsh tug at the corner of your mouth, the painful stretch of your cheek causing you to clench down on his length.

“Oh? You were right.”

“She’s already broken in,” Kunimi takes a long drag of the joint hanging in his fingers, “no point in holding back.” 

It’s as if a flip is switched in Taichi, the statement becoming an immediate challenge as he hooks in another finger beside the other, yanking harshly as the snap of his hips becomes almost painful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the car, swirling with the heady smoke defiling the air. 

“W-Wait Taichi.” The words are garbled around his fingers, and you’re quickly dismissed as he snakes around his other hand to hook his middle and index on the other corner of your mouth, the stretch in your lips burning as he shifts from the quick paced thrusts to deep, hard strokes.

His only reply is to tug harshly on your mouth as pathetic whines and distored words spill from you. 

You can feel yourself start to shake almost violently, still reeling from your earlier orgasm and suffering at the hands of Taichi’s now vicious pace. Each thrust pushing you into madness, each tug of his fingers bringing you back. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He curls over you again, sloppily running his tongue up your nape. “You wanna cum?” 

“Mhmm,” you yelp at a particularly rough slam of his hips, “please.”

He grunts, moving a hand to grip at the back of your head while keeping his other hand planted on your hip, fingers biting into your hip. There’s no warning as he grinds into you, the hold on your hip finally relenting as he slides his digits back down to pinch at your throbbing clit, the bit of pressure sending you careening over the edge.

“T-Taichi.” Pleasure wracks through your body, your legs tremble violently as you try to move your hand on the door, shoulder aching from holding yourself in place. The second your hand moves, you give into the force of Taichi’s hand on the back of your head, forcing you to slam face first into the door, the impact making your nose sting, blood immediately starting to gush, running down your face and chin. 

You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as he continues his assault, the once careful, methodical thrusts turning desperate and depraved as he moves with reckless abandon. His teeth drag across your shoulder, before pulling out completely.

“Don’t need this.” You grip at your nose, trying to ignore the disgusting feeling of blood seeping onto your fingers, looking over your shoulder again to see Taichi pull off the condom. You can’t even protest with the way you’re bleeding profusely, pinching at your bridge at a poor attempt of stopping the bleeding.

“Stay still.” In one swift movement he’s plunging back into you, bottoming out immediately, a muffled yell falls from your lips, arching your back as he drives into you with just a few more hard thrusts you feel his seed spill inside you. 

For a moment you two stay suspended, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix, making you groan in a twisted sense of pleasure of pain. He pulls out painfully slow, delivering another harsh slap your ass as he sits back.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout your nose.” He helps you flip onto your back, swiping his thumb over the blood trickling onto your lip before shucking off his t-shirt and handing it to you. “Don’t have any tissues.” 

“So who’d you like playing fuck toy for better?” For a split second, somewhere between the back breaking orgasm and your nose being slammed into the door, you had blissfully forgotten that Kunimi was still in the car, but now that perfect illusion just had to be shattered.

“Must you be such a dick all the time?” You manage to pull your jeans back up, hissing at the stinging pain in your hips and lower back, ignoring the lewd feeling of Taichi’s cum starting to leak from your abused cunt. 

Beside you Taichi manages to tuck himself back into his pants, reaching under the driver's seat to yank out a hoodie reeking of weed and cigarettes.

“Maybe you two should just get together already.” Taichi lets out a low chuckle as he pulls on the hoodie, getting out of the backseat, slamming the door hard before throwing the driver’s door open. You don’t even bother trying to hook your bra back on as you pull your shirt down, letting yourself slump back down and lay across the backseat as you reach up to check if your nose is still bleeding.

“Like hell.” Kunimi twists around in the passenger seat, looking down at you with an amused smirk, offering the freshly rolled joint to you. “You look like shit. I said she was broken in, not to break her more.” He only gets a wry laugh from Taichi as he starts the car.

“Thanks, right back at you.” You sit up just enough, looking at Kunimi expectantly. He shakes his head before twisting the joint in his fingers and placing it between your lips, producing the lighter. Just as he’s about to hand it to you he brings his hand back a bit, grabbing your jaw with his other as he lights the joint. He picks up Taichi’s bloodied shirt, pouring water from a twisted plastic bottle onto it before passing it back to you.

“Cute, blew her back out and you’re doting on her.” You watch as Kunimi moves to sit back in his seat, not even bothering to spare you a second glance as he shrugs. You dab away at the drying blood on your face, ignoring a few of the splotches that landed on the joint.

“Guess I play favorites, drop us off at my place.” 

“Us?” You exhale after a long drag, narrowing your eyes at the back of Kunimi’s head as Taichi pulls out of the parking spot.

“What do I even get out of doing that?” You can’t help but nod in agreement of Taichi’s statement, feeling yourself growing annoyed at the way they seem to ignore your entire presence.

“You can fuck her again.” Kunimi offers and you almost drop the joint as your jaw falls open at the absolute nerve of the man. 

“Excuse me? I’m right here?” The way that neither of them even flinch at your statement, let alone acknowledge it makes you slump back into the seat, begrudgingly accepting the fact whatever you say isn’t worth shit to either of them.

“Hm.” It doesn’t sound like he’s actually considering the offer, but the quick look over his shoulder as he turns out of the parking lot sends a chill down your spine and your stomach to twist.

“Believe it or not, her mouth’s her one redeeming quality.” The two of them snicker, like two old pals sharing an inside joke.

“Shut the fuck up.” You’re brushed off once again as they toss back a few more comments before Taichi stops at a red light, looking over at Kunimi, then back at you and finally back towards the road.

“Yeah alright.”

[kaywinchester]

Last Resort

anon asked: Hey! I love your work! Do you think you could do a sister!reader fic where Dean, Sam and Cas are away on a long hunt, and the reader (younger, maybe between 11-14) has a panic attack? Since her brothers nor Cas can help, Crowley shows up... Thank you!

Word Count: 1,762

A/N: I know panic attacks can be different for a lot of people, so I kind of just made the panic attack in this story how mine usually are. I also set this before the boys found the bunker since Crowley is still around.  *Also not my gif*

“Hey, wake up.... Y/N c’mon wake up.” Sam said as he shook your sleeping form. 

You rolled over to your side and blinked your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the light shining in from the hallway.

“M’what?” You mumbled.

“Y/N, Cas called us. Dean and I have to leave to go help him, it’s important.”

“What’s going on?” You wondered, looking over at the clock on the nightstand to see that it was 2:30 in the morning. 

“We’ll call you and explain everything later, but we have to leave. We might be gone for a few days but I wanted to let you know.” Sam said frantically.

“Okay, call me in the morning.” You said, still half asleep and not really understanding what was going on. 

Sam nodded and shut the lights off as he and Dean gathered their things before leaving the motel room. You rolled to your other side and fell back asleep within minutes.

....................

You woke up the next morning and sat up in bed, looking around, you were confused as to why Sam and Dean weren't there. It took you a minute but you remembered Sam waking you up. Just as you were thinking about where the hell they went, your phone rang.

“Sam?”

“Hey, how’re you doing?”

“Uh, where are you guys and when are you coming back?” 

“Sorry for leaving in such a rush. Cas called us about some other angels that are going around taking people out. Normally he’d be able to handle this himself but they're moving pretty fast.” Sam explained.

“When will you be back?”

“Not sure, but this one might take a few days. Maybe a week at worst, but we’ll keep you updated.”

“What about food?” You asked, glancing at the small motel kitchen. 

“Dean went on a supply run after you fell asleep last night, the fridge should be stocked. We wouldn’t leave you alone if we thought you couldn't handle it.” Sam said.

“Okay, well, hurry back.” 

“We will. Gotta go, we’ll talk to you later.” “Stay safe, Y/N/N.” You heard Dean say in the background.

....................

It had been 4 days since the boys left and you were bored out of your mind. You had opened snack after snack, watched way too much tv, and even snuck two of Dean’s beers. You knew he would notice and be pissed off but you didn't even care at the time. 

Just when you thought you would be fine by yourself, you weren't. 

The paranoia started to set in, which happened often when the boys would leave on longer hunts and not take you with them. Sometimes, you were able to brush it off and be patient until they got back. Other times like this, it was like a nagging feeling of terrible thoughts that would set off a panic attack.

There was a string of bad thoughts that kept rushing through your head. Wondering if Sam and Dean would be okay, if they were going to make it back safely, or if they were already dead and you just didn’t know it yet. 

These thoughts sent you pacing back and forth around the motel room. You chewed your lip as you imagined Sam and Dean walking through the door with their bags, trying your best to calm yourself down. 

You sat down on the edge of the bed as you felt your breathing picking up, feeling so panicked and uncomfortable, being alone for longer than you were okay with. You wanted to call Sam and Dean to check in but you didn’t want to be a bother. Your brothers knew that you had occasional panic attacks, but they didn’t know the extent of them. It was also a little embarrassing, so you decided to keep it on the low. 

That’s when your phone rang, seeing it was Sam, you answered almost right away.

“Sammy?” You breathed out.

“Hey kiddo. What’s up?” Dean answered instead.

“Uh, hey.... nothing much.... Is Sam there?”

“Yeah, he just fell asleep in the passenger seat. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, just um.... when will you be back?”

“We just finished up actually. We were able to track down the last string of dickhead angels so were on our way back right now.”

“How long?” You asked a little too eagerly. 

“Should be there in about 4 hours, could be less.... You know how I drive.” Dean let out a chuckle. 

“Ok great, hurry back.” Was all you could think of saying before hanging up the phone. 

....................

Sam stirred in his seat, waking up and turning to Dean to see his phone in his hand. “What are you doing with my phone?”

“Y/N called, she was just asking where we were.”

“Oh. How is she?”

“Good... sounded a little weird though.”

“What do you mean weird?”

“I dunno. She’s probably just getting impatient.”

Sam took a moment to think about how Dean worded that, realizing you might've been having an episode.

“No more stops tonight, let’s get back as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“She might be panicking a little bit, we’ve been gone for almost a week.”

“She’ll be fine, she just needs to get used to being on her own.” Dean started being insensitive. 

“Dean, I don’t think you know how panic attacks work.”

“She doesn't still have those, does she?”

“Yes, as far as I know she does, and depending on the person, they can get pretty bad.”

Dean didn't say anything after that and continued to drive faster. 

....................

You sat on the floor up against the motel bed and talked to yourself in your head, praying to Cas since your brothers were still a long ways away. You repeated the same message over and over, expecting to see Cas pop up in front of you, but it never happened.

You started to panic even more that you started to repeat your cry for help out loud, not to anyone directly, but in hopes of feeling like someone was listening. 

You weren’t expecting it but someone was listening. 

And that someone was Crowley.

Crowley appeared after minutes of you talking, it scared the shit out of you, making you spring up from where you were sitting. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You questioned.

“Well, someone is a little uneasy from what I heard.” He glanced back at you.

“Why are you even listening to me?”

“You clearly wanted someone to, and I was in the area.” Crowley said jokingly.

“Sam and Dean aren’t gonna like it when they see that you’re here.” You said as you backed up out of habit.

“Sam and Dean aren’t going to be here for a while now are they love? I might as well give you some sort of company.” He smirked, as he pulled out one of the kitchen chairs to sit down.

“Why are you acting nice?”

“Who said I was acting? The king of hell can’t do little Winchester a favor?”

“Why would you want to though, it’s pretty unlike you.”

“Let’s say I owe you and your brothers one, I can’t always be ruining things can I? That would just be bad for my reputation.” Crowley sassed.

You scoffed at his sarcastic remarks, then realizing that he did a good job of distracting you from how you were feeling.

“Thanks” you gave a small smile, accepting the nice gesture Crowley gave. 

“No need... Well, I guess my work here is done.” Crowley sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend.” Before you could turn around to hear what Crowley was talking about, he was gone. Moments later, you heard a familiar car engine pull up in front of the motel room. 

Perfect timing.

You drew the curtains to reveal your brothers emerging from the car, with Cas already walking up to the door.

You let out a sigh of relief as you welcomed all three of them inside.

“Hello Y/N.....” Cas paused and looked around with suspicion growing on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I had a sense that one from the opposite side was lingering in this vicinity.”

“Okay, I literally understood none of that.”

“There was a demon here at some point. I’m sure of it.”

“Y/N, what’s he rambling about?” Dean asked as he hauled in the last of the things from the impala.

“Uh, I don’t know.” You lied.

Sam could see right through you face and knew something had happened. You didn’t look okay.

“Y/N, was there someone here? Did something try to hurt you?” Sam asked, grabbing Dean’s attention, stopping him from what he was doing.

“Well, Crowley...”

“Crowley!? Was he here?” Dean’s voice boomed.

“Dean, can you please not make a big deal...”

“Big deal!!?”

“Dean, dude seriously chill out. Just tell us what happened, Y/N.” Sam interrupted.

You told the three boys everything that happened. Sam immediately felt bad that he wasn’t there. Dean was worried that his little sister dealt with panic attacks this bad, but he still wasn’t happy that the king of hell just decided to pop in without warning. 

“Y/N/N, why didn’t you tell me over the phone?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t want you to worry. Plus, you were too far anyways.”

“Well next time that happens, you call us, no matter where we are. I promise, you mean more to us than our work, we’d drop everything, even if we were miles away just to get to you.” Sam explained.

“Yeah, what he said.” Dean chimed in.

“Wow, I love how much you care.” You joked.

“You know I love you Y/N/N..... but I’m gonna have to lay down some rules with Crowley, and one of them is no dropping in when I’m not here. I don’t trust that shady punk.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged his arms, motioning for a hug which you gladly accepted.

“Nothing but chick flick moments over here. Get a room.” Dean scoffed.

“Shut up!”

“So, where is Crowley now?” Cas asked innocently.

“Were you even listening the whole time?” Sam asked confused.

“No, there is many things being said over angel radio.” 

“God dammit, Cas.” Dean said as he got up to grab a beer out of the fridge. “Who drank my beers?”

“Wasn’t me...” Sam shrugged. 

You knew you were in big trouble, forgetting about the choices you made earlier. So you slipped out the front door to let Dean cool down, but he had other plans. Sam quietly ratted you out as he motioned to the door that had just shut.

“Y/N! Get back here!” 

Requests are open again!

Tags:

@jackjackljaqui ​@hunting-the-grievers @susan-is-in-the-house@flirtyonsie @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @justsomedreaming

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Inspired by this prompt by @primarybufferpanel

Hero getting summoned to the hospital. Turns out villain has them listed as Next Of Kin

Warnings: hospital setting, motorcycle crash, mentions of bombing.

~

"Hello. I am here for...," Hero looked down at the piece of paper where she scribbled down the information that she spontaneously received only an hour before. "Civilian?"

"Civilian," the receptionist tapped some unknown words into her computer, squinted her eyes, and looked up at Hero. "You are his cousin, correct?"

Well, um...

That was not what Hero expected to hear.

"Uh yeah," Hero shook her head slightly. She hoped the movement would be interrupted as worry or shock not downright confusion.

Maybe she had to rub it in a little. Make it seem like she really was this civilian's family.

"What happened?" Hero feigned a high-squeaked voice. Maybe she sounded like she was crying, maybe not, but either way the receptionist gave her a kind look.

"Motorcycle accident."

Hero slowly nodded her head, pleading with it to link two and two together. Who did she know that rode a motorcycle?

Who did she know that even had their driver's license?

Heros were not required by law to have driver's licenses. It was mainly because many heros began as teens, but still had to drive around. Hero furrowed her forehead. She had no other friends other than her team.

"Wow, uh..." what was one supposed to say next? She never did this before. All her hero friends care for each other in base. "How bad is it?"

"Mm," the receptionist glanced at her computer again. "It says here that he is in a medically induced coma and is in critical condition."

Coma? Medically induced coma? Oh gosh, it must be bad- horrible even.

"Oh wow," Hero breathed, for once actually concerned.

"Well. Why don't you go. He is in the ICU currently. Room 11."

Hero hurried down the corriders and down the elevator. She ran trough the ICU, nearly missing Room 11.

She just suddenly had this nauseating sensation in her stomach.

Before she busted into the room, she looked at the files.

Severe head trauma, broken tibia (displaced fracture), road rash

Hero gulped and tentatively pushed the door open. Immediately the stench of disinfectants and the beeping of moniters hit her. Hero scrunched up her noise and walked towards the bed.

And there he was.

Villain.

Hero screamed, short and surprised, before she sunk down to her knees and grabbed onto her nemesis's limp hand.

"Villain? Oh, oh my gosh." The tears were unstoppable as Hero clung to Villain's hand. She just stared at it, too scared to look at the injuries or wonder why the doctors put him in a coma.

She made tiny circles with her thumb. Villain didn't respond. He was completely unresponsive.

Hero finally built up the courage to look up at Villain. He had a tube in his throat with some sort of breathing tube also attached to his face. Those tubes fragmented out into other tubes until he looked like Frankenstein.

His bruised, bare chest had heart pads all over it, watching over his weak heartbeat. He had many other moniters on him.

"What happened to you," Hero croaked, drawing herself to lean over him. "What happened-"

"Hero."

The hero turned around, her puffy face visible as a henchman walked in.

"Henchman," Hero regarded the man who entered the room with a concerned face. Not mad or suspicious like they were enemies, but as a source of comfort and information.

"There was an accident," Henchman answered Hero's unasked question. "We were being chased by Other Villain."

Henchman walked over to the other side of the bed and grabbed his boss's hand.

"Hey bro. Wake up for me will you?" Henchman spoke with such tenderness that Hero was drawn to him. "You don't get to be resting when the rest of us are working-" a small chuckle. "Your words, you know."

Hero sat back down on a chair that she just realized was there. She grabbed Villain's other hand and listened to Henchman's speech.

"Remember when your mum bought you your first gun. You were, maybe fourteen? That was five years ago; anyway, you were jumping with excitement when you showed me and the guys. And we were so jealous." Henchman chuckled again, squeezing Villain's hand tighter. "It was a D7 Scarecrow. $15,000."

Hero parted her mouth and resumed the small circles.

"And then, when you turned fifteen, you got into your first fight. Street fight, nothing special, but that was when you decided to become a villain. To protect other homeless kids from those street thugs."

"Become a villain to protect people," Hero asked, astounded.

"You heros don't patrol the alleyways. People are starving, dying daily."

"But Villain was- is... is- a full-fledged murderer. He is a criminal," Hero pointed out.

"Hmm," Henchman replied. "People change, Hero. Villain took a wrong turn."

The two remained silent for a while. Whether it was minutes, or hours, both Henchman and Hero kept themselves in their thoughts, drifting off periodically to the beeping sounds of the hospital.

That was until Henchman spoke.

"Villain was going to ask you out."

"W-what?" Hero stuttered, glancing down at the frowning face to the tear-stained face of the henchman. She didn't even realize that he started crying.

"Yep. We had it all planned out."

"Planned out?"

"Mhmm," Henchman replied. "Villain is not a simple guy. He wanted to it be extravagant."

"That's quite vague. What was the plan?"

"A bomb."

"A bomb?!"

"Or a firework, I dunno. He was gonna drop it over the woods. Apparently when it was supposed to go off, it would erupt into 'Will You Date Me Hero'. He was also gonna kidnap you to find on top of that abandoned parking garage. So you would see it." Henchman snorted, a mixture of tears and laughter. "It was so stupid."

"Yeah," Hero gave a half-smile. "I can imagine maybe ten ways that plan would've gone wrong."

"Would you have said 'yes'?"

Hero was silent for a moment. It would be very unheroic if she dated a villain. She would lose her job, her reputation, and maybe even her freedom. But, given the circumstance, it would be cruel to blatantly refuse and say, "No, I would never date a Villain."

Because that would just be wrong. Wrong and very rude.

"Yeah. I might've, I don't know," Hero sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Yeah. I just- yeah."

"Hmm."

Hero brought her hand up to Villain's face and brushed the hair out of it. He was so bruised and pale.

"How did the accident happen?"

"I dunno."

"You don't know?"

"That's what I said."

Both were again at a loss for words.

"I hope he wakes up," Henchman's voice cracked.

"Me too," Hero sighed. "Me too."

[buckybansre]

my baby | reiner braun

warnings: angst (??) w/ happy ending, sorta fluffy at the end, hurt/comfort, references to alcohol.

pairings: reiner braun x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: reiner finally returns back home and all seems well. but is it actually?

it has been months since you got to see reiner and maybe even years since you got to see him for more than a few days a time, you hadn't realised how much you missed him until you were shuffling through groups of people who waited for their family members, just to get to the front so you could see him as soon as he got off the train.

so much time has passed since he was given the armored titan and sent on a mission across the sea, you guys never really had the chance to have a concrete conversion about what happened on paradis, but it was obvious that reiner avoided the subject so you didn’t push on it too much.

you always got self conscious about if his feelings for you still remained when he’d disappear for weeks at a time, but your high hopes persisted for your relationship regardless as you waited behind the gate for reiner to come through.

with his mother, karina standing next to you, your heart felt like it could pound through your chest at any given second.

i wonder if he’s gotten bigger,

i wonder if he’s grown a beard by now,

i wonder-

“reiner!” you heard his mom yell from your side, which immediately snapped you from your thoughts.

“r...reiner?” you looked at him, he looked different but still the same old reiner nonetheless.

he’d grown so big, and had stubble growing across his cheeks. you never smiled so big when you saw someone.

fuck, you really missed him so much. your mind couldn't help but ponder off to the next time he’d be requested to leave for another mission. it broke your heart. he only had a few years left, and in your head, those years are yours. they belong to you, you both earned this.

is that selfish of me? you thought, chewing on your bottom lip.

no. you reassured yourself. i am not selfish.

“y/n? i missed you so fucking much, god.” he rushed over and wrapped his around your waist, engulfing you into his warmness. his familiar scent of cigarettes (you had zeke to thank for that) and cologne quickly filled your nostrils. you only hugged him tighter which caused him to chuckle.

you’d forgotten that you cut about three inches off of your hair until reiner commented on it.

“did you do something new to your hair?” he whispered, shutting his eyes as he hugged you tighter. “you’re so pretty.”

your cheeks grew with a fiery feeling as he released you from his grasp and laid his hand on your cheek, running his thumb across every feature of your face which caused you to laugh.

reiner greeted the rest of his family, keeping his arm around you the entire time.

“let’s go home,” you said after he finished greeting his family, taking his hand into yours and leading him back home. “you need to rest.”

—

reiner always assured you that when he got back from his big mission, he would come and live with you, and he upheld that deal. you guys were so young, and it seemed like only a silly reality. but now, it had become real.

once reiner initially arrived back from paradis, you two moved rather quickly to pick a home before he had to leave again to aid the warriors in another mission.

the house was perfect for the two of you, and a family as well, if you and reiner ever decided you wanted to take that step.

you, so badly wanted to take that step. but reiner on the other hand never spoke about it, so neither did you.

nevertheless, the house seemed so tiny, even tinier when you were there alone.

you always insisted on decorating the house whenever reiner came back. it was your ultimate goal to make him feel wanted and welcomed.

he needed that reassurance, and you were more than happy to provide it.

“so.. do ya’ like it? i know it’s small and…” you trailed off as you both made your way into the house, seeing a banner and a few balloons spread across the dining room.

“what? no, it’s great, baby. as long as i get to come back to you, everything is great.” he cracked a smile as he shut the door and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

“i can’t believe you still like me after all this time, or wanna be with me even. it’s crazy, really,”

the mutual crush between you and reiner began when you both were nine. reiner was training to be a warrior and you, well, you liked to watch.

you’d sneak to their practices and watch reiner do all of the drills and after, he’d confront you on your innocent stalking.

from then, the rest was history. you grew close with the other warriors, always having their favorite baked treats on hand when they had a hard day of training.

bertholdt was the one to make you confess your feelings to reiner once it was for certain that he was inheriting the amour titan and that they’d be traveling to paradis.

you missed bertholdt. so badly.

him, reiner, you and annie were inseparable. always being spotted together.

your heart broke badly when you found out they’d be inheriting titans, because from then, a timer would always be clocking down.

thirteen years.

“i only have a few years left, i don’t know who i’d rather spend it with,”

that.

that made your stomach churn in all different kinds of ways. he only had a few years left before he’d be gone forever.

you wished that he never got the armored titan, even back then you’d pray and pray that porco would get it instead of reiner.

selfishly of course.

“we never talked about this but, um, how were things… in paradis…?” you chewed on your bottom lip, your eyes carrying their gaze from the counter up to his eyes.

“interesting to say the least,” he sighed, shaking his head. “i’m going to go freshen up and then we can go to a bar, okay?”

“uh, yeah, about that, your family wants us over for dinner.” you looked at him and smiled slightly. “your mom made something for you and gabi,”

reiner and gabi’s relationship always made you smile. it’s what stemmed your wanting to have kids with reiner in the first place. he’d do anything for gabi.

“oh yeah, okay,” he nodded with a smile, kissing your head before walking into the bathroom to shower.

what the fuck does he mean by interesting? and what the hell happened on that island?

you brushed it off and walked into your bedroom and begun to brush your hair in order to flatten the stubborn flyaways that came up since you did your hair this morning.

reiner came out of the bathroom within a few minutes and had a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still covering his torso.

your cheeks quickly heated up as you got up quickly, even though you’d been with reiner for years, and even seen him naked multiple times, you still got flustered at the sight of him.

“uh, i’m gonna go uh, help you mom prepare dinner,” you walked out of the room before he replied. “meet me there in ten.”

it always shocked you how it wasn’t awkward between you both and everything just went back to normal so quickly.

you hoped to be married to him soon, have a few children and live in this house with him until his years were over.

you hoped.

you grabbed your jacket and bag and began walking towards the braun house. reiner’s mom made sure that when you two picked a place, that it was close.

you knocked on the door twice before it was opened by a small brown haired girl with gleaming brown eyes.

“gabi!” you grinned and leaned down to hug her. “i heard about what you did, it’s very impressive,” your fingers smoothed her hair back as you looked down at her.

“y/n! thank you!” she giggled before taking your hand and leading you into the house. “where’s reiner?” she peaked behind you before squinting her eyebrows.

“oh he’s just getting dressed, he’s gonna meet me here,” you replied as you step into the dining room of the house. “i wanted to come a bit early and help.”

you started by placing the plates and utensils on the tables for all the guests, then you helped karina make a pitcher of tea and by then dinner was ready.

you all sat at the table as karina and reiner’s aunt placed the few dishes of food onto the table.

“where’s reiner y/n?” reiners uncle asked as he began to cut into his food.

you did the same and began cutting into your food, answering before taking a bite.

“i dunno, he said that we would meet me here,” you took a bite of food and swallowed. “perhaps he fell asleep or something? i’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

everyone at the table nodded and with that, gabi began retelling her story about what happened on the battle field.

she was an impressive warrior candidate, and that’s saying the least. but you didn’t want gabi to inherit the armored titan, because similarly to reiner, you didn’t want her to have a short life.

but gabi seemed so happy, and it sickened you to your stomach. marley is poisoning these kids to want to be tools of war. it made you even sicker how every eldian parent thought this was normal, not even normal, they thought it was a prize of some sort.

it wasn't.

as gabi kept talking, no one realized how much time was passing. by the time she was done telling her story, everyone was finished with their dishes and the pitcher of tea was empty.

“i don’t know why reiner didn’t show,” you said, shaking your head to yourself as you began to help gabi clear the plates off of the table.

it isn’t like him to skip out on family dinner the day he gets back.

“he’s probably just exhausted,” the small girl shrugged as you both headed towards the sink.

“i think you’re right,” you smiled down at her, ruffling her hair as the dishes made a clinking noise in the sink.

you put on your coat and grabbed your bag.

“i’ll let reiner know that you guys missed him,” you said to everyone, earning a mix of goodbyes before walking out of the house and onto the windy street.

your shoes clicked against the sidewalk as you walked the few minutes it took you to get back to your home.

god, these things were killing your feet.

“reiner!” you yelled as soon as got through the front door. “why the hell didn’t you come to dinner?”

you looked well throughout the house and he was nowhere to be found, he wasn’t at home.

well then, where hell was he?

“fuck, reiner.” you sighed and put back on your jacket before heading out of your house once again.

you suspected him to be at the bar since he mentioned it earlier. it was either that or a damn emergency happened and he was with the other warriors.

you hoped it was the second one. because why else would he pass up dinner with his family on his first night back?

it took about fifteen minutes for you to reach the bar nearest to your home. by the time you got there you were shivering and your feet and hands were freezing.

as you walked into the bar you were greeted by the workers, you nodded in their direction and gave them a small smile in reply.

your eyes glazed around the room for the tall blonde, it didn’t take long for you to spot him sitting on one of the stools at the bar, downing another glass of brown liquid before requesting another.

you walked over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder. “reiner,” you say sternly. “i’m glad you’re okay but why didn’t you sho-”

“y/n! my girls here, everyone!” he grinned as his words slurred, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing tightly.

he’s definitely had one too many.

a few other drunk people cheered and he smiled at you before pressing a wet kiss to your cheek.

gross, reiner. you cringed slightly at the feeling of his wet lips against your cheek.

“reiner,” your voice was soft as you gently moved yourself out of his grip and sat in the stool next to him, frowning slightly at this sight of him. “can i have a water with no ice, please?”

“what?” he asked with a chuckle as he began to pick up his next glass of brown liquid which you quickly took from him and replaced it with the water you asked for.

“you didn’t come to dinner. everyone was so excited to see you.” you sat the glass down on the counter, trailing your finger around the cold rim before you made eye contact with him, sighing softly as you gestured for him to take a sip of water.

“oh fuck me,” he chuckled deeply, pushing the water slightly to the side. “it would’ve just been depressing, all they wanna know is how my time on the island was. i would rather die than think about anything that happened on that island ever again,”

what?

he’s never said anything like that before. but then again, you guys never made time to properly talk about everything.

and now, you felt horrible because of that.

you didn’t know what your boyfriend was feeling, which seemed to be a lot. yet, you were left completely in the dark.

but, that’s your fault for not inquiring sooner.

you shook your head.

no.

but everything that you just thought was completely true.

your eyes widened and you felt like ten pounds of weights were suddenly attached to your heart. it hurt that he would even talk about himself like that.

your eyes grew slightly watery, as you looked at him. in this light, this sight of him looked so different, he looked… unhappy, maybe? you didn’t know.

he was ruff, so jagged with scratches placed across his chin, bags under his eyes, his hair stuck up in different directions and the stubble growing across his cheeks that looked so handsome to you earlier just added to the look.

he looked tired.

but tired of what?

“let’s go home,” you said softly gently taking his hand after placing some money on the counter to pay for whatever reiner had been drinking.

“you asked me about paradis earlier,” he started.

“reiner,”

this isn’t the time or place. why now reiner? god.

“no let me talk, y/n.” his eyes met yours, they were filled with hurt and anger. the water that clouded his eyes could pour out any second but it refused to even trickle slightly.

you let him talk, even if it was in the middle of a halfway busy bar and the pair of you were gaining looks by the minute.

“everything that happened on that island was so shit,” he chuckled sadly. “did you notice how i was when bertholdt didn’t come back? i couldn’t even save annie.”

“reiner, i…”

“bertholdt is dead and who the hell knows what’s happening to annie right now! i failed them y/n! bertholdt died because of me!” he yelled and a tear finally trickled from his eye.

you guys were gaining the attention of people by the second now.

“i doubt that’s true, reiner.” you clenched your jaw.

reiner recognized that as a lie, but you didn't.

“no it is true, i’m a monster, y/n! i killed so many people! i killed my comrades! they didn’t know any better!” he stood up and tears just kept coming from then.

a tear fell down your cheek and you wiped it quickly. “reiner, please just let’s go home we can talk about this there,” you took both of his tense fists into your small hands and your thumbs crossed over his calloused knuckles a few times.

“y’know… even since we were kids, i always thought you were the most beautiful girl i’d ever seen,” he whispered, now cupping your face and looking down at you.

“and that always kept me going but i don’t know if i…” his voice cracked and he finally noticed the immense hurt on your face.

his heart dropped. he thought he lost you. causing a stupid scene in the middle of a bar, what the hell was he thinking?

“please,” your voice still somehow remained soft, your lips even ever so slightly curving up into a smile. “let’s just go home, okay?”

he silently agreed, ushering you both out of the bar as the pair of you gained looks from the others in the bar.

the walk back home was silent, but he still persisted to hold your hand the whole way back home.

you unlocked the door and reiner went straight to the bedroom but you stopped in the kitchen to fill up a glass of water for him.

as you walked into the bedroom you saw reiner sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at his lap.

you sat the glasser on the dress and walked over to him, rubbing his back as he wrapped his arms around your waist. unexpectedly, reiner began to quietly sob into your torso.

“you’re not a monster, okay? you were so young, you didn’t know any better. it’s not your fault.” you said quietly, kissing his head.

he brought you onto his lap and you wiped the last few tears that dropped.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered. “i wish i never inherited that stupid titan, i should’ve been here with you. i should be able to live a long life with the girl i love. i earned that much, right?”

a tear fell down your cheek, now knowing that you both shared the same regret of him inheriting the titan and learning the new information that he would’ve wanted to live a long life with you.

“yes, yes you did.”

you wrapped your arms around him tightly. “none of this is your fault, i promise. no one blames you, you were just a kid.”

he nodded in response, looking down at you.

“if anything it’s marley’s fault for putting such hard expectations on children.” you reassured him once again, pressing a longing kissing his temple.

he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, his hands on your waist as he kissed you gently.

you kissed him back, draping your arms loosely around his neck. your stomach piled with butterflies as you felt reiner’s hands travel down your back before he pulled you closer.

your heart was heavy once again, but for a different reason.

you were in love. reiner was all that you yearned for, and he was yours. only yours.

you inhaled his scent indirectly, smiling against his lips as you felt so safe and warm within his arms, with his lips pressed to yours.

for once, you were optimistic about the future. because, well, everything felt so bright and perfect in that moment. you wished you could stop time in this moment and just replay this moment over and over again. you’d never get tired of it. and that way, reiner would never have to leave you again.

you sighed happily.

“i love you,” he whispered against your lips.

you rested your forehead against his and your eyes met his gleaming hazel pupils.

“and i love you, always,”

please don’t translate, post (on other platforms) or rewrite my work. requests for one shots are always welcomed, pls send!! <3

love, pey !!

[parvulous-writings]

Illness is a Consequence // McCree x F!Reader

Request:     Super new and ive read alot of your fics and your writings are so well written. This is my first req for Overwatch and I dunno if you done this yet but. Reader x A sick Mccree perhaps? Like he comes home after a long day and he starts to almost faint by the doorway what would the reader do? I just imagine her being caring, putting him under the blankets and just spoils him haha. She/her afab btw. No rush take your time 👉👈💖

Requested by: @fragolaaaaaaa​​

Summary: The request! 

Warnings: illness (It’s very generic though)

Words: 1.4K

Notes: Can I just say 🥺. This is an amazing request, I loved receiving it! It also fills me with joy to hear you’ve been reading a lot of my fics! I hope this lives up to your expectations!  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif 

You had been in the Overwatch complex in some sense alone for the past three days. Of course you weren’t really alone, you had many other members of the entire force also in the building with you, but the man you had the closest connection with wasn’t there. He was off on a mission- assigned to him and a few other select members of the force. Unfortunately you were not one included on that list. So, all you could do was wait for your beloved to return to you, hopefully unscathed. You were currently walking back from the canteen, a few brownies in one hand. You didn’t know what they put in those brownies, but damn were they good.  You turned down several corridors, chowing down on your little evening snack, heading towards the quarters that you and Jesse were recently given to share. 

It looked mostly like every other sleeping quarters in the complex- shared or otherwise- with monotonous grey walls and grey floors, though the pair of you were lucky enough to have a window that looked out over the training grounds of the complex. The room was also filled with stray belongings of yours and Jesse’s, some of you shoes, a couple of stray ponchos. It wasn’t messy, but at the same time it could be cleaner. Regardless of that, you still thought it was one of the most homely places you could be. You grabbed one of the discarded ponchos, not caring for it’s cleanliness, wrapping it around your shoulders to relax yourself, and to remind yourself of McCree’s embrace. It still smelt like him- slightly of cigar smoke, the whiskey that he always seemed to like and bang on about, and something woodier, which you assumed was the cologne he often wore. 

You were quite peaceful sitting there on the bed, your eyes wandering aimlessly over the buildings in the distance. You had just finished your brownies- unfortunately- and were starting to settle down to catch some rest, when you heard the door to your quarters slide open. You sat up again, looking curiously over to the source of the noise, to spot Jesse himself, the man you had missed the whole time of your separation, standing there and resting on the doorframe.  He looked up from under the brim of his hat, his eyes coming to rest on you as he gave you a tired smile, so you assumed his assignment had worn him out. “Hey, sugar.” He greeted, and though there was tiredness in his voice, there was something else there too, something that didn’t quite sound right. He seemed to notice your look of concern, and tried to silently wave it away, though when you didn’t look convinced he spoke.  “I’m fine, pumpkin, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He tried to assure you as he stepped inside. 

His legs seemed to give out under him, and you immediately leapt from your bed to tend to him. “Jesse!” You exclaimed as you moved, he was already trying to push himself up with a quiet groan.  “No, no, sugarcube, you get yourself back into bed,” He told you, trying to refuse your help as you assisted him back to his feet. “You were about t’ get some sleep, I can tell...” He mumbled, though his protests became weaker and weaker as you slowly guided him towards the bed.  “That doesn’t matter, Jesse. Not when you’re like this...” You told him quietly, taking off his hat and placing it on the bedside table. He collapsed down onto the covers, another quiet groan escaping his lips as he rubbed a hand over his face. 

You gently pushed his hand to the side, pressing the back of your own hand to his forehead- the skin was almost scalding to the touch. “Jesse, you’re burning up..” You tell him, concern lacing your tone. “Get those clothes off, we can get you rested up.” Jesse gave a quiet chuckle at your words.  “Oh, I thought you were thinkin’ another route there sugar..” He mused, before coughing a little bit. You shake your head at his slight childishness.  “No, Jesse. That’s not what I mean, and I think you know that.” You tell him, starting to help him take his poncho off.  “Ah, pity..” He joked, trying to make you smile despite the clear worry in your features. His joking didn’t work very well, though a small part of you did appreciate the effort he was making, despite his rather ill demeanour. 

“McCree, what did you even do on that damn mission? You never get sick,” You muttered, using his last name to emphasise to him how seriously you were taking this situation.  “Well.. It was nothin’ really... We went to Volskaya to try and-” You cut him off with a look.  “You didn’t wrap up properly, did you?” You asked him quite sternly, and he smiled a little sheepishly.  “Well, I tried, sugar- but I got a little too hot before we left our outpost, and-” “For god’s sake, Jesse!” You sighed in exasperation. “I tell you every single time we head out there together, how come you never listen?” You asked him, clearly very unimpressed. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t take my advice, and the one time I’m not there to remind you about it you get sick...”  “I ain’t sick, pumpkin... Just a little under the weather.” Jesse denied with a shake of his head.  “That’s why you collapsed, is it, honey?” You reply sarcastically, carefully pushing him back so that he laid down. McCree sighed softly.  “I just don’t want you worryin’-”  “I always worry about you, Jesse. That’s my job.” You say to him, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. “You stay here for a moment, I’m going to go get you a washcloth in case you get a proper fever, alright? And do you want any food?” Jesse shook his head in response, before giving in to you, knowing full well that you would not give up trying to look after him, so he yielded. 

He sunk back into the bed, as you moved through to the bathroom, grabbing his washcloth for him, and a small bowl the pair of you kept there, filling it with cool, crisp water. You then moved through to the bedroom again, to see Jesse just about to fall into the clutches of slumber. He peered at you through half-closed eyes, giving you a tired smile. “You spoil me, sugar...” He whispered, starting to chuckle before it evolved into a round of coughs. You placed the bowl down quickly, helping him sit up a little bit. “Hold on, honey, I’ll get you some water, okay?” You said quietly, and he nodded silently. You quickly move back through to the bathroom again, grabbing the glass you usually used for rinsing your mouth out after brushing your teeth, filling it with cool water from the same tap. When you return Jesse had stopped coughing, but, still looked very tired, and rather pale. You move towards him, offering the drink which he happily took, bringing the water to his lips, having a few mouthfuls. 

He carefully put the glass on the bedside cabinet, and you pushed it further on to the surface, so that it didn’t fall off. He started to settle in again, and you got up to go and do a few chores, get a few things done whilst he slept, but a hand on your wrist kept you back. You look back in confusion, and there Jesse lay, giving you the most puppy-like eyes he could muster. “C’mon, sugar... Don’t go so soon.. Ain’t ya missed me?”  “Jesse, you are ill. One, I don’t want to get what you’ve clearly got, and two, things need to get done around here.”  “You can get ‘em done later.”  “Jesse-”  “No buts. You wanna look after me, right? Well, I’m asking for ya to stay. That’s how I want ya t’ look after me.” He told you firmly, and you chuckle softly.  “You’re as stubborn as a child, you know that, don’t you?”  “Yeah, but ya love me.” He chortled, pulling you back to him and onto the bed, his arms wrapping around you like you were some sort of beloved stuffed toy. He snuggled his face into the nape of your neck, a smile slowly slipping onto his face.  “Can I have some chocolate when I wake up?” He asks sweetly.  “Maybe, but don’t push your luck Jesse.” 

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McCree taglist: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker​